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cosmos-coma · 8 months

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My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

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Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.”

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened.

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.

He should have listened.

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высок��я, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.

“Oh. I-”

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.

“I can’t do this without you…”

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…”

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

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juliasgoodusername · 2 years

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Sometimes a girl has to go a little crazy. Sometimes a girl has to make a book-accurate floorplan for 300 Fox Way. These things just happen, sometimes.

Obsessive annotations under the cut ✨ but be warned, there's a LOT

Exterior

Okay first of all, I'm no architect, and my only knowledge comes from work experience in the real estate industry + a lot of Sims. The style is sort of neo-rural French colonial. I didn't set out to adhere to that standard so much as I made an amalgamation of homes in Blue Ridge Mountains-adjacent towns in Virginia. Specifically, my headcanon Henrietta template is Orange, VA (I'll save that explanation for another post) so I took inspiration from real estate listings from there.

Alright alright I know there is supposed to be one bathroom, but I simply can't tolerate that in a house with 6+ residents. I can't. There was a possible contradiction in the descriptions of "the single shared bathroom" that I used as an excuse to add a 3/4 bath, and I threw in a powder room for free. Because technically there is still only one full bathroom! But seriously with that many women over 30 most of them probably have IBS or chronic constipation and I'm not making them all share a toilet.

Officially we only have 4 bedrooms listed in text: Blue's, Persephone's, Maura's, and Calla and Jimi's shared one. Everyone else gets rooms that don't qualify as bedrooms via Virginia residential building codes (such as the attic, obviously, which falls below the combined ceiling height and square footage requirements). That really just leaves Orla unaccounted for but I'll get to that later. Other aunts and friends seem to visit during the day and live somewhere else, because in The Raven King only Jimi and Orla were described as needing to move out of the house during the demon stuff.

I designed the entire interior floorplan before I even touched the exterior, so there's a few issues, like how I'm totally missing shutters on the windows that functionally need them most. 🫶 I didn't feel like making the windows smaller to fit them, and I could have added faux-shutters but I think those are stupid. 😘

First floor

"This house is lovely. So many walls. So, so many walls," Malory said as Blue entered the living room a little later.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Chapter 30

Right off the bat, we have an insane number of doors and walls. Old colonial houses are pretty much the opposite of open concept. Functionally I believe that's because it's easier to control heat with closed off rooms, but Virginia is not particularly cold so idk. As for the number of doors, I mean....😤😤😤 I prefer archways/doorless frames in small high-traffic spaces, but every time I thought I could get away with it Maggie would specifically describe doors opening and closing (For example BL,LB Ch 41 gives the reading room double doors, and even the living room gets one in Ch 11. What kind of living room needs a door???). I'm actually missing one of the doorways described in canon, but if you know which one I'm talking about I DARE you to find a place to put that thing!! But I digress.

“Mom," she said as she jumped down the crooked stairs.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

I'm liberally using "crooked" to establish the corner turn stairs. Blue steadies herself on the stair railing when she identifies Gansey for the first time (TRB Ch 15), so I wanted the stairs to have good visual access to visitors. It also sort of has a feng shui-ish effect of separating the public and private energy zones in the house. If that statement made zero sense, I think one of us doesn't know enough about feng shui 👀 and it might be me.

I'm also using that quote to establish Maura's room downstairs, if Blue generally expects to find her mother there, but mostly because everything else was upstairs and it was getting hard to fit. Granted, at one point Blue leads the boys "up the stairs to Maura's bedroom" (TDT Epilogue) but since they were just arriving at 300 Fox Way those stairs could easily be the outdoor ones. There's a handful of little things to support me here, such as Adam grabbing a scrying bowl from Maura's room to use in the reading room (BL,LB Ch 41) implying that her room was the closest place to find one. And speaking of Maura's room-

Calla was overwhelmed by how much shit Maura had in her room at 300 Fox Way, and she told Blue this.

... The mess was taking years from her life. ... Maura liked chaos.

... The psychic hotline rang in the room next door. Calla's concentration fluttered away.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Prologue

Maura is my favorite hypocrite. She claims to detest clutter (TRB Ch 34) and yet her room is literally described as chaos. She probably treats her room like a college student and moves the furniture every time she gets bored/stressed. Thus, I gave her the most insane furniture configuration I could think of while still matching all the contents described.

The phone ringing next door might imply that she neighbors the phone/sewing/cat room, but that area is pretty well described and Maura's room is never mentioned there in any other instance. That leaves us with the kitchen phone (TRB Ch 27) which I put in the hallway with kitchen access as a compromise so it would technically still be in a room next to Maura's.

In the reading room, the man looked around with clinical interest. His gaze passed over the candles, the potted plants, the incense burners, the elaborate dining room chandelier, the rustic table that dominated the room, the lace curtains, and finally landed on a framed photograph of Steve Martin.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 13

There are so many quotes about the reading room that I just don't feel like citing them, but other details include the mismatched chairs, the shelves, doors etc. It's also described specifically as Maura's "front room" (TRB Prologue) so it's one of the cornerstones that I designed the rest of the layout around. Because of the plants, it makes sense that this room would be south-facing too. (Although idk how much light they get with the wraparound porch awning in the way. Oops lol!)

The outside suddenly seemed vivid in comparison to the dim kitchen. The April-bright trees pressed against the windows of the breakfast area, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue Stormed into 300 Fox Way's kitchen and began a one-sided interrogation with Artemus, who was still hidden behind the closed storage closet door.

- The Raven King, Chapter 9

Likewise, I'm using the particularly dim kitchen to place it on the north side, where we also know there's trees in the backyard.

I'll say the kitchen layout is weirder than it strictly needed to be because in the Virginia homes I referenced I adored all the strange kitchens, especially with old timey 'servants area' vibes where laundry kitchen and pantry are all connected. Instead of a kitchen island, they get one of those rolling kitchen carts which I doubled as a bar cart for the drinks they have in the living room.

The kitchen has a doorway to the hall (TRB Ch 13) and the living room is within view when Blue's on the kitchen phone (Ch 27).

Speaking of chapter 27, that's when we get the description "The morning light through the windows turned the drinks a brilliant, translucent yellow." So I put the living room on the east side of the house, where the rising sun would cast really strong light like that.

Second Floor

When she woke up, her normally morning-bright room had the breath-held dimness of afternoon. In the next room over, Orla was talking to either her boyfriend or to one of the psychic hotline callers.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue headed toward the red-painted door at the end of the hall. On her way, she had to pass the frenzy of activity in the Phone/Sewing/Cat Room and the furious battle for the bathroom. The room behind the red door belonged to Persephone, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 11

Blue's room and the Phone/Sewing/Cat room are our cornerstones for this floor. In several examples we know that the Phone/Sewing/Cat room faces the street and has a window (TRB Ch 15, BL,LB Ch 4). While Blue's room is "morning-bright," we also get descriptions of guests at the front door "backlit by the evening sun," (TRB Ch 15) so once again we're probably talking about south windows if it's sunlit at both times of day.

Adam sat awkwardly on the edge of Blue's bed. It felt strange to have so easily gained access to a girl's bed- room. If you knew Blue at all, the room was unsurprising - canvas silhouettes of trees stuck to the walls, leaves hanging in chains from the ceiling fan, a bird with a talk bubble reading WORMS FOR ALL painted above a shelf cluttered with buttons and about nine different pairs of scissors. Against the wall, Blue self-consciously taped up the drooping branch on one of the trees.

- The Dream Thieves, Chapter 49

We get some great descriptions of Blue's room (especially TRB Ch 43), although the above one is my favorite (#wormsforall). Every piece of furniture is accounted for exactly as described except the desk which I added because it seemed practical, and Blue is nothing if not practical™.

Persephone's room is also very well-described, all the way down to the furniture and lighting placement (BL,LB Ch 4 and TRB Ch 11) and it's surprisingly similar to Blue's room, if not a bit smaller. Her room gets strong afternoon sunlight, so I put it on the south too (BL,LB Ch 43).

Calla and Jimi share a room that's also upstairs (TRK Ch 16). Because they are the only two who have to share a room, I have justified that it must be the "master bedroom" (sorry for using that term) and is far bigger than the other bedrooms. I managed to fit two queen beds in there, but some scholars [me] would argue that Jimi and Calla might also share a bed because they are in love. Can you prove me wrong? No, you can't.

As for the bathroom, remember when I mentioned a possible contradiction? Famously, Maura draws the ley line symbol in the steamed up shower door (TRB Ch 1). However, much later we get Maura, Orla, Calla and Jimi all sitting in the bathtub for some kind of ritual (TRK Ch 9). No matter how I picture it, I can't put 4 full grown women in a bathtub together without someone partially sitting on/spilling over the side. But that would be impossible in a combo bath/shower enclosed by glass doors!! Thus, I gave The Bathroom a nice tub and put a small shower in the en suite of Jimi and Calla's room. I know this is a stretch but I don't really care.

Attic

Blue had never been a big fan of the attic, even before Neeve moved in. Numerous slanting roof lines provided dozens of opportunities to hit your head on a sloping ceiling. Unfinished wood floorboards and areas patched with prickly plywood were unfriendly to bare feet. Summer turned the attic into an inferno.

... In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other in perpetuum.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 34

Trying to fit the attic access in after everything in the second floor was my biggest challenge, because stairs normally take up a lot of space and you have to be careful about head room. I'm the end, I decided it was one of those fold out attic doors that you have to reach from the ceiling of the hallway. We might get a lot of instances of the attic door being opened (😤 seriously, Maggie... 😤) but technically a trap door in the ceiling is still a door!

Dormers pretty much cemented the French colonial style for me. And you know the drill by now: a hot room probably means a lot of sun, which means I give it a south facing window!

Mud Room/Cellar/Basement

This cellar has absolutely zero mention in the text, but my justification is based in the architecture. So far we've got a funky old colonial house, built without a garage, lots of walls etc. Especially in a low-income/semi-rural area, it's not crazy to assume that 300 Fox Way was built before most residents had refrigerators (1930s-40s). Besides iceboxes, a major way to keep food fresh was root cellars. Modern renovations for old homes convert these to concrete basements, but that's why the basement is so small and connects to the kitchen.

My headcanon is that Orla originally shared a room. Pick whoever you want: Maura, Blue or Persephone, any of them would easily be such a chaotic roommate that Orla snapped and in a fit of teen girl rage moved herself down to the crummy dark basement. Over time, she made efforts to glamorize it, such as a vintage dressing screen to hide the flood drainage pump. The privacy also allows her to bring boyfriends over, even sneaking them through the mud room.

This is really just my artistic license, but I swear it makes a surprising amount of sense in context. There's cases of Orla sneaking into the kitchen (easier if she has a back entrance) and she's almost always using the phone upstairs or in the kitchen (because a basement would get bad reception) even though her calls get kinda ~intimate.

Aaaaaand I think that's everything. Sorry it doesn't look like the photo from the wiki at all, but I couldn't find a source for it and Victorian style wasn't super common in the areas I researched. Let me know if I missed anything major! I'll probably cry myself to sleep if so.

#happy hyperfixation friday everyone #January was a weird month for me ngl this was one of my more hinged projects if you can believe it #please don't let this flop tho like this definitely took longer than any drawing I've ever posted here #trc #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fanart #300 Fox Way #Blue Sargent #the raven boys #my art #trc unraveled

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blanche-elizabeth-devereaux · 1 year

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Embroidery inspired by the ladies of RDR2

Unfortunately I wasn't able to go to Tombstone Redemption this year 💔 but I still wanted to make gifts for each of the actresses on the panel! I picked a quote and an item that I felt represented each of their characters and then created design around it (the abundance of flowers is simply because I enjoy making them lol)

(counterclockwise starting at the bottom right- Tilly, Sadie, Grimshaw, Mary-Beth and Karen)

I know I'm missing a few! I still have ideas for Abigail, Molly & Mary (technically the set isn't complete yet). However, I decided to focus on these characters first, since their actresses were part of the Tombstone lineup. And thank you SO MUCH to @arthur-kilgore for taking everything with them & gifting it on my behalf ♥️

Details & close ups under the cut!

Tilly Jackson: "That's Mrs. Tilly to you"

(please ignore the water patch - it was still drying)

The necklace was her item request in the game, and I loved the contrast her quote showed (& thank you @big-boah for helping me decide ♥️). There was such a great difference between the last time we saw her in chapter 6 and when John finds her again in the epilogue. Her obvious joy is amazing and exactly what Arthur wanted for her.

Karen Jones: "I just want someone to see me"

The bottle represents her struggle with loss & drink, and the quote was spoken in a moment of vulnerability with Sean. This is one of my favorite quotes to come from the entire game, actually. Karen is normally viewed as a determined and tough character, as one of the only women to actively do guard duty, but we briefly saw behind that mask. The reality of her inner struggles, even before Sean's death, was heartbreaking.

Mary-Beth: "Try... try to do the good thing"

The book is obviously to show Mary-Beth's ambitions and eventual career as a novelist. Her optimism always seemed genuine in the face of the gang's terrible circumstances, but not blindly so. Her words to Arthur during the gang's final stages felt like a great representation of her character.

Susan Grimshaw: "My camp, my rules"

The heart is supposed to show how much love she held for the gang, even behind a mask of anger. The entire scene where she forces Arthur to wash is both hilarious and insightful. You can tell it's her form of care - rules equal safety. When she says "my camp" she really means "my family"

Sadie Adler: "I ain't no scullion!"

I wanted something that represented the first spark of fight we saw in her, which, for me, was during her fight with Pearson in chapter 3. She asserts her role in the gang, wielding both experience and determination. The passion, anger and pain in the face of her grief is one of the reasons I love her character so much.

