#like what good is it being so insightful and curious about the world if no one else will go there w you

[heyitsphoenixx]

never have I related more to ame than in this ep and that’s saying a lot

[aquaticmercy]

Of Heroes and Heartstrings (Part One)

Part 2 │ Part 3

Summary : Bucky Barnes develops a crush on the researcher who interviewed him.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (The reader works in academia and is writing about superheroes and how they perceive themselves in the 21st century)

Warnings/tags : Meet cute!!! Bucky crushing hard on you. Bucky's past. Sam being a little annoying.

Requested by :  myself again

Word count : 2.4k

Note : I think I might turn this into a three-part series! I would love to write the about gang playing monopoly together. Let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or 3!

Requests are open!

Bucky wasn’t sure why he agreed to this. He wasn’t even sure why he was sitting in a tiny cafe off the beaten path, waiting for a complete stranger to interview him about… superheroes? He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing at the door for the fifth time in two minutes.

It wasn’t like he had anything special to offer. Sure, people knew him as the Winter Soldier, but that wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. And superhero? That wasn’t a title he claimed. That was for people like Sam and Steve. They were the ones doing good things, saving people.

He was just trying to piece himself back together.

Yet, here he was, because Happy Hogan had sent him a message with a request that seemed harmless enough. He told him about you, how you were working on writing a paper on superheroes and how they perceive themselves for your big research project. Happy had mentioned that Sam and Yelena had already spoken with you, and they’d apparently walked away smiling. 

That statement was enough to make Bucky curious.

He felt a small pang of nerves in his stomach. Maybe it wasn’t too late to just bail—

The cafe door chimed softly, and then he saw you.

Happy had shown him photos, and that sweet, determined smile of yours was unmistakable.

You stepped into the cafe with an air of calm but curious energy, eyes scanning the space before they landed on him. For a brief moment, he froze. You smiled. Not the kind of smile people gave him because they recognise him and didn’t know what to say. Your smile was genuine, bright and easy, like you were happy just to be here, ever so passionate about your research.

“Hi, Bucky, right?” you asked as you approached the table. 

He nodded, feeling the slightest bit awkward but gestured toward the chair across from him. "Yeah. You’re, uh, the research… superhero… person?" He cringed inwardly at his inability to sound more intelligent. 

You laughed, a soft, warm sound that pulled a smile from him before he even realized. "I guess that’s one way to put it. Thanks for meeting with me." You set your bag down and pulled out a small recorder, setting it between the two of you. He had been given the consent form beforehand, he had known that it was going to be recorded. You introduced yourself, telling him your name. He repeated it, liking the way it sounded on his lips. 

"I know you probably don’t get a lot of requests like this,” you continued.

He snorted. "Yeah, not really the type that gets interviewed, but I figured Sam and Yelena didn’t give you too much grief, so…"

“They were great,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “Sam was really thoughtful. He has some incredible insights about how the world perceives enhanced and enhanced-adjacent individuals. And Yelena…” You smiled, clearly holding back laughter. “She has a very direct way of answering questions.”

Bucky shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. That sounded exactly like Yelena.

There was a pause, not the awkward kind, but the kind where you looked at him in a way that made him feel like he was being truly seen. Like he was human. Not just as the guy with the metal arm or the assassin from his past, but as… more. It was disconcerting, but not in a bad way.

You finally broke the silence. “So, I was thinking we could start with a little bit of your history in World War II and move into what it’s been like for you since. Is that okay?”

He nodded, relaxing a little. “Yeah, sure.”

You hit the record button, and the interview began.

—

At first, Bucky gave the kind of answers he was used to giving. Short, factual. He explained his past, his ties to Hydra, his journey since. But as the interview went on, something shifted. You weren’t just asking questions to check a box—you were genuinely interested in him. You didn’t ask about the Winter Soldier like so many others had before. Instead, you asked about James Buchanan Barnes, the person. The man who fought alongside his best friend in the war, who now worked hard to make amends.

You had even done your research. You knew he was a YMCA welterweight champion back in the day, and though he was a teeny bit embarrassed, he answered your questions truthfully.

“What do you think people misunderstand the most about you?” you asked after a thoughtful pause. 

That question caught him off guard. He blinked and sat back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly rubbing the edge of the table. “I think people still see me as the Winter Soldier. They don’t see me as someone trying to move on from that.”

Your expression softened, your gaze holding a quiet understanding. “But you’re more than that, aren’t you?” you coaxed, careful not to put words in his mouth.

For a moment, Bucky didn’t know what to say. The way you said it—so gently, so assuredly—it was like you had seen past everything. All the damage, the guilt, the regrets… and still believed in who he was.

He glanced down, unsure how to respond. “I’d like to think so,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. 

“I think a lot of people do.” you said softly, your voice kind and warm. 

His chest tightened. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him feel like he wasn’t defined by his past. You made him feel like he could be more.

Maybe that’s why, when the interview wrapped up and you turned off the recorder, he didn’t want the conversation to end.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said, gathering your things but not quite standing yet. “You’ve been an open book, and I know it can’t be easy.”

“It’s not,” Bucky admitted, surprising even himself with his honesty. “But… you’re easy to talk to.” He winced at how desperately that must’ve sounded. Then, he saw the way your eyes lit up at the compliment, and for once, he didn’t regret his words.

You tilted your head slightly, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Well, I try to make my interviewees comfortable so they spill all their secrets.”

Bucky smirked, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. “It worked.”

You laughed, standing up and sliding the recorder back into your bag. “I’ll try not to use my powers for evil.”

As you started to leave, something tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t want you to walk out of his life like that. Not yet.

“Hey, uh,” he called out, rubbing the back of his neck, “if you ever need any more… info, or… whatever, for your research, feel free to, you know… stay in touch.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him. “I’d really like that.” You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. “Here, put your number in.”

He did as you asked, feeling strangely nervous as he handed the phone back to you. You smiled again, that warm, bright smile that calmed him down.

“I’ll be in touch,” you promised as you waved and walked out of the cafe.

For a long moment, Bucky sat there, staring at the door long after you’d left. He felt lighter, somehow. Like the weight of his sins didn’t seem quite so heavy anymore.

—

Over the next few weeks, Bucky found himself texting you far more than he expected. It started off simple—follow-up questions about his experience with the Avengers, a few casual remarks about Yelena’s boldness, Sam’s “Captain America speeches.”

He had been able to introduce you to Isaiah Bradley. He hesitated about that for a moment, but after the interview, Isaiah had called him, thanking the former assassin for introducing him to someone who truly cared. Someone who truly wanted to make a difference in the world.

You continued texting, but slowly, the texts turned more personal.

One evening, he was hanging out with Sam in his apartment, soda in hand, when he heard a familiar vibration of his phone. It was you.

You : What do you like to do in your free time, Bucky? Something other than saving the world, I mean.  

Bucky : Well, I enjoy board games. I play monopoly with Sam and the others every other week on Saturdays.  

You : Maybe I should join you guys sometime. I’ll warn you now—I’m competitive.

He had stared at that text longer than he’d admit, his heart doing strange somersaults in his chest.

Bucky : I don’t mind a challenge.

Bucky sat on the couch, phone in hand, staring at your latest text. He had been reading it over and over for the last five minutes, trying to muster the courage to respond. His stomach twisted with nerves. 

Just then, Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality. 

“Why are you looking at your phone like you’re about to defuse a bomb?”

Bucky glanced up to see Sam back from the bathroom, standing in the doorway, a smirk already creeping across his face. He’d been too distracted to notice his return.

“Nothing,” Bucky muttered, quickly locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket, as if he was naive enough to think that would stop Sam from prying. 

“Let me guess,” Sam said, walking over with way too much interest. “She texted you.”

Bucky sighed, slumping in his seat. He knew there was no escape from Sam’s teasing. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam dropped onto the couch beside him, casually crossing his arms. “I’m not stupid. I can see you blushing every time she messages you.”

“I’m not blushing,” Bucky grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Sam had been relentless—giving him a hard time ever since he’d found out about the texts that followed your interview. You had kept in contact with Sam when you interviewed him, too— you shared the odd how are you and clarifications for research, but not to the extent that Bucky had. 

The second Bucky mentioned to him that you had been texting daily, he regretted it. He knew he never should have let him see even a hint of it.

Sam wasn’t letting it go. “What did she say this time? Oh, wait, let me guess—‘I had such a great time interviewing you, Bucky. Let’s hang out more, Bucky. You’re just so mysterious and handsome, Bucky,’” he teased, his voice high-pitched as he mimicked a lovesick version of you.

Bucky shot him a glare, rolling his eyes.

Sam just grinned. “Come on, man. Just tell me.”

Bucky hesitated, but then sighed in defeat, pulling his phone back out. “She might want to join our Monopoly night. She said she’s competitive.”

That got Sam’s attention. He raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Oh, so now she’s getting in on game night? Damn, Barnes, you're pulling all the stops.”

“It’s not like that,” Bucky repeated, but even he knew how weak, and untrue, it sounded this time. 

Sam gave him a pointed look. “Oh, it’s exactly like that. She likes you, and you like her. I’ve been saying it for weeks now, but you’re still sitting here, all brooding and shy. Just ask her out!”

Bucky shifted awkwardly. “I don’t even know how.”

“You already talk to her all the time, right?” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Just ask her if she wants to come to game night as your date.”

Bucky blinked. “A date?”

“You know, two people who like each other doing something fun together? It’s not complicated, Buck.”

He mulled over Sam’s words, the idea both exciting and terrifying. He hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but now that Sam had said it, it made sense. You had been texting him more often than seemed necessary for research, and there had definitely been a… connection. A spark.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look, man, I’ll help you out. We’ll frame it like she’s just coming to Monopoly night, We’ll invite Yelena and Happy, since she already knows them. and maybe Rhodey, Clint, and Scott, just to sweeten the deal. Make it less awkward. You’ll ask her to be your date. No pressure, just fun.”

Bucky frowned. “And if she says no?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She won’t. She’s already asking to hang out with you more. Besides, if she didn’t like you, she wouldn’t still be texting.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced, but Sam’s confidence was enough to give him the push he needed. 

“Okay,” Bucky said finally, his voice a little rough. “But how do I ask?”

Sam grinned. “Easy. Call her, don’t just text. That way she knows you’re serious. Keep it casual, though. Say something like, ‘Hey, you still want to join Monopoly night? I was thinking… maybe we could make it a date?’”

Bucky stared at him, his expression blank. “You really think it’s that simple?”

“Yes,” Sam said with exasperation, pushing Bucky’s phone toward him. “Come on, man.”

With a deep breath, Bucky pulled up your contact details. Sam watched with a smug grin as Bucky hesitated for just a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. Then, with a sigh, Bucky pressed it, holding the phone to his ear as the line rang.

Sam gave him a thumbs-up, leaning back on the couch.

The line clicked, and your voice came through the speaker, light and warm.

“Hey, Bucky!”

Bucky felt his heart do that stupid flip again. He shot a glare at Sam, who was giving him a ridiculous “go on” motion, before speaking.

“Hey, I was just, uh, wondering if you still wanted to join us for Monopoly night? Sam, Yelena, and a few others are coming, but… I was thinking maybe you could, you know… come as my date?”

There was a pause on your end, and Bucky’s heart practically stopped. Maybe Sam had been wrong—maybe this was too soon. Then, your soft chuckle broke the silence.

