#okay guys I promise I'm not going to be a Star Wars blog from now on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magic-owl · 5 years

Note

prompt: unanswered questions, Star Wars (it's vague but I'm sure you've got something

Everyone who likes Star Wars can follow me for Star Wars stuff on my Star Wars blog, @twilightofthe

I did the thing! Sorry if it wasn’t what you were looking for, but I really needed to practice writing a Padmé voice, and this cute little thing was what came to mind!

• • •

The first time Anakin asks Padmé to marry him, he is more than a little drunk.

Well, not drunk, per say, but certainly drugged.

It is the morning after the Battle of Geonosis, and the massive Republic cruisers sent to retrieve its new army from the battlefield are due to arrive back on Coruscant in a couple of hours.

Aboard one of them is Padmé, who has just finished having her own injuries from the battle redressed by a med-droid, and is absolutely not using her being in the medbay anyway as an excuse to go searching for the handsome face that had whirled back into her life with all the heat and intensity of a summer sandstorm.

It takes a couple of tries, peering into rooms to see other wounded Jedi, offering Senatorial thank you’s and well-wishes. She is the only civilian on board.

Eventually, she peeks in and there he is. Her heart does that new, terrifying, exhilarating little twist it’s made a habit of whenever she sees him, and if she hurries into the room to take a seat in the stool pulled up next to his sleeping form, well, no one else is there to see her.

And if she makes the mistake of looking too long at him, face soft and young and beautiful in slumber, gods, if she looks at his hand— or lack of, anyway —well, there’s no one there to apologize to as she ducks down and trails her lips across his brow, his nose, his cheek, the barest of breaths against his half-open mouth.

She hasn’t seen him since they were separated in the battle, since she held her own side by side with those new clone soldiers, since she had been swept away in the aftermath to medical for the claw slashes on her back, to emergency holocalls with various senators including the Chancellor to discuss the oncoming war, to a hasty gathering with the assembled members of the Jedi Council to recount what exactly had happened when her and Anakin had decided to leave Naboo.

(She doesn’t mention Tatooine at all.)

She hadn’t even known Anakin had landed himself in intensive care until she had asked faux-casually as she could manage how her assigned protectors had fared, and a councilor, she couldn’t remember who, had taken pity and told her.

She hasn’t realized until now just how frightened she had been, just how much she’s missed him, and she’s scared that the thought no longer scares her. Yes he had lost his hand, but he could have died and she wouldn’t have even been there to say goodbye...

As she steals that hint of a kiss, he shifts, mumbling incoherently against her mouth, and she freezes, jerking her face backwards until she’s hovered a respectable distance over him, watching in anticipation as his long lashes flutter. His nose twitches as one of her loose curls brushes against it and she quickly sits up to wrap the offending strands into a messy bun. When she turns back around, he’s watching her, goofy smile on his face and blue eyes sparkling under half-lids.

“Hiya, Angel.”

Padmé feels herself flush like the giddy teenager she never got to be. “Hello, Ani. How are you feeling?”

“Y’ so pretty,” Anakin informs her, completely ignoring her question and tilting his head to the side, gazing at her adoringly. It’s incredibly endearing.

It also isn’t quite right, Padmé decides, as she notes the hazy glint in his eyes, the dropping of his mouth, the slurring of his words as he babbles something else about angels and how he’s in love with one— her heart takes flight at that part, and she has to forcibly pull it back down again. She spots the number of tubes and wires trailing beneath the sheet he’s tucked tightly under that lead to the stump on his wrist, and she realizes she doesn’t even know how he was injured.

“Anakin,” she laughs, tilting away from his left hand as it emerges from the sheet to paw at her face, catching it in her own. “You’re still on pain meds.”

“What? Nah.” Anakin’s nose wrinkles adorably. “‘Kay, maybe a little. Jus’ a bit. It’s a happy buzz, s’all.” His eyes meet hers again and she can feel the hand she’s captured tighten around her fingers. “You make me happy.”

Something catches in her throat, and Padmé is forced to swallow before speaking. “You make me happy too,” she says honestly, and it’s the truth.

“Heh.” He offers her another dopey smile and it takes all of her trained, Queenly restraint not to kiss it right off his face. She settles for stroking a hand down his cheek as he leans into it.

He still hasn’t answered her question though. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asks gently, nodding towards where his stump arm is draped across his chest in a protective mechano-casing.

Something darker stirs in his eyes, and she just squeezes his hand in comfort, treading as lightly as she can. “You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Anakin scowls, shaking his head and running a thumb over her knuckles. “Dooku,” he eventually spits out.

