#but not being as much of a help to their king as they should be maybe isn't so much their fault

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | three

prologue | one | two | three |

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: heavy injures, description of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, bad language, english not being my first language

They look at each other, adrenaline boiling and screaming in everyone's veins. Nimue doesn't take her eyes off Rhysand, but she feels everyone looking at her.

She feels naked, unprotected.

She blinks to get used to all that light. She had never seen so much light and it's beautiful.

Her senses come to life as she lets go of Rhysand's hand, which she had unknowingly been clinging to. She breathes over and over, trying to calm herself, but involuntarily she begins to tremble.

What has she done, what has she done, what has she done.

Father is going to kill her.

Amidst her frenzy of thoughts, Rhysand starts barking orders. She doesn't hear them well, only scattered words: healer, help, house.

Nimue glimpses a huge house to her right, and realizes she has brought them all to the courtyard of a mansion. Around her, everyone seems to spring into action.

The blonde female runs into the house, and seconds later comes out accompanied by another woman, shorter and slighter. She can't tell if she's fae or a creature. When Nimue and her lock eyes, it's like they're looking in a mirror. Both frown but decide to ignore each other.

For Nimue, it's as if everything is happening in slow motion: when she wants to realize, there's another person there, attending to the two injured Ilyrian. A glow emanates from her hands, its warmth reaching the princess's face. A healer, she supposes. She had never seen one.

She fights against her own panic, trying to get used to all the hustle and bustle and all those sounds. The birds flying above her head, the sunlight, the smell of the sea, the smell of pine and cedar, the voices around her, the poor Ilyrian screaming in pain...

She lowers her gaze, and without thinking, she starts speaking: "I can help."

Everyone looks at her again, judging her. They scan her from head to toe.

The two females who were thrown into the Cauldron are to her left, crying and hugging the one who was with Rhysand. Are they sisters? They looked so much alike...

"I can help," she repeats, this time firmer. She starts walking and sees how Rhysand prepares to attack her, "I can heal both of them, if you let me."

She analyzes the High Lord's face, and sees how little by little he is giving in. No one articulates any words, with a simple nod of the male's head, he grants her permission. He has nothing more to lose.

She kneels beside the one with the shattered wings and begins to do what she does with herself and the wounds she has ever suffered: with her magic, she grasps every little nerve ending, every small piece of skin. She pulls them and threads them, weaves them, joins them and separates them as if making a tapestry. So little by little, she shapes the wings of that Ilyrian. It's all pure instinct, what her nature dictates to her.

Father always told her she was his Goddess of Destruction, but Nimue knew deep down that she was capable of fixing, of healing, of bringin good to the world.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, she was piece by piece, shred by shred, joining and repairing the broken wings of that male. When she reached the bones, she simply imagined how they should have originally been: she ordered them to return to their form, to be soldered, and they obediently complied.

With a final grunt from the male, Nimue finished her work. But before she could get up, he grabbed her arm:

"Thank you," he whispered. Nimue is stunned. Thank you?

Had anyone ever thanked her for anything? Had anyone shown her gratitude?

No, her real doubt wasn't that. Had she ever done anything worthy of others' gratitude?

She swallowed her fear and terror, kneeling on the ground. She watched as the male limped away from her and enveloped the blonde female in a hug, how he squeezed her tightly as they both cried on each other's shoulders.

She was so, so lost. Where was she? What was happening around her?

"What a miracle of a girl," the healer whispered. Standing between Rhysand and the slighter female, the more aged-looking woman never took her eyes off her, "You are a Cauldron's blessing. When you're done, I'll need you to teach me how you do that. You are a–"

"Silence, Madja," Rhysand's voice resonates under her feet and in the very mountain, as if he had spoken those words inside Nimue's skull. She shrinks, intimidated. That's the power of a High Lord, "Now him. Heal him.”

She looks away from Rhysand and sets her gaze on the last remaining male.

Kneeling on the ground beneath him is a pool of his own blood and something that seems to be shadows, moving frenetically back and forth. She had never seen anything like it, those... beings, moving around the man. Nimue hears faint noises that she can't quite understand.

Behind her, she feels a presence moving. Rhysand looks down at her, those violet eyes so deep that Nimue feels hypnotized, "Don't just stand there gaping and do what you did to Cassian. Now. Or I'll cut off your head, you filthy Hybern rat."

She nods, and when she turns back to the winged male, he looks back at her. His amber eyes follow every small movement she makes: from the slight tremble of her lower lip to the way she raises her hand.

When he tries to speak, a trickle of blood runs down his lip to his chin, "Touch me and I'll cut off your hands, traitor."

Nimue trembles.

What the hell is she doing? Where has she gotten herself into?

Before she knows it, two streaks of water run down her cheeks. Is she crying? She had never cried before, what a strange sensation.

Her gaze travels to the hands of the male in front of her. He grips a beautiful black dagger, its tip directly aimed at Nimue's chest.

She swallows hard and, in a quick motion, grabs the arrow he has lodged in his chest and pulls it out with all her strength. She has been so fast that the male collapses forward, falling on top of her.

Rhysand and the healer, Madja, take care of getting him off her, and when Nimue tries to touch him again, the High Lord growls at her, "I told you to heal him, not to open up the damn hole in his chest further."

