#incredibly unnecessary and painful to watch
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btw skipping triggering scenes in your favourite shows/movies doesn’t make you less of a fan. there are still scenes in multiple of my favourite shows that i cannot/have never watched, but i still love those shows with all of my heart.
whether it triggers past experiences and trauma, your fears, your sensory issues, your migraines, or it just gives you really bad second hand embarrassment. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO SKIPS SCENES IN YOUR FAVOURITE MEDIA
#i feel incredibly passionate about this#i’m building a note in my phone of all the time stamps of the scenes i skip#this is a direct call out of all initiation scenes#fuck those guys#incredibly unnecessary and painful to watch#i’m looking at you#young royals#i have never watched that scene bc i know what happens#so why would i watch it#other media with scenes i usually skip include;#control z#everything everywhere all at once#andi mack#shameless#degrassi#pretty little liars#doctor who#the it crowd#stranger things#and probably more#daisy originals#community#favourites#the 100
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Heartstopper is different because it takes pleasure seriously
Since I watched Heartstopper, I've been trying to figure out what about it made it feel so different from other stories similar to it. When you just describe the plot of it, it sounds like something straight (har har) out of Glee or Sex Education or Elite or SKAM or Skins or Degrassi, or...you get my point.
But it felt so different to me, and I realized yesterday what it was. Hearstopper takes the pleasures of queer romance and eroticism as seriously as it takes the pains of it. By which I mean, it gives an incredible amount of screen time to the excitement of it, the thrill of it, the visceral good feelings of it. Pleasure drives Heartstopper, in a way that is still incredibly unusual in mainstream queer media.
In most other stories like this, the pain and the angst and the ambivalence and the negative social ramifications of the premise take up like 90-95% of the screen time. The pleasure aspect typically exists as minimally as possible to catalyze all the negative or difficult parts that are the 'real' story. And while Heartstopper doesn't shy away from those things, it gives a roughly equal amount of narrative and screen time to the two leads getting a lot of pleasure out of their relationship, too. The amount of time the show invests in showing Nick and Charlie enjoying each other romantically -- throughout the story, not just at the very end -- is just absolutely decadent (and I mean that 100% positively).
The first kiss is a perfect example. In any other TV version of this story, the boys would have kissed that first time for less than 2 seconds, and then IMMEDIATELY been interrupted by the other boys. Instead, Heartstopper lets them kiss once, take a breath, and then have a second, very extended kiss enhanced by animated embellishments designed to emphasize just how incredibly enjoyable this is for them...before finally disrupting it again with Plot™.
And the amazing thing is, from a pure narrative standpoint, you don't need the second kiss. It's completely unnecessary to the plot. You could completely eliminate it and the plot would hold together exactly the same. The second kiss is there exclusively to emphasize the intense pleasure of this experience for them. That's all it does.
Heartstopper is serious about foregrounding pleasure, and how important pleasure is in all of this. Which frankly, is a thing you usually only ever see in romance novels and fanfic.
***
One of the reasons I was hesitant to watch this show initially is because I have limited tolerance for coming out stories that are so focused on the unappealing parts of the experience. It's not that those things don't MATTER. But there is such a cultural allergy to making the pleasures of the experience a serious focus, particularly (yes I'm going to say it) the sexual pleasures of it.
Hearstopper, blissfully, refuses to shy away from pleasure, and from making it important.
It's not just that my tolerance for queer pain in media is limited (although admittedly that's true). I also grow so weary of popular culture treating queerness as mostly a political identity upon which we simply moralize about tolerance, and engage in self congratulatory yarns about ~being yourself~ and loving yourself. It's not that I think any of those things is BAD. But a) I've seen that story many times before and b) there's an ENORMOUS piece of this experience that we're still mostly skirting around the edges of because we're still very chickenshit about it, to be perfectly frank.
We, as a culture, are still scared as fuck to really say, very bluntly: queerness feels fucking good.
In the midst of this, Heartstopper does something wondrous. It says to the audience, in no uncertain terms: Queerness feels fucking good...so, let's spend some time actually talking about THAT for a while.
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Zombie Lover[Wednesday Addams x zombie! GN! Reader]
Summary: Wednesday learns something interesting about you.
Warnings: Mentions of bodily harm. More on the ridiculous side but still.
Word Count: 700 words
************************************************************************
“Hey, how ‘s it going?”
“You have a knife in your shoulder.”
“Yes.”
“You have my knife in your shoulder.”
“That is correct.”
“Why?”
“Well I was watching a cool action sequence and it had some knife fighting. I wanted to try it but I don’t own any knives. But I knew you did. One thing led to another and… well.”
“Give it back…”
“Ok.”
You reached up and snagged the knife out of your left shoulder. Ignoring the burning pain and the blood pouring out of the wound, you turned to give it back to Wednesday but thought again.
“Hey… do you mind giving me a second to—“
“I can wipe the blood off myself later. Don’t you think that there’s a more pressing issue to deal with first?”
“Like what?”
“You are bleeding you idiot.”
“I noticed.”
“…you’ll die if you bleed out, you ignoramus.”
“I won’t die.” You replied while waving Wednesday off without a care in the world,”I have an incredible healing factor with an abnormally high pain tolerance to match. For example.”
You picked a conveniently placed ax off of a nearby desk.
“My ax.” Wednesday supplied
“I will be using your ax for this demonstration.”
“Give it b-”
“Observe.”
“What are you–!”
“Observe. HYAH!!”
With an unnecessary battle cry, you lopped off your own left hand with a swipe, sending your hand and blood flying across the room. Wednesday stood frozen in shock at your insane act. Before she could even begin to start yelling at you for doing something so outrageous, the door to her dorm opened and Enid walked in.
“Hey, why is Thing just slumped on the floor bleeding?!”
Thing crawled out from Enid’s drawer with lotion in tow at the sound of his name. Enid looked between both disembodied hands and then finally turned towards you and Wednesday. She took one look at Wednesday's shell shocked face and towards you with a missing hand and bloody ax and nearly lost her mind.
“Wait before you get mad know that it’ll grow back in-”
*POP*
“Oh there it goes.” your hand grew back in a spray of blood and wet pop to accompany it.
*THUD*
Enid could only take so much.
“Well that could’ve gone a bit better.”
Wednesday turn towards you and just stared with her usual brand of utter disdain
********
“No, I've never seen how far my regeneration could go. I’m curious but not that curious.”
You were answering Wednesday’s questions of your newly discovered (by her) abilities as you and her cleaned up the bloody mess you left on the floor. Enid was still unconscious on her bed with Thing tending to her.
“Would you…like help discovering the extent of your abilities?”
“No…I’d imagine that would hurt quite a bit.” You raised an eyebrow at the girl's seemingly eager tone.
“We could start off slow. See if you leave any scars from cuts before we jump back to dismemberment.”
“Why'd you already have a game plan? Shouldn’t you be more… I don’t know, weary?”
“On the contrary, Y/n. Your new revelation has left me quite excited I must admit. I suggest you take me up on my offer. After all, it is important to your growth to test your own limits.”
“This sounds like we’re moving a bit too fast in a direction I’m not too sure I wanna go yet chief.”
“I’ll be gentle.” Wednesday promised
“Ayo, pause.” you recoiled at her choice of words.
“Pause what?” she looked just a touch confused at your reaction.
“Just…nevermind.” You didn’t want to have to be the one to explain Wednesday’s accidental bedroom talk to her.
******
“Ok my safe word is “AYO” just so you know.”
In the end you ended up agreeing to Wednesday’s offer. Now you find yourself strapped to a chair with a tarp placed under you. You and Wednesday were in the Hummer’s shed and Eugene was given orders not to disturb the two of you.
“Also we can just go bury the limbs I end up losing in the forest or you can put them all in jars filled with suspicious viscous liquid…whichever tickles you more. I regrow everything back pretty fast anyways.”
“After my own heart are you?” Wednesday smirked as she snapped rubber gloves onto her hands while standing in front of various sharp pointy torture tools.
“Well, I gotta say. Craziest first date ever. Not even close.”
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A/N: And that's that! I'm not dead hurray! Had to take time off because of life but now I'm back. Leave a like and reblog and comment what you guys think. I'll see you when I see you!
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#wednesday x you#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x y/n#vada cavell#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter
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Hello sera! May I please ask enemies to lovers with bucky please? I accept oneshots and series! Thank you!🫶🏻🤗
Enemies to Lovers
masterlist | req masterlist
here are some angsty (& hot) enemies to lovers 😏
* = contains smut
ONESHOT
Elevate Thy Hate by @babyboibucky
Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.
I’m With You by @youlightmeupfinn
You and Bucky are enemies, but share a common past. However, Bucky realizes he's in love with you upon watching the Winter Soldier in you unleash, resulting in him having to hurt you.
*we can’t stop, we’re enemies by @sinner-as-saint
After the events of the last battle against Thanos, you teamed up with Sam and Bucky to carry on your superhero duties. You got along with Sam just fine, he was a really good friend to you. Bucky however, was not. From constant banters, to unnecessary hand-to-hand combat, to purposely getting each other in trouble during risky missions, to being the main cause of Sam’s migraines; it was safe to say that you and Bucky considered yourselves to be each other’s nemesis. Although that soon changes when, courtesy of your silly banters, a certain mission goes slightly wrong - one which involves strong chemicals which, unbeknownst to you, were designed to mess with the brain and hormones, thus encouraging the need to breed and procreate amongst all those who inhale it...
pansies, pain, and other things about bucky by @bucky-bucket-barnes
You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.
bucky bitchass barnes to the rescue by @/bucky-bucket-barnes
In an attempt to escape from hectic life as an Avenger, you decided to go out on a date. Unfortunately, you got stood up. While Bucky hates you, he hates seeing you embarrassed more and decides to fill in for your M.I.A. date.
*There’s Always One by @summerofsnowflakes
Every wedding has at least one couple that can't seem to keep their hands to themselves and with Tony's wedding a mere 18 hours away, Sam sets up a wager to see which unfortunate couple will fall into the trap.
the one where the protein shake plays matchmaker by @mediocre-daydreams
you and bucky barnes can find any reason to hate each other. new york can find any reason to believe you two are together. when steve asks you to do a co-interview with bucky, the two of you are barraged by dating rumors that you vehemently deny and it breaks bucky’s heart. do you really find the thought of being with bucky so revolting?
*until you ruined it by @gummydummy19
God you fucking hated him. You LOATHED him. Every single thing he did pissed you off.
*I Know Places by @lanadelreyscokewhor3
You hate Barnes, and Barnes hates you. Yet when you get injured on a mission, the lines of love and loathing are crossed... and the single bed Tony has at the safe house ends up being a benefit after all.
The Thin Line by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine
Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.
try to relax by @grippingbeskar
locked in a room with the winter soldier seems like the worst situation in the world. luckily, you bought a little treat to pass the time.
SERIES
*Stuk Wit U by @slyyywriting
You and Bucky don’t get along. Your fights have become too destructive so Tony and Steve decide that enough is enough.