“I’d love to,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “Are you sure you’re ready to lose?”

Bucky grinned, glancing at Sam, who was nodding with approval. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Okay,” you replied with a chuckle. “Saturday, right? I’ll bring snacks. What do you like?”

“Something sweet,” Bucky answered, feeling much more relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Sam loves cookies.”

“Got it,” you said, your tone light and playful. “See you Saturday, Bucky.”

He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “See you then.”

As he hung up the phone, Sam slapped him on the back, his grin wide. “You’re welcome, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe Sam had been right, after all.

-to be continued…

Part 2 is uploaded!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again. 

And again… And again. 

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?" 

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister. 

[egcdeath]

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously. 

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 

[celaenaeiln]

Hiii, I don't really know if you made a post about this or not, but can I ask what you think of damian and dick's relationship? you have a really deep insight on the bat family's relationship, so I'm curious on how you would describe those two

Damian and Dick are probably the most important to each other in the family with the other being each other's most favorite person in the world. Dick is Damian's father, brother, mentor, and best friend. Actually it's reflective of Dick's relationship with Bruce but none of the toxic expectations and brute force of misplaced responsibilities.

Dick is loving and understanding of Damian and he's able to read him before Damian can even express his words.

For example, when the Black Lantern things open the caskets of Martha and Thomas Wayne, Dick asks Damian to help him wrap up the bodies but-

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

He's able to anticipate and take care of Damian before Damian can even tell him what he's thinking. That's the level of love and understanding Dick has of him.

Damian is insanely protective over Dick. When Deadman, Boston Brand, jumps into Dick, Damian gets super protective of his Batman.

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

Also Dick CANNOT STAND IT when someone hurts or insults Damian.

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

Honestly I think Dick loves Damian's sass. Even when he says he wants to kill people Dick's just like, "not today another day kiddo" which is just super heartwarming when you hear their banter.

Anyways, Dick and Damian have the funniest back and forth!

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #21

Damian values each and every word of Dick's.

Batman: Streets of Gotham Issue #1

While Damian respects Batman for what he created and wants to be appreciated as his son, Damian just loves Dick for who he is. I know some people think Bruce may be jealous of Dick and Damian's relationship, and while it's possible, I think Bruce is just super proud and happy. His greatest joy in life comes from Dick succeeding and he would have found it weird if Dick and Damian didn't get along because he inherently believes that Dick is the peak of goodness.

What I love most about Dick and Damian is that Damian is always shown as a loveable kid when he's with Dick. In the Batman and Robin (2011) comics with Bruce and Damian vs the Batman and Robin (2009) comics with Dick and Damian, Damian is much softer. Part of this comes from Bruce's refusal to treat him as robin originally, but their interactions are more stilted than the easy-going and funny ones between Damian and his big brother. But here's where it gets interesting. The writers write the characters in terms of how they would react to each other. What perception they would have of each other. So subconsciously the writers are creating the characters based on how they look at each other - meaning, Dick only sees Damian's good sides and finds his darker ones humorous whereas Bruce sees more of Damian's darker sides and has to rework himself to acknowledge Damian's growth.

I find that so fascinating how a character's personality in accordance with their relationships feeds back into the writer's writing rather than the writer influencing the relationships.

The most Dick has said about Damian willing to kill criminals is-

Batman: Streets of Gotham Issue #3

Another reason why Damian values Dick aside from being on the receiving end of his unconditional love is that Dick treats Damian like an equal. Dick doesn't command Damian to stay at his side at all times, he send Damian to do one task while he finishes up the other half. This indicates the amount of trust and faith he has in Robin's abilities and Damian in turn respects that.

Something that needs to be brought to attention is that just as much as Dick stops Damian from killing people, he is also his number one aiding and abetting partner.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #1

I LOVE THE MEAN LITTLE GRIN ON HIS FACE!!

My favorite part is Dick makes time for Damian just to have fun. He's a mentor and a father, but he's also the best brother someone could ask for.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #4

Honestly Gotham War Issue #138 was so confusing to me because there's just no way Damian would pander mindlessly to receive Bruce's acceptance. He literally broke from Batman to become his own person - he ran away - and suddenly he's back and begging for Bruce's love?? Even fighting over Dick is fine but the lack of connection between them?

Damian is single handedly the most important person in the world to Dick.

Damian is Dick's son.

Robin (2021) Issue #5

I find their relationship special because this is the only in his entire time life that Dick has ever given away a family momento of his own volition first. His parents and his background mean the utmost to him; he cradles the memories with longing and love. But inspite all this, he's giving away the last piece of family history. No, giving away isn't the right word. He's passing down his legacy. Damian is his son, he's literally inheriting the Grayson legacy in the way that only Dick can give. Bruce gave the kids Dick's mantle but he cannot give any of them Dick's history but Dick gave that to Damian. That's beautiful.

He straight up says it too

Nighwing (2016) Issue #20

"When your dad came back, there was a moment I thought it would be better for you if you stayed with me. As my partner. As my..." "Really?" "Yeah."

DC SAID DICK AND DAMIAN FATHER AND SON RIGHTS AS CLOSE AS THEY COULD WITHOUT TAKING AWAY BRUCE'S BLOOD CLAIM.

Damian considers Dick his father.

Nighwing (2016) Issue #18

"Finding a new life. Considering a child to replace me. I don't know what I will be...alone. I need you here, Richard."

"Considering a child to replace me. "

Damian is heartbroken at the idea that Dick will have a kid and move on.

He loves Dick so much he goes all the way to Bludhaven just because he loves and misses him after Bruce took over as Batman.

Nighwing (2016) Issue #20

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #8

"Are you with me Nightwing? The odds are completely against us."

"When did we ever let something like that get in the way? Robin the boy wonder, Damian."

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #8

"So far I'd say you've been my favorite partner. We were the best, Richard. Not matter what anyone thinks."

Robin (2021) Issue #5

Nightwing (2016) Issue #20

The world can stand against Damian but Dick will always be on his side.

Which is a problem in recent DC works because

Dick & Damian:

og panels Batman & Robin (2009) Issue #17

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

I'm watching too much stuff. And things are not slowing down with all the things coming in September. So I'm gonna try and keep this short. As much as that's possible given the amount of shows.

QL - Currently Watching

🇹🇭 4 Minutes [6/8] - Finally some answers. I haven't read all the theories floating around about this last episode and what it means, but I'm firmly on the side of, there is another alternative timeline, probably from when Tyme is dying at the start of the show, and also very much in agreement with everything @lurkingshan wrote here that these are just imagined do-overs and nothing will actually change in the real world. Which would be my preferred way.

🇹🇭 Addicted Heroin [2/10] - Haven't watched this weeks episode yet. My review for the first two is here.

🇹🇼 First Note of Love [4/12] - I like them a lot. And I like the pacing of this. I love the intro song. But with a second couple being introduced I think I'm gonna get frustrated having to wait a week for a 20 minute episode. I felt that way a lot during Kiseki.

🇯🇵 I Hear the Sunspot [10/12] - I am annoyed.

🇹🇭 I Saw You In My Dream [7/12] - May the boyfriend era commence. I am enjoying this one. I'm guessing we still have a bit of angst coming and I'm hoping for a good explanation for the dreams.

🇯🇵 Mitsuya Sensei no Keikakutekina Ezuke [6/7] - Just such an incredible show. This week brought the pain and I'm still unwell. As if Frito getting sick wasn't heart breaking enough, that ending left me in tears. I cannot believe we only have one episode left. I am not ready to say goodbye to the three of them.

🇹🇭 Monster Next Door [6/12] - My favourite thing about this is definitely Big. His presence on screen is great. But I'm not fully connecting yet for some reason.

🇹🇭 Peaceful Property [1/10] - It's a lot of fun. Yeah, I know it's not a bl. But it's bl adjacent so it goes here. Also in my head it's gonna be a bl no matter what. Possibly even with a gl side couple. The mind is a powerful thing.

🇯🇵Sugar Dog Life [4/10] - I love Isumi. I really liked that they didn't drag the girl storyline and it served it's purpose. Isumi is now very much aware of it's feelings. I'm looking forward to the date episode.

🇯🇵 Takara No Vidro [9/11] - Takara, my love. This boy has my whole heart. I can't believe I'll have to say goodbye to then tomorrow. I'm bracing for part pain, part happy. Please Japan don't let me down.

🇹🇭 The Loyal Pin [1/16] - I'm waiting to binge.

🇹🇼 The On1y One [4/10] - This show will hurt and I will love every second of it. I really like the look of this show and how we get those little insights into Jiang at the end of the episode. The actors are doing great and I specially love Benjamin Tsang facial expressions. I'm curious to see these two together and how their dynamic will work considering their circumstances. Also, always happy to see the revolving door of cameos Taiwan always grace us with.

🇯🇵Twilight Out of Focus - It's so beautiful. I'm enjoying that we get different couples even if sometimes it feels like we could have more time with them. I like Rei/Shion a lot, but I do miss Mao and Hisashi. 🇹🇭 The Trainee [10/12] - Just to get it out if the way, the Bamhee/Judy storyline was definitely the right call and @lurkingshan was right all along. Also the way the office came together was delightful and it's great to see Pah getting everyone together and once again being the best friend ever. Now. THE OFFICE FLIRTING!!! I was losing my mind giggling like an idiot. I love them. It's pretty obvious at this point that it's mutual and of course Ryan will need to actually be told that, but I still think Jane will wait until the internship is over before confessing or starting anything official. I can't wait to watch all the interns reaction next week. I love it here.

QL - Finished

🇯🇵 Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko! - I'm disappointed in this one. It started off so strong but by the end it lost me. I love Hiroko but I feel like they betrayed the character. And that ending with the kiss in the office was ridiculous. Actually most of the end was weird in the way that it seemed to contradict what came before. I like that they finally got together but it didn't feel as good as it could've.

🇹🇭 Century of Love - Started of great and imo fell apart by the end. I don't think it was consistent all the way through and the mythology was all over the place. Daou did an amazing job though. Also Ju is one of the greatest female characters of the year.

🇯🇵 Cosmetic Playlover - Pretty show. Final thoughts here.

🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! - Probably the biggest surprise of the year for me. It's great. I like the development of both couples. Even if near the end I got a tiny bit annoyed with Peak, I really liked the conclusion of it all. Latte is a great character and the very rare slut unjudged by the narrative.

🇹🇭🇨🇳 Meet You At the Blossom - Look it's great that we got a chinese bl, but this was not it for me. Let's hope this one helps get others made though.

🇹🇭Love Sea - It was fine. I enjoyed Mut but in general I just never connected to this show. And Muk annoyed me to no end. I was so happy to see Aya again and now I just wanna forget that she was ever in this and simply remember her as Yiwa.

🇹🇭 SunsetxVibes - I don't even have words. I don't know if it was my lack of attention or if it never actually made sense but I never really got what the mythology was all about apart from inspiring a truly horrendous looking necklace. I was slogging though this one and I guess the finale was fine.

🇹🇭 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans - The sides were great, their chemistry was on point. I really wanna see them again. The mains were my favourite thing about Pit Babe but I just didn't like them here.

🇹🇭 The Rebound - I just have to accept that MeenPing will always have bad scripts. They are pretty together but this was a mess.

Dropped

🇹🇭My Love Mix-Up!

Rose Watches OJBL

Pornographer: Spring Life | Playback | Continued Spring Life Finally finished the novelist. Final thoughts.

