#the rest of the story is about coming back from the fallout

[ghirahimbo]

evil time loop escape conditions where you can't get out until you've fuucked up your life in the most spectacular way possible, confident that the next night will reset the slate as usual.

instead, the next day comes.

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[starlazergazer]

Separated

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: You could do a story where the reader and Anakin had something, but the order tried everything to separate them, and so Anakin wasn't there when she ended up dying. That will be the trigger for him to start doubting the order, and hating them, but it turns out that a reader from another universe, who is exactly the same as his, just shows up.

Warning: Angst! Almost character death, lots of swearing tbh my bad

Word Count: 7k

A/N: Changed the request just a bit hope that’s okay but obsessed with the overall premise! I’m thinking she needs a part 2 but let me know what y’all think!

There was something uniquely terrifying about a silent Anakin Skywalker.

Everyone knew the jedi had a temper, it wasn’t something he was necessarily subtle about, there were few who had been at one time or another on the other end of it, you included.

But Anakin’s temper always exposed itself in the same way. Yelling, pacing, ranting. There were a number of times you had sat down before him waiting for him to get his lecture out of the way, letting him explode like a volcano before being able to actually have a constructive conversation with him.

You honestly couldn’t think of the last time you had seen him as he was now. Quiet, still, contemplative.

Admittedly there was a part of you that wanted to poke the bear, to say something that you knew would make him explode, force him back into charted territory so you knew how to deal with the fallout.

“I just don’t see the big deal”

Still nothing, a harsh glare boring down on you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so harshly you could see the muscle through his skin, not a word.

“You do stuff like that all the time”

Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he took measured, deep breaths.

You were returning home a hero, the entire hanger had cheered for you the moment you touched down, a hoard of people circling you with congratulatory hugs the second your foot touched solid ground, and still somehow Anakin had the power to make you feel like you’d failed.

This was supposed to be your moment and still somehow Anakin controlled the temperature in the room.

“I told you to turn back”

You’d stopped expecting him to speak, so thrown off by the sudden change you physically jumped at the sound of his voice, at how unexpectedly quiet it was.

“That was the wrong call and you know it”

Anakin took a deep breath at your response, his gaze cutting suddenly to the left, a moment passing as he collected himself before responding, that act alone almost making you faulter.

“If it was the wrong call I wouldn’t have made it. I told you to turn back”

“And you aren’t my reporting officer”

“This isn’t a game Y/N!”

The sudden explosion from the man would have surprised you if you hadn’t been unconsciously waiting for it, coiled like a spring waiting for Anakin to snap, waiting for him to yell, a weird weight lifting off your chest as you returned to normalcy.

“I know this isn’t a game do you?” You shot back quickly, just as loudly “He had coordinates, locations of nearly every battalion in the galaxy, information like that isn’t simply a pawn you can choose to trade away”

“Neither are you”

The response came too quickly, too quietly, too seriously for you to fully comprehend the words as he said them, your body physically recoiling at the sudden drop in temperature.

“I was fine”

“You were within firing range” he argued back, his hands coming down to rest on his hips as he glared at you “an entire separatist fleet was on the other side of that moon waiting for him to drag whatever republic ships he could towards them so they could shoot it down and you fell right into that trap”

“I didn’t have a choice”

“You had multiple” he shut you down without ever raising his voice, a single glare enough to silence you “listening to me for one of them”

“And if you had been in my shoes” you prompted “if you had been close enough to chase him would you have simply let him get away?”

“I would have-“ you scoffed before he could get the words out, seeing exactly where he was going before he got there.

“don’t lie to me Anakin Skywalker you treat risking your life as if it were a paying job”

You watched his jaw tick at your response, his words dying on his lips before he changed routs “I told you to turn back”

You let a humorless laugh bubble out of you, a frustrated hand raking across your face as you shook your head “I can’t believe you’re being so blatantly hypocritical right now”

“It’s different” his words came out so quick he seemed almost surprised to hear them himself.

“How?” you demanded more than asked, silently daring him to give you a legitimate answer you weren’t sure he could supply.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off before he could finish, a huff escaping before he took a deep breath and continued “I need you to listen to me. When I tell you what to do I need you to listen to me”

“Even if-“

“yes” he cut you off before you could get your question off “whatever context, whatever quantifiers I don’t care. Out there I need you to listen to me”

Again his tone was throwing you for a loop. Gone was the anger, the frustration, the ire. Now he seemed to be almost begging, pleading with you to listen to him, to agree, to promise something like today wouldn’t happen again.

But you had made the right call. That was what was sticking with you. You know what you did was risky, hell you could get behind even calling it a little reckless, but objectively it was the right call. You were talking about locations of every troop of clones in the republic in the hands of the separatist’s how could he not see that this was worth anything, that taking down this spy was worth everything.

“Ani what-“

“There you two are” a new voice interrupted you, the sudden appearance of Obi-wan pulling you back to the present moment, reminding you that you and Anakin were in the jedi temple, that you had just come back from a mission, that you still had duties to uphold.

“Master Kenobi” you quickly greeted the man with a small bow, watching the man you had practically grown up under break out into a proud grin as he clapped you on the shoulder.

“That was a great shot Y/N” he praised you shaking you softly “you saved the Republic today I hope you know that”

And though you could feel your chest warm with the praise you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge because of it, not missing Anakin’s small scoff at Obi-wan’s words.

Anakin was your best friend, a man you grew up beside as a padawan, a man you had been practice dueling since you could hold a saber, and you had just pulled off a major victory for the Republic. Was it really too much to ask that your friend take just a second to be proud of you.

“Thank you master” you responded warmly nonetheless nodding at him “believe me when I say it wasn’t easy”

The older man laughed warmly at your words, dropping his hand from your shoulder as he did “that I don’t doubt but believe me when I say we are all glad your maneuver paid off, what you pulled was risky”

You shot a guilty glance at Anakin only to see the man casting his gaze at the floor, arms snaked back around his chest physically distancing himself from the two of you in this moment.

“Anyways what I came here to say is that the council is looking for the two of you” Obi-wan continued on, either choosing to ignore or missing the tension hanging in the air between you and Anakin “you need to debrief before you’re free for the evening.”

“Of course master” you answered for the two of you “we will be right there”

Obi-wan gave you an appreciative nod before taking his leave, casting a questioning glance at his former padawan before exiting the room, casting you and Anakin in a thick silence you were tentative to break.

“Ani-“ you tried but he cut you off.

“Look we’ll talk later” he muttered over his shoulder, already making his way out of the room “we shouldn’t keep them waiting”

-

You could never feel comfortable in the jedi council room, something you were sure was done by design as you and Anakin were forced into the middle of the room, made the literal center of attention.

Even as you knew you were here to receive praise for your actions you couldn’t help but shrink beneath Mace Windu’s gaze.

“-you exemplified what it means to be a jedi knight perfectly today jedi Y/L/N” Master Windu droned on, his voice thankfully lacking the usual edge it had when addressing you with Anakin in the room “we thank you for your actions today”

“I was just doing my job” you responded humbly as you were expected to with a respectful nod “but I am glad to have been of help”

“Of great help you were” Master Kloon chimed in pulling your attention to him as he spoke “the republic owes you a great debt today”

You smiled politely at Mater Kloon, gaze again being drawn across the room as Master Fisto picked up where Kloon left off, a part of you wondering if they did this on purpose to disorient you “we do however have one question regarding this situation. Jedi Skywalker you tried to order Jedi Y/L/N back”

“I did” Anakin’s response was quick with an edge to his voice that had you mentally sighing, you weren’t eager to witness Anakin go up against the council today. “The spy’s ship had reached firing range of the rest of the battalion anyone who followed him was likely to be shot before they could reach”

“Called her back before she reached firing range you did” Master Yoda spoke this time, eyes planted solely on Anakin as he spoke

“She was far back from the spy’s ship, by the time she reached him they would both be within firing range” Anakin countered through gritted teeth, you watched him ball his fists at his sides from the corner of your eye.

“That ultimately however proved not to be the case as she was able to take down the spy without any harm coming to her own fighter” Mace Windu spoke carefully, clearly organizing a path down which he planned to steer this conversation.

A tense silence passed for a moment, a staring contest passing between the Jedi master and the general before Anakin spoke “a miscalculation on my part then”

“It’s a good thing she ignored your miscalculation then” Master Windu offered dryly “we do however have access to the flight com logs. Would you like to explain jedi Skywalker why you ordered jedi Y/L/N not once but five times to turn back”

“Her pursuing as she did was a risk I wasn’t willing to make at the time master”

“Even when aware of the information that ship contained” Master Windu prompted with a raised brow “every troop location of the Republics army. Are you saying you weren’t wiling to risk the life of one jedi for the fate of this war Jedi Skywalker?”

“I don’t trade in lives Master” Anakin challenged back quickly.

“One life versus the lives of billions across the galaxy the math should be easy Jedi”

“we’re here to be Jedi knights not martyrs”

“And it is your duty as jedi knights to do whatever it takes to protect the republic as Jedi Y/L/N did”

“And if she had failed? If the inevitable had happened and she was fired upon the second she came within distance? What good would a dead Jedi knight have done anyone” Anakin was seething at this point, the familiar white hot anger you had expected to be directed at you earlier finally making its appearance.

“We can stop pretending this is about just any Jedi Knight” Mace Windu’s words had Anakin physically recoiling, effectively throwing him off course having the two of you furrowing your brows “there is a reason the jedi code forbids attachments”

“Master we haven’t formed an attachment” you took this as your chance to chime in, keeping your voice light trying to dispel any lingering tension in the air.

Master Windu’s eyes took a second too long to break from Anakin’s to meet yours, a knowing silence permeating the air as if he meant to let your comment hang in it “what happened today, any possibility of letting that spy go, cannot happen again”

You furrowed your brow at his vague response, eyes snapping back to master Yoda as he spoke up.

“not a punishment this is” he chimed in softly, looking directly at you as he did so “remember that you must”

Your eyes snapped back to Master Windu “master what are you saying?”

Mace Windu’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and Anakin for a moment before landing on the latter, another small silence stretching before he spoke “Jedi Skywalker and Y/L/N going forward are forbidden from going on missions together”

A stunned silence fell over you and Anakin, your eyes casting immediately to him only to see his disbelieving gaze locked on Mace Windu “Master you can’t-“ gone was all edge in Anakin’s tone, an almost pleading one taking its place as he tried to talk.

“The council’s decision on this is final” Master Windu cut Anakin off with a single raised hand.

“but-“

“You are dismissed jedi” The doors to the council room opened behind you before Anakin could get out any more than a word. Master Windu leaving no room for either of you to plead your case.

Numbly you left the room with Anakin in tow, your brain still struggling to wrap itself around what had just occurred as you entered the hallway and stopped against the wall, Anakin not missing a beat as he started to pace back and forth in front of you.

“You have to tell me where you’re going next I’ll see if I can at least be close” he was already talking a mile a minute, almost mumbling as if talking to himself rather than you.

“I can’t even remember the last mission I did without you” you mused quietly.

“Under no circumstances can you go alone either take Obi-wan or I’ll give you Rex”

“I can’t believe the council thinks we need to be separated”

“And call me every day even if it’s just to check in”

“Ani you know I can handle myself right” Your sudden direct address of him brought Anakin’s attention back to you, his pacing halting as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“After today?” He laughed bitterly in response.

“I came back today” you countered defensively, at this point beyond tired of this same argument “not a scratch on my ship I am alive and well”

“And you almost weren’t” finally Anakin exploded on you, vein popping in his neck as he yelled, a frustrated hand tangling itself in his hair as his pacing picked up once again “you got lucky. That’s it. What you did was dangerous, it was stupid, it was risky, and it only paid off because you got lucky and I feel like I’m going insane because how can no one see that? You are only here right now because you got lucky and there is no guarantee on that a second time”

“Or I’m a good pilot” you shot back angrily “I’m a good pilot and a good jedi who trusted her instincts and accomplished the goal. Is it really that hard for you to trust in my ability?”

Anakin physically deflated at your words, the full meaning of his own hitting him for the first time as he crumpled slightly “Y/N I didn’t mean-”

“No that’s just what you said” you cut him off “I get it you think I can’t handle myself and shouldn’t be trusted. I’m not sure why you’d want to be sent out on missions with me anyways”

“Y/N please” Anakin begged softly but you had had enough, cutting him off with a shake of your head and a sigh.

“No Ani I’m done with whatever is happening right now. It’s been a long day and I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, taking a second to take a deep breath before turning on your heel leaving Anakin behind as you made your way back to your room, calling softly over your shoulder “I’m done”

-

You knew who was behind your door before he had even knocked. Could feel him lurking behind it. Afterall who else would be at your room this late at night.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, Anakin just showing up at your room. Sometimes it was to apologize, sometimes it was because he had a nightmare, sometimes it was because he could sense yours. It didn’t matter really because he knew no matter what he was always welcome here, you made sure of that.

It was why he wasn’t surprised when you opened the door before he could officially make himself known. The two of you looking silently at one another before Anakin wordlessly engulfed you in a hug.

You went willingly, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around you, not even bothering to exit the doorway as the two of you stood there and took a second to appreciate the feeling of being supported by the other person.

“You scared me today” the words were mumbled into your hair.

“It was a risk I had to take” you responded softly into his chest, his arms tightening around you at your words.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off, readjusting slightly to tuck your head under his chin before he spoke again “I don’t like it when you do that”

“And you think I like it when you do” you responded with a laugh, pulling back slightly to look up at him, Anakin reluctantly letting his grasp of you go as you did so.

“I know I just-“ he sighed “I’m sorry Y/N”

“I know Ani”

Finally a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, a moment passing where neither of you said a thing simply enjoying the moment in each others presence before Anakin broke it “I mean it when I say I trust you just please, promise me you’ll be careful”

You smiled softly up at your friend, extending a pinky out to him “I promise Ani”

He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours, neither of you able in this moment to recognizing your lie for what it was.

-

He almost hadn’t answered.

That was the thought that ruminated in his head for weeks after.

You had called, it wasn’t your normal time to talk, and Anakin had almost ignored it, almost told himself he would call you back later.

Thank the maker he was never good at ignoring you.

Your face came up immediately on his hollow display, picture posed strategically to only show your shoulders and above. And even though a smile graced your lips the second he picked up Anakin could still feel it the moment he saw you. Like a punch to the gut, it suddenly hit him that something was wrong. Something was catastrophically wrong. How had he not sensed it earlier?

“Where are you?”

You had just chuckled weakly in response and any other time Anakin lived for that sound but not now, right now he needed you to answer “there’s nothing getting past you is there Ani”

“You were sent to the outer rim right” Anakin steam rolled ahead, grabbing his cloak already intending to hijack the next available ship. He didn’t care if Mace Windu himself was scheduled to be on it.

“That was two missions ago”

Your words halted him in place, Anakin freezing on the spot as he glared back at you, “Y/N”

“Anakin” Maker how could you tease him like this now? You were always stubborn and he loved that about you but right now was not the time to play with his emotions, not with all this at stake.

“I’ll go ask Obi-wan” he was talking more to himself than you at this point, mind whirling with every possible path forward.

He heard you sigh from the communicator but didn’t pay it too much mind, you could yell at him for it later, he would give anything to hear you yell at him later.

“It’s a direct shot to my abdomen” You sucked in a deep breath, gaze dropping to your torso with a grimace, looking at something Anakin couldn’t see “losing blood like this there’s no way you make it in time”

“You don’t know that” he was arguing back before he could properly process your words, his brain refusing to even allow for that possibility.

“I do Ani” you shot him a sad smile, bleeding out, in who knows where and still you were comforting him.

“No there’s got to be someone nearby, another jedi, a local, someone who can help” He was shaking his head, brain desperately clinging to any solution it could.

“I didn’t call you so you could try and solve my problems”

“So why did you call me then?” He knew he wasn’t mad at you, he knew you would know that to, but still he cringed at the way it slipped out, at the way you shoulders slumped slightly at his words.

“Do I ever need a reason to talk to you?”

And he realized then this was you asking for the only help he could give. He was planets away with no ability to reach you and you were asking not to be alone at the end. And even though it killed him he could never say no to you.

“Of course you don’t Y/N”

You smiled at that. A real smile, no undercurrent of pain or pity. Anakin found himself trying desperately to commit to the sight to memory.

“Remember when the council separated us because they thought we had formed an attachment?” You asked softly, head resting back against the wall behind you, your entire body rising and falling with each labored breath.

“Right now it’s hard to forget” he bit down the resentment, it wasn’t what you deserved.

Still you chuckled at him, wincing slightly as you did so “I think right now I have to admit they were onto something”

“I thought that was obvious when I tried to put the entire republic army at risk so that you would be safe”

A teasing roll of your eyes, a fond chuckle “shut up stupid I’m trying to have a moment here”

“I’m sorry please go ahead with your moment” a part of him resented how easy the banter came now, how easy it always came with you, it wasn’t fair.

“You’re my person Anakin” you practically whispered the words, Anakin’s heart swelling painfully in his chest at them “At the end of the day I will always choose you and for the first time I’m not going to condemn myself for thinking it”

“You picked a hell of a time for that revelation sweetheart” the pet name came naturally, he nearly choked on it as it fell from his lips.

You laughed in response, shifting positions with a grunt “Master Kloon did always tell me I needed to work on my timing”

Anakin chimed in before a silence could fully settle over the two of you, “Though I’m sure it’s obvious I will always choose you too Y/N” he took a small amount of pride in the soft smile that grew on your lips at his words.

“So what do you say after the war we leave the order?” You propositioned with a cheesy grin “You and me Skywalker”

It hurt how easily the answer came to him “where would we go?”

“I’ve always liked Naboo” How quickly your answer came made him wonder if like him this wasn’t the first time you had considered this exact scenario.

“I could get a job working on speeders” He proposed with a sad smile.

“I think I’d work at a cantina” you mused back “always thought it would be fun to get to meet people from all over the galaxy”

“It would be a good life” he could feel the truth of those words in his very bones.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, both lost in thoughts of what if, before you broke it “Thank you Ani”

“Don’t thank me” he protested weakly “not for this”

“Then for everything else”

Another short silence, a quiet plea slipping unbidden from Anakin “please don’t” he knew where you were going next.

“I have to” you answered softly, solemnly “I think it’s time to say goodbye”

“You don’t have to hang up” he protested “not yet”

“I don’t want you to see me like that” And again he was never one to refuse you anything, a final request he couldn’t say no to. “I love you Ani”

Maker how could hearing those words somehow hurt worse than not hearing them ever did.