By pure instinct, Nimue snarls back at him, "I am healing him, you idiot. Back off."

Where she found the courage, she doesn't know. But they obey her, and she gets back to work.

The male is lying on his back on the ground, and Nimue places her hand on his chest, where the arrow was previously lodged. She begins to weave again, slowly, thread by thread.

Her gaze rests on his face, which, with closed eyes, lets out the occasional groan between his teeth.

Azriel feels like his chest is on fire. He feels the edges of the wound burning, he feels combustion from within. He takes gulps of air as he struggles not to lose consciousness, and blinded by the pain, he reaches his hand into the air and grabs onto the first thing he finds.

Nimue startles when his hand grabs her elbow, but she lets it be, the touch of his glove is a new, pleasant, and different sensation. She looks back at his face, and in a low voice, she speaks to him, "I'm almost done. Just making sure there's no trace of the poison that the arrow was coated with."

Azriel lets out a growl. He couldn't care less about the explanations. He just wants it to be over already.

The pain reaches the core of his bones and he opens his eyes abruptly, looking at the girl in front of him.

What is that?

Around her, he sees a thread, a small golden rope encircling her: it descends down her shoulders and arms, caresses her wrists and fingers, and wherever her skin meets his, he sees how the thread enters his own body.

Is he hallucinating?

Hasn't he had enough with the arrow between his ribs, that now the poison is making him hallucinate?

Behind the girl, he sees Rhysand, Amren, Cassian, Mor, even damn Madja. He sees how in slow motion their brows furrow, he sees how they lean forward, looking puzzled at something that makes Azriel scared.

"What's going on?" he asks agitated. He tries to sit up on his elbows, but although the pain has already diminished, it still doesn't let him breathe properly, "What are you all looking at like that?"

Nimue furrows her brows as she pushes the man back to the ground so he stays still. She frowns, as she begins to feel something on her fingertips...

Something is not right.

The sensation travels up her forearm and shoulder, and settles in her chest. There inside, like a caged bird, that sensation starts tumbling, back and forth, faster and faster.

She removes her hand from the man's chest and he sits up in front of her, like a spring.

Azriel feels like he's going to explode. What has that witch put inside him? What kind of magic has she used on him?

"What the hell have you done to me?" he shouts. Azriel brings a hand to his chest when that pressure keeps growing.

Nimue mimics him, feeling like her chest is going to burst.

What has she done? Has she made a mistake? Perhaps her magic has betrayed her now for the first time...

She's hyperventilating, and when she feels that, indeed, she's going to explode like a firework, she looks into the eyes of the male in front of her.

And then everything suddenly calms down.

They stare at each other, stunned, not knowing what to say. Their breaths come together, equally fast and choppy.

And when their bodies stop vibrating and calm down, she feels it there.

There's something, something pulling her towards...

Towards him.

Azriel jumps to his feet, as if they hadn't just removed a poisoned arrow from his chest or he hadn't just lost liters and liters of blood. He finds Truth Teller in its usual place and with a practiced motion after years and years of battles, he grabs the girl by the collar of her clothes and lifts her up like a feather. The dagger rests comfortably against her neck, and she does nothing but look back at him, wide-eyed.

"Azriel!" Rhysand shouts. He ignores his High Lord, although every fiber of his being tells him to obey him, "Azriel, let her go!"

Then, Nimue comes to her senses. With a practiced movement, the winged male is kneeling on the ground again. The pretty black dagger is now in her hand, while with the other she pulls back his hair.

Azriel doesn't know when all this happened. He just knows that he blinked and now he's the prey. He clings to the girl's hand pulling his hair and tries to break free, but he can't understand how such a small woman can have the strength of a thousand men.

"Now I'm going to let go of you and you're not going to attack me. Understood?" She utters each word slowly, as if speaking in another language.

Nimue takes a step back, releasing the dagger, which falls to the ground with a dull thud.

Azriel stands up, and in a leap, he's next to Rhysand in an attack position.

Before Nimue, everyone present is on high alert. Some in attack position, others simply ready for whatever may happen.

The first to speak is Azriel, with the same accusatory tone as before, "What have you done to me? Undo it." He's trembling, and Nimue can't tell if it's from fear or from the pure rage she sees in his face.

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't undo it, because she herself doesn't know what has happened.

What is that pulling her? What is that feeling in her chest, an anchor dragging her toward that winged male?

Everyone remains silent, looking at each other.

However, it's Rhysand who speaks first, the voice of reason in a desperate situation, "Let's all calm down."

Because he doesn't know if he's the only one who sees it, who feels it. That sudden change in the air. It smells like cedar and mist, like Azriel. But if he pays attention, he smells the sea salt and the sweetness of poison in the air. The scent that the girl in front of them emits. It's intoxicating and chilling at the same time. He couldn't say.

What he can say, however, is what he sees crystal clear. Azriel's essence, mixed with that of the unknown girl. He sees how both mingle in the air.

And then, Rhysand would swear that he stopped hearing Azriel's heartbeat next to him.

"My mate," his friend whispers. His face, a complete expression of surprise, something that the Shadow Singer rarely showed, "She's my mate.”