#red dead redemption 2 #the van der lind ladies #sadie adler #tilly jackson #mary beth gaskill #karen jones #susan grimshaw #rdr2 #hand embroidery #my embroidery #altogether it took about 35 hours #you can really tell i'm not a professional lol

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kirain · 7 months

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your gale takes actually got me to look deeper into forgotten realms lore (esp where it pertains to the afterlife) and long story short i’m at least a little bit fixated on it now and also will go to bat for that wizard basically at any point. also wild magic. i’ve been reading so much about wild magic, it’s so so interesting. esp wild magic sourced from the far realm and the implications that could have for a wild magic mage in esp the bg3 setting

Thank you, I'm so glad to hear that! I'm still learning about the lore myself (there's so much), and we should all be thanking Larian for introducing so many new people to D&D!

Wild magic is insane, and I had a great time using it with my sorcerer. The magic system in general is truly fascinating, as is its history in context of the game. It's just too bad it's linked to a god. I think I've said this before, but an irksome detail about Mystra is that she technically isn't a "bad" god, but she should definitely keep her fingers to herself. Every iteration has done objectively horrible things to mortals, but because she's written by a man who clearly favours her (in my humble opinion) nothing she does is presented as wrong. 😒

These asks actually reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine. He basically said, "Elminster is on Mystra's side and he cares about Gale, so obviously Mystra is right." But here's the thing:

Not only is Eliminster a really annoying self-insert made by Ed Greenwood, the creator of the Forgotten Realms (and I mean that literally, he's admitted he's a self-insert), but Eliminster has also had ... "relations" with his surrogate daughter. He's betrayed his friends for Mystra. He's killed arguably innocent people. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't look to him for moral guidance. He also slept with the previous iterations of Mystra and blindly follows her commands, so he might just be a teensy bit biased. In fact, if you look at various forums, you'll see a lot of players complaining about the character's irritating Gary Stu status, and that Dungeon Masters hate putting him in their campaigns.

Elminster will never question Mystra, because in his mind she's a perfect being who deserves everything, including people's lives; ignoring the fact that pretty much every god in D&D is canonically flawed. He's the type of person who would tell a grieving parent that God took their recently deceased child for "reasons we cannot comprehend".

He says he took no pleasure in burdening Gale with her ultimatum, but let's be real—he wasn't that hurt by it. In fact, the Elminster we meet in game isn't even real. It's a snow clone. He couldn't be bothered to visit Gale, who he apparently respects and cares about, in person. The only time he shows any genuine emotion towards Gale is in the ascended epilogue, when he writes him a disappointed letter. And I wouldn't be surprised if that disappointment is more about him challenging Mystra than actually achieving godhood.

Though it should be said that Elminster is also a victim of Mystra. The iteration before Midnight (current Mystra) groomed and abused him for a millenia, yet for some reason we, the audience, are supposed to pretend there's nothing wrong with that. If anything, we're supposed to view it as "sexy". As if Gale and Elminster are "lucky" to have caught her attention.

Reading up on the lore surrounding these two is truly horrifying. Elminster is old enough now that his actions are informed and unforgivable. He helps Mystra groom boys to exploit and never questions her. He's not merely complacent, he's active in her ploys. Despite his numerous heroic feats, I personally can't overlook it, especially when he could have been Gale's biggest defender.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #larian studios #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #bg3 mystra #elminster #lore

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surreal-duck · 2 months

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you've really interested me in midoyuzu with your fantastic art (and writing!!)... are there particular stories you recommend for seeing them interact??

aaaah thank you so much!!! (╯▽╰ ) esp for the writing i wasnt really all confident in it skjdgkjdsgdhg and boy do i!!

first off if you're looking for how they essentially got to the point where midori became his fan, you can read christmas live for that! its a pretty blink and you'll miss it thing in the prologue + epilogues that otherwise doesn't pop up much, but it really is the staple interaction that caused the rest of their relationship to be. like that LOL (also its a general rly good story for 2wink and the ryusei juniors so go give it a read!!) technically they Did sort of already previously meet/interact in supernova and music festa but both were set prior to winter of y1 so midori had yet to really be a fan ksjdgjkshdg

afterwards theres this little bit of interaction they had in jingle bells (tori and fine story. also rly good go read it. please i love tori) and a couple of mentions of midori but going without those is fine too. has one of my favorite yuzuru lines though what did he say this for abt her

home party is also a rly fun one! this one you can go through the wayback machine through the wiki for (though incomplete so heres a tl from ch3 and on), and the CN exclusive workplace survival rules. that's pretty much it for ! era stories but i do recall midori offhandedly mentioning him in his part of zodiac

from !! era, there's yuzuru's fs1 story, and whispering marina, the izumi scout story with no full fan tl online and just the engstars tl </3 it rly is cute though, the two are part of a PR job along with izumi and himeru for a beach gig and midoris constantly giddy around him kjsdgkjgdgh. there's also the 3* story let's try DIY that came out last year and kind of changed my life. and also midori's i suppose as DIY is even listed as one of his hobbies now LOL

i thinkk thats pretty much it for now other than some mentions here and there in a few stories, like in grand slam (!! era sports festival), midori's 2022 birthday event talks, yuzuru's office birthday cake interaction, the 8th anni minitalks and the ryusei climax stella maris ^^

#sorry im a bit insane #i know you said 'recommend' and yet i dropped the entire list of every single time they did interact. hope this helps though!!#asks #candidate-enhydra #midoyuzu #i remember seeing the 3* last year and went oh cute shes holding a saw and was Not prepared for the sudden jumpscare #thank you for the singular crumb #they're also on each others dokisuta relationship charts!!! midori's labelled as a ''huge fan'' of yuzuru's #and yuzuru's towards him is just. very puzzled and perplexed by akjgsdhgsmgkjdh im obsessed

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idsfantasy · 5 months

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I'm sorry if you've gotten this kind of info already, but one of the points you used in that video about Burntrap/Glitchtrap being Afton was him saying "I always come back," which you claim is something the Mimic wouldn't know, but it did know that. Fnaf 6 is shown to be a game in universe just like the rest of them.

Glitchtrap is likely a different branch of the Mimic1 code specifically designated for copying William long term.

There's also a line in Special Delivery. Luis says that Vanessa searched up "How to induce compliance in human subjects" which not only implies that what's possessing her isn't human in any way, but it's something that William would never need to do given that he's a master manipulator.

As for the memory plushies, those likely either come from the Mimic giving you the data it got about them from the VR game, or it's Glitchtrap giving you your own memories that you lost to place you in a vulnerable position given that those memories are likely traumatic ones.

We saw how Afton died anyway, his Agony and Remnant was cleansed by the Puppet in Fazbear's Fright's. There would be nothing left to bring him back. The Princess is going after the monster copying the murderer, not the murderer himself.

Also I'm like 90% sure that the devs of Security Breach thought that Burntrap was supposed to be Afton. I recall Baz saying once when he met Scott at the fnaf movie set that there was a miscommunication involving one of the games endings.

Sorry if this is a mess. Just thought all this was worth pointing out. Have a good one.

The video for those interested:

youtube

I don't think that Mimic was plugged into Pizzeria Simulator like it theoretically would have been into Help Wanted. It's possible I guess, but I still think it doesn't make sense for it to latch onto that line, or know what William heard in UCN.

When would that designation have been made and by whom? It wouldn't have been for Help Wanted based on Tape Girl's descriptions nor Mr. Burrows's.

Technically there are other things you can try to induce compliance in. A dog or other pet for example. "Human subjects" just specifies the search. Not to mention, it wouldn't necessarily be literally Glitchtrap doing the searching. Vanessa was talking to computers in AR, and we hear her talking to Glitchtrap in the og HW. He manipulated her mind to make her listen to him, but I think that was more Vanessa looking something up in order to do what Glitchtrap asked her to.

The unused lines specifically refer to the memories as belonging to "it", not the player, so I doubt that would be the case, and where in the VR game would it have specifically gotten the data for all 5 MCI kids and Charlie? Why would they be called its memories if they weren't actually Glitchtrap's memories. Who's code remains if the "his code" isn't William's?

If you're referring to William getting dumped in the lake at the end of the Frights epilogues, there are quite a few reasons I think Frights and Stitchline are a separate continuity from the game timeline. Why would the Princess be around to find out about a copycat and care? He's not the one who she's mad at in that case.

I personally recall a misquote/misattribution of some sort that spread around on that topic. I'll need the timestamped video to confirm that preferably, but in any case, I highly doubt Scott didn't even glance at Burntrap's design before release to notice that something was wrong, and as I mentioned in my video, if Steel Wool was trying to correct things and connect the Mimic to Burntrap, they would have at least made the two have more visual connection than a hand that isn't even actually identical and was already reused from a nightmare animatronic.

While I see where you're coming from, I don't think any of those points negate the evidence I have in the video that you didn't address, though the video was long so I understand why you wouldn't bring it all up. Either way though, I personally think it makes a lot more sense from both an evidence, narrative, and storytelling perspective for Burntrap to be William. Totally cool if you believe differently though! I hope you have a good day as well :D

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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months

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Tripping over a possible BG3 epilogue; how do you think the ascension of a new god of Ambition would impact Bane? Is Bane even still a god after Jergal shoos him away? Is there a court battle involved, or are Tyranny and Ambition hashing out jurisdiction and territory through mortal minions? Who tops this relationship? (is power dependent on the nature of the portfolio or the number of followers? because Gale has like 7 friends and a cat)

Bane definitely would try to take the portfolio, if he saw an opportunity (as would a few other gods. Lolth springs to mind). It's not guaranteed that he would succeed - he tried and failed to take war from Tempus - but ambition suits him very well and he'd want it.

Or he'd try to subjugate the new god of ambition and add him to the roster of 'servants.' With both of them having terrifically bad relationships with Mystra, whose power I imagine both covet, alliances wouldn't necessarily be out of the picture, but, oh, the ego clash. ... and in this moment I feel it in my waters: somebody somewhere ships god-Gale and Bane. Or possibly just Gale/Bane.

Or if Bane and Gale end up fighting, it's possible that Gale and Mystra would have to grit their teeth and play nice for a bit.

A god of ambition could theoretically take a chunk out of Bane's pool of worshippers, as many of them are the ruthlessly ambitious looking to climb the ranks. But mostly they're going to end up sharing worshippers, because these people are going to be making offerings to both.

As an out-of-universe thing, ultimately, Gale would lose ground to Bane just like Cyric did. Simply because of the status-quo of the setting. Bane is apparently one of those annoying inescapable, fundamental cornerstones of the settings existence. He's slightly everywhere and it drives me insane.

He's the BBEG. When 3.5e rolled around Bane was the one of the Dead Three they brought back. He's in paragraphs in books that should have nothing to do with him. Bane is fucking inescapable.

And not to diminish Gale's delightful levels hubris but I'm... actually not sure that Gale is more ambitious than Bane, though I'd certainly be interested to see that theory tested. Perhaps Gale simply hasn't had enough decades, world shaking plots and insane god-killing challenges to power through to show that he's the most ambitious.

As for the rest of it... oh, the nonsense that is 5e and divine rank on Toril, with BG3 making it even more confusing. Because we can't go an edition without fucking with the gods, nooo, that'd make life too easy...

A god's power is still determined by the amount of worship they receive, as far as I know. Worship given out of love and devotion is worth more than that given out of fear (hence why the dead three have more 'pleasant' aspects as a bringer of law/stability, a custodian of the dead and the dying, and a bringer of retributive violence to the desperate... and why Bhaal is the weakest out of the three, because even 'good' murder is not in high demand, so he's not seeing much devotion outside of his loving and loyal homicidal maniacs).

Bane is still a god; we're never truly getting rid of him any more than we're getting rid of Mystra.

How much power he's supposed to have escapes me. The Dead Three have been described as walking Faerûn in to bypass restrictions placed on the gods at the end of the Sundering (meant to keep gods from messing directly with the mortal world). And that's all the information I have on that. Presumably it's a Time of Troubles type deal: they can hang around in a non-corporeal state or possess mortals as avatars (and change to a new host when one dies). They can still do some miracles, draw power from their worshippers and grant divine magic, so long as their worshippers are in range. Their divine domains remain intact, even if they can't visit.

Here Gale technically has a minor advantage, standing at the rank just above quasi-deity, so he should have more power. But he also has less experience, a less established/influential church, less followers, less allies, more restrictions...

Gale has maybe 7 friends he can maybe call on. He doesn't have a cat, as Tara can't bear to look at him. He can make an army of not-Taras though, I guess. At six months old, I'm not sure Gale's done much divine networking yet. His best bets if he wants to fight Bane are Bane's old enemies: Torm, Cyric (nope), Mystra (HA!), Tempus, Helm, Lathander (probably your best bet), Oghma (allied with Mystra), and Ilmater (who is a bit humble to be getting along with Ambition)

I'd say Tempus and Lathander will have the most overlap.

Assuming the Dead Three and their alliances still stand, Bane can call on both Bhaal and Myrkul for aid, as well as Loviatar, Talona and Mask. If Bhaal and Myrkul still have their old alliances then Hoar and Shar might be convinced to get involved under the right circumstances.

There's also an obstacle keeping any friction between them low because Gale can't do anything much on Toril, actively, and the Dead Three are currently barred from the planes, so they can't reach each other to do anything unless they act through their priesthoods (although I guess the Three could personally murder his followers and burn his temples; Gale would have to direct his followers to counter this or attack them, he can't do it directly).

If Bane wasn't hanging out on Toril then they'd still be fighting mostly through their mortal worshippers. Although I imagine they'd have interesting interactions on Cynosure (a neutral meeting ground for the gods, connecting all their domains).

