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azulas-lightning-bolt · 26 days

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this post is to answer @perfectlove990’s question on my post about the fire hazard and bending brothers sibling swap. they asked:

“This is really interesting so far and I want more, but a few questions. Where is Iroh in all this and what is he relationship with the brothers. Also what parts of the gaang story are being affected by this change?”

replying in the comments was going to give me an aneurysm so I decided to just make a separate post.

I started answering in the comments, I’ll just past it all back here:

oh boy. you’ve just triggered the master yapper. I have. many thoughts. on this au so I’m so glad you asked!! first, about iroh. since neither of the brothers play into zuko’s role very obviously, iroh is actually more distant—he believes they are entirely corrupted by naoki and doesn’t have the opportunity of a banishment to insert himself as a guiding figure in their development. thus, he stays more reserved, working with the white lotus between rare trips to the palace.

however, mako is more the azula of this verse, so iroh connects with bolin over tea and pai sho when mako has naoki’s attention. I characterize iroh as much more conniving (if well-intentioned) than he portrays himself, so it’s by design that this increases the separation between the brothers—bolin further dehumanizes his mental image of his brother. through their search for the avatar, iroh keep’s correspondence solely with bolin. however, through bolin’s accounts of events, he does notice mako is throwing off their chances of capturing the avatar, though he doesn’t know why until he also notices the assassins. yk, casual family drama.

he’s not at ba sing se, preferring to take advantage of being at the heart of the fn for white lotus intel. I’m gonna continue this in a new post cause I have too much to say lmao 😭

so going off that (still about iroh’s place in the story), he’s literally just an estranged uncle who picked a favorite he calls sometimes. we’ve all got that one uncle, right? so as I mentioned, iroh in my mind is a lot more calculated. he sees people as a means to an end, even if he genuinely cares about them as well, and his end goal is the war’s end. iroh has given up on mako here the same way he gave up on azula, choosing to focus his attention on the more ‘compassionate’ sibling to hopefully shape into the next firelord her could pull the strings of.

however, he doesn’t get as involved because, for one, they’re both much tighter under naoki’s control than zuko was ozai’s in canon, and naoki’s paranoia led to ozai’s death, so he knows he has to be subtle. for two, he knows none of his options are good candidates. he classifies mako as psycho and unwilling to end the war, so obviously he won’t put him on the throne. bolin is far too ek in appearance and an earthbender, which will upset the already sore-backed fn (who will also have to pay war reparations). iroh can’t put himself on the throne, because that will only twist this as a complicated grab for it rather than an offer for actual peace. not to mention he is a war criminal and the ek will not want to negotiate with him.

so basically iroh’s whole plot line is his struggle to figure out who he needs to manipulate into a crown, or if he needs to try and collapse the monarchy altogether. not sure how it would turn out on iroh’s end, but I think mako would become firelord. bolin probably ends up traveling the world or reuniting with san or something, but the fn was never really his home and after the war ends he’s ready to book it. maybe they’ll have a brotherly bonding arc where they fix their relationship but idk.

and then how the brothers’ interference affects the gaang’ plot line. this one is a little difficult because the writers crammed SO DAMN MUCH into three seasons, but I’ll just hit the basic points—

the avatar isn’t officially known until the solstice, when they go to the fn temple. the statues glowed, so there were rumors, but no one was actively hunting the avatar so nothing was guaranteed. it might also affect the way they left the swt—without the push of aang’s capture, what would’ve forced sokka and katara to part with their homes? that’d be interesting to explore if I ever wrote more for this but wtv.

I think this story would also be a good way to explore avatarverse spirituality and maybe give the boys a little religious trauma. (they’re actually my self-inserts guys.) so mako and bolin are in the temple when the gaang gets there (praying for agni’s blessing of strength, for better bending. praying for Agni’s blessing of the ‘right’ bending) and they still do all the crap that happens in the og.

for the first bit, their journey goes like it would w/o zuko interruption bcs bending brothers are preoccupied trying to survive naoki’s assassins. zhao kind of takes their place, becoming the main antagonist as they travel. he’s not very good at his job. anyway, the brothers get to the nwt, zhao still enacts the seige. however, the seige goes really differently. mako and bolin approach the nwt around the time zuko got there, slowed down by assassination attempts. except mako approaches as an ‘ambassador’ of the fn, sent to negotiate. at this point, he’s caught on that the fl wants them dead and actually intends to negotiate a neutrality by talking zhao down.

so there’s no iroh. however, mako takes azula’s place here—he is a beast of a firebender. he also doesn’t have the same reservations iroh had as a ‘disgraced’ prince—he is the crown prince of the fn, and technically has the right to kill zhao for insubordination. because of the nice new religious trauma, mako understands what iroh did; killing the moon spirit fucks everyone over. also I think time w the sages+prayer would put the brothers closer to understanding the lies of fn propaganda and seeing the point of ending the war. not quite breaking out of the mindset yet, but beyond seeing the water tribes as savages and such.

so basically mako negotiates a treaty with the nwt chief to mako zhao back down in exchange for hospitality of the two princes for a short period, given fn assassins are unable to reach them within the walls of the nwt (he wants a break so bad). zhao’s fleet still attacks, and he makes it to the oasis. however, mako outranks him and calls off the forces, leaving bolin to round up the rest of them and get them out while mako leaves for the oasis.

at the oasis, zhao is giving his whole speech. mako interrupts, telling zhao killing the moon spirits hurts the fn too. zhao accuses him of wanting the fn to fail, mako pulls rank, zhao doesn’t listen. he grabs tui from the pond, and mako lashes out with lightning. the moon is only red for a moment before the fish drops back into the pond and zhao drops dead to the ground.

everyone is like 😦

but mako’s just like ‘oops! guess we both got a bit too silly! now help us hide from assassins.’ because it’s funny. aang comes out of his meditation screaming that they need to protect the fish, but he’s greeted with the enemy nation’s prince, a dead zhao, and two safe fish. yue lives! the exchange between the fn princes and the chief is really awkward because mako is just lugging around zhao’s fried corpse. however, their stay is arranged. the gaang stays longer as well, plotting to sneak yue along with them when they leave. bolin is made as unaware of this as possible, mostly contained to the blessedly warm bedroom they’re given.

mako arranges a meeting with the gaang under nwt warrior supervision under the condition that they could kill him should he try anything. eventually, all parties distrustfully agree, tempted by the offer of fn information in exchange.

during the meeting, mako proposes a treaty; he will avoid capturing them as long as they continue to act like they are at genuine risk of capture. they’re wary, but agree. why is that the condition. nunya LOLLLLL.

nah that’s not what happens. he gives some vague excuse that not everyone wants mixed princes to stay breathing, and not all rulers care for heirs. the nwt warriors are mildly disturbed by the implications, but the gaang doesn’t really understand. sokka stays up late trying to figure it out and then realizes. he has nightmares of hakoda and the swt warriors trying to kill him for his mom being fn instead.

sokka is named group tactician when asked, and mako warns him that he and bolin are a formidable team, before giving him evasion tactics not commonly taught or used in the fn so thei consistent escape isn’t suspicious.

that was. more than I meant to say. anyways. they’re better off because mako is actively working against bolin’s genuine attempts to capture them and they have an anonymous donor of tactics and supplies (mako).

I’m debating whether or not the blue spirit exists here. I think I want an alternate blue spirit to happen—veiti, from the spirit 100yr war mako au. I kinda want to try drawing him a little mask. and since he’s already set on the path of helping the avatar (though, granted, to save his own skin) veiti would be more proactive in helping the gaang.

uhhh I think naoki would be less of the Big Opp than ozai was, because both bolin and mako as well as iroh are in a position to incapacitate her. the evil is the war council (which I do think should’ve mattered more in atla canon) and the psychological ramifications of naoki’s treatment of bolin and mako being the only thing holding them back from taking her out of power.

I think such a huge part of naoki’s power is based on her intellect and manipulation, so just removing her bending wouldn’t be enough to end her reign. not to mention she lived in an ek town for years—she probably learned how to fight like a nonbender (kyoshi warrior era naoki??) so aang’s peaceful ending wouldn’t have worked; I think naoki would need to be killed.

however, having aang kill her would completely ruin his character, which is a whole other post, because his adherence to air nomad culture is such a huge part of him, and outright killing someone (with absolute knowledge that there is no chance of survival) of his own volition is just.. not aang.

so guess who’s gonna do it.

bolin.

HAHAHA I bet you weren’t expecting that one‼️‼️ it’s bolin who is killing her because I think he deserves that poetic symbolism, and because in this scenario the eclipse succeeds. his bending was always a less-than under naoki. he was always supposed to be a firebender. but now, when firebenders are powerless and vulnerable, she’s helpless to resist the crushing weight of the world he has always, effortlessly, commanded.

that kind of eliminates a LOT, but aang still hasn’t mastered firebending and the wl (specifically iroh) has been thrown for a total loop, the throne is empty, and the world is in uproarious confusion. did they win? should someone try and take over the fn while they’re vulnerable? are concessions, agreements being made with the fn accepting their loss? who will rise to the throne? will the fn accept one of their half-ek princes as fl?

so instead of being b3: fire, it’s b3: political intrigue and I thought the world was done burning what the fuck is happening. iroh is pulling his receding hairline farther back trying to figure out what to do, mako (still 15) ascends to the throne as crown prince and more fn-looking of the brothers. he’s immediately swamped with peace treaties and concession demands. and, naturally, this involves the gaang—the avatar is the bridge, and he will be the bridge alongside his national ambassadors (the rest of the gaang)

and because aang needs a firebending teacher, is on relatively good terms with mako (who is a very skilled firebender), and wants to show the world the fn and their new fl aren’t actually that evil, mako becomes a firebending master!! except this is bad because he is stressing the fuck out.

things actually do go easier for mako than zuko because he has ~connections~. he’s half ek (and understands/adopts some of the culture) and built a bridge with the nwt during zhao’s seige.

other than all that and how b3 would change I don’t really have much more specifics on how mako+bolin instead of zuko+azula would affect the gaang but. I just think this little au is neat, glad you were curious about it :)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #mako lok #bolin lok #bolin and mako #bending brothers #fire hazard siblings and bending brothers swap au #the gaang #iroh #lok #tlok #slug’s stuff

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sakizm · 2 months

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okay so i've watched the live action avatar series twice now and here's my non-spoilery review:

it's far from perfect, but it's not terrible - i went in cautiously optimistic with low expectations... i found myself surprised in both good and bad ways. first few episodes i struggled a bit with the pacing cause it seemed all over the place and not cohesive. after that, it flowed better with the episodes leading up to the northern water tribe.

obviously i didn't like how so much had to be cut out... but trying to fit 20 episodes worth into 8 episodes? that's A LOT of material to cover! i have questions on some scenes i saw because some of it didn't make sense.

i honestly believe that if they were given more number of episodes instead of short 8 ones which is the norm these days - there would've been more scenes to expand on and flow better with the story we know in the original series.

the scenes that did get adapted from the original series? i absolutely loved the little expanded moments in the live action (see episode 6: masks for example).

after watching the live action series, did i love it? eh sort of. but did i enjoy it? absolutely yes. and i genuinely hope there's a season 2 and 3 because i want to see where this goes.

review with spoilers under the cut:

getting the complaints outta the way first here -

BUMI. idk guys but i felt like he wasn't bumi and got replaced by an bitter old man who wanted to fight a literal kid because he had some 100 yr old resentments. (also wasn't it bumi who told aang that the world had changed in 100 yrs and that he needs to defeat the fire lord, but not without his friends???) that's why i legit cannot get over what they've done to bumi in the live action.

i really did not like how the past avatars kept telling a 12 yr old kid to not rely on friends. and what happened to roku being the main guide since he's literally the previous avatar before aang?

i have mixed feelings on the opening scene, idk if showing the attack was necessary. it kinda defeated the impactful moment of aang's return to the southern air temple had with showing how abandoned it was and discovering gyatso's bones.

i really really really hate to say this but... those sukka moments? idk if it was just me but i cringed which made me sad cause I LOVE AND ADORE SUKKA in the original series.

where was haru and jeong jeong? i felt their original episodes were impactful to the story.

i was not expecting the nomads to be there or even the secret tunnel cause that's not introduced until season 2. i enjoyed the nomads but i didn't like the direction they took with the badgermoles.

they should've brought back dee bradley baker. (if don't understand, pls listen to momo)

what is the point of hei-bai if not going to show how aang helps the spirit? instead it sidetracked with koh the face-stealer and the fog of lost souls (wasn't that in korra???) i'm just confused with how all that went.

aang turning down katara's offer of teaching him what she knows of waterbending? i was baffled and confused. also we never see aang waterbend.

gran gran's goodbye and blessing before sokka & katara leave home, where was it? in original series she literally tells them "aang is the avatar. your destinies are intertwined with his"

speaking of gran gran, idk if i liked how they had her tell the tribe that aang is the avatar instead of having him reveal it during the fight with zuko.

NO MARBLE TRICK what a travesty you guys.

now onto the stuff i actually enjoyed -

more aang & gyatso moments! i looooooved seeing more of them

i actually wasn't mad about seeing the mechanist & teo in omashu (and i absolutely loved the actors cast as them)

MY CABBAGES!!!

suki! the kyoshi warriors!

that small mention of the great divide, the pirates, and the village with volcano by the patrons in senlin village

the fact that they had zuko keep a diary lmao

admiral "the moon slayer" zhao

the scarf scene from zuko and katara (i'm dead serious i went into watching the live action with zero shipping preferences but nice to know that i will absolutely lose my shit over the crumbs even 19 yrs later)

speaking of them, their north pole fight!!! (bummed no iconic sun & moon line)

episode 8 masks is my fave you guys - it was a nice blend of "the storm" and "blue spirit" episodes into one and i love how they expanded on zuko & aang talking while waiting out the soldiers.

and don't even get me started on the crew being the 41st *sobs*

not mad about princess yue being able to bend. i actually enjoyed that she could and was more attuned to spiritual matters.

pakku & katara fight!

katara telling pakku to stop being "stuck in old times" and rallying the women waterbenders to help fight.

liked how the waterbending scroll was introduced via gran gran rather than stealing from the pirates.

and lastly, all the zuko & uncle iroh moments!!! they really took it to another level. that scene after lu ten's death? after zuko's banishment "i have everything i need right here on this ship"? their hug and talk at the north pole? legit teared up.

#live action atla #like love or hate it. one thing i'm glad about is that watching the live action has revived my love for atla #and i hope to see another atla renaissance #don't mind sakizm

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culmaer · 2 months

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I watched the first two episodes of the live action Avatar last night

note. I haven't rewatched the original since Legend of Korra ended (9~10 years ago !) so I definitely didn't expect a faithful 1:1 recreation and I won't be criticising them for not doing that. these are just some initial disorganised thoughts

1) telling the story chronologically, rather than starting in the present day and then using flashbacks noticeably changes the tone. probably intentionally. but it also makes the reveal when they reach the Southern Air Temple less impactful. it felt a bit rushed to me, but given the reduced runtime of the series I'm not sure what choice they had

2) in fact the show as a whole feels a bit less polished than some other Netflix productions. it kinda works, since this is an adaptation of a cartoon, but it does feel like the show is trying to be realistic

3) seeing the genocide of Palestinians on my newsfeed all day, and the putting on a show in the evening, which opens with the eradication of an entire culture and ethnic group was not fun. it feels insensitive to say it out loud, I really don't mean to make light of the Palestinian struggle, but that is where my mind went watching the episode.