*Snow by @delaber
Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.
Life As We Know It by @whitestarbucky
You had never disliked a person more than Bucky Barnes. But as the universe would have it, you were stuck with him. Under the same roof now after the tragic passing of your two best friends, their child was yours to take care of. With a complicated past plus raising a toddler, you both find yourselves needing to confront a few things before it tears the only family Sarah Rogers has left, apart.
have i made you uncomfortable? by @marveliskindacool
you and Bucky hate each other. or do you?
A Half-Naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas by @urimaginespimp
you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you.
i hate you but by @buckybarnesthehotshot
bucky and y/n can’t stand each other, but y/n needs help with her sister’s kids.
*Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella
Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.
.
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes series#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes enemies to lovers#bucky barnes modern au#bucky barnes x avenger!reader
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What trauma did Ayato go thru in LE? I haven’t read it and I don’t mind a spoiler
// LE is a continuation of DF and sometimes you’ll get flashbacks from it. THIS is DF Ayato:
Ayato gained the powers he did not want, and when Richter appeared, there was a massive misunderstanding that could have been avoided 1) if his brothers had allowed him to express his own point of view, or 2) if Yui had defended him instead of watching them mock Ayato, given that she knew the reason for his behavior, as I mentioned in this post.
All ganged up against him and pulled the reactive abuse card, which made him leash out and accidentally hurt some of them. And, if that wasn’t enough, Ruki and Reiji were plotting his downfall, involving the Viboras and the Church too, so as to assassinate Ayato and get his powers, for the reason that they were —envious—. Oh, and we also have Kino, who’s the antagonist and joined them. Yui, Kou, Yuma and Azusa took Ayato’s side though, but Yui said and did so many dumb things that only added more unnecessary drama. Ayato wanted to apologize to his brothers and they told him “k y s”, yet he accepted to do so. In the good ending, time got rewinded and nobody remembered anything, not even Yui, therefore Ayato had to live with the thought that the people he tried to protect and avenge were the same people who led to his death.
Nevertheless, that’s not all. What makes the whole route so traumatic was the fact that it’s the only DL route that tries to *directly* justify abuse. In the first games, the Diaboys’ actions were definitely depicted negatively or just for fanservice, but here all the pain was just to “make him grow”. A lot of East-Asian fans found this incredibly disgusting (this post), since you can’t force someone’s growth through trauma. It’s obvious that Ayato developed PTSD, and portraying this as something beneficial for the character is just so gross, especially since he was nice and helpful in other routes. It gave the same vibes as “Bullying is good because it helps you become a stronger and braver person!”
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Hello I hope your having a great day/night but I was wondering if you could do headcannons for Sigma and Dazai with an s/o with social anxiety disorder (like for me I get chest pains and nausea in social situations I’m nervous in, like being around alot of people or awkward situations and very shy to new people) thank you so much if you do end up doing this I love your writing so much btw! :D
𝖘/𝖔 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖝𝖎𝖊𝖙𝖞
content. gn!reader. social anxiety disorder, panic attacks, cuddling, hurt/comfort. not proofread.
author's note. this is my first time writing for sigma, so i hope it is not incredibly out of character!
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
He would probably initially panic himself.
You cannot tell me this man does not have his own anxiety problems (but it’s more general anxiety rather than social-specific anxiety). But at the very least, he could relate deeply to your pain.
His first initial response is to get you away from the social situation immediately (utilizing his casino manager persona). However, if he can’t get you out of the situation, he will be there for you both emotionally and physically. It’s displayed either by him holding your hand or waist and him constantly making eye contact with you to make sure you’re still okay.
If you’re at an event that you absolutely cannot leave, he’ll take you aside occasionally to a secluded corner to allow you to breathe with him. He is constantly checking up on you throughout the entire event, usually by observing your facial expressions and posture. And if someone is rude to you, that manager persona is in full force.
That man may be a complete nervous wreck (all the time), but it’s almost like the switch flips in his brain whenever someone treats you rudely. (Don’t let him touch the machine guns, though. You’ll have a lawsuit on your hands).
If the event becomes a big stressor, to the point of you having a panic attack, it doesn’t matter what obligations either of you have; you are leaving ASAP.
Once both of you arrive back at your shared suite in the casino, he will constantly question whether you’re okay.
You are absolutely having a little spa night with him – no choice. You’re gonna receive some good TLC to make sure you’re back to 100%. He’ll even order your favorite meal and desserts via room service. You won’t even have to leave the comfort of your bed.
When you head to sleep, he checks on you one last time, massaging any remaining tense muscles as he soothes you to sleep. After all, both of you are in this together.
"It's okay, love. I'm right here with you. Breathe with me, okay?"
𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
At the start of your relationship, this handsome dumbass probably dragged you into multiple social situations by accident (it’s the Osamu Dazai Effect). And honestly, he thinks it’s very cute with how shy you are.
However, once he realizes that these situations cause you actual stress, he starts to feel a bit bad for the previous experiences (this man would be thinking about each situation he had dragged you into, feeling more guilt when he remembered your expressions). He becomes a lot more watchful with the situations you both get involved in.
Don’t get me wrong, the Osamu Dazai effect will unavoidably drag you both back into another situation, but if he can prevent unnecessary stress for his baby, he will. In those inevitable situations, he makes sure to stay as physically close to you as possible (unless he absolutely can’t). For those who know him, it looks like he’s being his clingy self, but it’s all for the purpose of comforting you.
He wants to make sure you know that he’s right there with you, that he’s not gonna let anything bad happen to you.
When the other people involved in the conversation are distracted, he’ll whisper reassurances to you in hopes that it’ll calm you down.
He’ll try to leave the situation as soon as possible, sometimes walking away from the other person mid-conversation.
Also, God forbid someone was mean to you.
There is a reason this man was called the Demon Prodigy—anyone who makes his lover uncomfortable or upset is gonna have a deep problem with him. After all, the saying is that the worst misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.
Once you both get away, he’ll subtly check in on you in his typical Dazai way (which means mostly by being touchy and over-affectionate, unless you don’t like that).
However, you will receive a hug from this man.
And come on, I don’t doubt that he would be the type to give some of the best hugs when he is in a more serious mood. While he probably runs at a cooler temperature, the large jacket that he wears radiates heat. You’ll be snuggled up against him in no time.
Speaking of snuggling, if the social situation left you especially drained to the point of exhaustion, he would hands-down use it as an excuse to leave work early so that he could cuddle with you while you rest—after all, he needs to keep his baby happy and healthy :)
"Don't worry about talking, dear. I'll take care of everything."
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath
© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2023 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ
#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#gn!reader#from: anon .ᐟ#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#osamu dazai#dazai bsd#sigma bsd#sigma x reader
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202X, London, Soho, Aziraphale's bookshop
"I never noticed that one."
Crowley gives a non-committal hum, too caught up in the soft rhythm of Aziraphale's fingers carding through his hair, and pushes his face further into his soft stomach. His shirt has ridden up while he has been teetering on the edge between dreams and wakefulness, and Aziraphale has never been able to resist a patch of bare skin.
While he technically does not need to sleep, let alone nap, slow afternoons like these are a simple pleasure in themselves. Two cups of hot cocoa, his head in Aziraphale's lap while he reads one book or another, the comfort of knowing that they're safe and free in the bubble they have created. He fully intends to drift back off, his eyes fluttering shut once more, when an odd pressure on the side of his ribs catches his attention.
Twisting his head as far as it will go, he watches as Aziraphale traces a long, jagged scar running almost parallel to his spin, although several inches to the left of it. Crowley cannot feel the touch itself, there are no nerves left in the scar tissue, but he senses the gentle brush of his fingertips right next to it.
"What happened?"
He blinks up at his angel and sighs, adjusting himself; it is not a pretty story, yet he knows he won't regain his peace until Aziraphale gets his answer.
"Remember Edinburgh?"
"Of course, but I don't—oh."
The second Aziraphale realises what he is getting at, all air leaves his body, his hand stilling, and Crowley can practically taste the pity rolling off of him in waves.
"My lot don't send rude notes, angel, and doing that much good all at once, well, let's just say Beelzebub wasn't pleased."
In the silence that follows, he absently considers simply falling asleep and leaving Aziraphale with his more than shortened summary of the events that followed their night at the graveyard, but a sudden rustle of paper and fabric tells him said angel has other plans.
Now pressing both his palms against Crowley's back, Aziraphale quickly bends down to kiss his hair before asking, "Does it still hurt?"
"Aches in bad weather, but no, doesn't hurt. Stop fretting, angel, it's-"
"If you say 'fine', Crowley, I swear I will- "Yeah, yeah, I won't."
It is fine, but he swallows the end of his sentence, and allows him to send low pulses of ethereal energy into his cells, smoothing over as much of the old injury as he can. Admittedly, it does feel nice after all these decades of distant pain, although it is entirely unnecessary. Once Aziraphale is satisfied, he kisses the back of his head again and tugs down his shirt, wrapping his arms around him and ignoring his book to hold him instead.
"Do I want to know what caused it?"
Crowley hisses contently and buries his face in the warmth of his stomach.
"No, but I guess you wanna know anyway."
"If you don't mind."
Letting out his second defeated sigh of the day, he tilts his head just enough to speak.
"They do this thing where they break your wings and send you down a chute to, eh, fall, for however long they want. I refused to show 'em my wings at first, Beelzebub threatened to rip out my spine, left the scar."
It's an incredibly condensed version of events. In reality, there has been a lot of blood, screams, and torn skin, but Aziraphale is already clinging to him like the earth will swallow him whole, so he decides not to elaborate. There is nothing one can say in response to that kind of confession, and Aziraphale doesn't try. Instead, he finally continues the drag of nails along his scalp. Crowley hums and closes his eyes.
"Can I please nap now?"
"Of course, whatever you want." Aziraphale pauses, and then, because he simply always has to, continues.
"I love you, dearest."
"Love you too, angel."
#alex writes good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#injuries#hell sucks and im too tired to write proper whump so take this instead#another entry for the journal series i guess
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— Marching Far Away
tech x reader, implied echo x reader (she/her pronouns)
this is a one shot (1.1k)
warnings: heavy angst, hurt/comfort, death, involves the stages of grief. slight canon divergence. S2 E16 SPOILERS
notes: this fic is in tech’s POV, so be aware of that as you’re reading!
mando’a translations: cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart; yaim’ol: return, homecoming; usen’ye: go away (very rude); ni su’cuyi, gar kry’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum: i’m still alive, but you are dead. i remember you, so you are eternal (daily remembrance for those who have passed.)
the title is in reference to a mando’a saying, ny kyr’aduc, shi taab’echaaj’la, meaning “not gone, merely marching far away” in tribute to a dead comrade.
summary: tech watches you from afar after plan 99
“There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99.” I reached for my blaster - a weapon I’ve become most familiar with over my time as a soldier. Though I’m proficient in many weapons, my favorite is my mind - the most dangerous weapon of them all.
Wrecker groaned at my conclusion - presumably out of frustration. “Don’t you do it, Tech.”