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @donttellthecats

A/N:I really hope you are all enjoying it. Every kind of support is greatly appreciated, and thank you so much to those who already support it!! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know 🥰

#azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand #cassian #azriel fanfic #azriel fic

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Brand New One Shot - First Preview

It’s time for a new one shot! I promise I will finish “Dress Up” in the very near future but I wanted to get a jumpstart on this! No active warnings for this preview, but there is a very very subtle hint to something naughty if you squint lol

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, he was kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those month ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meet, and ever since then it was nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. It was late, way later than you should be awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most night, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Laying awake in your bed wasn’t helping these thoughts, but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fire place, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fire place, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly, but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #my writing #preview #oh where could this be leading :) #if you know the prompt this was based on you know exactly where it’s leading haha

[debonairprincesposts]

Absolutely loved your Lucifer x Son reader!! Can we get a part 2? Im eager to see how Charlie and the gang may react!

Hello Anon! Here’s my take on what would’ve happened in the aftermath. As requested. Wasn’t really planning on making more content relating to this Au, but here we are! This is the last one, I hope. The gang haven’t met (Name) so they won’t be included in this.

Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

Lucifer was basically contemplating every bad decision he's ever made in his life as he stares at the face of his unconscious son.

He barely managed to save (Name)’s wing by reattaching it, but it'll take a while before it's usable again.

Coat and hat off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair disheveled from running his fingers through it in his moment of stress.

Eyes rimmed red from crying, cheeks stained with tears as he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the heavy feeling you usually get from crying so much.

He practically started having a mental breakdown the moment he knew that (Name)’s life wasn’t in any immediate danger. It wasn’t until a few minutes ago that he finally calmed down.

Sitting on a chair next to his son's bed, Lucifer sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He hasn't told Charlie yet. He doesn't really know how he should go about explaining what happened at the palace without freaking her out.

Wounds inflicted by angelic steel take longer to heal. He doesn’t know how long it would take for (Name) to wake up. It’s been about 3 hours since the attack, and he’s been restless ever since.

Still no sign of movement from (Name) as he lays motionless on his bed. The only way Lucifer could tell that he’s even still alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Running his fingers through his hair as he stood up from his chair, reaching for his phone in his pocket, he hesitated to call Charlie. He didn’t know how to disclose the situation to her. There’s no easy way of doing this. I mean- how do you go about telling your child that her brother could possibly end up in a coma after being attacked by bloodthirsty psycho angels! That’s ridiculous! Everything about this is ridiculous! He’s ridiculous! He’s literally the King of Hell! He should’ve done more to ensure the protection of his son! If he just had the time to construct a barrier around his home then maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. If he hadn’t been in a hurry to go save Charlie, he would’ve given it more thought. The fact that (Name) would be left defenseless all by himself with no one to help him. It’s basically a miracle that he even managed to survive all by himself. What with his inexperience in life or death fights. What kind of father would he be if he can’t even protect his children from harm! An incompetent one, he thinks.

His hands shake as he grips his phone. Taking a deep breath, he presses on Charlie’s contact and hopes that everything goes well.

“Dad! Thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been trying to call you ever since you left in a hurry earlier- Is everything alright?” Just hearing Charlie’s voice over the phone makes him want to cry again.

He swallows the lump in his throat, “I-I’m okay, sweetie! It’s just- uhh,” just say it dammit! That’s her brother! She needs to know! “It’s (Name). He- he’s not doing good at the moment.” He cringes at his attempt.

“What?! Is he okay?! What happened?”

“He-,” his throat felt dry as he swallowed, “the palace was attacked.”

“WHAT?! Is (Name) okay?!” Her panicked voice could be heard over the phone. He tried to breathe properly to not breakout into another panic attack. “Dad?! Why aren’t you saying anything?!! You’re scaring me!”

“He’s-,” he winces at the break in his voice before clearing his throat, “He’s okay now! I managed to get here on time before he-,” his voice cracked again as tears wells up in his eyes.

The other side of the line goes silent for a bit. Charlie most definitely heard his pathetic attempt at trying to compose himself.

He clears his throat again, “His wounds are healing. But I don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He settled with. His voice raspy from crying.

On the other side of the line, Vaggie was standing next to Charlie, comforting her as she processes the information she just received. It was just them two in the lobby. Everybody else was either out or resting in their new rooms.

“Do you need me to come over, Dad?” Charlie asks.

“No need for that, apple pie- I’ll stay here until he recovers. You need to stay at your hotel. I can handle it. Promise.”

“Okay,” she swallows, forcing back her tears, “Call me if you need to. Okay, Dad?”

“Of course. Goodbye, sweetie.”

“Bye-,” he hangs up.

“Everything okay, babe?” Asks Vaggie, “You seem pretty worried.”

“Worried? Me? Pshh- no! Not at all! I mean- it’s not like the angels attacked my Dad’s castle and put my brother in a coma!-,” Charlie rambles.

“What?!” Vaggie yells in shock, “Is he okay?”

“Dad said that he’s okay. (Name)’s just resting-,” Charlie starts pulling at her hair. “Why would they attack him! He didn’t have anything to do with any of this!”

