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cienie-isengardu · 5 months

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Everyone talks about Bi-Han being gullible/stupid etc for believing Shang Tsung + being manipulated by him. But Bi-Han sided with Shang Tsung because he wanted to break the Lin Kuei free from Liu Kang's control. He only accepted the alliance when he saw the Dragon Army and thought they actually had a good chance of winning. Meanwhile it's crickets on Hanzo "I killed your brother for no reason" Hasashi who got played by Quan Chi the man who actually killed his family & clan and whom Scorpion still grovels to. Not to mention that Raiden said he would try to get Hanzo's family restored if he didn't kill Bi-Han and this loser did it anyway. And this is only the tip of the iceberg for how much jackassery this fool pulls across every game. Yet Bi-Han is the irredeemable evil asshole because he *checks notes* says some mean things to his brothers >:( and some of this is done as Noob Saibot which btw loops back to Hanzo because Bi-Han wouldn't have ever become Noob if Hanzo hadn't killed him.

I think the most gullible person in MK1 was in fact Shang Tsung himself, who for some reason believed that a powerful mysterious being showing up out of nowhere would willingly share her power with him. Talk about a new level of naivety!

I have a theory of mine, that Titan Shang Tsung gave enough information about (previous timeline) Sub-Zero to his younger version, because breaking Lin Kuei from Liu Kang’s control was a personal matter to him. Like yes, it would weaken his enemy and bring the planned chaos and “evilness” into the timeline he despited, but looking at the fact how Lin Kuei in majority of source material was an assassin clan with a strong, old-centuries ties to Shang Tsung, it feels to me likely that "reclaiming" the Lin Kuei was a matter of honor to him. Double so, as some sources went so far and presented elder Sub-Zero if not outright the favorite then one of favorite assassins working for the sorcerer. Frankly, as the story mode shows alone, “Damashi” talked and warned both Shang Tsung and Quan Chi about Lin Kuei before Sub-Zero even met any of them, so there was some behind-the-scenes preparation done and for all we know Bi-Han was targeted by the evil Titan before the main events even unfolded.

As for Bi-Han, right now he has this misfortune to be blamed and hated for everything, whether he actually did it or not, so no matter what is the topic, he is in a losing position by definition. However, like you said, Sub-Zero did not agree on the spot to join Shang Tsung and actually had a chance to see what the supposed allies could offer him so it is not like he fell for empty promises alone. What is important to remember, Lin Kuei were one of major defenders of Earthrealm, so Bi-Han’s choice to switch sides actually would weakened Fire Lord’s forces, leaving him with Shaolin Monks and - depending how in Liu Kang’s timeline military technology evolved - the armed forces of nations that had no idea about Outworld’s threat. But the first part of Shang Tsung and General Shao’s plan was about depriving Sindel and her daughters of the throne, so there is possibility that before Earthrealm would be put in direct danger, Sub-Zero could alter his plans depending how well the teamwork would go with the sorcerers and General Shao.

If Kuai Liang and Tomas were either captured or eliminated from the picture, Liu Kang would not even know that Bi-Han switched sides until the attack - or, if the alliance played smart, Lin Kuei could backstab Fire Lord’s forces from the inside. And in the scenario in which Bi-Han was not captured by his brothers, he still could have an option (backup plan) to play Shang Tsung’s failure to his own gain if he was cunning enough. For example, he could betray the sorcerer to earn Earthrealm’s victory in the important moment and then lie to Liu Kang’s face that was his true plan from the start - the mission has failed, Lin Kuei brothers were outnumbered; he and Scorpion were trapped inside the fortress with Smoke, who if lucky, managed to hide himself (not something Sub-Zero could even knew). With no way to warn the Fire Lord and not seeing a better solution at that moment, under the pretense he is ready to betray Earthrealm, he learned what Liu Kang’s enemy were doing. Then trusting in brother’s skills, on purpose lied to Kuai Liang to piss him off enough so he could get out and reunite with Smoke. And when Bi-Han faced his angry brothers he fought only to let them run away, so they could carry on the important news to Liu Kang, while scarring Scorpion’s face as proof he was on board with Shang Tsung, so no one could doubt him. Because duty comes above family and isn’t that what was expected from Grandmaster and Lin Kuei? Isn’t that what their father wanted? For them all to serve Fire Lord and Earthrealm at any cost?

And mind you, at this point in the story Sub-Zero had no idea that Liu Kang was in fact once Keeper of Time and had an access to Geras/Hourglass to rewind time and check what actually happened. For all Bi-Han knew then, the lie would be unprovable and, at worst, he would have to earn Fire Lord and his brothers’ trust again but then, it would be much more easy to play on their guilt, how easily they doubted when he was willing to go extra miles for the sacred duty they all talk and talk and talk about. At the same time, the experiences would teach Bi-Han he can’t trust his brothers and in future he needs to be more cunning about breaking out from Liu Kang’s control and probably relying more on Sektor & Cyrax.

(And even if Kuai Liang would be upset, he couldn’t complain, because he is the one that wanted to uphold tradition. Bi-Han could then easily come back to the lie he tried to save father’s life and all the cruel things he said back then were an unpleasant necessity and how could you, my dearest brother, doubt me so easily…?)

Of course, in the end Sub-Zero was captured by his brothers and the possibilities thwarted but my point is, just because Bi-Han joined Shang Tsung, it does not mean he had no longer any autonomy over the course of action or that he wouldn’t make a backup plans for various outcomes. Lin Kuei were trained from childhood to do their duty and as far as we could see, they play the role of black ops for Liu Kang - what most likely also includes espionage. And in the espionage art one must be ready to act at any given moment and plan ahead. Bi-Han said himself, he has no loyalty to Earthrealm nor to Outworld and I do not doubt he would play the game with his survival and Lin Kuei’s best interest in mind. Who he would need to betray in the process would depend on who was winning and who was the most beneficial ally.

I think we all can agree that Lin Kuei mission and Bi-Han’s betrayal was a rushed subplot and both the brothers and emotional impact of the story would benefit more if Sub-Zero wasn’t cut off from the events right away after fulfilling his main purpose - giving a ground for new Lin Kuei vs Shirai Ryu conflict that won’t have any importance until the next games will use it. It is not even a matter if Bi-Han acted logically or not, but more the feeling of incompetence of everyone involved. Nitara and Ermac didn’t raise the alarm the moment when intruders were spotted (and Nitara literally screeched / screamed when she attacked Smoke). Bi-Han didn’t behead Shang Tsung when he had an occasion; instead he idly waited for enemy soldiers to run up to Lin Kuei - and really, if he knew the mission was endangered, he should have used the precious seconds to eliminate the target. Even if he was killed, there would be one enemy less for Liu Kang to deal with. Kuai Liang alone beat all the main fighters, burning the stone soldiers like they were nothing while Smoke, well he had one moment of serious panic and after that was just there, pushed to the background. Bi-Han’s choice and development of his subplot could be taken in interesting, even twisted directions in the hands of capable writers. And by that I don’t mean the intelligence of writers but capability to care for Bi-Han’s plot beyond the need to break Lin Kuei from Liu Kang. Because him acting either on impulse or seizing an opportunity he awaited for years does not mean he needs to stick to Shang Tsung & General Shao to the bitter end. I, for one, would like to see how cunning Sub-Zero could be in such a situation but for that NRS would need to let him be in the story as a full-fledged character that develops alongside the events and not be just there to push events and other characters' storylines forward.

As for original Scorpion, I feel there is in general a great change in perception of his and Sub-Zero’s storylines, as Scorpion in the earliest source materials, including the oldest comics, usually played the role of antagonist, while Sub-Zero even as an assassin could be pretty heroic on his own. Now the roles seems to turn around, however I suspect the main reason why fans give Hanzo benefit of doubt and forgive him any foolish decisions but won’t give Bi-Han the same treatment comes down to this: Hanzo is acting on strong emotions, something we can see by visually aspect of the games and heard him personally speaking about them while Sub-Zero does not externalize his emotions, because such openness is not in his nature (the old comics are better in that aspect but how many people even remember them these days?). It is much easier for fans to forgive character’s “stupidity”, the all wrongly made choices when character will openly admit to be upset, angry, devastated or traumatized than to forgive the one that won't spill out their guts, won’t cry or feel sorry for themselves and will just adapt and go on with their life. People forgive acting on overwhelming emotions when those are all over the place because emotions are something easy to relate - and who of us did not lose control over them at least one? Hanzo is powerful male character in terms of firepower and skills alone but he is also deeply messed up, traumatized man whose life was fucked up and now he is trying hardly to piece it together and to rebuild his sense of humanity and honor. Bi-Han as Noob Saibot just… adapted and moved on with his life and the amount of people he would admit any feeling of regret or injustice done to him I can count on one hand and still have a finger of two free. Meanwhile everyone who cares to learn, knows Hanzo is grieving after his clan and family or is upset or angry and so on. Which is also why I think so many characters (and fans) think Bi-Han as a Noob Saibot is so vile and evil - because in contrast to other Wraiths and/or Revenants, he does not show any sign of trauma, be it leashing out in anger or outrightly speaking how deeply wounded he is, even if he died in no less brutal way than rest of fallen heroes - and isn't it ironic that Kuai Liang was accused about that too? Of not looking traumatized enough because he does not show openly his pain . And accused by Sonya of all possible people?

It’s easier to relate and understand characters wearing emotions on their sleeve because all the reasoning and effects of their actions are either easy to trace and connect or explicitly stated by characters themselves. Hanzo is such a character. He is sad and angry so he acts in a way a sad and angry man would. Bi-Han though? If people except Bi-Han - a characters specifically connected to ice - to spill out his guts how he feels, to cry how unfair his life was and how everyone is mean to him or to vomit the over-sweetened praises for anyone he likes or jump at any occasion to cuddle anyone at arm length to know he feels anything at all, then… Well, that is definitely not the right character for them. Bi-Han just doesn’t work like that and sure, his anger may flare here and there, but as I was pointing out in different metas and analyzes in the past, that man is not overly emotional to begin with, even when talking with people he likes and cares for. I won’t lie, sometimes to understand Sub-Zero’s reasoning one needs to use all imagination and do some mentally gymnastics as the character won’t tell us what is happening inside his head the way Hanzo would. But that can be fun on its own, to examine and analyze and build theories. However, let’s be real here, it is not for everyone and each for their own.

#mortal kombat #my replies #bi han #shang tsung #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #the lin kuei mission & bi han's betrayal gives me headache not because of how sad those chapters ended but how everyne is incompetent #bi han's subplot could go in so many directions if the nrs let them be part of story for good #we could have a story when he stays with shang tsung and we al would need to wonder is this some part of cunning plan? will he betray #brothers or shang tsung and have sub zero being neutral and bidding his time for whatever the final goal was but nope #as for hanzo i like how messed up he is and what a disaster he can be at times #but yes it is easy for people to get characters like him when everything is said and showed outright and much harder to understand #characters like sub zero who won't tell you how they feel #different people like different types of characters #but introverts often are hated as the cold and uncaring bastards because they won't give people the answer they want to get #in easy way aka straight from the characters

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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can i please req peter parker x mutant!reader and reader is hypersensitive to sounds because of their ability to control vibrations and maybe? gets super jumpy every time an automatic humidifier pumps and all the avengers keep on catching r climbing peter because of it? 🫶🏻🫶🏻 LOVE YOUR WORK

hello sunshiiiine! i loved this request and it hit super close to home, so a lot of reader's experiences and symptoms are based on mine/my friends. (i missed the part about the controlling vibrations though, but i hope it still fits how you imagined it!) i'm so flattered you like my work 🥰 it means the world

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

peter parker x enhanced! reader (gender neutral)

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use (jokingly), overstim/panic attack, scenes from the conjuring 1 (not really spoilers just horror movie stuff), crackfic elements as always because it's me

w/c: 2.6k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you winced, as did many of the other avengers. you watched as carolyn’s skin turned ghastly gray and her eyes become a sickly yellow as she became possessed by a demon. you threw a couple more pieces of popcorn into your mouth.

since joining the avengers, movie nights had become one of your favorite group activities. because of your age and how new you were, it was hard to feel like a part of the team. peter was one of your only solaces.

“don’t eat all of it!” he hissed, knocking his elbow into yours. you rolled your eyes and threw a piece at his face. it left a grease mark on his cheek. you leaned in to clean it with your mouth.

“you neanderthal,” he whispered, laughing under his breath. he dug his hands in the bowl and grabbed a greedy fist of popcorn. you turned your head to face the screen, shifting under the blanket you were sharing with peter so you could loop your foot around peter’s legs. you often found yourself seeking out peter’s touches; it was comforting to have a physical presence there when you found yourself overstimulated. the tower was always busy, but peter was your constant.

peter was no stranger to overstimulation himself (and no, not in that way; get your head out of the gutter). his heightened spider senses and his adhd had been an inconvenient combo at first, but with help from bruce and tony, he was able to get his senses under control. your senses were much strong than his, to the point where overstimulation could be debilitating. it was all foreign ground to bruce and tony, so as they continued to work on a solution, peter had made it his personal mission to help you adjust and walking you through methods that had helped him.

you were too hyperfixated on watching carolyn tear her own hair out to notice the sappy look on peter’s face as he revered how the artificial light from the tv illuminated half your face. his eyes traveled from your eyelashes and the thin coat of mascara that you’d taught him how to apply for you, to the slope of your nose and the little bump you insisted was unseemly but that he found adorable, to your lips, slightly parted as you were entranced by the horror unfolding on the screen.

wanda, who was comfortably cozied up to vision on peter’s other side, snorted in amusement accompanied by that small nose scrunch of hers. she tapped peter’s shoulder furiously and with more force than necessary to catch his attention. he turned to look at her cautiously as to not move too much and disturb you.

wanda waggled her eyebrows deviously and vision hid his own smug smile. (curse that literal power couple for their perceptiveness.) wanda mouthed something that peter could barely pick up in the dark room. frustratedly, wanda leaned in closer and whispered, “take their hand, you idiot.” vision nodded in agreement, tilting his head towards you and then shaking his head at peter, disappointed. peter couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw vision mouth the word “coward.”

wanda slapped peter’s wrist playfully before cuddling into vision’s chest once more, like nothing had just happened.

peter was pretty sure you could pick up on his heartrate increasing. when you turned to look at him with a concerned look, he took it back. peter was positive you could hear the way his heart was pounding. he only hoped you couldn’t feel the heat rising to his cheeks as well.

“peter?” you whispered, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek sweetly. well, shit. there went his second wish. “oh, you’re all warm! is it the movie? do you not like horror movies?”

peter smiled in what looked more like a grimace. “no! i love horror movies, actually! yeah, they’re super great,” he lied, knowing how much you enjoyed them and hoping he could use that as an excuse to watch more movies with you. “i’m just- uh, a little warm. from the blanket.”

reluctantly, peter removed himself from under the blanket and pushed it to you. your face fell, or at least peter thought so, because a moment later, that sweet smile of yours returned. it didn’t do much to help his heart from spasming.