#Ah divine politics my only love.#This is mostly me babbling a bunch of thoughts I think.#The Gale fans who overlap with the Banefuckers might provide a more interesting/nuanced take #/gale #the idiot three #babbling #long post

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astrum99 · 8 months

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Of course I have to write something with the new lore drop on Gabriel's pronouns:') Anyways: sets around the 3-2 epilogue.

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It was unfair. It was absolutely unfair.

He had done his assignments to perfection for millennia, for eons. Slayed enemies by the orders of the Father, the council. He tore away the seat of the judge within hell and sat there for as long as he was told to. He spilled blood without thinking, because he trusted them to make the right call, because how can God be wrong? How can the council be wrong?

He knelt in front of them. Body low and curled. Head drooped like his wings. Shame and pain stewed and bloomed from his first fail, due to an abomination of a machine that defies all odds. He needed to warn the council and purge the machine once more with some additional helping hands.

Yes, he needed their support now more than ever, but they were not sparing him a single glance. They looked away as if it were them that were hurt. He couldn’t get a single word in before the tremendous voices of the council overwhelmed him. The repulsion in their voice wormed its way into his veins and turned to ice. It pinned him to the cold marble flooring. Not a single explanation was given a place. He can’t get a word in before they cut him off. How can they judge without letting the defendant speak?

He was injured, he was bleeding. His wounds were open, pulsing, still burning badly from the piercing of the relentless gunfire. Yet here he was, kneeling and grovelling like a creature, a husk. The council spared him no mercy, no sympathy. No offers for healing or rest. Only utter disgust and resentment. “Heresy,” their voice echoed, louder and louder.

They stripped him of his rank, of his pride. They called him it. As if he was nothing more than a young, bumbling virtue. His work, his devotion, his absolute loyalty – they acknowledged none of his offerings, his sacrifices. They refused to listen. Instead, the light was cruelly ripped out of him.

For a brief second, he was not sure if the scream was coming from his bleeding throat (it was). The next second came the crashing pain: in his delirious state, he was uncertain if he’d been disembowelled and eviscerated in the process (technically, his organs were physically fine, but the light was rooted in every cell of his, and the extrication was... far from gentle).

He woke with a hollow feeling in hell. He supposed they had tossed him there to save the trip. Alone. Isolated. Still hurt. How unfair to make him go on like this.

At that moment, a part of him realized that he did not matter to them. They did not love him. They only loved his work, his devotion, his loyalty. Like a dog. He shook himself and refrained. He could not possibly entertain the thought if he wished to go on. He was given an opportunity to prove himself, and he must rise once more to earn back their respect (because it was the only thing he knew). So if he cannot fill the emptiness from the light with love, he supposes hatred will do just fine.

He gazed upward and absolutely did not think about how he found more comfort in the familiar darkness of hell than the cold marbled floors of heaven.

He had work to do.

#ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #PRONOUNS #wooooooo #az thoughts #genderless angel my beloved #yea this was rough bc I wanna get this out asap #this is a fun one tho #very much parallel to lgbtq+ kids realizing their parents only wanted an ideal image of them:’)

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cophene · 3 months

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epilogue || ★ ⁺ — EVERY THIEF WORTH THEIR SALT.

previous chapter || author's note || table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 8.1k+

★˚⋆ ASIDE FROM THE OBVIOUS PERKS, it turned out that being the richest man in the galaxy also allowed you to equip your cruisers with their own Bend Gates.

Fugo had tried to explain to you the specifics, but all you knew was that the cruiser you had stolen from Zero had been capable of some kind of space-bending ability like the Gates. It was apparently very new and very dangerous tech. Only a few prototype vessels in the galaxy had the capability thus far, and even then, most people couldn't predict where they would end up once they used it.

Technically speaking, your crew could have ended up in a black hole and everyone would have died. It had been a risk, but a laughable one compared to the looming possibility of your pilot's death.

So your crew had used it. It halved the time you needed to get to the Palaceship, which was lucky, considering Donatello had seen fit to up the execution time as well. Without too much trouble, your crew had snuck on board the Palaceship.

Giorno managed to keep a grip on Narancia's body until the crew found Narancia's cell in the brig. He collapsed then, and the crew had the pleasure of watching souls switch for yet a second time. It was all a very tenuous affair. Souls, when you came down to it, were weak and wispy things. When Narancia and Giorno came to, they were back in their respective bodies.

Finally.

From there, it would only have been a matter of finding Rikiel and then the Emperor to let him know of the mixup.

But apparently that was too easy. Giorno wanted to do better.

And that was how your crew had come to beat up a few guards, steal their uniforms, and escort Giorno to his own execution. You supposed the extra hassle was worth the look on Donatello's face when all was finally revealed but only barely. If it had been anyone else, you probably would have been executed yourself for your tomfoolery.

But the Emperor was ... the Emperor. No one was executed. Actually, he seemed quite amused about the whole thing, which said a lot more about him than you cared to analyze.

After the execution was called off, you contacted Sheila to let her know that she was off the hook, but she had never responded. You couldn't even be sure that she had followed your crew to the Palaceship at all. In any case, you hoped that she was out in the galaxy living her best life. She could do whatever the hell she wanted, so long as she was doing it on her own terms. Maybe a memoir about her time with Zero was in the works.

And so, that was it. Zero was dead. Giorno had the Stand Arrow. Everyone was back in their proper bodies. While Giorno dealt with the debacle of his recent resurrection and then near-execution, he was kind enough to grant you and the crew your own private set of suites on the third floor of the Palaceship. He was clear that you were free to stay for as long as you needed and that no harm would come to you while you did.

You took up the invitation gratefully. For the past week, you had been holed up in your room, catching up on weeks worth of missed sleep and eating your weight in savoury tarts. That was all you had been doing. You hadn't spoken to anyone in your crew. Hadn't even seen any of them since Narancia and Giorno switched back into their bodies.

You were hiding. That was the truth. Looking back, you were ashamed of yourself for allowing Zero to control you. You regretted being so impulsive, so headstrong. You had put your crew, and unwittingly, the entire galaxy at risk. If even one thing had gone differently, none of you would be alive right now and the galaxy would be completely within Zero's grip. And worst of all, you had nothing to show for your efforts. Your crew was still as poor as you had been before you'd started all of this.

You were a complete and utter failure. You had promised your crew everything and now they were just lucky to be alive. You were such a shit captain. More than once you considered pulling a Bruno and just disappearing into the night. No one would have minded, probably. None of your crew had even bothered to visit you since your retreat from society.

Still, that didn't mean you weren't aware of what was going on with the rest of your crew. The part of you that cared about them wouldn't die that easily.

Narancia had been whisked off for immediate medical treatment. Surgery, from what you had heard, and then cybernetic fitting and calibration.

Abbacchio was working closely with the Imperial family and the GA's to deal with the aftermath of Zero's death. It was nowhere near as exciting as killing the man himself, but it was necessary, time-consuming work.

Trish had been rallied for public relations work. She had somehow managed to become the spokesperson for Passione, and now handled all interviews and news briefings about your crew's involvement with Zero.

Bruno was in the midst of importing and sorting all of Polnareff's research, mainly the parts most pertinent to Stands. Fugo was helping him, and the two of them spent entire days squirrelled away in the Palaceship's data room.

And Mista had somehow gotten caught up with the Imperial guard. Not in a bad way, but he'd fallen in with their training and regiments. It reminded him of his military days, you supposed. You had left the Imperial Army because you hadn't cared for it, but Mista probably would have stuck with it if it weren't for you.

In short, everyone was moving on with their lives. You were the only one still caught upin the wake of Zero's death.

It pained you, how apart your crew was. It made you realize just how much you had been hiding from them, and how much they had been hiding from you. So many secrets and back-handed plans and two-faced comments. You had always thought you'd assembled the perfect crew, that your trust in each other was complete.

Complete flack, more like.

A week later, there was a knock on your suite door. You had started leaving your suite a few times a day to use the gym facilities or to grab your own food. You always made sure to do it when no one else was around, though.

For a long moment, you considered not answering the door. You still weren't ready to face your crew. You had no idea what to say.

You swiped your hand down to lock the door. The stupid sensor made the door open instead.

"Oh. It's just you."

Abbacchio raised an eyebrow. Better him than someone else on the crew. Abbacchio, you could deal with.

"Am I interrupting something?"

You smiled dryly. Abbacchio knew as well as anyone else that you hadn't been doing anything but sit on your ass all week.

"You're doing well, I hope?" he said.

"As well as can be expected. What about you?"

He shrugged. He was dressed in a grey button-down and slacks. A thick coat was slung over his shoulder.

"I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye...? Wait, are you going back to work?"

"I have to make a living somehow, unlike you."

"You basically saved the galaxy. Giorno could put you on a lifelong pension if you wanted."

"Despite what you may think, I actually enjoy being a GA. Prince Giorno may have granted Passione an official pardon, but I'm still hoping I'll be able to use you for a much-needed promotion. That is, assuming you don't go back to theft, Captain."

"Yeah, no, I think that's behind us now." You tried for levity, but you couldn't keep the sadness out of your voice. If you could have kept plundering the galaxy forever with your crew, you would have. You lived for the thrill of pulling off a heist and stealing things people thought were locked up tight.

"No one's stopping you from going back," Abbacchio said carefully.

"I guess. But it wouldn't be with Passione anymore, and that takes out half the fun."

Abbacchio studied your face. "I don't know what kind of funk you're in, but I hope you're not blaming yourself for any of this. None of it was your fault. You were under Zero's control and there was no way you could have prevented that. You saved the galaxy's ass. Don't undermine yourself."

If Giorno had had his way, you and the crew would have been hailed galactic heroes by now. But you weren't worthy of the recognition. You hadn't done shit.

"Whatever you say, Abbacchio."

Abbacchio pursed his lips.

"Why did you cover for Passione?" you asked. "You could have arrested us and moved on with your life. Why the cat and mouse chase? And no half-answers this time."

Abbacchio leaned against the doorframe. "When I was first starting out as a GA, I thought everything was black and white. When I found out it wasn't, it was hard for me to decide what made anything worth fighting for. If it was all going to go to shit, what was the point?

"I still struggle with that, but I think you've taught me a part of it, Captain. When you steal all of those items, it's not about the endgame. You just end up with more stuff. You do it for the thrill. You do it for the exhilaration. But deeper than that, you do it for your crew. Because you don't want them to suffer, and stealing is the best way you know of taking care of them."

You shifted, uncomfortable that Abbacchio had managed to strike so close to home. "I don't appreciate you analyzing me like that, Inspector."

Abbacchio shrugged. "I don't know if that's actually why you do it. But you've helped me realize that the process can be more important than the end. That altogether, the path you took to get to the end becomes the end you were looking for."

"I'm barely following, but alright. That sounds very profound."

Abbacchio shook his head. He pushed off the doorframe. "Well, I just wanted to come to say goodbye and I've done that. I wish you and your crew the best, Captain. I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other in the near future."

"You don't trust me to keep myself out of trouble?" you called as he walked away.

"Not in the slightest."

"Asswipe," you muttered.

"I heard that."

As the following days passed by, you found yourself saying goodbye to a lot more of your crew. Not that you meant to. It was just an inevitable happening. As you went between all of them to offer apologies, the conversation steered to farewells of its own volition.

"Giorno set me up with a great opportunity," Trish gushed as the two of you wheeled her things down to the bay of the Palaceship. She had a scarf tied over her hair and a long leather trench coat flapped about her feet. "I've always wanted to travel, and now this whole thing with Zero has given me some unexpected publicity. I'm going to use it to my advantage and become a travel influencer. Stars know I have the credits for it."

"That sounds great. I think that would fit you perfectly."

"You think? I have so many ideas but I have no idea if they're realistic or not. I'll probably have to find a manager or something so they can parse out my ideas. I'd love to visit all of the moon colonies. Maybe that will be a mini-series?"

You smiled slightly. You were happy for Trish, genuinely. If she was moving on from the crew, you wanted her to do something she was excited about. Those years she had spent on her spaceship colony had passed her by. Every time you had gone somewhere new, you had always turned to Trish to see the look of wonder and amazement on her face. She was always about living in the moment. Experiencing things for yourself was something of a rarity when so much of it could be done through tech. In that regard, you felt sure Trish's ideas would find an audience. Maybe even inspire people to go out on their own.

"What about you, Captain?" Trish asked. "What are you going to do? Get a new crew together and go back to heists?"

"I could," you said. "But they wouldn't be Passione."

Your chest tightened. Even now, when you weren't really a crew anymore and Trish was leaving, she still called you Captain. You felt woefully unworthy of the title.

You stopped in front of the small transport ship that would be taking Trish to the nearest Bend Gate. A few palace attendants stepped forward to take Trish's things and load them onto the ship.

"You're going to be alright, right? You're not just going to stay here forever, are you?"

"Would that be so bad?"

Trish shook her head. "It'd be a waste. You're meant for bigger things than sitting around."

"I'm still thinking about things. I don't really know where I want to end up yet."

"That's fair. You don't have to decide right away. So long as you do something that you actually want."

Trish had become a lot more worldly since you'd first met her aboard the Iris. A swell of pride surged in your chest.

"I wanted to thank you, Trish. For your time on the crew and everything you did for us. I was wrong to underestimate you when we first met. I'm so glad I changed my mind."

"I should be thanking you, Captain. You gave me a chance. Just like you gave everyone on the crew a chance. You believed in me, and pushed me to do better. You never once made me feel like I wasn't good enough."

"Don't puff me up so much. I nearly got you killed on multiple occasions."

"I knew what I was signing up for."

"I never should have taken the deal with Zero," you whispered. "We sacrificed so much, and for what?"