I can't decide if this is a good thing or not. was releasing the show now insensitive, or does it prime its western audience to be more empathetic of the real world genocide. idk

4) Gran gran's note written in Canadian/Inuktitut syllabics was a nice touch. since all the characters speak the same language, and the Fire Nation writes in Hànzì (as in the original) this suggests either digraphia, which is fun world-building, or everyone is bilingual and Katara was simply translating to "common" as she read. later scenes make it clear she can read Hànzì too

#no tags

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lets-talk-spirituality · 1 year

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Hello I just wanted to ask some questions about my soulmate. Do I have one? What do they look? What are they like? When will I meet them? How will I meet them? Is it someone I know or is it a whole new person? Are they old, young, or my age? I would like to know about everything. :)

Immediately what comes to my head is why do you want to know everything? What if the universe wants to surprise you? Is you wanting to know everything about control or because you have expectations of who you think they are or what they’re like? This isn’t really how readings work. The other person I answered questions like this for was asking if someone they already thought was their soulmate is. Spirit doesn’t do specifics or timelines because our choices constantly change our path. But also you aren’t meant to know everything, you are meant to trust the universe. In the future questions more about like does my soulmate have a message for me are more effective questions. All that said. I will channel and see what spirit wants you to know, not what you may want to know.

I’m seeing an office, a black office chair. I think they may be a hard worker or struggle with workaholism. I see black and navy, dark, not a light. I wonder if they work long into the night or in a dark room. Maybe they prefer the dark for working conditions. Sometimes bright lights can cause headaches. I see a modern desk, very clean lines, dark cherry wood, so I’m thinking maybe they are more minimalistic and modern, less sentimental, with a lot of open space in their house. Seeing lots of marble, light colored walls and floors, open floor plan, very modern stylistically. I’m seeing glasses and they definitely get headaches, I’m seeing someone rubbing their temples.

What do you want to say soulmate?

(Immediately they feel heavy). Everything is work. I feel like I’m working hard all the time and getting nowhere. But I keep having faith I’ll move forward. Maybe I’m just stuck or stagnant. I do like my routine. I’m very much a creature of habit. I know I need to shake it up. I think you need to shake it up too. We’re similar you know. I think we both need to get outside more, outside our comfort zones, outside into nature, move from the dark and quiet to the bright and vibrant. I love you, for whatever that’s worth, but I haven’t been feeling the most optimistic in love lately. I just don’t know if I have space in my life for this type of relationship right now. It’s asking for so much faith that I don’t have. Maybe you can believe enough for us both. I hope you can. I feel bogged down by the drudgery of the day to day, but sometimes I have this glimmer of what life could be, with the you I haven’t met, and it gets me through. I do love you, despite my general pessimism and inability to believe all this spiritual stuff. Maybe meeting you one day will change it all. I’m not sure. I just focus on what I know. Work. I love you. And I miss you. Maybe we’ll connect soon, even just in spirit. Talking to you does bring some hope. Makes me want to talk more but there’s nothing more to say. Happy holidays, my love! May your cheer make it to me here. With all my love, me. (M name possibly, mike, Michael, mark, Matthew, Matt idk why but that came up as a possible sign off).

Druid Craft Tarot

Seven of Wands Reversed

The guidebook says: you may be struggling with other peoples objections to your actions, feeling overwhelmed, anxious or embarrassed, extreme difficulty with coming to a decision— uncertainty may impede success.

The card shows a man looking out over a ledge but cannot see two other warriors coming. The wands connects with fire, action and in reverse can mean a lack of action, passion, motivation or inspiration. Seven is a number that represent spirituality and in reverse it may mean a lack of faith or struggle to believe in more, struggle with hope.

All of this sort of mirrors the energy your soul mate is in and means you may be mirroring each other right now with a lack of faith in more for your life, especially with regards to passion. You may be struggling to take action because of this deep lack of hope for better. Seven is all the number of days in a week. Remember this is a cycle. What goes up must come down. This too shall pass and you will find hope and deeper meaning again.

Goddess Guidance

Damara— guiding children “you are good at helping, counseling and healing children. Use your skills to help children now”

When I see this card it makes me think about inner child healing and finding a way back to the hope and joy you were able to feel as a child. The wonder you felt about the little things. This is asking you to help, counsel and heal your own inner child and perhaps spending actual time with children, such as younger siblings or cousins, can remind you how.

Maat— fairness “the situation will be handled in a a fair and just manner”

Major libra vibes, very logical similar to the approach of your soulmate. Whatever you are worried about, whatever seems not resolved or like it didn’t play out fairly or correctly, trust that divine has your back and has it covered.

I hope this resonates or helps you on your journey!

#channeled message #channeled reading #ask box #soul mates

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Bail Organa #Rexwalker #Jangobi #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #Boba Fett #star wars #the clone wars #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #mpreg tw #phoenix posts

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Text

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #crack fic #i think lol

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Note

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #anon ask #anon #resident evil village fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ethan winters #manthing (derogatory)#had way too much fun with this #it was supposed to be like 500 words tops #it ended up being over 3 times that

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lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

thinking about jealous bill a lot these days, lei, and how he’d fuck her so good after. one of those fucks where he’s just making her HIS, fucking her from behind and just making her forget any words. especially if she was already small and some guy hit on her at a bar that she already didn’t want to be at and bill just assures her the whole time home. but once they’re home? he knows what he’s gotta do and that’s making her mind blank.

Oooooooof I've been sitting on this for too long, but it has had me tingling for days. I've been itching to get my thoughts out on it, but idk sometimes this routine that I think I have nailed down with my little furry dude just goes to shit all of a sudden and there's really no reason to it. Last week I was rocking it, his nap times were on point, I was eating dinner by 7, we had walks, play time, then he conked out. This week I'm like DURRRR HOW DO I DOG PARENT? and I'm eating dinner at 10 and I feel like even Bongo is looking at me like he really needs me to get my shit together.

ANYWAY.

Let's get into this.

What I love about this here is the small but incredibly important detail that you mentioned that like...maybe tiger is already a little small. Maybe she's somewhere she doesn't want to be and Bill knows this, maybe she's not feeling too great about it and is getting worse, maybe she wants out or needs a reprieve and Bill knows it. And that right there flares up his protector side, the primal side of him that just wants to pick her up and carry her out, get her somewhere dark where she can sit on his lap and he can shove his thumb in her mouth and hold her there for as long as she needs. Tiger being a little overwhelmed, a little uncomfortable in a place she doesn't want to be in, tiger getting a little small in a place that's not safe for her to be small in and she knows it so she's spiralling a little...oof, Bill morphs into the alpha male that he keeps buried deep, and his own instincts are on fire to protect her, comfort her, provide for her. Throw in a little jealousy on Bill's side because tiger being small is....like, that's his you know? Only he gets to see that. And her mood is completely imperceptible to everybody else, but she may as well have a sign on her forehead that says "PUT ME ON MY KNEES" to Bill. It's so obvious to him, and his feathers are all ruffled because that's his. That's his look.

So alright, maybe tiger is just having a fucking shit week. She's due to be riding the crimson wave in a few days so she's bloated and the tatas are sensitive , her clothes aren't fitting, she's been kind of nauseous all day with a dull ache in the base of her skull. Maybe it's 38754596660 fucking degrees in a heat wave and like, tiger doesn't do heat. Her commute to work is not air-conditioned, so by the time she gets home she's overheated and sweaty and even more puffy and just full of fucking bad feelings. She's physically uncomfortable for a million different reasons, she's tired, SHE'S SO DAMN HOT--it's just all bad.

But it's a friend's birthday and at the moment, tiger kind of thinks that friend is a fucking asshole for organizing something in the middle of the week--let alone the worst week of life--but she's going. They're going. They have to.

But Bill's not convinced.

"You know kid," he says gently as he leans against the doorframe, sipping a beer as tiger tries on the millionth dress. The rejects are in a heap on the bed, and she struggles with the zipper as she shoots him an annoyed look.

"We can sit this one out if you don't feel like going," he says. He doesn't move to help her with the zipper--not when she's in a mood like this. Instead, he just swigs his beer.

"No we can't Bill," she snaps, and with a frustrated huff the dress goes up and over her head and is tossed into the pile of rejects. "She'll be pissed if we miss this."

"Then she's pissed," he shrugs, "We can make it up to her."

Tiger yanks another dress out of the closet, pulls it on. She pokes at it, turns a few ways in the mirror.

"That one's cute," he says.

But then she unties the belt, flings it off so the dress billows loosely around her frame.

"Fuck it," she says, grabbing his beer on her way out of the room, "I'm fucking wearing this fucking potato sack to fucking dinner."

Bill watches as she downs the beer in two gulps.

"Ugh," she mutters lowly, "Fucking lite beer bullshit."

At this point, he really just has all the sympathy in the world for her. Her friends are important to her, and tiger always feels a sense of obligation to never let them down. He knows this is the last place she feels like going tonight, but she's forcing herself to.

And like the thing with tiger's bad moods is sometimes they make her full of piss and vinegar and ready to fight everyone, and sometimes they just make her small. Bill never knows which way it's going to go, but given the fact that she's a little hormonal and he knows she's close to shark week, he can take a guess at which way the dice will roll tonight.

And it basically starts in the car on the way there. She's fidgety, even with the A/C cranked on high. She's pulling at the hem of her dress, huffing, she's rubbing at her temples. At one point she takes the seatbelt, pulling it away from her body and Bill shoots her a quizzical look.

"If my tits could stop feeling like they're about to fucking burst, that'd be great," she mutters.

"I'll give you a massage later tonight," he kisses her knuckles.

"Fuck all of this."

"I know, kid."

And it just gets worse. When tiger is in this kind of mood, really the thing that makes it worse is to just....surround her with people. Surround her with people that she has to fake joy and happiness with. She doesn't have the patience or the fucking energy for it, and despite her best efforts, Bill can see the scowl permanently etched in her forced happy face. And he can see the shift start to happen--the way she fidgets a lot more, and can't get comfortable. The way her shoulders hunch over. The way she's flinching or jumping at loud noises, squinting or wrinkling her features at the bright lights. Her eyes are getting a bit of a spaced out look, she's not really engaging in conversations--everything is just too much. The environment is starting to get way too stimulating, way too overwhelming, and she's getting small on him. He gives her knee a hard squeeze, hard enough to ground her and catch her attention and she jolts.

"You good?" he murmurs lowly. And he knows she's not. SHE knows that he knows she's not. But she forces a fake smile, so wide that it's almost sarcastic.

"Peachy."

A few minutes pass, her knee bouncing, her eyes flitting everywhere, and she stands.

"I need some air," she says, "It's too fucking hot in here."

Bill stands immediately, but she puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down.

"I'm fine," she says, "Really. Just give me a minute."

He doesn't like it, not one bit, but he lets her go. Alone.

A few minutes pass, and sure enough she comes back in. She motions her hand to the bar, but Bill holds up his full pint to let her know he doesn't need another round just yet. She nods, heading there anyway to get a refill for herself.

Bill has eyes on her. Bill always has eyes on her. And tiger doesn't see it, but Bill does--he sees the guy standing next to her give her a little once-over, sees a smirk tilt up the guy's lips, and Bill knows what's about to happen. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he doesn't need to. He sees the guy speak. He sees tiger tense up a little, a tight smile in politeness, and she turns her head to try and make eye contact with the bartender a little quicker.

The guy doesn't get the hint, and keeps talking. Bill stands up. His eyes are on her the whole time, and now she's ignoring the guy. Turning her body slightly away, leaning forward a bit in hopes of getting her order in with the bartender faster. Her shoulders are practically up by her ears, and the guy with the sleazy smirk is still talking. Bill is ready to fucking punch the guy into next week just for the reaction that he's eliciting from his girl--making her scared, making her uncomfortable, even fucking daring to talk to her when she's like this. Bill eats up the distance with quick strides.

He makes it in the nick of time, right as this guy had raised a hand and was poised to place it on tiger's back in a rather unwanted caress. Bill grabs his wrist, steps between him and tiger, and gets real into his space.

"Just try and touch her motherfucker," he growls, "I dare you."

And listen, if nothing else--Bill is tall and that's intimidating as fuck when it gets right up in your space real quickly. But Bill also came out of nowhere, he looks a little crazy, and this guy suddenly ain't so down to rumble.

"Bro, I didn't know--"

But Bill just stands even taller and tiger actually shrinks behind him, her hand gently on his back, and it's the only thing that's keeping him remotely calm. This isn't about his anger. This is about protecting her, especially when she's like this for him, and nothing else matters.

The guy just holds his hands up, and backs away into the crowd. When he's out of sight, Bill turns to her.

"We're leaving kid," he says, and god it's so gentle, "Go wait for me by the car okay?"

"No," she mumbles immediately, fisting at his shirt a little bit, "No, can I stay here with you?"

And he realizes that she's a little scared and just a whole lot overwhelmed, and Jesus he could fucking melt into a puddle for her right that second.

"Of course you can," he tugs on a lock of her hair gently, "Of course you can."

Bill gets the bartender's attention in no time--a giraffe at your bar will do that--and he pays for everyone's tab. They make a hasty exit but he takes the blame--it's par for the course when you're friends with Bill, he's often tiger's ride and he's always getting all kinds of urgent calls--and then they leave.

And listen, the second that they're in the car? Tiger can finally start to let her walls come down, which is just fucking igniting Bill's jealous side and his protector side.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs to her. She looks so fussy, so small for him.

"I want to go home," she whines.

"I know sweet girl, I'm taking you home."

"He was awful Bill," she says, "Ugh, he was so sleazy and so slimy and--and he tried--"

"He tried tiger," he says softly, "He can try all he wants. He'll never have what's mine."

"No he won't," she sniffles. Bill tucks her hair behind her ears, taps two fingers against her lips and she sucks at them.

"Are you mine?" he asks softly, "Is this mine?"

She nods, but he tuts her.

"Yes," she mumbles, "Yours."

"Good," he murmurs. He pulls his fingers from her mouth and she whines, but he drags his hand down and cups her mound softly. She moans and grabs onto his wrist.

"What about this?" he asks, "Is this mine too?"

"Yes," she chokes out, "Yes. God Bill get me home."

"I will sweet girl, I will."

And listen, when they get home? oof. There's no stopping Bill. He can't switch it off, he doesn't want to tame it, and tiger doesn't want him to either. She's his. He's possessive, he's rough, he's jealous--and all it does is make her smaller for him, make her even more soft and subby, which just makes him even more alpha. It's rough because he needs it, SHE needs it, needs the pain of it to feel grounded, needs the sting of a spanking so that she can feel his strength, so she can feel like she's his, so she can feel owned and possessed and protected. And Bill needs to mark her to feel like she's his, because goddamnit it came so close tonight to everyone seeing her only the way he gets to. Too many people almost saw what is only his to see.

For as much as he wants to wreck her, maybe tiger wants to be on her knees for him. Maybe she needs to be on her knees for him. And for however much he might need something else, nights like these are always about her, and what she needs comes first.

#sub tiger #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #oof #it's been a hot minute since we got subby up in hurr #and it does a bitch some GOOOOOOOOOD

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seacottons · 3 years

Text

reaper ; — k.hj x reader

pairing: hongjoong x reader, platonic wooyoung x reader

wc: 5k

notes: i guess this is horror? pft. idk. mild violence. set in the late 80s? early 90s? technology isn't prevalent here so- yeah. probably needs to be proofread but i'm too sleepy as of now. maybe tomorrow. also, happy hongjoong day 🤍

synopsis: after an accident leaves three of your friends dead and one in a coma, you and wooyoung struggle with living expenses and piling medical bills. in the midst of it all, you’re stalked by strangers who resemble your deceased friends.