I sighed, knowing this was the only way to ensure their survival. The odds of us all making it out in time is 24 percent - the odds of them making it out if Plan 99 is executed jumps to a staggering 76. I know what must be done, but do they?
“When have we ever followed orders.” I stated, precisely aiming my shot to sever the hinge prohibiting their escape. I watch Wrecker, Omega, and her eyes widen at my rash decision, though one that was most honorable in my culture.
The fall isn’t as… painful, as I’d anticipated. No statistic could lead me to the conclusion of how painful it’d be to fall from 200 feet up, let alone watch my comrades' reactions. The impact comes shortly after, leaving me in a less-than optimal state.
Crying; originating from sadness. A sound I’ve gotten used to over my solitary time. From my batchmates, my younger sister, and her. God, her, what I wouldn’t give to be back in my cyar’ika’s arms safely, not having to watch her suffering from afar.
The days after my passing were evidently rough for my crew, though it should not have been - I am a soldier, meant to be expendable. Though, if the roles were reversed and it’d been any one of them, my reaction would be one and the same.
In my previous research, I discovered that the first stage of grief is denial. After much observation, I see this to be correct. Between Hunter’s “I’m waiting for Tech’s yaim’ol,” and her constant whispers of this situation not being reality, this stage is confirmed. It is… painful, for me to watch as they put themselves through this unnecessary self-inflicted torture, but they must to find themselves to be happy again. This, I suppose, I am content with, as I long for them to be satisfactory and functional without me.
I’ve found that she spends much of her time alone, which is not the most optimal way to grieve. I believe she misses me, just as I miss her - an astute observation from the past two months of watching.
When Crosshair returned to my absence, I believe it affected him as well. Though he’s in the anger stage of grief. Whenever she attempts to check up on him, despite her own longing to be alone, he sends her away with “usen’ye!”. Though I wish for him not to speak to her in that tone, I comprehend that it is just part of who he is - the prodigal brother; my twin.
She’s opening up more to my brothers, which I find to be an incredible step forward. Echo has been a support system for her in my absence, which I appreciate greatly. Though I do sense some awkwardness, it’s to be expected. She does seem a bit perturbed with my decision, which I hope will curb soon. I do not wish her to see me in a negative light.
Echo has taught her the Mando’a phrase of remembrance, which she speaks daily, multiple times a day. The “ni su’cuyi, gar kry’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum Tech,” falling from her lips in almost perfected Mando’a gives me pride - she is so intelligent, even in the darkest of times. I hope I will have eternal life, if only just in her memories.
She speaks to Echo about what she could’ve done differently to prevent the loss of myself - the answer being nothing. She’s punishing herself for my decision, one that had the best overall outcome for the group - though I’m realizing how this affected them as a whole and as individuals.
“What if I was the one to restore power instead? What if I took the risk of pulling him up? What if…”
Cyar’ika, nothing could’ve changed this outcome. Our deaths are all inevitable, some more imminent than others. All we can do, as living beings, is accept that.
I have never been more enraged than I was at the sight of Hemlock giving her my goggles. All of the progress she’s made seemed to melt away just at the sight of the broken lenses - it all faltered, just as she did in Echo’s arms. Though this is an unfortunate circumstance, I am glad she’s finding much needed solace in him - she understands that she is not alone.
She rests for most of the day, forgets to eat, isolates herself. All of the progress made has refreshed to what she was before, just from one object. Though Echo tries his best, there isn’t much he can do to motivate her - he can just watch as she withers away, just like I can. In the stage of depression, we are all rendered hopeless.
At night, I find her and Omega to be in an embrace - platonic cuddling for comfort, a healthy way of recovering. Her connection with my siblings has only grown stronger, despite the setbacks along the way. Her, Echo, Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Omega were learning to live without me, and it is not upsetting. I would find comfort in knowing they can go on with their lives and find happiness.
She seems to be prospering, which gives me a sense of pride. I am proud that she has overcome my loss, and continues to thrive with the help of her support system. Things seem to be looking up for my cyar’ika, which I have never been more grateful for.
Her strained relationship with Hunter has been all but mended, little to no animosity remaining between the two. With Echo’s assistance, she is beginning to complete the puzzle of her life once more, without my pieces in it. Though the puzzle may never be completed for her again, she is learning to live without them.
All I wish is for her to be happy, which comes about with the acceptance stage of grief. She is beginning to greet this new reality with a small smile, rather than tears more aggressive than the storms on Kamino.
Three years later, I am still observing her and my siblings, but I thought that was obvious. I acknowledge that I have and will always be a large part of their lives, but it is simply thrilling seeing their adventures and new lives - not as clones, but as free people.
She has come so far since that day, and viewing her with Echo gives me faith that even in the most difficult times, one can come through.
“Ni su’cuyi, gar kry’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum Tech,” is still heard daily, and that is more than enough for me.
fin.
thank you for reading! check out my masterlist!
#the bad batch#bad batch#sw tbb#the bad batch tech#tech x reader#angst#star wars#the bad batch x reader#xena’s fics
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do u have any links to resources about the beta and alpha kids' characterizations and personalities if you have any? i am interested in writing for them and i just wanna know what makes them them iykwim
The Beta + Alpha Kids are... By no means my specialty, as everyone knows, and I personally have zero interest in writing them. That said, I'm pretty sure that most "guides" like that are written by and for writers of lighthearted, canon non-compliant roleplaying, and all the ones that I've seen... Aren't good, and are typically incredibly biased. They definitely tend to want the reader to portray the character in whatever light they see the character in, rather than... How they are in canon. For example, some lean heavily into making Dave a soft, perfect victim, Rose into a tea-drinking lesbian, Jake into a lowkey villain, et cetera.
This is about to get pretty long. It's been a while since I've had to put something under a Read-More... But here we are. Let's get going.
Content Warning: Long, Whole Lot of Rambling about the Technical Aspects of Writing.
There tends to be interjection of headcanons, unnecessary opinions, and ham-fisted attempts to make characters look better or worse than they actually are. Context is missing, sources are missing, so on. Oftentimes when looking at guides to writing characters, I wind up just questioning what comic the writer read, because it doesn't feel as if we read the same one. Their writing and critical thinking skills are often called into question as well, given the way these guides tend to approach characters as a concept.
There's often a distinct failure in being actually analytical or observant, and they tend to view characters more as People than they do... Well, Characters. Which may sound like an odd distinction to make, until you realize that when you're writing a character, you need to understand what role they're fulfilling in a narrative before you focus on who they are as a person and judging their morals. Characters aren't anything more than narrative devices. They're strictly there to drive the plot forward. Yes, since characters tend to be people, of which are often in situations, you tend to judge their morality, ethics, the way they handle their circumstances and other people with average human judgment... But at the end of the day, moral arguments and personhood matter less than what they are meant to do, what they're supposed to represent, and how they're supposed to drive the plot forward. To focus on who and how they are as People- how righteous they are, how much their morals align with yours or those of the real world- is to focus on Form over Function.
Characters are Tools.
A tool can be painful to use, or painful to watch in action, but it's still a tool. Sometimes pliers are for pulling teeth, and sometimes they're for twisting wire. You can't effectively pull teeth with a wrench, and you can't effectively hammer a nail with a screwdriver. You could, theoretically, and I'd love to watch someone try, but it's not recommended. It's ineffective. You need to know what a tool is for, how you could use it, and maybe even how you could make your usage of them surprising. A hammer is typically used for driving nails into place. Usually with the head. This doesn't mean you can't drive the nail in with its side, and it doesn't mean you can't use it to break fingers.
What this "Form over Function of a Tool" means in practice is... A lot of "guides" to writing Dave will go over the fact that he is the Ironic Cool Kid who has suffered a lot of Abuse at the hands of Bro Strider, and interject that headcanon of his character arc "being about overcoming Internalized Homophobia and/or Toxic Masculinity" (neither of these are true), but fail to mention that he is essentially a Tutorial Agent, and how his whole character hinges on how he absolutely does not want to be a Main Character.
Everything he does is grounded in the fact that he's a Tutorial Agent, and therefore an NPC. He's a regular kid with a rough home life, and wants nothing more than to keep playing his role as just a random NPC. He doesn't want to be a Main Character. He doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to be in an epic, he just wants to be Some Guy. He wants to be normal, and he wants to be able to be forgotten to the sands of time.
They focus so much on Who he is as a Person that they tend to fail to recognize What he is as a Character. It's not effective. You don't really need to worry about who they are as people. You don't need to focus on the paint job on a tool. You need to know what that tool is, and what it's being used for.
It's best to not consult guides written by other fans. It'd be best if you read through their dialogue yourself, and really dissected them and how they function... Find out what makes them tick.
Luckily, there's a blog out there that does have just about every line of dialogue in Homestuck sorted by character, so that's pretty good for ease of access. Good for you and good for me. I use it all of the time.
Here you go.
#homestuck#homestuck analysis#homestuck meta#beta kids#alpha kids#dave strider#rose lalonde#jake english#writing advice#dave.pdf#homestuck.pdf#nekro.pdf#nekro.sms
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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 8)
WARNINGS: Tywin being the largest asshole ever
Word Count: 6.5k
—————
Ever since I’d given Lord Tywin the ring, things had changed between us. And despite what one might assume, our relationship hadn’t changed for the better. In the last two weeks, Lord Tywin had been cold, flippant, and arrogant whenever I’d tried to talk with him. At first I’d just assumed he was having a bad day, or was frustrated by politics and war, the sort of thing men will let themselves be frustrated by. Then I remembered that it was Tyrion’s name day, and naturally thought that it must’ve been a rather painful anniversary for him. But no, even after that had passed, he did not warm up to me.
It became incredibly apparent to me that I was somehow the problem, and what was most annoying was that I had not a single clue as to why. He’d seemed overjoyed when I’d given him the ring, I mean for the gods’ sake, he’d even called me by my name alone.
But now he was dreadful, always grumbling and making excuses whenever we saw one another. They were not even good excuses either, and some had just been outright lies. I had been meaning to confront him about his behavior anyway, but I snapped today.
It had started perfectly fine, a bit dull at the worst, but fine. My grandmother had other business to attend to—which, in reality, meant she did not want to do anything—and so I took her place in the great hall. Though it was ‘unofficial’, there were certain days where the lords and ladies would gather to gossip, plan, and learn unnecessary information about each other. Today was one of those days, and I found myself enveloped in an extremely boring conversation with several noble ladies.
“Lady Trysta was seen flirting with Lord Darren in the gardens yesterday, can you believe it?”
“Gods, isn’t his wife pregnant with their first child?”
“I don’t believe such nonsense. Lady Trysta is a very noble woman, surely she wouldn’t do something so insulting.”
I wondered how my grandmother managed to survive such droll conversations, though I understood that this was why she had sent me in her place. She might’ve sent Margaery if not for the fact that she was with King Joffrey today, and that thought at least provided some reassurance.
But still, I was not the politician that either my grandmother or sister were. I supposed I just preferred real politics to court gossip, though usually the two must go hand in hand.