“o-okay! sorry if i made you uncomfortable,” you stammered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. any contact you’d been making with peter had been broken and peter found himself longing for your touch.

“no, it’s not you, it’s actually-”

“can you guys shut up?” rhodey complained from his pillow throne on the ground. “this is the best part.”

the two of you settled, looking anywhere but each others’ eyes. you slumped into the couch cushions grumpily and faced the screen once more. honestly, peter couldn’t care about ‘the best part.’ he hadn’t really been watching anyways, content with simply basking in your presence. it was the only time he could really admire you without seeming creepy. not that he was creepy at other times or anything.

the screen flashed white and the team jumped, including you. there was screaming and chaos and amidst it all, you’d flinched so hard that you’d frozen into place, eyes wide and glossy, hands clutching your blanket with a vice-like grip that left you trembling. peter could immediately recognize what it was.

you were having an attack of sorts, brought on by the harsh cinematography and the chorus of yelps and screams from the other avengers. now the popcorn bowl in your hands weighed pounds, the blanket on your skin had grown prickles, and the air around you was sending jolts down your spine. you tensed, shoulders coming up to your ears as you rubbed the back of your neck to fight the invisible tickle that was taunting you.

peter whispered your name a couple times, gradually increasing in volume until you were able to fully respond. when he caught sight of you, his face fell at the despondance in your eyes and the sudden quivers of your body. he glanced down at his watch, eyebrows furrowing as he caught the time.

11:30PM, which is when the automatic air purifier turned on for the night. it was a bit loud, which was why it worked at night, but now you were awake and already stressed. he hesitated for a second, hands lingering in the air so could choose whether or not you wanted to be touched, and you leaned into his open arms immediately. he pulled you close and you buried your nose into the fabric of his shirt, taking deep inhales of his detergent and the new york wind that he always smelled like from swinging around.

he rubbed your back, putting pressure on your tense muscles to ground you. you sniffed, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out at least one sensory stimuli. peter frowned as he felt you continue to shudder sporadically in his arms. he glanced around the room. thankfully, nobody was paying attention to you two. he didn’t think you could handle people crowding you and trying to talk to you right now, even if it was well-intentioned.

“d’you wanna leave?” he muttered near your ear. he felt you shake your head. “no? that’s okay. we can stay here, if that’s what you need. do you want me to hold you or do you not want anything to be touching you?”

peter felt you melt into his touch, like putty. “jus’ want you,” you mumbled, and peter blushed a million shades darker. you said nothing except threaded your fingers through peter’s and squeezing them, hard. he realized that the pressure was grounding you.

“c’mon, get comfy. i’ll stay with you until the movie’s over, okay? just tell me if there’s anything else i can do to make you feel better,” peter mumbled into your hair as you pushed yourself tightly against peter’s body. he’d been having bad luck controlling his physical reactions to you but prayed more than anything that there’d be no action down there. not the time, peter.

“thank you,” you hummed into his neck. this time, it was he who shivered at the hot air you breathed against his bare skin. “you’re warm. please, just… i need you.” you went silent for a moment before peter felt your lips move against his skin again. “you’re everything to me, peter. i lo- thank you.”

peter’s eyes softened and he pursed his lips to stop himself from beaming. you two had always been touchy and affectionate, but never so emotionally vulnerable. all he wanted to do was pick you up and spin you and then kiss you with all the pining he’d been storing from the past few months, but you didn’t need that right now. you just needed him, peter. his presence. so instead, he brought his hands up to stroke your hair and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“i love you too.”

you awoke the sound of poorly suppressed giggling, blinking the harsh sunlight from your groggy eyes. nudging peter, who grumbled and only dug his head closer to your chest, you glanced around to find the culprit of the noise. it was sam and bucky, the former holding his phone in front of his face and very obviously videotaping the two of you, while the latter had pulled out a polaroid camera (bucky hadn’t yet figured out how to use a smartphone) and was just now clicking it to capture the two of you in a bright flash.

peter jolted awake at the sound of bucky’s camera. “what the f-”

“language!” steve shouted from the kitchen, always on his game even at seven in the morning. he appeared by the duo’s side with a protein shake in hand and a judgementally, but amused quirked eyebrow directed at the two of you.

“why are you guys even awake?” you groaned, pushing peter off of you. somehow, you’d ended up falling asleep on the couch with peter’s head and torso on top of yours, and your legs draped over his.

“went on a run,” bucky shrugged. “came back to this.”

peter rubbed his eyes, sitting up. “what even- when did we finish the movie?” his morning voice was raspy and endearing and you cursed yourself for the fluttering in your stomach

“we finished the movie, like,” sam checked his phone, “eight hours ago. you guys passed out right before ed and lorraine did their whole ‘we saved the family, hip hip hooray’ thing. there was too much snoring and popcorn grease going on for any of us to bother waking you up.”

“i do not snore,” you insisted, uselessly trying to fix your bedhead.

“i beg to differ,” natasha chimed in, hopping the kitchen counter nonchalantly to sit on a stool with a coffee in hand, not spilling a single drop. “i’m a light sleeper. i could hear you from my room.” you sighed in embarrassment and peter took your hand, rubbing circles into the back of your palm reassuringly. “i knew stark didn’t soundproof my room,” natasha cursed under her breath. “that conniving bitch.”

bucky shook his polaroid a couple times before frisbee-ing it at the two of you. peter snatched it from the air, turning the picture so you could see it too. you had to admit, it was a nice picture.

“so are you guys, like, together now?” tony strolled in, his silk sleep mask pushed on top of his head like like a headband. how unfortunate it was that the avengers were early risers.

“dude, they’ve been together for like, weeks,” sam rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one foot sassily. “get with the program.”

“we’re not-”

“are you fucking with me, sam?” natasha looked genuinely shocked, on the verge of offended. “they’ve been dating for months now.” when sam didn’t say anything, natasha threw her hands in the air. “these are the mightiest protectors of earth? god, we’re all doomed.”

“uh, actually-”

“wait, seriously?” tony squealed, clapping his hands together gleefully. “oh my god, this is so cute. i think they’re my new OTP. don’t let wanda and vision hear me say that. wait, what’s their ship name going to be? i ordered customized mugs for wanda and vision’s three week anniversary and it would be unfair for me to not-”

“we’re not together!” you exclaimed, a little louder than you’d intended to. all heads turned to you, even peter’s, as you looked at each avenger in bewilderment. “peter and i are friends. what are you guys smoking? did thor bring asgardian weed or something?” your face quickly fell. “oh shit, were they in the brownies? dude, i had like, three.”

“i don’t think they’re high,” peter whispered to you, gaze flickering to each avenger that now were very confused and slightly perturbed. natasha slowly spun around and returned to drinking her coffee silently. bucky and sam looked at each other.

“well, that’s awkward. FRIDAY, cancel order.” tony pulled the sleeping mask off his head and spun it around on his finger to avoid the thickness in the air. “right. i’m gonna go back to bed.”

peter placed his hand on your jaw to turn your head back to meet his eyes. he was frowning.

“do you- do you remember anything from last night?” he said sadly.

“i-” you wanted to protest. you wanted to lie and say no. but you could never lie to peter. not just because of how he’d helped you last night, but because he was peter. “yeah, i remember what happened.”

“do you remember, uh, what i said? before we fell asleep, i guess?” peter’s eyes dropped to his lap, and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“yeah. i do. you said you loved me… too. which means you already knew i loved you, huh?” you spoke shyly, looking up at peter through your eyelashes. “love. present tense. ‘cause i… love you. is that okay?”

peter placed his hand on top of yours, the one that was still on his shoulder. he coaxed it off his body and into the grasp of his palm. pulling it to his mouth, he brushed his lips to your knuckles before letting it hover between your chests. “yeah. it’s okay. it’s more than okay, actually. it’s really good. it’s great.”

“it’s super great. i’m glad. i love you,” you giggled, euphoric at the absurdity of the confession. “i had the worst night yesterday,” you breathed, finally able to look into his eyes with as much lovesickness as you wanted. “and you were there. you saved me. like a friendly neighborhood superhero. you’re just… you make me feel safe, peter. i feel comfortable.”

peter’s eyes crinkled as he watched your face break into a sleepy smile. “you make me want to be a better person,” he confessed. “i’m a better person when i’m with you. all i ever want to do is make you comfortable, okay? if you just tell me how… i’ll do it.”

you pouted and sent him a slow, sticky blink. “i love you. i’m so happy i get to say it now. i love you.”

“i love you too,” peter’s eyes were practically shut by how hard he was smiling. “i love you so, so-”

“okay, you guys need to shut up,” rhodey complained, pulling out one of his airpods. “i’m literally listening to indina menzel right now and i can still hear you over her high notes.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x enhanced! reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x reader crackfic #avengers fic #marvel crackfic #avengers team #avengers self insert #avengers x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland spiderman

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r0b0tb0y · 2 years

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Rec List: so Cassian Andor is your blorbo now

Please reblog with your own recs! My ships are mostly Cassian/K-2SO (AKA droidcaptain), Din/Cassian, and Bodhi-centric, so I will be missing some good fics. New additions are very welcome!

First of all, everything by @bright-elen but especially:

Iterations: three different backups of K-2SO are booted into new hulls after the Battle of Yavin. As they each grow in different directions, the full depth of his relationship with Cassian gradually unfolds. This fic broke my heart and gave droids legal rights.

404: K-2SO reboots as an Imperial prison guard droid with mysterious independent programming. He begins to suspect one of the prisoners with whom he shares an inexplicable bond.

war footing: Cassian explores his armour kink with Din Djarin, before figuring out there's bigger metal guy he really wants. The very first dincassian fic! (full disclosure: I had the privilege of writing an instalment)

Unorthodox Modifications: this fic changed the game for droidcaptain shippers. K2 discovers synthetic pleasure, but how does he tell Cassian about it?

and Cortado, a brand new Andor-canon fic about the first droid Kassa ever freed

Shoot Your Shot by @semisweetshadow: Cassian meets Din Djarin on a mission, and one thing leads to another (amazing variety of ships

Dual Process Theory by TheLoyalRoyalGuard - unflinching postcanon series that deals with disability and cyborgs in really interesting ways

There Is No Love Manual For Robots by @a-whale-bone: Cassian/K2/Bodhi OT3 yessss

Some oneshots that I love:

Incline by Nununununu: a 5+1 Cassian/K2. Read ANYTHING by Nu!

Rapid Touch Response by dreamsofoceans. classic sex pollen!

I am a Pilot of Precision by lurrel. the slap, the fic

A Lover You Don't Have To Love by Artemis1000. ANGST MY BELOVED

canards by spookykingdomstarlight: Cassian and K2 first meeting

Read-Only Memory by dreamsofoceans: if elen doesn't have you convinced of how interesting droid POV can be, this will

volatile by notbecauseofvictories: more droid!POV, now with memory wipe angst

Effective Methods by Penknife: classic PWP wireplay goodness

Finally, some fics of mine:

Fairweather Friends: Cassian Andor is thrown in an Imperial prison cell with no lights. And a Mandalorian. The 'oh my god they were cellmates' fic.

Defect: Cassian Andor is on an undercover Imperial mission when he meets a mysterious friend known only as "K." A multichap where K2 breaks his own programming, with lots of mistaken identity games.

Feedback Loop: Cassian and K2 shelter from a blizzard after a mission goes wrong, and repairing K2 provokes some unexpected side effects. A PWP with a no-longer canon detail, but worth it if you love huddling for warmth.

#cassian andor #andor #star wars #rogue one #droidcaptain #fic rec #dincassian

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awritesthings1 · 1 year

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How to Disappear (Chapter 5)

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: You and Anakin meet on Lothal. Truths begin to unfold.

AO3 link

Ever since you were a child, you knew to look behind your back. You weren’t exactly sure when you had started to do it, but you guessed the habit filled in your lack of feeling in the Force. All you knew was that it made you overthink at times you shouldn’t be thinking. Like that time during training when you could have sworn a ghostly hand passed over your shoulder, only to be smacked to the ground as the youngling sparring you landed a punishing blow. You vowed to never do it again. But you did. Time and time again. Old habits die hard.

Although, your strange sense of paranoia looked out for you.

Ironically, it was with Anakin. The person with the strongest sense of the Force. It was dark, and he was pulling you down the hallway, past the Padawan dorms out to the gardens. Out of habit, you spared a quick glance behind your shoulder. Under the dim light, the faintest shadow approached around the corner you had come from. Instinctively, you turned on your heel, the momentum swinging both you and Anakin towards the training rooms. Luckily, he had the mind not to question you as you both scurried away. It occurred to you that night that maybe some Jedi recklessly trusted in the Force.

Now, the memory churns away like an old hologram, flickering on and off until it dies.

Anakin.

Just his name held your thoughts hostage, like a throbbing headache that wouldn’t go away. You hope he was safe. The last time you had seen him was before you were sent away on your mission.

It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t the two of you been through enough?

You needed to find him. You needed to know. But as the Force took you hostage, you couldn’t pick and choose when and where you appeared.

And so, when a rosy cloud of blue tenderly nudges you from your slumber, you don’t even question yourself.

Wordlessly, it guides you through sandy deserts, open seas, overgrown grass, all flashing beneath your feet. It feels like a dream, peeling back blurry layers as scenes grow more vivid, adding faint details no one would ever notice. But you do. All the time.

In the distance, something calls for you. You don’t hear its rasping voice. There is no sound here, only feeling. A feeling of being needed, a gravitating sensation that pulls you to the light. You step into the star, relaxing into the gaseous purr. Behind the blinding light, it lurks—a shadow.

It scrambles around other shadows, running away from the light into a dark corner. Once it finds itself alone, it stops, bending over to clutch at its abdomen.

You watch curiously, waiting for that final tug to pull you those final steps closer.

When it stands tall, the scene begins to reveal itself to you. Cramped machines line a narrow path, tucked away in the heat of a vast factory. Dull silvers clash violently with thunderous noise as droids work on an assembly line. You notice weapons rolling down the metal belt and the looping buzz that drowns out the room. In the corner, you sense a static energy. It hides away in the deeper notches and bends of the factory. Passing by, unbeknownst to the droids, you search for the source.

You look between pipes, through vents, behind fans, only to find nothing. Still, that aching feeling sat pressed against your skull. Something or someone was here, waiting, watching, lurking. Steam from the engines flood the bottom of the room, pooling beneath your knees. The wisps of gray lure you deeper into the thicker air, far away from where any person would stray.

Just then, a hand reaches through the steam to touch your robes.

You pause.

In another universe, it would be a thread from your robes catching on a screw. A rueful moment passes at the thought.

Before you can act, the hand retreats, disappearing back to the ground.