"Bad day at the tavern, Woo?" You asked, arms wrapping around the black-haired man who stood over the stovetop. A gentle fire simmered the stew he was cooking, a thin sheen of oil and spices pooling on the surface. He nodded with a grim frown and tight jaw, shoulders tense as he stirred a ladle into the pot.

"Got in a fight with some asshole who thought he didn't have to pay for shit," he grumbled back. You frowned at the sight of a bruise on his jaw, and he caught your gaze before scoffing incredulously.

"Don't look at me like that. This is nothing," he quipped hastily, voice thin with resignation.

"I think I have some leftover ointment for that," you sighed, turning away to fetch the item. After dinner, the two of you sat in silence as you tended to his bruises and cuts, your brows furrowing into a glare as you wrapped his finger with scraps of linen you managed to find," You should be more careful with people like that."

"We need the money," he retorted gently, "Mr. Lee would've taken it out of my paycheck if I had let the guy go without paying."

"At the expense of you getting hurt?" He ignored the glare you sent his way.

"We need every silver coin and more right now, y/n," he exhaled softly, leaning back against the old headboard of your bed, "Yeosang's medical bills aren't getting cheaper, and we promised the landlord we'll pay her this month." He groaned, reaching up to massage his temple with a tight frown, "And I can't keep making you work two shifts every day. I see the toll it's having on you."

"I told you I'm fine," you gave him a hard stare, defensively crossing your arms above your chest, "We both work overtime, so it won't be fair of me to just throw all the responsibility on you."

He gave you a tired smile, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed back a reply. Bringing you into his arms, he placed a gentle kiss onto your temple, before cradling your head against his chest while laying down, "I'll always be grateful to still have you with me."

Wooyoung sleeping in your bed alongside you became a silent agreement of some sort months ago when he couldn't bear to sleep alone in the other room he and Yeosang shared. Since then, the two of you found comfort in each other's arms, so much so that it became difficult to sleep without the warmth of his arms wrapped securely around your frame every night.

You sat in a comfortable silence, eyes closed as you relaxed back in your seat while holding Yeosang's delicate hand. The occasional beep of the IV machine and other monitors filled the air of the small room. You peek one eye open to look at Wooyoung, his back turned to you as he gazes out of the window. Neither of you speak for a while.

"You really think the doctor's words are guaranteed? That he'll wake up soon?"

You watched from your spot as Wooyoung leaned over the blonde-haired male, his hands brushing the hair away from his closed eyes. He appeared to be in a very deep and peaceful slumber.

"Yeah. I'm sure–.. I know he will. Things will get better for all of us," he drawled out tiredly, a soft smile finding itself onto his visage as he turned to gaze at your hand grasping Yeosang's limp one, eyes puffy from his crying session last night, "I know it."

An hour later, a nurse peeks her head in to politely state that you two have exceeded your visiting time. The two of you bid your friend farewell and left the hospital.

"I'm actually going to run by the cemetery real quick before my shift starts," you explained while walking down the road with the other by your side, half frozen autumn leaves crunching beneath your boots.

Wooyoung pulled you into a tight hug, hand reaching up to tussle your locks, "Alright, please be careful. I'll see you later, alright?," he readjusted the scarf around your neck with his gloved hands, "We'll have fried fish tonight, your favorite. Don't overwork yourself at work again!"

Tears nearly welled in your eyes, knowing fully well behind his cheerful demeanor hid a scared and tired being. The unspeakable pain behind his eyes killed you on the inside. He overworked himself both physically and mentally, and you can only wish you can rid some of the burden off of his shoulders.

You were just as hurt by the circumstances that the both of you were in, but watching his mental health erode with each day was A lump formed in your throat, and instead of replying, you merely flashed him a smile, not trusting your voice.

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek only to laugh as he flinched away from your freezing lips, your laughter escaping as puffs of white in the frigid air. You bid him farewell and waved back as the two of you separated.

The low mist enshrouding the cemetery did very little to bring warmth in the early hours of the morning. Your hands absentmindedly brushed along the dew covered grass as your eyes fixated onto the inscription on one of the three tombstones.

Where there are flowers, there are butterflies.

"It's your birthday next month, Joong," you muse to the grave in front of you, "I'll make sure to spend the day here with you and the others when the time comes."

You adjusted your position on the grass, the gentle beams of sunlight sparkling in the beads of dew around you. Sitting cross legged, you reminisced the times you spent with the male and the other two friends that shared his fate.

"Wait— how come you get to be the flower? You should be the butterfly instead," you whined whilst poking his cheek.

With a playful quirk of his brow, he reached up to lightly flick your forehead before pulling you closer for a gentle kiss, "You're the butterfly, because you always bug me, baby."

You smiled to yourself at the memory, reaching down to admire the various flowers that have finally bloomed on Hongjoong's grave. Similar blossoms and flowering vines were planted and grown onto the other two graves to the right.

"I miss you so much."

You startled at the sight of a small butterfly fluttering over your head, only to smile once it landed on the purple blossom. You stilled your frame in fear of scaring it off, and watched as it flapped its blue wings subtly.

A small lizard peeked through the gaps of leaves, sharply and swiftly clamping its mouth onto the butterfly. It struggled to keep the bug in its mouth, its head shaking rapidly as the insect wriggled in its hold. Moments later, the bug stilled and the lizard scampered off with its prey.

You stood up, shoulders slumping as you gave the three graves a smile and a wave, "See you guys tomorrow. I love you."

You tightened the sweater around your frame as you made yourself out the gates of the cemetery, sighing in annoyance at the lingering and dense fog. It was difficult to even make out the next tree as you made your way back to town. You faintly hear the sound of a crow's caw in the distance and peer down onto the ground as you feel a tremor beneath your feet. Your head snapped up in time to have a large vehicle's headlights reflect in your wide eyes.

You somehow couldn't quite grasp what day it was, or even what happened at work earlier. Your head spun as if you had just awoken from a drunken stupor.

The sun had set and the moonlight washed the town with a silvery blue hue. Flames flickered within the numerous lampposts and pebbles crunched beneath your feet as you walked through the familiar cobblestone path back home. The streets were deserted. Many buildings were left with shattered windows, small plants and moss growing in the most delicate fissures on their walls. Plastered advertisements and papers on the walls and lampposts looked withered and aged, drooping forward and swaying with the gentle breeze. It was quite an odd sight to see. The once boisterous town strangely felt like a ghost town.

You shrugged off the ominous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach as you trudged along back home.

Along the way, you crossed the hospital where Yeosang was kept. You peeked back to glance at the building, your eyes immediately catching sight of a figure who stood behind a third story window. Furrowing your brows, you turned around to continue walking, the sight of the stranger leaving a bitter feeling in your heart.

The male had the same patch of silver hair as—

Suddenly, your feet came to a halt and you turned back frantically, but the figure was gone. In its place, the blue curtain of Yeosang's room swayed gently with the wind.

Shaking your head, you continued your path whilst rubbing your tired eyes.

"I probably just had a long day," you explained to nobody.

In the distance, there crouched a dark figure, his hands caressing the top of a stray cat's head. You met eyes with the stranger moments later, and you paused in your tracks, your heart dropping down to the floor and leaping into your throat almost simultaneously.

"San?" the figure's lips stretched into a wide grin at your acknowledgement, before he stood up straight to face you. Your legs shook and threatened to give under the sudden weight of your body, "San? Is that really you?"

"Long time no see, y/n."

He silently nodded, arm extending to beckon you forward with a small smile. You took a small step forward, brows furrowing in confusion, "But this can't be you. You're dead."

"Your eyesight is still horrible, I see," he drawled out with a roll of his eyes. You stood inches away from him, eyes widening in disbelief. He sounded like and resembled your late friend with a terrifying accuracy. With a trembling hand you reached forward to cup his cheek, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"You're..," you trailed off, eyes briefly glancing to your right at the reflection of the store glass window. Your reflection grasped at nothing but thin air, and you quickly retracted your hand from his face, eyes wide, "You're not real, are you?"

In an instant, the bright smile vanished and his gaze hardened into a dark expression. He silently bore holes into your head as a gentle breeze swayed his ebony and silver locks over his eyes. You took two hesitant steps back, and a blur of black flew towards you at an inhumane pace, your back roughly slamming onto the cobblestones underneath you.

Your brain scrambled to process what had just happened, eyes widening as San gripped your two wrists above your head with one hand, the other reaching down to wrap his lithe fingers around the column of your neck to squeeze hard. You released a pained cry, face contorting into a harsh wince. The heel of his palm dug painfully in the middle of your clavicles.

With eyes wide as saucers, you frantically kicked at your heels, hitting his frame repeatedly in an attempt to escape his clutches. Your attempt was futile as he released a growl, eyes practically slits as he seethed down at you, his grip tightening at an unbelievable level.

You wheezed, mouth falling open as you choked out his name, before furiously and blindingly sending a stomp onto his crotch repeatedly, your other leg jutting high to kick at his shoulder. It loosened his grip just enough for you to wriggle away, knees buckling as you attempted to stand up, heels kicking at the floor as you scrambled up, desperately trying to create as much distance as possible.

His eyes spoke of unfathomable fury as he regained his composure, taking two big strides to reach you.

Hastily rising to your feet, you dove in an alleyway and into the dark, mind not even processing your whereabouts as you quickly attempted to flee.

Your mind was in shambles as you ducked past clothes lines and the multiple abandoned carts near one of the taverns by the tea shop you worked at.

Turning around another corner, you collided with a strong chest, and you stumbled back at the sight of San's dark eyes peering down at you with a miffed expression. You gasped, face draining of color and chest heaving as you stumbled back and away from him. His chest rose with heavy breathing, brows knitted together furiously as he scurried after you.

"Y/n, y/n," he tsked in amusement, voice chiming like he was singing a song, "Come back, I just want to talk!"

Minutes later, the sound of his heavy footsteps ceased, but you did not have the time or courage to look back to see if he was still following you. You scrambled through dark alleyways, turning around every other corner, heart beating frantically in your ears and weak legs threatening to give way under your weight.

Tears prickled your eyes, and a sob threatened to escape your throat as you practically threw yourself against the frame of your door, fingers frantically reaching down to pull out the key from your pouch. From the corner of your eye, you spotted San madly dashing out from an alleyway to reach you, his voice growling out your name.

"Why are you running away?" He mocked, brows quirking up, "I thought we were good friends?"

Your trembling hands scrambled to unlock your door, hastily clambering in and throwing your entire weight to close it shut. A heavy weight from the other side thudded against the wooden frame, and your hands shook whilst reaching up to slide the chain into place. A loud gasp left your lips as the door jerked open slightly, the thin chain straining under the weight that threatened to break it.

"I'm hurt, y/n," a laugh escaped the man from the other side as he lodged his foot in between to keep the door ajar, voice rising as he attempted to shove himself in once more, "Don't you miss me?"

"Leave me alone!"

A hand shot from the gap of the door to clamp around the chain, rattling it viciously, as his other arm bent at an awkward angle to coil his fingers around the side of your neck, "Come out, y/n. I just want to talk," he chimed.

A sudden surge of strength overtook your frame and you threw your weight forward, successfully ramming the door shut against his arms. You expected to hear a cry of pain, but a chime of laughter sent a chill down your spine. With furrowed brows, you repeated the action, slamming the door continuously onto his hands and fingers, the sounds of bones and tendons snapping making you cry out in anguish.

Your hands trembled as you quickly locked the door with the key, stumbling back onto the floor as the knob shook threateningly. The door and chain rattled under the heavy kicks the male delivered from the other side, The impact of his frame against the other side shaking the door slightly. You fell onto your bottom, wobbly knees finally giving in, hands clutching your gaping mouth, and tears silently streaming down your face. You can practically feel the smile in his words, "It's okay. You'll come out eventually."

The dark shadow of his figure disappeared moments later.

When you woke, you weren't exactly sure when or how you fell asleep. You couldn't quite grasp the memories of the night prior. Sitting up, you emit a disoriented groan before realizing you weren't in your bedroom, but rather in the waiting room in the hospital Yeosang resided in. Peering around in confusion, you took account of the night sky, brows furrowing as you scrambled to find the nearest clock. It was well past midnight and visitors weren't even allowed at this ungodly hour.

The room was vacant, and you couldn't make out any figures of the receptionists through the pebbled sliding-windows. Your hand grasped the doorknob of the entrance door, only for you to sigh in frustration after finding it locked. You turn to the other side of the room only to find the door to the main halls of the ICU left ajar ever so slightly.

You called for any doctor or nurse, but you were met with silence. After much contemplating, you decided to make your way through the long corridors of the hospital, your steps reverberating throughout the empty halls. Where are the attendants, and why is a place like the ICU empty?

If you were stuck in here, you might as well stay in your friend's room. The lights from the mounted sconces petered out against the wall and casted the hallway with a warm glow.

After much turning and walking, you reached the end of the hall, hand reaching for the doorknob when the hallway lights wavered for a second. You peered to the side in confusion, before entering the room, only to stop after a step.

The room was empty, the sheets on the bed untouched and perfectly made. A hiss of air from the corridor startled you, and just as you snapped your head back, the lightbulb above you flickered rapidly before it shattered along with the windows, showering your shocked form with glass shards.

The room was engulfed in darkness, save for the streaks of moonlight filtering past the curtains. You jostled up from where you fell from shock, legs feeling useless as you crawled back out of the room with trembling limbs. Not wanting to look back, you clutched the wall for support before hastily speeding through the endless turns of the hallway.

Corner after corner, panic settled through your system because these were definitely not the same hallway layouts you remembered and memorized like the back of your hand. They were endless and vacant, and you felt like a helpless little mouse in a vast maze. As you quickened your pace into a panicked dash, the windows and light sconces on the wall flickered and shattered with every step you took, and you hastily covered your head and face from the flying glass.

This isn't real, you thought. It can't be real.

"Y/n!"

You froze in your spot, breath caught in your throat as you clamped a hand over your mouth to swallow back a scream threatening to slip past your lips. Did you hear correctly, or was that part of your imagination?

"Y/n," the familiar voice spoke once more.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you daringly poked your head from the corner and into the other hallway. Blood pounded past your ears, and it took more than a second to realize there was a figure of a man at the end of the very long and dark corridor.

He took a step forward and the soft moonlight pouring from the window beside him illuminated his figure, and your breath faltered at the sight of the man's smiling face.

"Seonghwa?"

"What are you running away from, y/n?"

You couldn't properly form a reply at his remark, hands reaching up to rub at your tear pricked eyes. A sob bubbled its way up to escape your throat at the sight of your late friend who merely chuckled at your tears.

"Missed me that much, hm?" he mused, shoulders shaking with an amused chortle, "Why don't you come here and give me hug? You know I don't like seeing you cry."

You couldn't help it as a gnawing feeling of unrest settled in the pit of your stomach. A shudder traveled down your spine, goosebumps decorating your arms, and hair standing on the back of your neck. Your mind couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was that had you so disturbed, but your body displayed all the signs. His tone felt off, and you realize he's playing with you. Toying with you. A small distant voice in your head told you to get away.

A sudden thought found its ways into your mind.

Where was his shadow?

Sensing your hesitation, the friendly expression on his face soon dropped, making way for a stone-cold frown and unamused eyes.

"Y/n."

His cold voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you take a hesitant step back, words slipping out before you even processed them, "I know you're not real."