When I spotted Lord Varys exiting a conversation across the room, however, I took my chance. It would seem far less rude to exit the conversation if it appeared as though I was going to speak with someone else.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I said softly, moving back from the circle and making my way across the room. I did not stay close enough to hear anything they’d said, nor did I look back to see their faces. I quite honestly did not care enough.
Lord Varys saw me coming and brought his hands together in expectation. I gave him a subtle smile, and he raised his eyebrow in response. When I reached him, he bowed his head.
“Lady (Y/N).”
“Lord Varys, how are you?”
“Perfectly fine, my lady. And how are you?” He asked, lowering his hands to his lap. I’d always found Lord Varys to be an agreeable man. Of course, he was still one to be cautious around, but he was infinitely better than Littlefinger, and the short interactions we’d had were enjoyable.
“I have been better and been worse, my lord,” I answered truthfully, knowing it couldn’t really do me any harm. The Spider gave a low chuckle.
“I hear there is news of the change in the wedding plans,” he mentioned, to which I huffed out. There was another thing I needed to discuss with Lord Tywin, as he had not been willing to give Sansa Stark to my brother. She was now to wed Tyrion, and Loras was to wed Cersei. My grandmother had agreed out of fear of Loras being appointed kingsguard, but I would sooner rot in all seven hells than watch my brother marry Cersei Lannister.
“That arrangement certainly does not make me feel better, but it is not that. May I unburden myself to you, Lord Varys?” I asked, hoping for someone wise and reasonable to listen to me. It was not as though I could talk about it to any of my family members, for I feared they would tease and ask far too many questions. They of all people would be surprised to hear me complain that Tywin Lannister was being rude to me, or at least surprised to hear that I wished to remedy the situation.
“Is it something that can be used against you?” he asked, taking a breath and tilting his head. It was good of him to at least give me that warning, even if I already knew better.
“I highly doubt it. I wouldn’t have even brought it up if it was.”
“Smart of you, Lady Tyrell. By all means, go ahead.”
I smiled, and so did Lord Varys. To say that we were friends was a false statement, but I preferred his company to quite a lot of people’s in King’s Landing.
“Recently, I believed Lord Tywin and I to be having an improving relationship. It was rather nice, because being allies with a man you hate is quite frustrating, as I’m sure you can imagine. But, these last two weeks, he’s distanced himself from me more than is anywhere close to reasonable, and I cannot think of anything I may have done wrong,” I explained, sighing and glancing up at the throne, which sat directly over Lord Varys’ shoulder.
The Spider nodded, contemplating and looking down. I saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it disappeared just as fast as it had come. I might’ve asked about it had he not replied so quickly afterward.
“Don’t worry yourself with it, Lady (Y/N). Lord Tywin can be unpredictable at times, I’m certain that whatever reason he has for being a bit colder than usual is a good one,” he assured me, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder. I sighed, gazing across the room where Lord Tywin himself was engaged in a conversation. He was not saying much, but it was clear that everyone in the circle spoke as if they needed his approval.
At that instant, however, he looked over and met my gaze. He only held it for a moment, though, as his eyes then looked Lord Varys over rather thoughtfully. His face twisted bitterly, and he focused on the man speaking again. Lord Varys removed his hand from me, giving me a rather sympathetic look.
“I- I have considered speaking to him about the subject, though I’m not entirely sure if that would be a good idea considering that Lord Tywin is… well, Lord Tywin,” I said, finally turning my head to look at the man in front of me again. He blinked a few times with contemplation and then sighed out.
“The Hand certainly is a complicated man, but I think if you approached him about it in the right way he might be receptive. I do hope you will figure it out, my lady. It would be quite nice to see you and Lord Tywin getting along for a change,” Lord Varys replied, giving the gentlest of smiles. I looked over at the group of men with Lord Tywin again and got the sudden urge to go over.
“Would you come with me, Lord Varys? I’d like to hear that conversation, and I think being on your arm would seem a more natural reason to join it.”
“Of course, my lady.”
I took the Spider’s arm, and we found ourselves wandering across the hall and joining the circle in a matter of moments. The Master of Whispers was never out of place in any conversation, and beside him, neither was I. Lord Tywin gazed at me for a mere second and then returned his focus to the man talking. I was the only woman in the group, naturally.
“Robb Stark wants to behead Rickard Karstark now. The man went and killed two Lannister boys all because he’s bitter,” one of them said, scoffing out as if the notion was utterly ridiculous. Another man glared and shook his head.
“You’d be bitter too if someone killed your boy. Of course, the man’s a bloody fool for doing it, but the anger is understandable.”
“Well, I hope ‘the King in the North’ does the honorable thing like his father would’ve. He’ll lose all the Karstark bannermen if he does. The war will be over five seconds after the man’s head is gone.”
“And he’s got no substantial allies then.”
Feeling the urge to speak up, I let go of Lord Varys’ arm and cleared my throat to grab all the men’s attention. “Robb Stark is a great strategist if nothing else, gentleman. It would be unwise to underestimate him simply because his numbers are small.”
I expected to meet resistance from a few of them, just as women always do in such a setting, but I had not expected it from the Hand of the King himself.
“His numbers aren’t small, he does not have numbers at all. Robb Stark is just like his father, too honorable, and the second Rickard Karstark loses his head, we win,” Lord Tywin spoke, giving me a somewhat condescending look. Everyone seemed surprised, as he’d been very quiet for most of the discussion. My annoyance grew. Why challenge me in a circle of already skeptical men? It depleted my credibility and made me look foolish.
“I’ve heard whispers that Robb Stark has received a request from Walder Frey. Though the boy is already married, Lord Frey wishes to have his uncle, Edmure Tully, marry one of his daughters,” Lord Varys added, and I appreciated his conscious aid, for Lord Tywin was feeling particularly ‘cunt-ish’ this afternoon.
“And if that were to happen, that alliance could be worrisome and a threat,” I said, proving my point as my eyebrows furrowed with anger. The circle grew awkward as the aggression built between Lord Tywin and I.
“Walder Frey will never make an alliance with Robb Stark.”
“And how do you know that? Did you become all knowing since the last time we spoke, Lord Tywin?”
“I know that because I’m not a fool.”
The circle went utterly silent, and not a single man released or took a breath. I felt my eyes twitch. No, I would not stand here and let Lord Tywin embarrass me. We’d always had conflicts, but how dare he insult me so harshly in front of others?
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said sharply, removing myself from them. As I did, Varys gave me a soft look of apology, and I would thank him for it later. As I walked away, however, I heard Lord Tywin say one last thing.
“Forgive her, gentlemen. Lady Tyrell is young and naive, nothing more than a girl, really. She’s under the impression that commanding her father’s armies gives her far more power and influence than she really has. It would be unfair to judge her knowledge of real politics.”
I heard laughter coming from the group, and only for a second did I stop walking. I felt my heart shatter at his words, though it did not take long for anger to replace the hurt.
How dare he?
How dare he embarrass me so publicly? Because his testing tone and his insults had merely been aggravating to my face, but behind my back and not directly to me, they were unforgivable. After every conversation we’d had? After he’d directly confirmed that he did not view me as childish or stupid, he dared to insinuate that I was both things to a group of men that did not know me?
He was well aware of the fact that I did not like to be discredited, and yet he had said such a thing anyway. Perhaps I had overestimated both how truthful and how understanding the Old Lion was.
Despite this feeling of disgust, I continued to walk out of the hall, though anger and possibly even heat were omitted from every step I took. It would stay that way until I confronted him that afternoon, when it would only get worse.
—————
When I entered Lord Tywin’s office, I thought I might explode. He did not even look up at me when I entered, acting as though I simply wasn’t there. He just went on answering letters, completely unaffected by my presence in the room.
I heard the double doors shut behind me, and even more angry about the fact that he was not acknowledging my presence, I made purposeful strides towards his desk. When I reached it, he still would not lift his head.
“Lord Tywin, I wish to speak with you,” I said, balling my fists at my sides to try and contain my fury. I was also trying so hard not to sound rude that I instead sounded like something was stuck in my throat.
“You already are,” he replied curtly, still scratching something down on his parchment. I scowled, reaching across his desk and ripping his stupid quill from his hands. He did not seem shocked, he simply looked at me with boredom. It was as if he was asking me ‘are you done?’.
“I want to speak with you, not at you,” I clarified sternly, placing the quill down on the wood now that Lord Tywin had at least bothered to look at me.
“And what is it that you wish to discuss?”
I could only gape at him for a moment, raising both eyebrows to ask if he was being entirely serious. When he said nothing, I scoffed and clenched my jaw. “What is it that I wish to discuss? I don’t know, perhaps the atrocious way that you treated me today!”
“I don’t know what you mean, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, giving me the most condescending look I’d ever seen. I, however, was in shock. Lady Tyrell?
Lady fucking Tyrell?
“Lady Tyrell, Lord Tywin? Are you serious? And don’t play stupid with me, you’re above that. You embarrassed me in front of all those lords. You made me look like a desperate fool and an idiot,” I hissed, glaring down at him with more anger than I even knew I possessed. I’d suffered quite a lot of insults in my life, but none so degrading as the ones I’d heard from him today.
“You were behaving like one, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, making my knuckles go white on his desk. In all the time that I’d known him, he’d very seldom called me by that title. Many did, but not him. Not when speaking to me, at least.
“Stop fucking calling me that! I’d rather you call me an insufferable cunt than Lady Tyrell!” I shouted in a rare moment of utter frustration. Somehow, him referring to me that way was even more upsetting than him saying that I was childish. I hadn’t a clue why that was.
For just a moment, there was a flash of surprise in the Lord Hand’s eyes. It had been quite some time since I’d yelled at him that way, and I supposed he hadn’t been expecting it. It seemed that my words had gagged the man, for he merely stood up from his seat to be at a more even level to me. Had I been anyone else, his height would’ve been intimidating, but I knew exactly what he was doing and it only made me more bold.
“You crossed a line today, Lord Tywin. Embarrassing me to my face is one thing, and perhaps you believe I deserved that, but when I’m not even present in the conversation and you have the audacity to call me desperate and witless, that is entirely another! You ought to have had the decency to at least try and defend me as Lord Varys did. No, instead you actively opposed me like my sentiment was somehow the most foolish one you’d ever heard, and if you’re honest with yourself, you know that what I was saying made sense,” I ranted, glaring at him and slowly making my way around his desk as I did. I was taking slow, furious steps, and eventually I was standing right in front of him. There was unbridled anger on his face now, and I was at the very least satisfied to have broken his unbothered facade.
“And what would you have had me say? Whether you believe yourself to be clever or not, I don’t agree with your sentiments about Robb Stark and Walder Frey,” he replied, only addressing the most trivial part of my frustration. I sighed, shaking my head at him.
“I’m not asking you to agree with me, but forgive me for wanting you to have at least not embarrassed me. Is that so unimaginable to you? I mean gods help me, Lord Varys! How is it that Lord Varys, a man I hardly know, made me look more credible than you did? Have I overstated our friendship? Do you truly care for me that little?” I went off on him, taking a step forward so that I was practically looking directly up at him. I was unbelievably angry, though more than anything I was hurt.