“I love you Y/N”

A single tear slipped down your cheek and then you were gone. The newfound silence of the room suffocating him as the emptiness in his chest leached out to fill the space in the room around him.

-

The republic has fallen.

The jedi are no more.

The empire reigns in its place.

Anakin Skywalker is dead.

There was a lot you were told upon waking up from your medically induced coma that was hard to believe. A lot of news that was broken to you that was difficult to swallow. The fact that your entire life fell apart in the mere two weeks you were in a bacta tank was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be able to come to terms with.

Being with the rebellion helped, to know that despite everything there was still a group of people out there who were willing to put everything on the line for what was right. To a certain extent it felt like being home. It helped you learn to come to terms with those four impossible facts.

So now how were you supposed to deal with learning that one of those facts was actually a lie.

You had seen the trepidation on their faces when you walked into the room, the way the entire groups focus was on you the second you stepped in, it almost felt like being back before the council, you would’ve laughed if they hadn’t seemed so somber.

Now you understand why.

As soon as the words left Mon Mothma’s mouth you felt the ground buckle beneath your feet, felt the world around you start to drown out, felt your legs threaten to give out from beneath you.

You would’ve given anything to hear those words just weeks ago, would’ve wept at the thought of being where you were now, but to hear them so shortly after you had tried to heal the wound was nothing but another devastating blow.

“You told me he was dead”

The group shared nervous looks and your every doubt about the rebellion came rushing to the surface. They were no different than the council at it’s worst, wiling to do anything to separate the two of you, willing to lie to make sure you stayed under their thumb, willing to keep things from you because they believed they knew better. Why did it always feel like you were working for the wrong side?

“We believed he was”

“Bullshit” the word slipped from your lips before your gaze could even meet the speaker’s, anger flaring from your chest at the words “a fact like that, as large of that, there had to be rumors, you had to have guessed”

“We didn’t want to get your hopes up”

A bitter laugh rose to the surface, hands coming to your hair in exasperation “I was told the very republic I gave my life for had fallen, that the very group I was fighting against are now in control, and everyone I had ever known dead at the very hands of the people I had sworn to lead and you didn’t think I could’ve used a little hope?”

“We thought-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” you countered before they could finish, eyes daring the group to say something “maker how can you not see that it was this very hubris that led to the fall of the jedi? Of the republic? Just because you think you know better-“

“He goes by Darth Vader” a new voice jumped in, your eyes snapping to the holo-projection of Bail Organa, the senator’s eyes giving nothing away but pity.

“no-“ the protest fizzled on your lips, barely enough breath behind it to properly get it out.

“The source is solid” it was Mon Mothma again, eyes practically begging you to listen. “Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader”

And for a second your brain couldn’t comprehend it, wouldn’t comprehend it. How were you supposed to reconcile these two opposite people as one? “No that doesn’t make any sense”

“I’m sorry Y/N”

“No” you protested loudly, as if yelling could get it to not be true, could get them to admit they were lying, this this was all some sick joke “Someone is wrong, someone is lying to you-“

“The information is good” another voice interrupted but you were too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even identify who it was.

“No the Anakin Skywalker I knew wouldn’t-“

“The Anakin Skywalker you knew died the day that you did” Senator Organa cut through all the noise in your head, his voice loud but not unkind as he drew your attention, the entire world seeming to fall deathly silent after those words.

“What does that mean” your voice was quiet, broken, you didn’t have it in you to care.

“It was an open secret” he explained softly, the senator façade breaking just slightly “the day you were reported to have died Anakin fought with the Jedi council, fought with Obi-wan, no one could get him to calm down, to think rationally. Eventually he made his way to Palpatine’s office, he hasn’t been seen since”

“We all knew of his distaste for the council before this” Mon Mothma chimed in “he blamed them for your death, drove him right into the arms of the current emperor”

Your mind had slowed, had calmed noticeably but still you found yourself dancing around the issue rather than actually dealing with it, your thoughts instead deciding suddenly to stick to something else.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You watched them all carefully, noticing the nervous glances they sent towards one another rather than answer “I wasn’t lying when I said you were just like the former council, preferring to sit on information until it could properly serve your purpose so what’s the purpose this time?”

Again Mon Mothma took the lead, hesitantly speaking up “he’s formed a group with the sole purpose of hunting down and killing any remaining jedi. It’s quite frankly only a matter of time before he finds you”

You furrowed your brow at this “so you’re warning me? Telling me I need to leave the base?” you shook your head slightly, not liking how either of those answers fit before it finally clicked “you want me to stop him”

“We want you to talk to him” Senator Organa corrected you “if there’s anyone who can get through to that man it’s you”

You eyed each of them skeptically, knowing as you were sure they did as well, that this question only truly had one answer “I’ve been told twice in this conversation alone that Anakin Skwalker is dead.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself on the back of a chair “for all of our sakes I hope that’s not true”

-

Realistically you knew it was true the minute your ship touched down. Even if you weren’t conscious of it at the time you could feel that all too familiar force signature coming from the planet, seeping into your very bones.

To know it logically was an entirely different story.

You stayed hidden, following from alleyways and rooftops, you couldn’t make out the man beneath the costume but everything about him was just wrong. His gait was wrong, the way he held himself was wrong, the red saber at his hip was wrong, there was no possible way the man beneath the mask was that familiar jedi. And yet…

You couldn’t face him. You knew that. Even if it was Anakin under there you weren’t ready to find out, weren’t sure which answer would be more devastating to you.

So even though it meant failure you put your hood on and slunk away, leaving behind Darth Vader whoever he was, ready to tell the rebellion they would have to come up with another way.

You got little more than a flutter of a cape in warning before he descended upon you.

The black figure whipped around the corner faster than your brain could comprehend, having time to do little more than simply freeze in place before you were lifted off the ground by a force you were all too familiar with, invisible fingers tightening around your neck as you were lifted.

“You’ve been following-“ you got little of the figures voice through the mask before he suddenly cut himself off, the pressure on your neck easing just enough to allow you to gasp for breath, the world stilling around you as you looked out from under your hood at what was supposedly Anakin Skywalker.

The world stood at a standstill for a moment, you hovering inches above the ground, toes desperately seeking purchase, Darth Vader silently staring at you, hand held before him almost trembling. You were working yourself up to croaking out a question when his other hand raised suddenly and with a flick of his wrist your hood went flying back.

The second the light hit your eyes the force on your neck disappeared and you crumbled to the ground below in a heap.

Precious few seconds were given for you to gulp down breath before you were hauled back up by your neck again, this time an actual hand secured firmly around it as you were all but thrown against the wall, your head smacking against the brick painfully.

“who are you” even through the voice modulation you could hear the way he seethed beneath the helmet, ire barely contained by the black material.

“Y/N” you croaked weakly, clawing half-heartedly at the hand around your neck that held you in place.

His fingers tightened in response before he pulled you back and slammed your head once again against the wall, a soft groan escaping you at the impact “now is not the time for games now who are you”

“I’m telling the truth” you practically begged, unable to feel any shame in it as the edges of your vision started to black from lack of air.

“That’s impossible-“ you couldn’t really bring yourself to listen to the rest of the sentence, the only thing running through your mind was a grim acceptance that this was how you would die. Supposedly at the hands of the man you had once loved.

“Ani please”

And you hadn’t meant for the plea to escape you, barely even registered that the nickname passed through your lips. All you could focus on was the fact that after they came out into the open you had finally been released.

Again you crashed to the ground, hands splayed out to catch yourself before you could faceplant, lungs burning as you greedily gulped down air.

“Why would you-“ The words died in his throat and a strange, bitter part of you wanted to laugh.

Once you finally had better control of your breathing you sat back on your heels and looked up at the man clad in black before you, squinting slightly at the sun over his shoulder. “It’s true then”

He didn’t respond, simply looked down at you.

“take off your helmet”

“who do you think you are-“ again the urge to laugh surfaced, the way he reached for anger so readily was so similar to the man you once knew, how could you not have seen it earlier.

“Take off the helmet” He physically recoiled at the command. You softened your voice in response, practically pleading with him "I need to see your face"

Again the man before you went rigid, a tense few seconds passing in silence before he hesitantly reached up and pulled off the helmet.

The man standing before you looked somehow older than you remembered but unmistakably him, and every thought about your mission flew out the window the second his eyes made contact with your own. Your brain rejected the similarities outright, because despite being told Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one in the same you still couldn’t handle this physical evidence linking the two.

You reacted without thinking, taking a single step forward and planting your hands on his chest, roughly shoving him backwards, Anakin allowing himself to be moved without a second thought “Maker Ani what the fuck were you thinking”

His helmet slipped from his grasp absentmindedly, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest where your hands had just been as he just stared at you, eyes swirling with too many emotions for you to pin down at the moment.

“Palpetine are you serious?” You demanded more than asked, hurling the implication at him with reckless abandon “I always told you I didn’t trust him and still you-“

“You weren’t there” he cut you off and his voice was so soft, so broken it startled you into silence, your body physically recoiling back a step as he spoke “You weren’t there, and he was all I had”

“You had Obi-wan, you had Rex, you had people who cared about you Ani”

“They weren’t you” his answer back came steadfast and resolutely, leaving no room for argument, followed by a much quieter, more broken statement “they took you from me”

“No one but that weapons dealer took me from you.”

“They did” neither of you felt the need to define the ‘they’ to which you both referred “If they hadn’t kept me from going with you I could’ve-“

“You don’t know that” you cut him off, this argument feeling much to familiar “Even if you had been there we don’t know-“

“If I had been there then you wouldn’t have-“ and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, the natural end to it evidence that this was an argument he has already had with himself too many times before.

“I didn’t” you begged him to listen to you, “I’m okay. Ani I’m right here”

Your words seemed to shock him out of his own personal bubble, his eyes darting frantically around him before he seized you by the wrist suddenly, surprising you, as he started to pull you further down the alley “you need to go Y/N”

“What” the question left you on an exhale, his sudden change in attitude giving you whiplash as he tried to pull you behind him.

“You can’t be here you need to-“ he whispered quickly, frantically, almost as if the words weren’t for you.

You pulled back on your arm forcing him to stop “Ani I’m not leaving you”

He furrowed his brow at your declaration, a hand on your shoulder trying to nudge you forward still “Y/N do you know what the empire will do to you if-“

“I don’t care” you declared back, halting his movements once again, using his grip on your arm to pull his attention back down to you “I already lost you once, don’t make me do it again”

His eyes bounced desperately back and forth between yours as he set his jaw, you could practically see a million different arguments running through his head.

“Halt” a new voice broke through the tense silence, Anakin’s gaze flickering to its source above your head. You barely had time to gaze over your shoulder at the trio of clone troopers that had approached, guns drawn, before Anakin had sent the lead one flying rapidly into the wall with a flick of his wrist.

You tried desperately to hide your flinch at the noise of his armer hitting the building.

The other two froze on the spot, blasters still pointed at you, but Anakin ignored them both, hand still held aloft as he stared down at you debating his next steps for a precious few moments before he spoke.

You could see him physically morph as he addressed the clone troopers, could see him become that other man, that Darth, in the way he squared his shoulders and straightened his back, the way his voice dropped an octave, the way his grip on your wrist grew almost painful as his gaze bore down into yours

“this one is force sensitive, she comes with me”

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part Nine

Bucky x reader au

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None, boring chapter

A/N: Im not gonna lie, I've been struggling with this story but soooooo many of yall keep asking when I'm gonna update so I just decided to sit down and lay it all out and write the rest of the fic, so here we gooo.

Im not really vibing with this fic anymore, its hard ughhh

Masterpost

--------

The fallout from that night lingered like a storm cloud over Bucky’s head. His bruised knuckles ached every time he clenched his fists, but that pain was nothing compared to the weight in his chest. Nothing compared to the feeling of walking onto campus and not seeing you waiting at your usual spot outside the library, earbuds in, lost in whatever song had caught your attention that day.

You weren’t avoiding him. No, avoiding meant there was still something to salvage. You were done with him. And that realization sat heavy in his bones.

The first day back, Bucky barely made it through practice. His head wasn’t in it, his movements sluggish, off-tempo. Coach chewed him out in front of everyone, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with him, but Bucky barely processed it. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either.

“Yo, what is up with you?” Sam asked, tossing a towel over his shoulder as they walked out of the locker room after practice.

“Nothing,” Bucky muttered, keeping his gaze ahead, scanning the crowd in the hallway like an idiot. Like he was expecting to see you there.

Sam let out a low whistle. “Man, you’re really gonna sit here and act like I don’t know exactly what this is about? You’re looking for her.”

Bucky stiffened, but didn’t deny it.

“You fucked up,” Sam continued, like he was narrating Bucky’s entire downfall in real time. “You really fucked up and now you’re moody as shit, walking around campus like a ghost. It’s pathetic.”

Bucky finally turned his head, glaring. “Are you gonna help or just talk shit?”

“Hey, I would help,” Sam said with a smirk. “But I don’t think she wants help from me or you.”

That stung more than it should have. Because Sam was right, he usually was and he felt it, really felt it when he finally caught sight of you in the dining hall later that day.

You were sitting at a table in the corner, away from the noise, curled into yourself as you read. You weren’t alone, though. Your roommate, Wanda, was there, sitting across from you, flipping through a textbook. Wanda glanced up shooter daggers at Bucky, and if looks could kill, well he’d be dead.

Bucky’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

He didn’t even realize he’d been staring until Sam nudged him hard in the ribs. “Don’t be an idiot,” Sam warned. “Don’t go over there and make shit worse.”

Bucky scoffed. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

“Whatever,” Bucky muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. He tore his eyes away from you, because seeing you wasn’t something he could deal with right now.

"Look man, everything will work out how its suppose to." Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get food before you do something stupid.”

Bucky let Sam pull him away, but even as he stood in line for food, even as his teammates laughed and talked around him, all he could think about was you.

How he’d lost you before he even really had you, and you were the first thing he ever truly wanted.

---

The campus felt different or maybe you felt different.

You used to love walking through the courtyard in the morning, headphones in, drowning out the world with your favorite playlist. Now, every step felt heavier, like you were dragging the weight of last week behind you. The whispers, the stares, they weren’t imagined. You felt them. You could hear them. It felt different then when you lost your sister, you turn out the looks of pity, of sadness, of guilt but this was different, you had never felt anything like this before.

“That’s her.”

“Did you hear what happened?”

“Can’t believe Bucky would stoop that low.”

“Bet he didn’t even enjoy himself.”

You kept your head down, gripping the straps of your backpack until your fingers ached. You weren’t naïve. You knew how things worked here. How gossip spread like wildfire, how people loved to take a tragedy and turn it into entertainment.

You just never thought you’d be the subject of it.

Wanda was waiting for you outside your first lecture hall. She was leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone, but as soon as she saw you, her face softened with something that looked a lot like pity.

“Don’t,” you muttered before she could even say anything. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Wanda sighed but nodded, falling into step beside you as you entered the lecture hall. “Alright. No talking. But just so you know, if anyone tries to pull some Mean Girls shit, I will make them cry.”

Despite everything, a tiny smirk tugged at your lips. “I believe you.”

The first class dragged, your mind constantly drifting, your knee bouncing beneath the desk. You felt his absence. Bucky wasn’t in this class with you, but for so long, he’d been the thing that pulled you out of your head when you got too lost in your own thoughts. His dumb jokes, his teasing comments, the way he’d pass you stupid doodles on ripped piece sitting of paper.

And now?

Now you had nothing but empty silence and the lingering ache in your chest.

After class, Wanda stuck by your side. Steve was waiting outside the hall, leaning against the railing, watching the crowd. When his eyes landed on you, he straightened immediately, something unreadable flickering across his face.

He looked guilty.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I was gonna text you, but I figured I’d just wait here. Thought maybe we could grab something to eat?”

You hesitated. A week ago, that offer wouldn’t have even required thought. But now? After the things he said?

You exhaled sharply through your nose, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Look, I know you’re upset.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Upset?” The word tasted wrong on your tongue. Upset didn’t begin to cover it.

Steve sighed, stepping closer. “I just wanna talk, alright? I didn’t mean for things to go the way they did.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of Steve, your best friend, how he had stood across from you and spewed hurtful words right in your face after defending you, he acted like your pain wasn’t real. Like it didn’t matter.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your backpack. “I don’t wanna talk. I just wanna be left alone.”

Steve huffed, frustrated now. “How am I supposed to apologize if you won’t even listen?”

You flinched, the sharpness in his voice cutting deeper than you expected. “Apologizing isn’t just about saying sorry, Steve.” Your voice wavered, but you held your ground. “It’s about meaning it. And you? You didn’t give a damn about how I felt when it actually mattered.”

Something in his expression faltered.

Wanda shifted beside you, arms crossed, her presence like a shield. She hadn’t spoken, but you knew she would step in if Steve pushed too hard.

Steve let out a long breath, looking away for a second like he was trying to find the right words. When he looked back, his blue eyes were softer. “I was just trying to stick up for you.”

Your throat burned. “Stick up for me?” You let out a humorless laugh. “After everything you said? Yeah, well, I guess that worked out great for you, huh?”

Steve winced. “That’s not fair.”

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. “None of this is fair, Steve. But I’m the one who has to live with it.”

His shoulders dropped slightly, but you didn’t wait for a response. You pushed past him, the weight of the conversation settling deep in your chest.

Wanda fell into step beside you, quiet for a few beats before finally saying, “I’d call that a well-earned fuck you.”

You huffed out a breath, not quite a laugh. “I could’ve said worse.”

“Yeah,” Wanda smirked. ���But I think you got the point across. So, the café? I could use a cup of something with an espresso shot.”

“Oh god, not the espresso shot,” you groaned, laughing despite yourself.

Wanda looped her arm through yours, dramatically clutching her chest. “Excuse me, I need caffeine to survive. One shot of espresso is the bare minimum. You, my dear, clearly lack appreciation for the finer things in life.”

You rolled your eyes, her warmth grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed. The conversation, the teasing..it almost felt normal. Almost.

Then you felt that sensation of being watched.

It slithered up your spine, settling heavy between your shoulder blades. Your laughter faded as instinct kicked in, your eyes scanning the crowd and then you saw him.

Bucky.

He was near the entrance of the dining hall, surrounded by his teammates, but he wasn’t engaged. Not even close. His body was there, but his attention, his entire focus was on you.

Your stomach twisted painfully.

He looked the same but different somehow. His hair was damp from practice, curling at the ends in a way that once would’ve made you smile. His hoodie was loose, but the tension in his shoulders was unmistakable and his face….his face was unreadable except for the weight behind his eyes.