A LOT of stuff coming this month so if you haven't checked it out, here is the post with all announced upcoming qls for September with a couple of updates that I made today.

As usual my ask box is open. Have a wonderful week💜

[vasito-de-leche]

I was wondering... I've been reading the self-aware au and I wonder if Manus Vindictae is also aware of the player— How does Forget Me Not even react to the concept of the player too if he's ever self-aware of it? A human who calls the shots on the story progressing (clearing levels) and also the one who beats his ass in battle (i had to insight 2 level 20 my arcanists to beat him under 10 turns in hard mode)

Can he hear the player? Can he see them? (I tend to gush over him whenever he speaks, I repeat the scenes he's in 😭 i miss him sm in the story) sorry for all these questions!!! Im so curious of self-aware aus and how they work and yours particularly was REALLY good

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - Self Aware AU

Headcanons about Forget Me Not within the Self Aware AU.

this is a very good opportunity to think about non-playable characters within the game, actually! ty for the ask o7

there was someone who commented on one of my self-aware posts saying it was kind of like analog horror and I agree lolol

I vaguely remember mentioning that the requirements needed in order to be aware of the Player's existence were to either reach a 100% bond and/or to be exposed to Vertin's constant presence.

Forget Me Not, as an NPC with little to no actual relevant weight in the grand scheme of things (he is only relevant during the 1929 arc as of now) doesn't meet any of these requirements, so I don't think he'd be aware of the player!

His self-awareness is limited to knowing the world around him is fake, which fuels his self-deprecating and self-defeating, deranged, depressing mindset. I like to imagine Forget Me Not doesn't even understand that the world he lives in is a game, he just knows it's fake and that no matter what he does or says, no one will truly remember. Things will inexplicably reset or loop, and even so, he's not aware of the many times he's been forced to battle Vertin and the others because the Player had to grind specific materials. And so on and so forth. In his eyes, the "high power" that could attempt to control this empty world would be Arcana and no one else--after all, she's the one who opened his eyes to the truth through indoctrination.

When it comes to the figure of the Player, I wanted to portray an extremely obscure and detached figure. Vertin herself can't even fully wrap her head around the Player's existence, she doesn't even know if you're human--if the protagonist, the character "closest" to the Player is still left in the dark about these aspects, imagine how it is for other characters who don't have the privilege of acting your will, of being your hands and eyes. Sonetto can't even get a proper look at the Player, she still needs an insane amount of time lingering around Vertin to become more attuned to this somewhat eldritch entity tied to her. Characters of "equal" importance to Vertin, such as Arcana, may be able to perceive the Player in their own unique ways just like her, but everyone else? They need these special cases to even notice such a presence. Vertin is your only link to this world. You're the one looking in, this is a one-way mirror and only a very select few can look into the abyss and realize that something -someone else- is out there, staring back.

Like, of course I'll make exceptions or bend the rules if people request direct interactions between a character and the Player, but if we're talking about the setting as it is, then this is how I picture it.

Can he hear or see the Player? Nope. He doesn't have the means to. He doesn't even know they exist.

Forget Me Not feels superior with his self-awareness, gloating about how he's not like the common rubble who goes on about their day, entirely blind to the horrors. And yet, he's not aware of his limited perception of the world. It's very ironic, the way he looks down on others for the very same crime he's guilty of: obliviousness. Forget Me Not believes everyone outside of Manus Vindictae is too dumb, too unworthy of the freedom that comes with self-awareness. But really, this is just the blind leading the blind at the end of the day. Within Manus Vindictae, we only have Arcana and Forget Me Not as important characters, so it's hard for me to make a proper frame of reference, but overall I think that only Arcana is fully self-aware. Everyone else's perception of reality are equal or slightly inferior to Forget Me Not.

I think this falls in line with his modus operandi, so to speak! The way he believes he truly understands how things are, while turning his back on reality at the same time because he can't take it. He's too delusional, too unstable and frail to acknowledge that he may not be right, that he may be just as lost as when he first opened his eyes, that Vertin, someone so utterly disconnected from his ideals and morals and views, is the "chosen one."

As usual, Forget Me Not prefers to live a lie an double down on his usual habits than realize he always had the chance to change for the better and he just never had the courage to take that road.

How would he react upon finding out the Player's existence and their opinion on him?

I don't know the specifics around how exactly he finds out this piece of information, but either way, Forget Me Not would probably be shaken to his core! This isn't an easy pill to swallow in the slightest. You have to understand that every single time you beat him in battle, he 100% believed it was all Vertin's prowess.

How was he supposed to know she had someone guiding her? How was any of this fair?

Essentially, Forget Me Not has to confront the fact that all of his struggles, all the constant fighting and every conscious choice he's made to further ruin his life, were predetermined, already set in stone by forces beyond his comprehension. It's both freeing and claustrophobic, especially for a character like him who revels in misery and his status as an underdog earning his vengeance. He's done so much, he's worked so hard to get to where he is, and sure, his life is far from ideal, he's still the same self-destructive man, but now you're telling him that this was what the world planned from the very beginning? He had no say in anything? Someone out there decided that he was meant to be like this, and even after gaining self-awareness, he wasn't good or strong enough to break away from the script--in fact, he played right into someone else's trap.

I feel like Forget Me Not, at this point, would continue to do the only thing he knows: he doubles down. He redirects all of his hatred and all of his feelings towards the figure of the Player, if only to justify his existence--he can't live as a free man, he can't be seen as a living being worthy of respect because the plot commands it, he doesn't know where his own conscience begins and where the script and dialogue he's meant to say ends. So he might as well keep digging his own grave.

He loathes the Player more than anything else, because if there was no one to play this game, none of this would've happened in the first place. He fully blames you for every single thing, no matter how big or small. Everything that is wrong with his life can be traced to the person booting up this goddamn game every single day.

And if he learns that you replay each cutscene that he's in, he takes that as an offense.

This is just cruel mockery to Forget Me Not--not only you're the reason he's turned into such a miserable excuse of a man, but now you've turned him into your personal little jester, to sing and dance for your entertainment.

If he finds out that you hate him? That's good, it's a mutual feeling and it makes this tantrum he's throwing much more easier to deal with. But if he finds out that he's your favorite character? It kills him from the inside. How dare you?

His voice gets sharper, more visceral--every word is drenched with such profound hatred that you, from your side of the screen, can't help but think that Forget Me Not's voice actor is doing such a great job! And the artstyle is so good, his expressions look so real!

I can also see Forget Me Not eventually struggle with the fact that the Player loves him and sees him as their favorite character. It's not as easy and straightforward as hating you anymore--he doesn't even know you. He doesn't even know what to trust anymore.

Given how depressing he can be, I think he may latch onto the Player? The rug keeps being pulled from under his feet each and every time, but your existence, as awful and mysterious and controversial as it may be, is real. You're real. I have a lot of thoughts about this specific dynamic, but I'll leave them for another post so this one doesn't end up being suuuper long lol

On the subject of finding out that the Player is a human.

This one is easy! If someone were to tell Forget Me Not that the Player, the bane of his existence, is a human, then he'll just be in denial about it!

I really just like the idea of Forget Me Not having no means whatsoever to interact with the Player, it makes things so much more frustrating for him. Of course this means that everything he does know come from third-parties. And this piece of information is an extra layer of stress that he can't physically process at the same time as everything else in regards to his self-awareness, so he chooses to ignore it. To debate it. To simply deny it.

What, is he just supposed to believe everything he's told about you now? He can't even perceive you properly, let alone understand the sort of creature you are and your influence on this world--for all he knows, the people claiming to see and talk to you are all liars! All of his informants and spies could just be dead wrong, they may have misheard something on the way!

You can't be human, because he can't take another blow to his pride like this. It's humiliating enough to be played like a fiddle in such a way, Forget Me Not doesn't even want to think about the possibility of this small, fake world being at the mercy of a human--part of the very same group that caused him so much pain over the years.

[oraclemoontarot]

Was not planning on sharing my opinion on this, but I've seen it circling around a bit, and honestly, I find it absolutely absurd, silly even. If people want to know who their future spouse is, how their crush feels, hell, even what a celebrity would think of them, it is fine, more than fine. Especially if it's not invasive, disgusting, or an uncomfortable topic, it isn't an issue.

Tarot is fun, it's interesting, it provides insights when needed as well. Let people ask and be curious about things, let them enjoy things. In the nicest of ways, it's genuinely not deep.

For a tarot reader who provides personal readings, imagine previous 'clients', for lack of a better word, who have bought such readings only to see this sort of response? Why shame people and assume things about them? Not everyone who asks love questions or questions surrounding celebrities are delusional or insecure or uncaring about their self and unaware of what needs to be improved within themselves. We only see what they show us, nothing more, nothing less. It is unfair and frankly, disrespectful to place such assumptions and look down on those who are interested in fun, probably not as insightful or deep, readings. If it makes them happy and isn't hurting anyone, especially themselves, let it be. It's tumblr, it's tarot, and there are more pressing things in this world and within our lives to place focus on.

Plus, everyone is in different stages within their lives, some have already worked on themselves or know what steps they need to take, so why would they be interested in a reading that would only tell them what they already know?

Other people want things to look forward to, or a way to escape from certain thoughts or an environment, or they're excited at the possibility of who is coming into their life. Whatever the reason, we're all curious by nature, albeit for different things. You may be interested in self-care readings, finances, career, family, health, love, celebrities - everyone has their own thing or multiple things. And, for tarot readers who have both paid and pac readings surrounding topics you 'shame' or look down on others for being interested in, I find it somewhat hypocritical and hurtful to those who have purchased such readings from those readers who say such things.

I want to end it with, if it's something you want to see more of, or something you place importance on and value, then nothing is stopping you from posting such readings of your own. Some tarot readers have their own niche. Some focus on solely celebs, self-care, sex, relationships. And that is more than okay. If you feel like there needs to be more variety, you can be the reader who provides that. It would be more than welcomed, it would be a good thing, especially as, again, it's insightful, helpful, and a guidance some people are in need of.

Alright, end of rant 😭 just in case, this was a response to multiple comments and blogs I've seen, it does not specifically target the original post (as that was mainly aimed at tarot readers), as some people had stated they found people requesting certain readings as delusional, immature, and insecure. Which was just baffling to me and an assumption that does more harm than good.

[liesmyth]

Good morning,

my sister and I as queerish catholicish people* have been fascinated with the the new pope drama.

Anyways we were wondering about context.

When the pope was asking the vatican to "tone down the faggotry" was he

Deliberatly condemning homosexuls in the vatican?

Asking vatican employees to stop gay sex while at work.

Asking vatican employees to stop behaving in a stereotypically gay way at work?

Asking vatican employees to stop being so extra? This is pope Francis after all. He's not really a big luxury guy.....and maybe he finds the drag race aesthetic to be at odds with votes of poverty. (The documentary "Paris is burning" might correct that misunderstanding...but I can see how a general apeal to tone down extragance combined with a new slang phrase in his second language could cause this.

I do understand that whatever the context for the quote was, pope Francis used the wrong term.

But Im really curious what he was trying to accomplish.

Also how do I pronounce your new Url as I relay this information to my family?

*I am a practicing queer raised catholic and she a practicing catholic at a queer independent catholic** church

**yes its existence shocked me to, but they have like 18 members and a local epicable let's them met in thier space in off hours. And they take nor give any money to the vactican and sing the old mass.