Padmé bites back her own snarl at the mention of the Count. “I hear he escaped,” she says evenly. “I’m sorry.”

“My fault,” Anakin mutters. “Mastern’I were fighting ‘im. He hurt Obi Wan, n’ I tried t’ take him alone. Failed. Yoda had to save our asses.”

Padmé can tell that from his averted gaze and the way he’s leaning his missing limb away from her, right now it’s his pride that has taken the most serious injury. Unable to help herself, she raises his grasped flesh hand and kisses it. “I’m just happy you’re alive and safe.”

Rolled eyes and a snort. “Not all of me.” He waves his stump in the air for emphasis. “Gonna be part cyborg, gonna set off all th’ metal detectors.”

A giggle escapes Padmé at that, and she stifles it quickly in fear of upsetting him, but when she looks at him she just sees proud content on his face. He’s happy he made her laugh.

She smiles reassuringly, now gathering both his stump and his flesh hand together in hers. “Well I can promise you I won’t have any metal detectors. You’ll be safe with me.” She kicks herself inwardly. What am I saying?

He turns a charming shade of red and ducks his head slightly, staring at their connected hands. He mutters something under his breath, and she nudges him. “Come again?”

He looks up at her now, blue eyes shining with a new sense of eager urgency. “I was just thinking,” he says slowly, “that maybe you could give me your hand...”

Okay, now he’s definitely been on the medication for too long. “I don’t think that would work,” she tells him, struggling to hide her laughter. “I kind of need my hand, and it’s a bit small for you, wouldn’t you say so?

He pouts again. “That’s not what I—“

“And here I was worried about leaving you by yourself.”

Padmé almost has a heart attack, whipping around to see Anakin’s master leaning in the doorway.

“Hey, Master,” Anakin greets him casually, as if he’s not still gripping Padmé’s hand with his remaining one. “See, Padmé, just look at what Dooku did to his leg!”

Obi Wan is currently wearing pants so Padmé can’t actually see what happened, but from the way he grips a cane to support himself and the bags under his eyes, she can tell he’s had a rough time. She wonders if he’s slept yet.

“Hello, Anakin. Senator Amidala.” He dips his head at her, and she realizes with a start that he must have been the one to pull the chair next to Anakin’s bed that she’s currently sitting in.

“Knight Kenobi,” she greets in return, starting to rise to give him his seat back, only for him to shake his head and motion for her to keep it. She resettles uncomfortably, trying her best to shake off any sort of prickly defensiveness. She’s only visiting the man who helped protect her, she’s done nothing wrong, nothing to feel guilty about.

Obi Wan’s grey eyes seem to hold no accusation in them, however, so she forces herself to calm as he enters the room. “How are you, Senator? You’re healing from your injuries, I hope?”

The claw marks on Padmé’s back twinge at the reminder, and she rolls her shoulders, surprised he‘s remembered. “I’m doing well, thank you; I can barely feel them anymore. And you?”

Anakin cuts in rather rudely. “Hey, Master, could you talk to Padmé later? She still needs to answer my question.”

Padmé blinks. “What question?”

“What I was just asking you about,” Anakin insists.

Hands?! She shoots a helpless glance at Obi Wan, who gives the slightest of shrugs and an amused smile before turning to Anakin.

“It seems you’ve caught the lady unawares, young one. Care to repeat the question for her?”

Anakin huffs. “I was trying to ask her to marry me.”

Silence.

“Oh,” Padmé says faintly. He wants my hand...

“Oh,” Obi Wan echoes, looking rather like someone has pulled the ground out from under him. Padmé thinks she knows the feeling.

“Well?” Anakin demands.

“Um,” is Padmé’s eloquent response, and Obi Wan’s hand goes to pinch the bridge of his nose.

There’s more awkward, dragging silence, and Padmé doesn’t know if she can breathe, and then at the same time—

“I am so sorry!” her and Obi Wan blurt out in unison.

“I’m not,” Anakin offers.

Obi Wan makes a frustrated noise, but otherwise ignores him in favor of Padmé. “You’re sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have woken him up!” Padmé gasps, hands flailing. “He needs rest, he’s still on medication—“

“I’m not that drugged,” Anakin says indignantly.

“It’s not your fault, I promise you this isn’t normal behavior for him,” Obi Wan’s own eyes are rather wide. “I know he meant no—“

“I meant it,” Anakin insists.

“He meant no offense,” Obi Wan finishes in exasperation.

“Please, none taken, it’s really fine,” Padmé promises, having stood from the chair at this point, noticing how her and Obi Wan have been circling each other like anxious buzzards.