Regret. Thick, suffocating, undeniable regret.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve. Maybe before, that look would’ve unraveled you. Maybe before, you would’ve been tempted to take even the smallest step toward him, to offer him some kind of solace.

But regret wasn’t enough. Not after everything, you couldn't let it be enough.

You forced yourself to tear your gaze away, to keep walking, even as the heaviness of his stare followed you, searing into your back like a brand.

Wanda didn’t say anything at first. She didn’t have to. She just squeezed your arm, her silent way of letting you know she saw it too.

After a few steps, she exhaled, shaking her head. “God, he looks miserable.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “Good.”

Wanda glanced at you, expression unreadable for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Good.”

But as you reached the café doors, pushing inside, the lingering burn of Bucky’s stare refused to fade.

---

By the time you made it back to your dorm, the weight of the day had settled deep into your bones.

The moment you shut the door behind you, the silence hit. Not just quiet, silence. The kind that felt alive, pressing in on all sides, wrapping around your throat like a vice.

You dropped your bag onto the floor, toeing off your shoes with little care. Wanda had gone out with some friends, promising she’d be back later, but you hadn’t wanted to go. You told her you were tired, that you just needed to breathe for a second.

You lied.

The truth was, you didn’t want to be around people. You didn’t want to pretend you were okay, or like today hadn’t drained every last ounce of energy out of you, even though today had probably been one of the easier days this week. 

You felt exhausted. Not the kind that sleep could fix, but the kind that settled in your soul and made you wonder if you’d ever really be able to shake it.

You sat down on your bed, staring blankly at the wall.

It was happening again.

That sinking, crushing feeling, like the ground beneath you was cracking, shifting, like soon there would be nothing left to stand on.

It wasn’t just about Bucky. It wasn’t just about Steve.

It was about everything.

You thought you had people. You thought you had friends. You thought, for once in your life, you weren’t completely alone.

And yet… here you were.

Alone in your room.

Alone with your thoughts.

Alone.

Your chest tightened, breath hitching as you curled in on yourself. You dug your fingers into your arms, trying to ground yourself, trying to pull yourself out of it, but it wasn’t working.

And now, on top of all that?  You have lost your best friend. Steve, who had always been in your corner, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get past the look on his face in the locker room hallway that night, like you had betrayed him. 

Maybe you had. Maybe you should have just pretended like nothing happened because even though he said hurtful things to you, he did defend you to Bucky right? Maybe you were selfish. Maybe you were the problem. Because this wasn’t new, was it?

You’d lost people before.

You lost her.

Your sister.

The thought alone made your stomach churn, shame curling around your ribs like barbed wire. It had been years, and yet, the grief still clung to you like a second skin. You could still hear her voice sometimes, still see the way she used to look at you, like you were someone worth protecting.

But she was gone and you were still here.

Still losing people.

Maybe that was just who you were. Maybe no matter how hard you tried, you weren’t meant to have people.

Maybe you were meant to be alone.

The thought sent a sharp, splintering ache through your chest, and before you could stop it, before you could even think to fight it, you broke.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just silent. A few shaky breaths, a few hot tears slipping down your face as you curled into yourself, pressing your forehead against your knees.

No one was here to see it anyway.

No one ever was.

---

The next day was like moving through concrete.

You barely slept, still burdened with the weight of last night that was weighing upon you like an object on your chest. You could not even count how many hours you stayed curled up there on your bed, rehashing every mistaken move, all your failures, each biting critique you'd gotten from you. When morning broke, your body felt leaden, eyes dry but aching from gazing at the ceiling for all those hours of mental thinking within your head.

Wanda was still out. She had most likely spent the night at a friend's, and you were kind of glad. You didn't know you could pretend to be okay, not on a day like this.

You stalled over dressing, not because you cared, but because you didn't. Every action was reflex, getting dressed, combing your hair, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Outside, campus was a cacophony. Too much.

The moment you stepped outside, you sensed it all over again. The staring. The muffled whispers of gossip. The not-so-veiled looks thrown in your direction before folks turned back to their friends with a chuckle as if your existence was another fleeting news item.

You sped up.

You weren't naive, you understood what they were talking about. Bucky. Steve. You. The whole bloody mess. It was such a car crash. Folks just couldn't resist stopping, looking, gawking.

By the time you got to your first class, your stomach was twisting up with anxiety. You wished you could just sit down, get caught up in the crowd, be incognito. But as soon as you walked into the lecture hall, your body tensed up.

Bucky was already there and he wasn't alone.

Tiffany.

She was leaning against his desk, twirling a curl of hair around her finger, her mouth pursed up in that fake, sugary smile. You knew that smile. You'd seen it a thousand times. 

And Bucky? He wasn't looking at her, not really, but he wasn't shooing her away, either. It shouldn't have stung. It shouldn't have. But it did.

Something hot and embarrassing twisted in your stomach, a knot rising up into your throat. Not because you wanted more with him than what he had given you. Not because you wished things could ever be so again.

But because it was just one more reminder that even though it had felt like everything was different, the rest of the world continued to go on as if none of that even happened.

As if you didn't even happen. You turned around and departed. You did not have anywhere to go. You simply walked. Through the courtyard, by the library, down the stairs that led nowhere in particular. You simply had to catch your breath.

The universe actually had it out for you today.

You were just trying to make it through the gory day. You'd swallowed the lump in your throat, concealed the lump in your chest, and kept moving, as if you didn't notice Bucky's stare still burning into your flesh. But Tiffany had plans.

She approached you on the library steps, that characteristic smirk twisting on her lips.

"Aww, fleeing again?" she cooed. "You really need to make this less easy."

You clenched your teeth, eyes fixed forward. You were not going to do this. Not today. But she wasn't done.

"Too bad about that photo, don't you think?" she said, mock sympathy dripping from her voice. "You were so pitiful. Practically like you didn't even realize someone was watching."

Your stomach roiled.

You had tried not to look at the picture when it first went around campus. But even if you had, you couldn't shake the sting of it. The naked embarrassment of being so exposed.

Tiffany edged closer, speaking in a lower tone like she was letting you in on some big secret.

"Strange thing is, I told Bucky precisely who took it." She tilted her head. "And you know what's so pathetic? He didn't even have the decency to inform you."

Your breath caught in your throat.

Tiffany's grin widened. "Guess he really doesn't care about you at all, huh? Probably just some fun little game, ‘sleep with Cap’s best friend’”.

Something in your chest split open.

You weren't sure what hurt you worse, that she'd taken the dumb picture to begin with, or that Bucky'd known. That he'd known and never even bothered to think of telling you about it.

Maybe that was the final proof you needed.

You didn't actually have anyone.

"Oh, look at the crybaby," Tiffany pouted mockingly. "Poor girl. Who are you gonna run to now? Stevie? Bucky?" She gave a hard, cruel laugh. "Oh, right, nobody wants you."

Your nails creased your palms. You weren't an angry person. You weren't. But God, you wanted to erase that smug expression from her face. Before you could even imagine what to say, the crack of impact split the air.

Tiffany yelped, retreating onto the ground.

Your eyes widened. In front of you, shaking out her fist, stood Natasha fucking Romanoff.

"Huh," Nat said, wiggling her fingers. "That kinda hurt."

You blinked, frozen. "Did you just—"

"Yeah." She didn't look even remotely sorry. She looked annoyed that Tiffany was still on the ground, blinking up at her in shock. "She talks too much."

Your lips opened, then shut. You were so stunned you couldn't even process it. Natasha turned to face you, eyes scanning your face, her voice softer now. "You okay?"

You hesitated. You weren't okay. Not even remotely.

Nat didn't even hesitate for an answer. She simply hooked her arm through yours and steered you off like she hadn't just punched a girl in the face.

"C'mon," she said. "Let's go."

She didn’t say much at first. Just walked you down the sidewalk, her grip steady and warm on your arm, guiding you away from the pulsing music and drunken noise of the party. It wasn’t until the street was quiet, the only sound of your breathing and the faint click of Natasha’s boots, that she finally spoke.

“I’m not gonna lie,” she muttered, glancing over at you, “been wanting to do that for a while.”

You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion. “I didn’t think you actually would.”

Natasha shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

That made your lips twitch. It wasn’t a smile, not really, but it was close. “I think I did.”

You walked in silence for a bit, your thoughts spinning. The cold air nipped at your cheeks, grounding you after everything that had just happened. Finally, you spoke.

“I feel stupid,” you admitted. “Letting it all get to me like that.”

Natasha gave you a look. “You were humiliated, lied to, abandoned. That’s not ‘getting to you,’ that’s being human.”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “I just thought I had people, you know? Bucky, Steve… and then it all just… blew up.”

She stopped walking, gently pulling you to a bench near the sidewalk. You both sat, the dim orange glow of the streetlights painting her face in warm light.

“They hurt you,” she said simply. “And I’m not gonna make excuses for them. What Bucky did, what he didn’t do and what Steve said? That shit sticks.”

You looked down at your hands, rubbing your palms together. “I still don’t know if I can forgive them. Even now.”

“You don’t have to forgive them,” she said quietly. “Not until you’re ready and not for their sake, for yours.”

You swallowed hard. “Steve was like my brother and Bucky… I don’t even know what he was. I thought we had something. Then it was gone before I could even understand what it was.”

Natasha’s expression softened. “What do you want now?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I want to feel like myself again. Like I can trust someone without waiting for the moment they decide I’m not worth it.”

She nodded, leaning back on the bench, eyes on the stars above. “You’ll get there. I see the way Bucky looks at you. It’s not just guilt. And Steve? He’s… Steve’s dealing with his own shit. Doesn’t mean he was right. Doesn’t mean you have to make space for him again if it still hurts.”

You rested your head on her shoulder, the warmth of her presence seeping into your bones.

“Thanks for punching her.”

Natasha smirked. “Anytime.”

---

Steve’s apartment was dark when Natasha knocked.

Not unusual. Lately, he hadn’t bothered turning on more than one lamp at a time. Just enough light to function. Everything else, the clutter, the half-eaten takeout boxes, the clothes draped over the back of a chair was left untouched. Natasha barely waited before letting herself in.

She found him on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head, knees bent, elbows resting on them like the weight of everything he was carrying might crush him if he didn’t hold himself together.

She tossed her keys onto the counter. “We need to talk.”

Steve didn’t even look up. “Is she okay?”

Natasha nodded. “Yeah she’s okay but...”

His jaw tensed. “What happened?”

Natasha crossed the room and leaned against the wall near the TV. “Tiffany ran her mouth. Again went after her. Said some things she should’ve never said. I handled it.”

Steve blinked slowly. “Handled it?”

Nat shrugged. “Put it this way, Tiffany won’t be smiling for a while.”

Steve gave a humorless huff of breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Good.”

A beat passed.

“She didn’t deserve that,” Steve said, voice low. “None of it.”

“No,” Natasha agreed. “She didn’t.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and honest.

“She’s not talking to me,” Steve finally said, barely above a whisper. “Not really. Not since… the rink. And I don’t blame her.”

Natasha’s expression softened. “Give it time. It’ll work out.”

“I know,” Steve said. “It’s just… hard.”

He leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face.

“We’ve been attached at the hip since we were kids. She’s more than my best friend. She’s my person. The one constant I’ve had through everything. When I lost my mom, when things were shit at school, when I got hurt… she was always there. And I was supposed to be that for her.”

“You still can be,” Natasha said gently. “But she’s hurt, Steve. You said some things—”

“I know,” he cut in, the guilt written all over his face. “I said the exact thing I swore I never would. I used her pain against her. That night, I just, I lost it. I was so angry. At Bucky, at myself… and I took it out on her. That’s on me.”

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, the shame etched into every word. “And she trusted me. She’s been through so much, Nat. With her sister, her dad, the photo… I promised her I’d never leave, never make her feel like she had no one. And that’s exactly what I did.”

Natasha crossed the room and sat down beside him. “You’re allowed to mess up, Steve. You’re human. What matters is what you do now.”

“I miss her,” he admitted, his voice cracking just a little. “I miss just… knowing she was okay. I miss her texts. Her dumb playlists. The way she always knew when something was wrong before I even did.”

Natasha leaned her head against the back of the couch. “You’ll get there. You two? You’ve got history. Real history. She just needs space right now. To heal, to trust again.”

Steve stared at the ceiling for a long moment before finally nodding. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Nat smirked faintly. “I usually am.”

He smiled for the first time in what felt like days. “Thanks for checking in. And for… you know. Handling Tiffany.”

“Anytime,” Natasha said, standing. “You focus on cleaning up your side of the mess. I think Bucky’s actually trying on his end.”

Steve’s smile faltered, but he nodded. “Good. That’s good. I just want her to be okay. Even if it’s not with me in the picture the way it used to be.”

Natasha paused at the door. “I think she wants you there. She’s just not ready yet.”

[avelera]

hi, I hope you don't mind me coming to kind of vent in your inbox (please toss this out if you do) but I was reading your post on the contrasting way Viktor and Jayce view their first meeting and it got me thinking about how some people just sorta brush aside Jayce's suicide attempt here as being somehow pathetic or an overreaction to what they consider a slap on the wrist and I kinda get really mad about that perspective because I don't think people really follow through on what the trial actually meant for Jayce and what the consequences reasonably could have been. people seem to think he was just embarrassed by the trial without understanding that that kind of reputational hit can be, and clearly was, ruinous.

setting aside entirely the emotional/psychological repercussions of having the thing he'd dedicated roughly 2/3's of his life to taken away, his very public trial ended with his own mother making an insanity plea on his behalf and his extremely wealthy and influential sponsor dropping him like he was radioactive and the actual ruling body of the city declaring him dangerously incompetent. do any of those people who deride him for the suicide attempt actually take the time to think about what that outcome means for him in a social and professional context? he jokes to Caitlyn about working in his family factory but honestly, it is entirely within the realm of possibility that the fallout of the trial has made him a social and professional pariah and his reputation is in such dire straits that he may be entirely unemployable within Piltover, perhaps even to the point of being toxic to his own family business if they take the reputation hit by association with him.

it's not actually hyperbole or an overreaction for him to stand in the wreckage of his life and think his life is over, to be at a complete loss as to how to move forward or come to the belief that moving forward is impossible and despair, especially if he doesn't have a support network which he pretty clearly doesn't. his only connections appear to be his mother and Caitlyn and, for obvious reasons, they're not viable at this time.

he was drowning and Viktor threw him a lifeline and he spends the literal rest of the story trying to return the favor.

Sorry for the delay in responding, there's a lot here I want to address.

First of all, I absolutely agree. I think people underestimate just how much that trial left his life in wreckage. That said, there's a few points I'd like to add some nuance to from my perspective, along the lines of YEAH THIS WAS REALLY BAD and people underestimate how much Viktor did for Jayce with his vote of confidence.

(This is gonna be a long post y'all but I have a LOT of thoughts and feelings about Jayce here so buckle up if you do proceed.)

1 ) The Kirammans dropping him as his patrons is absolutely devastating. It's actually the moment I think I hated Cassandra Kiramman for the most, which was turning Jayce away from her door at his lowest point, and cutting him off from Caitlyn, who seems to be his only friend before Viktor. I think it also demonstrates just how severe the crime was that she did so, by the way, I don't think she was just being cruel for the sake of it. But the fact that in 1.04 she's then showing off Jayce as an accomplishment of her house is particularly infuriating as a result. It's also no exaggeration to say that the Kiramman rejection was the final straw for him. After that, he decided to take his own life, so Cassandra would have been, in my opinion, directly responsible for his death (ironically saving her own life down the line, but then Arcane S1 is a series of hinging butterfly effect moments) if not for Viktor.

2 ) One layer of nuance I wanted to add to the Kiramman rejection in particular that you mentioned is the idea of him working at the Talis hammer factory because I think about this a LOT.

I do want to push back a little on the idea that he wouldn't be able to make a living for himself at the Talis hammer factory. To me (as someone whose family has a family business, though I don't work for it), it was never in doubt Jayce would have been able to work there the rest of his life. It might have been the only place he could get a job in Piltover, in fact, at least one with any sort of prestige or intellectual pursuit attached (basically, with anyone attached or graduated from the Academy).

However, I think Jayce would have had to work in a non-scientific part of the factory, either out on the floor or in the back office. And this is what I've been wanting to address in meta for a while now.

Caitlyn asks him what he's going to do next and Jayce says, "Work for the Talis hammer factory, I guess?" and she exclaims, "You can't do that!"

I think the nuance missing from your point that I'd like to add my view of that scene to is that Caitlyn is essentially saying, "That would kill you."

I get the very strong impression that Caitlyn and Jayce bonded over being members of their family who wanted bigger things than what their parents wanted for them. It's basically there on the page in this exchange.

We explore directly that Caitlyn wants to be a detective instead of working in politics like her mother, and pursues her dream despite adversity and her mother's disapproval.

But I think from this exchange and the one Jayce also has with his mother Ximena, we can glean that the Talis's also wanted Jayce to work for the factory, the family business, instead of going to the Academy to pursue his dream of magic.

(Also as a person whose family has a family business, that I don't work for, that has their own career and faced a lot of consternation from my family in my desire to be a writer, I feel this one very keenly.)

Jayce to me reads as someone who had to fight his family all his life to avoid going into the family business, in his pursuit of something greater.

With the Hextech dream taken away, all that's left to him is his family business, the thing I'd argue we have evidence that he's been fighting to avoid his whole life. It doesn't inspire him. It's not what he wants.

Joining the Talis factory would kill him. And that's what Caitlyn points out, and that's when he realizes she's right and goes to finish the job by his own hand instead. Further evidence I would say that working for his family business would represent a death of the soul to him, such that a physical death is preferable. But since his family built the business, and his mother clearly has reservations about his pursuit of magic, I think we can safely say he's been feeling similar pressures to Caitlyn to conform and join the business instead.

3 ) Now to go back to Viktor, I think this is another reason that Viktor literally and spiritually saved Jayce's life. Jayce outright says to his mother that if his own family won't believe in him, he'll find someone who will. Whether you read Viktor/Jayce as platonic or romantic (spouses are family, after all, which is how I read it), Viktor is Jayce's family from that point forward.

But Viktor doesn't bring Jayce back from the brink just by believing in him at his lowest moment (which is so powerful it can't be underestimated, btw) he also gives Jayce a bit of tough love too just when Jayce needs it.

Like many children of privilege (I'd firmly put Mel in this category, since she too is "trapped in the family business" I'd argue), Jayce saw himself at rock bottom after he lost his patron, the benefits of his House name, his family's support, his research, his equipment, access to his one friend, his access to the Academy, and his reputation.