The feral look that overtakes his expression has you reeling back, and you took off running in the opposite direction. Glass crunches beneath your shoes as you dashed from corridor to corridor, lungs burning and muscles aching from the rush of adrenaline. He called for you repeatedly, and you didn't dare turn back to see how far he's caught up with you. With every turn, his voice grew louder and closer, before a flash of black sends you flying back onto the floor. Your body skids onto the ground, shards of glass pricking at your skin. With a rush of adrenaline fueling your system, you hardly wince as you scrambled back from the towering figure, glass piercing your skin in the process.

You feel an excruciating burst of pain in your foot, and before you had the opportunity to pull your leg back, he slams his foot down onto your ankle once more, grinding the joint roughly with his boot. A loud cry of pain escapes your throat and you to struggle wildly to escape his unrelenting grip.

You glance up and through your tears, you make out the gleam of a large piece of glass in Seonghwa's hands, his threatening, blown out pupils pinning you down like trapped prey. Turning the large shard in his hand to examine it, he hums sarcastically before peering down at you with a quirked brow, "You know, I'm offended." Kneeling down to your level, he traces your cheek with a glass, watching your skin split at the action and beads of blood oozing out from the scratch, "And here I thought we were such good, close friends."

Without missing a beat, your hands flew to grasp the shard, roughly ripping it into the soft tissue of his eye and slipping past his frame to stagger to the nearest broken window. You hear a groan from behind you as he doubles over in shock, blood overflowing from his ruptured eye and spilling down his scowling face. Pain surged with every step you took, but if this was your only option to escape, you think maybe the idea of couple of broken bones doesn't sound too bad.

Hastily, you stepped over the windowsill, your arms and legs catching on the jagged teeth of glass remaining, your clothes tearing in the process. You took a sharp inhale before curiously taking a look back at Seonghwa one last time. The sight of him lunging after you has you falling forward and out of the window. It felt as if gravity had slowed the pace of your fall, and you held eye contact with Seonghwa as your frame descended down from the third story floor. Darkness fogged your eyesight, his figure vanishing within the black abyss.

The impact hit you like a truck, and you sat up with a loud intake of breath on your warm bed. Your chest heaved heavily as you took in your surroundings. You suddenly realize you're in Wooyoung and Yeosang's shared room that hasn't been occupied in months. Your eyes fall onto your feet, and your brows furrow in confusion as a sudden thought invades your head.

You faintly remember your ankle being crushed, but it seemed to feel just fine now. When you attempted to recall why you thought it had been broken, it felt like your mind was searching for a forgotten and fragmented memory. After calming your breathing and thoughts, you sit up to go and find your friend.

You called Wooyoung's name repeatedly, but the silence you were met with indicated he wasn't home.

Peering into your room, you hoped to find him sleeping, however your eyes landed on the wall, the sight of messily painted words catching your attention almost immediately.

Where there are flowers, there are butterflies.

Painted flowers and butterflies littered the wall, the excess ink dripping down into lines onto the wooden floorboards.

"Do you like it?"

You jumped at the voice behind you, swiftly turning around to meet the sight of a familiar head of blue hair. You stood there, mouth agape as you silently stared long and hard at the man that once held and loved you in his arms. A long silence followed suit, hanging in the air like the calm before a storm. A breeze hardly stirred from the open window and not a sound could be heard save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

The forbidding, subtle grin displayed on his features filled you with dread, and the mere sight of him gave your brain a debilitating shock. Your knees couldn't hold your weight any longer, and with buckling limbs, you were sent crashing down onto the floor, the look of disbelief and horror never leaving your expression.

You stared at him but it felt like you couldn't quite focus your gaze on him as he peered down at you in mock pity, a condescending smile playing on his lips. His dark gaze seared you as he crouched down to meet your eye level, hand reaching to cup your cheek as he leaned in to press numerous kisses onto your lips. The gesture was void of the warmth and care you remembered, and you sat still as he trailed fleeting kisses down your the column of your neck, his lips attaching fervently onto your clavicles.

"I missed you so much," you began, catching his attention. Pulling away from your irritated flesh, he quirked his brows at your words, hands brushing the hair out of your face as he let out a chuckle. His finely-chiseled face, illuminated by the oil lamps on the wall, broke into a fond expression. Pulling you close to his frame, he pressed your head against his chest, head dipping to kiss into your hair.

"Do you really?" Your brows furrowed slightly, eyes blinking away the tears as you wrapped your arms around his torso, head pressed against his chest. It's been too long without the feeling of your lover's arms around you. It's just been way too long for you, "If you miss me that much then-"

While nuzzling his chest, you come to realization he lacked a heartbeat, and with that thought striking your mind like lightning, you detached yourself from his form instantly. He eyed your trembling form without any sign of amusement.

"Don't look at me like that!" Cowering back against the wall, you broke into screams of despair, fingers pulling handfuls of your hair as you shook your head rapidly, "You're dead— you're not real!" you slapped the heels of your palms against your temple repeatedly, eyes scrunched shut, "Not real! Not real! This is all just my imagination!"

He released a chilling laugh that traveled down your spine and left your fingers and toes numbingly cold. A sudden gust of wind sent the crispy, autumn leaves scampering wildly into the window while also extinguishing the lamplights that illuminated the room, plunging it into darkness.

You only had a second to register his close proximity, your pupils dilating instantly, before a hand latched onto your throat, ramming your head back against the wall in the process. His vice-like, lithe fingers squeezed around your windpipe, successfully blocking your air flow as you squirmed in his relentless hold, lungs burning and diaphragm spasming.

"You'll join me so we can be together again, hm?"

The fist around your throat choked your response, and he tilted his head with a mocking smile, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

His hold only faltered ever so slightly to give you enough air to speak, "I don't want to die," your reply was a little more than a ghost of a breath.

"But, baby," his fingers coiled around your neck, pressing unforgivingly hard until your darkening vision littered with stars, "don't you realize you're already on the brink of death. Just give in, y/n. Don't keep fighting."

The silence of the atmosphere contributed to the solemnity in the air, and despite the clear blue skies and warm sun, there was a relentless chill in Wooyoung's heart. The black-haired male crouched down over the grave, gently placing a small bundle of roses onto the base of the tombstone.

"Happy birthday, Joong," he mused sadly, his puffy, tired eyes flickering over to the sides where the other tombstones lay.

"I'm so sorry for breaking my promise," he blinked rapidly to rid himself of the stinging tears threatening to spill, nose scrunching slightly as he sniffled, "I should've been there that day- shouldn't have let y/n come here alone- and.."

"You know nothing was your fault, Woo. Stop blaming yourself for something you had no control of."

A hand clutched his shoulder, and he peered with tear-filled eyes to give the blonde male a grateful smile, before turning back to the grave, "Yeosang's awake now though and- and the doctors said that y/n's case isn't as bad as his was, so we have hope."

"Y/n is a stubborn fighter," Yeosang offered the other a small smile, crouching down to rub his trembling friend's back, "Everything will be okay in due time."

"I hope so.. and I hope you'll forgive me, Hongjoong," Wooyoung murmured, watching two small butterflies flutter and chase each other around the blossoming flowers atop of Hongjoong's grave.

#ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #yeosang imagines #seonghwa imagines #choi san imagines #ateez horror

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

A Love Song (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: I know I have a couple of requests to get to, but I had a spark of inspiration thanks to @anakinlove and her reblog about Anakin being able to sing...so y’all know I had to hit you with some angst. But I’m kinda happy with how this turned out?? Idk, I like it. (It could also be terrible I really don’t know) Anyway, as always, requests are open! And I’m always happy to receive feedback from you guys! Thanks so much and I hope y’all like this <3

Requested?: Nope! But it was inspired by that post about Anakin being able to sing. Thanks again Lili :)

Summary: You always found comfort in Anakin singing you to sleep after missions.

A Love Song

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: a small bit of fluff at the beginning? but mostly angst. a lot of angst. and canon-typical violence (and a major character death)

You’re not sure when it started. It must have been after a mission one night a couple of years ago when you were having nightmares. However, since then, after every mission, Anakin has made it his duty to sing you to sleep. You’re not complaining, his singing voice is beyond beautiful and it always found a way to calm you. So, you’d return the favor every once in a while, but it wasn’t the same. Anakin’s voice was special, and you loved that you were the only one he truly shared it with.

“Anakin, love, sing me to sleep?” You smile at your husband, laying down in your bed. You and Anakin share an apartment on Coruscant that both of you try to make it to as often as possible. Since you’re both Jedi, it’s occasionally hard to find time for each other that isn’t sneaking around at the temple. That’s risky business. But for you, it’s all worth it to be with Anakin.

“Of course, darling.” Anakin smiles softly at you and climbs into bed. Then he starts his song.

He sings this song to you every time you ask him to lull you to sleep. It’s a sweet tale of love that he learned when he was a boy on Tatooine. You’re pretty sure it’s sung in Huttese, the common language on Tatooine. Whatever it is, though, it’s beautiful.

Soon enough, you’re fast asleep in Anakin’s arms. He was just as exhausted after your mission you just got back from together, so he sets his head on top of yours and lets himself drift off as well.

~+~

“Anakin, there’s another squad of droids coming in on your left!” You alert your husband as you battle three droids in front of you. Obi-Wan and two other clone troopers are fighting alongside you and Anakin, but the situation isn’t looking good. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission when you got ambushed and everything went south.

“(Y/n), on your right!” Obi-Wan alerts you. You slash through the droid in front of you and heave your lightsaber to your right, slicing through another one.

“Thanks!” You huff out, continuing your assault on the droid army surrounding you. Aside from the two clones left alive, the rest of your clone squad had been taken out. It pained you to see their deaths, but you have to keep fighting despite the casualties.

“Ah!” You hear another clone go down behind you. You let out a heavy groan, killing three more droids in one movement. You look over to Anakin for a moment, just to make sure he’s alright, when you see that he’s struggling. He’s dealing with four droids in front of him, not seeing the one coming up from behind.

“Anakin!” You yell, jumping behind him and blocking the shot. He deals with the droids in front of him and turns around to see you block it just in time.

“Thanks, (Y/n)-” He puffs, seeing you still in shock.

“Ah-” You look down to see that a blaster shot managed to hit you in the stomach. You look back up to see that there was not just one droid coming at Anakin from behind, but two. And even though you deflected the first droid’s shot back at it...you did not manage to block the second.

“(Y/n)!” Anakin’s eyes go wide as he reaches the same realization, seeing your lightsaber clatter to the ground. You see him leap forward and angrily plunge his lightsaber through the droid that hit you. You clutch your stomach, stumbling back a step before falling.

Before you hit the ground, Anakin has caught you and is now cradling you in his lap. He’s kneeling on the ground, one hand covering yours on your stomach as the other one comes up to cup your cheek. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you try to recover from your shock. Everything seems slow and muffled.

You take one hand and set it on his cheek, not quite sure what’s happening. You know you’re dying, but it’s not happening like you thought it would.

He grips your hand against his face, the tears starting to pour. He abandons all caution despite Obi-Wan being right behind him still fighting. He grabs your hand and presses it to his lips, kissing it and hoping beyond all reason that he can make this just go away.

~Your perspective~

Everything is quiet. You can’t hear anything, not even Anakin as you try to read his lips. You think he says something along the lines of ‘medic’ and ‘now’ but you can’t be sure.

You feel your eyes grow heavy and you think maybe you should just close them. That would make everything easier, right?

Yeah.

Anakin’s hand on your cheek brings you back to reality, forcing you to lift your eyes to look at him again. He’s saying something else that you can’t discern so you take the moment to commit his features to memory. So that you can always remember him, even in death. You see how red his eyes are and the tears that don’t seem to stop coming. You see how his lips tremble. You wish you could just kiss it all away. You want to see him happy one last time, but you know that it’s beyond wishful thinking for you to want that.

“Anakin…” You murmur, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand weakly.

“Yes?” You don’t hear him, but the familiar word spills from his lips.

“One...last...song?” You whisper, your glassy eyes pleading to him. He’s silent for a moment, just staring at you in his arms. You know there’s a battle going on around you, but it all seems blocked out as you just stare into your husband’s eyes for the last time.

All of the sudden, your ears fill with the haunting melody that has comforted you for the past two years at least. You relish in the moment, letting the song wrap you in its warmth as the beautiful words flow from his mouth to your heart. Everything else seems so small, so unimportant, compared to Anakin and his voice right now.

A smile starts to form on your face as you continue to bask in the presence and song of your beloved. Your beloved Anakin. His song still seems to calm you in the darkest of days, even in death.

And as the song seems to wholly wrap you up in love and warmth just like his embrace would, you choke out one last phrase to him.

“I love you.”

And then the world around you goes dark.

~3rd Person POV~

Rage is the only thing that fills Anakin as he lunges toward the droid that shot you. He rams his lightsaber into the droid, immediately turning around to look at you. He sees you fall and his instincts kick in, going to catch you before you hit the ground. He cradles you in his arms, his rage quickly melting into despair. He kisses your hand in a desperate attempt to keep you awake and alive.

“Medic! I need a medic now! She needs help!” He screams, sobbing into your hand that’s placed delicately on his cheek. He’s afraid that if he even holds you too hard, you’ll break right in his arms.

“Anakin, our medic is dead. We don’t have reinforcements coming, we have to retreat when the ship gets here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Obi-Wan grunts behind Anakin as he continues to fight.

Anakin looks back down at you to see your eyes start to close and panic kicks in. He brings a hand to your cheek, eyes widening and more tears spilling out.

“No, no, no- stay with me, (Y/n), please stay with me… We just have to wait for the getaway ship, you hear me? Please, just stay with me until I can get you help. I need you. You can’t leave me yet, I love you. I can’t live without you,” He sobs, gripping your hand like it’s your lifeline. He closes his eyes and just rocks back and forth. If he can just hold tight enough, then you’ll never leave him. Right?

“Anakin…” He hears you murmur from below him. His eyes shoot open and he sees you gazing at him with such love it breaks his heart all over again.

“Yes?” He asks, not being able to hold back the broken half-sobs that tumble from his mouth as he watches you die.

“One...last...song?” You request, your voice barely above a whisper. It hits him like a bag of bricks as he stares at your barely-breathing form and he can’t help the sob that tears from his throat.

He tries to gather as much of himself as he can, just to comply with your last wish. Your dying wish.

So he does. He starts his song, the old tale of love from Tatooine. His voice seems to travel throughout the space, and for a moment the battle raging on around him seems to still. He feels like the eye of a storm. Tranquil for just a moment as the world around him seems to be destroyed.

He watches the smile slowly form on your face as the two of you just stare at each other with undeniable love filling your eyes. And as the song nears its end, he hears your voice for the last time.

“I love you.”

And then you’re gone. And so is his spirit.

He cries harder, closing your eyes in reverence before clutching your limp body even closer to him. He whispers sweet nothings to the cold body in his arms.

“I love you so much...I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you,” He whimpers into your robes.

He stays there, in the middle of the battlefield, holding your body to his as the men around him fight the droids away from his moment.

“Anakin, come on! We’re retreating!” He hears Obi-Wan’s voice above the static that fills his head. He doesn’t move, just sits still with you in his arms. Maybe the droids will take him, too. Maybe he can be with you again in the afterlife.

“Sir, come on. Please.” A clone lays a hand on his shoulder. This ignites a fire in Anakin.

No. You wouldn’t want him to just stay and await death. He needs revenge.

Brushing the hand off his shoulder, he stands up and lays your dead body in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“Anakin, what are you-”

Before Obi-Wan can finish, Anakin has launched himself into the droid army and is killing as many droids as he can.

“Sir!” The remaining clone yells.

“Anakin, we need to go! This is not the time!” Obi-Wan yells, torn between grabbing his friend or keeping you in his arms. He looks down at you, grief holding him in its clutches. He eventually has to tear his eyes off of you in guilt.