Ok your sister's queer independent catholic church sounds honestly cool af. Hope they're having fun in there.

Context: the Pope was telling (Italian) bishops that the Church should discourage gay men from joining, and "there's too much homosexuality (faggotry) in seminaries already." We don't know the context as this was leaked, but if I HAD to make a guess I would say_ 1) This is undoubtedly a homophobic statement 2) this is coming from a guy who feels strongly that clergy should respect their votes of chastity, which a lot of priests straight-up ignore.

So, like. Francis HAS gone on record saying that gay men are likely to falter in their vocations or whatever. But if I had to speculate, and I don't believe I'm being overly charitable here, I think the point of his speech was, "By the way, priests should not fuck, remember that? And maybe men who are into men are more likely to fuck their colleagues and keep quiet about it, we all know it happens way too much."

But yeah tldr: he WAS "deliberately condemning homosexuals" in a "gay people are more likely than straight people to give in to the temptations of the flesh" kinda way. Which IS homophobic but not outrageously so, and I think very much in line with his overall line re: queer people in the Church, kind of when he said "Blessings to same-sex couples are fine! It's not the same thing as a real marriage tho."

I think it was a remark that wouldn't have raised any eyebrows among its intended audience if he hadn't used that word, which gave people who don't like him a lot of ammo to discredit him and motivation to leak the story. That's also why I think there's no way he was aware of the full implications of the word — would this pope say slurs in private? idk. maybe. I don't know him. Would he say slurs in front of an audience of bishops when half the Vatican can't stand him because they think he's a dangerous third-world outsider and a hardass? No fucking way.

At least that's my take. I'm gonna @monstrousgourmandizingcats who may have better insight.

this is how you pronounce it!

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.11

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.10 - pt.12

Y/N's pov:

The battlefield was quiet, the sounds of battle long since faded. I sat atop the massive corpse of the kaiju I had just defeated, my new scythe resting against my shoulder. The first light of dawn was breaking over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the scene. The air was still, carrying the scent of earth and the faint metallic tang of blood.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction. This was the first mission where I had used my scythe exclusively, not once relying on my kaiju form. The weapon had felt like an extension of myself, moving fluidly with my every motion. It was a testament to Narumi’s insight and the skill of the craftsmen who had made it.

As I sat there, catching my breath and watching the sunrise, I heard footsteps approaching. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Narumi’s presence was unmistakable, a steady and comforting force amidst the chaos.

He climbed up and sat beside me, both of us gazing out at the rising sun in silence. For a while, we just sat there, letting the tranquility of the moment wash over us. The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange, a stark contrast to the destruction that lay around us.

After a while, I broke the silence. "If there was a world without kaijus, what do you think you would be doing?"

Narumi turned to look at me, his expression thoughtful. "A world without kaijus, huh? That's a tough one. I’ve been fighting them for so long, it’s hard to imagine life without them."

I nodded, understanding completely. The fight against kaijus had defined so much of our lives. "I’ve thought about it a lot," I admitted. "What it would be like to live in a world where we didn’t have to fight, where we didn’t have to lose so much."

He sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Honestly, I’d probably be a professional gamer. I mean, I'm pretty good at them."

I laughed, the image of Narumi as a professional gamer suiting him in an unexpected way. "I can see that. You’d probably be the best in Japan."

He chuckled softly. "I’d give it my best shot. But I guess it’s the same thing, in a way. Trying to be the best, pushing myself to new limits."

"And what about you?" he asked, his eyes curious. "What would you do in a world without kaijus?"

I paused, considering the question. "A cientist, that was the dream. But right now, all I can think about is slaying every kaiju that ever appears. I want to make the world a safer place, so no mother would be without her kids, no kid would be without their mothers."

Narumi looked at me, his eyes serious. "You’re already making a difference, Y/N. You’re one of the best fighters we have. You’re strong, capable, and you have a heart that won’t quit."

His words touched me deeply. "Thank you, Narumi. That means a lot, coming from you."

We sat there in silence again, watching the sun climb higher in the sky. The light grew brighter, washing away the shadows of the night. I felt a sense of calm settle over me, a rare moment of peace in our tumultuous lives.

"I know it’s hard," Narumi said after a while. "But we’re making progress. Every kaiju we defeat brings us one step closer to that safer world."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "And I won’t stop until we get there. No matter how long it takes, no matter how hard it gets. I’ll keep fighting."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "And you won’t be alone. We’ll fight together, side by side."

I looked at him, grateful for his unwavering support. "Together," I echoed, feeling a surge of hope.

As the sun rose fully, bathing the world in light, I felt a sense of resolve solidify within me. This fight was far from over, but with allies like Narumi by my side, I knew we could face whatever came our way.

We climbed down from the kaiju’s corpse and started making our way back to the team. The battlefield was littered with the remains of the creatures we had fought, but there was also a sense of victory in the air. We had won this battle, and we would continue to win, one fight at a time.

"Come on," Narumi said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Let’s go report back and get some rest. We’ve earned it."

--

"Y/N, I need you to read this."

I took the report, noticing the Third Division's emblem on the cover. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of Soshiro. Since our last encounter, I had tried to focus solely on my duties, burying the pain of his betrayal deep within me.

"What's this about?" I asked, flipping through the pages.

"It's a report on the last mission in the Third Division," Narumi explained. "Two new recruits fought what we now call Kaiju No. 9. He was disguised as a human, part of the cleaning team. But that's not the strangest part."

I paused, my interest piqued. "What else happened?"

Narumi leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Kaiju No. 8 fought against Kaiju No. 9."

I looked up, startled. "Kaijus fighting each other? That's never happened before."

"Exactly," Narumi said, nodding. "There’s no memory or record of kaijus engaging in combat with each other. It's unprecedented."

I continued reading, my eyes scanning the detailed accounts of the battle. It was clear that Kaiju No. 9 was a formidable opponent, but the fact that another kaiju had fought against it was baffling.

"And there's more," Narumi added. "Soshiro fought against Kaiju No. 8, but it managed to escape. Its behavior was...odd, almost human."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "You think there might be other humans like me, transformed into kaijus?"

Narumi's gaze was steady. "It's a possibility. The way Kaiju No. 8 fought, the strategic thinking, the hesitation—it all suggests a level of intelligence and emotion that’s unusual for kaijus. It's not just mindless destruction."

I took a deep breath, absorbing the implications. "If there are others like me, we need to find them. Understand them."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Narumi said, his tone serious. "Your experience, your insights—they're invaluable. We need to be prepared for the possibility that there are more like you out there, struggling with their new identities."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "I'll do whatever it takes to help. If there are others like me, we need to find a way to reach them, to understand their situation."

Narumi handed me another document, this one detailing the Kaiju No. 8’s known movements and behavioral patterns. "I’m assigning you to a special task force to investigate this further. Your primary objective will be to gather as much information as possible on Kaiju No. 8 and any other potential human-kaiju hybrids."

"Is this your way of requesting me to go investigate the Third Division, Captain?"

Narumi lowered his head. "I don't like giving you this mission, but your living an unique experience, we have no collection of other person like you until kaiju n8 exposed this behaviour, I know, and you know too, that you would be the only officer in here able to detect something, if there's someone with your same condition, the kaiju in you will detect it. You are with us, but there's nothing that could prove that all of your kind have the same ideologies as you, if you request me, I'll go with you, but if you need more that one day to detect something, you know I can't stay away from that long."

I sighed, I knew I needed to do it, it's not like I could turn something like this down simply because of a person I didn't feel like seeing, we work under the same organizition, I knew I would see him eventually anyway. "Of course, there's no need Captain, they are colleagues now, in case of danger, I'll always be protected, the general declared me as an officer, they can't go against him anyway."

He got up from his chair, now facing me, he walk around the table, handing me the documents. "You'll call me everytime something happens, even if something personal, I'll be there as fast as possible if needed, it'll get easier with time to face some challenges, but I really need you to think as an officer, Kaiju n8 is to strong, if he's a turned human in the wrong side, we need to go after him as soon as we find him."

Looking in his eyes, I knew he was worried, but I was happy, he was finally treating as an offcier.

--

Arriving at the Third Division base unannounced, I felt a sense of unease settle in my stomach. The building was imposing, a fortress of discipline and strength. As I walked through the entrance, the bustling activity of the base reminded me of the First Division. Soldiers and officers moved with purpose, their eyes sharp and focused.

I made my way to the captain's office, my mind racing with thoughts of the mission ahead. I needed to gather as much information as possible about Kaiju No. 8. The possibility that there were other human-kaiju hybrids like me was too important to ignore.

Captain Ashiru greeted me with a nod as I entered her office. Her presence was commanding, her eyes sharp and calculating. "Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I’m here on a mission, Captain Ashiru" I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "I need information about Kaiju No. 8. Anything you can tell me would be helpful. There are suspitions from your last report, we need to investigate your base, the behaviour that was written was very peculiar for a kaiju, sure you are more than aware of that. "

Ashiru leaned back in her chair, considering my request. "Kaiju No. 8, you say? It's an unusual case. You’re in luck, though. We've had more than one of our officers to encounter with it."

"I'm aware, Captai Narumi assigned me to come here for that, I need a description," I continued, "something that could help me identify it and understand its behavior, my captain thinks it may be a species like me, if that, we need to find it, since your base was the first one with an interaction we will start from here."

Ashiru nodded. "You could interview Captain Hoshina. He fought Kaiju No. 8 directly. You should also speak with our new recruits, Ichikawa and Furuhashi. They were attacked by another kaiju, however kaiju n8 seemed to helped them, didn't even make a move towards them."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the task ahead. "I’ll interview all of them. Since they interacted with the kaiju at different times, they might have different information."

Ashiru smiled approvingly. "Good approach. Gather all the intel you can. And be careful. This kaiju is unlike any we've seen before."

With a nod, I left her office and headed toward the infirmary. As I walked through the halls, I couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and dread.

In the infirmary, I found Ichikawa and Furuhashi resting in their beds, their injuries from the recent battle still evident. Ichikawa looked up as I approached, his expression curious.

I sat on a near chair, introducing myself.

"Y/N from the First Division?" he asked, a hint of recognition in his voice.

"That's right," I replied. "I need to ask you both about your encounter with Kaiju No. 8. Can you describe what happened?"

Furuhashi sat up slightly, wincing in pain. "It was…strange. The kaiju that attacked us looked like a human at first. It was part of the cleaning team. But when it transformed, it was like nothing I’d ever seen. Kaiju n8 saved us, if it hadn't appear, we would be probably dead."

Ichikawa nodded in agreement. "It had this…intelligence. It fought strategically, not just with brute force. It was almost like it knew what we were going to do before we did it."

I took notes, my mind racing with possibilities. "But Kaiju n8?Did it say anything? Any behavior that seemed…human?"

Furuhashi shook his head. "Not really. But there was a moment when it hesitated. Like it was…conflicted."

Ichikawa added, "Why are you investigating that Kaiju?"

"I'm afraid that is not an information I could say to you, if that's all you can provide me, excuse me."

I thanked them for their information and left the infirmary, my thoughts swirling. If Kaiju No. 8 was indeed a human-kaiju hybrid, its hesitation and strategic thinking made sense. I still had no physical description of the other kaiju, but could it be the same one that attacked me before. It's so strange the sudden appearance and disappearance.