Viktor points out that he never had any of those things growing up.

I think this is a welcome slap in the face for Jayce. Viktor rose to be the Dean's assistant on ability alone, without any of the scaffolding of privilege, and it humbles Jayce just when he needs it. Viktor is telling him that Jayce already has everything he needs to succeed and that others like Viktor have gotten further with less.

So not only does Viktor give his vote of confidence, he materially shows Jayce there is a way to achieving his dreams without all of the things he just lost.

Not only that, he's won the respect and assistance of someone who has done it before, someone who admires him for what he's done, someone who will help him make this dream a reality when no one else would.

Of course Jayce dedicated his life to Viktor after that. Of course he saw Hextech as their shared dream after that. I'd argue that of course he saw his life as belonging to Viktor after that point, because Viktor saved it.

[bullet-prooflove]

For Carmy Berzatto

Injury + Cheerful + Community?

Tagging: @wabi-sabi1090 @kmc1989 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219 @morgthemagpie

Companion piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Good People - Richie and Carmy discuss a potential relationship with you.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Something Important - Carmy knows the two of you have something important together.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Doing Something - Carmy owns up to something he's been doing without telling you.

When Carmy hears about the accident at the farm, his heart stops. He’s in the middle of dinner service, surveying the plates for Table Seven when Sugar rushes in with that tone in her voice, the same one she had when he told him Mikey died. His world falls apart in that moment and he reverts back to his old patterns.

He doubles down on the work, firing off orders, getting plates out that door, because it’s the only thing that makes sense to him, the only thing that stops the terror from suffocating him.

When Sugar tries to pull him away, to get him to go see you at the hospital he brushes her off. This is where he needs to be right now, making sure everything flows just the way it needs to.

It’s then she gets Richie. Richie who knows just how hard it is to love again after you’ve been torn apart, how frightening it can be, how overwhelming. Carmen tries to block him out, to focus on his tasks but Cuz he’s persistent, he always has been, it’s the reason Carmen both loves and hates him.

It gets into a fight, shouting at first and then physical. Carmen shoving at Richie because he just wants him to fuck off and Richie, grasping Carmen to him, holding him because this violence right now, it comes from fear. The fear of losing the person you love, the fear of being shattered all over again.

“If you don’t to this.” Richie tells him, his grip on the back of Carmen’s neck tightening as the other man tries to fight him. “If you’re not there for her when she needs you, you’re going to destroy that thing that you love and you will hate yourself for it, you will regret it every damn day of your life.”

All of that aggression, it drains from him then and he finds himself clinging to Richie, his fists bunching the fabric of his suit jacket as his body begins to tremble.

“I’m scared.” He whispers unable to force the rest of the words out. “I can’t…”

He can’t lose anyone else. He simply won’t survive it.

“I know.” Richie murmurs. “But she’s scared too and sometimes it’s a little easier when you’re scared together.”

He’s still a wreck when he turns up at the hospital. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket so the nurse he speaks to can’t see them shaking. She’s alarmingly cheerful as she dictates your condition.

A broken arm, a concussion, a couple of fractured ribs.

They’re keeping you in overnight for observation.

When he’s escorted to your room, the relief he feels is palpable because you may be a little battered, a little bruised but you’re still here, still with him and in that moment that’s all that matters.

You’re sleeping when he approaches the bed, your face tilted towards him, your hair falling across your features. He uses his fingertips to tuck an errand strand back behind your ear and you start to stir under his touch.

“Hey.” He says softly, his thumb tracing gently over the apple of your cheek.

“Hey.” You whisper back, your lips brushing over the palm of his hand. “You came.”

“Yea.” He says, his voice breaking as his eyes meet yours. “I’m really fucking glad I did.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[findher-ogg]

I think Piper Wright Fallout 4 is one of those characters who's good in theory but not in practice. I was thinking about her as a character in relation to her setting and I genuinely think her archetype would be better suited to the NCR than it is to the Commonwealth.

Which I think comes down to how Bethesda handles their games, environment and attitude wise, as opposed to Black Isle and Obsidian. The West coast has basically recovered. New Vegas is a tourist attraction. The NCR are on a rapid tirade of imperialist expansion that's only achievable because they, as a nation, have recovered from the war and grown from it. If you compare Shady Sands in Fallout 1 to Diamond City in Fallout 4, its kind of funny. Shady Sands started out with decent houses made from dirt, with solid foundation and some of them having actual windows. The average settlement in Bethesda Fallout (like Diamond City or Megaton), meanwhile, are just shanty towns made from tin.

In the Commonwealth's case this is made even more insane by the fact that Fenway Park (where Diamond City is located) is surrounded by mostly intact houses that, with a bit of fixer-uppering, could be lived in relatively normally compared to the tin shacks of Diamond City. I think Megaton gets more of a pass because the Capital Wasteland got nuked to shit, but you get me.

Returning to Piper for a second, let's take a look at her character: she's a spunky, somewhat annoying character who's very invested in the freedom of the press and so forth. She's got a working printing press and everything, which is super impressive considering how run-down the rest of Diamond City is aside from the Valentine Detective Agency signs (seriously, where did they find the materials for those). She runs Publick Occurences solo with her sister, and it's all well and good. Ignoring the witch hunts she sends people on about synths.

And I get it. I think this specific gripe with Piper as a character comes from having played this game for the first time in 2024. The synths don't really hold up as an allegory for anything, and the entire story surrounding them is very "trying to be progressive in 2014". Which is fine, I think it is just a symptom of the era the game came out in, but still.

Piper's character, as a spunky yet annoying journalist who believes the people deserve to know what's going on, would be far better suited in a more developed location on the West coast -- specifically, Freeside or somewhere within the NCR.

I think Piper would suit the Followers of the Apocalypse, for example, serving as an informant to keep them in the know about what's going on between the Strip, the NCR and the regular Freesiders. Plus, having a funny, anarchist-themed newspaper you can receive in-game where she touts her hatred for the Securitron police force is a funny mental image. Equally, I think she'd suit living in Shady Sands -- right at the heart of the NCR's seediest political manouvres as the decisions are made. Imagine her as a journalist who frequently pushes back against the Mojave expansion, for example, and how the NCR is putting too many resources into a lost cause instead of more important things like healthcare or housing. That way, you could still keep her extreme hatred for the upper class in The Stands while making it make more sense within the setting.

Leading on from this, this made me realise how Bethesda also just aren't very deliberate with how they utilise history in their games. Which makes sense, to a certain extent, given how destroyed absolutely everything on the East coast is. But still. It's a little stupid.

The core conflict of New Vegas -- the Legion vs the NCR -- is actually a really deep-cut history reference at its core. The NCR is the Bear, the Legion is the Bull. In mid-19th century California, people watched bears and bulls fight for fun.

There are other, better examples, I'm sure. But I'm British and this is my personal favourite example, so this is what I'm using. History plays such an important part of New Vegas' themes and messaging -- it's a story about how, when, and why humanity needs to move on from the past and look towards the future.

Bethesda Fallout, by comparison, will frequently and shallowly tout "nukes bad" while letting Liberty Prime lob them at Super Mutants, or encouraging players to nuke each other's houses in Fallout 76.

Piper exists partially as a nod to the Boston Herald, and how it's one of the longest-running/most influential newspapers in America. A lot of publishing has its roots within Boston, and I think it's an interesting reference to take.

And I think this is a part of Fallout that Bethesda does get -- a lot of what people do in the post-war world is inspired by what came before. Caesar's Legion and its ideologies come from Edward Sallow not understanding basic Roman history properly and using it to fuel his agenda because it looks cool. The Minutemen are exactly that. The New California Republic are the new US government, right down to the borderline facist intentions and ideologies. I could go on.

And this comes from Fallout being a series about the cyclical nature of violence. "War never changes, but men do through the roads they walk" is the story here. War cannot change if men do not change, because war exists in an endless cycle of violence that can only be broken if man chooses to break it. And they've failed at it so far, right?

And this is where I go back to Piper. Her nod to history isn't as intentional as anything in New Vegas, and I feel like she would have been better served as a character if she was in New Vegas instead. Because her entire character would make more sense if she was living in the more developed and rebuilt towns of the West coast as opposed to a dilapidated shanty town on the East.

I have more thoughts about this but tl;dr Bethesda should really put more effort into making sure their history references and homages make sense to the setting contextually, in the same way that New Vegas does. That game was developed in 18 months and still has far more care put into its historical references than Fallout 4 does. And I love Fallout 4.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 35.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

-

A/n: did y'all like that last little part of the previous chapter? heheheh it's beginning. this is a very short and sweet chapter for some comedic relief from the heaviness of the last few chapters, but still contains a bit of important development. <3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

-

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

-

Author: ScariusAquarius

-

rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 34

When the Avengers returned to Wakanda again, everyone was in a state of bittersweet triumph. The case had been won, the world was aware, and now it was a battle of public scrutiny.

Tony and Steve were walking side by side, both of them quiet and shoulders tensed. Neither of them had said a single word since embarking on the journey back to Wakanda, too angry and distraught by the trial to formulate proper thought.

Clint had managed to calm Wanda down, but due to the amount of people that had been thinking so strongly in the room, Wanda had become nauseous and had gotten a massive migraine. Maria had stayed behind in the US to deal with anymore legal fallout, and Natasha had been stone-faced the whole way; playing with a knife as she spaced out.

Shuri had been the only one out of the group to keep her head held high, ready and determined to begin rooting out the rest of HYDRA. When the aircraft had landed back in Wakanda, Shuri and the Avengers wasted no time in getting to Shuri's lab to begin planning.

However, as the group made it into Shuri's lab, they were surprised to see Sam and Bucky both sitting with (Y/n) as they watched a TV show.

Steve didn't know what it was, his eyes squinting, but Natasha smirked as she recognized the show. Currently, Bucky and Sam seemed to be in a semi-heated debate, Bucky gesturing to the TV with a large frown.

"Oh, come on! Salt rounds wouldn't work like that."

Bucky shook his head, adding with a frown as he watched Dean Winchester blow a door straight off of the hinges with his sawed-off shotgun.

"He would have dislocated his shoulder unless he was enhanced."

Sam gave Bucky an exasperated look, gesturing to the screen as well.

"Dude, it's fiction. You're not supposed to be critiquing and fact-checking the demon hunters."

Bucky pressed more, looking as though he was genuinely stressed out.

"Listen, you go clearing a room like that, and you're asking for trouble."

(Y/n), who had been sitting quietly and observing with a curious and calculating look, said quietly with a serious tone to her voice.

"No perimeter established. Tactics are flawed. The target could have slipped out through the window. It was open the whole time."

Sam gave (Y/n) a raised eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, you're gonna critique a fictional show too?"

(Y/n) gave Sam a serious look, tilting her head a bit as Bucky smirked triumphantly at Sam from over her shoulder.

"It was sloppy. With no perimeter established and poor tactic execution, there will never be success in the mission. They must do better."

Sam grumbled to himself, and Natasha smirked at Steve as the man gave the woman a look of surprise.

"Looks like she's learning how to relax one Winchester takedown at a time."

Steve's lips twitched slightly, the amusement steady but half-hearted. He watched as Natasha plopped down beside (Y/n), asking her as Natasha glanced at the screen.

"What are you nerds watching, (Y/n)?"

(Y/n) glanced at Bucky and Sam for a moment, almost unsure, before looking back at Natasha with a shy look on her face.

"it is Supernatural...about two brothers that hunt monsters and...save people. It is sloppy."

Natasha smirked widely, amused by the seriousness in (Y/n)'s voice, and Steve sat down next to Bucky, who looked at the man with a silent but knowing look. Steve didn't have to say anything, Bucky nodding to him quietly.

I've got you back.

I know you do.

Tony groaned as he let his head fall back and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? This is what you settled on? Have a little dignity, would you?"

Shuri just sighed, shaking her head as she quietly watched from the back. From just the small amount of time that the team had been gone, it seemed that Bucky and Sam had been able to jump forward in progress with (Y/n). While the woman still seemed to be shy, it was apparent that she was slowly opening up.

While using a show wasn't the most conventual way to make (Y/n) comfortable, Shuri had to admit that the fact (Y/n) was adding critique so freely was a good sign. Quietly, as the show continued and the group kept watching, Shuri began to work in her corner of the lab.

Sam began to try to explain the plot of Supernatural to Tony, but Tony didn't seem to be interested; already set with his opinion that the show was horrible. Natasha and (Y/n) stayed quiet as they continued to watch, and Steve raised his brow at the show with a skeptic look on his face.

"So...a TV show, huh?"

Bucky stated with a half-hearted annoyed look on his face.

"It wasn't my idea. Sam thought it'd be good to introduce (Y/n) to the latest pop culture, and she seems to enjoying it."

Steve joked quietly although the exhaustion and distraught demeanor was apparent.

"More like critiquing."

"She's making good points."

Bucky shrugged, and then the man became quiet again. Quietly, he spoke to Steve, saying as Sam began to bicker with Tony in the background much louder.

"Dr. Raynor called. Said she saw the whole trial and she wants to pick up (Y/n)'s case. She's gonna get in touch with you and Tony soon."

Steve looked surprised before he turned back to the screen and watched with a wince as the scene became a bit grotesque from the gore.

"I imagine that you're not very happy about it."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, glancing over at (Y/n) subtly, and he was almost surprised to see (Y/n) eyeing him quietly as well. Her gaze, however, was simply neutral; just listening before becoming distracted by Natasha beginning to critique and ask (Y/n) her opinions on the combat techniques. Bucky glanced at Steve, murmuring quietly.

"As much as I hate the idea of Raynor trying to help, she did make some pretty good points. Unless (Y/n) is receiving professional help with her rehabilitation, she'll have a harder time adapting to society when the time comes."

Steve nodded thoughtfully before he said comfortingly.

"I know Dr. Raynor is abrasive, but I think this is going to be good for (Y/n) in the long run."

Bucky stayed quiet, mulling over Steve's words before Steve added with another grimace as he continued watching the show as the over-the-top action sequence continued.

"You know, I might have to agree with Tony on this one."

Suddenly, (Y/n) spoke up again, the group regarding her with serious looks as they actively listened, (Y/n)'s eyes firmly on the screen as she pursed her lips into a small line.

"The tall one-he should have double-checked his exits. There's too much backlighting. He would have been shot before he made it to the stairs."

Tony exclaimed, gesturing to the screen as he agreed.

"See, she gets it. The shows a joke. You don't just walk into a haunted house like it's an everyday trip to Costco."

Sam gave Tony an amused look, leaning back in his seat.

"You say that as if you've been to haunted houses and a Costco."

Tony deadpanned slightly, giving Sam a look.

"I've been to both. One is full of ghosts, and the other is a haunted house."

Natasha snorted while Bucky and Steve gave Tony a confused look, and Sam just shook his head. (Y/n) looked unsure of what to do before glancing at Bucky as he spoke.

"She's not wrong. I'd take her over Dean Winchester in a fight any day."

(Y/n) then frowned, speaking as seriously as she could.

"That is not a fair comparison. He makes too much noise."

Steve couldn't help but to laugh gently, and Tony raised his hands in mock-surrender.

"I rest my case."

As the show continued on and the group continued to bicker and critique among each other, Steve took a moment to observe (Y/n). it was the first time he had actually sat together with her, despite the setting being in a group, but it was the first time he had an opportunity to interact with her; to really see her.

She was completely different than when Steve had first encountered her.

There was no more hostility and danger that stayed attached to her like a weapon in the earlier days of her recovery. No emptiness, no calculating looks, no cold precision that exuded from the soldier. Instead, Steve began to see a woman that was starting to become free from the weight of HYDRA one dry critique at a time.

She was sitting stiffly, her hands in her lap and shoulders small as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to take up the space that she was in, but Steve watched as (Y/n)'s eyes darted around. She was listening, observing, learning, and living within the moment.

It made Steve feel happy despite the images that were still haunting his mind. Instead, a new image began to form: a woman who was slowly reclaiming her humanity; learning to be more than what HYDRA, Rollins, and Holloway had made her.

Steve was proud. He was proud of (Y/n), but he was also proud of the group attempting to give (Y/n) a sense of what human normalcy was. Steve glanced away from (Y/n) when Bucky nudged him softly, his face looking forlorn as he murmured.

"I also found some things out too...about Rebecca."

Steve was surprised, not having expected Bucky to mention his little sister, and he asked.

"What did you find out?"

Bucky's lips turned up slightly into a sad smile, glancing at Steve.

"I found out she had kids...a son and a daughter...and she named her son after me."

Steve was floored, the surprise evident on his face, and he asked.

"How did you find this out?"

Bucky swallowed thickly and explained quietly.

"I found (Y/n)'s Aunt Mavis...the woman that took (Y/n) to Shelbyville for the summers. Mavis and Rebecca knew each other, and then (Y/n) met Rebecca through Mavis. Mavis told me everything."

Steve was quiet, his eyes staring into Bucky's as the weight of his words settled over the man, and Steve finally asked him.

"Have you met them?"

Bucky let out a humorless chuckle.

"How could I? I doubt they would even know or remember anything about me. It'd be for the best to let them keep living their lives."

"Buck, you don't have to shut them out like that. I'm sure they'd love to get to know their uncle."

Bucky shook his head, his lips pressing into a line as he became apprehensive.

"I doubt they would want to know their uncle that used to be an assassin and killed hundreds of people."

Steve gave Bucky a firm look, but before Steve could reply, Tony exclaimed as he gestured to the show with a teasing tone to his voice.

"Hey, Cap, that guy kind of looks like you."

Steve spun his head around, the sudden callout immediately stealing his attention, and his eyes went onto the screen. There was a new character on the screen that he hadn't seen yet, black hair and blue eyes and a long trench coat on his shoulders. Steve frowned heavily in confusion, but before he could ask for elaboration, Tony stated.

"Emotionally constipated, confused, horrible sense of fashion. They've got you down to a T."

Steve looked taken back, an offended look coming upon his face.

"Horrible sense of fashion? I dress nicely."

Before Tony could retort, Sam pointed out with a playful but accusatory look on his face.

"I thought you hated the damn show. Why the hell are you still watching?"

Tony waved Sam off, shaking his head.

"It's helping me to debate on if I need to buy the studio to give them a few pointers and help them with that horrible writing."

Natasha chuckled, and (Y/n) suddenly glanced over at her, murmuring.

"Can we have another bath today?"

Natasha immediately nodded, giving (Y/n) a soft expression.

"After the day I've had? I think a bath and some wine sounds fantastic."