“You guys look kinda pale, maybe you should sit down,” Anakin observes from the bed, patting both sides with hand and stump. “And Padmé—“

“You both should get some rest,” Padmé breathes, half-wondering why she hasn’t physically turned into a quivering lump of jelly to match her insides. “I should be going.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” There’s a frown in Anakin’s voice and she cant bear to look at his face.

“I’m sure you two will see each other again.” The assurance from Obi Wan makes her turn to him in shock. He’s staring right at her, and for the first time, she can see that the normally unreadable man looks as frightened as she is.

Will she reveal what Anakin asked her? Will she stay or will she go? Will she hurt him? that gaze says.

Padmé feels as though she must be visibly trembling, but she nods back, words addressed to Anakin but eyes straight on Obi Wan. “Of course we will, Anakin. I’ll still need someone to see me home safely after, won’t I?”

I’ll not tell a soul, how can I leave him, I love him, I love him so much it terrifies me.

“Okay, good,” Anakin says, and Obi Wan offers her the most tentative of smiles in return.

“I will see you both around, then,” Padmé tells them stiffly. “I’ll see you around”? Smooth, Senator... She gives them both a nod, turning on her heel and heading for the door. “Good day, Master Jedi.”

She hears Anakin call out “Bye, Padmé!” as she ducks through the doorway and scurries off down the hall, clutching her dress closely to her sides.

She knows she is considered attractive by a number of species, and this is far from the first impromptu proposal she has received over a lifetime as Queen and senator. Anakin, however, is the only one out of all of them who has ever made her want to answer “yes”.

Once they arrive back on Coruscant, it’s a whirlwind of rushing back to her home to throw on an appropriate outfit for the emergency Senate session the Chancellor calls immediately, struggling to make herself heard over the raucous from the pods around her as she makes a last ditch plea for consideration of any other possible routes they could take that wouldn’t mean civil war, despair when the vote falls in favor of it, even when she knew it was coming.

The rest of that week is spent making future plans with political allies, contacting the Council and confirming that yes, she is still to have an escort when she returns home, and solidifying the details of the trip back to Naboo itself, and what she will discuss with the Queen once she arrives.

The entire time, Anakin’s question is a burning flame in the back of her mind.

When the day comes that she is to travel home, she clenches her fingers tightly in the pockets of her traveling dress, worrying. Maybe he won’t even come, maybe they have sent someone else altogether to escort her back.

But no, there he is, golden hair gleaming in the setting sunlight, head bowed in respect but dark blue eyes peering up at her hopefully, both hands conspicuously hidden from view inside his robe pockets.

His master is walking with him, hand on his shoulder, but when they meet, Padmé is informed that only Anakin will be escorting her back; Obi Wan has business to attend to here.

Padmé doesn’t even have time to process what that means, that once again they will be alone together, when Obi Wan is stepping away, telling them to take care. His eyes meet hers for a brief moment and Padmé catches the double meaning.

I will always take care of him, she vows.

Then they’re boarding the ship and they’re taking off and they’re jumping to lightspeed, and they’re very much alone and Padmé feels like the ship is going much too slow, like her heart is racing parsecs ahead of them.

They both sit there awkwardly for a time, watching hyperspace swirl around them, before Anakin takes a deep breath and holds up his right hand, which he had taken out of his pockets earlier but has been sheathed in a black glove.

She can’t take her eyes away as he slowly, with unsteady fingers, unlatches the buckles and snaps holding it on, then slips the glove off. He offers the glove to her, but she takes the hand instead.

It’s a basic design, skeletal lines of metal shimmering from the light of space around them. He’s talking to her about it in a gruff, embarrassed tone, saying how it doesn’t look like much but it was what they had at the time, and he’s already drawing up blueprints for modifications, and then he’s cutting himself off with a shiver when she rolls the shining knuckles in her grip.

She looks up at him and he’s looking at her and now he’s much closer than he was before and then he’s kissing her. She kisses him back.

Surprisingly, it’s him who breaks it first, resting his forehead against hers. His voice when he speaks is rougher, lower, and that definitely does something for her.

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

She knows exactly what question he’s talking about.

He humors her anyway. “In medical, on the ship back from Geonosis. I remember asking you something very important, and you never gave me an answer. I know I’m not making it up.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “Oh. You mean the one you asked in front of your master when you were high on painkillers? I think I can remember that.”

He pulls away, making a face at her. “First of all, I was not that high. I was basically sober. Second, Obi Wan’s seen me way worse saying way dumber things, there’s no way he took it seriously.”

She arches a brow at him and he realizes his mistake, backpedaling. “Not that anything about this is dumb, stars no, ignore me. See, I say dumb things!”