Vaggie doesn’t say anything. She just takes Charlie by the hand and takes her to their room as Charlie continues to worry about her brother. Which is valid cuz like- (Name)’s her brother-

When they reach their room, Vaggie takes Charlie by the hand and leads to bed.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s got your father’s blood flowing through his veins, no? He’ll wake up before you know it- Trust me.”

Charlie sniffles, “You really think so?”

Vaggie nods, “I know so. Now- why don’t we rest and cuddle. We’ve had a long day. I think we deserve some rest, don’t you think?”

Vaggie then helps Charlie change into pajamas as they both lay in each other’s arms in bed.

“Feeling better?” Vaggie asks.

Charlie nods, “I just hope he wakes up soon.” As they both continue cuddling in bed.

Imma be honest y’all. This isn’t my best work. Didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped. Kinda lost motivation half way through. Not sure if you can tell. But anyway! Here’s how I thought it would go. Hope y’all like it! Stay healthy and keep hydrated! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

Bye babes!

-DebonairPrince

Help support your favorite author by buying them a ko-fi!

#hazbin angst #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar #charlie x vaggie #dad lucifer #lucifer angst #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x male reader #x reader #vaggie #charlie magne #x male reader #male reader #reader insert

[eufezco]

civil war!bucky x fem!reader ( angst , fluff ) no use of y/n

based on the captain america: civil war post credits scene

a / n : english is not my first language so yeah 😭 also my request are open for mavel characters (especially bucky and steve)

You had doubted whether to go or not.

You had been up almost all night, the dark circles under your eyes spoke for themselves. You tried to get some sleep but it was impossible. You moved nervously in bed from side to side. After not finding a comfortable position, you got up and started walking around your room in an attempt to calm your nerves but the four walls were suffocating you.

Steve found you throwing up in the bathroom, on your knees, and with tears in your eyes. He held your forehead so you could let it all out and then wiped your mouth. Steve gave you enough time to recompose and when you were done, he sat on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and let you lean against his chest while you sobbed. You should let him sleep, it had been a long day for everyone, your bodies were still aching from the fight and Steve had enough to worry about. But despite all that, Steve's strong arms held you tightly close to his body, as if he was trying to hold back the part of you that he knew would leave with Bucky.

Steve took you in his arms and carried you to the couch where he placed your head on his lap, wrapped you in a blanket, and caressed your hair until you fell asleep. When you woke up, Steve wasn't home.

You had doubted whether to go or not but in the end, you went because if you didn't, you would never forgive yourself.

—Hi.

—Hey —. Bucky let out all the air he'd been holding in, relieved to see you.

When Steve arrived and you weren't coming with him, Bucky couldn't help but feel bad. He knew it could happen and he didn't blame you for it. You had already lost him twice, you weren't going to take one more, you didn't deserve to go through that again. The idea of being away from you again did not appeal to him either.

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't surprised to see you. Last night you let it all out in the toilet and on his shirt, and you got some sleep, so he figured you would have regained your strength. Or at least you would pretend that you had, the thing was, that he knew you were coming. —I'll go and talk to King T'Challa —. He said and walked out, leaving you and Bucky alone.

You slowly approached the gurney where Bucky was sitting. The metal arm was gone and only the part attached to his shoulder remained. His wounds were treated and on his face, you could finally see a peaceful expression. His brows were not furrowed, his jaw was not clenched, instead he was showing you a sad little smile.

—How are you—? How are you doing?

—I'm good. I'm ready. How are you? —He asked back.

—I'm fine I guess.

After your answer there was silence.

Bucky knew you were lying because of your tone of voice. He was aware of your disagreement with his decision. Steve also had asked him many times if that was what he wanted but this was not about what he wanted or not. Now that he had reclaimed his ability to choose, he had to use it to do what was right, and what was right was to go back to sleep until there existed a way to free him completely from the Winter Soldier program.

—Buck, you know you don't have to do this.

He shook his head at your words. Of course you wouldn't stop trying.

—I can't trust my own mind. —You were going to complain again but he talked before you could. —And as much as I would like to make up for all the time we've lost, I have to do this. Until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.

Now it was you shaking your head. For everybody but you. After all these years you had finally gotten him back, after thinking he was dead, after fighting your friends defending his innocence, you were going to lose him again.

Without saying a word you placed your hand on top of the one he had resting on his leg. The sad smile appeared on his lips again and he looked down at your hands. The touch of your fingers on his skin felt nothing like the human contact he had been experiencing these past few years. Your touch was gentle, your fingers rested on his hand delicately, as if you were afraid of breaking him. It was the first time in a while that anyone had cared about that. Bucky flipped his hand over to link your fingers together.

Using your free hand you lifted his chin and you not only made him look at you but also made his lips at the perfect height for you to kiss them. You pressed your lips against his, he squeezed your hand. Yours moved from his chin to rest on the side of his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek. You didn't know how or when you started crying but you felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks until they mixed with the kiss. Bucky felt the salty taste and after a few seconds, he broke away from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours and let your hand go to cup your cheek and wipe your tears.

—You are making this very hard —. He mumbled against your mouth.

You kissed him again because it was either that or trying to convince him one last time not to do it. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, god, if only he had his two arms and could touch you and feel you the way he wanted. Bucky's lips gladly kissed you back one more time, until you both heard Steve fake coughing behind you.