At the subtle mention of the court trial, (Y/n) became quiet, everyone within the room immediately noticing. (Y/n) looked down at her lap, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, and she murmured soft enough that it was almost a whisper.

"Thank you...for...fighting for me."

Her eyes flicked back up to the screen, her shyness slowly melting away again as (Y/n) began to watch the show again. Natasha was gently smiling at the woman, simply observing her, and Steve looked surprised by the shy thanks.

Tony's expression became observant as he watched the woman with a gentle look within his eyes. Bucky and Sam shared a look, but it was Tony who broke the silence and made (Y/n) look at him.

"We're the Avengers, kid, it's kind of what we do."

(Y/n) didn't say anything at first, only staring Tony down with a quiet look of content before she nodded once, and her eyes went back to the screen. Bucky glanced at Tony, who looked right back at him, and for once, Bucky felt a new sense of understanding build between them both.

Suddenly, Steve's phone rang, and Bucky immediately knew exactly who it was without having to look at the caller ID or inquire. Steve simply glanced at Bucky with a quiet nod before he stood, and Natasha sighed, stretching her legs.

"Alright, that's enough horrible writing for one night. Let's go take that bath, (Y/n). Maybe we can have Wanda join. I think she's gonna need a girl's night just as bad as we do."

(Y/n) nodded, slowly standing up, and her feet were silent as she padded across the room after Natasha. Steve left to a quieter part of the lab, and Sam, Bucky, and Tony were left to sit together.

The silence was comfortable but heavy, the show slowly being forgotten, and Shuri stepped forward finally, the men turning to look at her as she stood before them. Shuri ran a hand through her braids, sighing slightly.

"I have done some research into the locations that Rollins gave us during Mr. Rogers' interrogation. It seems the task of rooting out HYDRA will be much more difficult than we anticipated. Most of these locations are very high-profile places with many high-profile individuals. Taking these people down will only incite more legal ramifications...and will be a very long and difficult process."

Sam asked, crossing his arms as he sat back in his seat, immediately slipping back into business as he looked at the woman.

"How bad are we talking?"

Shuri sat down where (Y/n) and Natasha had been sitting, her frown deep as she spoke.

"We are no longer talking about abandoned HYDRA facilities or labs. We're talking about people in power and with intricate reach: CEO's, Senators, World Leaders, the list goes on. If we are not careful and do not strategize this to the very letter, we risk starting a war that we cannot control."

Bucky frowned, clenching his jaw slightly before he glanced down at the floor, and Tony sighed before asking Shuri.

"Alright, then what do you want to do?"

Shuri clasped her hands together, pursing her lips.

"With something so complex as this, I believe the best course of action is to enlist the help of Nicholas Fury. With Fury's extensive knowledge, background, and connections, we might be able to move much more quietly within the shadows."

Shuri paused before looking at the men within the room.

"Instead of HYDRA hiding among us...we must hide among them."

-

STORY NOTES: The scene opens to the Avengers returning to Wakanda after the court case, sullen despite the triumph over the case. When they go to Shuri's lab to discuss their next steps in taking down the rest of HYDRA, they are surprised to see Sam, Bucky and (Y/n) watching Supernatural. Sam and Bucky are bickering with each other about the action elements in the show, and (Y/n) begins to critique the show as well. At the revelation of (Y/n)'s relaxation and settling, Natasha points out the observation before engaging with (Y/n) about the show.

Steve sits to begin watching the show with them as well, and Tony makes his appearance to jab about the show. On the other side of the lab, Shuri quietly begins to research into the locations that Rollins had provided during his interrogation. Steve inquires about the show with Bucky, and Bucky explains that it was Sam's idea to put on and observes that (Y/n) seemed to be enjoying it despite her dry critiques. Bucky then tells Steve about his phone call with Dr. Raynor, and Steve says that Bucky must not be very happy about it. Bucky disagrees, telling Steve that (Y/n) will have a harder time adapting to society without professional help. Steve offers his input, stating that it would be good for her in the long run.

The moment is broken by (Y/n) critiquing the show again, and Tony agrees, making a joke about the show. The rest of the group chimes in and begins to bicker playfully with each other, Steve takes the time to observe (Y/n). He recalls how hostile (Y/n) had been during his first interaction with her when she was still under HYDRA's control and how different she is compared to now. He mulls over her a little bit more before thinking of how proud he is of the woman for trying, and his thoughts are broken by Bucky revealing the bombshell about his sister.

Bucky then goes on to tell Steve how he found the information out, telling Steve about (Y/n)'s Aunt Mavis, and Steve asks if Bucky has gone to meet his niece and nephew. Bucky tells him no, and remarks that he doubted they would want to meet him due to his past as the Winter Soldier. Before Steve can retort, Tony makes a jab about Steve being like Castiel, and the group begins to bicker again. The bickering is stopped by (Y/n) asking Natasha if they could take a bath later, and Natasha agrees. When Natasha makes a subtle comment about the court trial, (Y/n) becomes quiet before thanking the group for fighting for her. Tony responds by simple stating that they were the Avengers, and 'that's what we do'. At the sound of Steve's phone ringing, Natasha takes that as a cue to exit with (Y/n), and Sam, Bucky, and Tony are left alone together.

Shuri then approaches the three men, informing them of her research into the HYDRA facilities, and reveals that the locations and research indicate that the circumstances have become more complex due to the remainder of HYDRA being high-profile individuals. When Tony asks Shuri what her desire to do is, Shuri suggests calling Nicholas Fury for help due to his connections, background, and extensive knowledge of espionage. She suggests to turn the tides: Instead of HYDRA hiding within them, they were going to hide within HYDRA. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @softpia @thebl00dwyrm @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos

[blackmoonowl]

can you do a sfw alphabet for the synth detective please? 😼🙏

SFW Alphabet - Nick Valentine

Fallout 4 x reader

𝐀 = 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

‪‪❤︎‬ Nick Valentine prefers to keep things classy when it comes to affection. He's not all over you, but he enjoys having at least some form of contact with you. The synth likes showing you off, his beautiful partner.

‪‪❤︎‬ Usually it's a hand on your lower back, holding your hand or linking arms together. Sometimes he'll press his cold synthetic lips against your temple for good measure, if you'll allow it.

𝐁 = 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

‪‪❤︎‬ You're not just his best friend, you're a fellow detective now. He loves having you with him whilst he investigates. The two of you have each others back. It makes the miserable wasteland and circumstances a little better.

‪‪❤︎‬ It likely starts shortly after you saved him from vault 114. He's interested as to why someone would come to save a old robot detective. Nick quickly becomes invested in your story, in who you are. After that it happens quick, you become someone to rely on, someone to help him bring justice to the Commonwealth.

𝐂 = 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

‪‪❤︎‬ Not an absolute need for him, if you don't want to cuddle then that's okay for him too. He doesn't really feel anything, but he'd still enjoy cuddling you, purely due to the knowledge you're comfortable and close with him.

‪‪❤︎‬ Valentine prefers laying on his back with you beside hm, your arm across his torso. He can hold you close whilst reading or doing something else whilst you rest.

𝐃 = 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

‪‪❤︎‬ Nick Valentine would love to settle down with you in Diamond city, as close as a pre war life as he can get. You both have a job and a cozy little home to return to. It's perfect in a way rarely found in the wasteland.

‪‪❤︎‬ He can cook okay. He doesn't eat, so he usually doesn't bother, but you wouldn't die eating his cooking. Decent at cleaning as well, he keeps his space tidy and always organizes his things so he knows where to find them.

𝐄 = 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠  (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

❤︎ Nick would put it bluntly, but wouldn't be rude. He's disappointed things didn't work out, but he'd like to avoid drama as much as possible. Maybe the two of you could still be friends, but this clearly doesn't work.

❤︎ Handles the break up okay. He doesn't like it, he's not happy, but he can live with it. Nick doesn't have any ill will towards you, but he does feel let down. He also prefers some distance for the time being.

𝐅 = 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞(𝐞) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

❤︎ Nick would like to have a committed relationship. He's old fashioned like that, marriage is definitely his end goal. After all, the two of you can just have a small ceremony in Diamond city and go home married.

❤︎ Doesn't rush into it, takes his time. It also depends on how quickly you want to get married. He'd like to at least wait a couple months before he pops the question, but he takes your wishes into consideration as well. If it were up to him, he'll get on one knee during your one year anniversary,

𝐆 = 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

❤︎ Physically gentle. Nick really doesn't want to cause you any pain or discomfort, and the last thing he needs is more damage done to his body. He prefers always being gentle when it comes to touch.

❤︎ Emotionally he sometimes likes to mess around a bit with sarcastic comments. He knows your boundaries and won't cross them, but that won't stop a smartass comment slipping out every now and then.

𝐇 = 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬 (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

❤︎ Nick Valentine likes hug a decent amount, he's not the worlds biggest fan of them, but in moderation he appreciates them. Once again he doesn't feel anything, but he still enjoys holding you close to him.

❤︎ One of his arms goes around your back, planting the hand on your lower back, the other hand cradles the back of your head as he holds you close to him.

𝐈 = 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (How fast do they say the L-word?)

❤︎ Not immediately. Nick really wants to mean it when he says it. The first time it comes out of him is during a love filled confession, your hand in his. When the time is right and he's certain on how he feels towards you.

❤︎ After that he says it in passing moments. When he kisses your temple before he leaves on a case, when he comes back after solving one. The moment doesn't really matter to him as much as assuring you that you're the one for him.

𝐉 = 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

❤︎ Nick isn't that jealous. He gets annoyed when people hit on you, but it's not really because he feels threatened. If you love him, you'll shut it down. If you don't, he knows he's not your priority. Last thing he wants is to come off as overbearing.

❤︎ When he does get jealous, he'll step in with a cynical remark to whoever irritated him, linking his arm with yours. Or he'll make sure to subtly emphasize the fact he's your partner.

𝐊 = 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

❤︎ Nick Valentine has a preference to kiss you on the temple or cheek. It's something he does whilst he walks past you, busy with one thing or another.

❤︎ As for where he likes to be kissed, he likes you kissing him on the lips. Soft, quick pecks are a quick way to put a smile on the old synths face,

𝐋 = 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 (How are they around children?)

❤︎ He's fond of children. He can't bring himself to dislike the little rascals. You can easily leave him alone with any kids and he'll take on a responsible role. As long as they're not scared of the way he looks, he can easily keep them in line.

❤︎ The detective is a robot and can't have any kids of his own, but he would be a pretty good stepdad, if not slightly strict. He's someone your kid can rely on no matter what.

𝐌 = 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (How are mornings spent with them?)

❤︎ Valentine is usually the one waking you up in the morning. Since he doesn't sleep, he's usually the one getting things ready while you sleep in. It's not uncommon for him to have breakfast ready for you when you get up.

❤︎ He usually gives you some time to wake up before he starts talking about any possible work the two of you need to get done today. The synth understands you need more time to be fully there.

𝐍 = 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (How are nights spent with them?)

❤︎ Nick joins you in your nightly routine despite not needing to. He'll sit with you during dinner, lean on the wall talking to you as you wash yourself and brush your teeth. He likes seeing you do mundane things, it never gets old for him.

❤︎ Usually the two of you spend some time alone, either in your bed or sitting on an old couch. Sometimes it's you playing on your pipboy while he works on his cases, or you simply talk to each other until you drift off.

𝐎 = 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

❤︎ Nick doesn't open up to you immediately. He doesn't see why he should drop his entire life story on some random vault dweller he's helping. Your plate is full, he doesn't need to add to it with his own problems.

❤︎ But when he sees how willing you are to help him out, he'll ask for your help. He needs peace of mind, he needs Eddie Winters gone before he can move on. The moment you agree to help,

𝐏 = 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (How easily angered are they?)

❤︎ Nick is decently patient. He doesn't just flip out and let his anger get the best of him. Although he'll let you know when he's upset, he tries to put it calmly the first time around.

❤︎ If he's really pissed, expect far more cynical and sarcastic comments from him. Best to let him cool off and then talk about what happened like adults.

𝐐 = 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬 (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

❤︎ Nick is a bit forgetful, but he is pretty perceptive to what you say. I mean he's a detective, so he naturally picks up on the small things. He'll make sure to remember every important thing you tell him.

❤︎ Sometimes he writes it down, his desk has a small stack of notes with your favorite foods, drinks, your favorite spot to go in the Commonwealth and things you said you still needed.

𝐑 = 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

❤︎ Nick could honestly call all your outings his favorites and not be lying. He loves spending time with you no matter the circumstance.

❤︎ But if he really had to pick one, he'll pick a date the two of you went on in Diamond city. It wasn't anything big, you just headed to the Dugout inn so you could get a few drinks and enjoy the atmosphere. Seeing you so relaxed and having fun is his all time favorite.

𝐒 = 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

❤︎ Nick knows you can hold your own, and he's not overbearing by any means. He'd still keep an eye out for your own safety. He'll use his connections to keep an ear out to make sure no one has it out for you, and he's joined you to save your hide a few times.

❤︎ You have pulled some risky stunts to help Nick out. If the synth had the ability to, he would have had a heart attack a long time ago given your antics. He prefers you just verbally protect him from anti synth crap.

𝐓 = 𝐓𝐫𝐲 (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

❤︎ He loves taking you out on dates, it's the perfect way to unwind for him. there aren't much date spots to take you out to, but he'll find fun wherever he can find. He'll also do his best with every day tasks, keeping everything clean whilst you're asleep.

❤︎ This man has a special place in his non existent heart for anniversaries. Every year he makes sure to plan something nice for the two of you to do. At least one time an evening got derailed to a surprise murder mystery case.

𝐔 = 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

❤︎ Really forgetful, like I said before. His memory is limited and it's not uncommon for him to forget things you told him, or events the two of you went through together. He feels bad about it, but it's not something he can help.

❤︎ Gets a bit too invested in his cases sometimes. He'll sometimes spend days mulling over a case, completely frustrated over something he seems to be missing that he doesn't have much time for you.

𝐕 = 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 (How concerned are they with their looks?)

❤︎ The guy is practically falling apart, and it's the end of the world outside. Good looks and appearing fancy aren't exactly his main concerns. His suit has been patched up a few times and his synthetic skin is somewhat filthy.

❤︎ That being said it's not like he's a total slob. He still tries to make himself look presentable to you. Just don't expect prince charming, he's still just an old synth.

𝐖 = 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

❤︎ Valentine can hold his own pretty well. That being sad, he would be a lot less content without you in his presence. You made his mundane life so much brighter, you made him realize he was his own person, after all.

❤︎ Sometimes he does things from his old routine, finding himself by your bedside, only to remember that you're no longer occupying it. Or he buys an extra bowl of noodles, forgetting that you're no longer there to join Ellie in eating them.

𝐗 = 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚 (A random headcanon for them.)

❤︎ Sometimes talks to you about the pre war world. He didn't experience it himself, but he still holds the memories. Sometimes he'll ask about certain things from the original Nick's memory, it bring him a sense of comfort.

❤︎ For a second one, if you have technological skills, he'd trust you to help with maintenance of his body. Sometimes it's just an excuse to have you close to him, though.

𝐘 = 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤 (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

❤︎ He wouldn't tolerate a nasty attitude or cruelty towards others. The wasteland is a miserable enough place as is, and you really aren't helping. He'll give you a few warnings before he becomes completely fed up with you.

❤︎ Predjudice, especially if you're in the Brotherhood. If you have a hatred towards synths and ghouls, then what is he to you? It leaves a hypothetical bad taste in his mouth.

𝐙 = 𝐙𝐳𝐳 (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

❤︎ Nick doesn't sleep, instead he tries to get work done whilst you're off snoozing. He likes working on cases and searching files whilst he's in the room with you. Having you close to him feels comforting and he can keep an eye out for any danger.

❤︎ Sometimes he sits in bed with you, letting you wrap your arms around his synthetic body whilst he reads or simply watches you. He'll brush the hair out of your face, rub your shoulder or place his arm around you.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi, I wanted to say that I really liked reading your analyses when it comes to flaws in lmk's writing, along with the ranking of the villains that you did. I hope it's alright to ask for advice, since I'd like to make a romantic self insert story with Macaque, but the thing is that I'm worried on how to portray the platonic relationship between Sun Wukong and Macaque. While we still don't know entirety of how Macaque died in his fight with Wukong, I've already made decision to address both of their faults that caused their relationship's downfall. What I'm worried about is how to portray it clearly that it's both of their faults, without making them too OOC. Some fans have tendency to chose sides with their whole situation, which is something I'd like to avoid. But I'm not sure how to avoid that, which is why I'd like to ask for your advice on it.

Sun Wukong and Macaque

A Rundown on the Fallout

This is an interesting question, and thank you for asking! Given how much of their personal backstory is left to viewer interpretation, I’ve included a little bit of mine.

I think the big, big thing that people miss with the Sundial/Shadowpeach fallout is how severely uneven it is. But give me a minute to get there…

Probably the biggest of Past!Sun Wukong’s biggest issues is what I’m going to call “externalizing”. (This isn’t the appropriate way to use that word, but I’m at a loss here) Wukong is bright and loud and happy- and very, very desperate for attention.

Sun Wukong’s literal first action in the world was to excitedly barrel towards a group of monkeys. His first words end with him asking plainly “Don’t ya like it?!” like a child begging for praise from a parent. He shows off to Subodhi’s other students. He eagerly tells a chaotic story to his sworn brothers and is implied to play it up to some degree for attention.

This is direct opposition to Macaque.

Past!Macaque is quiet, withdrawn. He has no ties to other people. He doesn’t pipe up. He’s not bold or confident. So what does Macaque do?

Well, just about jackshit. There’s only TWO members of the six-strong brotherhood that he actually shares interactions with- Sun Wukong and Peng.

Azure Lion? Yellowtusk? Demon Bull King? Macaque literally doesn’t interact with any of them even once. Nobody calls him brother. Flash to the modern day, and he’s the last person Azure bothers looking for.

He doesn’t joke, or tell stories, or try to bond with the rest of the crew. This is literally how he responds to being called a coward and a rodent by a “brother”.

By mildly frowning.

(Side note: WUKONG IS NOT IN THE WRONG FOR NOT DEFENDING MACAQUE FROM PENG. Macaque never went above a mild frown and never acted hurt or upset beyond this little facial expression. If he was sad ((WHICH HE WASN’T)) or seethingly angry ((WHICH HE WASN’T)) then it’s on Macaque and Macaque alone for not defending himself. Wukong is not his brother’s keeper, etc.)

(Macaque, even in the past, was a lot stronger than he’s often given credit for. Did this remark make him unhappy? Yes. Did it break or ruin him? No.)