You follow it, ducking under the pool of gray, underneath some pipes, and around a corner where the panel of a vent had been left open. Cautiously, you wave away some smoke to peer inside.

What you see crumbles all words on your tongue.

The youngling.

The youngling you had saved all those years ago. The youngling who had found your secret hideout in the Jedi Temple.

He was older now, eyes aged from what you could imagine was grief. They watch with trepidation, staring as if you were a ghost. Then, you suppose you were.

His body is curled into a ball, his hands poised to strike. Although, he never does, warily holding eye contact. Each of his brittle breaths are a drop in a sea of noise. His lips are parted with words unspoken. Too many questions weigh down his tongue. He needs to know this is real, that you are real. In a galaxy where so many have turned on him, he needs to know you won’t.

Through the darkness, his hand reaches to touch your blue glow once again. When it traces the sleeve of your robe, you reach and intertwine your fingers together. You needed to know he was real as well.

The weight of his palm brings a tear to your eye. Wordlessly, you embrace the boy who melts like ice, soundlessly crying into your shoulder. Comfortable silence wraps both of you in a warm hug.

“Where are we?” Your head cranes to see further into the vent. It’s a tight fit, but you are no stranger to smaller spaces.

“Lothal. We’re on Lothal.” His voice breaks.

Seeing your face was like cutting open old wounds. The last he had seen you was… that night. He repressed it more than he cared to admit. Survivors guilt seemed to affect him more than the other younglings. Most were able to hide the weight under their eyes from countless nightmares, and only a select few refused to move on from the Order. He envied those who were able to find some normality in their lives when he was risking his life practicing the ways of a Jedi in hiding, because how could he ever move on after what you did for them. And looking at your ghost, he can’t help but be proud of that decision.

You sacrificed your life for the Jedi. For him.

His mouth hangs open at the thought. Now you were here and within reach, a mouthful of questions begged to be answered. But he knows the two of you must keep moving, the droids might notice the opened vent. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you deeper, before climbing out on the other side. You follow him into a small open room.

Everything is scattered. Stray metal components are buried amongst various little machines. For a moment, you think this might be his room, but it looks more like a messy office— a makeshift one, at that. The boy rushes over to a thin unsteady table, fumbling with buttons on a little screen. Twisting a knob on the side ejects a little metal disc to which he slips into a bag.

He runs around the room like that for a while, leaving you to listen to the hum of the dim lights.

“What happened?” The words leave your lips without a thought.

You watch the way his back stiffens, pausing to glance over his shoulder. With a deep breath, he turns to face you.

“You saved us that night,” his eyes fall to the ground. “I never got to thank you for that.”

“You never needed to,” and you meant it.

He lips curl into a sad smile, years worth of tension leaving his shoulders. “Most of us escaped here, to Lothal. We’ve been hiding ever since.” His hands find a tool to fidget with. “But we won’t have to hide anymore. There’s a rebellion cell lurking beneath their noses. Together we are going to destroy the Empire from the inside out,” the dim light catches his eye.

“I don’t understand… A rebellion? Who is hunting you?” You ask. As far as you knew, the war was over. It ended that night on Coruscant when you died. Was there another war you didn’t know about?

He nods. “When the Empire came, they destroyed the land and started building all these factories to manufacture weapons,” his lips press together. “Eventually they will have enough power to attack Lothal and rebuild on our ashes.”

You share the anger and frustration in his tone. Palpatine had tried to do the same thing. Whether he succeeded, you were unsure. That night was the last memory you could recall. You didn’t like to think back to it either. Somewhere on your journey, you had made peace with yourself through the Force. “What of the others?”

“The Jedi?”

You nod, holding a breath that isn’t there.

“Gone.”

A whistling bolt of lightning strikes between your eyes, pinching all hope of a brighter future. It couldn’t be over just like that. What about Anakin? He was the Chosen One, none of this was meant to happen. Unless he… No. This boy was wrong. Anakin was alive, you could feel him. Faint, but alive. You wouldn’t give up on him, you couldn’t.

“Who is the Empire?” Your voice turns cold.

“They were the ones behind the attack on Coruscant,” he spits, “and now, they want to rule the galaxy.”

There it was again. That itching feeling scratching at the cracks in your skull. No. That can’t be right.

You shake your head. “No, Palpatine was behind the attack. I saw him.”

“And who do you think their leader is?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does, but just thinking about the Empire makes his eye twitch.

You swallow out of habit. “What are you going to do?”

The boy exhales. “We fight back.” He kneels to grab the small metal disc out of his bag. Proudly, he holds it up to you. “Place this on any starfighter or speeder, and the circuit explodes. It’s still a work in progress though… The charge only lasts long enough to destroy one starfighter at a time, so I need to come back here to recharge them.”

You forget to move, zoning out and probably looking more dead than you already were. You’re so tired of thinking, of stressing, of waiting for something and not knowing what. You can only think of how easy it would be to disappear. To simply stop existing and let the galaxy settle its disputes by itself.

Your eyes close, stealing a moment for yourself. Even for just a second, you let the tension soak through your form like water. Slow drips turn to waves, a brief escape hailing into a storm of aching tiredness. A twisting sensation overwhelms your gut, fanning an angry heat behind your eyes. And you realise with a heavy heart that it feels familiar, like a forgotten memory.

Before the idea can linger, a dark brooding force whips your head back. Your teeth grit at the pain. Faintly, you hear the boy crying out to you, but it bleeds into the noise screeching in your head. The sound scratches into your being as if it were tugging on the energy that tethered you to reality. It worms through your head, hissing and nipping at your attempts to push it out. Then, without any warning, it withdraws completely.

Your eyes peel open, barely managing to lift your head as your body had slumped to the floor. The boy watches you fearfully.

“He’s here,” you croak through cracked lips.

Suddenly, a roaring alarm cries through the factory.

The hairs on the boy’s arms lift. “Who?” His panicked voice raises over the alarm, although he doesn’t wait for an answer. Immediately, he rushes to gather his things. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he grabs a blanket, and unravels it hastily before stuffing the contents into one of the inner pockets on his vest.

The answer to his question hides somewhere in your head, only you can’t speak it into existence because then that would make it real. There was only one person you knew who matched the level of darkness taunting you. The same man that had killed you. Palpatine.

You hear his feet kicking away wires that had tangled around his feet in the rush. Within moments, he shuffles to the vent. You almost blank as déjà vu sets in.

When he notices you aren’t behind him, he ducks his head back out. “Follow me!” He orders.

No. You know how this will end.

He waits only seconds before reaching out and tugging on your hand. He isn’t sure what he is thinking, being almost certain his hand would pass through. But it doesn’t, and he pulls you behind him as the two of you sneak through the vent.

On the other side, droids storm across the factory under flashing red lights. All you can do is bite down on your lip to repress the sickening amount of dread building in your chest. You don’t think you can go out there again, not when you knew how it ended, and you would be damned if you let this boy make the same mistake. Your hand reaches for his back.

“No. We are not making the same mistake again.” Under the blood red light, you look more purple than blue. He thinks it makes you look more of a human than a ghost, highlighting the hollows of your cheek and shadows beneath your eyes. You truly looked like you had roamed the galaxy and seen all there was to see.

In truth, he feels the darkness too. It was loud to a fault, and powerful in a way he had never felt. Even more so by the way it seemed to affect you. But one thing he had been taught was to keep pushing. And so, the same way he had that night on Coruscant, he grabbed your hand and ran.

His legs carried him further than you could keep up with. Lagging behind, you struggle to catch up, your wrist slipping from his grip as the two of you duck through machines and around corners. He was taller than you remember, no longer a little boy.

Together, you run through the factory, narrowly avoiding droids and dodging hanging pipes. Each stride he takes confidently, knowing the layout of the factory like the back of his hand.

After blindly trusting the boy to guide, you eventually reach a large steal door. He doesn’t spare a second as he pulls you the last few feet to the exit, but you come to a halt.

“We need to go!” He shouts at you, continuing to pull you towards the exit while you resist.

A chilling ghost touches your shoulder. You feel him. He’s right out there.

“No! No! He’s on the other side!” You know he can sense your fear through the door.

But it’s too late.

Over the noise of the alarm, your plea is hopelessly drowned out. You should have known that the Force had other plans for you. Stumbling forward, your teeth clench as the headache returns, but the boy pays no attention, dragging you through the door with him.

And there he is, approaching like a predator through a crowd of stormtroopers. Dressed in dark robes, his face is concealed by a hood, triggering a flash of amber across your memory. Although, it quickly bleeds into the flashing sirens painting over the bitter night sky. Polluted air hisses between narrow steeples, whistling through your ears. Even the dead grass tenses underneath the paved land.

Besides you, the boy tremors, clumsily reaching out for you in the Force. His skill is weak and lacks focus.

You already know it’s over before it has begun.

The ringing in your ear grows violent. Loud, hateful, vengeful. It was him—Palpatine— with a power strong enough to transcend sound. Scratching high tones behind your eyes, and crescendos through your body, you reach to claw at your head. He feeds on your pain, lapping it up like the deranged man he is. When you try to spit him out, he only digs deeper. Your skin singes as the darkness licks at invisible wounds.

The weight of the boy’s vest seems to grow as he watches you fall to your knees. Helplessly, he looks to the stormtroopers guarding the Sith Lord’s rear as if they would do anything, but they know to hold their breath.

“Please!” The word slips your mind, and you don’t have the strength to know if anyone heard you.

The Force shakes at your request, pitying your crumbling form for a stuttering moment. Relief floods the pain away, halting the darkness at its shores.

When you look up, Lothal had frozen into place. The pumping sound of machines halted, and the twisted scent of burning metal evaporated. Your ears sung as the swelling sirens faded into a whisper. Even the wind vanishes.

With shaking hands, you stand, having forgotten when you had collapsed. The stormtroopers make no move to shoot as they stand like statues. You look over to the boy whose face is grit somewhere between a gasp and a cry. As you motion to shake him out of his daze, the cracked asphalt crunches under a boot. At the sound, you wish you had been frozen like the others.

Turning to face the Sith Lord, you seem to drift in and out of your body. Were you really going to live through this once more? Must you be tortured like this?

You remembered nightmares like these. All those sleepless nights at the Jedi Temple, they all looked the same. The worst one happened during your final days before arriving on Coruscant from a mission. On that ship, you had the worst dream about Anakin. He was bowing before a dark figure that looked exactly like the one standing before you. Now, you can’t help but wonder if it had been a warning.

“What have you done?”

And like a shadow passing by unbeknownst to you, an undoubtful wave of sorrow creeps up your spine. Words uttered from a mouth lost to time pricks at the hastened stitching of your soul. Ashes of a long-forgotten voice laden over an empty hearth. Before you, your greatest nightmare unfolding.

But it’s not confrontation that squeezes a breathless gasp from your mouth. It’s the way he says it. Void of all fury, vengeance, and power.

Because this was no Palpatine.

This was the lost boy you fell in love with.

This was Anakin Skywalker.

The two of you were ghosts of the past, no matter the blood in his veins or the translucent flesh of your palm. To an outsider, the tension strained further than any foreign planet, because the boy who you loved was standing before you reborn a Sith Lord, scooping everything you lived for under a deep murky shadow. And the pain festers in you for it; for the way you cared for this man more than your life only to find out this way.

The faintest sip of doubt vanishes as he removes his hood and you swallow down the image, hoping to bury it somewhere you would forget.

And you think, this must be what betrayal feels like.

Your teeth grit. You can’t find it in yourself to speak his name.

When he rushes to your side, your body is as numb as your head. Blinking, you observe how he rests his hand on your arm. But you don’t feel it, and for once you feel a little grateful you are a ghost, because it would hurt too much to feel his skin. He speaks softly, hushed breaths brushing across your cheek.

It was hard to know where you stood with him now. Ever since your memories came rushing back to you on Naboo, you knew something had shifted. The Force felt off and now that you see him you realise, he wasn’t Anakin anymore. There was a suffocating darkness about his presence, a stranger of the person you once knew. And worst of all, you couldn’t even be grateful that he was alive and had survived the attack on the Jedi Temple; because it felt like he was still fighting.

Perhaps he notices your lack of words when he repeats himself. “Are you alright?”

You think it might be too late for that.

Gently, you sink out of your daze, pausing to meet his eyes. “Tell me you haven’t done this. Tell me you aren’t hunting this boy.”

His eyebrows crease, the tension rising to the surface once more. “You’re siding with rebels now? Is that what this is?”

Your head shakes in disbelief. How had everything gone so wrong? Your voice breaks, “…Anakin.”

For a sharp moment, the world begins to shift around you, gradually thawing all those frozen in place. There’s nothing more you can do but purse your lips and wait. Yet Anakin’s shoulders seem to tense, looking at you with a fear you had never seen.

“How do you know that name?” The panic pairs with his unsteady breathing.

In record timing, you experience a whiplash of emotions. Apprehension, confusion, and a sinking feeling that something sinister was lurking beneath the surface. There was no way Anakin had forgotten you, not after spending your whole life with him.

The insult burns hotter than any fire and deeper than any ocean. “I loved you,” the confession comes out with ease because it was true, no matter how hopeless it sounded. But as the stormtroopers slowly begin to move and the boy at your side unfreezes, you knew you needed to do something before it was too late. “Don’t let my death be in vain. Save this boy,” you urge.

Receding back into the present, you pray your efforts would not be in vain. Because in the end, you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. You could only trust in Anakin to do the right thing.

From only a few feet away, shivers prick at the boy’s spine. It’s like he’s being called out of a daze. But he doesn’t have time to shake off the feeling. He had been in this position before, helplessly listening from behind a wall. Young, afraid, and clumsy, he learned to befriend the shadows. Ducking his head through the streets, shifting down a dark alleyway and roaming underneath the moons of Lothal unbeknownst to anyone. He swore to never cower away again, and now was that time.

A Sith Lord killed you once, he wasn’t going to let it happen twice. He thinks the Sith is careless in the way he towers over your shaking body, too focused to realise the threat buried in the boy’s vest. Patiently, he waits for his cue.

When the Sith Lord reaches to touch your cheek, the boy makes his move. With a heart pumping full of adrenaline, he reaches into his vest and pulls out the one object that could either save his life or end it.

A lightsaber.

Your lightsaber.

And as sharp at the wit on his tongue, the boy ignites the weapon at the Sith Lord’s neck, holding it there to singe the man’s skin. A warning.

The Sith’s teeth grit, but he doesn’t move to fight back, much less blink. Vader’s gaze remains fixated on you.

Perhaps too young to understand, the boy gives in to the raging adrenaline. He adjusts his stance for the final blow. But before the boy can finish what he started, your hand catches his wrist, halting the lightsaber. A pang of anger rushes through him and he turns to shout at you before his shoulders deflate. He sees the pain on your face as you almost remorsefully ease the lightsaber away.

The boy wishes he had been taught how to manage his emotions as expertly as you. Because he almost blacks out from losing his chance to make things right. Yet against all odds, he follows your lead, lowering the lightsaber despite the number of blasters aimed at his head.