Anakin continues his rampage into the droid army, and it seems for a moment like he’s completely untouchable. His rage has heightened his ability and he slices through the droids like they’re absolutely nothing.

Obi-Wan watches as Anakin starts working himself to death. There are too many droids, as another army has just arrived, and after a while, Anakin starts to slow down. Obi-Wan recognizes the signs. Anakin is getting tired, but he’s not going to stop.

He won’t stop until he’s dead. Not if he has a choice.

Obi-Wan delicately sets you in the clone’s arms and gives him a solemn look.

“If we get overrun by droids, get to the ship. Take (Y/n)’s body, she...she deserves a proper burial. Please,” Kenobi asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he charges into the droid army.

He fights off droids as fast as he can, trying to make his way to Anakin. Anakin is in the center of the fight, still working himself past his breaking point as he kills every droid around him that he can.

“Anakin, we need to go! Now!” Obi-Wan demands, trying to grab Anakin’s arm. He wrenches it away from his grasp.

“No! They must pay!” Anakin growls, almost not sounding like himself as he continues his slaughtering of the droids.

Obi-Wan wonders if he would be doing the same if the droids were people, the thought slightly terrifying him.

“That’s it!” Obi-Wan yells, using the force to blast back the droids in a circle. He grabs Anakin’s arm and starts to run toward the getaway ship.

“No!” Anakin protests, trying to go back to the fight. Obi-Wan’s grip is too strong, however, and Anakin is too tired after everything.

Obi-Wan and Anakin meet the clone in the getaway ship and they take off. Anakin turns around to face Obi-Wan, his eyes lit up with a rage Obi-Wan had never seen before.

“You should have let me back out there! I need to get revenge for what they did to-”

“Anakin, revenge is not the Jedi way-”

“I don’t care!” He screams. There’s a tense moment of silence.

“Don’t say that, Anakin…” Obi-Wan trails off, hurt seeping into his words.

“You’re heartless,” Anakin accuses, “you never even cared about her!”

Obi-Wan stills for a moment before casting a forlorn glance at your body on the floor that’s covered by a tarp.

“Never accuse me of that. I just watched one of my best friends die and the other one almost kill himself. Anakin, I’m trying to save your life as much as her loss pains me.” Obi-Wan mutters, looking back over to Anakin. Anakin sees the fresh tears starting to paint his cheeks, which forces Anakin to come to reality with the situation. His anger is no longer aiding anything, as there is nothing to attack here. Obi-Wan is not the droid army, he should not hold the same anger to him. But why does he still feel so much pent up rage?

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” Anakin breaks down, and Obi-Wan hugs him tightly.

“She loved you, Anakin. Enough to die for you. Don’t let her sacrifice go to waste,” Obi-Wan whispers to Anakin as the two of them cry together. Neither of them touches the subject of the love between them, as it doesn’t seem to matter to either of them at this point. Their shared grief, although one more painful than the other, keeps them silent on the matter.

And for a moment, everything finally seems tranquil.