You parted ways, already missing the feeling of his lips and hand on you. Steve came with two nurses and you knew that it was time. You felt your legs weakening but you could not break down in front of Bucky so you hugged yourself and hid yourself in Steve's chest. Your friend wrapped one of his arms around your body.

—She'll be fine. I'll take care of that.

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded, thanking Steve.

—I'll wait for you —. You said and Bucky flashed you one last smile. He hadn't asked you to because he didn't want to be selfish but he was waiting for you to tell him so. Hearing you say that you’ll wait for him gave him the peace of mind he needed to breathe in the cold gas filling the cryostasis chamber.

#marvel #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier x you #winter solider x reader #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the avengers #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel angst #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #the falcon and the winter soldier

[katarasmomsnecklace]

I wanna talk about all my fav ATLA ships cuz being a multishipper can suck sometimes

I wanna look at ship tags and not see hate for another ship in them

SPREAD THE LOVE

KatAang: Classic friends to lovers. Couples who commit ecoterrorism together stay together

TAang: She was a punk He did ballet what more can I say. But like actually they're so fun to analyze with what we have in canon, they legit give soulmate vibes.

ZuTara: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART another fun one to analyze, opposites attract/enemies to lovers it's a good time

KaToph: They're defined by overcoming their "weaknesses" Katara fought for her right to be a master despite her gender and became one of the most powerful benders because of her will to fight. Toph literally invented a whole new bending style BECAUSE of her blindness. Love them

MaiLee: Bad bitches deserve bad bitches, we love a sunshine and sunshine protector. They're fighting styles compliment each other as do their personalities

MaiKo: 'I love Zuko more than I fear you" will never not be the hardest line in the show. *doesn't care she got pickles* "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU SHE SAID NO PICKLES"

Ty Luki: I just want Suki to show TyLee the ropes of being a kyoshi warrior. The have so much they can teach each other also if you like the Airbender! TyLee headcanon there's something poetic about her unlocking her powers with kyoshi's fans

YueTara: MOON AND OCEAN NEED I SAY MORE

ZUe (I actually don't know their ship name) we in rare pair hell but SUN AND MOON NEED I SAY MORE also applies to Yue x Azula you guys come up with the coolest scenarios that put the either fire sibling in the north pole, this fandom is so creative

ZuKKi: Let Sokka pull lol but actually a King and His Guard and King and his Ambassador, it's like Sukka is great but make it better

Mai TyLee and Suki should be a bigger ship cuz I swear I'm the only one that sees it (help me name them)

Tell me about your favorite ATLA ships I freaking love these characters and I love when they love each other

#katara #zuko #aang #toph #yue #sokka #suki #mai #ty lee #azula #rare pair #ot3 #ships #multishipper #atla #avatar the last airbender #ship analysis #kataang #taang #katoph #zutara #mailee #maiko #ty luki #yuetara #zue #zukki #zuki #sukka

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

#possramble #ignore this im just babbling but #the thing is that like. i don't ship laios and marcille together. their relationship is so so important to me in that laios comphets himsel #and THINKS that he might be in love with her but he isn't and that's my insane obsession #platonic soulmates for real but they're so sweet together that i fully expect them to be shipped together #like i get it. that's almost the appeal for me. if dungeon meshi were any other series there'd be an epilogue where they get married #convention dictates that they're meant to be together as the male protagonist and his beloved female deuteragonist #but dungeon meshi DOESNT do that and i love it so fucking much they're the comphet besties ever for my strange little brain #like if i ever did an arranged marriage au it would absolutely be laios and marcille having a platonic political marriage and then just #the most insane mutual pining with marcille and falin while laios and marcille struggle their way into becoming best friends #the imagery of the king and his beautiful court mage being tender to each other and everyone thinking they're in love is like catnip to me #like yeah they'd be like that and have no idea people think they should be together and the subversion makes me so obsessed #the more people ship them romantically. the more i enjoy their platonic dynamic it's like some sort of weird comphet fetishism idk #people think they're in love and im outside the window like YES... YES!!! #but also the second i see stuff of them kissing on the mouth or fucking im like oh god no i went too deep in here i gotta get out #don't wanna see that. i'll go feral over the idea of laios and marcille being arm-in-arm like king and queen but they would not fuck. #i want marcille to be his default comphet beard and dance partner/plus one at official royal events but they're not kissing. #she's there on his arm because he's scared of the other noble women tryna get him and being a baby about it #and people see them muttering to each other and laughing and generally being very sweet and think that they're dating but they're not. #she's actually covered in hickies from falin underneath her dress and is gonna get dragon dicked right after the party is over #like she's in her bedroom and falin's helping her take her ridiculous dress off while listening to her complain about politics #and falin is the person she goes home to the person she falls asleep to and wakes up with #they're a triad of utter devotion to each other but only farcille's side of the triangle is romantic #it's almost like an open secret because they're not trying to hide it at all but people assume and are surprised to find out #like people are so right about her relationship with the toudens but with the siblings' roles switched #love of her life & irreplaceable life companion. does anyone get it #anyway. i don't know what's wrong with me #it bothers me that they're not the undisputed most popular het ship for marcille on ao3 #it's unnatural. marcille being paired with any other man should be a fringe case.