“We don’t kill.”

He blinks at your words, because of course, that’s not the Jedi way. How could he have been so blind? Perhaps because he imagined you had a better plan or had seen an escape, or maybe it was that strange comforting presence that played around you. Almost like a bright blue light screaming I’m here! I’m here! You were simply not someone to ignore. And the more he thinks about it, the more he pictures you as a figment the Force had sent. Because that’s what you are. A Force ghost; peaceful in nature, a kindred spirit.

If he could trust anyone, it would be you.

Adjusting his grip, he lets the lightsaber fall to the ground.

Immediately, Anakin wills your lightsaber to his hand, making you question why he hadn’t done it earlier. His body tenses, and even in your years of knowing him like the back of your hand, you are left an outsider, meticulously knocking on a door that won’t open. He seals himself off, reclining into his body and appearing smaller than he was. You remain in place, waiting and biting your tongue. Anakin was still somewhere in there. You were sure of it.

Then, as if he had been woken from a trance, a flicker of hope flashes across his eyes. Subtle, but there. And to your surprise, a rush of light races through your body, beaming brighter for only a second. A sign, practically yelling out to you that something had changed. For the worse or for better, you didn’t know. Until, in a state of weakness, Anakin’s agitation leaks through the Force; stuttering, blinking, convulsing. And as much as he tries to repress it, you see through that dark exterior. A heart lies behind it, thrashing through the shadows and beating wildly like an animal.

It felt young again, like the heart you fell in love with. Not as far gone as you initially thought.

Softening his gaze, Anakin lifts his head, mulling over your features. It was as if years had been lifted from his face. The heavy bags beneath his eyes soften, dramatically absorbing the tension. It reminds you of how devastatingly distraught he looked on Tatooine after the death of his mother. “Lower your weapons, this boy is my guest. He is to be escorted off Lothal immediately and to remain unharmed.”

You let go of a breath that isn’t there.

The stormtroopers follow orders, lowering their weapons and gathering around the boy who desperately attempts to reach your eyes over their shoulders. Wordlessly you nod, a quiet reassurance that he would be alright. In truth, you knew not to blindly trust in people, but it was harder because Anakin wasn’t just a random person. Yet, that tender ache in the air reminded you that if anything were to go wrong, the Force would guide you back to help whoever needed you because that’s who you were now.

You keep a hold of the boy’s Force signature as he is guided away towards a ship to ensure his safety. Once you are satisfied, you turn to face Anakin. His eyes had softened considerably. “Thank you. I’ll remember this.”

And you would.

Vader had spent his life walking a fine line. Lost somewhere between right and wrong, it only took one misplaced foot to cause a ripple effect on his life. Unlike Obi-Wan—who was refined— Anakin simply couldn’t find peace within himself. Up until his escape from Tatooine, he believed that word was made up. Peace was a dream only accessible to those with the credits to pay up. And even when he became a Padawan, he ended up waist deep in more trouble. Something was wrong. There had to be an answer floating out of reach.

And then you floated into his life.

Vader first met you a week after the attack on the Jedi Temple. You appeared in his bunker one night, staring down at him like a curious child as he roused from sleep. He hadn’t meant to spook you away, but when he opened his eyes, he thought you were there to take him to the afterlife. It didn’t help that you were a ghostly blue mumbling something unintelligible under your breath. You took a step back as he held out his hand defensively. Long gone were the days Vader thought he would encounter a Force ghost. How was he to know if you held sinister intentions?

Yet you stood there, blinking and tilting your head to one side. A morbid sense of curiosity bound him to the bed when you padded across the floor lighter than a feather. His guard remained trained on your presence, fascinated at your bravery. You approach him hesitantly, a look of caution caught between your eyebrows. Being only an arm’s length away, he was sure you would dissolve into the night. But to his surprise, you carefully prodded at his cheek.

It was like a drug, shooting warmth up his veins and dragging velvet down his spine. Your touch so gentle and tender, his eyes grew heavy with sleep. Before he knew it, his head hit the pillow and your ghostly frame disappeared into the dark.

Vader had no doubt he was growing delusional when he awoke the next morning to a quiet room.

It threw him off his game and led him to minor fits of paranoia. It annoyed him that he hadn’t awoken sooner. Who knows how long you were standing there undetected. But no. He was too powerful to be fooled by some trick of the eye. Perhaps you were a vision sent to warn him of something. And so, the paranoia grew, amounting in overexerting himself to the bone to correct his weakness.

But when you appeared to him again? His head spun. And then you appeared again, and again, like an addiction he couldn’t get enough of. There was no explanation for anyone to be as forgiving and kind to someone like him. Yet you never failed to be there for him when he needed you the most. You truly were an angel sent through the Force. Perhaps it helped you never remembered anything, because then you might have vanished forever. Although, a weak part inside humored the idea of you remembering all the puny and ugly sides of himself. Would you still forgive him?

With a clenched jaw, he returns to the present. You stand before him unwavering. Behind you, the boy is visibly stressed, uncontrollably projecting his anxiousness into the Force.

But that doesn’t bother him.

What bothers him is you know his name. The name he went by before he had even met you.

It scares him.

Because after all this time of thinking he was in control, he wasn’t. You were.

Vader slumps at the thought, sinking into the comforting shadows, away from your narrow gaze. In the darkness nothing could reach him, not even your magnetic touch. After spending all those months stepping into your longing embrace and leaving his demons at the foot of his bed, he retraces his steps. How could he have been so foolish? How could he let himself slip away from his new life so easily?

It was disgusting cruel the way you opened a new door in him just to slam it closed.

He barks something at you, although he forgets the moment it leaves his mouth because when you reply, it utterly wrecks him.

“I loved you,” you cried.

The darkness within him thrashes in its cage, licking its lips at the taste of vulnerability. Threatening purple bruises and razor-sharp violence, Vader can only blink at the demon breathing inside him. Because in the end, wasn’t that all he truly wanted? A soft pair of arms to wrap him in a warm embrace, a loving confession pressed into the curve of his ear, a trusting figure to guide him away from the thorns. Together your bodies spoke a secret language that words could not express, and minds could not understand.

Here you were, promising the galaxy to him. And here he was, giving into old habits.

From a lifetime away, you stand there paused like a placid statue. And when he looks down, he is back in that bed, kicking those sheets away as you reach to touch him. The air is clear, unlike the metallic scent of Lothal. He watches you through his eyelashes, awestruck by your unwitting affection. Vader never wanted to forget. It was possibly the only memory he could recall with certainty. No one could take that away from him. Not his Master, not an entire army, not even himself.

You were a treasure, special and rare. A once in a lifetime chance. A once in a millennium feeling. Never had the Force made him feel so deeply and so fiercely passionate over something, much less someone. How could he let that dissolve into nothing?

No. He wouldn’t give up on you. Not after everything you have done for him.

In the distance, the ship ascends to take the boy somewhere faraway. Vader’s hand reaches for you like the night you first met. Simultaneously, your palm reaches forward, and although they never physically meet, they clasp together through the Force, promising a galaxy’s worth of forgiveness.

A weak smile.

Yes.

He will be alright.

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ospreyeamon · 1 year

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theron, lana, and double-edged character traits

Theron and Lana have parallel double-edged character traits; different but similar, established in the same timeframe and serving the same purpose in the plot from Korriban Incursion/Assault on Tython to Ziost. Theron is bold and Lana is self-assured or, if you want to put it less charitably, Theron is reckless and Lana is arrogant.

These driving traits shaping their behaviour justifies how the plot unfolds in roughly the same way, regardless of the player character’s choices both before and during the arc. Theron would prefer to head into his unsanctioned mission with some backup, but if you tell him you’re not interested in going along with his plan during the meeting in the Carrick station cantina, he’s fully prepared to go it alone. Lana asks if the player character also smells a rat regarding Arkous and the timing of the strikes on Korriban and Tython but can’t be made to doubt her intuition if you disagree, even though the person telling her she’s wrong is probably either a higher ranked Sith or an actual intelligence agent. It’s possible to refuse the Maanan and Rakata Prime quests and still meet the pair teamed up on Rishi because if the player character doesn’t get involved they both decide they are capable of tackling the conspiracy without them.

This also plays into why they are willing to work with the other’s partner from their enemy faction, regardless of the player character’s class, past choices, or alignment. Lana is confident in her decision to trust Theron, to trust the player, to trust her feelings about both of them like she trusted her feelings about Darth Arkous. Theron is comfortable with putting his safety at risk if he and Lana turn out to be mistaken in their assumption her buddy won’t be interested in hurting him. How big a risk Theron is taking – how far Lana may be trusting her intuition in the face of contradictory evidence – varies with the player character’s history. A Jedi Knight who is buddy buddy with Scourge and Pravan is less of a stretch than a SIS-agent-hating Cipher Nine.

In the earlier part of their plot, Lana’s self-assuredness and Theron’s boldness work out for them. The player character won’t turn on Theron or Lana (if only because they have been machine-welded to the plot rails). Theron and Lana are correct in their assumption that they can take on the Manaan and Rakata Prime missions without additional help from the player character if events play out that way.

Later on, though, we see these qualities trip them up. It is most clear that they have misstepped when you’re playing as the same faction as them. Lana admits to an Imp-Side player that she and Jakarro did have the opportunity to save Theron from capture by the Revanites but decided it might be beneficial to let it happen. The risks are much higher and the benefits lower than Lana seems to think they are; Theron might have been killed instead of captured, and the Revanites know she, Theron, and Jakarro are working together so they can guess that she and Jakarro are on Rishi if they identify Theron. When you compare it to the plan Keeper makes with Cipher Nine on Corellia – actual information they are sure Hunter wants out of Cipher, consenting participant who won’t assume Keeper has betrayed them, pre-agreed false intel to give up, extraction plan – which Keeper acknowledges puts Cipher in serious danger and that she is only resorting to for lack of safer options, it shows how sloppy Lana is by comparison.

There’s nothing strange about Theron not telling an Imp-Side character about his mission on Ziost. Even if Theron wanted to give them a heads up, he can’t continue to collaborate with Imperials without being sanctioned by the SIS (at least not before the situation has gone completely to hell). Failing to keep another Pub who has already demonstrated their willingness to help him out with clandestine missions in the loop is much more questionable. Leaving the Jedi Knight or Consular locked out of the loop regarding your efforts to hunt down the Sith Emperor, especially, when the Knight and Kira have fought free of the Emperor’s possession and the Consular can break possessions affecting other people, since if you are looking for the Sith Emperor you really need a plan for if you find him.

It’s significant that the screw-ups come after the triumphs. Theron’s last secret unsanctioned mission went great, so he goes off on another one. Lana’s instincts on how to approach the Revanite conspiracy have been very much on point since the aftermath of the Tython-Korriban incursions, so she leans on them more heavily to make an impulsive unilateral decision. Even then, Lana’s belief that Theron will be able to make the most of his capture is borne out, though Theron is still justifiably furious with her. Theron’s desire to keep Supreme Chancellor Saresh in the dark is validated by her behaviour when she is informed of the situation on Ziost by Rane Kovach; attempting to hide the mission with the Sixth Line from Saresh required hiding it from everyone who would tell Saresh and everyone who would tell anyone who would tell Saresh, and even restricting the information to just the people involved in the mission turned out not to be enough to prevent a leak.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #swtor meta #Theron Shan #Lana Beniko #star wars the old republic

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quiet-and-disturbed · 1 year

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How the Genshin Men Hug: Itto, Zhongli, Ayato, Thoma

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Arataki Itto

Itto’s hugs are all encompassing like burying under the duvet on a cold winters' night. They’re a common occurrence, most often being a surprise when he comes up behind you and loops his arms across your stomach and chest. They ground him, reminding him he’s loved, that you’re real and safe in his arms – the most important person in his found family that’s his and his alone – He’s not afraid to show his adoration for you in public too, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you off the ground in excitement, guarding and protection you against anyone you talk to. Almost like a puppy with the stature of a cane Corso. He especially adores when he can hug you to sleep, knowing your safe, and feeding his instincts to fully protect you even in his sleep. He often dreams of you, though after a particularly bad mission or experience those dreams can turn into nightmares, when his grip on you tightens and he nuzzles into your neck, to breath you in, to remind himself that’s you’re safe and that it was simply just a bad dream.

Zhongli

Zhongli’s hugs are grounding, like the first step on land after a turbulent flight. He doesn’t often hug you in public, preferring to keep intimacy to the privacy of your home for the sake of your safety – especially against those who knew his former identity. However, that doesn’t stop him from holding your hand whenever you're out together to ease himself into the beauty of humanity. To be so close to someone, to crave their touch and affection – it was all so new to him, and yet, when you were in his arms pressed up against him there is nowhere else, he would rather be. Despite claiming to have renounced his title as the Geo Archon, Zhongli’s body felt as if it were hewn from granite, moulded for your eyes only, and every time you embraced it was listening to an isolated earthquake, almost as if your lover was purring at your touch. At night when you slept he would hold you despite him not needing to sleep as much as you he enjoyed the novelty of it – he partook in the nightly activities of going to bed with you, cradling you until you fell asleep and always waking up moments before you bringing you into him embrace. To go a morning without embracing you in bed would most definitely sour his mood for the rest of the day, even if it were only noticeable to those closest to him such as Hu Tao who teased him relentlessly on those days.

Kamisato Ayato

Ayato's hugs are the only time when he truly relaxes. Ayato doesn’t try to hide his vast workload from you, not anymore (a story for another time) and he’s open and honest not only about his work, but also the hours he expects to work and his schedule for the week – courtesy of Thoma – as a noble its expectant that most of his life would revolve around the duties attached to such a title. But he also has a rule where he cannot touch you when he works lest his body and mind deceive him into wrapping you up in his arms and disappearing for the week. You were his weak spot, and he did not try to hide that when you were alone together. To the public your relationship may look stiff as he doesn’t touch you in public, but it was his fraying resolve that the knowledge that even if your fingertips touch, he would unfold into a lovestruck man that kept him away in a desperate attempt to not show weakness to his enemies. After work he’d seek you out to eat together, sitting as close to you as he could, filling you in on his schemes and ideas before remaining by your side for the rest of the day entertaining anything you choose to do with your time. At night he would follow the routine you had both become accustomed to, getting ready beside one another before he enclosed you in his arms and refused to let go until the sun peeked over the horizon. He’d then drag you even tighter into his chest mumbling for just a few more minutes trying to avoid the growing light that streamed into the room – that is until Thoma came to awake his master.