She tries to look disapproving at him, but his panicked expression makes her crack into laughter, and now he’s just sulking. “I promise you, Padmé, I meant everything I said, and I won’t take it back.”

Her response surprises both of them. “Then ask me again.”

What am I doing?

To his credit, he doesn’t hesitate for a moment, taking up both of her hands in both his metal and flesh ones, looking deep into her eyes. She feels like she’s drowning in them. “Padmé, I love you more than the stars themselves. Will you marry me?”

She’s going too fast, is what she’s doing, but for Padmé at this moment, it feels like she’ll never need brakes again.

“Yes,” she breathes, filled with exhilaration from the speed high, and leans in for another kiss.

#part of me wanted to make them discuss the consequences of them actually marrying each other and what could happen #but i decided against that because the tragedy of these two is that they DIDN’T think things through like at all #they loved each other— or they thought they did —and they thought that would be enough #also this thing was getting long and i have other things i gotta write lol xD #so i’m just gonna tag this as #anidala #even tho it’s got like lowkey ot3 vibes #because for real most of my work involving the prequel trio will #BECAUSE I FIRMLY BELIEVE THAT IF THEY ALL GOT TOGETHER THINGS MIGHT HAVE ENDED HAPPILY DANGIT #gah #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #owl writes #my writing #owl gets an ask #star wars

11 notes · View notes

starlightbisexual · 7 years

Note

Hullo!!! Shy anon here, you're one of my favorite blogs so i was wondering if you happen to have any marvel fic recs? I'm running low and it's summer, so any fic would be appreciated (as long as it's not explicit). Any suggestions? ^^

hi love, you're so sweet thank you!!

i have about a million fics to rec so this might be a bit long and im gonna put it under the cut. personal faves are marked with an !!!

(when you say “not explicit” i took that to mean they’re not tagged as explicit on ao3. i cant promise that none of these fics contain sex/other mature themes. it’s probably best to always read the tags on each fic just to make sure!)

ofc this list isn’t exhaustive, just the first ones that popped into my head! if you or anyone else wants some more please come ask, i love discussing fics!

those on mobile: note the read more

slide to answer (mature, 6k)

“What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

lonely houses off the road (teen, 17k)

Barnes is now glaring at him for some reason. It’s somewhat terrifying but also, oddly, a little reassuring— because that’s emotion right there, which means there’s still somebody behind those eyes. Somebody who seems to think Sam is being a bit slow on the uptake. “Time parameters exceeded. Mission failed.”

“Wait.” Sam narrows his eyes. “Is this some kind of… report? Debriefing?”

“Mission report,” confirms Barnes, looking pleased. Well, looking slightly less murderous than before.

In which various people deal with things they never signed up for, but at the end of the day no one’s particularly surprised.

i love you like rlb (teen, 3k)

I love you like rlb has become a well-known, accepted and valuable component of American vernacular. The meaning of the letters ‘rlb’ is unknown, but is uniformly considered to be a statement of a great romantic love, commitment and sacrifice.

It was Dernier as first said it. Steve never imagined that something like that could have survived the war and all the years in between.

In which Tony goes insane trying to figure out why that phrase affects the Cap so much, Bucky teases the press, and Steve and Bucky love each other like rlb.

i was found and now i don’t roam these streets (mature, 15k)

They’ve decided to start producing Bucky Bears again, now that he’s all shiny and redeemed and fighting for good on this big Avengers misfits team. “He has a little shiny gray arm,” Bucky says, wiggling the stuffed arm in question, one of the tweaks made in the new model. It takes Steve a second to realize that Bucky’s got a small smile on his face, actually looks a little bit proud around the eyes.

Or, Bucky relearns himself and how to be on a team, the rest of the Avengers try to get answers, and everyone watches too much Criminal Minds.

roll on (mature, 89k)

In 1938, there’s a bar in Brooklyn called Sully’s where people are safe to be themselves. Behind the bar, a girl pours drinks. She’s always got a big smile for Steve and she says queer like it’s a good thing. On a regular basis, she takes his shoulders in her hands and tries to shake sense into him, saying, “When will you do something about that best friend of yours?”

In 2012, Bucky’s gone, but Steve’s not, and the girl’s hands are too old to shake him. She does her best to make him see sense anyway.

Steve had people who loved him before the war, and it turns out a few of them are still around when he finally comes home.

one cloud feels lonely (mature, 72k, !!!)

“I’m going to take a break for a while,” Steve said quietly, not looking at T’Challa, not knowing that this was what he was gonna do until the words were out of his mouth. “I can’t be on a team right now.”

T’Challa nodded as if he understood. “Alright.”