“We are not friends, Lady (Y/N)! We are allies. Allies! I have no obligation to defend you anywhere but the battlefield. Nor do I have to honor your image, especially when you are so prone to foolishness. Most importantly, I have no obligation to be kind to you at all. Perhaps if you’d had the sense to remind yourself of that, you wouldn’t be so upset in the first place,” he shot back, nose wrinkling with his anger while he spoke. I was relieved to—at the very least—hear him use my name, but also hurt at his sentiment. Although, I was not just going to accept that. I was not one to overstate relationships, and I would not let him treat me like I was groveling for his affection. After all, it was I who had struggled to see him as anything but an enemy.
“Merely allies, Lord Tywin? Be honest with yourself. You have saved my life during the battle, and you helped me back to my room when my stitches split. You had a new pair of armor made for me which was far more elegant than any reasonable person would’ve asked for, and you paid for the smith to fix my Valyrian steel sword. We quite literally hunted, dined, and slept outside together! You want to tell me that we’re not friends? Even after all that? You’re currently wearing a ring that I had made for you and you truly want to believe we aren’t anything more than just allies?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and searching for any hint of emotion in his eyes. I was only trying to clear up where he’d gotten lost, or maybe where I had.
Lord Tywin only glared at me, and after a moment he lifted his hand. I watched him grab at the ring, twisting it back and forth to loosen it from his skin before pulling it off entirely. He grabbed my hand then, opening it up and placing the Valyrian steel inside my palm. Looking at it, my heart sank all the way into my stomach. Tears suddenly began to prick at my eyes, but I looked down. The Lord Hand would not see me cry.
We stood there in silence for a minute, and even though he couldn’t see my eyes, he could obviously tell that he had hurt me. He decided he might as well put the nail in the coffin.
“You really still are that naive and foolish girl from all those years ago, aren’t you-“
As I heard Lord Tywin say it, my hurt suddenly turned into fury. How dare he behave like this? I couldn’t contain myself anymore, even if I’d wanted to.
Though my left hand was holding the ring in it, my right hand was completely free. I slapped Tywin Lannister across the face with all the strength I had in me. My hand was stinging, and he let out a choked noise as I did it. His cheek already looked flushed, and I was rather satisfied with it.
Though, my satisfaction did not last long. Lord Tywin’s eyes filled with hot rage, and he gripped my forearms before pulling me into him harshly. I was pressed up against him, glaring up at him with defiance.
“I will not hit you, Lady Tyrell, but be careful,” he warned, tone low and threatening. My chest was heaving, and so was his.
“It won’t be a problem, Lord Hand. I never wish to speak to you again, civilly or otherwise.” I broke free of his grasp, giving him one last glare and turning my back to him. I made my way out of the room in silence, and only once the door had shut behind me did I permit myself to cry.
—————
Lord Tywin sighed, slumping back in his chair and gripping the arms of it. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the guilt that was chewing away at him. Gods, why had he said all that to you?
His cheek still stung, but he was not bitter. He had pushed you so far you’d felt the need to do that, and that hurt more than any physical pain he was experiencing. And truthfully, he couldn’t stand the lack of weight on his left hand.
“Stupid…” he muttered to himself, sitting up straight again and attempting to return to writing letters. He reached for the quill you’d left on the opposite side of the table, his lips pressing together as he dipped the tip of it into his inkwell. He needed to get his mind off of you, that was all.
The Lord Hand began scratching down words on his parchment, but he got no farther than a sentence. He could not get the image of you out of his head. The way you’d frozen when he’d insulted you in the Great Hall, the way your head had refused to lift when he’d given you back the ring. It was gut wrenching.
He could only scowl to himself, pushing his chair back with such force that it scraped against the stone floor and created an extremely unpleasant noise. Lord Tywin stood, going over to the cabinet at the side of the room to pour himself a cup of wine. He downed it much quicker than he normally would’ve.
Gods, he shouldn’t have grabbed you the way he did. He shouldn’t have said any of what he had. But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To drive you away? He reflected that it had been a simple concept to consider, but now that you truly didn’t wish to speak with him, it hurt so much more than he’d ever imagined.
The sound of thunder distracted him from his thoughts, and it made him flinch. He hadn’t even realized that it was raining outside, if he was honest. Going over to the window, though, he realized he could smell it. He couldn’t recall the last time it had rained in King’s Landing.
No, Lord Tywin could not bear this. No amount of time or distraction would solve this aching. He needed to speak with you, even if you yelled and hit him. He didn’t care; you looked beautiful when you were angry. Perhaps that was what had caused this… affection to form. He did not like that he couldn’t control it.
Firm in his decision, the Old Lion found himself exiting his office and rushing down the stairs in the Tower of the Hand much faster than he probably should’ve been. He couldn’t have cared less, though. All that mattered to him was clearing things up. What if you couldn’t forgive him?
He pushed these thoughts away, walking through the Red Keep with an unmatched pace. His only objective was to reach your room, it did not matter who he passed by. He would speak to you if it was the last thing he did.
“I’d like to speak to Lady (Y/N),” he said to Ser Elias, having arrived at your door and seeing the abnormally tall man standing in front of it. The knight only shook his head.
“She’s gone out, my lord. She- She went to the stables in quite a rush,” he explained to Lord Tywin, making the older man raise an eyebrow and tilt his head.
“And you did not go with her?” He questioned, perhaps glad that he hadn’t but simultaneously furious that you intended to go out and had no protection. Was this knight the stupidest man in all seven kingdoms?
“I- I attempted to convince her, my lord, but she did not want me. I fear she- she requires some time alone,” Ser Elias answered with embarrassment, knowing that he ought to have done more convincing than he actually did. You were sobbing, who was he to argue with you and make it worse? He regretted it now, though.
“And you’re certain she went out? Do not lie to me, Ser,” the Lord Hand warned, trying to make sure that the knight wasn’t merely covering for you.
“Yes, my lord, she did. You may take my tongue if I'm lying,” he replied, to which the Old Lion nodded. Though, he suddenly realized that you were going out in the rain. Gods, he had to go find you. He did not want you to get sick.
Lord Tywin glared at the taller man in front of him before rushing away, needing to get to the stables as soon as he possibly could. The rain had begun to come down quite hard, and if you had been eager to go out you would still be in the dress you’d been wearing all day, and that was not suitable attire for rain like this. According to many ladies at court, it was not suitable attire for anything. Well, perhaps it worked in one situation.
When the Lord Hand reached the stables, he was practically breathless, and yet he was shouting at the men there to saddle his horse as quickly as possible. They did so, and one of them offered him a cloak for the rain. He considered turning it down, but he figured it might be useful to wrap you in the thing once he found you.
As he mounted his horse and began riding through King’s Landing, he realized there was that problem too. You could be anywhere in the city or in the Kingswood, how was he to figure such a thing out? He tried to recall if you’d ever mentioned anything, perhaps a certain spot that you enjoyed. Thankfully, it did not take long for one idea to come to him. He just had to pray that you were actually where he thought you were.
The rain was a heavy downpour as he made his way through the city, and Lord Tywin felt awful. Had it not been for him, you would not have felt the need to ride out here in such weather to begin with. He was thankfully rather protected by his tall boots and his leather coat, but his hair was drenched. He could not even begin to imagine the state you were in.
The Old Lion was riding as hard as his horse would let him, especially now that he had reached the Kingswood. He was searching desperately, trying to find the location he suspected you would be. His eyes were constantly going back and forth in an attempt to find any sign of you as quickly as he could. Even despite the tree cover, the rain was still coming through with a violence.
The sudden neighing of a horse caught his attention, and he worked his way toward it as precisely as possible. The sound of thunder was quite prominent, and he found himself stopping for minutes at a time to listen for anything besides that.
Eventually, however, he found your horse tied to a tree. Right beside it was a much larger one, and he instantly recognized it as the one you’d tried to climb when the two of you had gone hunting.
Lord Tywin pulled on his reins, stopping his horse and holding a hand above his eyes to block the downpour. He squinted as he looked up toward the tree’s branches, and he let out a sigh of relief once he did. Just as he had suspected, there you were, nestled among the tree’s branches. Thank the gods, you were safe. Now all he had to do was speak with you.
—————
I couldn’t recall how long I’d been sitting in this damned tree. From the moment I’d left the Tower of the Hand, I had begun to dissociate. All I knew was that I needed to be away, and this had seemed the most natural place to come, even despite the rain.
Speaking of which, I was utterly drenched. My dress was soaked, and so was my hair, and yet somehow I did not mind that half as much as I minded the emotional turmoil I was experiencing. It was unbelievably frustrating to feel this way, especially over Tywin Lannister.
It was so degrading, for I’d despised the man for so long and the second that I’d dared to let myself feel anything other than hatred for him, he’d decided to do this. The worst part was I had absolutely no clue what had happened, for when we’d gone to the smith together everything had been fine. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to make the Lord Hand so cold to me, and yet he was anyway.
I found myself wiping tears from my eyes even though I shouldn’t have bothered, as the rain was ten times worse. I could taste them in my throat, and I loathed it. Surely this man was not worth crying over, so why was I? He was rude, overly confident, and the most immoral person I’d ever met. I felt pathetic, and I wanted the tears to stop more than anything. They just wouldn’t.
“Lady (Y/N)!”
I felt a chill run up my spine at the sound of my name, and when I moved my head over to look down, I found the Lord Hand on his horse. He was at the base of the tree, looking up at me with his hand above his eyes to keep the rain off of them. The sight of him was somehow both relieving and infuriating. I did not want to speak with him, but he’d come for me even in the pouring rain.
That didn’t mean I was letting him off the hook, however, and after setting my eyes upon him I instantly turned my head the other way. I had told him I didn’t wish to speak with him and I meant it.
“Lady (Y/N) I- I wish to explain myself!” Lord Tywin shouted up at me, trying to make sure that he was audible over the annoyingly loud rain. I had no intention whatsoever to let him know that I could hear him.
“I have- I have been cold to you these last two weeks, I am not going to feign ignorance. I’ve made excuses as to why I cannot speak with you, and I have actively avoided you. You did not deserve that treatment, and you most certainly did not deserve the things that I did and said today,” he said, straining his voice and pausing in between sentences to think through everything he was saying. He almost sounded breathless, and it struck me as odd.
“I was cruel, and I cannot blame you for your anger. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. You- You have gone against your better judgment in associating with me, for I know that I make it quite hard. I’m simply… I’m hesitant, Lady (Y/N),” Lord Tywin continued, and I could sense a certain desperation in his voice. I finally allowed myself to look over at him, and though I could not see him particularly well from the top of the tree, I could certainly see that he truly meant what he was saying. “The last true friend I had was the late King Aerys, and he betrayed my trust in every way imaginable. And you… you already harbor quite a lot of negative feelings toward me, so when you gave me the ring, I- I became afraid. I did not want to permit myself to be hurt if you should suddenly regret tolerating me.”