Next, I needed to find Soshiro. The thought of seeing him again made my heart clench, but I pushed the feeling aside. This was for the mission.

Searching the base, I found Soshiro in the training area, practicing his sword techniques with precision. He looked up as I approached, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Y/N," he looked at me, I couldn't read his eyes.

"I need to talk to you about Kaiju No. 8," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Captain Ashiru suggested you might have information that could help."

He sheathed his sword and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I fought it recently. It's unlike any kaiju I've ever faced."

"Can you describe it?" I asked, trying to ignore the tension between us.

Soshiro nodded. "It fought with intelligence and precision. It was almost…human in its tactics. There was a moment when it seemed to recognize me. It hesitated, like it was trying to decide whether to fight or flee. He didn't attacked just dodged the attacks and aimed my weapons, never me."

I took notes, my mind racing with the implications. "Did it say anything? Any behavior that seemed familiar?"

Soshiro hesitated, then shook his head. "No. But its behavior was…not kaiju-like."

So everyone had basically the same informations, this was going nowhere for now.

I thanked him for the information and turned to leave, feeling the weight of the past and the present colliding. Just as I was about to exit the training area, I heard Soshiro call after me.

"Y/N, wait."

I stopped, my heart pounding. I didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not now, not ever. I turned around slowly, my face a mask of indifference. "What is it?"

He took a step closer, his eyes filled with regret. "I…I want to apologize. For everything."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my emotions in check. "We are colleagues now, Vice-Captain Hoshina. So please, behave yourself."

He winced at my words, the pain evident in his eyes. "I know I hurt you. I made a mistake, and I regret it every day."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. "Your regret doesn't change what you did. Please go on with our day, that chapter is closed."

He took another step closer, his voice filled with desperation. "Y/N, please. I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought that I was doing the right thing, I searched years for you, I thought that maybe you were dead, 10 years and I found you by purely coincidence, it cannot be a coincidence my love, Y/N please."

I shook my head, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. "You thought betraying me was the right thing to do? You used my trust, my love against me."

Soshiro reached out, but I stepped back, putting distance between us. "I know I can't change the past. But I want to make things right. Please, give me a chance to explain."

I looked at him, the man I had once loved, now a stranger with regret in his eyes. "There's nothing left to explain, Soshiro. You made your choice. Now I have to live with the consequences."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Y/N, I—"

I cut him off, my voice cold and detached. "We're colleagues now. Nothing more. So, please, behave yourself."

Soshiro's initial regret turned into anger as he stared at me, his eyes blazing. "Why didn't you come to me sooner, Y/N? You knew where I was. I've been quite famous due to my job and position. Why didn't you reach out?"

I felt a surge of pain and anger well up inside me. "I was scared, Soshiro. Scared that you would do exactly what you did. That you would see me as a kaiju and not as your Y/N."

He shook his head, his expression twisted with frustration. "It's because of him, isn't it?"

I blinked, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

His anger seemed to intensify, his fists clenching at his sides. "I know for a fact you love me more, Y/N. You wouldn't have given yourself to me if you didn't. Even after being with him, the moment I appeared, you didn't hesitate. Why would you be with him?"

My heart raced as I tried to piece together what he was saying. "Who are you talking about, Soshiro?"

He stepped closer, his voice low and filled with accusation. "Narumi. I saw you two kissing in the bar. You were with him, and you didn't even remember it, did you?"

I felt a cold chill run down my spine. I didn't remember that at all. Panic welled up inside me as I struggled to recall the events. "Soshiro, I…What are you saying, me and Narumi, we're friends and co-workers…"

His eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and anger. "You were with him, Y/N. You chose him over me. You let him into your life, into your heart. Did you gave up on me?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words hit me. "Soshiro, it wasn't like that. I never gave up on nothing, after what you did, you want me to feel guilty?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You don't get it, do you? You moved on. You chose him. And now you stand here, telling me to behave myself like we never had anything."

I felt a surge of anger and frustration. "You don't get to turn this on me, Soshiro. You betrayed me. You used my trust against me. How was I supposed to know you wouldn't see me as a monster? Which you did."

He took a step back, his expression pained. "Because I loved you, Y/N. I still do."

I wiped away my tears, my voice trembling. " You proved my fears right. You saw me as a kaiju, not as the woman you loved."

Soshiro's anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a deep sadness. "I…I didn't know what else to do. I thought I was protecting everyone."

I shook my head, feeling a deep ache in my chest. "Protecting everyone? What about me? How could you think that was the right thing to do?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret. "I was scared too, Y/N. Scared of losing you, scared of what you had become."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "We are colleagues. Nothing more. I need to focus on the mission."

He reached out as if to touch me, but I stepped back, putting distance between us. "Y/N, please…"

I shook my head, my voice firm. "No. This conversation is over."

[smilesatdawnmain]

For all the monkey children, what are some headcannons you have for them as siblings? Things like favorite sibling, rivalries, any 'middle child' syndrome, etc.

Im personally most curious about Qi Haoyu and Qi Bao as the oldest and youngest

Oh my GOSH I just want to gush about this cute little Monkey Family! To the point I was writing a lot. So I am going to do it in sections. This first part will be just about Haoyu to start, and then I'll post each sibling separately to highlight other connections. You'll still get a lot of good insight about all of them through this :D 

—-

Haoyu: 

Rivalries are non-existent. Perhaps because he is the oldest, he doesn’t feel this with any of his siblings. Though outsiders like to gossip and theorize that MK and him are rivals to be Wukong’s “true successor”, in truth, both never view it that way. Haoyu is tall, so his siblings often climb on him like a tree to see further away, or just to talk to him. Haoyu doesn’t smile often. Or show much emotion, a very stoic monkey. His Siblings know how to make him laugh. He has the most expectations on his back as the first born, often heavily compared to Wukong. Many try to gain favor from him due to this, and he struggles to tell the difference from honest intentions to dishonest ones. 

MK and Haoyu often train late into the night together, taking the training the most seriously out of all the siblings. Whatever MK doesn't understand from his training with his Baba and Dad, it is Haoyu that can often make it clear. When MK is stressed about their “Destiny” it is Haoyu who can assure his worries, being someone the world looks at in a similar fashion. While MK is nervous to reveal his worries to everyone else, because he doesn’t wish to worry them, he does confide in Haoyu and Xiaohua the most. 

Xiaohua and Haoyu both love to seek out new land. While Xiaohua is more in for the views and new people, he is eager to help Haoyu’s treasure hunting obsession, as Xiaohua also likes shiny things. It is thanks to Haoyu that his parents let him go on adventures even before he is an adult, so long as he doesn’t leave his big brother’s side. Both are similarly naive to marketplace “Deals”, but Xiaohua at least can tell when demons and celestias try to trick his big brother into “helping” them. Haoyu does hit anyone who calls Xiaohua “Little Flower”. 

You would often find Sying clinging to Haoyu’s back when they were younger as whenever she got upset, she would go to him and rant about her feelings. He was a good listener and continued to train even as she clung to his back. You will sometimes still see her do this. She goes to Haoyu for advice on relationships, and other issues. Helps Sying with her training as he is literally a wall. So she practices the swing of her fan by trying to move an immovable object- her brother. When discovering her laser eyes, she accidentally gave Haoyu a not so flattering haircut and singed his fur for a while. 

Haoyu knows of Savage’s secret girlfriend and keeps this knowledge to himself. Haoyu once left home to explore and was 3 days away before he realize Savage and Rumble had hid in the shadows below his feet. Not long after turning around, Wukong realizes what must have happened and met with Haoyu half way. There is a reason Rumble and Savage were born as they are but have never been told why by their parents. Haoyu knows the reason why, but has never told his parents he knows this knowledge. Haoyu like to play board games the most with Savage as his little brother makes him laugh the most. 

While Haoyu can speak some words and is not completely deaf, he often only speaks to Rumble through sign language. These two often like to meditate together in complete silence, enjoying the peace. If Haoyu were to admit he has a favorite, it would be a heavy tie between Rumble and Savage, as these two tend to be the ones to make him laugh the most. Rumble often shares many of his interests. When Rumble and Savage were little, you would find the two sneaking out of their beds to have sleepovers with many of their siblings- Haoyu being the most common sibling to find the two in his bed the following morning. Out of all their siblings, Rumble hides the most in Haoyu’s shadow. 

Haoyu is often dragged around by Xue to go shopping and carry her bags for her. She likes to design clothes, so due to Haoyu’s ability to stand perfectly still for long periods of time, he is her mannequin. She discusses politics with him, though it is mostly her doing the talking and Haoyu nodding quietly. He doesn’t speak fondly of politics, but he at least understands them unlike the rest of their siblings. Haoyu’s nails are often new shades of color and cutely designed because of Xue. She makes all of his outfits, and the rest of her siblings. Haoyu gets pouty sometimes because Xue is very good at tricking him. 

It was extremely difficult for Haoyu to properly bond with Bao, but not because of their age gape. It was due to Haoyu often using sign to speak, and Bao being unable to read sign due to being blind. They found a system to resolve this. Haoyu has a small hand drum that his Baba used to use to calm him down when he was little and overwhelmed. It’s a noise he can hear clearly and likes. He keeps this drum on his hip when home, so Bao can always hear when he is approaching/so that Haoyu doesn’t accidentally startle Bao. Haoyu also use his index finger to write on Bao’s palms to talk. Rumble does a similar thing for Bao. Haoyu is protective of Bao, but often shows this quietly, by removing foes or obstacle to Bao long before Bao even realizes they are there. When Bao was an infant, if their parents had to leave at the same time, Haoyu was entrusted to hold, feed, and change Bao. 

(I’m debating between gold and blue eyes. Blue because of… certain reasons. So for now, his eyes are blue. This may change)

All siblings

(Next sibling) - MK

[pavaal]

Persona 4: Kiri no Amnesia (Summary)

I said I would do it, so here it is! I bought the Persona 4 spinoff light novel a couple of days ago, ran through it, and decided to write a summary since I don't feel confident enough to translate the whole thing page by page. For those who don't know, Kiri no Amnesia is a light novel set shortly after Yukiko's dungeon, covering an accidental trip into the TV World with just Yosuke, Chie, and Yukiko. It was written in order to expand on the Shadows of the first two victims, Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi. It's not not canon, considering how it resolves in the end, but at worst I think it's some good insight for people who wanted to see more of Saki, like me.

There are no major spoilers for people who have played at least the first couple hours of Persona 4.

With that in mind...

The first part of the book is pretty slow and uninteresting. It basically functions as a recap of things up to this point, with the main trio (for this book: Yosuke, Chie, and Yukiko) doing some training after school without Yu. This was before any supplementary material named him, so he's just referred to as "the transfer student" or "leader" in the narrative, and he's also absent for pretty much the entire novel due to certain developments.

Yosuke angsts about Saki a bit, but he tries to keep it to himself and puts on a bright smile so as to not worry the others. I found this part, and other parts like it pretty sweet, because Chie is really attentive to him when he gets in these moods. Being novelized means that a lot of the wacky anime hijinks are toned down, and so there's a surprising amount of very sincere bonding between the trio that we don't get to see in other P4 media.

When they leave for the day, Yukiko and Chie are the first to go, while Yosuke hangs back. Reflecting on a discussion about how they need to use the same TV to enter the same place, Yosuke gets lost in thought about how Saki must have been lost and afraid when she was thrown in. He's shaken out of his reverie by the sound of someone crying from one of the other TVs, but although he's curious about it, he stops himself before doing anything stupid.