He has no friends or ties to the past. No mentor and no fellows and no troop. No one likes him. No one wants him. No once cares about him… except for the Monkey King.

All he has is Sun Wukong.

So already they’re on this MASSIVELY unbalance scale where Wukong has a title and a troop and a heaping handful of immortalities and a band of brothers and a sacred weapon and a mountain and and and!!!

And… Macaque has… his shadow powers?

Yeah, they’re not on level footing. Wukong could pull out of the brotherhood and away from Macaque and throw down his staff and still have so, so much!

And Macaque, if he left Wukong, would have next to nothing.

Sun Wukong is his one good thing. His one star in a dark sky. Sun Wukong is all that Macaque has.

Already is this an EXTREMELY unhealthy dynamic, where you’re basically living for a second person without them putting that devotion back towards you-

Which is exactly what causes the downfall of this relationship.

Macaque doesn’t speak up for or against anything. He’s just willing to sit pretty and play along… because it’s for his one good thing.

Because it’s for Wukong.

Even if his brothers don’t like him, or he gets mocked, or he doesn’t want to play along, Macaque grits his teeth and stays- because it’s for Wukong.

Because he can’t lose his one good thing.

So he’ll do anything.

And that’s the problem.

The Monkey King isn’t asking him to shut up and play nice. Nor does he ask for blind loyalty. And he doesn’t ask his friend not to voice his concerns and fears.

Macaque is choosing to do these things.

Because he can’t lose his one good thing.

Macaque is choosing to “internalize” (again, this isn’t the appropriate way to use that word, but I’ve set a precedent here) his thoughts and feelings.

Macaque pulls everything inside, and Sun Wukong pushes it all out.

The First Crack: Uneven Expectations

Macaque is not honest with his thoughts and feelings. He never actually expresses the way he feels to Wukong, which leads to the Monkey King never understanding his feelings. But you know what Macaque DOES do?

He gently and softly nudges the idea of maybe kinda I dunno potentially not taking over the entire Celestial Realm???

But he doesn’t say no.

Macaque never expresses himself or genuinely tries to talk Wukong out of overthrowing the Jade Emperor. He just hints at the idea and EXPECTS Wukong to pick up on his thoughts and wants without any real effort on his own part. He puts ALL of the onus onto Wukong to understand and reach out to him, without putting that amount of time and effort in himself.

Macaque wants to be understood without putting on the effort to be understandable, which isn’t fair to Wukong at all.

The Second Crack: Unfairly Divided Consequences

Wukong is solely punished for the crimes of six men, and left to rot while his sworn brothers run free.

(Quotes pulled from prior analysis)

Sun Wukong is trapped. For attempting to overthrow the Jade Emperor, he is sentenced to FIVE HUNDRED YEARS trapped under a mountain.

Let me elaborate for anyone who doesn't sympathize.

For the next five hundred years, Sun Wukong will be 75% immobile and alone under a nearly lightless mountain. There will be no noise, no stimulation, and no company. He will suffer in silence, and he will suffer alone.

But you know who ISN'T being punished for an attempt to overthrow the Jade Emperor?

Macaque.

Now, this is funny. Wukong leads a six strong band of brothers against the forces of the Celestial Realm, but only ONE of them faces consequences for the rebellion- himself.

Even five hundred years later when Wukong is set free and traveling with his fellow pilgrims...

No one else has faced consequences for the rebellion. All five of Wukong's "brothers" (Azure Lion, Peng, Demon Bull King, Yellowtusk, and yes, Macaque) get away scot-free to continue their plans and schemes.

I would be pissed. You would be pissed. There is not ONE SINGLE PERSON in this world that would NOT be pissed about how blatantly unfair this is.

(End Quote)

This is especially important if you read Azure Lion’s about Wukong “surrendering” as the truth (he is an unreliable narrator), then it’s likely his brothers were spared as a result of his surrender. And still, he’s all alone in this cavern, bored and uncomfortable and angry.

And probably very sad and lonely, too.

The Third Crack: Peach Symbolism

When Wukong wants to cheer Macaque up, what does he do?

Engage in snacking and physical affection that leaves the two snuggled up side by side on a sunny beach.

Seems like the Monkey King has a pretty good read on his best bud!

Now, how does Macaque repay the favor?

After an unknown period of time spent in the extensively explained condition above leaves Wukong angry and frustrated, Macaque comes by to-

Jam a peach into Wukong’s face and act like nothing is wrong at all.

Sun Wukong doesn’t want to pretend that nothing is wrong. He doesn’t want to act like everything is okay. He wants to be free.

But Macaque has put on an act this entire time. He’s played along and kept quiet and complacent and been “good”, and even now is he acting.

So he presents, of all fucking thing, a peach.

Sun Wukong likes peaches, yes. They’re likely a comfort food from a time long past, a constant in his long, long life.

(I bet that on Flower Fruit Mountain there’s a special strain untainted by the push of genetically-modified fruit that’s grown to be chock-full of sugar. I bet it’s his absolute favorite thing in the world to eat. I bet he shared it with the Pilgrims. I bet he wishes he could share it with them again. I bet.)

They’re a symbol of massive freedom- freedom from strife and pain and death.

And having that symbol presented to him so plainly and pretend-happily?

It’s just the final nail in his diminishing coffin of self-control.

The Fourth Crack: Wukong Lashes Out

So, as was unavoidable from the start of his imprisonment- Wukong snaps and rejects the peach, mocking Macaque for trying to cheer him up from a five-hundred year sentence with fruit and a false smile.

But he doesn’t stop there-

The Monkey King continues to castigate his best friend, blaming him for things that are the shoulderweights of six men.

Except he’s not really lashing out at Macaque directly- he’s just lashing out, and Macaque happens to be the nearest target.

There was bound to be a breakdown eventually. No matter how you look at this scenario, anyone would snap. There’s literally not even one person who wouldn’t break down eventually.

And then, Macaque lashes right back, and says something very interesting-

The Fifth Crack: Macaque Lies and Run Away

(Censored quotes taken from same analysis)

No, he didn't.

Macaque nudges the idea. He implies the idea. He hints it, quietly and softly.

"You're really going through with this?" Is not him shutting down the idea of fighting the Celestial Realm.

It's him being a coward and trying to dance around the issue without a direct confrontation.

Not even once does Macaque say: “We shouldn't fight the Jade Emperor."

He directly LIES to present himself as being the better person during this fight.

Macaque is lying to his best friend’s face to make himself look better in this utterly pointless argument, then prepares to run away and never comes back- but not before placing literally all of the blame for EVERYTHING onto Wukong’s shoulders.

(End quote)

Final Crack: YOU are responsible for MY behavior!

Finally, Macaque makes a few last “Nothing is ever MY fault!” statements to Wukong, consisting of:

“You dragged everyone else into this!”

“You put yourself here, not me!”

Which are BOTH blatantly untrue, given that

1. The Azure Lion is actually the one who started the Brotherhood in the first place

2. Macaque is a grown man who makes his own decisions

3. The rest of the Brotherhood are grown men who make their own decisions

4. Macaque went along with the plan willingly

5. The rest of the Brotherhood went along with the plan willingly

6. Everyone took part in the attempted rebellion of their own will and volition

Everyone is responsible for the end result, including Macaque who was there literally every step of the way, but he doesn’t want to accept that!

Macaque wants to be a perfect little victim who can wipe his hands of the matter, and who better to blame…

Then his “one good thing”, who is now utterly helpless and incapable of doing anything about it?

Macaque only finally lashes out and speaks up when there is literally no way to face recourse for it- which is proof of the cowardice lurking inside him.

There’s a big reason that Wukong calling him out for “running away” hits so hard and is what finally prompts Macaque into speaking up and tries to absolve himself of all blame.

Because Macaque knows that Wukong is right.

The first thing that Macaque does when things go wrong is to prioritize himself and run away. (Just remember how he responded to unleashing the Samadhi Fire.) Then, when all is said and past and it’s time to tell the tale, Macaque will whitewash himself- which he does blatantly in “Shadowplay”.

So when his gilded “one good thing” finally cracks the image Macaque built up by being a fallible person who stumbles and slips up and makes very human mistakes?

He abandons ship, and allows his flaws to start sliding out- now Macaque is “externalizing”, which he’ll continue to do to the present day- taking everything inside and putting it out- by projecting and slandering and lying and trying to hurt innocent people.

Essentially, Macaque puts his best friend on a pedestal and of his own will and volition plays the role of “lackey” for nothing in return without being asked, then ditches him over a fight and returns to a much unhealthier group of “friends”, while Sun Wukong is left to serve a lonely sentence as punishment. But because the Monkey King receives punishment and does his time, Wukong is allowed a chance at redemption under the loving and caring eye of his Master, Tang Sanzang, and manages to redeem himself, where his guilty brothers going free leads them to continually rack up crimes that leaves them on the receiving end of the pilgrims wrath.

Okay I’m tired now love you guys ❤️❤️

[asksythe]

Close-up version so we can see all that yummy intimacy! The full version is a bit bigger so I'll leave it below. Commed. Artist: Raccoon Nilh It's completed! I'm so happy with how this piece turned out! Raccoon Nilh did great work! Anyway, this is one of the illustrations for a future fanfic project I have planned. The name is: Pygmalion Gazes at the Stars. To avoid the fate of other stories I have come up but forgot to write down (they faded from my brain), I wrote down this (much truncated) plot draft. The original plan was something like... 7000 words of text over varios plot elements, the overarching structures, how the relationship will unfold, how it will be viewed through the astonishing eyes of Chaldea staff, the implications and fallouts of Daybit's presence, the climatic finale act complete with mad girlfriend Riri riding a motorbike and wielding a shotgun running over Lostbelt 7 to hunt down Daybit in his jeep.... among other things... ...anyway...

Premise

Pygmalion Gazes at the Stars begins as a continuation of canon—a hypothetical extension of Lostbelt 7 ending. In this version, Daybit Sem Void, having been defeated and undone in the final act of his own Lostbelt, accepts Tezcatlipoca’s offer to rewind time. He’s given a single opportunity to try again, to change the outcome, to pursue the answer he never found.

But instead of rewinding back to the start of Lostbelt 7, Daybit goes further. Much further.

He rewinds all the way to the very beginning—before the explosion at Chaldea, before the Lostbelts, before Team A was sealed into the coffins. This time, Daybit evades the collapse of the command room. This time, he does not follow the other Crypters into slumber or betrayal. Instead, he walks a different path.

He joins Chaldea’s new timeline and aligns himself with a girl he once underestimated: Ritsuka Fujimaru.

But his motives aren’t benevolent. This isn’t redemption—not yet. What drives him is an obsession. In his mind, Ritsuka is the one who defeated Ort. The one who overcame the impossible. The one who bested him.

In her, Daybit sees a rival unlike any he’s ever known. So he returns to the beginning—not to save her, not to support her, but to observe her. Study her. Surpass her. To do this, he refuses to take command as the 'Last Master of Humanity,' a title which would have gone to him as a member of Team A and the much more experienced Master than greenhorn Riri, much to everybody's surprise. In typical Daybit's manner, he refuses to elaborate beyond insisting that Riri is the best Master there is (because it's the truth in his mind! He hasn't surpassed her yet)

The rest of Chaldea doesn’t understand why Daybit defers to her leadership. Ritsuka herself is suspicious of his sincerity. But as the singularities unfold and the Lostbelt threat begins to stir once more, an unshakable bond forms—not through fate, but through day-by-day presence. Through belief. Through proximity. Through shared experience.

In trying to surpass her, Daybit begins to understand her. And through her, he begins to understand himself again.

The Pygmalion Effect

The heart of the story lies in the psychological concept known as the Pygmalion effect: when someone believes in you so completely, you begin to rise to meet their expectations. Ritsuka, who starts the story uncertain and insecure, begins to grow into her role because Daybit believes in her without question. That belief changes her. And, over time, it begins to change him too.

This story isn’t just about one person sculpting another. It's about two people who become better versions of themselves through mutual belief. Ritsuka sees through Daybit’s inhuman detachment (in typical Riri's fashion. What's a Cloudcuckoolander Daybit compared to literal BEAST Draco?). She recognizes his pain and loneliness, which even Daybit himself fails to vocalize. In doing so, she returns his gaze with her own belief—that he isn’t beyond saving, that he’s still human underneath.

The Shape of a Life: Daybit, Riri, and the Slow Return to Humanity

One of the most grounding elements of Pygmalion is the day-to-day life that quietly unfolds between Daybit, Ritsuka, and Mash. After the decision is made to support Riri, Daybit quite literally never leaves her side. He insists it’s necessary to observe her constantly in order to surpass her—he must be there at every moment to record her strengths, catalog her missteps, and understand her entirely.

And so, Daybit eats when Riri eats. Trains when she trains. Reads mission reports at her side. They review battle data together, share coffee across the table, and discuss Servant summoning strategies long into the night. Eventually, sleeping arrangements become shared, too—not from romantic initiative, but because Riri falls asleep at her desk too often and Daybit refuses to leave her unattended. In his words: “It is vital to track the frequency and condition of her REM cycles.”

Mash, ever loyal, is often close by. In many ways, this strange trio becomes a unit—Chaldea’s emotional core. Riri becomes something of a pseudo big sister to both of them, despite Daybit technically being her senpai. Where he brings raw analytical ability and bizarre alien foresight, she brings warmth and trust and an instinctive grasp of people.

What starts as Daybit’s obsessive campaign to study and “surpass” her becomes something else entirely. Through Riri’s routines—meals, laughter, arguments, fatigue, quiet joy—he begins to feel again. He starts noticing things: how good coffee tastes after a long mission. How soothing Riri’s voice is when she’s humming without realizing it. How Mash smiles a little more easily when the three of them are together.

Without meaning to, Daybit begins to experience what he lost: a sense of family. And while he would never use that word himself, it takes root in the quiet spaces between battles—in the walk to the cafeteria, the silence before sleep, the shared glance across a crowded control room. For someone so thoroughly estranged from humanity, routine becomes a lifeline. Intimacy, even platonic, becomes a catalyst.

Riri doesn’t notice at first. She simply enjoys the company and tries to take care of both of them. But slowly, through a hundred unnoticed moments, she becomes the center of a new constellation—a small, strange, but fiercely devoted family. In essence, Riri becomes a lens through which Daybit can perceive his own humanity again.

The Alien Within: Daybit and the Question of Intimacy

There’s a specific narrative I want to explore through Daybit, inspired in part by Phoenix by Osamu Tezuka (and its later reinterpretation in Saya no Uta) and my own interpretation of Daybit as a character (which I probably should write out one of these days). It’s the idea of a person whose perception of humanity has been fundamentally altered—someone who no longer sees other people as people. Someone for whom connection becomes foreign and unsettling.

Daybit, in this story, doesn’t simply struggle with love or intimacy; he doesn’t even process it in the same way anymore. He’s so alienated from humanity—emotionally, psychologically, even spiritually—that human urges and instincts don’t quite register as real to him. When he looks at others, he doesn’t see potential partners. He sees something akin to how we might view another species.

It’s not that he can’t form bonds. It’s that he doesn’t expect to or even thinks he needs to. But then, into that distorted landscape, walks Riri.

He doesn’t initially see her as a woman or even a person, but as an anomaly. A perplexing variable that he cannot simulate, cannot solve, like how she even bested him in the canon Lostbelt 7. Slowly, through observation and prolonged proximity, she becomes the exception to his estrangement. Not through any deliberate seduction, but through sheer presence—through being human in a way he had forgotten was possible.

In intimate moments, he doesn’t perceive her body as a biological object. Instead, he processes it through alien metaphor: as glass, as sand, as something granular and collapsing yet beautiful in its impermanence. His approach to sexuality is less instinctual and more cognitive—curious, reverent, disoriented. And it’s through this lens that he begins to re-approach what it means to be human at all.

Ensemble Cast and Ripple Effects

In this timeline, the Crypters begin to survive. Daybit’s interference changes the game. The grand sacrificial ritual behind the Lostbelts starts to unravel. More of Team A wakes up and sees what’s become of Chaldea—and of Daybit.

Many assume he’s running the show, only to be surprised when they realize it’s Ritsuka in charge, and that Daybit defers to her completely.

That confusion sparks speculation. Is Ritsuka a product of mage-breeding experiments? A genetically engineered super-Master? The Crypters can’t believe someone as unremarkable as her could be that good—so they start looking for hidden reasons.

Only Beryl, strangely enough, sees the truth. He knows love when he sees it.

And so begins a chain reaction. The rest of the Crypters start to bond, to grow, even to form their own ill-fated or awkward relationships. Chaldea becomes a strange sort of found family—one with plenty of dysfunction, plenty of arguments, but also moments of warmth and honesty. There's even a light parody thread running through it: "nature documentary"-style commentary on the "mating habits" of socially inept magi.

The Conspiracy: Who—or What—is Riri?

As Daybit continues to defer to Riri and the Crypters begin to rejoin Chaldea, something unexpected happens. Whispers begin to circulate. Because to them, Riri shouldn’t be possible. In canon, Riri's success was chalked up to as nothing more than a fluke and the result of her hiding behind Mash by the Crypters (except Wodime but he didn't exactly share that with the class). But in this timeline, Daybit's presence and continual deference to Riri in battle and in decision making as a Master throws that assumption out the window. Mash's deference can be reasoned away because she was just a fancy homunculus to the mages. But Daybit is considered Wodime's peer. There's absolutely no way Daybit would defer to some unknown neophyte without a reason.

The Crypters know Chaldea. They were the elite. Team A was handpicked by Marisbury himself. And yet here’s this complete outsider—a supposed “average” Master candidate who somehow survived the destruction of Chaldea, succeeded where no one else could, and has Daybit of all people in her orbit, treating her like the sun around which he orbits.

They start to wonder: is she really just a lucky survivor?

A theory takes root. That Ritsuka Fujimaru was never just a random candidate. That she may have been the final product of an off-book genetic engineering project—Marisbury’s last, hidden card. A counterpoint to Mash Kyrielight: whereas Mash was engineered to contain a Heroic Spirit, perhaps Riri was designed to command them. A Master refined at the genetic level, optimized for survival, summoning, and leadership.

The fact that she and Mash are inseparable only fuels the theory. Were they meant to function as a paired unit? A living singularity and its anchor? It makes a certain kind of sense because Mash while she was working with Team A never displayed this level of power, initiative, and agency. She couldn't even manifest her servant power in a controlled manner. But if she's essentially a lock just waiting for the key to unlock her true potential, then Riri's presence and their combined success make a lot of sense. And now, with Marisbury gone, has Daybit—forever the outsider among mages—stepped in to claim the prize before anyone else realized what she was?