Trish hugged you then. You wrapped your arms around her, breathing in her spicy floral perfume. You would miss this scent. You would miss her pink updo and her sparkling eyes and her high, ringing laugh. You didn't want her to leave. You wanted to go back to the Iris so she could join your crew all over again.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me? We could explore the galaxy together. You're wickedly funny. I'm sure people would love you."

"I think I'm done with having my face plastered over holoscreens," you said. "I need some of my privacy back."

Trish buried her face in your shoulder. You didn't realize until later that she was trying to hide her misty eyes. "Captain, you are so incredibly selfless and determined. You're genuine, and strong, and you're not afraid to say what you think. I loved every minute I spent with Passione. I don't regret it one bit. You taught me so much and you changed who I am as a person. I will always owe you for that. I don't hold any of your decisions against you. You did what anyone would have done in your position."

Your eyes smarted. "I'm going to miss you, Trish."

"We'll see each other again. I'll make sure of it."

You held her for a long moment. You wanted to tell her so much, but that would make this seem like a goodbye and you wanted to see her again.

"Thank you for being a part of Passione and allowing me to be your Captain. I'll always be grateful."

Trish surprised you by kissing the corner of your mouth. When she drew back, her smile was blinding.

"Thank you for bringing me out into the galaxy, Captain."

You had known about Bruno and Fugo's departure for a while. The few times you had dropped by, they had been entirely engrossed with Polnareff's research. Fugo and Bruno had found a new tandem working with each other. If they hadn't been very close before, now they were connected by a newfound interest in Stands and the mechanics of energy surrounding them.

Giorno was being very generous with his cruisers. Whenever any one of your crew was ready to leave, he had a cruiser ready in the Palaceship's bay to take them wherever they wanted to go.

"So you're headed off to Minos?" you asked. Neither Bruno nor Fugo had brought very much with them. They would be travelling like true researchers, everything they needed on their holopads.

"Just to straighten out things in Polnareff's lab and wrap up some of his affairs," Bruno said. You were glad to see him looking so much better, dressed in a soft cream sweater and pleated trousers.

"I never would have expected the two of you to be so interested in his work," you commented. "It never occurred to me that Stands could be something to be studied." To you, Stands were just an extension of a person. Sometimes scary, sometimes cool, sometimes bewildering. You had never considered them as a phenomenon. A shifting of a person's energy, as Fugo liked to say now. You had a hard time thinking about Party Rock as any of that. You hadn't used its storage compartment once over the last little while.

"Anything can be studied," Bruno said. "You've never wondered why some people have Stands but not others? Why can Stands only be seen by people with other Stands, yet can still interact with and manipulate their surroundings? Why are some Stands sentient and not others? What determines long range versus remote Stands? And now there's this whole other dimension to them that comes with Requiem." Bruno sighed. Not as though he was tired, but as though he was acknowledging all of the work ahead of him. "There's a lot we need to understand."

"Ha. Under-Stand."

Bruno smiled crookedly at you. "You could always join us? We're planning on conducting interviews and creating a database of Stand users and their abilities. You might find it interesting."

"Maybe," you said vaguely. "I'll think about it. I think I still need time to process."

Bruno brushed your arm. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been withdrawn these past few weeks. I'm worried about you."

"You're always worried about something, Bruno."

"I can't help it. I don't give myself enough to worry about."

You laughed. "I'm fine, Bruno. I'm taking care of myself, talking to people. This whole thing has just given me a lot to think about."

"I could stay for a little longer. If you need someone to talk to."

"I made the mistake of keeping you with me when you wanted to leave already. I know when to let go now."

Bruno's face turned soft. "I made mistakes then too. I should have been clearer with you about what I wanted. I should have tried to help you understand. Disappearing was the worst thing I could have done."

"But you came back," you said. "Despite everything I said. Despite my disrespect. You still cared about the crew. It was like you'd never left. You still put your whole person into helping us. And when we switched souls, you took it in stride. I'm so sorry you had to watch me while I took off in your body and—"

"That was Zero, not you," Bruno interrupted. "I hope you're not still blaming yourself, Captain. Zero caused all of this. Not you."

"But I let myself be controlled. I should have known better. I should have fought harder."

"It's a miracle that you managed to hold out for as long as you did. I know you were fighting against him until the very end." Bruno pulled you to him. You were getting more hugs now than in the entire history of Passione, but you didn't mind.

"Bruno?"

"Yes?"

"You were the one who helped me fight against Zero. You were always in the back of my mind. Holding me accountable. Even though you weren't physically there, it was you I always turned to."

Bruno sighed, and you felt his breath stir against your ear.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Captain. You had to be, to keep Passione running for as long as it did. I didn't do as much as you think."

You let go of Bruno. "If you say so."

You heard footsteps approaching from behind you. Fugo was walking toward you, a briefcase in one hand and the other slipped into the pocket of his green corduroys.

"I'll let the two of you talk," Bruno said, slipping away.

"Is that really all you need?" you asked Fugo. "You're not going to bring anything else?"

"I'm used to packing light," Fugo said. "We'll be doing a lot of travelling anyway, so it doesn't seem worth it to bring too much."

"I'm still not sure what you and Bruno are going to be doing, exactly."

"Have you heard of the Speedwagon Foundation?"

"Is that some kind of underground cult?"

"Nothing so exciting." Fugo looked more relaxed than you'd ever seen him. The pensive lines bracketing his mouth were smooth and the shadows beneath his eyes had lightened. He must actually have been getting sleep now.

"The Speedwagon Foundation is a private galactic organization dedicated to advances in science, research and history. Polnareff was actually part of their 'supernatural' branch, if you want to call it that. Bruno and I are still in the application process, but if things go well, they might be willing to fund us and give us resources for more in-depth Stand research. I've heard there are few scientists from the Foundation who might be open to collaboration too."

You were impressed. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

Fugo nodded. "Entirely. All of this stuff with Requiem has piqued my curiosity. I think there's a lot of potential that Stands can tap into if we understand them better."

"Well this stuff sounds like it's right up your alley. I always thought your brains were wasted cracking safes open and making fake idents."

"I was glad to do it," Fugo sniffed. "Someone had to."

"That's not all you did. You took on so much work by yourself. I feel terrible about that. I called myself the Captain but I left all of the heavy lifting to you. I took you for granted, and I'm sorry for that." You blew out a breath. "I'm also sorry that I didn't listen to you when I should have. You were always right but I was too stubborn to listen. None of this stuff with Zero would have happened if I'd just listened to you."

"I wasn't always right," Fugo said. "You make me seem like a saint. I lashed out at everyone plenty. I'll admit to myself that I was quite the asshole sometimes." Fugo shifted his grip on his briefcase. "I make my decisions based on logic. The plan with the best odds. You make your decisions based on the crew. You consider everyone, and you try to minimize damage. You try to keep everyone happy. I can respect that."

"You do too," you said softly. "Everything you were doing behind the scenes. You kept us safe. I can't think of how many times we would have died if it weren't for you."

"Do you remember that conversation we had a long time ago? When you said you wouldn't be afraid of Purple Haze if I wasn't? I still think about that. It was the first time someone had said something so sincere to me."

"Don't try to make me cry, Fugo. I'm barely holding it together as it is."

Fugo didn't like hugs, but he tolerated a quick squeeze from you nonetheless.

"Thank you for everything," he said. "You were a brilliant Captain."

"And you were a brilliant engineer. I couldn't have asked for better."

He smiled. A tiny, fragile thing. "We'll be in touch."

"We will?"

"Bruno and I are still working on it, but we think there's a phenomenon that happens between Stand users."

"And what is that?"

"Stands users are drawn to each other. Have you noticed that? Out of the millions of people in the galaxy, Stand users always manage to seek each other out, however unconsciously."

"That's very poetic."

"Bruno's words, not mine. I think such a phenomenon directly contradicts the law of entropy in the world continually increasing."

You shook your head ruefully. "You have fun out there, Fugo. Look out for Bruno for me."

Fugo flicked his brow in a small salute. He made his way to the cruiser, where Bruno was waving from the door.

"Take care, Captain."

Narancia was probably the one you were most nervous about seeing. You had been informed that his surgery had been a success. The cybernetics fitting had had some complications, but Giorno had flown in top optometrists and cybernetics technicians to work extensively on Narancia.

You were afraid that he would somehow be different once he had recovered. His carefree demeanour would fall to the ground and he would realize just how shittily you had treated him, trampling all over his personal health in your haste to get the Stand Arrow. If you had just encouraged him to get medical treatment sooner, he might still have his eye. You would never forgive yourself for that.

You waited nervously outside of the door to Narancia's room in the med bay, worrying a stray thread in your sleeve. A few minutes passed and a nurse left his room, smiling at you.

"You can go in. Mr. Ghirga has been waiting for you all morning."

Even still, you knocked on the door before entering.

The room was no less spacious and luxurious for being the med bay. State-of-the-art equipment sat unobtrusively off to the sides, their humming and beeping virtually silent. The lighting was soft and the cot Narancia was lying in looked more comfortable than most beds could ever dream of being. A newscast was playing on the holoscreen on the opposite wall. For once, the story wasn't about Passione.

"Hey," you said gently, approaching Narancia gingerly. "How are you doing?"

Here was the moment you had been waiting for. Narancia turned to face you and your breath caught. One of his eyes was its usual, bright violet. The other was colourless—the iris grey like an avatar's before customization.

"Freaky, huh?" Narancia said in response to your silence. "The techs told me the colour should start filling in a few weeks after they scan some part of my DNA or something like that. Until then, I'm stuck with this."

You took a seat on the chair nearby. "How are you feeling? How's your vision?"

"To be honest, it's not a hundred percent. It's still pretty hard to see out of the cybernetic. My other eye has been really strained lately trying to compensate for it. I won't be reading any fine print or squinting at the sun anytime soon."

You tried to smile. The cybernetic aside, Narancia looked good. Maybe a little thinner than usual. Someone had given him a haircut. His hair didn't fall into his eyes as much anymore. You kind of missed the scruffiness.

"How about you, Captain? What are you doing still cooped up on the Palaceship? I'm cocky, but not too cocky to think that you're waiting for me."

You shifted in your seat. "I might as well stay here. I don't have anywhere else to go. Not yet, at least."

"You know, I still don't forgive you for leaving me out of all of the action. I'm your pilot, for crying out loud! You literally put me out of commission just as things were getting good."

"I should have noticed your eye sooner," you said. "I let things get so bad. If I had just stepped in sooner, you wouldn't have—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Cap. I'm an adult. I made my own decisions. What happened to my eye is entirely my fault and I accept that. You're not responsible for me."

"Still—"

"Still nothing. Don't beat yourself up about it. It's not like you were personally responsible for the genetic code that predisposed me to having this eye disease."

You had to laugh at that. "No, I guess I'm not."

"So you're really just going to lie around like this?" Narancia asked, leaning back in his seat. "Why aren't you out there doing more heists? Putting together some kind of Passione 2.0?"

"Passione is done," you said. There was no anger in the words, only a sad resignation. "I think I'm done. My stealing days are over. And even if I went back to it, things wouldn't be the same. So many of the crew are gone already."

"Aw, you miss us that much already, Cap?"

"I'm trying not to think about it. But what are your plans once you get out of this med bay?"

"I've gotta fly again," he said bluntly. "I'll have to re-train my eye, but I'll keep working at it until I can pass the flight vision test. There's no way this is going to keep me grounded. How much of a waste would that be? I'm way too good of a pilot."

"I bet Giorno could pull some strings to get you into the Imperial Air Force."

Narancia's good eye shone. "Stars, do you think so? That'd be awesome. I could look badass and shoot down bad guys."

"I don't know how I'd feel about giving up my pilot. I still want to keep you to myself."

Narancia chuckled. "I'd fly for you anytime, Captain. You know that."

"I don't know what Passione would have done without you, really. I mean half the stuff you pulled off was ..."

"Crazy?"

"Yes. I still don't know how you managed it."

"Some combination of dumb luck and pure stubbornness, probably. I learned from the best."

You smiled. "I should have told you more often, but I'm so grateful for everything you did for Passione. Your flying aside, you had so much energy and tenacity. You always knew how to make me laugh. I knew I could always count on you to get us out of a tight situation and you never once let us down. I've never met a pilot as talented as you."

"You must not have met many pilots then."

"I mean it, Narancia. You're amazing. You have a gift."

"You were the one that helped me realize my full potential. I was stifled back at the flying academy, Captain. Excuse the pun, but you let me spread my wings and really fly."

Narancia leaned forward. "Quit looking so guilty. I promise I don't blame you for anything. You're an amazing, incredible person, and an even better Captain. I would gladly follow you anywhere, no matter how stupid the plan.

"As soon as I get better, I'm taking you on a flight. Actual flying, not just travelling between Bend Gates."

"I'd like that."

"Don't you dare think of this as a goodbye," Narancia warned as you left. "We'll still hang out and tell stupid jokes and all that other stuff even if Passione isn't together anymore, right?"

"Of course. You still owe me a round of fight sims."

Resting was apparently not part of Giorno's vocabulary. Barely a month after the ordeal with Zero, and he was off on another expedition. This time for diplomatic reasons, since dying and then subsequently reviving did funny things to your reputation and influence. Basically, Giorno was travelling around the galaxy to assure everyone that yes, he was fine, and yes, he really was alive.

You couldn't help but marvel at Giorno's capacity for work. He was always doing something or other, never still, barely resting. He briskly stepped back under the mantle of Crown Prince, so seamlessly it was though he'd never left. Donatello was currently under some sort of Imperial suspension, sent off to some far-off moon colony to cool off. Giorno had told you a permanent solution would have to be put in place for his brother, especially when investigations were revealing it was more than likely Donatello had had something to do with the Eos explosion. It hadn't killed Giorno, but it had killed two hundred other people, and that couldn't be swept under the rug forever.