[dnangelic]

sometimes i think abt towa and argentine in the very last manga chapter n cry

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT. #waaaa waaaa my lucifer my boy-king and the respect and power he doesn't even want but deserves sm #dark wouldnt want towa n argentine's help if he could go without it!! all his theft has been bc he cared #n its the fact he n dai care tht they genuinely deserve the sort of trust respect n acknowledgement from the niwa fam #that the rest of the world who doesnt properly or intimately know the likes of dark n dai doesnt afford them #i justttt wooooughhhh towa argentine gratefully graciously bowing themselves with fealty #to dark who's always been bearing all this insane burden and self-expectation alone #all by himself #afraid even of that solitude but nevertheless doing everything he could for the sake of #what he felt was right saving the artworks saving precious things even if he had to steal them away and disparage himself #more and more (the more he succeeds the more he disgraces himself as a villain and a criminal) #aaaa waaaa INNER NIWA FAM CHARAS r just so special.... THEY GET TO SEE IT ALL... #how heavy the pressure is on dark n dai both actually despite the superficial layers like elmroot says #the 'outer self' that enjoys being a phantom thief and then the inner that 'hunts his own kind' #how tired dark is sometimes... #well. w/e. point is niwa fam chara writers who ever take this into account ill kiss u forever #dark can be annoying or behave in spoiled/lazy/belligerent ways sometimes but it rlly makes him and dai more like the #rebel angel leader / boy king example i try to write them as. they still care ofc they doooo #it's just they're the equivalent of the highest seat holding together their little country #their miniature empire that dark n the niwa have built up over yrs n yrs n yrs!! #dark never claims himself a king or a prince he doesn't throw his weight or titles around like that #but between paradise lost and POTO's occasional angel of darkness/PRINCE of darkness #the vibes are there in between the lines. they r right there. this dude has so much hes taking responsibility for #even though he doesn't even Have To. but in doing so- he is. and SHOULD rightly be supported #in the manner of someone in service demonstrating loyalty to him #ok. ramble over

[rawliverandgoronspice]

ganondorf in descant: okay sure I snapped at fate a few times but I am also very understandable + tragic so can you really blame me

gerudos in the background: *on the verge of tears, stress-drinking and trying to prevent him from getting murdered every 5 seconds while avoiding literal extinction themselves* sure my king whatever you say

#ganondorf #tloz #descant of greatness #unhallowed vespers #gerudo #the last part of the trilogy will be uhhhh illuminating I think #about some stuff he maay not have focused on nearly as much as he should have maybe :) :) #I llllove some messy dorf + gerudos relationship where both parties kind of made the bed and both parties have to lie in it #I mean #the blame really rests on hylians/the goddesses for making gerudos cosmically lesser #but that doesn't absolve suffocating levels of pressure from one side and brutal abuse of power from the other #and also twinrova sweeping in being all like aww look at you being the greatest thing that ever lived nothing matters but you btw #let's not examine how every single king we served/raised before died performing heroics that ultimately didn't help anyone <3 #or that our vision for what gerudos should be MAY be very biased and outdated and seeping with longing and resentment <3 <3 #me as a fic author is really about finding that fictional culture I really love and think has been wronged by canon #and then go OKAY LET'S FOCUS ON THE FLAWS!!! MAKE THEM WORSE!!! WORSE!!!!!! #and still insist the culture deserves humanity and salvation regardless of the imperfection #I try at least

[vulpinesaint]

desperately trying to remember if there are any books i read this year that i cannot find on my library borrowing history or simply cannot remember. i am so bad about remembering books. LITERALLY REMEMBERED ONE AS I'M WRITING THIS POST. anyway i am attempting to compile a list of books that i've read this year so that i can reference it without having to forget everything. wish me luck. i have fifteen titles on there right now but i can't shake the feeling there's something i'm forgetting

#checking my shelf of books i got for school??? idk #none of this is helped by the way that i have seven thousand books waiting to be read right now and all of them are on my mind #and several of them i am partway through. but i cannot put bell hooks all about love on my list yet i just can't #opened this is how you lose the time war today. not liking it super much but it's not even 200 pages so we'll pound through it #and then my three books from merc (princess bride and two books from the fight club guy) #and all about love. and interview with the vampire #WITCHER NOVELS!!! I READ WITCHER NOVELS AGAIN!!!! adding two more books to my list #god i'm not even through blood of elves yet. awful. this is why i can't keep anything up i forget my ebooks exist as options #then i should read that book about eleanor roosevelt that my grandma got me. as a token to her dskfjghs #wanna reread the hours! have a physical copy just for that so i can annotate #gotta finish the once and future king. #all that to say that there are many books that will be on this list once i actually sit down and read some of them #have to remind myself that i Am actually doing good i'm at over a book a month rate. this is fine #two books a month rate! actually! #shout out to library due dates for being a fantastic motivator #seventeen books on the 'read' list this year. this is fine bracken. you're doing good #realistically this is SO much better than previous years 😭 good stuff. just gotta keep reading #valentine notes #list that would have been so useful to have when we were doing that book recommendation thing

[jumpscaregoose]

Please tell me about the single piece of foreshadowing takei tried to do and how it really didn't work