The next day, the group meets up again to train, but Yu is late and sends a text saying to wait up. Then there's some filler about them hanging out, eating, bonding, etc, but Yu texts again saying he's later than he thought and to go on without him. Initially, they don't want to, but they do go over to the TVs where Yosuke once again hears the weird voice—which he doesn't mention to Chie or Yukiko, but he's distracted enough that they comment on it. He then asks them to cover him while he just checks inside, but of course he can't see anything without the glasses. He starts to get back out of the TV, but of course at that very moment, a wayward child shoves him in and Yukiko and Chie naturally follow.

They end up in what we will term Magatsu-Inaba, but to them it's just Inaba inside the TV. Shadow Inaba? Whatever. Everyone gets mad at Yosuke for being stupid, he apologizes, but he figures that they can just walk back to the entrance since they all know how to navigate Inaba. (Teddie can't reach them through the fog.) The problem is that they quickly discover the landscape is covered in black holes, blocking the easiest path back. They decide to take a detour to a nearby park, which Yosuke says he didn't know about, but there's someone already there when they arrive. Sitting on the swings alone is... Saki Konishi. (!!!!)

Yosuke understandably freaks out, and his first reaction is a mixture of shock and anger, since his initial assumption is that this is the Shadow that killed Saki. However, when he confronts her, she doesn't know anything, and I mean anything. She doesn't know who or what she is, and she doesn't even know what Shadows are. Yosuke has trouble being angry with her after that, and the trio has a quick meeting to acknowledge that she probably is a Shadow, and Saki's Shadow for that matter, but things are different because she doesn't seem malicious. Up to now, the human-like Shadows they've encountered have known TOO well what they are, but this girl doesn't know anything.

Putting two and two together, they come to the conclusion that there are holes in the landscape because "Saki" doesn't remember anything, and if they can get her to remember, then they'll probably be able to get back. This means traveling with her, which everyone makes their peace with. (Yosuke in particular says that he can't ignore someone who looks like Saki, despite everything.)The first roadblock they run into is that Yosuke can't call her Saki because she may nevertheless be the Shadow that killed her. Considering her condition, they decide to call her Amnesia.

They do some traveling, a Shadow shows up but it's way too strong and they bolt. When they find a place to rest, they sit for a little while and try to jog Amnesia's memory. Yosuke is clearly struggling with Amnesia's existence when she looks so much like Saki, so Chie intervenes and they have a little back and forth where Yosuke says something mildly funny and Yukiko explodes in laughter. Yosuke apologizes to Amnesia for Yukiko interrupting their important conversation, but she wistfully says it's okay, and she's jealous of people who can laugh. Yosuke is conflicted: he wants to help "Saki," but this is likely "Saki's Shadow."

He muses on his friendship with Chie and Yukiko for a little while, quietly grateful for them because they were the first people to welcome him and make him feel actually wanted in Inaba, and then Yukiko finally calms down. They decide to take a snack break with some supplies they had from the real world, so the trio+Amnesia split Yosuke's several Dr. Salt NEOs. After some discussion about how weird the flavor is, Amnesia mentions... she can't taste it! The trio calls an emergency secret meeting about how weird it is that someone can't taste Dr. Salt NEO, so Amnesia is absolutely a Shadow, but they can't do anything about it right now.

Incidentally, when Yosuke opens his, he accidentally sprays it all over Chie and Yukiko. Although they try to use their Personas to clean up, this will be important later.

Some other stuff happens, and Yosuke muses on the differences between Amnesia and Saki. Amnesia is much more self-deprecating and pessimistic than Saki he knows, and Yosuke knows from Saki's brother that she was a "good sister," so Amnesia just seems particularly sad. He tells her that she might not be the Shadow that killed Saki after all...

Amnesia's eyes suddenly glow bright yellow, and she starts muttering "I... killed... I killed... I..." over and over to herself. Although the trio prepares for a fight, Amnesia suddenly snaps out of it and seems to have forgotten what even happened. Weird!

They try to keep moving forward after that, but Chie and Yukiko complain about being sticky and they decide to reroute to Amagi Inn, since they're not making any progress with Amnesia anyway. Chie and Yukiko are excited, Yosuke cannot believe they're actually going to go to the hot springs in the TV World, and Amnesia is just trying not to be a nuisance.

The girls all take a bath while Yosuke stands guard, and shockingly, there's nothing particularly perverted about this scene. Amnesia and Yosuke have a little moment where, after Yosuke insists that Amnesia take a bath too so she can relax and try to recall something, she calls him kind and he gets flustered. After she, too, joins Chie and Yukiko, Yosuke worries that he's starting to see Amnesia and Saki as one in the same. He wonders what the difference is between a human and a Shadow with no malice, but he decides that's not a question he can answer.

In the meantime, Chie has a moment where it says she's gazing at Amnesia "with the gleam of an old man in her eyes" and comments to Yukiko how pretty Saki/Amnesia is, so she understands why Yosuke was in love with her. She fills Yukiko in on Yosuke's crush on Saki and really brings the mood down, but it's a nice moment where they acknowledge that Yosuke is really in pain and he's working harder than any of them to solve the case. Chie also raises the hopeful possibility that Amnesia is the real Saki, and the body they found was her Shadow.

After a bit, they move on to lighthearted girl talk and Yosuke tries not to pop a boner outside from listening to them (Yukiko asks Chie to "open her body") while waiting for them to finish.

Amnesia leaves first, and in a thoughtful mood, Yosuke asks what Amnesia would do if she could leave the TV World. She says she wouldn't leave. Although she doesn't remember anything, she feels like being here is a punishment she must serve for a sin she doesn't recall. Yosuke says she's strong for carrying that burden, but she says it's the opposite—she feels like she's probably running away from something.

Yosuke is about to hit her with the ultra smooth line of "if you have to run, run to me," but then he's suddenly interrupted by a Teddie Transmission warning them of a huge Shadow in the area. Yosuke panics because Chie and Yukiko are still in the bath and Amnesia can't fight, but he says he'll buy time while Chie and Yukiko get informed and dressed.

The Shadow speaks to him from a black hole that has appeared, and he notes that the voice is familiar, but he can't place it immediately. It asks him if Amnesia is important to him, and although he hesitates, he ultimately answers yes—to which the Shadow cheerfully promises that she'll kill Amnesia and drop her to the depths of hell.

Yosuke says he's not going to lose "her" again, and the Shadow gets angry, telling him that he's stupid for placing anyone else above himself. "You use whatever you can, you take whoever you can, even if that means you have to have an affair! Are you stupid?!" The Shadow is particularly hostile to the girls once they all rejoin, saying that she'll let Yosuke run away while she kills the others.

The Shadow is obviously super overpowered, and honestly there was a lot of fighting description here that I didn't care about so I skimmed it, but the critical part of this whole fight scene is that the Shadow is about to get a KO on Yosuke—but he suddenly hears Amnesia call "Hana-chan!" and feels a chain wrap around his arm to pull him out of the way in time. They manage to escape with some effort, but in the process, the Shadow destroys the Amagi Inn, to which Yukiko vows revenge.

Yosuke later compliments Amnesia on her chain moves, and Amnesia suddenly hears a voice within her saying that she prayed to forget this power. Her mind goes blank, and she can no longer remember what they were talking about. She's shocked to hear that she apparently did something in that fight.

There's a little bit of a drag here where they boringly make it to Shadow Junes and boringly hang out, but suddenly Yukiko and Chie feel incredibly faint. Yosuke summons Jiraiya to Dia them, but it doesn't seem to have any affect. Amnesia gets the feeling that she can do something, and so she folds her hands and, unbeknownst to her, casts Posumudi... because the Shadow onsen poisoned them! Duh!!

But the same thing happens again where she forgets what she just did, which by now, is something very bizarre that none of them are sure how to handle. They're afraid to push it after her short-circuiting earlier, and the trio acknowledges that trying to force her to remember might result in her going crazy... you know, like a Shadow. Yosuke once again privately muses on the nature of a Shadow, thinking, “If she looks like Senpai, talks like Senpai, and acts like Senpai, who cares if she’s a Shadow? …is a crazy thing to think, isn’t it? But I…”

At this point, to him, "Saki" and "Amnesia" are the same person.

Anywho, a little more of this and the Shadow from before shows up with yet another hole, and this time they recognize it as Mayumi Yamano's Shadow, and realize the holes are from her and not a result of Amnesia's memory loss. She transforms into Iwanaga(-hime), and in what may be a series first, Yukiko actually recognizes the legend. She says that after she got Konohanasakuya, she did some research, and Iwanaga came up as part of the story. She gives them a quick rundown, which is that Iwanaga and Konohanasakuya were sisters who were offered to a man for marriage, but Iwanaga was rejected because of her appearance. Chie comments on how rude it is to judge people on appearances and glares at Yosuke, who gets defensive.

I once again skimmed over the battle stuff because it truly is boring to read, but if you really need to know, Iwanaga is made of stone. Her schtick is that she feels like she's the most important person in the world and she doesn't care who she has to hurt to get what she wants. She loathes Misuzu Hiiragi and feels as if she was unjustly punished, since she doesn't see what's so bad about falling in love with a married man. Although even her Shadow seems to have truly loved Namatame, she really hates women and constantly refers to the girls as dumb brats. She calls Yosuke "little boy."

Anyway, things are looking bad. Yosuke tries to reason with her, saying that although she/Mayumi Yamano is guilty, she doesn't have to live her life full of this resentment. This does not work, despite Yosuke's best efforts, and she really starts to beat the hell out of Yosuke. More things happen, everyone does some cool moves, so on and so forth. Yosuke knocks Amnesia out of the way of an attack, but in doing so, he falls into one of the holes. Although he manages to catch himself on the edge, he's slipping and there's too much space for anyone to come save him. I liked this part, so I directly translated it.

“So this is it, huh?” An image of his “partner” appeared in his mind—the boy who helped them all awaken the power of Persona. “Sorry… I guess I’ll have to leave the rest to you.” Yosuke’s eyes naturally fell to Amnesia, who was gazing at him in horror. He gave her a smile as if to say “don’t worry.” “Satonaka and Amagi will keep you safe. They’re good people, so you’ll be fine.” His smile conveyed all this without words. —“He’s going to disappear.” Amnesia heard a voice from within her. “Will you taste the same regret you did when you killed me?” It was her voice. It was the voice of Saki Konishi. Amnesia was the embodiment of Saki’s latent desires—a Shadow. Saki’s desires had been calm, so Amnesia was not full of the same anger that characterized so many other Shadows. But a Shadow was a Shadow. Destruction was their nature. When the fog clears, that destruction manifests. And on such a day, Amnesia had killed Saki. Unable to bear this sin, Amnesia had erased her own memories. Every Shadow has a unique power from its individual identity. And the power given to Amnesia, borne of Saki Konishi, was called “Oblivion.” Saki Konishi had wanted to run away from everything that was keeping her trapped, to forget all her pain.

So, obviously, Amnesia is able to call on her powers after this, and she uses her chains to save Yosuke from the hole. Now that she's "awake," she's able to help in the fight, and she tells Yosuke that she can erase memories. They come up with a plan to erase Iwanaga's memories so that they can defeat her and/or get away, whichever comes first, but Amnesia needs to be able to touch her. Everyone comes together for their epic battle, and once again, a part I liked.