Thoma

Thoma’s hugs are few and far between, and yet linger for a lifetime, much like the imprint of seeing spring for the first time and grasping onto that memory until it comes again. He’s a busy man, always cleaning up after the Kamisato’s, both literally and figuratively. He was devoted to them and yourself, and whilst seeing him during the day was a rarity, whenever there was a time when your paths would cross, he has no qualms with scooping you up into a quick hug, kissing your cheek before departing just as swiftly. In public Thoma has no problem showering you in affection, pointing out fabrics that would suit you or the latest creation his master made him try all while your fingers are intertwined. Oftentimes you’d go to bed with Thoma due to his extensive duties, but he’d always creep in quietly, kissing your forehead before sliding in beside you and holding you for the night. On the days when he could wake up before you and shower you in kisses, he’d gently kiss your cheek, leaving breakfast prepared for you with a sweet letter before departing.

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this is my first longer post in quite a while! Lined up I have Kaeya, Diluc and Childe to add to this in a different post! If there's anything else you'd like me to write then please don't hesitate to ask!

I hope you have a lovely day!

-Q&D

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violetmuses · 2 years

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Kiss It Better (18+ Minors DNI) || A Rick Flag One Shot

TITLE: Kiss It Better (18+ Minors DNI) || A Rick Flag One Shot

FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Film Universe

CHARACTER: Rick Flag

PAIRING: Rick Flag + Female Reader

MAIN STORYLINE: After completing the Enchantress mission, Rick returns home and hopes to make up lost time with you.

Author’s Note: As a warning, this One Shot includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc.

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96 @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog

__________

2016

I’ve been waiting up all night.

Baby, tell me what’s wrong?

Gonna make it right.

Make it all night long.

“Kiss It Better” by Rihanna (2016)

“Darlin’?” One Southern accent echoed and keys jingle behind you as footsteps enter the house. Instead of squealing with joy and meeting with Rick for the first time in months, you continued washing dishes, rolling both eyes and not even facing him.

“Hmm?” You mumbled, looking forward as suds ran along your hands. Only minutes later, you finish washing those dishes, rising that sink once the drain-holder is full.

“Hey,” His voice rasps from behind you and he whispers by the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips and daring to smile. Even his arms loop around your waist, embracing gently with their hold.

“What about June?” You clip the brief question and it is long before you shrug out of Rick’s touch.

“It was fake.” He seems to lie. You know damn-well that he slipped off his wedding ring just days before the mission even started. “Caring about her was genuine, though.”

“Uh huh.” You fold both arms, giving him one leftward but sided view of the wedding ring that you still wore right now.

He steps closer, and by some miracle, you somehow allow him to kiss the top of your head. Despite anger, you still know that he returned home in one piece. Alive.

“Nobody else but you.” His accent deepens, cutting down words and sounding just like his father. C’mere.”

“What?” You tilt your head, smirking.

Your arms unfold and he earns the chance to hold you close now, ending space between you both. Your forehead bumps against his and he smiles towards underneath the brim of his Task Force X cap. His hazel eyes, while veiled, bore into your soul again.

“Look.” That quick instruction falls from his lips, but still sounds oddly gentle. He carefully lifts his capable but veined hand, revealing the sight of his gold wedding band.

In truth, you could have melted right there, feeling deliciously weak because of that damn voice alone.

“You mine, is that what you’re saying?” You dare to tease back, clearing your throat and licking your lips towards him.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He affirms that truth with the utmost respect, finally leaning inward to kiss you.

___________

Both tattoos and scars line his lean but agile frame as he looms over you, trailing kisses all over your nude body. As of now, The bedroom is quite dark, but moonlight casts from the nearest window, shrouding you both in shadows later that evening.

He plunges into your core, almost whimpering himself once he realizes how warm you feel while clutching around him. Even as the condom protects you both, your warmth feels exhilarating, much-needed, overdue.

“Fuck.” You barely say. With each passing moment, his thrusts within prove torturous and slow, as if you would never allow him to touch you again after tonight.

“I love you.” He reaches out and grasps your palm, squeezing your hand and moving even deeper inside of you. “I love you so much.”

Before you can mention another sane word, his thrusts quicken, almost feeling otherworldly. To make matters he stares down at you with those perfect hazel eyes.

“I’m close..” You whisper beneath him, moving closer and closer towards the edge.

“Come on…Please.” He then asks, gently speaking by the shell of your ear once more.

“Yes.” Your warmth finally spills, coating him without fail before he could even try first.

“Damn.” His eyes roll back, shutting as his brows furrow in the name of his own ecstasy now.

You can barely sit up before his lips return to your, quieting any upcoming words. This time, he moans into your mouth, desperate to make you comprehend that unspoken promise.

“I love you.” Three words reveal themselves once you are finally allowed to speak, free from the clutch of his lips.

“Tell me again. Please tell me.” He caresses your face. His voice nearly hitches, overwhelmed by forgiveness of a sin that never even happened. He was terrified of losing you and tonight almost felt undeserving until you answered him now.

“I love you. I love you.” You repeat yourself, trying to cement the gravity of this moment.

“I love you too, Darlin.’” His accent returns and he falls asleep in your arms, still resting inside of you.

__________

You wake up to kisses in the morning and earn breakfast in bed for the first time in months. Despite considering what happened last night, the gestures seemed surprising to you regardless.

“What now? Are you just gonna spoil me up until the next deployment?” You sit up against pillows, eyeing Rick as he lays beside you.

“Been wanting to do that, with or without the deployment.” Rick laughs between words and kisses your cheek.

“Thank you.” You smirk anyway,

“You’re welcome.” Rick says, halfway embracing your hip. In turn, you only end up landing on your back and softly hitting the sheets.

“Oh, no. Going for round two, Flag?” You chuckle as his shadow and tattooed armed cage you again, still looming.

“Only if you want.” He asks for consent of course, kindly smiling down towards your face.

“Sounds good to me.” You wink.

#minors dni #smut warning #rick flag #2016 suicide squad #joel kinnaman #dc movies #movies #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x reader #my baby boy #that's my man #finally writing again #minors do not interact

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Text

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 9 - this world is not my home

summary: it’s been a long, long time, but you find almost familiar face in your brand new world.

warnings: nada

a/n: more of a look into super soldier!reader and more character introductions :)

(series masterlist) (main masterlist) (ao3)

You dream for a very long time.

It’s a strange kind of dreaming, the kind that feels like it’s not quite happening to you, but more like you’re simply watching it unfold. It’s fuzzy, blurred around the edges. It takes some time, but you realize eventually that you have some control over it.

You don’t know how much time passes, but you don’t care. You just keep dreaming.

You dream your life together. You and Bucky. Bucky and you.

At first, it ends in a nightmare. It ends with you watching him be thrown from the train, hearing his helpless screams as his body descended down the mountain. After a while, as you gain control, you push the nightmare away. You make a new ending. A happy ending.

You dream your life back in Brooklyn. You dream that the war is ended, that things return to being as normal as they can be. You buy a house near the pier, you have kids, you visit your parents often.

But you always return to the same dream. The dance hall in Brooklyn, Bucky’s arms around you, dancing to a tune you can’t quite remember.

Eventually, you grow tired. You can’t control the dreams anymore. For a while, the dancing plays on a loop, over and over again.

More time passes. You’re not aware of it.

Then you hear it. Absently, an echo, a whisper that barely sinks through to your consciousness.

“Oh my god,” someone says. “They’re still alive!”

After he woke up, after the initial shock faded slightly – only slightly, Steve knew it would take years for the shock to completely disappear – he asked after you. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to bury his friend. You deserved a proper funeral, after everything you’d been through.

Two bodies had gone into the ice, and he knew for a fact that two bodies had come out. They’d pulled the Valkyrie wreckage from the water, inspected every inch of the plane. You’d been in the cockpit with him when he’d put it down. You had to be there somewhere.

But they’d denied every request he made, claimed you were government property now, told him that they’d hand you over after your body had been thoroughly inspected. It made him uneasy.

They gave him a box full of photos and files, details of his time as Captain of the Howling Commandos. Hidden among the files, he found a picture of you and Bucky. It looked like your wedding day, the edges worn and the photo cracked in some places. His chest ached when he remembered; Bucky kept the photo with him, had brought it along on every mission. The other men had ribbed him for it, but Steve understood. It was no different than the picture of Peggy tucked inside his compass.

And so he waited. Patiently, impatiently, it differed from day to day.

When Fury comes him, that night in the gym, he’s nearly run out of patience. He’s done waiting. But Fury is preoccupied, more concerned with the Tesseract and the man that took it that anything else. It sets Steve’s teeth on edge. “Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know?”

“You should have left it in the ocean.” He tosses the punching bag he’s carrying into the corner, turns back to Fury. “I’ll help, under one condition.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Captain.”

“I think I’ve waited long enough, sir. She deserves peace. I just want to bury her. That’s all.”

“Your friend?” Fury asks. “The one who was onboard the Valkyrie with you?”

Steve nods. “She was my…” He swallows hard. “She was the wife of my best friend, Sergeant Barnes. She was there, when he was thrown from the train that day.”

Fury nods. “I’ve read the reports.”

“I didn’t know,” Steve continues, “that she was onboard. I had no idea she was there until I…until I had to put it down. It’s miracle enough I survive all these years, but she went through enough. Please, sir.”

Fury is watching him with a wry look, mouth twitching at the corners. “That might be more easily said than done.”

Steve’s fists clench at his sides. “Sir, all I am asking for is-”

“Easier said than done, Captain, because she’s still alive.”

Before he boards the plane with Agent Coulson, he asks to see you. It’s a thinly veiled demand. He’d broken three more punching bags after Fury had told him you were still alive.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he’d fumed.

Fury had only lifted a shoulder. “You didn’t ask. And we needed to be sure.”

“How?” he asked.

“We’re not quite sure just yet. But she’s under careful watch, best doctors S.H.I.E.L.D. has access to are looking over her as we speak. She seems to be in a coma of some sorts. We haven’t been able to reverse it just yet.”

Agent Coulson is much more agreeable than Fury, and takes Steve to the medical ward they’re holding you in on the way to board the Helicarrier. It breaks his heart. But Fury wasn’t lying, you’re alive.

From what they can tell, you had been injected with the same super soldier serum that Steve had, all those years ago. It wasn’t clear, but based on the timeline of events, the guess was that Zola had done it while he’d held you captive. Where he’d gotten the serum, they weren’t sure.

You look the same, your features buried beneath tubes and wires. There’s a machine breathing for you with a tube down your throat, a monitor beside your bed showing the still steady beat of your heart. He drops to his knees beside the bed, taking your tape-covered hand in his. You’re warm, and Steve has to blink back the tears that instantly form.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Coulson comes to collect Steve sometime later. He hasn’t moved from his spot. “It’s time to go, Captain.”

Reluctantly, Steve gets to his feet. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter, like you’re dreaming, and he drags himself away to join Coulson.

“Let’s go,” is all he says.

What follows is a welcome distraction, and Steve will admit that you’re in the back of his mind, but he forces the image of you laid up in that hospital bed from his mind long enough to get the job done. The battle of New York leaves him exhausted, but hopeful. They got something right. It was a start. Even if Tony Stark seemed to have the handbook on how to get on every last one of Steve’s nerve. Annoying, but the way he and Banner talk makes him think they might be able to help you.

Steve gives them quite a speech, giving them what details he has. Banner agrees quickly, ready to help. When Steve says your name, however, Stark’s eyes light up.

“Y/N Barnes?” he repeats. “She worked with my father. During the war.”

Steve just nods. “She worked in his lab. Helped him design the shield, actually.”

“I’ll help,” Tony agrees. “Dad never shut up about that one. Happy to help.”

“Thank you, Tony, “ he replies. “Truly.”

Three days later, you open your eyes.

The first face you see is Steve’s.

He wears a blue plaid shirt, a brown leather jacket that’s nearly tight around his broad shoulders. His face is the same as you remember, a small smile on his mouth, his blue eyes kind, blonde hair falling in his eyes. He looks the same, but still there’s something different. Something is…off. Not wrong, you don’t think. Your senses don’t prickle in response to any immediate danger, and your body feels too weak to move.

You keep blinking, becoming more and more aware of your surroundings. There’s some kind of mask on your face, forcing air into your lungs, and you can feel a needle in the back of your hand. The room you’re in is not familiar, but nothing is, except for Steve.

You’ve been asleep for a very long time. You’ve been dreaming for a very long time.

“How long?” is the first thing you ask. Your voice feels like sandpaper in your throat, and Steve helps you sip from a cup of water, holding it close to your lips so you don’t have to move.

“Seventy years,” he replies. “Give or take.”

“Seventy,” you whisper, blinking hard. The light in the room is dim, thank god, but your head is starting to bound. “How did…I…?”

Steve blinks at you, confusion on his face. “You don’t know?”

You shake your head slightly. “I remember…the plane, the bombs. You and Schmidt fought, and then…cold.” Your hands flex, and Steve reaches for one of them, holding it between his. His palms are warm, and the feeling is comforting. “But how…?”

There the sound of a door opening, and a man you don’t recognize steps in. Or maybe you do. He’s handsome, dark eyes and dark hair, facial hair that’s neatly trimmed. He wears an impeccable grey suit in a style you don’t recognize, a purple tie and pocket square to match. He steps to where Steve sits, touches his shoulder once. A face appears in your mind, a memory. Howard? “The same way the old man here did.” Even the voice is similar.

Your brow furrows. “I’m…confused.”

“Looking at your biochemistry,” the man says, and your head is pounding, “you were injected with the same serum that made Rogers the man he is today. It saved your life, when you went into the ice.”

You just blink at him. Steve turns and looks at the man. “Slow down, Tony. This is all a bit much.”

But you squeeze his hand. “No, tell me,” you say, looking at the man, Tony. “I want to know.”

“When Zola captured you,” Steve says, “he experimented on you. He injected you with the serum Erskine had developed, but no one knows how he got his hands on it.”

The memory slides through your brain. “I had it,” you say, and both Steve and Tony are looking at you, wide-eyed. “Before…before you were…changed, Erskine paid me a visit. He’s gave me five vials of the serum. I brought it with me when we went to Italy, and kept it hidden when I was working with Howard. I never told anyone, not even...” You swallow hard. “It was on me when I was captured.”

“But you don’t remember him injecting you with it?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest. God, he’s so much like Howard. Seventy years, does that make him…Howard’s son?

“They kept me drugged, for the most part,” you reply. “Zola told me what he’d done to…” You trail off, pain shooting through your skull. “Then I was on the train, and then we-”

A scream echoes through your mind. A memory. A nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s okay,” you hear Steve say, and his grip on your hand tightens. “You’re okay.”

Seventy years, you’d been dreaming. Seventy years. You shouldn’t have survived, but you did. Whatever Zola had done…

“Zola captured Bucky,” you say, your eyes blinking open. You’re staring at Steve. “He experimented on him too. So what did he get? If he’s the same as us, then there’s a chance. He could have survived the fall. He could have-”

“They never found his body, Y/N,” Steve says instantly, and it makes grief seep through your chest like a blanket of ice. “Not all of it.”

Before either of them can say another word, you lurch over the side of the bed and throw up.