Giorno's new ship was named the Aethon. It was gleaming and sleek and marvellous. Not as large as the Eos, but there was something about it that seemed stronger. A lot like Giorno himself.

You still couldn't look at him without seeing the grimy space mechanic assistant you'd picked up from the Hub. His personal stylists had dyed his hair back to its natural gold-blonde, but it was still too short to tie back in its elegant braid. Giorno looked rougher around the edges now. Closer to his age.

"You know, most people would be wary about going on another expedition after nearly dying on their first one," you told Giorno as you accompanied him along the bay. He was dressed in a dark Imperial uniform with a scarlet sash. A golden circlet rested in his hair.

"I can't afford to be wary," Giorno said, shaking his head. "There's too much to do. I'd have to get on a ship sooner or later."

"No rest for the Crown Prince, huh?"

"Unfortunately not. I don't think I've slept a full night's sleep since the battle with Zero."

"Really? Your skin still looks great, though."

"My stylists would be glad to hear it."

There were still some moments when you tried to reconcile Giorno Giovanna with Johnny Jones. Sometimes you thought you could see the slight overlap between the two personas. Keen observations and plain statements and the slight cock to his head when he considered something. You wondered how it was possible for someone to play two different characters, and to play them both so well.

"What made you come up with the name JoJo, anyway?" you asked.

Giorno looked at you. "My brothers sometimes call me GioGio. And truthfully, I'm a great fan of the Steel Ball racer."

"Steel Ball?"

"The annual spaceship race. Its course goes through the entire main galaxy and lasts several months. You haven't heard of it?" Giorno smiled sheepishly. "I was almost sure Johnny Joestar would win last year, but Diego Brando ended up winning, if I remember correctly."

You stared at Giorno. "You're into spaceship racing?"

He shrugged. "It's fun. You never know who the winner will be."

"Huh. I never would have guessed."

"I don't think I ever apologized for deceiving you and your crew, Captain. You have my sincerest apologies. I never meant any harm. I should have considered my options better."

"We were glad to have you," you said. "You fit right in. In another life, you probably would have ended up being a permanent member."

"You think so?"

"Yes. You make a great space thief."

"I probably shouldn't consider that a compliment."

"You don't get tired of all of this?" you asked, gesturing to the bustle of activity around the Aethon. "I know you fought to become Crown Prince, but damn, it's a lot of work. How are you still going? I probably would have given up a long time ago."

"It's hard, I won't deny that." A thoughtful look crossed Giorno's face. "But I take pride in my work. I learn something new everyday. And believe it or not, it can be fun. In a way, I do it for the same reason you kept doing heists."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Before I go, is there anything you want me to do for you at the last minute? I can have things arranged."

"You shouldn't be doing anything for me, Your Highness. I feel like you're giving me a lot more credit than I deserve."

Giorno tilted his head. "I only give out what is deserved. Despite the immense difficulties you suffered during your tenure with Zero, you conducted yourself admirably. I was there during that final battle with Zero. I saw how you did not hesitate to pierce yourself with the Arrow. All of that after having been forced from your own body."

"None of this would have happened if I hadn't been stupid enough to accept the job from Zero," you muttered. "My crew is even worse off than when we started. Hell, we're not even a crew anymore."

"Things would have gone differently," Giorno said. "But I would not say that things would have been better. I believe things happen for a reason. People meet and things collide and dominoes fall."

"Kismet," you said. Giorno nodded.

"Speaking of kismet, during that final confrontation with Zero, you must have seen his face. Wasn't he—"

"Pascal Caprese," Giorno said. "I took the time to search up what I could find in the ident databases. He had quite the history. In fact, at one point or another, he was involved with every member of Passione."

You had recognized his face during that brief moment. He was the one who had given you the scar along your forearm. The rogue anti-Imperialist who had nearly crashed Giorno's ship during his introduction to the palace. You shuddered to think that his existence was not exclusive to you. That at some point, every person in your crew had crossed paths with him by some cruel twist of fate.

An attendant approached you and Giorno then. "Apologies for disturbing you, Your Highness, but we will be leaving in twenty minutes."

"Of course. Thank you. I will be onboard shortly."

The attendant moved off. Giorno turned to you. The slightly sheepish smile on his face made him look like JoJo again.

"This is goodbye then, Captain. I will be away for a few months, but please do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything."

"You've already done more for me and the crew than I could ask for, Your Highness. Thank you for ... saving the galaxy and all of that. But also thank you for your brief time aboard my crew. I'm honoured that you chose to spend some time with us."

"I couldn't have gotten the Stand Arrow without Passione. I will forever be in your debt."

You raised an eyebrow. "That's a dangerous thing to say to a thief, Your Highness."

Giorno shrugged. "But you're not a thief anymore, are you?"

You watched him board the Aethon, his uniform coat streaming behind him. His words continued to muddle together in your mind as he disappeared into the ship and then out into the stars.

Mista was the one who came to you. You had stayed on the Palaceship for so long that you were able to witness one of its rare docking and landing events, the gargantuan ship stocking up on supplies and repairs before lifting off into space again. It was the first time being on solid ground in weeks. You had turned down the palace's offer of giving you a room in the hotel the Imperial family was staying in, and instead found your own little room in an out of the way lodging house. Staying here for the past few days had reminded you just how little you had now. You couldn't leach off of Giorno forever. You'd have to find a job at some point.

You hadn't told anyone where you were staying, but somehow, Mista managed to find you. He knocked on your door with a bright smile, and then the two of you were going to a nearby restaurant for breakfast.

You talked at length about a lot of things. Zero and the Stand Arrow, of course, but also about Passione and how you thought the other members were faring. That inevitably led to a walk down memory lane, Mista bringing up stories that you'd forgotten a long time ago. He had a great memory for seemingly mundane moments that could make you laugh. For a time, it was like Passione was together again, flying through the galaxy toward their next job.

Although Mista kept things light, you knew what was coming. He was leaving, the same as the rest of your crew. He had always been good at finding things to do and making friends with the people around him. You sensed his impending departure like a dark cloud on the horizon.

And finally, the rain came.

"I'm planning on leaving soon, Cap," Mista said. He finished the last of his coffee and set the cup deliberately down on the saucer. You hadn't eaten much; your coffee was still untouched.

"Where to?"

"This is going to sound stupid, but I've decided to rejoin the Imperial Army."

"That's not stupid at all. I had the feeling that you liked it back when we were still enlisted. Stars know they'll never find anyone with better marksmanship than you."

"Yeah, I guess not. I just kind of fell in with some of the guys since things ended. They started showing me around, getting me used to the regiment, and it's not that bad. It's honestly something that I can see myself doing full-time."

It was something you could see too. There was a part of Mista that inherently wanted to protect others. He hated anyone who looked down on others simply for being weak. He didn't discriminate; anyone who needed help would get it.

"The process for becoming an Imperial soldier must be rough, especially considering your past history."

"Yeah, it's been hell. They're pretty confused about why a criminal, who was a soldier, went back to being a criminal, just to go back to being a soldier. But I'm willing to work for it. Giorno had the idea of having an elite guard and ... I don't know. It's something to think about."

"It really is."

Mista looked down at the table. "But what about you? I've talked to some of the other Passione guys and they said you haven't decided anything. Is that still the case? It's been a while since everything went down."

You knew it had been a while. More than enough time for you to move on and start doing something with your life. But the inertia was incredible. It just took so much energy to start over and do something new. You weren't ready for it yet and you felt terrible about it.

"I'm still working things out," you said quietly.

"If you ever need help, I'll be right here," Mista said, putting his hand over yours. You looked up at him, and a current seemed to pass between you.

"I've been meaning to tell you something, Captain."

Your mouth was suddenly dry. "Of course."

"If I told you I loved you, that I started loving you since that day you showed me the Pistols ... what would you say?"

You had heard this confession once already. It shouldn't have been a surprise. But hearing it in Mista's own voice, with the warmth of his hand on top of yours and in the comfort of your own body...

Tears burned your eyes.

Mista leaned forward quickly. "Hey, are you okay? Flack, is this really that scary for you? I know I'm terrible, but I didn't think—"

"No, it's nothing like that." You tried to wipe your eyes but that only encouraged things. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt a few tears escape. "It's just ... you were the first member of Passione, Mista. You were there for all of it. You've seen all of my mistakes and you never once left me alone. I've done so much stupid shit and for you to tell me that you love me ... flack, I just feel so undeserving of that."

Mista squeezed your hand.

"I've been so oblivious," you whispered. "All this time and I didn't have a clue. I didn't even once consider that you might—that we could—I'm such an idiot."

"To be fair, it's not like I made it that obvious. I was scared of messing up the relationship we already had. I kept waiting for a time when things seemed right."

Guilt, shame, and anxiety knotted together in a tight ball in your chest. You hated that you couldn't immediately tell Mista that you loved him too. That you had known for as long as he had that he was the one for you. You didn't know how you felt about him. You didn't know if this soft, immature thing brushing your heart was anything close to love.

"You don't have to feel the same. Not right away. I'm willing to work for what I want." Mista grinned crookedly at you. "I just wanted you to know. If you want, we can try things out and see how it goes. But if not, I'm fine with staying where we are."

Another wave of tears burned against your eyes.

"That's more than I deserve."

"That's the least of what you deserve. I can't believe you don't realize how kind and selfless and determined you are. You always look out for others. You never once complain about your own burdens. That's what I love about you. You spend so much time thinking of others and forget about yourself. You're not selfish. You don't have to feel guilty. You did the best you could do throughout all of that and that's all anyone can ask. Please stop putting all of the blame on yourself."

"If I'm such a great Captain, then why isn't Passione still together?"

"You are a great Captain because you know how to keep people together, but also when it's time to let them go. You're still looking out for everyone but giving them a chance to explore the galaxy on their own."

Mista looked directly into your eyes. "You can't protect everyone forever."

You took a deep breath. "I know."

"You've spent so much time on Passione. It's time for you to spend some time on yourself, don't you think?"

"You can actually be pretty smart when you want to be."

"Sometimes the stars align just right."

Mista's holopad went off. He checked the message, then rose to his feet. "Hey, sorry, but I need to get going. The Imperial Army office told me there's something they need to check on my application."

"Of course."

"Think about what I said, okay? Let me know if—just let me know."

You nodded. "I will."

Mista smiled at you one last time before paying and leaving the restaurant. You finished your food, then stepped out into the crisp morning air and started walking.

You had been trying to hold it all back for a while, but you decided to let it wash over you. The memories. The wishes. The regrets. Passione was over. Your days of space thieving would fade into the past. All of the riches and wealth and treasures were gone. You were no longer the Captain of Passione, and one day, your crew's exploits would disappear into the galaxy's collective memory.

It was a humbling thought. You didn't know if you liked it. All you knew was that the thought of going back to stealing without a crew felt like a sucker punch. You wouldn't be able to do it. Your crew had left behind spaces too large to be filled by anyone else.

You felt like you had lost your family, although that wasn't quite right. Everyone was still there, only in different capacities. Things would never go back to the way they were, but what if you could make a new normal? One where Abbacchio was the chief of the Galactic Authorities; where Trish was a travel influencer; where Bruno and Fugo conducted research for the Speedwagon Foundation; where Narancia was the Imperial Air Force's leading pilot; where Mista was part of Giorno's elite guard? What would that look like? How would you fit into a picture like that?

You passed by a jewelry store, and old, well-greased habits made you stop. You appraised the display in the window, the tasteful teardrop diamonds suspended on delicate chains and sparkling on dainty rings. It would be easy to take it, you realized. To break the glass and stuff the diamonds into Party Rock's chest compartment and take off down the pavement. You could start it all over again.

But you wouldn't get very much for those diamonds. They were all fake, after all. Years of stealing and fencing had granted you an expert's eye. Every thief worth their salt should be able to tell a real diamond from a fake one, and the cast and light of the diamonds in the display were painfully artificial.

Maybe you should tell the shop. They would probably want to know.

kismet fin.

─────

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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sugarywishes · 1 year

Text

My final (and selfish) thoughts/rant about The RUIN DLC (And about the Steelwool Era ig) (spoilers)

PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS LITERALLY JUST MY STUPID OPINION!! You are allowed to agree or disagree, but in all honesty I don't care just don't be rude about it and we'll be cool 😎👍

I ain't gonna lie y'all,,,

The new FNAF storyline is like, a little lame.

Since it's been a few weeks since RUIN came out, I've accepted the fact that yeah, Peepaw Afton is dead, Michael is dead, and now we have new characters and plot ideas.

Which I don't generally mind! FNAF should've totally ended at Pizzeria Simulator (with UCN as a epilogue game). And technically speaking it did end!

And I would've loved to see a new storyline in the franchise!

But oh. Oh Steelwool, I love y'all, you're wonderful for introducing the Glamrocks and Gregory and Cassie and the new set of characters

But why, why are you using stuff from the BOOKS?? 😭😭 more specifically THE MIMIC???

In case you haven't heard, the Mimic entity from the Five Nights At Freddy's book series 'Tales From The Pizzaplex', what it is basically, is FNAF's own Frankenstein's monster. (Super mentally ill dude creates a monster maybe from grief, depends who you ask, then the monster kinda goes haywire after mistreatment from the creator, monster murder rampage ensues!!)

Which on paper is cool and all

But man, IT ISN'T A COOL VILLAIN!!

I'm just gonna admit it! The Mimic as both a character and antagonist isn't neat! I don't find myself being intrigued to the new storyline Scott is following (I dare even say he is just winging it at this point, I'll forever ponder what the original SB storyline was,,,)

For starters, what motive does the Mimic have? What drives it to do what it wants?

Let's use William for example (sorry, not a Will defender but he's an iconic villain), for the longest time in the fandom, we've been assuming he was a child murderer for fun. His motives were simply for amusement, he's a sick rat bastard who wanted to see what killing felt like and he became addicted to it, ala Freddy Kruger or something.

But something far more interesting is when his backstory was revealed (or as revealed as it'll ever be, bless those fan creators who truly carry the fnaf lore with their interpretations) with the Afton family, his history with Henry and that he was a Co-Founder of what is now Fazbear Entertainment (and the mini games!!)

Now the debatingly popular opinion about William is that he was obsessed with immortality, he discovered (probably from Elizabeth or Evan possessing robots) that souls can live on beyond death, he discovered Remnant from that, he killed children to collect more and it backfired on him when he died. But what? He's still alive technically?? Alright!

And then the whole fnaf thing continues because he just doesn't want to die, he always comes back. (Probably metaphorical at this point, but it's funnier and cooler to mean it literally, he's basically a cockroach)

Of course, there's other interpretations of William, like how he was always mentally deranged anyways, it only took one of his children (Evan?) dying, and his sanity plummeted down and down, more bad things occurred to him, and he totally snapped which lead to everything. (I personally love this version of FNAF, it's more dramatic and like- angsty? It's just more narratively tragic yk)

And any rendition of Afton is cool! They make him a scary, interesting villain, which is what he is (suppose to be). The revealed lore about him let's us add onto it to expand his characterization more!

But the Mimic...what does he want again?

Oh, it just likes killing people because...it can? Uh, sure whatever

It's fair to use the argument of 'his creator shunned him and he witnessed the original MCI murders, which caused him to mimic Afton's murderous personality', like he was some fucked up Pinocchio.

But to that I say, that's boring! Because, it's just copying William. It's a MIMIC. It doesn't have it's own character or personality or goals because it is a ROBOT, programmed to copy the behavior of humans (before someone gives me shit about copy and mimic being two different words, they are LITERALLY synonyms!! They mean the same things! Or at least extremely similar)

So basically speaking, the Mimic is literally WILLAM AGAIN! But it's a less cool, boring version of him that's not technically him, it's a watered down version of the previous antagonist!! A CHEAP COPY??

This thing doesn't have an actual motive or plan or goal, it's an intelligent murder machine. Who is presumably just killing because of Edward Cullen, or whatever his creator's name was (or cause of its programming, but that's just as unimaginative) nor does it have a personality that can at least make us engaged with it as a character

Like sure, I don't mind having new antagonists, but why use a BORING robot who not only is described as an unkillable super monster who can brutally kill everyone without trouble like he's a stupid creepypasta OC, but we have far cooler ideas for a villain than an ENDO ROBOT! Like say, oh I dunno, the Fazbear Entertainment CEO? The one everyone has been theorizing about constantly? Who knows who he is! Phone Dude? Sammy Emily?? (Kinda hoping it's none of the previous)

Or just have the company itself be evil! We have countless of options for new opposing forces who are cunning and frightening (like how Vanny should've been, mind controlled villains were fine but it would've been interesting to let her have more screentime,,,)

Anyways, moving on from the topic of the Mimic, I'm also super upset about the idea that, since the stupid Mimic is canon, ALL the TFTP books can be canon. Which means GGY is canon, which means people can tie Greg in with Gregory, WHICH ALSO MEANS people have an actual valid excuse to antagonize him! Again!!

'OooOo I knEW he wAS EVIL thiS WHOle tiME THe booKS CONfirmED IT' Bro, SHUT UP!! Please! Leave this child alone!!

Ever since Security Breach came out I've seen so many people constantly calling Gregory the secret villain, or that he's as vile as Afton

he's like- 12 you guys. He's probably still in 6TH GRADE! If not then 7th, even then, stop comparing him to Satan or whatever, the animatronics were literally attempting to murder him? Just because they were sentient does not make them less of a threat lmao

And I've seen people saying that GGY was Gregory, but he was manipulated or possessed by the Mimic/Glitchtrap (I'll get into that stupid thing in a minute) and to that I say, fine I guess? But most importantly how?? When?? How did he escape his control??

Also AHEM. This is a good time to discuss the fact that it's very likely that Burntrap is actually the Mimic, and unfortunately, so is Glitchtrap.

I don't give a rats ass about Burntrap, so if Mimic was confirmed to be him, I'll accept it. Maybe (I personally think Burntrap should've just not existed, and I already have him as non canon in my AUs so I would've been down for this!)

But Glitchtrap. GLITCHTRAP. Are you kidding me?? The Mimic gets to be 2 VERSIONS OF WILLIAM??

Look, I'm still really, REALLY hoping Glitchtrap and the Mimic are different entities, I will buy every single bit of stupid FNAF merchandise if it means they can be two different characters

And you wanna know something? I 100% believe that maybe, Burntrap and Glitchtrap were literally just meant to be William again. But oh boy, the backlash to this idea scared the shit outta everyone involved, which is why they decided to pull from the books, and they had a villain available who isn't totally unique enough to add in and confuse people more, but who technically counts as a new character who can act like an old one, the Mimic.

Which sucks. Imagine what could've been if they kept Will as Glitchtrap. William managed to escape his personal hell (or he made a digital ghost/version of himself) and now, he can achieve digital immortality, he no longer craves a physical body, hence why Glitchtrap exists. (I also think it wouldve been neat if the only way Glitchtrap could continue existing is by remnant/agony, and since he couldn't do it physically he started possessing the beta testers from Help Wanted to become minions for murder to collect it)

Or better yet, retcon Glitchtrap? Ya know, it doesn't make a lot of sense that a robot, created in the 1980s could become a virus that can control and brainwash people. Even the robots that Henry and William created before they died were a little realistic. They weren't hyper intelligent murder machines (not counting the Funtimes) they were regular animatronics that were possessed by the spirits of dead kids. Which is why they were murderous and walked around at night. It's not like Fredbear could eventually control a computer and virus-ize himself (is that even a real word??)

Edwin was no Albert Einstein. Back then technology was severely limited, so how did the Mimic find out how to put itself digitally as Glitchtrap? Did it 'mimic' a computer virus and simultaneously William/Springbonnie too?? Is the Mimic a program itself and not just a robot?

I'm getting ahead of myself (I need to wrap this up soon 😭😭) so I'll come to my last part of my rant

Now these don't...feel like FNAF games. Sure, the main gameplays back then were mostly just cameras and jumpscares, and the only way we even got lore was through Atari styled arcade games. But that was the charm!

Back then there were barely any horror games that were formatted the way the OG fnaf games were, that's what made it stand out! And that's exactly why so many different mascot horror games try and overtake FNAF's success, and SB and RUIN...Feel just like those other mascot horror games.

Cleary they are using a new style for the new Steelwool era, which I respect. It'll take a real long time to get used to (Not even kidding, whenever I watched a RUIN let's play, it looked like they were playing ALIEN or a generic Sci-Fi action game)

Speaking of Sci-Fi in FNAF, I thought Sister Location was techy, but this game sure proved me wrong!

Uhh...why does the V.A.N.N.I mask even exist? Apparently it's used by employees (so it's not Vanessa's mask) but why the hell would Fazbear Entertainment make a weird ass mask like that? Wouldn't they go all out and just use Freddy as the base instead of some random bunny? (Presumably they don't know how Vanny looks like)

And also, how are we able to just- traverse though the walls?? Are we gonna get a canon explanation?? How can we teleport??? How can Helpi just implant something into us?? What?!?! Are we magical now? Did FNAF just traverse into fantasy at this point

Why are there security nodes in the robots? More importantly, why is the 'final node' in Roxy? I know the robotics and engineering of these games are inaccurate and insane, but at this point it's almost comically ridiculous! Who would think of such an inconvenient way to place security nodes??

And from what I'm hearing, M.X.E.S was created by Gregory and Vanessa, which in concept is awesome as hell

But I ask again, HOW??? Even if both of them were possessed and gained new skills or whatever, they aren't the most techy people I know. Gregory managed to repair Freddy because he was given instructions, and Vanessa?? Like okay she can hijack robots so I believe that maybe she can do it 🤷‍♀️

I swear this game might actually leave me more questions than answers, even more than Security Breach! I probably have a few more complaints in the back of my head, but in all honesty, I know I'm just gonna have to accept the fact that this is how FNAF will continue, and I'll have to get used it (it's actually starting to grow on me the more weeks go by!)

Hopefully I'll end up enjoying the way it turns out once more is revealed in the next games :) (I'd forgive this game if they only hadn't use the Mimic,,,make up a new character for your games :( )

TLDR: Make ME in charge of the FNAF franchise⁉️⁉️💥💥

#fnaf #five night's at freddy's #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #steelwool #security breach #ruin dlc #fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin dlc #fnaf rant #fnaf post #rant #fnaf opinion #please let cassie live im begging you 🙏🙏#ruin spoilers

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walkawaytall · 1 year

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My Han/Leia Fics by Era: Hoth

Look, I've written like 20 one-shots and completed a multichapter this year and figured I'd categorize them by...uh...eras, as decided on by me. Here's all the Hoth-era stuff (apparently my favorite era), listed from shortest to longest. Absolutely none of these take place in the same universe. I mean, I suppose some could, but it wasn't done on purpose.

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A Billion Ways to Die in Space One-shot | 994 words | G General vibe: tense worry, positive ending with reunion, friendship.

Summary: When Leia's mission runs late, Han worries.

(This technically isn't explicitly set on Hoth, but I was imagining Hoth when I wrote it, so you can, too.)

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Fleeting Infatuation One-shot | 1836 words | G General vibe: humorous angst? Is that a thing? Leia's in denial and is annoyed that she's in denial.

Summary: Leia Organa didn’t just have a problem; she had a crush.

Leia could handle a problem. Problems could be solved with logic and careful thought and sometimes a little luck. Problems could be reasoned through. Problems, if they became too overwhelming, could often be set aside for a minute or two while she regained her bearings.

Crushes, though…Leia hadn’t had a crush since she was seventeen, and this current iteration made her feel entirely juvenile.

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Speak Louder One-shot | 1960 words | G General vibe: friendship is magic, mildly humorous.

Summary: He’d never seen them apologize to one another. Three years running with the Alliance together, a gratuitous amount of time spent on the Falcon, on missions, and on base with his friends, and Luke Skywalker had never witnessed Han and Leia apologize to one another.

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Served Cold One-shot | 3216 words | G General vibe: cutesy friendship-turning-romantic stuff; the mildest of angst for live five seconds because Han's grumpy.

Summary: Han Solo really hates snow. Leia wants to try to fix that.

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So, Now I Have to Destroy Them One-shot | 3766 words | G General vibe: low-stakes shenanigans, humorous, friendship, Han's a little grumpy but also definitely has a crush and doesn't know what to do about that, Hoth turns the Rogues into feral space raccoons.

Summary: Han Solo wasn't invited to join in a game of Bounty Hunter -- not that he cares. But everything changes when a certain princess asks for aid during the final hours of the game.

Vague Hoth time period when people aren't yelling at each other.

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Confirmed by Sources Close to the Subject One-shot | 3910 words | G General vibe: humorous, practically crack, heartwarming ending.

Summary: When Han returns to base with a new biography in hand, Leia is horrified to discover who the subject of the book is.

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Spiral Together One-shot | 4666 words | T General vibe: humorous, a little mushy and romantic, Hoth turns the Rogues into feral space raccoons.

Summary: When some of the Rogues overhear Han and Leia get into a fight, they take measures to ensure the pair makes up before they're all stuck on a mission together.

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Terrified Without You One-shot | 6818 words | G General vibe: hurt/comfort, physical peril, mushy almost-confessions under dire circumstances.

Summary: Han and Leia end up stuck in a crevasse together on Hoth after being in an argument about...well, Leia can't remember what exactly. With no way out and comms not working, all they can do is sit, wait, and try to survive.

Vague Hoth-era time period. Pre-The Empire Strikes Back

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Collateral Multi-chapter | 51135 words | T General vibe: hurt/comfort, a fair bit of romance and snarky dialogue, angst with a moderately hopeful ending thanks to our good ol' friend The Epilogue.

Summary: Han is scheduled for a dangerous mission, and only Leia can ensure he makes it back safely. An Ord Mantell story, set right before The Empire Strikes Back. This story has everything: friendship, romance, angst, flashbacks, an explanation for the existence of that necklace Leia wears during the Yavin medal ceremony, a sarcastic Chewbacca.

My attempt at answering the question: what the heck is everyone's damage at the beginning of The Empire Strikes Back?

#fanfiction list #my fics by era #my fics #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #hanleia fanfiction #hanleia fanfic #han x leia fanfic #han x leia fanfiction #hoth turns the rogues into feral space raccoons #the empire strikes back

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fateinthestars · 9 months

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Star Crossed Myth Advent Calendar Fanfic: Day Sixteen - Home Comforts (Aigonorus/MC)

(Twenty-Four days of Star Crossed Myth Flash Fics using this prompt list)

Title: Day Sixteen - Home Comforts

Pairing: Aigonorus/MC (MC's name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Word Count: 653

Rating: T

Prompt: "A tender hug, just staying together for a while"

Summary: MC's work day is cut short due to an equipment failure. Aigonorus is there to provide comfort.

A/N: Slight spoilers for Aigonorus' path. Set after his sequel epilogue.

Day Sixteen: Home Comforts (Aigonorus/MC)

___ sighed softly to herself as she packed her stuff away ready for going home early from the planetarium. This had supposed to have been the last main event for work before Christmas, but the projector had broken down partway through the performance. No one had done anything wrong, it was just one of those things, but the event being cut short like this and having to refund the customers had left her in a rather downbeat mood.