Yosuke was full of confidence [as he prepared to face Iwanaga]. Saki’s voice observed this from within. “Hana-chan always had this unreliable air about him… but I guess boys grow up fast when you’re not looking.”

Although Amnesia manages to touch Iwanaga and unsettle her, her power isn't strong enough and she just sends Iwanaga into a mindless berserk state. Amnesia realizes that there's only one thing left to do, and although she didn't want to show anyone this form, she realizes there's no choice.

Her body is consumed by black flames, and once again, here's a little translation.

Her body grew twice as large, and a black lace shawl covered her face. She wore a long, jet-black dress with lace gloves up to her elbow: clothes that one would wear to mourn the dead. The skin that was visible between sections of black was as pale as snow, and the chains that had previously only extended from her arms wrapped around her body several times, as if binding herself. She had the appearance of a human, but she was not: she was a Shadow, and her golden eyes gleamed from beneath the lace shawl.

Seeing this, Yosuke is briefly pained by the undeniable realization that this is the Shadow that killed Saki, but if Saki had just known about Personas, if she had known to accept her true self, then she wouldn't have died.

With Amnesia's magnified power, they all manage to defeat Iwanaga, and with her death, the holes clear from the landscape and Teddie is finally able to properly contact them. Amnesia changes back to her "human" form, ashamed, but the trio is openly supportive and grateful to her for helping them. Knowing that they'll be headed home soon, everyone encourages Amnesia to come with them. Amnesia thinks that she shouldn't, but in Yosuke's mind "a Shadow that could become a Persona" is no different from a human.

She agrees to walk with them, at least, and as Yosuke glances back at her conflicted expression, he thinks, "I hope you can smile someday, even if it's not for me."

Moving on to the final chapter, everyone reunites with Teddie, and they come up with the great idea for Amnesia to stay with Teddie. That way, they'll be able to keep each other company, and Teddie will be able to teach Amnesia about being a Shadow-but-not so that she can understand herself better. Feeling optimistic, everyone happily says their goodbyes. Yosuke waves to her and grins, telling her "See you tomorrow, Senpai!" before going back to the other side.

In the TV World, Teddie and Amnesia discuss the less positive reality. Amnesia is going to disappear, since the person she came from is dead. It's possible for her to live a little longer if she doesn't use her powers, but ultimately, no matter what she does, she doesn't have long left. Amnesia says that it's not a problem... because she's going to use her oblivion powers to erase herself. She saw how heartbroken Yosuke was about Saki's death, and she doesn't want to do that to him again. So, she considers it the kindest thing she can do for the people who were so kind to her to quietly and secretly disappear. Teddie protests, of course, but as he's tearfully insisting for her to stay... he suddenly stops, and wonders what he was just talking to himself about. He feels sad for some reason, but maybe he's just lonely because Sensei and the others haven't visited yet?

He hopes they come back soon.

On the other side, Yosuke and the others are actually at the moment just before Yosuke falls in, and everything is fine. Yu contacts them telling them he's on his way, so they go to the roof. Yosuke realizes, however, that he feels strangely sad, and his chest hurts like he's lost something. Chie asks why he looks like he's about to cry, to which Yosuke actually does start to cry. Yu arrives at the same moment, and Yosuke hurriedly turns away so Yu can't see him shedding any tears.

Yu apologizes for being so late, and explains that he lost track of time helping a sick cat near his house. Yosuke, still sniffling, demands what's more important—them or a cat?! But when Yu turns thoughtful, Yosuke realizes that that's the type of person Yu is. He helps anyone, no matter who they are. He turns back to Yu and tells him that it's okay, because he wouldn't be Yosuke's partner if he didn't stop to help a cat, and then Chie and Yukiko make fun of him for having a runny nose.

Yosuke thinks to himself he's so glad that he has these people as his friends, but he can't help but feel he forgot something important as they leave. From the TV, he thinks he hears someone whisper "yes, you did, but please don't try to remember," but he writes it off as his imagination.

The End.

Despite this being a way longer summary than I set out to write, I did leave out a lot of small, non-plot-important details. If you love P4 and you can read Japanese, it's probably worth it! Yukiko and Chie are especially good in it and have lots of great friendship moments with each other and with Yosuke as well. I was really surprised by Yosuke and Yukiko's friendship, in fact, since I feel like the game and especially the spinoffs have kind of given the impression that Yukiko doesn't like him very much? But she respects his conviction here, and they're a great team. It was really cool to see how the three of them interact without Yu, and it gave a lot of insight into what their friendship might have looked like before he showed up.

Overall, I was really satisfied with this and I kind of regret that there weren't more novels like this. I thought Saki's Shadow was cool, and it was really interesting to see Mayumi manifest with such viciousness. Chie even comments that it's hard to feel bad for her!

Like I said, there is some other minor stuff I left out for ease of reading, so if you have any questions about stuff, feel free to ask!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

id also like to ask for strawhats with a present mic!reader please! thank you 😊

-When you first dropped out of the sky, landing on the deck of Sunny, the Straw Hats didn’t really know what to make of you, your clothes were strange and the strange thing that looked like a speak around your neck looked even stranger.

-You kept your cool, using years of experience to keep a level head, as they all inquired who you were, with several of them looking ready to strike if they had deemed you a threat.

-You told them that you had been fighting someone with a strange quirk, who opened a black hole and you fell through it, the next thing you knew, you were free falling over the ocean and landed on the ship.

-Luffy instantly believed you, wanting to know more about quirks, and with deduction on both sides, you were all able to determine that you came from a different world.

-This world had unique abilities as well, but not natural like your world, but via things called Devil Fruits, which grants the eater wonderous abilities, but they lose the ability to swim.

-Usopp, Zoro, Nami, and Chopper, were the only ones who didn’t immediately accept you, for one reason or another, thinking that you could be a threat.

-Luffy liked you and you quickly grew to like this strange little man with a rubber like body, he was loud, cheerful, and you just seemed to vibe with him. Luffy adored learning that you were a professional hero and a teacher, teaching the heroes of tomorrow.

-Robin also was curious about your time as a teacher, surprisingly as an English Teacher, but you also helped with some of the combat classes as well.

-Franky was elated to meet you, as you took off your speaker, showing him the technology behind it, something that got Usopp on your side, as you allowed them to study your speaker. Franky asked you all sorts of questions about the technology of your world, wanting to know all about it, and he was sparkly-eyed to learn as much as he could.

-Sanji enjoyed that you were at least polite and had good table manners, you even offered him help in the kitchen which made you grow even more in his eyes. You knew how to cook as well, but nothing like Sanji, but enough to at least help Sanji here and there.

-You loved Brook, he was so interesting, being a talking and singing skeleton, and he enjoyed that the two of you could enjoy in depth conversations with each other, showing him that you were extremely smart.

-Chopper grew to like you after he saw you getting along with everyone, willing to help them all, as they were letting you stay on the ship in an unknown world that you knew nothing about. You offered Chopper insight into the medicine of your own world, some of which sounded advanced, which made him ask you lots of questions. You tried your best to answer them, but you were a hero, not a doctor.

-Nami took a while to come around, it took an enemy attack with you saving her to get her on your side, when you first showed off your quirk, easily blowing the enemy ship away.

-You didn’t really like the idea of being a pirate, at first, until you learned how corrupt the government was, so in hindsight, being a pirate was the lesser of two evils. The Straw Hats weren’t evil either, which you were easily able to determine, so you had no issues joining the crew when Luffy asked you.

-Nami was appreciative that at least you knew how to budget, saving money where you could, which was win in her eyes, and you were polite to her, asking about her own weapon, curious about the technology behind it.

-Zoro was the last one to welcome you, but you learned that he was like that with most new people who joined the crew. He welcomed you after you saved Nami, easily taking care of the whole ship with one well-placed attack with your quirk, shoving a mug of ale into your hand when the celebration started.

-You were a little bummed that you couldn’t return home, return to your own comforts, your jobs, your friends, but you had found new friends in this new world, as well as a new purpose.

-If those back home could see you now, being a pirate, having a bounty, traveling, and seeing so many odd, at least to you, things- they wouldn’t believe it!

[buffyfan145]

The s2 "Rings of Power" finale was great!!! 😀 A lot happened that I expected, and actually was leaked again, but still had some surprises too. Overall, I really enjoyed the season and what we got, including for Haladriel. All the spoilery things behind a cut, but also we're getting great interviews with the cast/writers now too with more insight, especially from Charlie, and about s3 and I'm so excited for that even if we likely have to wait 2 years again. LOL But so much to talk about.

Have to start with Haladriel and honestly I'm totally fine with what we got. I know wanted more but again I had low expectations for the season and we got so much more than I expected. This finale did confirm to me that Sauron does love her, but it's now twisted like a lot of other enemies to lovers ships. They had him tell her back in Halbrand form that again he didn't lie about everything and that what he felt and they had was real. He also again told her about how they do have things in common and she felt it too. Then about how he was going to have her as queen and that he was going to serve her had she said yes. Also being happy to see Nenya and how beautiful it was, even though like an angry ex-fiance/husband he wanted it back. LOL Seems to confirm that in the show he and Celebrimbor designed it for her. Then even though he stabbed her with the crown it was in the shoulder and he even told her he didn't want to kill her. I'm also certain he helped slow her fall (which was part of a now true leak a few days ago about Galadriel jumping and Gil Galad & Elrond healing her) as he was shocked she jumped off the cliff and a fall from that height would've killed her instantly. They showed mostly her falling and didn't show him after he first reached for her, so that seems intentional.

Plus, I agree with others that she likely isn't fully healed from Morgoth's crown stab wound either and that it'll connect her further to Sauron. I noticed she kept touching it and was still weak and recovering. And we got to see Sauron talking with her telepathically now too. Charlie also in interviews this morning brought up how there will be more with Sauron and Galadriel too and that he never wanted her dead. We all knows this fits with the books too and he never stops trying to contact her and see her till the One Ring is destroyed by Frodo, so we're going to get more and show that this is one of the big dynamics of shows.

Also loved seeing Morfydd and Charlie hug and laugh in that bts video after the episode aired too. Those scenes had to have been hard to film, and with Charles Edwards too.

Still so sad about Celebrimbor even though I knew it was coming from the books. Loved though that he foresaw about Frodo too and the One Ring being Sauron's downfall, including that he would never go to Valinor again and being a prisoner in Middle Earth as that is exactly what happened as he's supposedly still stuck as a formless spirit to this day for those that think Middle Earth turned into our world. Really hope at least both the Charlies get Emmy awards as they deserve it.

Very happy they finally confirmed that The Stranger is Gandalf!!! 😀 I figured he was this whole time and now it's finally out there. Curious what will happen for him next and for Nori, as I saw the writers say she'll be on her own journey in s3 too. They writers also confirmed now The Dark Wizard is not Saruman, so he's likely the first Blue Wizard that went evil. So likely Saruman, Radagast, and the 2nd Blue will show up too.

Then happy Arondir is still alive, Elrond realized the rings are good, and the elves founded Imladris/Rivendell and are starting the war on Sauron. Also loved Isildur and Estrid kissed, and that was the most passionate kiss I've ever seen on the show so far. Was hoping Elendil and Miriel would kiss too but loved she gave him Narsil, and he's on his way to find his other son Anarion, who I still wonder if Tom Taylor is playing as his agency is still tagging him on posts and maybe the show cut his scenes till s3. Adar's death was so well done too and I'm glad Nenya healed him too and he was able to reconcile with Galadriel before that. Loved Durin III realized the rings were bad too and went after the balrog to save the others. Now Durin IV is king and his brother is coming to dispute it, which might be another reason they hired a writer from "The Crown" for s3.