When you wake a few hours later, Steve is gone. Tony sits in the chair he’d been occupying, hands folded in front of him, eyes on yours. “There she is.”

“You’re Howard’s son,” you say, and he just nods.

“That I am.”

You move slowly, adjusting yourself in the bed, turning onto your side. It’s more comfortable. “Your father was a good friend.”

Tony smiles. “I’ve been told so were you.”

“Is he…?” Alive?

There’s a flash in Tony’s eyes, and his gaze falters slightly from yours.

You swallow hard. How many of the people you’d known are gone? “When?”

“Twenty years ago,” he replies, his eyes finally snapping back to yours. “It was a car crash. Doctors said they died instantly, him and Mom.”

Tears fill your eyes. “Where’s Steve?”

“Old man went for a walk,” Tony says. “Said I’d watch over you. I’m working on a fix, for this…” He gestures to you, the tubes and wires. “Whatever this is. You’ve got good people in your corner.”

You nod. “Thank you.”

He waves it off. “Don’t mention it. I heard enough stories about you as a kid, all the designs you helped with. You’re a legend in the Stark household.”

You snort a little laugh. “Do you know what’s wrong with me? If I was given the same serum as Steve, shouldn’t I be…”

“Six foot of muscle, with the shoulder to waist ratio of a tortilla chip?” Tony responds, grinning. When you just blink in response, he keeps talking. “I’ve looked over the notes from the experiment on Rogers. Pops used Vita-rays to turn him into the giant hunk of man candy he is now, but it was a one-time use. The whole machine was destroyed in the process. Rogers got the full treatment, you just got the serum. But in a way, it still saved you. When you went into the water, your body went into hibernation. That’s how you stayed alive all those years, but it sapped your strength.” He pats your hand. “Like I said, don’t worry, I’m working on a solution. Banner, too.”

“Banner?”

He waves his hand again. “A friend. Chemist, genius, occasionally turns into a giant green rage monster.” Again, you just blink. “I’m joking, mostly.”

The door opens, and Steve steps inside. He has a stack of papers and files and notebooks in his hands. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” you say. Tony gets up out of the chair, holds his arm out as Steve brushes past him to take it, and then heads for the door.

“I’ll be in touch,” is all he says, and then he disappears out the door.

Steve settles into the chair, sets the stack of paper on the edge of the bed you’re in. “I thought I’d fill you in,” he says, reaching for the top file, “on what we missed.”

The world you’ve woken up in is wildly different from what you left behind.

In a way, it doesn’t shock you – seventy years was bound to change a few things, but the advances in technology blow your mind. And the food? So much better. You used to boil everything.

Tony visits often, giving you updates on how his solution to your problem is coming along. You meet Dr. Bruce Banner as well, a quiet, soft-spoken man who tends to hide in Tony’s shadow. He’s kind and has a certain kind of hurt behind his eyes that you can’t quite read, but don’t want to pry into.

The pain in your head ebbs a bit with every day that passes. Steve brings you more books and files and notebooks each time he visits, which is often. You’re still weak; it takes a lot of effort to move your limb, and there’s a constant electrolyte drip in your arm. (You’d had to ask Tony exactly what an electrolyte was.) It takes a few months, but eventually they start you with a physical therapist, to help your muscles recover. Soon enough, you’re doing laps around the hospital ward, usually leaning some of your weight on Steve, or Tony.

You and Tony get along as well as you and Howard had, if not better. He’s funnier than his father, quick-witted and silver-tongued. He makes jokes a lot, and, similar to Bruce, you can see a certain kind of pain behind his eyes when he talks about his father.

You share stories of your own, what you remember of Howard, your brief but meaningful time together. Tony listens intently, sharing what information his father had told him about you. “Pops admired the hell out of you.”

“I admired the hell out of him.”

“I know it’s sounds like a long shot right now,” Tony tells you, “but once you’re back on your feet again, there could be a place for you at Stark Industries. The R and D department could use you. Hell, you could run it.”

You gave him a wry smile. “Might be some time before I’d have an ideas that would actually be useful. My brain is still running on 1945 time.”

Tony just smiled back at you, but before he left the hospital that day, he left a small silver device beside your bed, accompanied by a small book titled User Guide, and a small note stuck to the screen.

Welcome to the future.

“I’m about to become your new favourite person,” Tony announces as he walks into your room. He’s dressed much more casually today, in a black leather jacket and a shirt with some kind of art on the front. You’re still getting used to the fashion, now sporting a white long-sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants as your hospital attire. You were grateful to get out of the cotton gown. “Mission accomplished.”

He’s holding a silver briefcase, and sets it on the rolling table beside your bed, flicking the locks and lifting the lid. He pulls out a pouch of something, something silvery that glints in the light, and walks over to the standing holding your IV fluids. The pouch he holds it half the size of the bag dripping into your arm.

“More serum?” you ask.

He grins. “Something like that. I unearthed a box of Dad’s old journals. The experiment on Rogers is all common knowledge by now, but I thought he would have kept some of the info to himself. Sure enough, I found a clue. Then another and another, Banner did something…chemical, and just like that, solution complete.”

“You’re sure it’s gonna work?”

“What’s life without a little risk?” he retorts, and then chuckles when your eyes go wide. “That was a joke, Y/N. Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t take a chance on you like that.” He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezes light. “Steve would pummel me into the ground.”

You giggle. “He probably would.”

“Not probably,” Tony says. “Would.”

As if on cue, the door to your room opens, and Steve appears, smiling his hellos. He takes the chair on the opposite side of the bed and puts a hand on your leg. “You ready?”

You nod, suddenly eager.

“Now, you might get a little sleepy,” Tony says, “but let’s get started.”

Tony’s hands are quick as he pulls the tube that’s dripping into your arm from the bag of clear fluids and attaches it to the silver bag. He hangs it on the hook, and the silver serum fills the tube. You watch as it travels down towards the needle in your hand, and as it slips beneath your skin, you can see it travelling up your arm, tracing your veins. Your eyes are instantly heavy, and you lean back against the pillow, head tipping back.

Panic fills your gut, but Tony puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s all right. It’s part of the process. Quick nap, and you’ll be good as new.”

Steve’s face is the last thing you see before you slide quickly into sleep. There are no dreams, no nightmares. Just sleep.

Your eyes blink open. You roll your head to the side, looking up at where Tony had hung the serum. The pouch is empty, along with the tube leading to the needle in your hand. You flex your fingers, lifting your hand and turning your wrist over. Your skin is clean, and you can’t see the serum moving through your veins anymore.

You blink hard again.

Everything is in…perfect focus. You’d never really needed glasses, but it was enough that the edges blurred slightly. Now…you could see everything perfectly, colours were more vibrant, details were sharpened. You inhaled heavily, and you could smell a cup of fresh coffee a nurse was pouring down the hall. You pushed yourself up easily, your body moving as easily as it once had, if not easier. There were no aches in your joints, no pinches in your muscle. Everything just…flowed.

You look around the room, still in awe of the clarity, and your eyes land on the television that’s mounted on the wall. Your vision focuses, and then it changes; you can see through the screen, to the wiring behind it. You can see every connection and wire, where they all lead and how they work.

And what’s more…it makes sense. You know why each wire is place how it is, you know why it works the way that it does. You know without a shadow of a doubt that you could rip the television from the wall, cut every wire and break every connection, and still know how to put it back together. You can’t explain it, you’re just sure. More sure than you’ve ever been of anything in your life.

Well, except one thing.

You reach for your left hand, fingers closing around your fourth finger, your bare knuckle. When you close your eyes, you summon a memory, but the nightmare comes first. The blast, the creak of metal, the screaming.

You push through it to a happier one, the happiest one you have. Wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, standing at the end of the pier. Your head is leaned back on his shoulder, and as you stare up at the stars, Bucky’s lips whisper behind the shell of your ear.

“I love you.”

#the way we were / the way we are #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier fic #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x y/n #my fics

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cheesefanboy2 · 1 year

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I am requesting general Anni and Elias hc's! Gimme your thoughts!

General Anni and Evan hcs

Note: Don't think I told you this, but I changed his name to Evan so people stop getting confused lol. This was fun to make, feel free to send me writing ideas for the two.

♤ Anni and Evan are both insomniac messes tbh. Their eyes are both sunken, while they tiredly try to complete missions. They absolutely struggle from the lack of sleep.

♤ The funny thing about it is, Anni is always scolding him for not getting enough sleep- even if she got like eight minutes of sleep.

♤ They definitely chug coffee and probably have broken the coffee machine at this point. Caffeine is a number one priority, their mission is the second.

♤ They get along well because of how similar their personalities are, they're both just done with everyone's weird ass bullshit and watch drama unfold.

♤ They definitely have similar taste in music, and just blast it in the car. They hog the aux and Varrick probably gets annoyed, because it's just constant loop of, "Okay just let me play this one last song–"

♤ Evan records videos of people while they're drunk, and sends the to Anni so she can have blackmail on people. This is definitely canon.

♤ Both of them are usually the mature and level-headed ones, but at times, Anni gets mischievous and Evan DEFINITELY joins in. They secretly instigate a lot of fights and it's so funny because nobody blames them.

♤ Anni is probably the only one that Evan listens to music with, because she isn't loud or constantly trying to change the song. They just vibe really well together.

♤ Since Evan still lives in the human world, he usually updates Anni on all the major things that happen and even drives her to new places she's never got the chance to see.

♤ He lost a bet with her once, and it resulted in him having to get a new tattoo of HER choice. He was not happy at first, but he became amused when he saw what she chose.

♤ Has gotten Cassie her own pair of cute, pink, Hello Kitty headphones and Anni was very pleased.

♤ Evan has a little sister that favors Anni more than him, he's gotten very salty about that. But ultimately, finds it very amusing.

♤ Anni is probably the only one who laughs at his shitty ass jokes. Whenever he awkwardly cracks one, she will be the only one laughing while everyone else is groaning and rolling their eyes at him.

♤ Tbh, they probably toss dad jokes at each other and everyone hates them for it. "Can you guys just SHUT UP!?"

♤ They challenged to see who could chug more whiskey in one go, and Anni ended up winning. Evan blacked out and she had to drunkenly drag him home.

♤ They accidentally blew up the kitchen once and blamed it on Jeff. They got away with it because they're seen as the "level-headed" ones.

♤ They fall asleep while listening to music sometimes, and the speaker is just blasting while they're both knocked out on the ground.

♤ They're actually a really good pair when it comes to missions. Evan doesn't exactly work for anyone, he does an odd job here and there, but that's about it. But occasionally, he'll help out on missions if it's requested and they're a really good team. (Whose surprised tho? They're very similar.)

#anni and evan hours #simp party

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 2 years

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Real Is The Love - Chapter 12 (Isaac Lahey x Reader)

[gif source]

Summary: Isaac, well past his supernatural teenage troubles has settled down with his girlfriend, y/n. They're both advancing in their careers when a surprise pregnancy throws them for a loop. The next several months are filled with lots of laughs, love, odd cravings, and a few tears. As always, peace only lasts for so long in Beacon Hills...

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: pregnancy, violence, cursing

a/n: hiii! the bitch is back writing lauren is back from the dead & might be here to stay for the summer :)

series master list | main master list

Dark is the night when you're feeling all alone

Weak is the light when you're feeling far from home

February

“Kira is walking out of the office now, heading to y/n’s car” Scott spoke, relaying the info to Isaac and Malia, who sat in a separate car further down the road. Isaac watched the scene unfold with an ice-cold glare. If looks could kill, he’d be charged with murder.

The plan was devised last night at a hastily called pack meeting. Scott, Kira, Malia, Liam, Mason, and Corey all but descended upon Isaac and y/n’s apartment, everyone arriving within 20 minutes of receiving the SOS text. Like, a real SOS this time. Once Stiles and Lydia were on facetime, y/n told the pack about the SUV that had been following her. Within 10 minutes, Stiles had pulled up the security camera footage from the past 72 hours at both y/n’s office and the grocery store she regularly visited. No one asked him just how he got the footage so quickly, but after receiving a few blank stares Stiles simply muttered, “I know a guy,” with his eyes still trained intensely on his computer screen.

The security tapes turned out to be a dead end. The SUV’s license plate was fake and wasn’t recognized in any federal or state databases, so the pack was back to square one. It was decided that y/n would start maternity leave early and move to a safe house while Kira posed as y/n in an attempt to draw out the stalkers, much to y/n’s dismay.

Lydia caught the last flight of the night from D.C. to California and met y/n, Corey, and Mason at the safe house in the wee hours of the morning while the rest of the pack carried out their respective roles of the plan (read: recon mission). Kira got dressed at y/n and Isaac’s apartment, disguising herself as her heavily pregnant friend, the look complete with a fake baby bump, some of y/n’s work clothes, a wig, and sunglasses. Scott and Liam spent the night at the apartment as well, in case anyone tried to ambush the apartment overnight. It was a sleepless night for everyone, including y/n, despite her best efforts. She knew her stress was bad for the baby, but her fears were rattling her to her core and weren’t showing signs of letting up anytime soon.

Scott and Liam drove a rental car, leaving the apartment complex shortly after Kira drove y/n’s car to the law office she worked at. Halfway to the office, the same black SUV from the security tapes pulled out from a partially hidden dirt road, unknowingly sandwiching itself between Kira, Scott, and Liam. Kira audibly gasped over the coms, but she kept her focus and pulled into y/n’s designated parking spot. Scott and Liam positioned themselves in the adjacent parking lot, just out of the black SUV’s sight line. Isaac and Malia, in their own rental car (“Neither of your sports cars are discreet!” Lydia argued over the phone last night), backed into the thick brush and overgrowth alongside the road Kira planned to drive down when y/n was scheduled to go on her lunch break.

Hours felt like days as the pack waited until Kira was scheduled to leave the office. The tension in each car could be sliced with a knife. For the most part, things were quiet. Silent even, save for the rustling of papers from Kira’s com mic as she packed up some files for y/n and the aggressive taps as Isaac texted y/n for updates.

10:13 a.m. How are you doing, babe? How’s bean? Do you feel okay? – Isaac

10:14 a.m. We’re fine. Just like I said ten minutes ago. and 20 minutes ago. and 30 minutes ago. – y/n

10:15 a.m. I just need to know that you’re safe. – Isaac

y/n knew it was coming from a place of love and concern, but her patience was wearing thin.

When noon finally rolled around, Kira practiced her near-perfect third-trimester waddle out to y/n’s car and confirmed the route over the coms. The plan was for Kira to take a scenic route to no destination in particular. The road she eventually pulled onto saw enough traffic that it wouldn’t seem strange for two cars to be following after the black SUV from a short distance but was quiet enough that a mild vehicular ambush wouldn’t be noticed.

Once they reached a particularly deserted strip of the road, Scott gave the signal. Go.