But there’s a darkness now planted in Anakin, and it won’t stay small for long.

~~~~~

Tags: @anakinlove @official-hitmxn @rowley-with-ackerman @spideyboipete

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beyoncesdragon · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨

idk what genre that is, Yuta x Reader

yeah so Yuta is a scorpio for everyone who's living under a rock and I wrote this after Gimme Gimme came out. so thats just 1k words of me coping, basically

warnings: its definitely feeding into the whole Badboy!Yuta trope, he's perhaps a bit of a man-whore, not to mention a literal piece of shit, swearing, mentioning of nature themes including taking someone to Hong Kong :)

enjoy lmao

Yuta Nakamoto was your dirty little secret. Which was funny, because he himself wasn’t a secret at all. He was known (and feared, even) he was looked up and down on, his name was probably a sensitive topic in multiple relationships and he had successfully built up his reputation as a person not to be fucked with. You could like him or you couldn’t, but either way you lived more comfortable just not getting in his way.

Yuta was chaos and Yuta was trouble, he was bad news, detention, whispering in the back of the classroom and interrupting classes by coming late with a cocky smirk and followed by a dishevelled looking girl, buttons not closed properly in a hurry, he was blushing boys struggling to keep their composure, short; he was absolutely no good.

You had sworn never to be one of them, but Yuta had never been one to care much about what other wanted or desired. Not unless it involved him, not unless he could make use of that somehow.

And he disliked your boyfriend.

“He’s nice, yes.” Yuta’s lips twitched amused.

“Yeah?” you narrowed your eyes at him filled with the weird desire to prove it to him.

“Yeah. He took me on a trip recently.” Yuta’s smirk sharpened at your words, eyes glinting dangerously.

“A trip you say? Where to?” you didn’t trust him. Not one bit did you believe that Yuta Nakamoto was just generally interested in your dating life, even less the location of a goddamn date he didn’t even attend.

“Oh not far, just the next little –“

“Yeah I assumed that it couldn’t be Hong Kong, sweetheart.” Your eyes shot up to meet his, in anger about his blasé and arrogant manner and then widened. The double sense of his words managed to drive up heat into your cheeks, embarrassment and shame mixing with the feeling of offense you took for your partner.

Yuta was absolutely shameless.

He clicked with his tongue impatiently before falling back against the wall.

“Funny how you’re not even defending him. Poor boy must really suck then, it’s a shame.” You opened your mouth to protest but he just clicked with his tongue again.

“Ah it’s too late now, baby. I could teach him, you know? I do the work and he watches.” The verbal response you intended on firing at him died in your throat. Your head felt as if it would explode with anger and there was a throbbing pain pulsating behind your temples.

Was it bad that the idea didn’t even sound that bad? Yes, yes it was. Especially because you knew how good Yuta actually was.

You blinked the memory away and rose your hand in a weak attempt to whack his arm but Yuta was quick to catch your wrist and sabotage your attempt.

“No need to disguise your thoughts with violent actions here, I’m shocked.” He teased with a laugh in his voice before he let go of your hand and settled his eyes on someone approaching behind you.

“Jiwon.” He greeted with a sly fake smile, nothing but mockery in his voice. “Yuta.” Jiwon replied, but there was a question in his voice, maybe a bit of fear. Hesitatingly he reached out for your hand which you happily offered.

“You come to watch now…?” Jiwon asked with an uneasy smile, motioning for you to follow him, away from Yuta and towards the neatly made football pitch.

“Yeah sure…” before you could say anything more, Jiwon had pulled you towards him to plant a hasty (admittedly a bit too wet) kiss on your lips before running off, leaving it to you to follow him. On the way one of his teammates passed him the ball and he took the time to stop it, place it and then centre the ball towards the goal. Yuta chuckled softly.

“Not the only place where his game is weak, huh?” You scoffed angrily, throwing him a dirty glare. “And how would you know?”

“I used to play.”

“Oh really.”

Yuta calmly let his gaze sway from the ball down to you, an amused twinkle mocking you before he even opened his mouth.

“Yes really. For eleven years babygirl. And this centre was weak.” You didn’t know what to respond to that so you just stayed quiet, lips pressed together in a thin line. Damn he was infuriating.

“Y/N!”

“Coming!” You gave Yuta a last look, surprised when he also pushed himself off the wall, approaching you with a few steps. “Next time…try not to choke on his tongue.” he chuckled into your ear before strolling away towards his motorbike, hands in his pockets, a confident bounce to his step.

“What was that?” Jiwon asked with raised eyebrows when you finally reached the pitch. You just shrugged, eyes wandering back to where Yuta had headed. He was still here, leaned against his motorcycle, surrounded by a bunch of his friends.

You watched his lips curl up into a small laugh when Taeyong, one of his closest friends, arguably, whispered something in his ear. He shook his head quickly before pointing at something on his arm. You had no idea what they were talking about, yet Yuta’s livid way of gesturing out his words made it seem like you didn’t even had to stand closer to be part of it.

He looked up surprisingly and his eyes met yours before you could look away. He froze momentarily, soft surprise washing over his pretty features. Then, slowly at first, a tiny, dirty and self-satisfied grin settled on his lips, right before he mockingly bowed his head at you.

Yuta got under your skin, again, if you liked it or not.

And he noticed, of course. This devil.

✰- nct127 masterlist

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the-last-cuddlebender · 3 years

Note

Since when young Tenzin is underloved? His dad loved him the best and treated him as the special one and his mom adores him and maybe his siblings would give him shit when they were kids because they were jealous but he had Lin as a good friend and then he cheated on her with a 20yrs younger woman. The guy gets as much loved as he deserves

Hi, anon! So there’s a few things to unpack here, so I’ll try to be as concise as I can. This is pretty much what I think Tenzin’s childhood was really like and why he should be appreciated just as much as Bumi and Kya. Also with Kataang TLOK parenting thrown in. I’m pretty tired and don’t wanna edit an essay, so I apologize if it rambles.

Also, I’m not gonna touch the whole Tenzin cheating point. I’m fairly certain that that’s just objectively wrong. Everything else I’m more than happy to discuss, though:D

To be clear, when I say I feel like Tenzin is under-loved, I mean by the fandom (and by TLOK, but to a smaller degree). Under-appreciated might be a better word. Or under-explored? Idk. I just know that Tenzin’s childhood—just his—doesn’t get the attention it deserves. Outside of Tenzin having some angsty one-on-one’s with Aang (which I love, make no mistake!), I don’t see a lot fleshing out his childhood. Bumi and Kya get a lot of it, though (or the kids as a whole, but nothing that’s just Tenzin’s).

I don’t subscribe to the idea that Aang treated Tenzin as “the special one.” Bumi and Kya being jealous—in the way that seems to be the majority consensus—of Tenzin when they were kids is a bit hard for me to imagine, too. I try to stick to canon as much as I can, but, for some things, I have to draw the line. There has to be evidence, not just anecdote, otherwise I hc it into oblivion. I’m not saying their feelings in TLOK aren’t valid. They absolutely are, and Aang would never want those feelings to be invalidated. Children just retain things differently. A traumatic accident could have no effect on them but falling in the shower and bumping their head might. Developing brains are weird.

I can see Kya and Bumi giving Tenzin some shit when they were kids (Tenzin does admit that Kya picked on him), but I highly doubt that was any more/less than normal sibling rivalry and Cain Instinct. Sure, Aang might have given Tenzin attention for being an airbender, but he gave Kya and Bumi attention for being a waterbender and a non-bender, too. To me, it’s like having siblings who play different sports. Just because dad went to every one of my sister’s soccer games doesn’t mean he didn’t attend every one of my basketball games. The hyperfixation on airbending in TLOK makes it sound like that was all Aang cared about, but even in ATLA we can see that that isn’t true. If it was, then he would have kicked out the mechanist from the Northern Air Temple.

To say that Aang loved Tenzin the best is to imply that he loved his other children poorly, which isn’t true in the slightest. I can entertain the argument that he spent more one-on-one time with Tenzin, but that could be attributed to different children with different personalities having different wants and different needs for validation from their parents. And I will gladly defend it, even though I personally hc otherwise.

It’s hard to talk about Tenzin without also talking about Aang and Katara, so bear with me here:

Tenzin and Kya:

Tenzin was the last airbender besides Aang. Kya was the last waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe besides Katara. To assume Aang treated Tenzin as the “special one” because he’s an airbender would, if using the same logic, mean assuming Katara treated Kya as the “special one” for being a waterbender.

I’ve never understood why The Southern Water Tribe being inherited by the Kataang kids isn’t as big of a deal as Air Nomad culture. Both of them were recovering cultures on the brink of extinction, so they both have a lot of pressure for the kids to live up to.

Plus, if Sokka had a right of passage for being a Water Tribe warrior, then who’s to say there wasn’t a right of passage for Kya, specifically, for being a waterbender? She would be the special one, there. And maybe Tenzin struggled with his two heritages because being an Air Nomad meant being vegetarian but being Water Tribe meant using dead fish to go penguinsledding?

Tenzin and Learning too soon:

Tenzin probably learned about his responsibility of carrying the legacy of the airbenders at a very, very young age. Aang and Katara probably tried their hardest to wait until he was older to tell him (a-la Gyatso wanting to wait until Aang was older for him to carry the burden of being the airbenders’—and the world’s—last hope, too), but it was unavoidable. It was a part of the world’s history, and the aftermath of the war wasn’t exactly something a kid could avoid. Plus, I’m sure Aang wanted to correct airbender history as it was taught in schools as soon as he got the opportunity after the war.

Tenzin just has the abstract “idea” of what his bending culture was like when it was alive and well. Aang has memories to draw upon from which to imagine the future that the airbenders needed to rebuild towards. Tenzin gets second-hand notes.

Tenzin also didn’t have a baseline by which to measure if he was a “good airbender.” He had only Aang to compare himself to. ONLY AANG. This is talked about in TLOK but only in regards to Aang being his dad, if I’m not mistaken. But Aang isn’t just Tenzin’s dad. Aang is his father, the Avatar, and the youngest airbender to get his master’s tattoos. That’s a LOT more to live up to than just being his kid. And it’s the only thing Tenzin has to compare himself to to measure whether or not he’s a good airbender. I’m shocked that his spiritual ineptitude isn’t more of a haunting issue for him, quite frankly.

Tenzin and Bullying:

Tenzin didn’t have any airbenders his age (anyone like him) growing up. Even Aang had a childhood with other airbenders. As a father, Aang was as playful as a kid, sure, but, to a child, it isn’t quite the same because they don’t share that special bond of growing together and having a shared upbringing.

Katara can especially empathize with this.

Airbending is the element of fun. It’s kindof hard to express/embrace that facet of the element if Tenzin is the only one his age who can wield it.

I can almost guarantee that Tenzin got voted out of playing with other kids at least a few times because he was the only airbender (and that would make teams unfair). He probably learned to play by himself. That would certainly make him serious. Toph would probably teach him how to entertain himself, too. And that might lead to Tenzin and Lin hanging out. Who knows?

I honestly think Tenzin was bullied quite a bit (and not by Kya and Bumi), and that the bullying attributed to his demeanor as he grew up. Him cowering from Kya or running from his siblings when they picked on him was an exasperation of what he was probably dealing with outside his home.

In the recent comic with Katara and the pirates, we see a Fire Nation soldier flaunt some pretty nasty ideas about the Air Nomads because of Sozin’s propaganda. I don’t think that 15 years (or however long Tenzin was born after the war) is going to reverse that. Tenzin was probably picked on for being an airbender in addition to being the Avatar’s kid.

If the rise of fashion post-war was as fast-growing as industry, I can imagine kid-Tenzin being made fun of for being bald (even though it was part of his religion/culture) and for dressing in robes when the world, especially Republic City, was beginning to adopt different clothes.

Tenzin is an incredibly tender soul around those he loves but also incredibly serious around his adversaries. He has a soft inside and an armored shell, and that thick skin is usually forged through unsavory interactions. And he definitely interacted with plenty of normal kids his age. Aang missed the chance after the ice, and Katara was the only one her age in her village besides (kindof) Sokka. There’s no way Aang and Katara would keep their kids cooped up and strictly homeschooled. At the very least, Toph would bust them out if they did.

Tenzin and Katara:

Now, I’m not saying that Tenzin blames Aang because he obviously doesn’t. But Aang has memories of what airbender life was like, and Tenzin has only dreams. Honestly, it’s like he’s caught in the situation Aang was in when he was a young Avatar. They both have to live up to something that was pretty much just a legend. How could Tenzin possibly be expected to compare himself to something like that and be peachy fine? Aang wasn’t. So maybe, just maybe, Aang and Katara decided to have Tenzin go on private trips with Aang so Tenzin could understand that part of himself that was so hard for him to get? Inner peace is pretty dang hard to think about with THAT much pressure.

And yes, it was Aang and Katara who decided on the trips. I will not for a second believe that 1.) Aang would make that kind of decision without her input or 2.) that Katara would let one of her kids get private time with dad that would even potentially give the illusion of favoritism.

Katara knew how important one-on-one time with a parent was to some kids. This is why she tells Sokka to go see Hakoda instead of her in Ba Sing Se. She saw not only how much Sokka wanted but how much he NEEDED to see their dad. Sokka and Tenzin were both caught in a “passing of the torch” scenario (tbh, the scene where Aang tells Tenzin that he’s proud of him in the Spirit World reminds me of when Hakoda tells Sokka that he’s proud of him during the invasion when he’s injured. In both instances, it kindof solidifies the official passing of the torch).

“You didn’t love her like I did”—Katara learned pretty quick in tsr about how incredibly toxic the assumption of loving or being loved more/less was. She would never under any circumstance agree to anything that would show favoritism to one of her children. Absolutely no way. Aang and Katara are a team, and to villainize one for favoritism is to villainize the other.

Tenzin and Yue:

Tenzin had a stressful upbringing. I would even make the argument that he and Yue had a similar time trying to conform to a responsibility that they were told/learned about at a too young age. Their mindsets are very similar—responsibility even at the sacrifice of their own wants and happiness and an overwhelming love for their father.

Tenzin: “I have a responsibility to Republic City.” Yue: “I have a duty to my Tribe.”

They were both determined to love and carry on the legacy of their father and their people, but they did it in their own way. They both struggled with their responsibilities from an extremely young age.

Finishing thoughts I guess:

*********************************************

I can imagine a young Tenzin crying and trying to hide from the world that was shoving its weight onto his shoulders, and who, when Aang finds him hiding in the bison stables or somewhere similar, cringes away from Aang for a split second before recognizing his father and holding on so tight that it hurt. Aang tried his damnedest to teach Tenzin airbending and the responsibility of being the last airbender when Aang was gone, but even he knew that he couldn’t keep the weight of the world off of Tenzin forever. Aang never got that chance when he was told he was the Avatar. He heard the monks say that he was “the airbenders’ last hope” because storm clouds were gathering. Young Tenzin probably felt just as hopeless. The one-on-one trips he took with Aang were specifically to the places Aang had visited in S1 when he was still recovering from realizing that he was the last airbender. Maybe Aang took Tenzin with him one-on-one, just the two of them, to drive home the message that Tenzin was not the last airbender like Aang had been?

“I-I’m just one kid…I can’t. I…I-I’m just—”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh…I know, buddy. I know. But you’re my kid, too. You’re my entire world.”

“Everyone says I’m—”

“Don’t worry about them. They’re not here.”

“B-But—”

“But? What but? Are you hiding someone in your sleeping bag, Breeze-Butt?”

“N…No…”

“And do you see anyone else here?”

“…No.”

“That’s right. So don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now, okay? Just breathe. There you go. Just like I taught you—You’re doing so well, bud. Shhh…You’re okay. You’re not just one kid. You’re Tenzin. And you’re my son. You and your brother and sissy are my entire world. I love you so, so much...Oh, see? There’s that million-yuan smile!”

“…Thanks, Daddy. Love you.”

“Love you more. Do you want to try going in the water again? Or we can stay up here if you like. Whatever you want.”

“I wanna try again. But…But maybe just a small fish? I don’t wanna fall off again…I-I can’t do the air-chute yet…and the water hurt.”

“I’ll round up the smallest koi there is. I’ll sit right behind you, too. How’s that sound? I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay!”

*********************************************

Maybe this has been said before idk. These are just my thoughts on Kataang parents and Tenzin. I retcon the entire Kataang family as it’s presented in TLOK, but this is how I imagine it going down in canon.

This isn’t an attack on any person or fandom btw! I just think Tenzin isn’t as appreciated as the airbean deserves😞 He’s been through so much😭

If there’s a secret stash of young Tenzin appreciation content somewhere, please share! I might be looking in the wrong places for Tenzin love, and I would love nothing more than to be wrong, honestly. So, please, if there’s a secret stash, yeet me that link!!

#tenzin #Avatar The Last Airbender #the legend of korra #atla #tlok #answered #aang #tenzin love #cloudbabies #kataang #katara #Kya II #Bumi II #the cuddles have spoken #im sorry for the late response anon I had a helluva day #tbh just my ramblings in a sorry excuse for an post I’m sorry okay😭 I tried to make it presentable at least lol #in this house we stan bestdad!Aang and bestmom!katara😤😤😤#thanks for the ask!#post

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roguerogerss · 4 years

Note

Hi babe! I saw you wanted some requests so here I am! Could you do a Bucky x reader where the reader has secret telekinesis abilities (or whatever Wanda can do lmao) and is forced to use them on a mission. Bucky is just in shock bc his secret crush is a even more of a badass, so when he compliments her powers, she gets flustered and disagrees bc they’re dangerous, so Bucky helps her see the beauty in them? Tysm ❤️❤️

His Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

W/C: 3.9k (eek sorry!)

Warnings: Language (??), that's literally it.

(A/N: This one got away from me a little and I wrote wayyy more than anticipated. I hope u like it though? Idk. I had so much fun with this request, thank u sm bb! Praying that someone reads this, even though it's a whole ass novel.)

————

"Bucky, where are you? We have a minute and eight seconds until this place blows."

Y/N was worried, and, upon hearing her frantic voice in his intercoms, Bucky was too. He was aware that he didn't have long until the bomb detonated, but unaware of just how short that amount of time was. He was caught up in a fight, one that was frustrating in the way that he couldn't shake this guy. "Yeah, be there in five?"

He was being sarcastic, he must've been being sarcastic, Y/N shook her head and pressed her fingers to her temples, agitated. "Five what? Five seconds? Minutes? Bucky, I have to ask, are you insane?"

She seemed angry - no, she was most definitely angry - and Bucky silently cursed himself and allowed the Hydra agent to get a hit in, he thought he probably deserved it. "Look, I'll get out. Is there anything you guys can do to buy me some more time?"

Tony had chimed in by this point, telling Bucky that he was 'fucking crazy', ranting and raving to the heavens above about how the entire motive had been messed up and they might as well have stayed home. Y/N knew that she could help him, but that would mean using them - she didn't like to call them by the name that most would use - and she wasn't sure if it was really worth the risk. Bucky would get out, right? He'd work something out.

But time was ticking on, fifty-nine seconds now, and she was unsure of just how right that assumption was. She wasn't even entirely sure that she still had her powers, since she'd avoided using them or telling anyone that they existed since she'd escaped from the grasp of Hydra. Even as she doubted her abilities, she found herself rising from her seat behind the control panels of the Quinjet, next to Steve, and sprinting to the exit to the aircraft.

"Y/N, where are you going?" Steve asked, getting up and following her. The rest of the team were staring now, Natasha and Tony also standing from their places and looking expectantly in Y/N's direction.

"I have something that'll help. Something that you guys don't know about." She said sheepishly, slamming her palm down on the button that opened the exit hatch. "Don't worry, I've got this."

Even though she was promising her friends that everything would be okay, they seemingly didn't believe her, as all five of the other Avengers on the ship - Tony, Nat, Steve, Sam and Thor - followed her out onto the streets of Bucharest, where the public was in awe at the huge, futuristic ship that was sat in the middle of a narrow, cobbled street. Natasha had told them to go home, she'd made the best effort she could to make sure that everyone was safe. However, no one had listened, and so she desperately ushered them away from the place that she knew would soon be rubble, while Y/N ran in search for Bucky.