I recommend everyone sit and watch this before reading to really get the experience of me writing this post

to quote my past self, this scene (two pages actually) doesn't really work as foreshadowing because "I'm either too aromantic or yaoipilled to understand"

here's the pages in question btw:

so this scene is basically saying "having a family and support system will probably help your self hatred problem" like that's the goal. and unless takei is entirely incompetent (which he isn't) this is supposed to explain the Getting Straight Married thing

I might be too aromantic for this but not only is this scene vague as hell, it also immediately cuts to all the friends ren made throughout the manga. which is actually like, thematically relevant? with how the manga talks about loneliness and connection and how the demons he fears work?

the second way you can interpret this scene against canon is a lot less interesting it's just Why Are You Looking At Your Rival Like That, which is pretty self explanatory and also unintentional

staring at this for so long I really think I might just be too aro to understand this scene beyond "takei needed an explanation for Something he was planning" and I really don't think that something was jeanne specifically. this is bad. that is not how you write good romance. I wasn't even sure they existed until yesterday but renmei shippers I am so sorry canon has put you through so much

#shaman king #I know structurally what this scene was trying to do #but really it did not do its job #the closest any of ren's canon relationships from the main manga get to being actually romantic is yoh. fight me (please don't) #jelly and I were talking about this recently and I hit him with the aspec beam he's aspec to me now #this does not help that scene at all btw #jeanne... my poor girl... ignored by her own foreshadowing... #I've done too much hatering I should talk about something good next

[todayisafridaynight]

I think the reason why Anon asked what a narative foil for Ichiban would look like is mainly due to Aoki being the Nishiki to his Kiryu, a dark parallel rather than full 100% opposites. Basically they were askin’ “What would this trilogy’s Ryuji look like” since Ryuji was a genuine attack on everything Kiryu stood for and had literally NOTHING in common with him aside from his position as a “dragon.” But since we know RGG ain’t gonna make a homage to Ryuji, the anon was probably curious about what kind of dickwad would a full on narrative foil of Ichi look like?

well i mean. i kinda have to reiterate that aoki is exactly a direct contrast to ichi. EVERYTHING about him contradicts him: his design, his morals, his motivations, his personality, his place in society, his upbringing, his relationships- he's about as anti-ichiban as it can get. man points it out himself when he compares aoki to the light and himself as the darkness

i couldn't come up with a more apparent foil to ichiban than aoki if i tried

#snap chats #because aokis is also a 'genuine attack on everything' ichiban stands for and has nothing in common with him #just because aoki is supposed to be the stand in for nishiki that doesnt mean they're note-for-note the same in relation to their protags #like nishiki isnt a foil to kiryu its as you said hes more of a dark parallel #but quite literally everything about aoki contradicts ichiban #they even have the common ground of being coin locker babies- just as ryuji and kiryu are both 'dragons' in the yakuza world #also i dont think we should assume that ichiban's games are gonna be similar to kiryus #in that there's a sort of 'three kings' of antagonists yk what i mean #like aoki served the same purpose as nishiki- in my belief- to help make the cast transition yk #we're in familiar territory but it's still very much its own thing

[meowstix]

god honestly ok yeah that fucking. podcast-esc thing i found, which is a 2-hour talk about yugioh sevens between some people (as i've mentioned one of them is someone who i've actually seen on here before so i def wasn't expecting that) is actually getting my brain into really good. writing about v-force headspace yaknow.

#i really do think honestly. considering kane and his team ended up kind of being the actual main beybladers when it comes to psykick #just like. having that be established earlier on probably could've helped #because the saint shields are probably the closest we get to a rival team for most of the series and they're very much on their own #we do get king and queen way later on but again. they really just should have been introduced earlier on #rat chat

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

#on holiday I was like oHHHHH this is what living in the moment is! What listening to your body is! what not worrying about how you look is #but doing what makes you happy #and then …… I came home and got sent the pictures #+ my friend being. unintentionally fatphobic as fuck #while hurtful as fuck too #and it’s all just been piling up too since I got home because I’ve been having a lot of conversations and seeing a lot of people that #confront me with who I used to be and who I am now and how I’m really not happy with that #and it feels like it’s not gonna get better #like I’m destined to be in a job I like but isn’t what I want because I’m not capable enough and I’ll never know what romantic requited love #feels like. I’ll never cure my vaginismus I’ll never be able to let someone in or they won’t want me this is just it for me #and SOMEHOW the way I look has become the ultimate culmination of all those things? #my face is suddenly a woman in her thirties face #I keep gaining weight despite not even eating all that much because FUCKING PCOS makes it impossible #my hair in my face grew back. my stomach is hairy and that plus the added beer belly just makes it look like I’m a 50 year old man #I am soooooooo tired of the dysphoria #and the way pcos ruins fucking everything because I can restrict calories all I want and move all I want but will it help ? No ! #and of the fact that it impacts the way I feel about myself so much because I’m convinced now I’ll never find anyone #should have tried harder when I was 21 because that was the only time in my life I reasonably fit society’s standards like That was my shot #I’ve been taking supplements everyone says will help but I’m not sure I noticed anything in the past six months and I can’t take berberine #because it fucks with my heart medication. which. That too. I have that too #and I’m in pain! All the time now! ALL THE TIME so I can’t even work out to keep the weight stable because guess what ? #just after a normal day at the office I come home and have to lie down because everhthing hurts so much ! #today I got an impromptu massage in an attempt to feel better but it didn’t fix shit and I had to buy clothes for kings day after #and I didn’t try them on just quickly grabbed some orange shit to try on at home and at what I saw in the mirror I genuinely got nauseous #I just don’t know who that is in the mirror but it’s not me and I can’t accept it. I’ve been trying so hard but I can’t #it genuinely makes me so sad and I keep telling myself that a reduction will help in feeling more like myself and it will help with the pain #but what if it doesn’t? what if my pain doesn’t go away after af all and my stomach just juts out and I feel like a gremlin all the time #what then. what the fuck do we do then. also I’m so fucking scared of that surgery anyway that I don’t fucking want to do it anymore #I want so many things and all of them feel out of reach and I know my own brain is my worst enemy and it’s not rooted in anything real but. #Isn’t it? really — isn’t it???????