The gas pedal met the floor as Isaac accelerated, boxing the SUV in on the left side while Scott sped up to box the SUV in from behind. The black car sped up along with them, forcing Kira to accelerate and creating a cataclysmic chain reaction leading to the four cars barreling down the small background at almost 90 miles an hour.

The crackling of the coms could still be heard over the roar of engines when Isaac gave the second signal, his voice seeping through as a low growl. Now.

On cue, Isaac dropped back just as Scott accelerated and clipped the rear right corner of the black SUV, causing it to spin out quickly into an unfinished demolition site along the right side of the road, fractions of a second after Kira sped out of the way. While the driver of the SUV was still disoriented from the violent spin, Kira, Scott, and Isaac rushed to corner the black car against a crumbling concrete wall.

Once the dust settled, Malia let out a humorless laugh as the silhouette of airbags could be seen through the windshield of the SUV. Isaac was the first person to approach, rather, charge at the immobilized car. Before he could get there, a slightly disoriented Chris Argent stepped out with his hands up in surrender. The shock of seeing Argent stopped everyone in their tracks, including Isaac.

“Chris? What the fuck are you doing here?” shouted Isaac, stalking towards the man who took him in during his move to France. Malia and Liam stood back, muttering to each other as they watched the scene unfold, while Scott cautiously moved with Isaac.

“What am I doing here? Why did you run my car off the road?” Chris panted, hands on his knees as he regained his breath.

“Why were you following y/n?” Scott butted in as a poor attempt to diffuse the situation. Each man had their chest puffed out, like another alpha male showdown that was all too common with this bunch. Chris sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face before addressing Scott and Isaac directly.

“We’re not going to get anywhere if we answer each other’s questions with more questions.” The air was still tense and Isaac’s stare only grew sharper by the second. Deadly, even. His body was still, though there was a rage vibrating beneath the surface. A rage Chris knew all too well. With another heavy sigh, Chris spoke again.

“Morrell asked me to keep an eye on y/n today. Said you guys were worried about her safety.”

“Morrell? Marin Morrell? Why the hell would she be concerned about us? We haven’t spoken to her in years.” Chris didn’t miss the way that Isaac said us when he spoke about y/n. If his car wasn’t nearly totaled and he wasn’t surrounded by werewolves and inadequately armed, he might’ve pulled a small smile at the love Isaac clearly felt for y/n.

“She said that-,” Chris began to explain again before his face fell and he realized the disconnect. The pack had no idea that Morrell had been ‘watching out for them’, nor that she had asked Chris to help with surveillance. “...shit.”

y/n, Lydia, Mason, and Corey had been camped out at the safehouse all morning. Everything was going smoothly, save for y/n’s freshly chewed-off fingernails; the security system was triple checked, no alarms were tripped, and the four were in near-constant communication with the rest of the pack. Until about noon, that is. They’d reviewed the plan half a dozen times this morning. It was simple, really, save for the fact that they’d be flying by the seat of their pants after immobilizing the black SUV.

y/n was spaced out and stressed at the same time as she laid on the couch with her head in Lydia’s lap. Possible outcomes and probabilities ran through the red head’s mind while her fingers gently moved across y/n’s scalp, unsuccessfully attempting to alleviate her stress. Mason and Corey were so focused on the card game they’d brought along to pass the time that they almost didn’t notice the small red flashing light from the security system control panel. Almost.

“Guys, we got a problem,” Corey spoke up uncharacteristically loudly. He dropped his hand of cards on the floor before rushing to look at the security monitors with Mason right behind him. y/n sat up fast enough that blood rushed from her head, momentarily distracting her from the Braxton Hicks contractions she hadn’t told anyone about.

The four of them crowded around in front of the security system screens and watched in horror as one by one, the cameras went out. Within seconds, it was all dark. The only remaining function was the blinking red light signaling that an exterior door had been opened.

“Hide,” Lydia rasped out before grabbing y/n’s hand with the intention to find a safer spot within the safe house. Ironic, isn’t it. Corey took Mason’s hand and backed against the wall, the two seeming to vanish into thin air. Neither pair got far before one final loud blare sounded from the remains of the security system, just before a nearby door was blown in, knocking y/n and Lydia off their feet. Dust hung heavy in the air and a shrill ringing pierced everyone’s ears. Except for the intruder, of course. She had the foresight to bring earplugs.

The shallow thud of boots was the first thing to distract y/n from the ringing in her ears. The second was the familiar face that appeared once the dust settled.

“You would not believe how hard it is for an emissary to get in touch with a pack these days.” Lo and behold, Marin Morrell stood before them, methodically stepping forward. Lydia stumbled onto her feet and pulled y/n up behind her before the banshee took on a defensive stance. The blood dripping from the scrapes on both women served as a poor distraction for y/n from another ripple of cramping throughout her belly.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” Morrell smirked. Her words weren’t as menacing as one might have expected, but they definitely weren’t innocent and were far from reassuring. “Honestly, I’m surprised the rest of the pack left the two of you here alone.” Lydia kept her eyes trained on Morrell and an arm wrapped around y/n, while the latter made sure not to shift her gaze towards the wall too obviously. In her peripheral vision she saw Corey appear for a split second and wink in her direction before vanishing again, well outside of Morrell’s sight line.

A quick smirk adorned Morrell’s face as she glanced at a notification on her phone. “Looks like the rest of the party is about to arrive,” she said as she pulled a glass jar of mountain ash from her pocket and shattered it on the floor around her, forming a large circle. Clever girl.

A tense silence fell between the three women. Morrell’s eyes wandered around the room, snapping back to the two women in front of her on occasion. Lydia’s glare didn’t waver from the emissary, despite y/n’s nails digging into her shoulder as she struggled to contain groans of pain from what she wasn’t quite sure were Braxton Hicks contractions anymore.

“Were you playing cards, ladies?” Morrell questioned nicely after seeing the stack of cards and two scattered hands. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife and the emissary didn’t have all day. Corey and Mason briefly appeared again, this time against the wall Morrell’s back was turned to. Both men had their eyes trained on Lydia for a signal.

“Nope,” Lydia said dryly, popping the ‘p’ at the end. If Morrell had been paying closer attention, she might’ve noticed the slight downward tilt of Lydia’s chin. Corey and Mason vanished once again and before Morrel could ask any more questions, both of her wrists had been snatched from her sides and secured behind her back. An invisible force delivered a blow to Morrell’s legs, knocking her feet out from underneath her.

Corey and Mason reappeared at the same time the rest of the pack and Chris Argent came barreling through the door. Isaac’s wild eyes darted around the room then finally rested on y/n before he began sprinting towards her, pulling her away from Lydia and into his arms. The sob that wracked through y/n’s body broke Isaac’s heart and intensified the rage he felt within. Isaac left it up to the rest of the pack to handle Morrell while he checked y/n over for any injuries. The worst of the physical damage seemed to be a few bloody scrapes on her arms, so Isaac pulled y/n’s head into his chest and rubbed her back soothingly, using his body as a shield from the unfolding scene.

“I won’t ask again. What are you doing here?” Scott asked in a low rumble, punctuating each word. He was tense yet collected. Isaac was glad he let Scott take the lead from here, as he knew he wouldn’t be able to exhibit the same restraint as the alpha. Morrell let out a short huff, frustrated that what she thought were the two weakest links of the pack had gotten the jump on her. Still, she maintained her poker face.

“I’m doing what I’ve always done–maintaining the balance,” Morrell explained, her tone even. Her ability to stay calm while surrounded by a pack of angry werewolves was impressive, but it wasn’t lost on anyone that this wasn’t her first rodeo.

“Like hell you are! You lied to me,” Chris spoke up, anger painting his own features. It was true that he didn’t have as deep of an emotional investment in the situation as the rest of the pack, but he definitely didn’t appreciate being fooled and screwed over.

“Save it, Argent. This isn’t about you,” Morrell bit out as she slowly made her way back to a standing position. “This is about y/n, Isaac, and the thing she’s been growing for 9 months now.” Morrell’s voice was cold. Clinical, even. Before anyone could protest, she continued.

“I get it. It’s your baby and you want to protect it. I’m sorry we had to meet like this, but you need to know that I’m the least of your worries. I had a feeling Deaton was hiding something from me, hell, everyone and decided to look into it,” Morrell paused to deliver a pointed glance to y/n and Isaac. The realization that there wasn’t a physical threat to handle lifted a weight off of everyone’s shoulders, but their claws were still out. Literally.

“If word gets out that there’s a half-human-half-werewolf baby in Beacon Hills, none of you will be safe. If you think I was curious, just imagine what other packs and hunters will be like…” Morrell trailed off, the weight of her words hanging over everyone as her serious glance shifted from person to person.

A muffled groan from y/n broke through the tense silence, causing all eyes to shift towards her.

“y/n, baby, what’s wrong?” Isaac asked, pulling her from his chest so that he could see her face. Another grimace and a shaky inhale later, y/n rested a hand on her stomach before making eye contact with her fiance.

“I think I’m in labor.” Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Isaac shot a panicked look towards Lydia, who quickly stepped up and consoled the parents-to-be. Lydia took it upon herself to call Deaton while Kira called Melissa, leaving the rest of the pack to their own devices while Isaac, y/n, Lydia, and Kira went to the hospital.

Scott stepped towards Morrell and looked down to the floor when he felt resistance.

“Mountain ash. Really?” Scott was far from sadistic, but he got a good chuckle out of the defense that could only hold about half of the pack back. Mason bent down and broke the barrier, allowing the other members of the pack to surround the emissary. Malia was the first to speak up after Scott whilst she sized Morrell up from the side.

“Do I want to know where you got those handcuffs?” Malia asked curiously, not at all deterred by the blushes and smirks that began to grace her friends’ faces.

“No,” Corey and Mason answered simultaneously.

a/n: whoomp there it is :) full disclosure, after writing part 11 i had NO IDEA what i was going to do in part 12. i've had the final part planned for months now but this chapter?? a total mental road block. i'm super happy with how it turned out though!! lmk ur thoughts <3 part 13 will be out soon! (unlike the last time that i said the next part would be out soon, and then almost 6 months went by)

#isaacy lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf reader insert #isaac lahey x y/n #tw: pregnancy #cw: pregnancy #tw: violence

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notbeetle · 1 year

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Flat Earth Space Opera- Campaign Setting

Flat earthers come up with the wildest shit imaginable. Like, take for instance this person right here.

youtube

This person is legitimately arguing that there are pre-adamic extraterrestrials visiting Earth in spaceship-submarines, which travel through the primordial ocean to pass into our planet's oceans through holes in the great ice wall (what normal people know as "Antarctica")- the Antarctic treaty, according to them, exists to hide the existence of these underwater alien harbors.

this is the cosmology they genuinely believe in btw.

Anyways, this shit is so batshit insane it loops all the way around from terrifying conspiracy theory to interesting speculative fiction concept. So, a few ideas for how to incorporate this lunatic conspiracy theory into your campaign

Just drop it into your fantasy world- who says a flat earth fantasy setting can’t get a little Expedition to the Barrier Peaks? Either the players get abducted by extraterrestrials and have to fight their way out of the submarine dungeon or one of these things wrecks and the players delve into it’s battered shell for sci-fi treasure and shit.

Use it in urban fantasy. I have neither played nor read esoteric enterprises, but from what I’ve read of it, seems like it’s the right kind of vibe? Even if your setting has a round earth and shit, doesn’t neccesarily exclude this- these aliens don’t see space as we do. To us, the world may be round, but to them, it really is flat.

Still secret, but also setting focus- players are like, either illuminati spooks, on top-secret missions to spread the NWO outside the borders of one measly planet, or aliens trying to do the same to earth, fighting the men in black and shit

Not secret, campaign focus. Full space opera option. The world is, and always has been flat, and everyone knows it. Interplanetay travel is frequent, ongoing, and public. There are harbor cities in antarctica, where submarines both human and alien dock to unload their cargo and resupply. Empires and war stretch between worlds, as dramas on the scale of whole systems unfold. Human homeworld possibly not even called Earth, maybe different continents and such?

Anyways I made a few encounter generators

https://orteil.dashnet.org/randomgen/?gen=DPZgMBfC Here’s a generator for alien spaceship/submarines. Assumes options 2 or 3- aliens are both secret and infiltrating a modern world. TW for antisemitism, tried to capture the whole Icke-style conspiracy insanity

https://orteil.dashnet.org/randomgen/?gen=wQvZfdLi This one’s a generator for encounters in the primordial ocean between worlds. Hyperspace is filled with demons, so it stands to follow that the hyper-sea is filled with dragons, in the primordial chaos beast sense. Probably most appropriate for options 3 and 4, since it presupposes you’re doing submarine travel between worlds yourself

#worldbuilding #hawk.txt #Youtube

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witchcollabgame · 4 months

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Research - Non-Linear Narrative

GTA V:

"Grand Theft Auto V" features a ground-breaking non-linear narrative, allowing players to seamlessly switch between three protagonists—Michael, Franklin, and Trevor—each with their own story arcs and motivations. The game diverges from traditional linear storytelling, offering players the freedom to choose missions and explore the vast, intricately detailed open-world of Los Santos. This innovative approach creates a dynamic and player-driven storytelling experience within the context of the game's crime-ridden setting.

The main concept of playing as three protagonists at once makes the storytelling interesting with how they each have their own individual story's that occasionally collide with the other characters

Hades:

"Hades," developed by Supergiant Games, offers a captivating non-linear narrative that dynamically unfolds with each attempt at escaping the Underworld. As players control Zagreus on his quest, the game skilfully weaves a story that adapts to the player's progress and choices.

Rather than a traditional linear progression, "Hades" embraces the roguelike genre, with each failed escape attempt revealing new narrative layers. Characters remember past interactions, and the unfolding story responds to the player's victories and defeats. The non-linear narrative is enriched by the engaging dialogue and relationships formed with the gods, ghosts, and denizens of the Underworld.

In summary, "Hades" excels in its non-linear narrative by integrating the roguelike structure seamlessly into the storytelling experience. The game's adaptive narrative, coupled with well-developed characters and relationships, creates a dynamic and highly engaging experience for players as they navigate the ever-shifting challenges of the Underworld.

Outer Wilds:

"Outer Wilds," an indie exploration game by Mobius Digital, delivers a captivating non-linear narrative that defies traditional gaming conventions. The game places players in a time-loop scenario where they must uncover the mysteries of a miniature solar system before a supernova resets the cycle.

The non-linear narrative of "Outer Wilds" emerges as players choose their own paths, visiting planets and unravelling the interconnected stories at their own pace. With no set order for exploration, the narrative unfolds organically, revealing fragments of a larger cosmic puzzle. The game's time-loop mechanic allows players to revisit and reassess their discoveries, deepening their understanding of the overarching story.

In essence, "Outer Wilds" transforms the exploration of a dynamic solar system into an introspective and non-linear storytelling experience. The game's unique approach encourages players to piece together the narrative puzzle on their terms, fostering a sense of discovery and awe as they navigate the mysteries of the cosmos.