They had what they'd came for, but that didn't mean that there were no Hydra agents willing to get into altercations with the team. Thor and Steve were frantically fighting off a pack of them, while Tony and Sam helped Y/N, hopefully getting a better view of the streets and where Bucky might be. "Hey, Y/N, I got him. Turn right, next street over. You'll see him." Sam spoke into the intercoms. Y/N thanked him, hurrying off in search of the super-soldier to whom she'd taken more than a liking to over the few months that he'd been fighting with them.

"Buck, I'm on my way, you better be ready to get the fuck out of here." Bucky's eyebrows furrowed as he wondered why Y/N, of all people, was the one who was coming to save him. He had to admit, he was more embarrassed than anything else, needing the help of the one girl who he'd felt anything for in seventy years. But he tried to brush it off, mostly because he had to focus on not letting a Hydra agent rip his arm off, and answered her.

"What are you gonna do? If I can't fight him off, no offence, but what makes you think you'll be able to?" Bucky sounded breathless, and she could hear the obvious sounds of strain and struggle as he continued to tussle with the agent. Y/N took a deep breath and turned the corner, close enough to hear the ominous beeping of the explosive device that a Hydra agent had planted there in hopes of causing harm to one of the Avengers.

"You know what, maybe don't question it. I have my own doubts, but it certainly doesn't help that you have them too."

The agent, who was currently deep in a brawl with Bucky, noticed Y/N, but all that she was able to think about was the amount of time that was left on the clock. She asked FRIDAY, and a rush of adrenaline and fear coursed through her when she realised that they weren't going to get out in time.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

Y/N drew her gun and shot the Hydra agent, not missing as usual, and Bucky snorted. "Couldn't have done that earlier?"

Four, three, two,

She knew that this was it. It was either expose the world to her powers, probably be deemed as a weapon and certainly become even more wanted by Hydra, or die, and let her friends die too. She took a deep breath and felt the horribly familiar surge of - what was it, electricity? She wasn't actually sure - coursing through her body, and watched as Bucky ogled at the purple wisps of magic that extended from her hands and the way that her irises seemed to ignite.

One.

Bucky ducked and shielded his face, but looked up again when he didn't hear, nor feel anything that would signal an explosion had happened. Y/N had it under control, holding the bomb together with just her fingertips. She'd thought that it wouldn't happen, that her abilities would've simply subsided into nothingness due to being unused for so long, but she was wrong. She'd done it, and there was no going back now.

And then? The small explosion turned huge, and lurched forwards, setting a civilian apartment building completely alight. Y/N stood, watching, mouth wide open and quite unable to understand the circumstances of what the hell just happened. Bucky was at her side, a hand on her shoulder as he, too, watched the destruction take place. The rest of the team had rushed straight there, each one of them with hands over agape mouths while Steve called for Fire and Rescue and Tony wondered aloud, 'What the fuck is going on?'

Y/N found herself on her knees. She could see and hear Bucky in front of her, worry in his eyes as a few tears dripped from her chin onto her chest, but she didn't have it in her to decipher what his words meant, they all just sounded muffled and like he was speaking a language that she didn't understand.

She didn't know what she'd done, how bad it was, but she could hear the screams of the residents of the building, she could feel them vibrating through her body and ringing in her ears, and that was enough to convince her that her enhancements truly were the worst thing about her, that she really was the weapon that Hydra had deliberately mutated her to be.

--------

It had been hours. How many, Y/N was unsure, but a considerable amount of time had passed since they'd gotten home. The flight back from Bucharest had consisted of Y/N locking herself in a cabin, and the rest of the people on the Quinjet taking it in turns to try to speak to her, to try to understand.

No one, apart from Bucky, (who only had a vague idea), knew what had happened. There wasn't a single person on the jet who could fully understand it, Y/N included.

She was now sat on a sofa in the lounge, chewing off parts of her nails while everyone murmured and tiptoed around her. Tony was speaking quickly on the phone and glancing at her every couple of seconds, Steve was pacing back and forth along the length of the room.

Y/N wondered for a minute what would happen. Would she be arrested? Would something like the accords happen again? Was she about to become the cause of another civil war? Would Tony disown her? Send her back to Hydra? She didn't know. She didn't think she wanted to know.

Wanda and Natasha had come to comfort Y/N at first, sat with her and braided her hair like they did often, and it was nice to think that Wanda knew exactly what she was going through.

However, she'd told them that she wanted to be alone, and they'd dispersed and were sitting quietly in two separate armchairs, watching a movie with Sam. The truth was, she didn't really want to be alone. She wanted Bucky. She didn't quite know why, but she'd always felt calm around him, which was one of the reasons why she'd taken such a shine to him, and she made it very clear to herself that she was at least a little bit in love with Bucky, in a way that was less platonic and more romantic.

She couldn't lie and say that she was happy with the way that he'd handled things, though. As soon as the jet landed, he mumbled something about taking a shower and hurried off to his room, like he couldn't stand to be around her for any longer, like he was afraid of her.

And, honestly? She wouldn't be surprised if he was.

The truth, of course, wasn't that Bucky didn't want to see her, it wasn't that he was afraid of her, it was that she was evidently upset. It was tearing him apart to have to see her like that. He felt like he was obligated to be alone to think about what had happened, because he knew that - realistically - it was his fault that she'd had to use her powers. He'd been caught up in a fight, the bomb that had been planted was seconds away from detonating, she had to do something. Of course, he had no idea that something was going to be exposing hidden telekinetic abilities to the world, but close enough, right?

"I just got off the phone with a higher up." Tony stood in the middle of the lounge, everyone looking at him as he began his speech. "Everything's gonna be fine. Just, maybe don't turn on the news for a couple days, Y/N doesn't need to see that."

"Don't act like I'm a kid, please." Y/N spoke up, making it clear that she was annoyed by the fact that everyone was seemingly ignoring that it was her who had done this. "I did this, Tony. I want to know how much damage I caused."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, shaking his head at her. "No, this is not the time to get all Steve-y on me, okay? You don't need to see it, you don't need to know, so you're not going to. Is that clear to you?"

"Mistakes happen, Y/N. It's not your fault." Steve said from where he was standing, next to the breakfast bar. "What matters is that you tell us what actually happened at some point."

"So, what I'm going to take from that, is that it's bad." She turned from Steve, back to Tony. "I'm not weak, I can deal with what I did, Tony."

Tony snapped, the stress of the situation and the argument from his daughter-figure becoming too much for him to handle, "Goddamn it, Y/N, you really wanna know what you did? Let's see, first of all, you used whatever powers you have, something that you clearly knew about but warned no one of. Second of all, you essentially bombed an apartment building in a poor part of Romania, you literally took from the poor. And now what? Fifty-five people are dead, kids have been left without parents, and that's on my back. Plus, you're being publicly deemed as a weapon until they figure out what's really going on there. So, do tell us, what is really going on there?"

"Tony. Stop." Wanda said, but Y/N was already halfway out of the room, with Tony realising that he probably shouldn't have said what he did and following after her.

"Y/N, hey, I'm sorry, okay?" Tony called, but she wasn't listening. She got in the elevator and left Tony alone in the hallway without a word, tears threatening to spill from her eyes the whole time.

And then, finally, they did. When the doors of the elevator closed, when she could no longer hear Tony's voice, when she was alone, oh they did. She found herself on the floor, face cradled in her hands - the same hands that killed fifty-five people just hours before - and there were tears falling from her eyes, past her chin, soaking her black catsuit.

She felt empty, like her body was a shell and she was simply there, watching herself fall apart. It was a kind of guilt, one that ate at her from the inside and seared through every nerve, every part of her, until she could think of doing nothing but curling up and ceasing to exist. She wanted to yell, scream, punch something, run. Anything that would distract her from how she felt. She wanted to sleep for a week, maybe two, forget about everything and ignore her responsibilities until it hurt less. Most importantly, however, she wanted Bucky. She wanted now more than ever to be his girl. For him to lay with her and tangle his fingers in her hair and whisper sweet things in her ear until the bad things in the world simply melted away.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, but Y/N didn't get up, not until FRIDAY asked if she wanted to go to another floor. When she did, however, she found herself taking the wrong turn, to the left instead of to the right, and walking away from her room instead of towards it. Without thinking, she'd already opened the door to Bucky's room, where he was reclined lazily on his bed, a pair of sweatpants on and nothing else, focused on the ceiling.

He furrowed his eyebrows at her when she gave him a tiny little smile, but sighed when he noticed the remnants of her somewhat breakdown on her face. Bucky held his arms open, "Hey, c'mere."

She stepped into his embrace, tears finding their way onto her face again, and let him caress her back and play with her hair until the crying stopped. When Bucky held her, everything felt different, like she could put things into perspective and understand that maybe it wasn't all her fault. "Look, I know you think that this is the end of the world. I know it's scary, but Wanda learned how to use her powers for good. You can do the same." Bucky's attempt at comforting Y/N wasn't exactly superlative, but she knew that he was trying.

"I'm a weapon, Buck." She pulled away from him and sat on the end of the bed, wanting to cry and clawing at the sleeves of her suit in an essay to calm herself down. "That's how Tony worded it, anyway. I shouldn't have used them."

Bucky knew that his next question was stupid, that he probably shouldn't have asked it, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he was speaking before properly thinking over the consequences. "How did you get them?" He reached out for her hand and she let him hold it, getting a rush of exhilaration from the affectionate gesture.

Bucky wasn't usually one for showing how he felt, much less for saying it out loud or doing anything to communicate his feelings, and he wasn't quite sure why he had had a sudden change of heart and almost wanted her to know that he liked her, that, really, he would do anything for her. She didn't meet his eye as she began her explanation. "Well, before Tony found me, I worked for Hydra. Actually, less worked for them and more became their personal lab rat. They did a lot of experiments on me, tortured me, really, made me more destructive than any enemy organisation would know how to handle. And then, I escaped. And here I am, talking to you."

She gave him a sad little smile, one that he would swear had broken him. "I'm sorry." It was a lame excuse for comfort, really it was, but he racked his brain once, twice, and couldn't for the life of him find the right words to say.

"Don't be." Y/N shifted in her place, gaze on her hands which were clasped in her lap. It was quiet and Bucky wished that he knew what to say to her, that he could think of something that would make her feel less alone or soothe her in some way. A minute went by, two minutes, three minutes. The silence might've been comfortable between the pair, but it was certainly uncomfortable between Y/N and her own thoughts. "I should go." She said, standing from her place on the bed without looking in Bucky's direction once.

He knew that he had to say something, anything that would make her stay. The thought of her alone in her room was heartbreaking to him. He grabbed her wrist before she could take any more than a few steps towards the door and she looked down at him, lips slightly parted and one eyebrow raised in a silent question. "You're not a weapon. Sure, Stark said that, whatever, the guy's an asshole. But you're not a weapon, Y/N."

She gave a little humourless laugh, blowing a puff of air out of her nose. "The government apparently seem to think so."

Bucky smiled at her and said, "Fuck the government."

"Oh, so you're an anarchist now? Classy." Y/N sat back down and Bucky's heart felt like it was doing summersaults in his chest, all fluttery. She was smiling, he had made her smile, and it was genuine. As far as he was concerned, nothing else really mattered.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually."

Bucky sighed and cocked an eyebrow at her, eliciting a laugh from her lips. "You're really going to make me explain myself, huh?" He joked. "Look, You're not a weapon to me. I think you're a badass, actually." She snorted.

"Bucky, I killed a lot of people."

"So have I." Bucky's tongue darted out to wet his lips as he placed a tender hand on her thigh. "You don't see me as the bad guy. You never have, actually. What I'm trying to say, is that all of us have done bad things. Made mistakes, lost control, that doesn't make us bad people."

"I feel like a bad person." Y/N had her eyes trained on Bucky's face, bottom lip held tightly between her teeth as she tried to avoid letting herself word-vomit about everything that she was feeling at that moment. His hand squeezed her thigh gently, and she let out an embarrassing and involuntary gasp that made her cheeks turn bright red.

"Don't. Y/N, I know it's cheesy as hell, but you did it to save my life, right?" Y/N nodded slowly, "So how does that make you a bad person?"

"You're grasping at strings, here."

“What can I say that'll make you feel better?"

Y/N knew what she wanted to hear, that he liked her as more than a friend, that he wanted to be with her like she wanted to be with him, that her fantasies weren't just fantasies, that he really did love her. But she couldn't say that. God, of course she couldn't say that. So, instead, she simply shrugged.

Bucky knew what he wanted to say to her, that he liked her as more than a friend, wanted her to be with him, of course he loved her. He couldn't drop all of that on her when all she'd given was a shrug, right? Wrong, apparently, because the words spilled from his mouth anyways, like he couldn't control himself.

And really, he couldn't. But he figured that she already knew that.

“I love you." He spluttered, and her eyes widened in shock. "Okay? God, I love you. And what you did today? Made me love you even more. I know you probably don't want to hear this, you don't want me to ruin our friendship, and I get it, I do. But, right now, all I wanna do is protect you, and let you know that you're really not the monster that you think you are."

She stayed silent. What could she say? Her head was swimming with ideas, but none of them really seemed fit. She thought that, if this day ever came, if somehow it came down to confessing her feelings for him, she'd know exactly what to say.

She really couldn't have been more wrong.

So, instead of speaking, she found herself simply staring at Bucky, into his eyes. Had he moved closer? Had she? Either way, their noses were soon bumping together and he was searching her face for any sign of disapproval, one that wasn't there, and so he kissed her.

She felt dizzy, lightheaded, like she couldn't quite figure out where her body ended and Bucky's began, and she didn't think she really wanted to. Lips on lips, his hand on her waist and hers roaming his hair, it felt like heaven.

She was on a high, he was too, and the comedown was breathless and just as euphoric as the real thing. "I love you too." Y/N said.

Bucky couldn't help the plainly stupid, goofy grin that had spread across his face. Did he look like an idiot? Unequivocally. Did he care? Maybe, but that wasn't the point.

"I should get back to my room." Y/N said quietly, a small smile on her lips. "Thanks for...uh, the talk."

Bucky laughed and let her get up, walk to the door and open it while he watched in a daze, and then he stopped her. "Let me walk you."

"I can handle myself."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart. But I'm not entirely sure that you should."

Really, she was already his girl. She always had been.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #fanfic #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #deadass a novel #sorry #rogues requests #rogue writes #rogue does marvel

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fangirlandiknowit101 · 3 years

Note

30 BTS writer asks: 1, 12 + 18? ❤️🌻

Almost forgot to add - thanks for asking<33333

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Unsurprisingly, it was for Naruto and Sasuke/Naruto. You can still read it in all its glory, even on ao3 lmao. Might be hard to believe but that fic (Unsuspicious title, don't ask why it's called that I have no explanations) is really the absolute first thing I wrote that counts as a fanfic. I didn't write about other people's fictional characters before that. I didn't really write much outside of school at all, not sure how I lived my life tbh...

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

I answered earlier that I want to write a horse rider au at some point, but what I'd also like is to write a real enemies to lovers fic. Like, actual enemies. But it might be too angsty, so who knows if I'll ever make it lol.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Aah you guys really want that commentary don't you... maybe one day I'll release a version of tswm with director's commentary for the whole thing hahahahaha (jk I'd never have time to do that)

But alright, I'm gonna take the opportunity to comment on another scene in tswm that I definitely this deserves it, it's the reunion scene between Naruto and Sasuke in chapter 49! I hesitated to pick this one bc it's so long and emotional, and also I don't want to add any accidental spoilers... but oh well. Here we go!

[My comments will be in bold text, this starts almost at the beginning of the chapter, right when Sasuke meets Naruto in Kaguya's place.]

He reached out with a hand, the bright light reflecting in the half-moon in his palm. It glowed, and just like that, his hand wrapped around another’s.

Naruto.

He sucked in a breath, lungs desperate for air. Naruto stood before him, chest heaving, hand clutching Sasuke’s so hard he feared it might break.

Their shared beat rang loud in his ears, eyes wide as they drank each other in. The darkness had given way to white, fuzzy light, their bodies floating, suspended in air.

“Sasuke,” Naruto whispered, as if afraid to drown out the sound of their connection.

Honestly, I tried my best to make it as painful as possible. That's all I wanted lol. At first I had no idea how to write this scene, but then I just got a feeling and tried to write it in words.

There was no hiding in this place. It was similar to that strange place that seemed to exist between them when they fought, blows connecting, hearts open. Between one breath and the next, it would be gone, their shared hearts lingering long after.

Nothing more poetic than that special place Kishimoto created for them when they exchange blows... extremely gay.

Here, there was only the two of them, the heat of their bodies as Naruto reached for his face.

“Am I dreaming?” Naruto wondered, fingers stroking along Sasuke’s cheekbone. “You look so real…”

They sank down, slowly, until their feet touched solid white. He shivered, the tips of Naruto’s fingers touching his chin, his mouth.

“It could be a dream,” Sasuke said quietly, exhaling as Naruto came closer.

“I can feel your heart,” Naruto murmured, his forehead coming to rest against Sasuke’s temple. “I missed you so much.”

Images flashed before Sasuke’s eyes, impressions of the world from Naruto’s perspective. Menma as the kyuubi. Kakashi, entering through a window. Iruka, hand gentle as he reached over the table.

Sakura, pain drawing her face tight. A mountain of paperwork. Snippets of conversation. The overwhelming pain of loneliness, like walls closing in on him.

He puzzled together enough pieces to make sense of the days since they separated.

Must be convenient to just read each other's minds... I should stop making fun of my own writing. But anyway, I felt very clever when I realized I could skip explanations between them and just let them see each other's memories of the past few days. I think it fits that they could see it through the other person's eyes, all the emotions too. Especially how painful it was for Naruto and how much he was trying to keep it together in front of his friends, and still failing. It gives Sasuke a better understanding of what would have happened if he'd decided to leave after one year passed (and I'm still bitter at Kishimoto for doing that in canon.)

“Naruto,” he sighed, lifting a hand to sift through soft strands of hair, closing his eyes as Naruto pressed into him.

Hearts bared, he felt Naruto’s desperate longing as his own. It mirrored his own pain, the aching emptiness filling his chest. Little by little, the cold was pushed away by warmth, Naruto’s mouth touching his cheek, his jaw, his throat. It burned against his skin, each point of contact erupting into tendrils of heat that seeped into his body.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Naruto confessed, lips shaping the words onto Sasuke’s throat. “I couldn’t go back to you, I-“

Sasuke turned his head, capturing his mouth. The words were lost between their lips, swallowed by the sudden surge of need. Naruto’s arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place. A fever caught him, leaving him dizzy and faint. He felt emotions between them like a physical caress, like they swirled in and out of their bodies, like a strong wind playing with fallen leaves.

Pain. Longing. Fear.

Happiness. Comfort. Love.

Naruto kissed him like he’d die if they stopped. He might, for all Sasuke knew.

Don't mind me, I was just crying buckets as I wrote this.

Their hands were still clasped tight, their palms pressed together, keeping their marks in contact. Teeth dug into his lower lip, but he could barely feel the pain over the onslaught of emotion. It was overwhelming, to share Naruto’s heart so fully. Was this how Naruto had felt, when Sasuke had touched him by accident? When Sasuke had shared too much of himself, and Naruto had been unable to give him the same in return.

I think it actually wasn't as overwhelming for Naruto when Sasuke accidentally touched him. This place that Kaguya controls just amplifies things a lot.

No such restraints now.