Even if the theory is false, it spreads fast. It’s easier for the Crypters to believe in a conspiracy than in a miracle.

An Unconventional Romance

Their relationship is not straightforward. For the longest time, Daybit sees Ritsuka not as a love interest, but as a rival—his greatest adversary. He meticulously documents her successes and her failures, determined to surpass her. His “affection” manifests as an obsessive need to learn from her and record everything she does, including moments as mundane as her falling asleep on the command room desk.

He’s oblivious to the fact that this has long since become something deeper. The Chaldea staff eventually catches on, of course. Some even tries to intervene in an attempt to help the poor, socially inept young man with his massive crush... to no avail. Daybit insists that everything he does is so that he can surpass her one day. What? This journal he keeps to record everything about her, even down to her nap time and favorite food and all the little stumbles she makes? Clearly, these are useful data points and potential blackmail materials to be used to devastating effect. There’s even a betting pool on when—or if—he’ll realize it himself. And naturally, there’s comedic potential here: Daybit sabotaging Valentine’s Day to intercept chocolates meant for Ritsuka, criticizing Servants like Dantes for being “untrustworthy,” and insisting on spending every waking hour “calibrating” with her for “operational efficiency.”

Finale: Conflict and Clarity

Hah! Well, I can't put too many details here because I don't want to spoil the plot, but it will involve an alternate Lostbelt 7. This is where it starts for Daybit (and Riri), and this is where it will end. This is the stage of their showdown... and their first big argument (break up! In typical romantic plot!)

It will be explosive! Action! Speed! Car chase! Guns galore in typical American action romance fashion! The young couple meet in battle to resolve their differences! All that jazz!

The Ending: A Declaration

The ending is, in a sense, Daybit's proposal to Riri, in the usual Daybit's fashion. He tells Ritsuka that she is, and always has been, his greatest adversary. That he wants to surpass her. That he will be there at every stumble, and rise beyond every triumph.

It’s a confession in his own language.

And Ritsuka, with tears and laughter and maybe a few swears, throws it right back at him. Yes, she's going to be his rival! Now and forever! Provided he doesn't mess up again! And no he won't surpass her anytime soon, because she's going to try her damnedest to keep the lead on him.

A Story About Belief

At its core, Pygmalion Gazes at the Stars is a story about how belief transforms people—how seeing someone clearly, and choosing to believe in them, can be the most powerful form of love. It’s about alienation and reconnection. Found family. Quiet moments at the edge of the universe.

It’s not just Daybit sculpting Ritsuka into the savior of humanity. It’s also Ritsuka remaking Daybit into someone who, for the first time in a very long time, looks up at the stars and doesn’t feel so alone.

[flawseer]

What's your opinion of what everyone did after the sealing of Darkstalker in the legends book? It just seemed way too quick with how they just moved on from the horrors, as Fathom and Indigo had kids and Clearsight flew off to a new continent to have kids with and create a whole new tribe. On another note, considering how Fathom was kind of banished (from what I remember) and had kids split off from the Royal Family, do you think there may be a descendant of Fathom somewhere hiding with Animus powers? Or do you think they just ended up being adopted back into the royal family after being discovered?

I personally consider Legends: Darkstalker the best book in the series, in part because I believe Sutherland's writing shines when she is not binding herself to the 5 books arc structure.

That said, the ending does have a bit of that one particular prequel problem. You know, the one where the characters are confirmed to be at a certain location in the future, so they absolutely HAVE to end the prequel story getting to that location IMMEDIATELY.

That's what I was thinking with regards to Clearsight's ending. Now, everyone deals with trauma differently, so I can only comment on her actions from my own limited point of view. I don't think I could have done what she did, at least not so suddenly. She had relationships beyond Darkstalker, with Listener and her parents, whom she presumably was still on good terms with. Like, especially her parents I think never actually learned what happened to her. They might have continued living thinking their only daughter died in the evacuation.

When I think of that part of the book, I personally like to envision an epilogue where Clearsight returns to her parents and lives with the Nightwings for a while (a couple years maybe). Her parents are supportive and Listener is grateful and admires her friend for saving her family. So much so that she reverses her stance on futuresight and authors a scroll about it, crediting Clearsight as a master prophet (this is the scroll that Moonwatcher later reads).

But the other Nightwings still fear Darkstalker, and they remember his girlfriend who stood on stage with him and looked at him adoringly as Darkstalker massacred his own father (they don't know she was tricking Darkstalker). So there is public tension building at Clearsight living with them, and it begins to negatively impact the people who support her. In the end, Clearsight decides to leave the tribe, both to protect her loved ones from getting caught up in her fallout and to separate herself from all that trauma and find her fortune on the new continent.

Notably, she actually tells her friends and parents about that plan this time, and they don't spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened.

As for Fathom and any potential descendants, there is a 'realistic but boring' answer, and one that is a bit more interesting narratively.

The boring answer is that, yes, there are descendants of Fathom around. Lots of them. It is inevitable. If you take an individual and step back one generation, you find they will have 2 parents. Above that they have 4 grandparents. Then 8 great-grandparents, 16 great-great-grandparents. At 10 generations back we are looking at 1024 theoretical ancestors. Now as these numbers get bigger, some of these lines will cross-breed with each other again, so the math isn't entirely clean, but just trust me that these numbers balloon really fast the more generations you go back.

Fathom was alive 2000 years ago. If we lean conservatively and say the average dragon has eggs at age 20, that means 100 generations have come and gone from then to today. The number of ancestors over this many generations is so high, you might pick any Seawing currently alive in present day and there will be a very decent chance of them having Fathom somewhere in their bloodline.

You go back far enough and everyone starts to be related to everyone else. Ancestry is funny like that.

For the more narratively interesting answer: I do believe Fathom re-integrated into the royal family again. One thing that needs to be kept in mind is that Pearl, like her brother, also had her entire life uprooted by the Royal Seawing Massacre. She was all at once dealing with the shock of losing her parents and the stress of having to now run the entire kingdom without being prepared for it at all. There was no time to process any grief, or the lingering fear. When she sent her brother away and forbade him to have children, that wasn't an act of malice, it was the only solution she could think of to keep everyone safe from the future threat of magic without also having to execute the last part of her family.

Neither of them ever had any ill will against the other. Pearl was dealt the shittiest of hands and she tried to make the best play she could at the time, while desperately trying to keep herself together. That is what I think.

As Pearl and Fathom got older and the situation in the Sea Kingdom stabilized, Pearl might have finally been able to reflect upon what happened and to process some of her neglected emotional turmoil. I believe Fathom eventually reached out again and they both found a way to reconcile, mending their fractured relationship. I don't know if Fathom moved back into the palace; perhaps he chose to stay away to keep the rest of the populace at ease. But I think his children or grand-children would eventually re-integrate into the royal family.

This turned out a bit wordy and the question was sitting in my inbox for a good while. But I hope this provides an interesting answer.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 68 - Babel by R. F. Kuang

Overview

I came to Babel with extremely little knowledge about the actual contents of the book but a deep sense of all the vibes swirling around its reception – that it was robbed of a Hugo nomination (if the author didn’t outright refuse it), that it’s probably the single buzziest and most Important sf/f release of 2022, that it was stridently political, and plenty more besides. I also went in having mostly enjoyed The Poppy War series and being absolutely enamoured by the elevator pitch of an alternate history Industrial Revolution where translation is literally magic. And, well-

It is wrong to say I hated this book, but only because keeping track of my complaints and starting organize this review in my head was entertaining enough to keep me invested in the reading experience.

The story is set in an alternate 1830s, where the rise of the British Empire relies upon the dominance of its translators, as it is the mixture of translation and silverworking, the inscription of match-pairs in different languages on bars of worked silver and the leveraging of the ambiguity and loss of meaning between them that fuels the world’s magic. The protagonist is pluckted from his childhood home in Canton after his family dies in a cholera outbreak and whisked away to the estate of Professor Lowell, an Oxford translator he quickly realized is his unacknowledged father. He’s made to choose an English name (Robin Swift) and raised and tutored as a future translator in service to the Empire.

The meat of the story is focused on Robin’s education in Oxford, his relationship with the rest of his cohort, and his growing radicalization and entanglement with the revolutionary Hermes Society. Things come to a head when in his fourth year the cohort is sent back to Canton to, well, help provoke the first Opium War, though none of them aware of that. The final act follows the fallout of that, by which I mean it lives up to the full title of “Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution”.

To be clear, this was technically a very accomplished book. The writing never dragged and the prose was, if not exactly lyrical, always clear and often evocative. Despite the breadth of space and time the story covers, I never had any complaints about the pacing – and honestly, the ending was, dramatically speaking, one of the more natural and well-executed ones I’ve read recently. It’s very well-constructed.

All that being said – allow me to apologize for how the rest of this is mostly just going to be a litany of complaints. But the book clearly believes itself to be an important and meaningful work of political art, which means I don’t feel particularly bad about holding it to high standards.

Narrative Voice

To start with, just, dear god the tone. This is a book with absolutely zero faith in its audience’s ability to reach their own conclusions, or even follow the symbolism and implication it lays down. Every important point is stated outright, repeated, and all but bolded and underlined. In this book set in 1830s England there are footnotes fact-checking the imperialists talking heads to, I guess, make sure we don’t accidentally become convinced by their apologia for the slave trade? Everything is just relentlessly didactic, in a way that ended up feeling rather insulting even when I agreed with the points Kuang was making.

More than that, and this is perhaps a more subjective complaint but – for an ostensible period piece, the narrative voice and perspective just felt intensely modern? This was theoretically an omniscient third person book, with the narrative voice being pretty distinct from any of the actual characters – with the result that the implicit narrator was instead the sort of person of spends six hours a day getting into arguments on twitter and for this effort calls themselves a progressive activist. The identities of all the characters – as delivered by the objective narration – were all very neat and legible from the perspective of someone at a 2022 HR department listing how diverse their team was, which was somewhere between a tragic lost opportunity to show how messy and historical racial/ethnic/national identities are and outright anachronistic, depending. (This was honestly one of the bigger disappointments, coming from Kuang’s earlier work. Say what you will of The Poppy War series, the narration is with Rin all the way down, and it trusts the reader enough not to blink.) More than that it was just distracting – the narration ended up feeling like an annoying obstacle between me and the story, and not in any fun postmodern way either.

Characters

Speaking of the cast – they simply do not sound or feel like they actually grew up in the 19th century. Now, some modernization of speech patterns and vocabulary and moral commensense is just the price of doing business with mass market period pieces, granted, but still – no 19th century Anglo-Indian revolutionary is going use the phrase ‘Narco-military state’ (if for no other reason than we’re something like a century early for ‘narco-state’ to be coined as a term at all). An even beyond feeling out of time most of the characters feel kind of thinly sketched?

Or no, it’s not that the characters are thinly sketched so much as their relationships are. We’re repeatedly, insistently told that these four students are fast friends and closer than family and would happily die for each other, but we’re very rarely actually shown it. This is partly just a causality of trying to skim over a four-year university education in the middle third of one book, I think, but still – the good times and happy moments are almost always sort of skimmed over, summarized in the course of a paragraph or two that usually talk in terms of memories and consequences more than the relationships themselves. The points of friction and the arguments, meanwhile, are usually played out entirely on the page, or at least described in much more detail. In the end you kind of have to just take it as read that any of these people actually love each other, given that at least two of them seem to be feuding at any given point for the entire time they know each other.

Letty deserves some special attention. She’s the only white member of Robin’s cohort at Babel and she honestly feels like less of acharacter and more a collection of tropes about white women in progressive spaces? Even more than the rest, it’s hard to believe the rest of the class views her as beloved ride-or-die found family when essentially every time she’s on screen it’s so she can do a microagression or a white fragility or something. Also, just – you know how relatively common it is to see just, blatantly misogynistic memes repackaged as anti-racist because it specifies ‘white women’? There’s a line in this that almost literally says ‘Letty wasn’t doing anything to disprove the stereotype of woman as uselessly emotional and hysteric’.

Also, she’s the one who ends up betraying the other three and trying to turn them in when they turn revolutionary. Which is probably inevitable given the book’s politics, but as it happened felt like less of the shocking betrayal that it was supposed to be and more just, checking off a box for a dramatic reverse. Of course she turned on them, none of them ever really seemed to even like each other.

As a Period Piece

So, the book is set in the 1830s, in the midst of the industrial revolution and its social fallout, and the leadup to the First Opium War (which is, through the magic of, well, magic ,but also mercantilist economics, make into a synecdoche for British global dominion more broadly). On the one hand, the setting is impeccably researched, recent and relevant historical events are referenced whenever they would come up, and the footnotes are full to bursting with quotes and explanations of texts or cultural ephemera that’s brought up in the narration.

On the other, the setting doesn’t feel authentic in the slightest, the portrayal of the British Empire is bizarrely inconsistent, and all that richly researched historical grounding ends up feeling less like a living world and more like a particularly well-down set for a Doctor Who episode.

The story is incredibly focused around Oxford as a city and a university. There’s a whole author’s note about the research and slight changes made into its geography and I absolutely believe its portrayal as a physical location and the laws about how women were treated and how the different colleges were organized and all that is exactly as accurate as Kuang wanted them to be. The issue is really the people. With the exception of a few cartoonish villains who barely get more than a couple pages apiece, no one feels, sounds like, or acts like they actually belong in the 19th century. The racism the protagonists struggle with all feels much more 21st century than Victorian, and the frame of mind everyone inhabits still comes across more as ‘unusually blatantly racist Englishman’ than 19th century scholars and polymaths.

This is especially blatant as far as religion goes. It’s occasionally mentioned, sure enough, but to the extent anyone actually believes in Christianity it’s of a very modern and disenchanted sort – this is a society that sends out missionaries as a conscious tool of colonial expansion, not because of anything as silly or absurd as actually wanting to spread their gospel. Also like, it’s Oxford, in the nineteenth century. For all the racism the protagonists have to deal with, they should be getting so much more shit from ‘well-meaning’ locals and students trying to save their (one Muslim, one atheist, one probably Christian but black and protective of Haitian Vodou on a cultural level which would be more than enough) souls.

Or, and this is more minor, it is a central conceit of the whole finale that if a few (like, two) determined revolutionaries can infiltrate Babel they’ll be able to take the entire place hostage with barely any trouble. This is because the students and professors there are, basically, whimpy bookworms who’ll faint at the sight of blood and have no stomach for the sort of violence their work actually supports and drives. Which – look, I really don’t want to defend the ruling class of Victorian Britain here, but I’m not sure physical cowardice is really one of their failings, as a group? I mean, there’s an entire system of institutionalized child abuse in the boarding schools they went to to get them used to taking and dealing out violence and abuse. Basically every upper-class sport is thinly disguised military drill or ritual combat (okay, or rowing). Half of them would graduate to immediately running off and invading places for the glory of the queen. I’m not sure two sleep-deprived nerds with knives would actually have been able to cow the crowd here, is what I’m saying. (This would stick out less if the text wasn’t so dripping with contempt for them on precisely these grounds.)

Much less minor are our heroic revolutionaries themselves. And okay, this is more a matter of taste than anything but like – the Hermes Society is an illegal conspiracy of renegade current and former Babel scholars dedicated to using their knowledge of magic and access to university resources to oppose and undermine the British Empire in general and the work of the school in particular. Think Metternich’s worse nightmare, but in Oxford instead of Paris and focused on colonial liberation (continental Europe barely exists for the purposes of the book, Britain is Empire.) So! A secret society of professional revolutionaries in the heydey of just that, with a name that just has to be Hermetic symbolism, who concern themselves with both high politics and metaphysics.

They are just so very, very boring. This is the age of the Conspiracy of the Equals, the Carbonari, the Seasons! The literal Illumanti are still within living memory! Where’s the pageantry, the ritual, the grandiosity? The elaborate initiation rituals and oaths of undying loyalty? They’re so pragmatic, so humble, so (and I know I keep coming back to this) modern. It’s just such an utter wasted opportunity. Even beyond the level of aesthetics, these are revolutionaries with remarkably little positive ideology – the oppose colonialism and racism for reasons they take as self-evident and so don’t feel the need to theorize about it (and talk about them with the vocabulary of a modern activist, because of course they do), but they’re pretty much consciously agnostic as to what world should look like instead. They vaguely end up supporting a sort of petty-bourgeois socialism (in the Marxist sense), but the alliance with Luddites is essentially political convenience – they really don’t seem to have any vision of the future at all, either in England or the various places they claim as homelands.

On Empire and Industrialization

The story is set during the early nineteenth century, so of course the Industrial Revolution is a pretty core part of the background. The Silver Industrial Revolution, technically, since the Babellers translation magic is in this world a key and load-bearing part of it. Despite the addition of miracle-working enhancers and supports to its fundamental technology, the industrial revolution plays out pretty identically to history – right down to the same cities becoming hubs of industry, despite steam engines using enchanted silver instead of coal and thus, presumably, the entire economic and logistical system that brought this particular cities to prominence being totally unrecognizable. This is not a book that’s in any way actually about tracing how something would change history – which isn’t a complaint, to be clear, that’s a perfectly valid creative choice.

It does, however, make it rather galling that the single actually significant difference to history is that the introduction of magic turns the industrial revolution into a Legend of Zelda boss with a giant glowing weak point you can hit to destroy the whole enterprise.

On a narrative level, I get it – it simplifies things and allows for a far happier and more dramatic ending if destroying Babel is not just a symbolic act but also literally sends London Bridge falling down and scuttles the entire royal navy and every mill and factory in Britain. It’s just that I think that by doing so it trades away any chance for actually making interesting commentary on anti-colonial and -capitalist resistance. A world where a single act of spectacular terrorism really can destroy a modern empire is frankly so detached from our world that it ceases to be able to really materially comment upon it.

Like, the principle reason to not take the Luddites as your role models is not that they were morally vicious but that they were doomed – capitalism’s ability to repair damage to infrastructure and fixed goods is legitimately very impressive! Trying to force an entire ruling class not to adopt a technology that makes whoever commits to it tremendous amounts of money (thus, power) is a herculean task even when you have a state apparatus and standing army – adding an ‘off’ button to the lot of it just trades all sense of relevance for a satisfyingly cathartic ending.

(This is leaving untouched how the book just takes it as a given that the industrial revolution was a strictly immiserating force that did nothing but redistribute money from artisans to capitalists. Which certainly tracks as something people at the time would have thought but given how resolutely modern all the other politics in the work are rings really weirdly.)