AKAIn which Steve and Bucky both figure out how to be a person again, and it still takes them over 130 years.

barnes & rogers and the goddamn truth (not rated, 18k, !!!)

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm.2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.)3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

asked and answered (teen, 5k)

“You should marry me, Bucky.”

“What?”

“You should marry me.” Steve said again. “Sister Eustace said that marriage is the purest form of love, and I love you more than anybody. So we should get married.”

Steve and Bucky. Five marriage proposals (and one time they didn’t have to ask).

1917 (mature, 15k, !!!)

Born on March 10th, 1985 at the Brooklyn Hospital Center, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was named after Sergeant Barnes, Captain America’s childhood best friend, who died when he fell off a train in the Swiss Alps.

In 2008, Peggy Carter donates to the Smithsonian letters Captain Rogers wrote to Sergeant Barnes in 1944—

After he fell.

Some lives are eternally entwined.

to be vunerable is needed most of all (mature, 118k)

Steve is a shy comic book artist and meets his new neighbour, Bucky Barnes.

In which there are awkward longings, meddling best friends, comic conventions, heartache, lemons, video games, dorkiness, dancing and two cute boys.

there should be stars (teen, 45k)

“All memories to tell you the truth aren’t good.But sometimes there were good times.Love was good. I loved your crooked sleepbeside me and never dreamed afraid.

There should be stars for great warslike ours. There ought to be awardsand plenty of champagne for the survivors.”- Sandra Cisneros

Or, it takes them decades.

fever dream (mature, 9k)

“Buck.” Steve says, soft as he can, so he won’t start to cough again. The light from the stove hits his face just right, makes his eyes light up bright, spring sky blue. Bucky’s head aches just looking at him.

1942, in fits and starts.

they say love is a virtue (mature, 22k)

“I have a bet,” Tony announces to the room. He stands up, repeating himself a few times so that everyone is forced to stop the game and look up at him. He looks straight into Bucky’s eyes when he goes, “I bet you fifty dollars that you and Steve can’t spend a whole week pretend married without realizing that you’re both in love with each other.”

the smithsonian guard (gen, 8k)

Bucky makes a friend.

cross this river to the other side (teen, 14k)

Here is the truth about Captain America and the Howling Commandos that every World War II historian must come to accept at one point or another: we will never know everything. We won’t even come close.

So much was lost with the untimely death of Captain America. While the man beneath the uniform sunk to the bottom of the North Atlantic, the myth lived on, only to grow bigger and more unwieldy as the years went by. Now, it is near impossible to tell fact from fiction, to separate out truth from propaganda.

In 1943, the Howling Commandos wrote goodbye letters to be given to their loved ones in the event of their deaths.

In 2014, Sharon Carter finds those letters in a tin can in an abandoned HYDRA base.

captain fantastic and the pineapple king (teen, 30k, !!!)

Shit.She hadn’t noticed him yet. Maybe he could turn and leave without them noticing – Sam would understand. Sam was the most empathetic person he knew. He wouldn’t scold Steve for coming home spice-less to avoid an awkward encounter with an ex. Surely.They drew closer.Fuck.Please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me…"Steve?”Fuck.In which Steve is saved from his ex in a grocery store, Bucky Barnes is Way Too Chill about absolutely everything, and Sam has had enough of all of these goddamn pineapples in his fucking house.Or: The five times Steve received a pineapple (and one Piña Colada) and the one time he didn’t

haha, jk (teen, 13k)

(A tale of Not Unrequited Love)

Steve: I love you.Bucky: oh no.(and other fallacies)

Bucky learns to never say never when it comes to the effect his best friend can have.

apes debemus imitari (we should imitate the bees) (gen, 15k)

Steve operates a fruit & veg stand at a farmer’s market. Bucky keeps bees and has started up a honey shop just opposite. They’re failing to get along. Steve gets along a lot better with the anonymous friend he’s been writing letters to. In fact, he’s rapidly falling for him.

it’s no coincidence (teen, 109k)

The kids immediately scream, “Trick-or-Treat” before they see who opens the door.

The strange resident looks between the two kids, then at the adults, and his eyes widen in horror.

“It’s October already?”

Okay, Bucky thinks. This guy is probably high.

don’t ask (mature, 21k, !!!)

Captain America and Bucky Barnes were like brothers. Everyone knew that.

most ardently (teen, 9k)

Baron Grant, nothing more than a small, sickly country gentleman with no fortune and very little to recommend him, has just poured a glass of claret over Duke Barnes, a wealthy lord with the world at his feet.

#answered #stucky #stucky fic rec #steve rogers/bucky barnes #stucky fic #captain america #the winter soldier #mine #fic rec

4 notes · View notes