Their souls were on fire, like chakra flames billowing around their bodies. It was too much to make sense of, and yet it felt as if they’d always been this close, always been one and the same. Naruto fit inside him like a key, like Sasuke was now unlocked, his body no longer keeping him prisoner.

“Naruto,” he breathed out, over and over again, every nerve ending alight as they held each other.

I was listening to this song called Heat Up by Giant Rooks as I wrote this (that's where the chapter title comes from and honestly the lyrics are just *chef's kiss*) and I really tried to use as much metaphor as I could, idk if that makes it sound boring haha but for once I was definitely thinking very hard about every single sentence. And I tried to make it as "alive" as I could, so you'd feel it rather than have it described to you.

An eternity later they calmed down, mouths sliding lazily over each other, heartbeats finally finding their shared rhythm. Their foreheads pressed together, Sasuke’s eyes fluttering open to meet deep blue, their usual strength faded into self-doubt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his fingers through Naruto’s hair, thumb tracing the shell of his ear. “Don’t hide from me, not here.”

Aww look at Sasuke, so in tune with his emotions. He really is an all or nothing kind of guy. If they already share everything in this place, there's no point in having secrets. Besides, his worst fear is Naruto losing confidence because of something he said or did.

Naruto let out a sharp breath, lifting their clasped hands between their chests.

“I missed you,” he said again, eyes closing in pain. “I’m so happy you’ve been okay.”

So much pain. Sasuke struggled to make sense of it, so much of it reflected inwards, towards Naruto himself. He could understand the longing, the absence of him like a gaping hole. It mirrored his own pain, pain he’d locked inside his heart within a steel cage. It flowed freely now, wrapping around Naruto’s in recognition.

But the rest… Naruto let out a sob, and yet he was smiling. Sasuke pressed another kiss to his lips, unsure of what to say.

I know Naruto did that whole waterfall thing where he embraced his evil side and totally let go of all his negative energy... But you can't tell me he's 100% okay and only happy and never feels pain. When will Konoha start offering therapy... Jokes aside, at this moment in time Naruto is so conflicted. The whole time he's been worried about Sasuke leaving him, and telling himself that Sasuke would be happier in the other dimension, and that logically he should let Sasuke stay, but he absolutely doesn't want Sasuke to leave him. It's the most selfish thing he's ever felt, I think, this need to have Sasuke by his side. And he's got so much on his shoulders, just piling up, everyone relying on him to somehow magically fix the world. And he's afraid of failing, of acknowledging to himself that there are parts of him that aren't ready to shoulder this burden, that he's still hurting, that there's still a part of him that could have become like Menma. He's supposed to be completely selfless but he isn't, and he thinks of that as a character flaw, a personal failure. And that's kind of where his resolution to not become hokage comes from. Because he doesn't think he can remove this selfish parts of him, and so maybe he should embrace them instead.

“Sasuke, it’s so strange…” Naruto started, his words slow, carefully chosen. “You understand Charasuke so well, but Menma… I can’t accept him. And now I realize, he shows the ugliest parts of me. The parts that I’m afraid of.”

They both leaned back a little, to see each other’s faces. Light played over Naruto’s features, blurring him at the edges. Sasuke cupped his cheek, tilting his chin up so that their eyes met. Now that he knew what to look for, he could feel Naruto’s fear.

“It’s always there,” Naruto confessed, raw honesty in his voice. “The fear of losing you. The fear of not being strong enough. The fear of becoming hokage, and failing.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to say something, to reassure him, but Naruto shook his head quickly.

Sasuke, on the other hand, he never held himself up to be a good person. He's well aware that he has weaknesses, that he's putting up walls so he won't have to deal with emotions and stuff. But he does believe (a bit blindly) in Naruto, I think. Even though he thinks Naruto won't succeed, it's not because of anything that Naruto does or fails to do. He thinks it's because the world won't follow him, that Konoha isn't capable of change. But he never thought that Naruto would actually give up or have these kinds of doubts.

“Let me say this. I didn’t understand it at first. Menma always rubbed me the wrong way. I know you don’t like him either, but for me… It’s like looking at myself and knowing I gave up.”

He drew in a deep breath, his fingers trembling around Sasuke’s.

“And now, here, I can’t avoid that fear. Because all of it… all of it is for you, Sasuke.” He swallowed, and through the fear, Sasuke saw his determination. “You asked me, if there’s any room in my head for anyone but you. And there isn’t.”

Naruto's brain is 99% Sasuke and 1% ramen, that's just fact. That aside, this might be one of my favorite quotes in the fic.

Frowning, Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek to stay silent. Naruto was working up to something, he could tell, and part of him couldn’t help but think it would end the two of them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Naruto said, drawing the pad of his thumb over Sasuke’s eyebrow, the touch equal parts reassuring and painful. “I can hear your thoughts, you know. Do you really believe that I would choose anything else over you?”

A lie caught on Sasuke’s tongue. He didn’t want to believe it, but what place did he have by Naruto’s side? How could he be all that Naruto wanted him, needed him, to be? How could he be someone that others would accept walking by his side?

Oh, Sasuke. Always so ready for Naruto to cast him aside. He doesn't want to stand in the way of Naruto's dreams *wipes tear*

“I don’t believe that you would want to,” he replied, eventually. “But maybe you should.”

They stood for a long time, looking at each other. Sasuke felt torn in two directions. He wanted to tell Naruto to never leave him. He wanted to say that he’d accept anything. That he’d remove himself from Naruto’s presence to make the choice for him. That he couldn’t, wouldn’t, stand between Naruto and his dreams.

That he’d known, all along, that the other dimension was only a dream. An impossibility. That he accepted this, and wouldn’t resent Naruto for choosing the village over him.

I think the difference between Naruto and Sasuke here, is that even though they both think the other should maybe leave them for better things, Naruto is much less ready to actually give Sasuke up. Sasuke is more of the martyr type lol.

“You deserve me,” Naruto said, voice dark with conviction. “Don’t you dare think otherwise. Don’t you understand? If you saw what I’ve been doing the past days…”

Naruto lifted their joined hands higher, shifted his grip until he held Sasuke’s palm open in front of himself.

“I thought only of you. I cared only about you. What good is the village to me, if you’re not there?”

His heart felt too heavy in his chest. Naruto’s words rang through his ears, the implication behind them ensnaring his heart until Naruto held it in his hand, too.

“I don’t want any of it, if you’re not with me.”

Sasuke lowered his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to give in. He’d already given so much, and although he knew that Naruto would have this, too, it was too much in this moment.

“Sasuke… When are you going to recognize that you’re a good person? That even if our relationship hadn’t changed like this, I’d still need you beside me?”

I wanted to write this part so badly... To make Naruto tell Sasuke that he's a good person. That Naruto thinks so, at least. It's one of the first things I thought of for this scene. Not that Sasuke agrees haha.

“Me, a good person?” Sasuke raised his eyebrows, meeting Naruto’s gaze again. He recognized the stubborn glint in Naruto’s eyes, and sighed. “Even if that was true, you’re smart enough to know it’s not enough.”

Slowly, Naruto pulled his hand closer, his grip turning gentle. Sasuke caught himself holding his breath, as Naruto’s lips connected with the mark on his palm.

“You still don’t understand,” Naruto murmured, the movement of his lips tickling Sasuke’s skin. “The past few days, what have you been doing? Caring for the children, when I wasn’t there to do it. Putting Charasuke before yourself, comforting him in the ways he needed you to. Holding yourself together. Trusting me to come back.”

This is where we acknowledge exactly how much Sasuke has changed. Naruto spent the days apart thinking only of Sasuke, even to the point where he was neglecting his friends and duties. Sasuke, on the other hand, stepped up to fill the role he thought Naruto left behind, hiding his pain behind helping others. Ultimately trusting Naruto to hold his promise to come back. Also, I just want them to be soft with each other T_T

Staring at him, Sasuke’s breath caught in his chest at the swell of pride Naruto felt for him. Was it true, that he had changed so much? In Naruto’s eyes, he had. It was startling, to realize how Naruto thought of him. But Naruto had changed too, he thought. They had grown closer, in a way he didn’t think they could have in their own Konoha.

“I think Charasuke is a bit like you,” Sasuke said, lips twitching upwards at Naruto’s affronted look. “He needs physical comfort. I don’t mind giving it to you, and I guess I don’t mind giving it to him either. You both tend to do whatever you feel like, anyway.”

“You used to mind.” Naruto looked serious, reaching out to touch Sasuke’s mouth as if to prove his point. “Suddenly, you didn’t.”

The smile slipped from Sasuke’s lips. Naruto was right. A few weeks ago, he did push Charasuke out of the window. To be fair, Charasuke hadn’t liked him much back then, either, and the circumstances had been very different. He did understand him better now. If Menma represented Naruto’s fears, Charasuke represented everything Sasuke wanted in life. But Charasuke didn’t have Naruto, didn’t have Menma with him either, and maybe that was why Sasuke wanted to be there for him. His connection with Naruto was precious to him, had kept him going, had kept him questioning himself even in his worst moments of darkness. Had given him a reason not to give up on a life that wasn’t filled with pain and hatred.

Naruto made it worth it to change. Was he hoping to help Charasuke change, too?

Spoiler alert... yes you were, Sas.

Perhaps Kaguya had something to do with it, but maybe, even without her influence, he would have reached this point anyway if given enough time. Time they didn’t have back home. It surprised him to realize that Naruto had thought of this already. That he felt selfish for wanting Sasuke to go back with him, when he knew it would be painful.

“You minded when I touched you, too,” Naruto added, as a reminder that they were talking about the two of them.

“I didn’t.” It was easy to confess. “I couldn’t allow myself to accept it, but I never minded. And now…”

Even if Naruto could read most of his thoughts in this space, it was difficult to say the words.

“I was afraid to have more of you. I still am. Because I know they’ll never accept it.”

Sasuke vs homophobia :( Can't really kill that with a sword. Sasuke was definitely in love with him before they went to the RTN dimension, he'd just buried it so deep that he had no idea it was there or what it was. If you separate love from attraction it's not really gay, is it? (It is)

Naruto kissed him again, desperately. There were so many thoughts swirling between them, a mess of images and emotions overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of losing each other.

Naruto’s guilt, for not being able to reach Menma like Sasuke reached Charasuke. Their worry for each other. The frustration of being forced to wait. Sasuke’s slow realization of how much Naruto meant to him. How much his family meant to him, even a different version of them.

“I can’t be without you again,” Naruto said, swallowing thickly. “There’s so much I want to say and I don’t know how.”

“I’m here,” Sasuke promised. “Any way you want me to be.”

Even though it hurt, knowing the struggle that lay ahead of them, how Naruto had struggled only the past few days.

He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but Naruto’s hands holding his face between them made him open them again. His expression was serious, almost solemn.

“I think you’d be happier if you stayed there,” Naruto whispered, searching his eyes. “You can’t deny it. I know they’d take care of you, and I can tell that your bond with your family is important to you. In a different way than ours, but still. I’d forgive you, if you chose them.”

Stop sacrificing yourself, Naruto. I don't like it.

“How could you say that?” Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s wrists, glaring at him. “Even after everything you said about how you can’t be without me, how you’d never choose anything over me, and you still think I would leave you? Even when you can feel my heart, you think I won’t choose you no matter what?”

Sasuke calling him out, as he should.

He knocked their foreheads together, tightening his grip.

“You think I’d choose happiness over you?”

How could he be happy, if Naruto wasn’t there with him? It wasn’t even an option. He cared about Charasuke, that was true. And the other version of Itachi, of Shisui, his family… Even the Sakura of that world. But how could they compare? Losing Charasuke would hurt, but it wouldn’t rip his soul apart. Staying with them would be a life, but it wouldn’t be living. How could Naruto think of himself as selfish, and still be so incredibly selfless when it came to Sasuke? What was he supposed to do, to make Naruto trust him once and for all?

“If I deserve you, why wouldn’t you deserve me in turn?”

Naruto didn’t have an answer to that. Sasuke hadn’t expected him to, and he felt him struggle with the concept. Naruto’s hero complex wasn’t doing either of them any good.

Like, I personally don't like the concept of anyone deserving love or not deserving it. Love is something you give, freely, regardless of how society values the other person. The love you give isn't less worth depending on the person receiving it. But I think the both of them are so traumatized that they need to make peace with this concept. They kind of need to be told - yes, you do deserve love, and I will give it to you. Naruto's hero complex is like... we don't have time to unpack all of that.

“You want to do this the hard way?” Sasuke continued, tone sharp. “I’ll do it with you. I don’t think you’ll succeed but I’ll do it.”

He gathered up all his resolve, all his conviction, pushed aside his own reservations.

“Saying you’ll forgive me… that’s a lie. You wouldn’t. You never would. And I wouldn’t want you to, anyway. If you wanted me by your side and I couldn’t do it, you’d be right to hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“Then I’d hate myself.”

Bearing each other's burdens and all that...

Naruto made a face, as if to disagree, but Sasuke felt him smile despite the topic of their conversation.

“What kind of role reversal is this,” he muttered, pressing his thumbs into Sasuke’s cheeks childishly. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing about it.”

“Because you love me.”

They stared at each other. Naruto’s eyes widened in shock, but Sasuke held his ground. What was the point in pretending anything else? It all made sense like this, and perhaps deep down Sasuke had always suspected it, even before he returned to Konoha.

“Y-you can’t just say it out loud!” Naruto spluttered, slapping his hands onto his own face instead, hiding behind them with a groan. “Stop being so smug about it!”

Me, while I wrote this: Yeah, you can't just say that out loud! The pain of being perceived. I am suffering with Naruto.

“I won the argument, didn’t I?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

Feeling lighter, Sasuke wrapped his arms around Naruto, leaning his cheek against the top of his head, Naruto burying his nose in his neck. He’d deny it when they were back in reality, but he could feel that Naruto wanted the body contact, and he was unable to resist it. It didn’t take long for Naruto to calm down, releasing a huff into Sasuke’s neck.

“Maybe we can just stay in this place forever,” he said, sneaking his arms around Sasuke’s back.

“You’d miss ramen too much.”

If an emotional scene doesn't end with a joke, what are you even doing with your life. But writing them hug was like, releasing so many endorphins. I'm weak to it.

It was strange, to talk and immediately feel every thought behind the words, every emotion on full display. Naruto’s amusement radiated off him, and it was his turn to feel a little smug as he concentrated on everything that Sasuke felt for him.

When Naruto started imagining long days spent in bed, Sasuke rolled his eyes and decided they’d been emotional enough for the time being.

Sasuke like, I can accept the lovey-dovey stuff, but I draw a thick line in front of the bedroom door. He's got some work left to do lol.

Idk if any of this made any sense but... there you have it!

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clonesandmoans · 4 years

Note

Wrecker test Jedi like Mr Incredible yeet Elastigirl

i wanna thank both of y’all for sending these in bc they gave me the first piece of clone inspo i’ve had in weeks and i really needed that. hopefully y’all won’t mind that this is more soft than comedic, maybe the 1k word count on this bad boy will make up for it. if it’s well-received, i might extend it on my personal? idk tho. but anywho, enjoy this fluff pile -jj

neither of you really intended for your relationship to go beyond what it was, what it always had been since you were folded into the ranks of the bad batch. the first instinct was to keep the clones at arm’s length, maintaining just enough friendliness to warrant trust on the battlefield but nothing more. growing attached wasn’t going to do anyone any good if you went and died on each other, but the longer you were both alive and around the other the harder it became to stomach it.

crosshair was far easier to be around than most would usually think. his low standards for others leave plenty of room for him to be pleasantly surprised when things go alright, so the occasional happier lilt in his voice is genuine and you know it is.

wrecker, though? despite the fact he let himself be read like a holonovel, it was like attempting to read a language you didn’t know. you had no idea how to talk to someone that was so open and honest, utterly devoid of any motives other than what he tells you. it was always “this means that” and “up means down” because not many people would trust a jedi so openly with their true feelings so brazenly.

but wrecker did. the more time spent with the enthusiastic animal loving pyro had him pouring his soul out to you right on the floor of the marauder. it was getting hard to not give him something back because you feared that he gave too much that he’d soon have nothing left.

so you tried to push away everything you’d been taught since the crèche about emotions and vulnerability and started to give pieces of yourself to wrecker and the guys. it worked wonders on missions, made you even more efficient because there was never a doubt whether someone would do what they said they would, be where they said they would be.

this newfound trust — along with what had turned out to be a trap — prompted the first throwing. the five of you were surrounded and almost everyone wounded in some form or another & escaping to higher ground meant life or death. you figured the plan would be for you to use the force and move them before bringing yourself to safety, but wrecker had other ideas.

once hunter’s mapped out an escape route, wrecker snatches tech by his back plates and throws as hard as he can. you’d never seen this display of strength and are absolutely gobsmacked, but you have the sense to use the force to push him a little farther and soften the landing. he does the same for hunter and crosshair and soon it’s just you and him left.

soon he’s right beside you and starting to grab you by the modified armor you wore painted in the same slate grey as the boys, but you moved from his reach the moment you felt him come towards you.

“let me throw you! you need to get with the others!”

“no! you won’t have a way to get to us!”

“i’ve got you for that, don’t i?”

there was something in his force signature, the trust and adoration, and something you didn’t have the experience to identify rolling into you like the waves of kamino against tipoca city. it told you that he knew with every fiber of himself that you were gonna get him out of there once you were safely on the ridge.

when he goes to grab you again you shake your head, pointing to a small area of respite from the droid’s blaster fire. you’re there in seconds and you can tell he’s wondering what you’re about to do but isn’t questioning whatever you’re thinking of. your lightsaber is quickly put away as your hands reach for his, giving them a soft squeeze before moving them together. he gets the hint to lock his fingers and he realizes how exactly he’s going to launch you.

the blaster fire was now centered on your little respite and it would only be minutes before they had you on the ground before them if you didn’t get out now. “on the count of three!” he nods quickly. “one, two, THREE!”

he put most of his strength behind that launch and you felt like you were flying. you turned your body towards him, back to your destination, and wrapped the force around wrecker, bringing him into the air with you.

he didn’t struggle against the hold you had on him, seeming to take comfort in the presence instead of being worried like you imagined he’d be with his discomfort for high places. oddly enough, he seemed to enjoy it, especially after you brought him even to you with a wide grin.

later, when asked about this moment, soaring through the air with his jedi while escaping from a seppie ambush, he’ll say that the only reason he wasn’t afraid of falling was because he knew you would catch him. he could feel your presence around him the entire time and nothing in him doubted that he was safe with you.

your recounting of the events that took place on that backwater planet have you reminiscent of the way he threw you, how you felt so free when soaring towards the rendezvous. it was nothing you’d felt before, nothing you thought you’d feel again until the next inevitable launching.

but then you’re back to the marauder and he collects you into his arms, holding you there as if you would be snatched away if he didn’t barricade you between them. he sinks to his knees with you and lets everything he’s feeling right then be known — the fear of losing you to the swarm in those final moments, the elation of feeling your force presence cocooning him like a soft blanket because that meant he had succeeded in protecting you, what he now told you was love with no words to be found.

and for the first time, you open yourself up the same as he did for you. showing yourself to someone else didn’t hurt the way your master had insisted it would. to you, it felt as if you were making a home in the arms of this clone, this man, this hero. if given the choice, you swear that you’d choose those arms over any temple.

#jj #vodka aunt #soft sunday #this is the most i’ve been inspired in weeks #thank you for this #wrecker #the bad batch #clone force 99 #my heart just puked all over the post #but in the good way

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