[hauntingblue]

Can't believe I spent so much time thinking kiku and kinemon were dead... they really got me there...

#damn izo...... can we get back to that i do not care that much about raizo and this guy... #AND WHAT IS GOING ON AROUND THE WORLD??? damn the reverie..... and sabo #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 1063 #also the thing i said episodes ago about kaido being luffys foil because he loves fighting and they smile all the time... and then we get #king saying he thinks he is joyboy bc he saved him.... but the difference of those new worlds they imagine and how kaido wants to die and #luffy the complete opposite.... yeah yeah #toko..... and this swordmaker man just adopting little girls... he is the father that stepped up (multipile times) #kaido just having a drink.... he is just having some fun... fighting and drinking... average friday night for him... thats his love language #it is his love language... he said he just accepted him aldjsks i was just saying shit... see he is just having some fun witj his peer #luffy was so confused with all this he got hit akdhsks first person ever to bamboozle him..... #drunk kadio is so fun to watch.... crying about his son escaping and how everything goes wrong ajdkskskk #his impulsivity and like unpredictability just make him better while drunk akdhsksjk luffy should try shrooms if thats what he prefers.... #what devil fruit???? also get robin's name out of your mouth!!!!!! OH ZOU!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE #IT'S LUFFYS DEVIL FRUIT.... WHICH HAS ANOTHER NAME....... WONDER WHY HMMM...🤔🤔 #also kaido saying luffy likes him too much.... that's another secret fruit JAHSJAHA #episode 1064 #zoro just bleeding out on the floor... nvm he died... well... there are other swordsmen.... this looks like an impressionist film #zoro doesnt get it... he is powerless against death.... #IZO NOOO!!!! HE GOT STABBED!!! jesus.... MARCO HELP!!! MARCOOOO WHAT IS HE DOING #THE FUCKING CP0 NO!!! WHAT??? well i respect that decision... leave him alone get a job etc. NOOOOO YOU WON'T WIN!!! #do not make a deal with them either... izo..... #love how traffy and kid have each one (1) woman on their crew. its not ooking good on the diversity office #mugiwara no chibi.... exacty..... also how is big mom tired... i mean i get it but damn.... LAW GOT HER!!! YEAAHHH!!! FINISH HER!!! #law needs to cut her to pieces like he did with that guy.... come on.... punk corna DIO??? omg its a bull.... BUT IMPALE HER!!! #well i see progress now at least.... but until kid magnetos her ass idk... law needs to start cutting also....... #episode 1065

[homunculus-argument]

And speaking of scurvy, I am eternally amused by the thing where some ancient form of healing that was born in a time where people didn't know exactly how the human body works, or what causes it to stop working sometimes, that still somehow worked. Like how so many old folk medicinal plants were listed as a cure for various ailments that - from a modern view - are clearly just symptoms of scurvy, and the plant itself is rich in vitamin C.

I recall reading some story, no recollection of the exact time or place, where the king of a large empire suffered from constant horrible headaches and was incapable of falling asleep unless drugged or blackout drunk. Sick of taking temporary fixes to dull the pain and having to be sedated every night, he called up some old sage healer who was said to know how to fix things nobody else could explain, and the healer heard his symptoms and went

"Hmm. You spend too much time being a king. Your skull is packed so full of kingly thoughts that they don't all fit in there and that's why your head is in pain. You need to spend time not being a king." And prescribed him to schedule three days every month where he must go to a peasant village where nobody knows he's the king, live with a family there under a fake name and identity, work in the rice fields with them, eating the same food and sleeping on the same mats. Absolutely nobody is allowed to address him as the king, speak to him of any royal or political matters, and he himself is not allowed to think any kingly thoughts or think of himself as the king.

And naturally, this worked. Taking a regular scheduled break from a highly stressful office desk job to completely decompress, paired with physical exercise in the form of hard but simple physical labour, plain and simple food and Just Not Thinking About Your Fucking Job All The Time does help chronic stress, which here was worded as "spending too much time being a king clogs your brain."

Sometimes you do have ghosts in your blood, though I'm not entirely sure whether you should do cocaine about it.

[fursasaida]

This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:

Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:

Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.

[...]

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.

But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”

What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.

The article goes on to discuss:

"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion

A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"

The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance

Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels

And finally, in closing:

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

#south africa #apartheid #colonialism #palestine