Saying goodbye to Hiyori, ___ walked slowly home, now feeling rather sad. Aigonorus normally made time to come and walk home with her unless there was absolutely no way he could get away from work, but as she wasn’t scheduled to leave yet there was no reason for him to be there right now.

It was so early she could have gone shopping or taken in a Christmas event, but she didn’t really feel like doing that on her own. I wish Aigo could be here.

About to head straight home, ___ paused as she was about to head past the convenience store. Well, as she was early, she might as well get the ingredients to make marshmallows so she could surprise Aigonorus with them later. Unless she could get a message to him somehow, she’d probably have to head back to the planetarium when it was time for work to actually end, else he’d probably worry about where she was.

Now at least having something to do, ___ quickly bought the items she needed from the shop and then headed home, opening her apartment door.

As she stepped inside, she realised she wasn’t alone. Before she could say anything, she felt herself pulled into a tender and loving embrace by her boyfriend.

Leaning into Aigonorus, ___ let him pull her down onto the sofa. “Aigo? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“So should you,” Aigonorus muttered, frowning at her with concern. “Your wish reached me. I checked the reflecting pool first and saw you were heading back this way… what happened?”

___ leant into him. “Projector broke. Not much point being at work when we can’t put on any shows.”

Aigonorus sighed softly. “These things happen, right?”

“Of course, but…”

Smiling gently at her, Aigonorus squeezed her a little. “You like your work to go well. If you’d called out to me I could have fixed it you know. You aren’t trying to handle things on your own again are you?”

___ looked up at him, swallowing at the frown now on his face. “No. I didn’t really think of that. But if I had, wouldn’t that have raised a lot of questions? Like we’d already identified the fault - If it started working again, the customers would have still been annoyed and then the director would be very confused as to what was going on with the equipment. It might even have caused him to have a go at the company that makes it.”

Aigonorus’ eyes widened. “... Oh.” He then smiled kindly at her. “Then what can I do?”

“... I would say just continue holding me like this, but, don’t you need to get back? You’re only here now because I made a wish which means you’re technically still working.”

Sighing, Aigonorus glanced away slightly. “Meh, let Leon yell at me tomorrow. I’m not leaving you here alone like this.”

“I’m fine, really.”

Aigonorus looked back at her, his expression showing that he did not believe that for a second. “___ …”

___ sighed and forced a smile. “... I’m fine now, then. I bought stuff to make marshmallows…”

The other smiled brightly at that. “Let’s do that together then. But later. I just want to hold you for now. You still need a hug and I still need my full dosage of ___ softness for today.”

Smiling more genuinely at that, ___ squeezed Aigonorus gently.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa.

#star crossed myth fanfic #scm fanfic #scm #star crossed myth #scm aigonorus #star crossed myth christmas #star crossed myth advent calendar fic #aigonorus x mc

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age-of-greta · 2 years

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The Lovers

The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Often an aspect of the querent's life will have to be sacrificed; a bachelor's lifestyle may be sacrificed and a relationship gaine, or one potential partner may be chosen while another is turned down. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly, as the ramifications will be lasting.

Pairing: Jake x reader & Sam x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, angst, adult content, all the sexual content, minors DNI

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: hi!! the LAST chapter is here I cannot believe it! This fic has truly been so fun to write and I cannot thank you enough for following along. With that being said, I am happy to announce I have a new story in the works and will start posting in January! As always, this fic has two parts then and today. I proofread, but typos happen. Epilogue will be out next Wednesday at midnight. Buckle up and enjoy!!!

PART 13:

THEN:

“Listen, I think you could fit in my suitcase.” Jake says, throwing shirts around in his bag.

You laugh at him. “After the spaghetti you made, I’m not so sure.”

Jake looks up at you and huffs a little. “Are you sure you can’t come?”

“Jake” you sigh. “As much as I would like to, I can’t just fly to Europe and abandon all responsibilities. I have an important case coming up next week.”

You had driven to Nashville for the weekend. The boys were starting their European summer tour in a few days and you volunteered to drive them to the airport. You were saddened by the idea of not seeing them for over a month, but in a strange way you thought it would help distance your feelings for Jake. Whenever you were away from him for an extended period of time, you felt it made your feelings easier to push to the side. You had a hunch Jake knew this and that’s why he was especially reluctant to go.

Jake lets out a long breath before responding. “Okay, fine. But we need to figure out a schedule where we can at least FaceTime or something.”

You smile a little at that. “I think that could probably be arranged.”

He walks over to you and puts his hands on your arms. “God, how am I going to go a month without touching you?”

“Technically over a month.” You add.

“That’s it. You’re getting in my suitcase.” Jake says, as he lightly picks you up and takes you towards the bed.

You start giggling your head off. Jake sets you down on the bed and looks down at you. His eyes are soft and gentle, but his gaze is intense. You both stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, then Jake leans in and softly kisses your lips. You feel an aching burn for him in your heart. The next month was going to suck. The kissing turns into a passionate almost make out before you’re interrupted.

“Jake, do you have my backpack in here? Ah fuck.” Josh says, barging into the room.

Jake rolls off of you and sighs. “Josh, remember how we knock before we enter rooms?”

“Yes Jake, I’m aware. However you’re supposed to be packing, not canoodling all over your tour clothes. Also you have a lock” Josh says.

“I wouldn’t need a lock if you knocked. Your goddamn backpack is in the studio behind the amps I think. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a month's worth of canoodling to do, so off you go.” Jake says, getting up and shuffling Josh out of the room.

Josh laughs at his boldness and mumbles some comparison of you two being like bunnies on his way out.

Jake locks the door and turns around back to you. “Where were we? Ah yes, canoodling.”

You burst out laughing at that. “You need to finish packing. You’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

“It’s true I do need to finish packing. It’s also true that we’re going to both be tired tomorrow. I apologize lover, but it’s my last night with you for the foreseeable future and I need to give you plenty of memories to think about when you miss me.”

You try to remain unphased at Jake’s words, but they definitely have you worked up. “Well then you better get to packing and then get over here.”

Jake smirks at you. “Yes ma’am.”

The next morning was chaotic. Everyone was running around trying to pack last minute things and making sure they had everything they needed for their trip. You tried your best to help, but when the arguing started you took yourself out of the equation. It was always like this, frantic, excited, and unprepared when the tour started. But this was a little different, Jake was in a mood to say the least. He has been biting off everyone’s head, but yours. Finally you got everyone in your car and the tour company sent over a truck for the instruments and everything else that wouldn’t fit. You looked over at Jake as you pulled out of the driveway. It seemed like there was a permanent scowl on his face. He lightened it when he met your eyes, attempted a small smile, and placed his hand on your leg.

“Everyone ready?” You asked.

Everyone answered almost in unison. Then you were off. The drive wasn’t too long until you reached the airport. You tried to mellow the vibes as you played John Denver in the background. There wasn’t much talking, everyone was tired and stressed. You could tell Jake was on edge too. You pulled up to the drop off lane and everyone gathered their things. You opened your door and got out while the guys unloaded their suitcases.

“Thanks for driving us! We’ll miss you.” Danny says, as he pulls you into a hug.

“Bye mama.” Josh says, kissing your cheek. “Tell Jake to get his ass off his shoulders please.”

You laugh at him and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Bye Sammy, safe travels.” You say hugging him, he hugs you tightly. He looks down at you and gives you a smile. “Try not to get too bored without me.”

Jake steps in front of you and lets out a sigh while pulling you into his chest. “Fuck.” Is all he says.

“I know.” You say back, softly.

Jake holds you for a minute before you start to pull away.

“You better be off. You’re going to miss your flight.” You say with as much courage as you can muster.

Jake looks down at you with sad eyes. “I’ll text you when we land.”

“Be safe.” You say.

“I will. There’s someone I have to get back to.” Jake says as he smiles at you. “Be good.”

You laugh a little. “Always.”

Jake pulls you into a final hug and grabs your cheek before planting a soft and slow kiss on your lips.

“Jake, I know this is a hallmark moment and all but we really have to go.” Josh says.

Jake lets out a breath and looks at you. “See you soon lover.”

You nod at him and watch him walk away. They all wave as you get in your car. You can’t even tell that your eyes are teary until you’re back on the interstate. This break is going to be good, you tell yourself. It’s going to allow you to bottle these feelings up. When they come back you’ll be detached enough, you’re pretty sure Jake knows that.

“Hi there.” You say, as you answer your FaceTime.

It had been two weeks since they had left for tour and it had gotten easier everyday. You mainly focused on work and spending time with Lana.

“Hey lover. Did you receive something in the mail today?”

Jake asks.

“I did. It smells really nice, thank you.” You say picking up the bottle of perfume and showing him.

Jake smiles. “We were in a small apothecary shop in Paris and I found it. It was so unique, you had to have it.”

“I really do like it. I have a question for you.” You pitch.

Jake hums at you. “Ask away.”

“The first weekend you get back. Are you busy?” You ask.

Jake chuckles. “Yes, very busy actually.”

You frown a little. “Oh.”

“With you lover. I need you to clear your schedule.” He says wearing a smirk.

You huff. “Well there is a music festival in my hometown that weekend. I thought maybe we could go the first day?”

Jake beams a smile at you. “I suppose that could be arranged, but after can you come to Nashville for the weekend?”

You smile back at him. “I suppose that could also be arranged.”

***

TODAY:

“Hi…” Jake said standing in your doorway.

“Oh hi.” You say quietly.

“May I come in?” Jake says.

You stare at him for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for him to enter. Jake walks in and sits on your couch. You turn the TV off and stand there across from him up against the wall. It’s silent for a minute before Jake begins.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Jake says, running his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t know what to say.”

You sigh a little. “Jake, if you came here to break up with me I have clearly already gotten the message. This is unnecessary.” You say.

Jake looks up at you with a scowl. “No actually that’s not why I’m fucking here. I’m trying to find a way to fucking forgive you- I don’t know get past all the shit.”

You scoff a little and look at the floor. “Seems like you have already moved on.”

“Are you serious? You’re going to say that to me after fucking my brother? You know I saw the picture you two took that night. That dress you were wearing? No wonder you two fucked. You were sober and consciously wanted him to see you like that.”

“You fucking ghosted me Jake! You left me and Sam was there. That’s all. It didn’t take me leaving you for you to find your way with someone else.” You reply with spite.

“Because I brought Jessica last night?” He says standing up.

“Yeah well of course it had to be her Jake. I just don’t know why it couldn’t have been someone else.” You say cowering a little because you know how it sounds.

Jake laughs a little. “You are really not the one to talk here.”

“Then why show up with her last night and then kiss me? What sense does that fucking make Jake?” You say.

Jake sighs. “I only invited her because I knew it would piss you off. I didn’t fucking lay a finger on her like that.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds.

“But you know I could have.” He says taking a step forward. “I absolutely could have fucked her. I thought about it, many times actually. I could have texted her when I was home for Christmas and she would have been eager to come right over. I could have taken her back to my hotel last night and fucked her raw on the desk. In fact I could be fucking her right now.”

You feel like you’re going to vomit hearing Jake say that. Your stomach is twisting in knots and you want to scream and cry simultaneously.

“Okay I fucking get it Jake. Congratulations. Why don’t you fucking go ahead and do it. Go fuck her. You act like you’re so innocent. I was going through it and you said oh well! Fuck it! Deal with it on your own.” You say with rage.

Jake seems to soften for a moment before speaking again. “I know and I’m sorry. I already apologized for that. I think about what would be different if I would have fucking acted differently, but we can’t go back in time can we sweetheart?”

The edge in his voice is back. You want to roll your eyes, but refrain.

“But I didn’t fuck her. I couldn’t. You know why?” Jake pauses and looks at you with intentful eyes. “She wasn’t you. As much as I tried to stop thinking about you I couldn’t. When I saw you last night I was almost brought to my knees. You looked so beautiful in that dress, you changed your hair, you were wearing the perfume I got you. You looked like you were thriving without me and that stung. So fucking bad. The thought of not being your New Year's Kiss burned me up inside. So I kissed you, and I felt better in those three seconds than I had in weeks. At that moment I knew I would never be over you.”

A wave of hope washes over you. You can feel your heart swelling, aching for Jake.

“I tried to call you. Multiple times.” You say meekly.

“I know. I’ve been working through some shit. You did fuck my brother you know.” Jake sighs before continuing. “I can’t even begin to explain to you how that feels. I always knew Sam had a crush on you, it was obvious from the start. Then he flat out told me he had feelings for you. Of course, this was in the beginning when you and I were fucking around. I didn’t stop, because I obviously cared about you too. Then they all found out about us. It was pathetic the way he continued to pine over you, even with my fucking arm wrapped around you. I let it go for the most part, that seemed to have been a mistake.”

You’re quiet. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think.

Jake steps forward. “Did you enjoy fucking my little brother?”

You shoot him a glare before looking at the ground.

Jake takes another step closer to you. “Did he make you cum?”

You look at him almost bewildered. “What?”

“You heard me. Did. He. Make. You. Cum.” Jake says, stepping right up to you.

You swallow hard. “Jake don’t-“

“Answer.” He says.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. “Yes.”

He breathes in before he continues. “Was he better?”

“No. Of course not. You know that.” You say making a face at him.

“Do you love him?” He says, almost in a desperate way, pain behind those words.

“No Jake. Not like I love you. I love no one like I love you.” You choke out, as your heart sinks.

Jake stares at you for a moment before moving closer, only inches away from you. His eyes are searing down at you, he looks hurt but also like he wants to fuck you until you can’t move. You don’t hesitate to look up at him, you have hot tears formed in your eyes and your throat has a lump in it that burns profusely. Jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. Once the initial shock wears off, you hug him back tighter. You’re both breathing shakily and you don’t know what this means for you, but it feels good. Hot tears stream down your face and collect onto Jake’s flannel. He holds you for a few minutes before releasing you and kissing you softly. His lips are warm and electric and fuck have you missed them. You kiss him back gingerly, but then Jake deepens it. His hands start to roam around you, and you’re putty in his hands. You think you’re about to have passionate and needy sex, but that dissipates when Jake puts you up against the wall. His soft kisses soon turn aggressive, and he’s digging his hands into you now. Jake bites your bottom lip before stopping for a second.

“I love you angel, but tonight I’m going to fuck you like the slut you’ve been. Remember your safe word?” Jake asks, wiping the tears off of your cheeks.

You nod your head wide-eyed. He still loves you. “Yes.” You squeak out.

“Say it.” Jake growls.

“Lavender.” You half whisper.

Then his lips are back on you. He’s being so rough, but fuck do you love it. His hands find the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra and his hands are instantly on your breasts. Jake kisses down your neck and slides your shorts off leaving you just in your black panties and fluffy socks. His hands find the swell of your ass and he grabs it hard, biting down on your collarbone simultaneously. You moan out a bit and start to get exceptionally worked up. You try to unbutton Jake’s flannel, but he knocks your hands away.

“Nope.” He says.

Jake then kisses you more, guiding you off the wall into your bedroom. Jake sits you down on the bed and steps back from you.

“Look at you. So fucking pretty.” Jake taunts and he unbuttons and removes his shirt. “Such a shame that you’re such a slut. Sluts get punished. Sluts don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod.

“Words.” Jake spits out.

“Yes Jake.” You say.

“Remember your safe word?” He asks.

“Yes.” You reply.

“Good girl.” Jake praises.

He is down to his boxers now, you can see how hard he is. You knew tonight wouldn’t be easy. Jake was going to push you. That excited you and terrified you, but you knew you could take it. More so, you wanted it. Jake is kneeling down before you kissing your thighs, his fingers teasing your pantyline. You’re more than turned on. He pulls your panties around your ankles and starts kissing around your center. Jake dips his fingers into you and you gasp out.

“Mhm. So sweet.” Jake says, almost inaudible between your legs.

You try to sit still, but when Jake plunges two fingers in deeper you tilt your head back and like muscle memory your hand is wrapped in his hair. Jake lets it slide for a few minutes before he feels you start to shake.

“Not so fast angel.” Jake says coming up.

You whimper slightly at the loss of contact. Jake flips you over so your ass is up in the air.

“Gotta do something about those hands.” Jake says walking into your bathroom before returning with your black silk robe tie.

Jake pulls your arms back and ties your hands together behind your back. You won’t be able to touch yourself. Jake runs his hand all over your ass. Lightly smacking. Then he smacks your ass harder, and harder until your skin stings and you’re sure there will be a welp. It hurts, but it also feels so good.

“Fucking whore. Goddamn.” Jake spits out, moaning that last word a little.

It’s probably wrong but that turned you on even more. You can sense that he is removing his boxers now and you are dripping with anticipation. He rubs his member all down your slit as you lightly moan out. Jake doesn’t go slow, he plunges straight into you. You let out a half whimper, half moan, and your whole core is burning. You haven’t been fucked like this in a while and goddamn did you love it.

“Fuck Jake- please.” You whine out hoping he will untie you so you can touch yourself.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, sorority girl.” Jake seethes, annunciating the nickname while thrusting into you.

Hearing that formed a lump in your throat, not of sadness… but excitement? Holy shit. Jake continues to pound into you and he laces his fingers in your hair. He lightly tugs before wrapping that hand around your throat and pulling you up to him. He doesn’t get too aggressive here, you know he would never actually hurt you. He lightly squeezes at your throat causing you to spiral in your pleasure.

“Who fucks you like this?” Jake says in your ear.

You moan out. “Fuck. No one Jake. No one but you. No one could ever make me feel like this but you. No one could ever fuck me like this but you.”

Jake inhales sharply at this; but continues to fuck you. His fingers on his freehand slip down below your navel, swirling around your clit. He’s rewarding you. When you’re close yet again, Jake removes his fingers. You have tears pooling in your eyes from the constant edging. Jake drops you back down to the bed and pulls at the silk around your hands until you’re free. He pulls out of you and flips you back around. He climbs on you and takes your hands holding them both above your head. He dives in and sucks and bites at your neck while entering you again.

“Jake.” You shutter. “Please let me touch you baby.” You whine.

Jake looks at you and then kisses your lips before letting go of your hands. You immediately pull Jake closer and run your hands all up and down his back. It seems that his aggressive edge has softened and he’s close. You lace your fingers in his hair and tug while he slips his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck. Touch yourself angel I’m about to cum.” Jake says in between kisses.

You don’t have to be told twice. You keep one hand in Jake’s hair and send the other down to your clit. You swirl your fingers and it’s not long until you're throbbing around him.

“Oh fuck.” Jake moans out clamping his eyes shut and his mouth is hanging agape.

He cums right after you start, and you both ride out your orgasms. You’re both a sweaty mess of curse words, praises, and moans. The next few minutes you both just lay there breathing. Jake pressed his forehead to yours and left it there for a minute. When he finally rolls off of you he looks over and quietly asks, “Did I go too far?”

“No, not at all.” You reply still sweaty and fucked out.

“Are you sure?” He asks, furrowing his brows slightly.

“I’m positive.” You say lightly smiling.

“I love you.” Jake says, lowly.

Your heart melts at that. “I love you too.” You say back.

Jake jumps up and tells you not to move while he gets a washcloth to clean you up.

You and Jake had spent the rest of the night talking, crying, and apologizing. You woke up the next morning in his arms. It was January 2nd now and you and Jake had spent all day together in your apartment. You ordered takeout, drank wine, fucked, joked, watched movies, and cuddled. It seemed like things were returning to somewhat normalcy? Jake told you that he wanted things to go back to how they were, before the beach trip. He didn’t want to harp or discuss the incidents. You had agreed, but somewhere in your stomach you felt guilt. Guilt for Sam.

Had you really been stringing him along? You loved Sam, and perhaps if you hadn't met Jake you could see something there. You would never dare say that out loud. But you did meet Jake. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine it being anyone else, but Jake. But you wanted Sam to be okay, you wanted your friendship back.

On the 3rd of January you were sitting on your kitchen island in only Jake’s flannel sipping coffee and watching Jake cook breakfast. You still hadn’t replied to Sam’s text, it was eating you up. You and Jake had a blissful almost 48 hours, but it was time to face the music.

“Jake?” You started sipping from your mug.

He looked over at you with a spatula in hand. “Yes lover?”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask cautiously.

Jake furrows his brows at you. “I’m not leaving tomorrow. What do you mean?”

Fuck. He didn’t tell you that. Sam did. You had just assumed.

“Oh. Sam texted me telling me he was leaving on the 4th, so I just assumed you all were. He wanted to grab lunch before he left.” You say as your stomach churns.

Jake huffs and stays quiet for a little bit. “Yeah, we were supposed to. But I’m staying here for a few more days if that’s okay.”

You nod your head.

“As far as Sam goes, you should talk with him. As fucked up as all of this is I love you both. This shit should all just be put to bed. Though I don’t mean literally.” Jake says shooting you a look.

You can’t help, but slightly laugh at that. “I just don’t know what to say to him. I feel like I have fucked up royally.”

Jake wipes his hands on your towel hanging on the oven handle. “Yeah well you have. But that doesn’t erase the year plus of friendship between you two. I know you love Sam. I know he loves you too, maybe a little too much. At the end of the day neither one of you are going anywhere. You might as well try and patch things up.”

Jake has a sour tone towards the end, but you know he’s being genuine.

“You’re right. I can see if he wants to meet up tomorrow before the flight?” You question.

“No need. We should all just go to dinner tonight. I need to apologize to Jessica as well. She has been blowing my phone up. I know you’re not her biggest fan, neither am I, but it was wrong for me to use her to make you jealous.”

You huff out at that name. If Jake can let it go, then so can you. “I suppose it’s damage control night then. Have you told your brothers that we are back together?”

“Nope. I haven’t talked to them other than to text them that I’m safe. I’m sure they think I’m out on a bender wallowing in self-pity about seeing you.”

You laugh at that. “Oh you’re not?” You say jokingly.

Jake smirks at you. “Shut up and come eat your french toast.”

You had texted Sam and asked him to dinner, but to invite everyone so you could say bye. You told him that you two could talk at the bar and grab drinks before dinner. You neglected to mention that Jake was coming with you. Josh had texted Jake inviting him to dinner, of course Jake agreed. You were nervous about tonight, but it made you happier that Jake would be there with you.

You had on a black long sleeve bodysuit that dips down a little, with light wash mom jeans with ripped knees. You put beach’s waves in your hair and did a full face as it was night, but also Jessica would be there, so. You wore taupe heeled boots with a gold necklace with your initial and chunky gold hoops. You put on your black and white plaid peacoat, spritzed perfume and you were ready. Jake wore his regular light washed jeans with his chelsea boots. He had on a halfway buttoned black shirt with a flannel jacket over it and his normal necklace.

Jake grabbed your purse for you. “You ready?”

You sigh a little. “Yeah let’s go.”

When you both arrived at the restaurant your confidence was waning. Jake held your hand and gave you an assuring squeeze sensing your hesitation. You had all decided on a casual pub that had decent food, a good bar, and old arcade games.

Jake opened the door for you and you both entered. Jake never let go of your hand. The place wasn’t super big, so you could see everyone and eyes were on you when you entered.

Sam was sitting at the bar. His eyes were on you and he looked incredibly solemn. He had a beer in his hand but paused on sipping when he saw you and Jake enter. Josh was sitting next to him, turned now to look at you two.

You swear you saw Josh’s lips say, “Well I guess we know where Jake was at.”

You flick your eyes over and Danny is at the pinball machine with Jessica. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you a death stare. Jake kisses your cheek and sends you off to the bar while he heads for the pinball machine. You take a deep breath and smile as you approach Sam and Josh. Josh jumps up and pats Sam on the back before giving you a smile and walking to Danny, who has also been sent away. You take your coat off and sit it on the back of the chair before sitting down.

“Hi.” You say as you get situated.

Sam sighs a little. “Hi.”

“What are you drinki-“ you start but get cut off.

“So you and Jake are back together huh.” Sam says, a statement rather than a question.

You feel your heart sink for Sam. “Yes.”

Sam lets out a small laugh and takes a drink. “Damn. That’s a bummer. I guess when I didn’t see you two together at Daniel’s party, and Jake dragging Jessica around gave me hope. But none of us are dumb. We all knew why Jake decided to out of the blue invite Jessica to Atlanta.”

You bite your lip trying to find the best words to say.

“I still held out hope for us, all this time. I feel like a fucking idiot. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for you and me.” Sam says, taking a sip of his beer and looking off at the distance.

“Sam” you start trying to take his hand but he pulls away.

“No. It’s okay. I’m not a child and you don’t owe me anything.” He says.

You huff. “Sam, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that I let this happen. I’m so fucking sorry if I have dragged you along or given you hope. I’m sorry.” You start to get choked up.

Sam looks like he might cry too. “Hey please don’t cry. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry. I’m just as complacent in this. I should have told you how I felt sooner. This just sucks.”

“I know, but Sam I want you to know how much I love you. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to lose you in my life. You’re my best friend.” You say actually grabbing his hands this time.

Sam sniffles. “I love you too, and more than in the way that you’re inferring. I just want you to know that.”

You look up at him and give him a pity smile.

“But I also love my brother.” Sam clears his throat and continues. “And no matter how much it hurts, I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy. You’re my best friend. Although I can’t be in your life how I want to, I would rather be in your life as a friend than not in it at all.” Sam sniffles. “Plus you need me as a cornhole partner.”

You laugh at that and Sam wipes a tear from your cheek then wipes one from his own.

“Are we going to be okay?” You ask.

“Of course we are, it’s you and me sorority girl. Time heals all wounds- well that and alcohol.” He says raising his beer up to you.

You giggle at that. “I will drink to that. Hey bartender! Can I have what he’s having?”

The rest of the dinner had gone surprisingly well. Jessica left after Jake told her there was no chance he would ever leave you. She was livid, and called you a whore- Jake put her in her place quickly. Danny and Josh tried their best to pretend like everything was normal, but before long it started to feel normal. Drinks kept on flowing, you all shared appetizers, and played the arcade games until the place shut down. When it was time to leave you had given everyone hugs.

“I’ll call you soon?” You say to Sam mid hug.

“You better.” He smirks down at you.

You return to Jake’s side and he puts his arm around you.

“Yeah I’ll be back in Nashville in a week or so for the label meeting.” Jake says to them.

They wish you both well and you part ways. When you get back to your apartment you feel like a massive weight has been lifted from your chest. You and Jake both discussed the conversations you had tonight, and decided that the past was the past. You were ready for your future together. The night ended with you two in between the sheets. You didn’t fuck, you made love.

You laid awake that night while Jake softly snored next to you. You observed his beautiful features as his arm laid across your chest.

All you could think about was the tarot card you pulled on Halloween night. It didn’t matter the true meaning of it or what changed since you drew it. What mattered is that you interpreted how you wanted, how it fit in your life. That interpretation was Jake. It has always been Jake, since the first time you met him in that bar. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you. He captivated you in a way that no one else could. He was who you saw yourself being with forever, through sickness and health.

It has always been Jake.

And it always will be.

• wow can’t believe we made it to the end! Thank you so much for reading, your comments & feedback brighten my day. Make sure to stick around for the epilogue next week :)

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #the lovers

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