All of which is only my second biggest issue with how the book presents its successful resistance movement. It all pales in comparison to making the Empire a squeamish paper tiger.

Like, the book hates colonialism in general and the British Empire in particular, the narrative and footnotes are filled with little asides about various atrocities and injustices and just ways it was racist or complicit in some particular atrocity. But more than that it is contemptuous of it, it views the empire as (as the cliche goes) a perpetually rotting edifice that just needs one good kick; that it persists only through the myth of its own invincibility, and has no stomach for violent resistance from within. Which is absolutely absurd, and the book does seem to know it on occasion when it off-handedly mentions e.g. the Peterloo Massacre – but a character whose supposed to be the grizzled cynical pragmatic revolutionary still spouts off about how slave rebellions succeed because their masters aren’t willing to massacre their own property. Which is just so spectacularly wrong on every axis its actually almost offensive.

More importantly, the entire final act of the story relies upon the fact that the British Empire would allow a handful of foreign students seize control of a vital piece of infrastructure for weeks on end and do nothing but try to wait them out as the national physically falls apart around them. Like, c’mon, there would be siege artillery set up and taking shots by the end of week two. As with the Oxford students, the Victorian elite had all manner of flaws – take your pick, really – but squeamishness wasn’t really one of them.

On Magic

So the magical system underlying the whole story is – you know how Machinaries of Empire makes imperial ideology and metaphysics literally magical, giving expert technicians the ability to create superweapons and destroy worlds provided that the Hexarchate’s subjects observe the imperial calendar of rites and celebrate its triumphs/participate in rituals glorying in the torture of its ‘heretics’? It’s not exactly a subtle metaphor, but it works.

Babel does something similar, except the foundational atrocity fueling the engine of empire on a metaphysical level is, like, cultural appropriation. As an organizing metaphor, I find this less compelling.

Leaving that aside, the story makes translation literally capable of miracle-working – which of necessity requires making ‘languages’ distinct natural categories with observable metaphysical boundaries. It then sets the story in the 19th century – the era of newborn nation states and education systems and national literatures, where the concept of the national-linguistic community was the obsession of the entire European intelligentsia. Now this is not a book concerned with how the presence of magic would actually have changed history, in the slightest, but like – given how fascinated it is by translation and linguistics you’d think the whole ‘a language is a dialect with a navy’ cliché would at least get a light mention (but then the book doesn’t really treat language as any more inherent or natural than it does any other modern identity category, I suppose.)

As an Allegory

Okay, so having now spent an embarrassing number of words establishing to my own satisfaction that the book really doesn’t work at all as a period piece, let us consider; what if it wasn’t trying to be?

A great many things about the book just fit much better if you take it as a commentary on the modern university with Victorian window-dressing. Certainly the driving resentment of Oxford as an institution that sustains itself and grows rich off the exploitation of international students it considers second-class seems far more apt applied to contemporary elite western schools than 19th century ones. Likewise the racism the heroes face all seems like the kind you’d expect in a modern English town rather than a Victorian one. I’m not well-versed enough on the economics of the city to know for sure, but I would wager that the gleeful characterization of Oxford as a city that literally starts falling to ruin without the university to support it was also less accurate in the 1830s than it is today.

Read like this, everything coheres much better – but the most striking thing becomes the incredible vanity of the book. This is a morality tale where the natural revolutionary vanguard with the power to bring global hegemony to its knees through nothing but witholding their labour are..students at elite western universities (not, I must say, a class I’d consider in dire need of having their egos boosted). The emotions underlying everything make much more sense, but the plot itself becomes positively myopic.

Beyond that – if this is a story about international students at elite universities, it does a terrible job of actually portraying them. Or, properly, it only shows a certain type; just about every foreign-born student or professor we meet is some level of revolutionary, deeply opposed in principle to the empire they work within. No one is actually convinced by the carrot of a life as an exploited but exceedingly comfortable and well-compensated technician in the imperial core, and there’s not really acknowledgement at all of just how much of the apparatus of international institutions and governments in the global south – including positions with quite a bit of real power – end up being staffed by exactly that demographic who just sincerely agree with the various ideological projects employing them. Kuang makes it far too easy on herself by making just about every person of colour in the books one of the good guys, and totally undersells how convincing hegemonic ideology can be, basically.

The Necessity of Violence

This is a pet peeve and it’s a very minor thing that I really wouldn’t bring it up if that wasn’t literally part of the title. But it is, so – it’s a plot point that’s given a decent amount of attention that Griffin (Robin’s secret older brother, grizzled professional revolutionary, his introduction to anti-colonialism) is blamed for murdering one of his classmates who had the bad luck to be studying while he was sneaking in to steal some silver – a student that was quite well-loved by the faculty and her very successful classmates, who have never forgiven him. Later on, it’s revealed that this is an utter rewriting of history, and she’d been a double agent pretending to let herself be recruited into the Hermes Society who’d been luring Griffin into an ambush when he killed her and escaped.

This is – well, the most predictable not-even-a-twist imaginable, for one, but also – just rank cowardice. You titled the book ‘the necessity of violence’, the least you can do is actually own it and show that violent resistance means people (with faces, and names, not just abstractions only ever talked about in general terms) who are essentially personally innocent are going to end up collateral damage, and people are going to hold grudges about it. Have some courage in your convictions!

Translation

Okay, all of that said, this isn’t a book that’s wholly bad, or anything. In particular, you can really tell how much of a passion Kuang has for the art and science of translation. The depth of knowledge and eagerness to share just about overflows from the page whenever the book finds an excuse to talk about it at length, and it’s really very endearing. The philosophizing about translation was also as a rule much more interesting and nuanced then whenever the book tried to opine about high politics or revolutionary tactics.

Anyways, I really can’t recommend the book in any real way, but it did stick in my head for long enough that I’ve now written 4,000 words about it. So at the very least it’s the interesting sort of bad book, y’know?

[sl8yter]

Apparently - Mühl Pt2. to Get It Together

Nika realizes her mistake at the last minute and opens up only to realize she was wrong.

Nika Muhl x Fem Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow twin you’re an asshole” Paiges vocalizes in a brash tone

Nika had come to her friend’s dorm seeking advice on how to proceed after the fallout of her and her girlfriend’s fallout. She had found Paige, KK, and some other teammates hanging out after hours building legos and stuffing their faces with food.

“I dont know what to do. I really do love her I just dont know how to tell her. Nahiem is just a friend she doesnt understand that. She never does.” Nika nervously states as she paces around the table in the middle of the main area as her teammates brain storm solutions for her as they lounge on the couch.

“Okay well first of all stop doing that” KK speaks up

“Doing what?”

“The way you say that she doesn’t understand seems so bashing. Like girl, of course shes gonna kick you out after you talk to her like that. So don’t act surprised” KK’s lack of goofiness acts as a reality check to Nika. Her pacing ends abruptly as she stops to look up and cover her face as an attempt to stop her tears from flowing.

“I could text her to meet up and then Nika could like surprise her with flowers and stuff” Paige says zoning back into the conversation with her faulty solution

“Flowers isnt gonna fix the fact that (yn)s been feeling ignored and how she most likely thinks you’ve been cheating on her. But we can use the first part of Paiges plan. Did you atleast try and text her before you left?” Inês states promptly looking at Nika whos cheeks were wet as she sat down on the couch in between KK and Paige.

“No I came straight here.”

“Oof not good.” Aaliyah butts in

“Why. Please dont make me cry anymore” The Croatian girl says her voice breaking softly towards the end.

“Well if I was her and I already was thinking it. I would personally think that you went to Nahiems. Thats just me though. Maybe (yn) doesn’t jump to conclusions as fast so don’t sweat it.”

“Girl boo, shes already crying about it what do you mean dont sweat it.” KK frankly puts her thoughts out as she wraps an arm around Nikas shoulder, a flimsy attempt to try and comfort the crying girl who’s heart broke a little more with KKs retort.

“I can post to my story and Nika can be in the backround looking all sad.” Paige tries to help

The group looks to Nika who had a contemplating look on her face which contrasted with the pink hue around her eyes and water marks down her cheeks. Her silence deafens the room before she shakes her head up and down.

As Paige takes and post the photo to her instagram story, Nika and the rest of her teamates come up with a plan to try and get (yn) to meet up with Nika in order for them to talk it out. It only takes 20 minutes before (yn) viewed the blondes story and it only took a second for the same blonde to text (yn) to meet up with her at the park 10 minutes away saying it was an emergency.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Paige" I whisper yelled as I walked through out the empty park. Paige had only texted me a cryptic message telling me it was an emergency and to meet her at the park near the dorms.

"Paige come out it's to cold for this." I yelled only slightly louder before a hand had grasped my shoulder causing me to release a yelp and break my neck to look behind me. Only to find the last face I wanted to lay my eyes upon.

"Nika what the fuck are you doing? I thought you were gonna kidnap me. Where's Paige?" I asked, scolding Nika for the scare.

"I couldn't wait until tommorrow to see you. She only texted you so I could meet up with you. Listen to me I-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there before you try to say things I've heard from you a thousand times. I'm tired of us having the same conversations over and over again. It never goes anywhere Nika. Now like I said before go and get some sleep so we can both talk about this with a clear head." I state, exasperated at her mood of just now wanting to talk about things when she had so long to do so.

"Listen to me please bebo you can break up with me, yell at me, or call me every dirty word you know just please let me talk to you. You don't even have to face me. Just hear me." Her voice breaks between most words causing her accent to slip. The begging insanely out of character from the confident girl you usually knew.

"Okay. Just tell me what it is. Tell me why you've been such a dickhead to me." I tell her as I walk to a nearby swing to sit. She quietly trails behind me until I hear the clanking of the metal on the swing adjacent to mine. I refrain from looking over to her as I can feel the intensity of her gaze on my features. If I look, I know I'll cry but I have to let her know in someway that I'm going to stand my ground this time. No matter how much it hurts the both of us.

“Im so so sorry bebo. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen. When we first started dating I seen how amazing you are and how you were so happy all the time and how you always light up a room. Graduating and the draft has been driving me crazy since the start of the year. I felt so pressured to perform my best that I started doubting myself and I started to think that you were too good for me and-“ Her voice breaking as she stops for a moment to catch her breath. She stops looking at me to look at the sights in front of us, her shame showing in her body language

“That I thought I was gonna be a burden to you. Nahiem would help me. We would just go drive around and drink and do all this dumb stuff. It took the edge off and now I see how bad it was. How it lead me to start acting like you weren’t there. I use to think that my biggest fear was not achieving my dreams after I worked so hard for it, for everything. But in truth my biggest fear is achieving all my dreams and you not being there beside me. You’re so selfless that you constantly put up with me no matter how I treated you. I need to treat you better. I want to treat you better. I know I dont show it a lot but i love you more than anything, more than anyone. You believe in me bebo and I love you for it.” She finishes her voice shaky and her eyes somehow pinker than they were before.

“Of course I believe in you. Youre Nika Mühl. My girlfriend and future WNBA star. Youre so much more than you see Nika. Youre the reason I love to love.” I answer, not realizing I was crying as well until a tear drop fell from off my face.

Nika is silent as she wipes her face and quietly clears her throat before looking at me once again.

“You don’t hate me?” Her tender voice somehow making me forgive her within four words.

“I could never hate you. I love you.”

“I love you more” She says before suddenly standing from her seat and lunging at me causing us both to fall into the mulch below us. Her hands hold my waist as my arms wrap around her neck.

“Im so sorry.” Her soft voice fills my ears as the smell of her shampoo invades my brain.

“I forgive you.” Whispering back to the girl on top of me.

“Can I take you to the dorms?” She asks louder this time as she retracts to put her hands on either side of my head to hover above me.

“Only if you stay the night.”

To my response she quickly leans down to capture my lips. I can feel her slightly whimper at the contact. My hands quickly get lost in her hair as she lowers herself to lay between my legs as she continues to assault my lips slightly opening her mouth to encourage me to go farther. I can feel her heart pounding as her chest is flush against mine.

I gently push her off me as I go to sit up, suddenly remembering that it was 2 AM and we were in a public park.

“Take me home and then I’ll see if I want you to go further.” I tell Nika as shes on her knees infront of me, rubbing the sides of my thighs with her large hands.

To my statement Nika swiftly picks me up wedding style and starts jogging to my dorm building. Her antics make me laugh with mirth as I see her small smile, her eyes glancing at me as we lock eye contact for a second that I wish could have lasted forever. Her strength and her athleticism made me thank her coach as it was only helping me in forgiving her completely.

I kiss her cheek softly as she continues her jog.

“I love you so much Nika. I want you to come to me first whenever you have doubts or whenever you start thinking things like that ever again. I love you, I care for you, and I want you to be happy. You mean everything to me.”

She stops jogging for a second to put me down as she grips my waist with speed to pull me into a kiss. Far more passionate than any weve had before. My hands wrapped around her face holding her as if she were glass. Her hands explore my waist, rubbing and squeezing slightly. I caress her jaw moving one hand farther back to play with her hair at the base of her neck.

We both pull back to rest our foreheads against another, our mouths agape catching oxygen as our exhales mix. The lack of space between us was tantalizing as it was obvious both of us wanted more. The only thing stopping us,being our lung capacity and the open space.

“I dont think I can wait much longer for you” Nika admits her eyes dark with a familiar cloud of lust. The breathiness in her voice causing a feeling that Nika was all too well associated with inside my body.

“Then lets hurry up.” I say tauntingly as I knew she was gonna be the one running us both back to bed. I knew she could do it, she knew I could match her pace and run along side her, but we both knew how much hotter it would be if she did all the work and how much better it would be in bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Changed my mind, tried writing a smut for this but then I was like rereading it and ts was so toxic. Oh em gee. Like on a deep level if yall like ts great for you I just cant post something like it n be okay with myself after 😭😭🙏

REQUEST SOME THINGS YALL. DONT BE SCARY!!

[fushiglow]

Gojō Satoru's rude awakening

I'm refusing to let myself seriously entertain the possibility that Gojō can come back after chapter 236. However, that's because I'm trying to protect my future self from disappointment, not because I think it's implausible — and I really want to talk about this image!

A couple of days ago, @runabout-river shared an interesting theory about what might happen next for Gojō. The post itself is well worth a read, but it was the choice of the above image that really set my mind alight. This scene is fresh in our minds after the anime adaptation of Hidden Inventory, and timing is clearly never an accident with Gege Akutami. So, why is it relevant now?

We see Gojō giving himself over to his past, lost in his happy dreams of his youth, only for Megumi — Gojō's first student and a symbol of the future that he envisions — to bring him back to the present by telling Gojō, "You're the one who called us here, please don't go dozing off."

In other words, "You're the one who dragged us into all of this, don't go pretending this isn't reality just because it's nicer in the past."

In my immediate reaction to 236, I said:

Gojō's dying bloody smile shows he's at least happy in his final moments. [...] Although, if Gojō actually is at peace in death, maybe that's the reason Gege will bring him back. He'll *never* let that man be happy, I swear.

It was just a joke, but seeing @runabout-river's post made me realise that Akutami has already set a precedent for 'punishing' Gojō for looking backwards. When he's dreaming about his past, Megumi scolds him and brings him back to the present. When he 'lets his mind wander' to his blue spring in Shibuya, he literally gets locked in a box where time doesn't pass, only to immediately find himself at the bottom of Japan's deepest ocean trench when his students bust him out to fix the problem he created.

As a side note, in both of these moments, the anime adaptation played a melancholy version of Gojō's Limitless theme — the audio representation of Gojō's youth. I'll eat my hat if it doesn't play again when chapter 236 is eventually adapted (I shared some more insights into some of the easter eggs hidden in the season 2 score in my mini review of the Hidden Inventory soundtrack if you wanna read).

If Gojō dies here, looking backwards to his youth, then he's taking the easy way out and that's what I find hardest to swallow about 236. Gojō leaves what is potentially the most difficult conversation he'll ever have — telling Megumi the truth about his father — to Shōko. He leaves his students to deal with the fallout of his failure to cremate Getō's body. He's saddling the people he loves with the responsibilities he leaves behind, and that's not fair.

However, we won't know if that's what's happened for sure until the whole story is told. Gojō doesn't mention his students in this chapter, and lots of people were bewildered that he seems unconcerned about their safety in a world without him. While that could simply be explained by his faith that they've "got it from here", there's a chance that he genuinely didn't think about it and he's about to get a rude awakening as his punishment — hence, "I pray that this isn't just a delusion".

I would *adore* it if Shōko dragged him back to life kicking and screaming, hauling him away from his pleasant fantasy of youth to tell him, 'No, you and Getō don't get to leave me behind to pick up the pieces again'. Because isn't that Shōko as a character? The one who's left to pick up the pieces in their wake? The one to heal the wounds and lay the bodies to rest while everyone forgets she's even there?

It would be the most character development she ever receives, and I'd love to see how Gojō and Shōko's dynamic changes when he's not the 'Strongest' anymore. So, in Shōko's own words:

[bullet-prooflove]

Doing Something: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 '@wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion Piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

It’s the little things you do that Carmy falls in love with. The humorous texts throughout a long day, those light reassuring touches, the way you look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours when you think he’s not watching.

He doesn’t deserve you but that doesn’t stop him wanting to and he knows there’s only one way to do that. He needs to get healthy, to address the demons that scratch at his mind.

That’s how he ends up in therapy talking about the shit he never talks about because he knows if he keeps it all locked up inside then one day it’ll kill him, the same way it killed Mikey.

“I’ve been doing something.” He tells you one night when he’s cooking for you.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, updating the farm’s finances on your laptop before the words filter through to your brain and you incline your head towards him.

“Something illegal?” You question because you know about the coke Richie had to sling that time to get them a new compressor. “If you need money…”

“No.” He says, with a tinge of humour in his voice. “The days of cousin doing  little wheeling and dealing in the back alley are far behind us.”

He’s touched that you’d put up the money though, he would never take it from you but he finds it endearing that you offered. You’ve already done enough with the discounts you give him on the produce, he knows you charge him a fraction of what you do the other restaurants in the area.

“OK.” You say as you raise to your feet. Your hands come to rest on his hips as you stand on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder, your body pressing against his back.  “So what have you been doing?”

“Talking to someone.” He tells you, tilting his head so he can read your expression. “Getting help.”

It’s both exhilarating and terrifying being vulnerable with someone else. He knows that you will never judge him for his failings but there’s always this apprehension sitting in his chest.

“And how is that going?” You ask, your arms slipping around his waist, hugging him close.

“Good, I think.” He says as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I don’t really know yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask him and the edges of his mouth tip up into a smile as he whispers.

“You already are.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee