#then situation forces his hand and he goes 'incredible violence it is then'

[botanycrewmember]

List of Shen Qiao’s incredible violence that lives in my head

(spoilers throughout the entire Qian Qiu/Thousand Autumns novel)

I've seen people complain that Shen Qiao should go apeshit or that he's too soft and forgiving, so I've compiled an (incomplete) list of the times Shen Qiao canonically goes apeshit/shows absolutely no forgiveness.

Beating up a gang of thugs while blind and threatening to poke their eyes out so they become just like him.

Castrating a serial r*pist. 

Stabbing a man through the heart with a branch.

Taking a group of people hostage and forcing them (with threats of grievous bodily harm) to eat all the food they dumped on the ground because hello, people are starving to death literally one city wall away, assholes.

Pushing an opponent he just killed to the ground because he decided the guy doesn’t deserve a dignified death. 

Threatening to cut people into smithereens and demonstrating how he would do it.

Straight up killing two would-be child-murderers in the span of 10 seconds. 

Condemning a man to a fate worse than death as punishment (twice). 

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Moi Devochki: Chapter 3

Warnings: cannon typical violence, Steves an asshole

Word count: 2463

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist

About two weeks have passed since the three of you have mated and by some skill and lots of pure luck you've all been able to keep anyone from finding out. Well, accept Yelena but she was definitely an exception. Natasha was dying to let Clint know, but she was afraid her best friends excitement would have that information quickly finding its way into the ear of every Avenger.

   The three of you are in the training room currently, Nat had brought you both here to train you in some more combat techniques. You both knew a few things, but she wanted to make sure her mates were both well prepared, she didn’t want to risk either of you getting hurt. 

   She demonstrates each move before having you try it out on each other. The current move Wanda is to replicate on you is a basic Armeyskiy Rukopashniy Boy(army hand to hand combat) move that Nat had learned from Spetsnaz, the Russian Special forces. All she had to do was disarm you of the rubber training knife without being ‘stabbed’. 

   You lunged at the other Omega, swinging the fake blade at her. She shifted into her defensive stance, her arms and hands ready. Or at least she thought they were ready but halfway through she forgets what her next move is, her hands fumble and the two of you end up colliding. You both fall to the floor below, the training mats softening your landing as Wanda ends up landing on top of you.

   She quickly tries to move, worried you might be hurt but your hands grab her waist keeping her close as you erupt in laughter. After a few seconds you can hear her laugh join yours, both of you finding the situation far more hilarious than you should have. 

Your Alpha chuckles as she watches the two of you. Normally she might repremaind you both for not taking training seriously but she knows she's had you in here for hours and that you’d both been trying your best and had even learned several new moves already, so she lets you all simply be in the moment. 

   Once your laughter dies down Wanda lifts her head to look at you, your eyes meet hers and upon seeing the sparkle of happiness in your eyes she can’t help but forget where you are as she leans down and kisses you. The joy of this moment is incredibly brief, however because Steve had walked in just in time to see Wandas lips meet yours.

   “Wanda! Get off of Y/n right now!” he shouts as he walks closer to you both

   The Omega, startled by the other Alphas presence immediately does as she's told, her eyes gluing themselves to the floor as she prepares to be reprimanded or punished. Your face contorts in concern until you remember Nat is with you, you know she’ll shut Steve up. Before he can get any closer Natasha is in front of him, a deep growl coming from her and he finds himself slightly startled as he had been so focused on the two of you he hadn’t noticed the other Alphas presence.

   “Nat, what are you-” he begins to say before getting cut off

   “Back off Rogers.” she growls out, causing confusion to show itself on Steves face

   He shakes his head, “They're both Omegas, behavior like that isn't befitting of two Avengers. They have to put a stop to whatever this is, now. And you know that.”

   He goes to move around her but her hand pushes firmly into his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “You won’t be going near them.'' Her tone leaves little room for argument, but Steve isn't known for backing down. He studies her a moment before he glances over her shoulder at you and Wanda, the two of you stand there obviously nervous under his gaze. She sees this and gets even angrier, ���Keep your eyes off my Omegas.” she says, shoving his chest.

   “Your Omegas?” he questions as his eyebrows shoot up, nearing his hairline. He tries not to let jealousy overtake him, he’d been interested in you for a few months now.

   “Yes. Mine.” she growls, pulling the collar of her shirt away from her neck, proudly showing off the marks the two of you left. He lets out a huff trying to calm himself, but Nat can sense the anger rolling off him in waves. 

   He shakes his head again, “That doesn't excuse this Natasha. They can’t be together.” his tone is harsh, and your Alpha bites back a snarl at his words

   “Like hell they can’t! They love each other, they love me and I love them. I’m their Alpha and I gave them permission to bond-” she begins to say before being interrupted

   “You let them do what?!” he shouts in disbelief. If you were his Omega he never would have let that occur and Natasha allowing it to happen was a huge mistake.

   Upon hearing all the growls and yelling Yelena, Bucky and Tony appear in the doorway. As soon as she sees her sister guarding you both from Steve she calmly walks into the room and stands beside the redhead. The look she gives the Alpha in front of her is cold and if eyes could kill, Steve would be a dead man.

   “Sestra, nuzhno li mne ustranit' etu problemu?(Sister, need me to remove the problem?)” she asks, tone as cold as her glare

   Nat smirks, “Tol'ko yesli vy khotite, chtoby(Only if you want to.)”

   Bucky hurries over to Steves side before the two blond Alphas start fighting, “Whats the problem here Steve?” 

   “The problem is them.” he says, gesturing to Wanda and you, you both flinch slightly. Yelena and Nat both growl at his tone and words. Buckys brow raises in question as Tony strolls up to the conversation. 

   “Now hold on a moment everyone. Let's take a few deep breaths and a few steps back from each other, alright?” he says as he gestures at the two pairs of Alphas. Nat grunts refusing to budge, so of course Steve stands firm, earning him a sigh from Bucky. “Or not. Someone at least care to fill me in?” Tony adds

   “Natasha let the Omegas back there bond with each other.” Steve says

   “They're my mates! Why does it matter to you what I allow them to do?!” she shouts, Yelenas hand on her shoulder the only thing keeping her from getting in Steves face.

   His fists clench and he sighs, “Because, it’s illegal for them to even be together let alone for them to bond. Not to mention it's unnatural, every Omega needs an Alpha.”

   “They have one dipshit! My sister is their Alpha, try and keep up!” Yelena shouts

   “That very well may be the problem.” he mumbles, and Bucky is really starting to fear for his friends safety.

   “What did you just say?” Nat growls, her eyes stare at him with such intensity that even Tony finds himself sweating.

   “I said you're the problem here Romanoff. They each need a proper Alpha of their own. They shouldn't have to be sharing, well, you.” he tells her, disgust in his tone. Now he had managed to even make you and Wanda mad, Natasha was a proper Alpha. So she was a female Alpha, that wasn’t a big deal to anyone younger than World War 2, Steve was obviously stuck in the past. Bucky however could finally see this for what it really was, his best friend was jealous that the redhead got your attention when he didn’t and he was angry that Nat had managed to claim you.

   Natasha growls at his words but she tries to let them wash over her, she tries not to partially believe that maybe he was right, maybe she wasn’t good enough for both or even one of you. 

   Yelena however, oh Yelena strikes. Her fist connects with Steves jaw with a crunch and surprisingly the super soldier stumbles back slightly. Tony flinches as he watches the punch and Bucky is quick to place himself in front of his friend, making his focus go from the two Russians to him instead. At least that was the plan, plans don’t always go accordingly though.

   A growl leaves Steve as he stands back up, nursing his split lip. “Now Steve, just hang on for a second ok? I think Yelena was well within her merits for that hit.” Bucky says

   Tony nods, “You did deserve it, you were quite rude to Nat.”

   “Telling the truth isn’t being rude.” he hisses through gritted teeth, attempting to push past Bucky, but Bucky holds him in place with his metal arm. 

   “What exactly are you getting at Rogers!?” Nat yells, her patience is incredibly thin at this point

   “Y/n deserves better than to have to settle for you as her Alpha! I could take much better care of her than you ever could! And if she was mine, I’d make sure she never saw you or Wanda ever again!” he roars. Wanda looks scared and she grabs a hold of your arm tightly, like Steve might rip you away and claim you for his own at any second.

   Natashas anger is incredible, “Y/n is my Omega, not yours! She chose me, they both chose me! Not you Steve, me! You will never take her away from Wanda or me and if you ever try I swear with everything in me that I will rip your head off!”

   Steve growls ready to fire back, but Buckys patience has run out. “That's enough Steve. Y/n’s made her choice, you have to accept it. Natasha is their Alpha and if she's alright with it then we really have no say in the matter.”

   “It’s not just about that! Stark, help me out here.” Steve looks to the billionaire

   “Don’t look at me. You dug yourself into this hole and at this point you're even burying yourself in it. Yeah, sure, technically it's illegal, but we all know that's a load of bullshit the Alpha lawmakers just don’t want to change because it potentially means less Omegas to mate with.” he replies

   “But they-” he begins

   Tony has also had enough of this and he can tell you and Wanda are incredibly uncomfortable and scared “Alright that's enough from everyone! The Omegas are absolutely petrified right now! Nat you take care of them, Steve stay the hell away from them. Bucky, keep him in line and Yelena, kick his ass if need be.”

   At Tonys words Natasha turns to you and Wanda and her face falls when she sees tears streaming down both of your faces as Wanda clutches onto your arm like her life depended on it. She hated that Steve was able to work everyone up like this instead of just accepting who you chose. She supposes it's not that easy though, she probably would be acting similarly if the roles were reversed. 

   Bucky manages to get Steve to leave with him and Yelena starts beating a punching bag to relieve some of her frustrations. Leaving Tony to watch your Alpha as she nervously watches the two of you instead of approaching.

   “Go on, they need you right now.” he tells her

   “What if he was right, what if I’m not a good enough Alpha for them?” she worries

   Tony places a hand on her shoulder and she looks at him, “Then two Omegas wouldn’t have let you claim them. They obviously think very highly of you to bond with you. And for Yelena to punch Steve, she must think you're something special. And you know what Nat, they're right.”

   She smiles, “Thanks Tony, I needed to hear that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of my mates.” He smiles as he watches her walk over to you both, enveloping you in a tight hug.

   She quickly gets the two of you back to Wandas room and settled in the nest. The three of you decided to make her room your permanent one for the three of you because you all wanted to keep the nest that was covered in the scents of all three of you from your first night together. 

   Wanda still has a tight grip on your arm so you gently cup her cheek and bring her gaze to yours, “It’s ok baby. I’m not going anywhere, Tasha made sure of that.” 

   “Yelena, Tony and Bucky too.” Nat adds, gently smiling at both of you.

   But Wanda still looks upset. “I was afraid he would take her from us.” she admits

   Your Alpha quickly brings you both close to her, “I’d never let that happen. I love you both so much.”

    “We love you too.” you and Wanda reply

   The three of you get comfortable and your Alpha turns on some sitcoms for Wanda to enjoy. You stay snuggled like that for a few hours, until there's a knock at the door. Nat gets up and opens it to find Bucky and Steve standing there, upon seeing the blond her lip curls in a snarl.

   “Why is he here?” she snaps

   Bucky raises his hands, “Easy Nat. I wouldn’t have brought him here if he meant any harm, you know that.”

   She nods, “Ok. So he’s here because?”

   “Because I’m sorry. I was very rude to you and I frightened your Omegas. I just…I really thought Y/n was it for me, and that doesn't excuse my behavior at all. I just wanted it known that I was running on jealousy and instinct earlier instead of using my head.” he explains

   “Yeah I kinda figured as much. I appreciate the apology, give us some time and I’m sure we’ll be able to forgive you as long as this was a one time thing.” she says

   “It was. Tell Wanda and Y/n that I’m sorry. They make a cute couple, and they deserve to be happy and not let my words or anyone else's hinder that happiness.” he replies

   “I’ll tell them. See you around Steve. Though you might want to stay away from Yelena for a while.” she says with a smirk

   He smiles, “Don’t worry, I learned my lesson. Don’t mess with Natasha or you get Yelena.” He and Bucky turn and walk off as Nat shuts the door and makes her way back to the nest.

   She fills the two of you in on the conversation and the two of you seem much more relaxed now. You both purr as you settle back into her and resume watching the sitcom. You spend the rest of the night cuddled together until sleep washes over you all.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @mommyluvu @404-almostdone @tarathia @ayoungexwife

[lethalchiralium]

Hi!! Can I request ghost one shot abt the reader having an abusive relationship (without ghost knowing he has a secret crush on her or smt), and when they are on a mission she tries to hide the bruises by saying that her bf is just drunk...thank u have a nice day!!

Innocent | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i do not condone domestic abuse - or any abuse at all. If you are in a situation like this, you are not alone. There are a lot of resources that could help you get out. Please stay safe.

a/n: sorry if it sucks, it took me a while to even finish this.

warnings: DOMESTIC ABUSE, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. I’M SERIOUS. cussing, mentions of violence, injury, bruising, domestic abuse that involves mental and emotional manipulation, simon just wants to help, he is crushing but also wants to kill the man who touches you.

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It was the dead of night on the second day of the mission, Artemis laid in prone position with her sniper dug into her shoulder. It was swelteringly hot, even with the moon rising - she took another quick glance in her scope and deemed the area clear before sitting up. She sighed out the dormant breath, stretching her arms outwards before pulling off her short sleeve to gaze at the long sleeve underneath it.

She looked over her shoulders, making sure the rooftop was empty before pulling back the tan sleeves, gazing at the brownish-black bruises in the shape of handprints that littered her forearms near her elbows. Her fingers barely grazed the skin, staring at the vicious outlines. The ice had done nothing to help them go away and she couldn’t ice them for that long anyway, she was gone in a mission six hours later. That’s why she found herself on the rooftop on watch, questioning why her boyfriend kept doing it if he loved her.

She pulled her sleeves back down, nails found her teeth as she stared out into the treeline. It had been quiet for the past four hours, no one had even dared to venture up to the roof to talk to her - she was thankful for it in some aspect. Gave her time to contemplate, time to just breathe. She hadn’t been relaxed since… well… before this stuff had started with her boyfriend.

She was convinced that he didn’t mean it, of course he didn’t, he couldn’t. He bought her flowers every Tuesday she was home, he cooked dinner every chance he got, he folded laundry when she did the dishes - he was perfect to her for the past two years, except for when he got drunk. And of course, he was an incredible lightweight, so if he went past two beers, she knew she was in for it. She had finally gotten him to stop going for her throat, only grabbing at her arms and legs, punching whenever he felt like it.

She was humiliated by it. A Special Forces Sergeant being beat up by her boyfriend every time she goes home was embarrassing, but she couldn’t leave him. She loved him, she was convinced that he loved her. Wouldn’t he come to his senses one of these days?

She yelped in pain when a hand grabbed her forearm, she ripped her arm away as she looked up to see the familiar skull mask above her. The hand moved away quickly, she moved away from his feet as he spoke, “Not on your game, Sergeant.”

“Sorry, LT.” She mumbled, instinctively tugging down the sleeves even if they were grazing her wrists. She sat back a little, watching as Ghost settled on the ground beside her.

“Gettin’ tired?”

“No, sir.”

He didn’t make another sound, pulling the rifle from her stand and taking a look at it. “Did you hurt your arm earlier?”

She didn’t answer, only staring at the ground.

“Show me.”

Her head moved up so fast she thought it was going to fly off, she babbled, “What? No, it’s fine, LT, I promise-“

He grabbed Artemis’ wrist, she squawked as he pulled up her sleeve, seeing the purplish-black outline of a hand print. And he was damn sure it wasn’t her hand. She tried to pry her wrist from Ghost’s grip, but he looked up at you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s nothing, I promise-“

“Please don’t make me order you.” His voice grew soft, the grip loosened and she pulled her arm away, eyes staring into the ground. “Was it one of the muppets back at base?”

“No.”

“One of the boys?”

“What? No, no- Ghost, please.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“No no, it was my fault, I was annoying him and he was drunk-“ She mumbled, feelings tears sting at her eyes as she pulled the sleeve down again. “He just gets drunk sometimes, that’s all.”

“Are you serious?” Ghost’s voice was low, his hand resting on his thigh. If she looked now, she could see how his hands curled into fists, notice the small difference in how his jaw was clenched so hard, he thought he might crack some teeth. But she didn’t. Kept her eyes on the floor, looking away from her lieutenant.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing, love.” He murmured, opening a hand and pressing his palm into his knee, forgoing trying to reach for her like his frozen heart wanted to. “No man who loves you should put his hands on you, ever hurt you.” He took a short breath. “Even if he’s drunk. That’s not love.”

“He loves me.” She spoke immediately after, her hands clenched into fists. “He brings me flowers, he cooks for me- he waits for me after every mission…” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “He proposed. He doesn’t ever mean to hurt me.”

He watched her with bated breath, letting her continue.

“We’re planning on kids. He told me he’ll get sober.” She felt the tears as they raced down her cheeks and onto her cargo pants.