I can't wait for s3 and already have seen Charlie teasing that him giving out the 9 is the main storyline for him. I still think he'll switch back to Halbrand or a more regal form of him to recruit the 9 men to his side. He also teased about making the One Ring but isn't sure yet when that happens and if it happens before Sauron goes to Numenor or after. And we know Numenor will be a huge part now that Isildur is going back and Elendil & Anarion will lead the Faithful. Hoping too Galadriel gets more screentime too and Morfydd's schedule is clear so her other projects don't interfere like this time, and since there is a gap in her storyline in the books that the show could add to. And I've got some fics ideas and I'm sure we'll get a lot of fan content till it's finally back.

[fadedtoneverland]

hello dear author, I could request a Hyunjin x male!reader who is a member of nct, reader is the brother of another famous idol and he often dresses in long dresses or long skirts, I hope I'm not asking too much of you, take care of yourself

“my muse”

❤︎ synopsis — as an artistic man, hyunjin is drawn towards someone who embodies art in his own way

pairing: idol!hyunjin x idol!male!reader

theme: fluff ✿

a/n: first stray kids request! hyunjin is literally the most beautiful man i’ve ever laid my eyes on, and i adore him, so im glad he’s the first member from skz i get to write for !!

cw: none.

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i’d like to believe hyunjin likes to observe people on a deeper level

it’s just how he is. hyunjin is an artistic man. he sees the world beyond what the naked eye presents him, and that shows in how he treats and greets people

it’s a habit he’s had. he’ll meet someone, have a few nice conversations, and then he’ll go about thinking about their style, mannerisms and energy

he’s done it a lot in the kpop industry, being able to clock someone’s insecurities and thoughts just from a look alone

hyunjin never really questioned why he does it, in fact he himself is sometimes weirded out by his random hyper analytical behavior. but it allows himself to give a deeper insight on the people he surrounds himself with

so when sm entertainment announced a new member of nct dream, he was naturally curious.

nct was already known for their bold concept of many members, all split into different sub-units. hyunjin had personally met a few of the dreamies before

that’s when he saw you

hyunjin was immediately captured by your striking appearance. when you made your stage debut, you were draped in the most gorgeous silks and fabrics, accompanied with sparkling diamonds that made you stand out. like a prince

maybe it was the skirt, or maybe it was the flashy stage presence, but hyunjin has never encountered someone so… bold. so confident to dominate the stage with such ease, like you were made for it.

later on, hyunjin learned from jisung that you were the brother of famous tvxq member, kim jaejoong. hyunjin could see the resemblance. you definitely had his eyes… and his attitude.

it explained a lot, actually

hyunjin definitely wanted to get to know you more

and fate seemed to be on his side as he ran into you during an after party of the

the party was filled with all sorts of people tonight.

stray kids had a particularly good evening, having won a couple awards from the MAMA show this year, all thanks to their hard work and talent. as expected, the kpop sensation was invited to attend the after party at a private venue, hosted by a couple of the TV hosts themselves.

hyunjin was off to do his own thing, having separated himself from the group to get swept away in the fun party. pretty faces and model bodies were everywhere. hyunjin has seen them all, even recognized a few faces. it was expected to see many people like that, he worked in the idol industry after all.

beauty was key in a world like this

the black haired idol found himself leaning against one of the party tables, a glass of champagne cupped in his long fingers. he took a sip of the sugary liquor while scanning the crowd. the crowd was filled with all sort so celebrities, having the same shallow conversations. he’d catch sight of young women acting too humble for the sake of the camera, men too ashamed of their tan skin, so they hide it behind pale makeup, and the starry eyes of children who have yet to discover the darkness behind the industry.

it was all the same. nothing interesting caught his eyes. but then again, there’s almost no room for individuality when the standard is to just be an obedient, purse pup. almost everyone was in this room was just a pretty show dog, doing the ringmaster’s commands and tricks without question.

hyunjin sighed.

he was thinking too pessimistically for an event that’s supposed to be fun and exciting.

taking another quick swig of his golden alcohol, hyunjin set the glass down, deciding he’s had enough for tonight. as he looked around the crowd, he caught sight from the corner of his eye approaching him, and leaning against the party table next to him. neither of them made eye contact, but acknowledged one another silently.

“it’s rather lovely tonight, isn’t it?” your voice sounded on hyunjin’s right side. of course, pretty porcelain doll from nct dream had to greet him personally. not that hyunjin was offended by your presence, he was just.. taken aback.

“of course,” hyunjin agreed, not tearing his eyes away from the party crowd, “the venue is just lovely.”

“agreed.” you smiled. hyunjin took this opportunity to look at your face. god, even your smile was as perfect as your entire being.

everything about your demeanor was different. it was loud and proud, not afraid to show the world what you were made of. dressed in a clad, wine red dress shirt, accompanied with a matching maxi skirt, you stood out amongst the crowd of mannequins.

that alone intimidated hyunjin. he wasn’t used to such bravery in a dog-eat-dog world.

“congratulations on your win, by the way,” you said while clasping your hands together politely, offering your congratulations to your senior. “stray kids really knows how to steal the stage. i especially enjoyed the performance of thunderous.”

your voice was polite, but there was a hint of playfulness in those bright eyes. hyunjin took a moment to compose himself, before putting on his most charming smirk.

“thank you, y/n.” hyunjin thanked while bowing, showing the mutual respect he held for you. “but i can’t have you being flattering without your own achievements being acknowledged. seriously, your voice absolutely took me away. and your style? nothing like the industry has seen before. you’re pushing new boundaries for the fashion in kpop.”

hyunjin’s always meticulous with the compliments he gives, because it shows he cares. but he also just wanted to praise your expression of art through your style and attitude. it’s not everyday he gets to meet someone unique like this, and it seems the compliment he gave you earned a cute giggle from your pretty red lips.

adorable.

“you’re charming, hyunjin.” you said while covering your lips with your palm, pulling it away and letting your hand fall to your side.

“i get that a lot.” the idol said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“as you should,” you replied, a smirk making it’s way to your lips. “you’re seriously like a real life prince.”

hyunjin laughed. genuinely. not one of those quick, brief laughs he usually did to amuse people.

.. since when did he get so flirty and comfortable with an idol he just met?

the conversation flowed well. hyunjin really found a spark of chemistry between him and you. not only were you bold, but also engaging. the way you speak so beautifully and thoughtfully, it just drew hyunjin in further.

like a fly buzzing into a dazzling light.

“we should do this again, hyunjin.” you say with a smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling with the action.

“i quite enjoy your company.”

hyunjin smiles at this, leaning back against the table.

“what, like a date?” he teased.

you scoff and wave your hand at him. “if that’s what you want to call it.”

the space between you both is filled with giggles. as your laughter died down, you caught sight of jaemin flagging you over to the exit of the after party venue.

sighing solemnly, you give hyunjin one last smile, before turning around. “i’ll catch you later, hwang.”

hyunjin watched with curious eyes as you left, your skirt flowing with every step you took.

‘this boy is gonna kill me.’ hyunjin thought to himself.

he watched as you stepped out of the venue with the rest of the dreamies. you truly were a work of art, and hyunjin definitely believes there’s more he can add to the canvas. you’re beautiful just as you are, but with a splash of color, maybe he can just turn you into one of the most beautiful things the world has ever seen, and make them all fall in love with you all over again.

just as your brother did before.

his muse. his pretty little muse, that he’s just so intent on learning more about, and he won’t stop with just that amazing conversation you just had.

he’ll find you again.

hyunjin smiled. it was a smile of brilliance.

“i’ll catch you later, kim.”

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[allwormdiet]

Extermination 8.1

Jesus Christ. Okay. Let's get this going.

Y'know, I wonder if Taylor might be cynical about human nature or something, weird

Hey Dragon, very cool to meet you in the chrome.

Aww, she's starstruck

Hey Weld, cool to meet you, wish it was under less dire circumstances

See, the nice thing about the Empire showing up to an Endbringer fight is that the Endbringer can then massacre a bunch of fucking Nazis. Totally victimless deaths, and no hand-wringing about whether it's right or wrong to take them down.

If I was giving performance notes to Leviathan for this showing I would have to criticize that he didn't kill more of them, frankly

Hey kids, sorry some of you are about to get slaughtered in a fight you're way underqualified for

Hey Panacea, I'll see you later when you decide to exacerbate Skitter's paranoia in revenge for the bank job and make this arc go from bad to worse for her

So I know Legend is publicly gay from fandom osmosis, but what I don't know in this moment is whether Wildbow had decided on that beforehand and Taylor is currently ogling a gay dude, or if he decided on it after writing this. I guess it doesn't strictly matter, but it leaves me curious how much of this was laid out in advance, especially with some other writing decisions that are gonna come up this arc

So Myrddin straight up has a wizard gimmick and that's kind of wild, but not nearly as wild as the fact that a Protectorate cape apparently flew off the handle sufficiently far enough to yell a racial slur multiple times in public. Like holy shit that is some radioactive PR.

Also, while you do not in fact have to hand it to the Empire Eighty-Eight, it is very funny of Kaiser to taunt Bastion like this

So that's the Triumvirate rounded out, and... how to put this. There's something that's almost sweet about Taylor's thoughts diverting to think about the "who would win" discussions about heroes. Like, I dunno, it's a cute insight into the world. Maybe she used to have those conversations with Emma back when they were younger.

Y'know, I'm constantly wary of government-employed superheroes as a concept, but frankly i think a corporate superhero team is even more hair-raising. The Christian superheroes could break in either direction, either they're genuinely good people who take their faith seriously or they're just self-righteous pukes. Knowing the general tone of this story, I'd be surprised if it was the first one.

Hey Parian, hey Flechette, looking forward to your later contributions

What the hell is Bambina's deal, even. Does she have some kinda thing going on like Babydoll from BTAS, or what. I don't know if I've heard the name come up before.

Grue, Regent, c'mon now

Also yeah Taylor, I think you sufficiently scared the absolute bejeezus out of Sundancer when you made this story really earn a content warning for eye horror.

Okay so I did not realize that Narwhal was gonna have a goddamn exhibitionist thing going on here, what the hell. Can you just get away with whatever as long as you're not showing your nipples or genitals? Did it truly never come up that she could maybe wear pants to cover up a little bit?

So I knew previously that Legend is a notoriously poor public speaker, but the fact that he just straight up says "best case scenario twenty-five percent of you are dead before sunset" is ridiculous. Kristen Applebees could give a more inspiring speech than this.

Everyone in that room must be questioning their life choices tbh

Current Thoughts

I know they all volunteered, and I know that there's a protectiveness that comes with fighting for your hometown, but Jesus Christ there should be an age limit for fighting Endbringers. Signing up the teenagers to fight Nazis is already a bit rough, but the kaiju who is going to kill a bunch of them feels like someone should have pulled them back. It might technically have been the wrong decision given how critical kids like Flechette and Skitter end up being, but at least then I'd feel less judgmental of the people running this show.

Anyhow. God Taylor just keeps ending up being lonely, huh? Can't escape it, poor girl.