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sorcerymuses · 8 years

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Radar Technicians Chapter 5: “The Next Move”

Fandom: Star Wars (Episode VII)

Pairing: Reylo

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,523

Summary: After mutually sating their libidos, Rey and Kylo discuss the Force...or try to.

More: <- Movement in White/All Links

The next morning, Rey woke with an odd feeling of satisfaction. Maybe it was because of all the sex the night before. That was probably it, the satisfaction of finally sating her libido. There was, however, a tinge of some other feeling she couldn't quite place.

A glance at the chronometer told her that she had at least an hour before Ben would wake up and then another half hour after that before ‘breakfast'. So, she shifted in her bed into a meditative position, trying to concentrate. She had a mission, and a plan on how to complete it. It was very clear to her, and she hoped that either Ben wouldn't catch on or he'd help.

She recalled his all too familiar smirk from the night before and in her mind's eye, she brought an image of Han making a similar expression into view. The two looked almost the same, even if Han was much older. The similarities could have been a coincidence, of course, but she got the feeling it wasn't so.

She pushed that aside and considered the odd feelings that had hit her while she and Ben had been together. Somehow, it reminded her of that odd probing sensation she'd had when talking with Kailash back on D'Qar. Han had told her that the Force is a real thing, and she'd heard of some of the things the Force was capable of. She knew that mind reading was one of those things, but she didn't know if it was normal to actually feel the intrusion. She also didn't know if what had happened the night before, those altogether odd sensations were somehow Force related.

She pushed those worries aside and focused more on her plan. She'd have to figure out the surveillance system on the base, maybe even find a way to loop footage to avoid suspicion. She would also need patrol schedules. It wasn't going to be easy, and she hoped she'd have enough time to finish what she needed to get done before the standoff between the factions turned into open war.

"Rey," she heard Ben say and her eyes snapped open. A glance at the chronometer told her that an hour had already passed. She sighed and unfolded her limbs to get up and dress. "Do you meditate often?"

Kylo woke feeling refreshed. Then he felt a rippling in the Force. At first, he assumed it was his master checking in on him, but the signature was too pure for that to be the case. A bit of focus told him it was Rey. He sat up and looked over at her bed. Not surprisingly, some of the lighter things in the room were levitating with her unwitting use of the Force.

Quickly and quietly, he reached out with the Force to lower the objects back to their positions and stood. For some reason, he hoped that Snoke didn't notice that Rey was the one who had awakened to the Force. Curious about what she was thinking about, he lightly probed Rey's mind, but suddenly found himself blocked out by a completely different Force Signature.

Kailash, he thought bitterly, recognizing it. She must have pre-emptively put a block around Rey's mind…

That was well enough, he decided, as he wasn't sure what to do about this development just yet. If she caught on that he was a Force User, there was no telling what would happen. And he wasn't in the mood to explain why Kylo Ren was posing as a radar technician named Ben.

"Rey," he said after he finished sorting his own thoughts. The girl snapped out of her meditation and moved to get dressed. "Do you meditate often?" he questioned absently, following suit.

"I didn't even know I could manage it…," she replied softly, bending to retrieve fresh underwear.

Kylo watched her, the night before playing in his mind and making him almost want to ask if she would have him again right then and there. Of course, he kept that to himself as they both got dressed. There was no time for sex when they had less than half an hour to get to breakfast and then to their assignment for the day. The time constraint didn't stop him from thinking it, however.

"So…," he said after getting his pants on. "About last night…"

"What about it?" she asked softly.

"What does it mean?" he asked in return, unable to come to terms with it. He'd never woken up in the same room as someone he'd had sex with before, as they were all prostitutes.

"I'm…not sure," she replied quietly, almost too soft for him to catch. "For now, it was simply pent up lust…"

"And…," he trailed off, unsure how to voice his surprising concern about how their seeming friendship would be effected.

"I can compartmentalize," she said simply.

"So can I," he agreed. They finished getting ready, but before they got into the hall, Rey caught his hand.

"Ben, do you…know anything about the Force?" she murmured.

"I…," he paused. "No, not really," he lied after a long moment.

The day passed with relative ease, despite the feeling Rey got that Ben had lied to her that morning about his knowledge of the Force. They finished their assignments early and went to the library together, having formed a bit of a routine already. She would train Ben on the job, and when they finished, they'd go to the library, where he would study the texts on mechanics and she would study the base blueprints.

That day, however, she explored the library a bit, searching for information about the Force. Of course, she found history books detailing a version of the war between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance. Mention of Darth Vader was made in almost glowing embellishment. Rey put the text away and continued her search.

At a point, likely an hour in, she felt a similar pull to when that lightsaber had called to her with those horrible visions. She followed the pull to a shelf, but it was coming from above. So, she started the climb, hoping that when she touched whatever was calling out to her she wasn't caught up in another vision that might cause her to lose her grip and fall to the ground.

Kylo finished reading the last text on mechanics that he'd grabbed for the day, oddly enjoying himself yet again. He shut off the data pad and looked up to ask if Rey wanted to get an early dinner and call it a day, but she wasn't across the table from him as usual. He blinked in surprise. She spent every afternoon memorizing the base blueprints and any information on the weapon she could get hold of.

Concerned, he stacked his materials neatly and went on the hunt for her, searching carefully in the Force. He found her after about half an hour, scaling the shelves rather than using the ladder barely a metre away. He glanced around, trying to figure out what she was looking for. The general subject matter in that particular area was speculation on the Force from non-Sensitive writers. Kylo sighed tiredly and waited for her to come down.

When the former scavenger lighted on the ground, she seemed more than a little frustrated. It wasn't really surprising to him. After all, anything written by anyone properly educated in the Force, would be either in the Restricted Section, or at the old Sith Temple that Snoke called home. And he couldn't quite let her into the Restricted Section without revealing his true identity to her.

"Oh…Ben," Rey gasped, spotting him. "I guess it's already time to go to dinner?"

"It's a little early," he assured her. "What were you looking for?"

"It may sound strange, but information about the Force…," she sighed.

"It's not that strange. But why are you suddenly so interested in it?"

"Well, until recently, I thought the Force was just a myth…but then I saw…this woman on the Resistance base lifting things without touching them and training some of the fighters how to resist Force attacks…," she trailed off. "That bit didn't go so well…"

Kylo couldn't help but laugh a bit at her description, recalling a time when Kailash attempted to convince Luke to teach his students both to use and defend against the trademark powers of the Sith. Of course, the notion hadn't set well with his stubborn uncle. He had been told once that Luke had originally denied many of the old Jedi notions his teachers had attempted to push on him, but of course Kylo had no idea what changed the man's mind.

"You're probably not going to find anything on this base…," he murmured. "Maybe if we were at the Supreme Leader's home base…or wherever Kylo Ren's hiding out…"

"I guess you're right…," Rey agreed. "Well, let's go to dinner, shall we?"

After dinner, Rey went back to the room and tucked her find from the library under her bed. Ben came into the room a moment after she'd finished.

"So, what did you find in the library?" he asked lightly, sitting on his bed.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Ben…can I trust you?"

"Why would you ask that?" he questioned.

"Forget I asked," she said sharply, suddenly getting the feeling she was about to get in over her head with that topic.

"Rey, you can trust me," he sighed. She felt something like a prodding sensation against the edges of her awareness. Her new awareness of the Force, and recalling its famed tactics, she realized that the sensation was likely someone trying to read her mind without being caught.

"Are you…trying to read my mind?" she gasped, staring at him. "You can use the Force!"

"What? No, I'm—"

"I've felt someone poking around at the edge of my mind before," she snapped, cutting him off. "You're a Force user…!" she hissed.

And of course the first name that came to mind when she realized all of this, was Kylo Ren. Was this meant to be some form of test for former Resistance fighters? And if it was…what had it meant when he'd had sex with her the night before? Of course, her speculations would be mum if her guess was wrong.

"Rey, I'm not a Force user," he insisted.

"Ben," she bit. He flinched minutely at the name, as she'd gotten used to. "That's…not your real name, is it?"

"No…it is," he sighed, and she could tell he was telling the truth.

"So I suppose Kylo Ren is what? An alias?" she questioned, more harshly than she'd intended.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rey…," he said sharply.

"I can tell you're lying." Rey jabbed her finger into his chest. "All I want to know…is why…"

"You're a lot stronger than I thought…," he said softly, looking at his bed. She narrowed her eyes. "I'd hoped you wouldn't figure this out until later, if at all…"

"You're dodging my question," she pointed out.

"I'm being punished," he told her.

"Punished? For what?"

"Losing that damned droid, among a string of related failures."

"So…what? You messed up and got demoted?" she pressed.

"The Supreme Leader doesn't take failure well…," he sighed.

"Sounds familiar…," she muttered.

"Junk bosses not all that friendly?" he asked her, a semblance of a smirk forming on his wide lips.

"Depending on the situation…I've gone hungry for up to a week or more at a time…," she admitted.

"That's…un-sentient."

Kylo frowned deeply, catching Rey's surface thoughts. Her worst memories of Jakku cropped up with the topic. Oddly, it was slightly different from reading other peoples' minds, more…tangible, he thought. If he focused on her memories, rather than simply observing them as an outsider, he could almost feel his stomach contract with a level of hunger he'd never experienced.

"Rey…," he started, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on hers. He suddenly felt compelled to tell her everything about himself, but he was sure she wouldn't want to know his history. Then he recalled the question that had started the conversation. "You probably don't trust me at all, knowing the truth about me…"

"That depends…," she murmured. "Have you been acting this whole time?"

"I'm a terrible actor," he admitted.

"If I told you…hypothetically…that I'm actually working for the Resistance right now…would you turn me in?"

Her question threw him off. Kylo stared at her almost blankly as he processed it, automatically probing her mind a little to see if she was really being hypothetical or simply hedging. Her eyes narrowed, and he stopped.

"Well…are you working for my mother?" he asked, assuming she'd been told of his parentage. The confusion on Rey's face told him she hadn't been informed of that. "They didn't tell you?"

She shook her head in response and he sighed, deciding to go ahead and tell her. Of course it would take too long to tell her absolutely everything, so he took a moment to sort out the important details of his past. His parentage and the fact that he was the one to destroy his own uncle's attempt at reviving the Jedi Order were the most important details; everything else was a bland and rather sorry excuse for a sob story.

"General Organa is my mother," he said after a moment. "If you weren't told, Han Solo is her husband…and if they told you about why Luke Skywalker disappeared, I was the traitorous student," he tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but wasn't sure if he managed. Oddly enough, he almost felt guilty for what he'd done.

He watched as Rey took in the information. She didn't seem all that surprised, which made him wonder if she'd guessed it before. He'd been told when he was younger that he looked like his father, but he hadn't accepted the resemblance.

"Why'd you do it then?" she asked softly, sitting on the bed beside him. The question startled him.

Why did I do any of the things I've done? He wondered. Then he nearly reached out mentally to his master for guidance and realized just what his reasoning was. Suddenly everything he'd done for Snoke seemed less justified and more pointless.

And if he said anything along the lines of ‘Snoke made me do it' it would sound like he didn't think he was guilty. He'd sanctioned and supervised countless murders, even delivering the final blow on many. All of this, he had been complicit in, never questioning the logic that Snoke presented.

But if he really thought about it, he couldn't remember when Snoke had first entered his mind. Maybe he had always been there, twisting every word and action from his family members and those who dared attempt to make friends with him as a child.

"Ben…?" Rey pressed, touching his knee. Kylo shook his head a little, shaken from his thoughts.

"I…anything I say at this point would sound like an excuse…," he said softly, not looking at her. Five days without Snoke's presence in his mind and Kylo was already falling from the path he'd been placed on. Five days into this trial and he'd failed miserably. Obey or die, he thought, remembering the philosophy of both the old Empire and the First Order. Unless by some miracle he could grovel at Snoke's feet after this was over and convince his master that he was still useful and wouldn't backslide again, he would be dead the moment the weapon was truly ready to fire.

Snoke would have him watch the destruction of D'Qar, his old home, his family, the friends he might have once had, even Rey, and then Kylo himself would be killed. The thought of it sickened him. Because he'd had a small taste of freedom (if it could be called that) and he enjoyed it.

Rey watched as Ben seemed to be having some sort of internal conflict. His tone had told her that he felt some form of regret for his actions, and she knew somehow (likely because of the Force) that it was genuine. Honestly, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow in the conversation, she'd put both feet in her mouth and jumped into an abyss.

Well, she decided. It's too late to worry about that now…if he turns me in, it's my own damn fault.

"I'm not going to turn you in," he sighed. She hadn't even caught him probing at her mind again. Maybe she'd pushed that to him or something. She still had no real idea of how the Force worked or how to control it. "Rey, I—" she touched his lips gently, feeling that if they kept talking they wouldn't get any sleep and if she was going to properly sabotage the Starkiller, they both needed to be well rested.

"We can talk later," she told him. "It's starting to get late and we have work in the morning." He nodded dumbly, her fingers still over his mouth.

His eyes closed and he kissed the old callouses on her fingertips. She blinked and he reached up to grab her wrist gently. He carefully pulled her hand away from his face and leaned over to kiss her. This wasn't what she'd intended when she'd tried to close conversation, but she wasn't going to complain.

Rey returned the kiss, putting her free hand to his neck to pull him closer. The hand that was holding her wrist shifted to grasp her hand, their fingers tangling together. She shifted herself to sit in his lap. The position was a little awkward, so she broke away from him.

What…? She could have sworn she heard him speak, but his mouth hadn't moved. She shrugged it off and stripped to her underwear before climbing onto his lap with her legs on either side of his hips. Rey smiled and put both of her arms over his shoulders before kissing him passionately.

Ben got her hint and put one hand between them, pushing her bindings out of his way to grasp her breast. She smiled against his lips and pulled him a little closer, rocking her hips a bit against his forming erection. He groaned and began massaging her breasts in force with both hands.

Rey's hands moved to the hem of his shirt and she tugged the fabric up. They broke apart just long enough for her to get it over his head and out of her way. She then rested her head on his shoulder and kissed his throat softly as she trailed her hands down his torso to open his pants.

"Rey…," he murmured.

"Hm?" She moved to kiss his collar bone.

"Are you going to let me get comfortable or do you get to have all the fun?" he joked. She laughed a little and crawled off of him.

"I was thinking I'd help," she said simply, lowering herself to her knees in front of him. She pulled his pants down carefully, somehow managing to get them off of him without the need for him to move. She did the same with his boxers and kissed the tip of him.

"Rey, you don't have to—"

"I want to," she cut him off, taking him into her mouth.

Coming eventually! I'm editing and rewriting this fic and gonna eventually finish it...

#otp: reylo #fanfiction #my writing #fic: radar technicians #star wars #reylo fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #radar tech au

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