“So you decided that pushing me away was the best option?” I scowled suddenly, no longer capable of holding in my anger as I turned to face him. Did he really think that his little ‘explanation’ was going to make me forgive him?
“Yes, that is exactly what I decided. And I understand that it was foolish and selfish of me, that is why I am here. I initially believed that- that if I simply pushed you away now it would not hurt me, but the second that you left my office, Lady (Y/N)… even the second that you left the great hall, I understood the gravity of- of my feelings,” he said, grappling with his reins as a sudden clap of thunder startled the animal beneath him. I could only stare at him.
“Your feelings?”
“Yes, my feelings. I desire your friendship, let me be clear about that. Even if I- Even if I believed it was best to push you away, it is not what I wanted. You are infuriating, Lady (Y/N), and I crave it. You yell at me, you lecture me, and then you take my arm all the same. You’re a challenge, and it is invigorating. No matter how many gifts I buy, or how many compliments I give, you’re never complacent. You have made me work not just for your companionship, but simply for the right to be tolerated, so much so that I now yearn for it,” Lord Tywin replied, removing his hand from above his eyes so that I might actually see them. He ran it through his dripping hair instead, slicking it back and blinking hard as the rain came down. I could see the water running down his face, and I pondered that I was like a maiden in a song or a story. Though, Lord Tywin was not my lover, nor was he making a love confession. And unlike those maidens, I still found myself somewhat upset.
“And what happens once you tire of this ‘challenge’, my lord? Why, besides that, do you want my friendship? Because as far as I am concerned, you currently have no problem rejecting my offering of it,” I pointed out, similarly moving the wet hair out of my face. The odds of me being sick tomorrow were almost certainly 100.
Lord Tywin blinked a few more times, wiping the water from his face with his hand and swallowing. He sighed out then, looking down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “Because despite my insults, you are incredibly intelligent, not to mention kind—at least when you’re not angry. But more than that, you… you make me smile… and laugh… and I am not known for doing either of those things. I understand that when you granted me that ring, it was not simply an object, but an offering of your friendship. And I- I sincerely regret turning such a thing down. That is why I am here, Lady (Y/N). I am here because I need your friendship, and I am- I am sorry…”
Even despite the rain, I could see that the Great Lion was looking at me with the utmost fondness in his eyes, and I felt my breath catching in my throat as I processed what he was saying. My head did not want to forgive him, but my heart was tugging at me, perhaps even begging me to.
Because I could not betray either of them, I simply stared at Lord Tywin. In all honesty, I hadn’t a clue what I would say even if I felt capable of speaking. The Hand of the King continued to gaze up at me, and when he realized that I had no intention to say anything, he said the only thing that was left to say.
“Lady (Y/N), please come down. You’re- You’re going to get sick.”
Although I could not reply, I certainly could do this. Even I had to admit that the feeling of being continually stuck in the rain like this was growing uncomfortable. Gods, the ride back to the Red Keep was going to be awful.
Carefully, I adjusted my grip on the tree and began to move my legs over to the side. Lord Tywin knew that I intended to come down, and naturally dismounted his horse to make sure that I was safe as I did.
I held onto the different branches and crevices of the giant tree, and slowly began to work my way down it. The bark was rough and damp against my palms, but I felt sure footed even despite that. I made relatively quick work of it, and once I was close enough to the ground I simply jumped down.
I had not accounted for how slippery the leaves would be, however, and so as I hit the dirt I stumbled forward a bit and fell straight into Lord Tywin’s arms. He gripped me firmly, holding just below my shoulders and helping me stand up straight.
“Are you alright?” he asked, making sure I hadn’t accidentally messed up an ankle or something. I looked up at him, swallowing and then nodding in response to his question. He let go of me then, moving over to his horse and removing a cloak from his saddlebag. “Here, you’re absolutely drenched. We’ll go to the inn down the road, the Red Keep is too far for us to get to in this weather. I’m certain at least one soldier will give up his room for the right amount of gold.”
Lord Tywin wrapped the thing around me, rubbing my arms to warm me up and then placing the hood over my head. I had only now realized that I was shivering. He directed me over to my horse, helping me on before mounting his own animal.
He looked at me once more, trying to make sure that I intended to follow him. When I gave him a nod, he spurred his horse and instantly started toward the nearby road. I started after him, eager to get anywhere that wasn’t outside in this wretched rain.
After about five minutes of hard riding, we thankfully came across the inn that he intended to stay in for the night. It suddenly hit me that Tywin Lannister intended to sleep here. I supposed there were a few nicer rooms, but still, it was hardly comparable to anything in the Red Keep or at Casterly Rock. Then again, he’d had no problem spending the night outside before.
I watched him approach a post then, dismounting and tying his horse to it. I did the same, though I was shivering so aggressively that it took me a moment to actually knot the reins. Lord Tywin was waiting for me, and I could see in his eyes that he was concerned for my health. I was certain it would be fine, I just needed to get warm. Now all that was left to do was pray that Lord Tywin and I could acquire two rooms, though somehow, I had a dreadful feeling that we’d end up stuck in one.
TAGLIST:
@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady
@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter
@prettykinkysoul
@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8
@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice
@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu
@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart
@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666
@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx @lockleysgrl
#tywin lannister x reader#tywin imagine#tywin lannister#house lannister#tywin x reader#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#asoiaf#a lion in the garden
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okay so, I'm here to rant a bit
I watched the last unicorn for the first time in years with my new friends on uni. I convinced them to watch it with me cause it's always been one of my favorite movies when I was a kid. we all had fun during the movie, and it was overall just a really fun and bonding time for all of us.
but of course, there is something that's just bothering me to no end.
my friends collectively agreed on not liking the young prince, that falls in love with Amalthea.
though I understand their point of view (they thought that the romantic line was unnecessary), I can't help but empathize with him.
because from my point of view, he fell in love. that's all he did. fell in love with someone he couldn't have, and he was brave enough to face it, admit it to himself, and work on what he viewed as important to himself at the given moment (went to find her again so he could tell her his feelings and have a closure of the whole thing), and I admire that.
of all the times I've ever been in love, I have always felt that I fell in love with the wrong person, and I worked so hard on making myself understand it's not my fault. seeing my friends talk the way they did about Lir made me question whether I'm stupid or just really unlucky.
because, if he's not the embodiment of falling in love with the wrong person, then I seriously don't know who is. I've always felt strongly about this movie, and as I'm getting older, I can understand him better and better. when I was younger, I thought that surely that's love - he's never gonna give up on her, he'll always dream of their own happy ending; but I think differently now. not so much, perhaps, because it still starts the same. I think that surely that's love - trying again and again, hurting so badly, not knowing how it's going to end.
it ended badly for him, in a way. we never know what happened to him on his way. we just know that he left for the world, for the last unicorn. and to me, that's such a familiar pain that I can't help and love that character in a weird "i can see my reflection in your eyes" kind of way.
the entire story is incredibly sad, but I love it all the more for it. it's sad from the beginning to the very end, and maybe I'm weird, but I love it for it. for the pain I can see somewhere else than in my own life.
#the last unicorn#its sad#like so sad#you dont understand#i fucking cried#my favorite character has to be the talking skeleton tho#for obvious reasons
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Can we get a snippet of Chapter 31 of Slient as Shadows? I LOVE Slient as Shawdos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Of course, internet lovie! 💙🐞 This is from the beginning of the chapter........I have so much to write! 😅
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rey’ka’s scream was drowned out an overpowering cry of his own as toruk flapped his wings with such a powerful gust it knocked half the squad off their feet and increased the struggle to not to fall off the crumbling cliff. It felt like pure lightning shooting through her body as she the strength of toruk revitalized her own. His heart was beating with her own, pumping blood and adrenaline faster and faster through her veins. But for every sensation she felt, it all came crashing down from the assault to her unused sense of hearing. Her unnecessary ears captured every sound as the great sky hunter shared his incredible gifts.
Toruk’s bond with Rey’ka was threatened by her inability to even attempt a calm and serene mindfulness. She screamed again, fearing that her throat would tear from the intensity of her equally unused vocal cords. She threw her head back in an uncontrolled thrash and toruk mirrored this action dangerously by rearing back on its legs before slamming back down when she curled her body forward while pinning her ears back, trying to cover them with her one free arm. Despite the confusion and onslaught of shouting and cracking rocks, Rey’ka grip on the tsaheylu was strong. More of a grasp she couldn’t unclench.
Spider watched in awe and terror of what had happened. Rey’ka was...Rey’ka was in pain! Something was wrong! He HAD to get to her, but he would be crushed if he wasn’t careful. She was struggling to control toruk. At least, that’s what it looked like. She was so calm and composed, despite the condition his father left her in, when she faced off against toruk. It was flawless the way she’d faced and mounted him. The way she was prepared to make the bond. But now...?
“KILL IT!” Quaritch ordered, shouting over the carnage of toruk’s wings and tails flailing around as the ground they stood on fell apart. Easier said than done since most of them only had a small sidearm or combat knife on it. The real firepower was stowed in their packs.
#atwow#atwow fanfiction#atwow spider#atwow oc#recom quaritch#silent as shadows#ao3 writer#ask me anything
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Would love something like you’re in labor and Bradley’s there. Just something fluffy :)
ask and you shall receive! also i've never been in labor, so i tried my best to figure it out.
warnings include: mentions of a (traumatic) labor/birth.
An intrinsic change occurs in Rooster Bradshaw a week after he finds out you’re pregnant with his child.
He stops vying for missions he knows he’d be hard-pressed to come back from.
Where he used to do a buck-thirty down the highway on any given day- rain or shine, he now obsessively follows the speed limit.
Unnecessary risks are simply a thing of the past.
So when the doctor tells you in the delivery room that your baby currently rests in the footling breech position (one leg below the buttocks, the other squished up underneath them) his initial reaction is anger. What went wrong? What could he have done differently to ensure that this didn’t happen? And then he starts to barter in his fury.
If you let my wife and baby come out of this happy and healthy, I’ll never ask for another goddamn thing as long as I live…
“I’m scared, Rooster.”
And he is too.
He’s absolutely terrified of the thought of you in pain or distress of any kind; and the idea of losing the ability to hold his child before they can even manage their first few breaths causes the hair to prickle at the back of his neck.
He takes your hand in his and kisses it. “Whatever happens next kid, it’s going to be alright.”
And this is how he pushes through the fear. Because when you’re this far in it- when it’s so close you can feel the blazing heat of it down your back, there’s no other choice but to dive further into it. So, he pushes the damp hair back from your forehead and places his lips there.
“You can do this, baby. I’ll be right here.”
And as he watches them wheel you away to the operating room, a piece of his heart splinters and dies.
Maverick arrives ten minutes later, perspiration shines on his forehead as he removes the aviators from his face. A sizeable bouquet of wrapped flowers hangs from his left hand. “How is she? I came as soon as you called.”
Rooster glances at him, unaware of how to broach the subject without falling apart. “She’s in operation.”
Maverick’s face drops. “Operation?”
Rooster swallows thickly. “The baby… somehow between our 36-week checkup and now, the baby’s changed positions to a partial breech. She’s gone in for an emergency c-section.”
Maverick drops to the bench beside Rooster, the right words fizzle and fade in the hollow of his throat. “I’m so sorry, Bradley.”
It’s the idea of losing everything he’s worked so hard for that brings him to the brink of insanity. So many things were ripped from him that meaningful connections became incredibly hard to come by, until he met you. And it was both terrifying and exhilarating to know that that part of himself didn’t die with his father.
“Did anyone else have a hard time writing their vows?” Rooster asks one evening over beers at the Hard Deck.
Bob pushes the wire-framed glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No, I had mine written a month after I met May.”
Hangman guffaws loudly at that. “I’m sure you did, Bob.”
“Oh, he’s not lying.” Phoenix affirms. “What have you got written so far, Rooster?”
Hangman reads the look on his best friend’s face like an open book, his expression incredulous. “Bradshaw, you’re getting hitched in three weeks, and you still haven’t written your vows yet?”
Rooster’s cheeks grow warm under the influence of beer and embarrassment. “I just… don’t know how to convey to her everything she means to me. What her love and support symbolizes.”
Coyote throws a dart at the board a few feet from them and turns to Rooster, his grin wide and infectious. “For the right price my friend, I would be happy to write your vows for you.”
Phoenix rolls her eyes and throws a napkin airplane at his head. “Don’t be a dick, Coyote.”
“I have a rough outline.” Rooster murmurs, defensively.
Phoenix places a reassuring hand over his shoulder blade. “Then the rest will fall into place, buddy.”
“She’s a fighter,” Maverick murmurs, piercing the silence and rousing Rooster from his reverie. “And if the baby she’s about to bring into this world is anything like its grandparents, then you have little to worry about. She is not alone in there, Bradley.”
And it’s then that Rooster hangs his head and gives himself over to the emotions he had been trying so hard to fight off.
And none of this is fair. His wife shouldn’t be in emergency surgery, and Goose should still be here.
Tears stream in rivers down Rooster’s face now but Maverick makes no move to touch him; his unwavering presence is enough- has always been enough. It’s the unshakable bond that two people who have lost something precious to them share. It’s an unspoken understanding; I miss them as much as you do. Rooster couldn’t comprehend any of it at the beginning; even balked at it, but Maverick’s existence in his life has always been a gift.
“I’m the last person you should be going to for advice on wedding vows,” Maverick laughs and throws down the wrench he had been using to tinker around his plane with.
Rooster can’t argue that; the man had been a bachelor his entire life. “You never thought you’d marry?”
Maverick laughs again. “Thought? Maybe. But expectation and reality rarely ever see eye to eye.”
Silence settles between the pair of them; words left unsaid but certainly felt. Maverick wipes the black oil from his hands on a worn cloth and steps away from the plane to give his full and undivided attention to Rooster. “For what it’s worth- she knows you, Bradley. In every way that a future wife can know a husband. And if you are honest in your feelings for her, the rest will fall into place.”
Rooster’s gaze drifts to the cork board a couple feet away. To the smiling photographs of his mother and father that decorate every square inch of free space and something heavy tugs at his heart. “I miss them, Mav.”
“Me too, kid.”
“Mr. Bradshaw?” Rooster jerks up from the curve of Maverick’s shoulder where he had dozed off. Your doctor is standing off to the side, an expectant smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “Your wife has just done a tremendous job. Would you like to come hold your baby girl?”
Rooster’s gaze travels to Maverick’s as if to check for confirmation, and the elder man nods his head, happy tears brimming in the depths of his blue eyes. “You heard her right, kid. Go get her.”
Rooster rushes down the hall to be next to you; holds your face in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you…” His tears wet your face, mingling with your own as he peppers you with kisses.
“She has your eyes,” You whisper.
Rooster rises from his position at the side of your bed to take his newborn baby girl into his arms. She is breathtaking in her fragility; a true wonder to marvel at her. He traces a fingertip down the bridge of her tiny nose and beams at her. “Thanks for taking care of them, pops.”
#dreamed this up quick so forgive me if its not what you envisioned#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#top gun: maverick#fluff#writing#asks#tw: birth#tw: labor
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Something I find funny is that some people/fans say and actually think that Kishimoto didn't know what to do with Kakashi's character after the Pain arc (as if everything that comes after that arc was a last minute invention). It seems strange to me since at no point does the character make you feel that he's in the way or that he's unnecessary in the story. Literally, without him, Obito's revelation would have no weight..
Do people just read/watch with their eyes closed??? Kishi had so many things he had Kakashi doing
Kakashi was the leader of the tactical division in the war with Gai as his second in command
Kakashi was the reason Obito’s big reveal held any real weight. Without him Obito’s reveal would mean little and would have just been better to stay as ‘Madara’
Kakashi was the narrative foil to Obito. Kakashi was the one who lost so much but never gave up, where Obito turned his back to the world upon seeing how broken the system was and what that broken system cost him
Kakashi is the reason Obito got up to fight again, except on the side of the alliance
Without Kakashi Obito’s heart se all would never be destroyed. Chidori is the perfect move for that because it cuts and slices through the body. Naruto’s rasangan cannot do that and a one V One fight between Obito and Naruto wouldn’t have been nearly as meaningful/epic.
Without Kakashi, sasuke and Naruto loss to Kaguya. They were losing. They kept losing. It was Kakashi’s plan that finally allowed them to win.
Without Kakashi, Naruto approaches Danzo about Sasuke and probably gets thrown into a prison cell where he either has to sit his ass down or go rouge to save Sasuke. Kakashi took him out of the village against rules. Kakashi took him to the Raikage. It is because of Kakashi that Naruto got to plead for Sasuke’s life directly to the raikage
If Kakashi had not taken Naruto out of the village Naruto may never have learned the truth of the massacre and subsequently told Sasuke he was willing to ‘bear the burden of his hatred and die with him’
Sakura would have died. Multiple times but most importantly against Sasuke. It was Kakashi who saved her first. Even if Naruto saved her from that, Kakashi saved her from the ten tails attack that killed Neji, the lava dimension, kaguya curb stomping her. Without Kakashi, Sakura is dead.
Without Kakashi, Gai never would have hit his mark when he opened the eigth gate. It was Kakashi who kamuied away a piece of Madara’s shield so Gai could land his kick.
Without Kakashi Danzo becomes Hokage unchallenged, and Konoha is scrambling for a new leader after Danzo’s death.
Speaking of, Kakashi is the only Hokage (before Naruto) who is officially choices not just by those who would follow him (shikaku) but the other Kage’s who would work with him. Kakashi was suggested by Gaara and unanimously agreed upon by every single Sage as someone they could work alongside shortly after Danzo’s Bs was revealed.
Kakashi was made to do so much. Without him the story would be incredibly different. I know some whinners want him to be ‘irrelevant’ or ‘useless’ but he’s not
The story needs him
If Kishi actually struggled to figure out what to do with him, he would have made him a POW like he did with Yamato. He would have simply removed him from the story in some way, rather than giving him a meaningful important role throughout the war arc
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::still here!::
dreamer: [character] talks in their sleep. With Jeff
Hello, again! Back with another sickness prompt. This one was an interesting one to write. It went nowhere I had planned it to, but it ended up being sweet (and sad, sorry!). Hope you enjoy it, @janetm74!
Warnings for this one: a couple of swear words and brief discussions of death. Nothing major, but just covering my butt.
Dreamer (feat. Jeff)
Virgil had been tending to him all night. Going by the dark circles under his brother’s eyes and his hair that had been clearly disheveled from hands being run through it constantly, Scott would have unhappily bet that Virgil hadn’t left Jeff’s bedside since Scott had left him in the early hours of the morning.
That wouldn’t do.
He laid a hand upon his brother’s back before gently coaxing him into getting some food and some well-deserved rest. Virgil protested, of course, but Scott was able to alleviate any worries with a few simple words.
I can take it from here, Virg. Don’t worry, I’ll watch over him. He’s safe.
Whether it was down to tiredness, hunger or a mixture of the two, Virgil relented vigil duty to his older brother and went off in search of the sustenance and rest he so desperately needed. Scott hoped he wouldn’t see him return to their father’s room until at least the evening, though he was certain that was wishful thinking.
In the vacated seat, Scott sat. He checked over holo-files that detailed his father’s condition. Normally, for minor injuries and illnesses, Grandma wouldn’t bother with all the official mumbo jumbo of paperwork, but given Dad’s recent stint in space, she had thought it better to keep an eye on him properly. Scott had, at first, disagreed. After all, how bad could a cold get? Not even a day later was he regretting that question.
Jeff’s fever had spiked astronomically and he’d been out for the count for days afterwards. Virgil had fought alongside Scott in getting Grandma to allow Jeff to stay in his room. So often was Dad visiting hospitals these days, the last thing Scott wanted was for him to feel unsettled when he eventually woke up.
Gordon had claimed that Jeff had been lucid once throughout the last few, painful days, but Virgil had brushed it off as nonsense. Scott wasn’t sure what to believe. All he knew was that his father lay sweating in a bed over an illness that Jeff would have once not even batted an eyelid at. Eight years in space and now a single, pathetic cold took him out. Scott foolishly hoped that it was a one-off whilst his body became used to everything again. He feared it wasn’t.
The Squid had been right, it seemed, as Jeff woke hours later, fully lucid but still incredibly sick. Virgil had offered unnecessary apologies to Gordon, who simply shrugged them off. Grandma had made sure Dad received enough soup — lovingly made and sent by Penelope as a ‘get well soon’ gift — and told the boys to allow him to sleep the rest of the illness off.
Jeff hadn’t yet reawakened, but his vitals seemed to be holding steadily normal again.
Scott took a look at his father, brushing hair back from his forehead and ignoring how he was still a little too hot. He looked so peacefully sleeping. Knowing it was a normal slumber and not one brought on by his body going into shut-down had Scott a little less tense than his last visit, but he was still understandably shaken.
They had got Dad home only to nearly lose him again to something so mundane. That wasn’t poetry or irony, or anything else fancy that John had tried to pass it off as. It was just shit. Unfair shit that neither Dad, nor any of them, deserved.
Scott flicked the device from Jeff’s readouts — he couldn’t understand half of that jargon anyway — and turned his attention to some much needed work. International Rescue was still, somehow, operating with half of them tending to Jeff, and that meant reports needed writing up.
He was just about to start one for Alan’s recent Mars mission when Jeff began to mumble something.
At first, Scott thought he was awake and was wanting water, but he soon realised that he was still fast asleep. Scott attempted to go back to his reports, but that would prove futile. He became far too distracted by Jeff’s sleep ramblings.
————————————————
Gran Roca Ranch stood proud against the rusty backdrop of the Kansas plaines. The summer mid-west heat was stifling. He must have been mad to leave the cool, air-conditioned ranch, but she was calling to him. From the distance, beyond the plains and canyons, a familiar, sweet-toned voice beckoned him to join her.
It helped with the pain, to be far away. Jeff knew none of it was real, knew it was all but a dream, and that his true, physical body was somewhere else, battling an illness that shouldn’t have been this hard to fight.
That knowledge didn’t stop him from running, however.
From flying.
He found her by a nearby plateau, standing on the edge of the rock and staring out at the great expanse beyond. She wore a familiar long, flowing cream dress, dotted with flowers, that blew in a wind that Jeff couldn’t feel.
“Here you are again,” Lucille proclaimed fondly, turning to face him with an outstretched hand.
“Here I am again.” Jeff repeated, taking her hand and closing the distance between them with a hug. It felt so real, so right, and if he truly wanted to he could probably have willed himself to stay there forever.
“The last time you were here, you were still stuck on some barren rock.” Lucille guided him toward the edge of the plateau where she sat, her legs dangling over and swinging gently.
“The boys. They got me home.”
“I told you they would.”
He had often visited her in the tougher moments of his unintentional exile. He hadn’t been surprised to be greeted by her again.
Jeff matched her soft smile, following her lead and sitting down beside her. For an unknown amount of time — because who truly understands the mechanics of a dreams — they sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company just as they had so often when she had been alive.
“They thought they were going to lose me again, Luce.” Jeff eventually admitted. After all, she was the only one he could fully open up to, even after all these years and a whole void between them. “I heard them talking. I heard them fretting.” He sighed. “I fear they’ll wrap me in cotton wool and never let me leave the island again.” His joke was accompanied with a chuckle.
Lucille laced her fingers with his, her head resting on his shoulder as she released her own laugh. “Would you blame them if they did?”
“No. No, I guess I wouldn’t.” Jeff gently squeezed her hand. “I guess I’m just worried that I’m causing more trouble by being home than—”
“Jefferson Tracy, you stop that train of thoughts right now.”
He did, without hesitation and with extremely apologetic eyes darting over to glance over her face. Her beautiful, un-ageing face.
Jeff lifted a finger to stroke her cheek. “You’ve got to tell me your skin-care routine, Luce. At this rate, people will mistake me for your father.”
Lucille batted his arm at that, though her smile was still shining brightly. “Don’t try and change the topic.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Yes, you were. You knew exactly what I was going to say, you just don’t want to hear it.”
“Oh, really? And what was it you were going to tell me?”
“That the boys would never see you as a burden, Jeff. They spent the last eight years mourning you. Do you really think they’d put in all that effort to rescue you, only to not want to care for you? They love you.”
“I caused them such a panic. God, I could have given Ma a heart failure from all this stress.”
“Maybe, but you know how strong your mother is. How strong our boys are.”
“They shouldn’t have to be strong, not for me.”
“Nevertheless,” Lucille was determined to finish her point, “it couldn’t be helped. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment. If what happened to you happened to one of them —to your ma, to one of the boys — what would you have done? What would you have thought?”
Lucille allowed Jeff to imagine. In his dream-state, he wasn’t able to fully control his thoughts and ended up vividly picturing the scene — of himself sitting in the chair beside one of his son’s beds, carefully and gently tending to them. He couldn’t bare the sight, but at the same time, Jeff knew he would have done anything, gone through anything, to be there. To help them.
“You being home was the one miracle none of them ever truly believed would come true, Jeff.” Lucille continued. “Do not ever think that it was a mistake.”
He knew she was right, not only because he felt it deep within him but because Lucille was always right. Apparently that gift was something she carried into the after-life.
“I miss you, Luce.”
“I miss you too.”
“The boys miss you.”
“They have you now, back home with them.”
“Would it be too much to ask the universe for one more miracle, to return you to us as well?” Jeff joked though he wished he could have meant every word.
Lucille laughed, squeezing Jeff’s hand once again. “We’ll all be a family again one day, Jeff, but not for a very long time.”
It both pained him and filled him with relief.
“But for now, rest with me for a little longer. Scott will be waiting for you when you wake up.”
———————————————————
Scott had long since put down his report and was sitting on the side of Jeff’s bed, his father’s hand gently cradled in his. His blue eyes had leaked tears. He couldn’t hear the other-side of the conversation, and even Dad’s words were no more than an unintelligible mumble, but he knew who he was dreaming about. Who he was talking to.
He wondered what adventure his parents were on, if any at all given the amount of talking Dad was doing. Scott frowned. Some of the truths that had come out of his father’s lips had been tough to hear. Did he really see himself as a burden to them? Scott couldn’t allow that. He’d have to make sure he worked extra hard to dispel those thoughts. Having Dad home was nothing short of a miracle — a word that was used minutes later by Jeff himself — and he was going to make sure his father understood that.
It was hard not to overthink the brief sentences of a one-sided conversation his father was having in his dream. Virgil would probably be getting the low-down later on, not only for Dad’s sake — because Scott doubted Dad would open up about those worries he’d been mumbling about to any of them — but also for himself. There was something melancholic hearing Dad talking to Mom again, even if none of it was real. Add in Jeff’s words and Scott found more salty tears running down his cheeks.
Had he failed him so bad that now Dad didn’t feel like he belonged home?
Worse than that, how was Scott going to approach talking to Dad about it without letting him know he was eavesdropping into a half conversation from his dream?
His worries floated away when John appeared in the doorway, allowing the crack of light from the outdoor hallway to flood through. Scott waved his brother over and John quietly took the seat in Scott’s vacated chair.
They sat together in companionable silence until Jeff finally roused from his slumber. Despite John’s attempts to stop him, Scott launched himself at his father, holding onto him tightly as though he feared he’d slip away from him again. Jeff seemed to understand, returning his son’s ferocious hug with as much strength as he could muster.
Words would be said and discussions had, but for now the simple action of a hug seemed to convey enough.
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds fanfiction#ask game#sickness prompts#five answers#jeff tracy#scott tracy#lucille tracy#five fics
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duality
miya atsumu × gn! reader
summary: rivals to lovers but make it lowkey
-------------------------------------------------------
You and Atsumu have been working on this project for weeks. You wanted to do it by yourself but he insisted on helping, claiming he was a gentleman and what not. And you so stupidly fell for it. The only thing he had to do was make the powerpoint presentation that contained all of the literature you two had gathered. But did he do that? No, he did not.
The part that you were supposed to present was completely cut out off the presentation, because Atsumu claimed it was unnecessary and basically trashed all your work from the previous two weeks. And now he was blaming you.
The fucking audacity of this guy.
When you saw the final presentation he turned in, you immediately went to the gym to pay him a visit. You marched inside with frustration evident on your face, but the blonde was too busy talking to his teammates about something to notice.
'Miya!'
He groaned internally at the sound of your voice, closing his eyes and opening them again to mentally prepare for whatever you want with him.
'Yes, Y/N?'
He sighed, looking at you with bored eyes. His whole demeanor irritated you even more as you marched up to him and pointed a finger in his face.
'What the fuck happened to the presentation?! You cut out all of my research!'
He moved your finger nonchalantly before shrugging and answering your question as if it was obvious.
'It was boring. No one was going to pay attention to it anyways'
You can't even register what he's saying because of how stupid it is. Does he hear himself?
'Excuse me?'
'You're excused angel ~'
He smirks, but it only makes your desire to punch him grow. The way he acted was always a mystery to you. He pretends to be annoyed by you and then shamelessly flirts the next second.
You look at him with disgust, choosing not to focus on his teammates that stood around you and watched this whole exchange curiously. Instead you took a step closer, closing the space between you two and looking at him with pure hatred.
'What the fuck is wrong with you.'
He laughs. He laughs so hard his head falls back and he's holding his stomach in pain. His grin looks like it might split his face in half and you're beyond confused.
'What?'
'You wanna kiss me so bad ~'
'I'd rather kiss the fucking floor than your ugly face'
You stand your ground and Miya Atsumu dares to glare at you. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are burning with anger. Or maybe it's something else?
A subtle smirk was starting to show on your face as more seconds passed without him uttering a single word. In the end he just huffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling a 'whatever' and resuming his practice.
It was a win for you, but you were still annoyed about the project. As you walked home and tried to forget the whole ordeal, you didn't notice someone falling in step next to you. With a short glance you were able to register the familiar grey hair.
'Osamu'
'Hi. We need to talk'
You cocked an eyebrow, stopping in your tracks to look at him.
'I'm listening'
He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, before placing his hands in his pockets and looking back at you.
'I just wanted to apologize for Tsumu's behavior. For what's it worth I saw the original project and it was really good. He didn't mean to cut out your part, we've just been having terrible wifi issues the past few days'
'What? Why would he lie about it?'
'Well cause he's stupid like that'
Osamu rolled his eyes, well aware of the meaning behind his brothers actions. You were evidently confused, ushering him to continue.
'Huh?'
'Listen, he likes you. He has for a while now. He's just incredibly immature emotionally and has no idea how to deal with these feelings'
You stood there bewildered, blinking at Osamu rapidly while trying to process this new information. It can't be true right?
'You're probably his first crush so go easy on him when you reject him'
Reject him?
Now that you think about it, would you really reject Atsumu? Sure, he might be insufferable sometimes but like many others, you failed to resist his charm.
You liked the way he was passionate about volleyball. You liked the way he was sure of himself. You liked the way he just flirted with you whenever the opportunity presented itself. So maybe, just maybe, you liked him too.
Osamu changed the topic after that, walking you home and asking about your day. He was very considerate and laid back, the complete opposite of how Atsumu usually was.
For the next few weeks you weren't able to get the blonde out of your head. He was everywhere - in your class, at lunch, in the backyard, and so on. You were starting to see him everywhere, he wasn't easy to miss but still.
You started taking notes of the subtle things he did too. The way he asked for your notes or help with homework, how he complimented you when you got a good grade on a test, and many more cases. This was a side of him that you were completely unaware of.
One day when you were walking to a coffee shop, you saw Atsumu on a jog. He was across the street, running in the direction towards you. You wondered if he would see you, and if he did would he come up to you? You didn't exactly know if you became friends with him or not, but you did notice him being a little softer around you.
Thankfully your train of thought was interrupted when you saw him cross the street, a big grin on his face.
'Hey Y/N! Whatcha doin?'
'Oh nothing much, I'm just going to grab some coffee'
'Oh? I could use a coffee'
He smiled at you, almost expectantly and you returned the gesture a bit uncertain.
'Uh...wanna come with?'
'I'd love to! It's a date ~'
He winks and slings an arm around your shoulder, taking advantage of your surprised state. It was only when you've almost reached the coffee shop wnen you realized what his gesture actually meant.
'Wait was this your way of asking me out?!'
Atsumu smirked, pulling you closer to him and humming contently.
'Took you long enough'
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu x you#miya atsumu#haikyuu drabbles#atsumu x reader#atsumu x you#miya atsumu fluff#atsumu scenarios#atsumu imagines#miya atsumu imagines#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu fluff#atsumu miya#atsumu fanfic#atsumu fic#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you
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