“Would your kids deserve that kind of love?”

She froze. It took her a moment to turn and look at Ghost, his eyes out on the tree-line.

“What?”

“No kid ever deserves a father who beats ‘em, beats their mum. Doesn’t matter if he’s sober, love,” He settled the rifle back onto the stand and looked back at her. “He’ll always get violent. It’ll boil over ‘til he gets just mad enough that he puts one or both you and your kids in the hospital, even if he’s sober. That’s not fair.”

She sat there, stunned. Tears felt cold now as they dripped from her chin.

“Speaking from experience?”

He looked away, back to the treeline before lowly saying, “My father deserves to die. Haven’t gotten the chance to put the bullet in his head for what he did to my mum and brother.”

Artemis reached her hand out, placing her hand on his fist - his head turned to her. His brown eyes were wide, but she could barely see them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stay with that fucker. It’ll only get worse, it‘ll never get better.”

Her hand didn’t retreat; but her head lowered. “I don’t think I can leave, he always joked that he’d kill me if I tried to.”

“Sergeant, I really rather not see you in a civvy body bag ‘cause I wasn’t able to help you.”

She looked at her hand, his other hand gently settled on top of hers.

“I mean it. Let me help you, Missy.”

She looked to her lieutenant, a smile on her face. “What?”

“Your name is Artemis. Mis? Missy?” He answered, before continuing, “I’m not saying that you’re not good at aiming-“ He flustered over it but she just turned and looked up at the stars.

“Missy. I like it.” She nodded before looking back at him. “Only you can call me Missy, though. Letting Soap use it might go to his head.”

“Oh, didn’t know he had one.”

She laughed a little while Simon smirked under his mask. She looked back at the sky again, drawing the constellations in her head before she spoke, “Thank you, Ghost.”

“For what?” He asked, his eyes couldn’t move away from her, even as she kept her gaze at the sky.

“For being here for me today. And the other day.” Her voice wavered a little bit, yet she kept her gaze steady. If she could, she would’ve counted all of the stars in the sky - but she couldn’t. The tears were brimming at the side of her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can go with you.” He spoke quietly, eyes back on the tree-line. “In case he gets physical.”

He felt as her head rested on his shoulder, hand still sandwiched by his.

“I still love him.”

Ghost sighed, moving the hand from underneath hers to settle on her knee. “I know.”

“All of my future will go out the window.”

“I know, love.”

“What will I do?” Her voice wavered, more tears fell from her eyes. “Where will I go?”

“I’ll help you.” He whispered, eyes still on the perimeter, making sure they were safe. “You can stay with me at my flat.”

“I can’t ask that of you, LT.” Her hand squeezed his knee, he patted her hand.

“I’m offerin’, you won’t be a burden. I can guarantee that no one will put your hands on you again.” Ghost spoke it into existence, promising the universe that would kill for her. He looked down to her, meeting her eyes again and he wished he could’ve moved closer, feel what her lips felt like on his like he did in his dreams. “I’ll off the bastard if you want me to.”

She gazed at him, tears slowly stopping as she whispered, “Okay.”

“If you don’t, I won’t. I’ll make sure he’ll stay away, but know that he will get a bone broken for every time he ever put his hands on you.”

“Don’t hurt him.” Her voice was small, he could almost feel her tremble.

He shook his head. “He already crossed the line, love. My fists are called payback for a reason.”

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[pincushionx]

Been seeing some discussion on Hunter’s kill count so let me throw in my interpretation

…

Hunter isn’t some cold blooded killer. In fact in the show we see him avoid doing any messy work. Like having the owl gang try to kill the selkidomous or letting Luz and the Palismen go. Or the fact that during the fight with Amity he never did anything to imply he was trying to kill her, he didn’t even try restraining her. He just was trying to snatch the key and leave the entire fight. If anything, it was Amity pulling out the hurting and restraining moves lol.

But rather where I think there is violence was because of the inherent nature of the two missions. Mission 1 was him trying to kill the selkidomous, the only reason that didn’t happen was because there was people there to do it for him (even if they didn’t). So that makes me wonder, where there other beats killing missions he had to do? I’d imagine so, and I guarantee he didn’t have anyone to the work for him those times. So there’s that, Hunter killing some beasts.

Mission 2 was the palismen , and also before the mission we see him handing a palismen to Belos. So yeah, dude has probably taken ownerless palismen in the past, and has given palismen to Belos to kill and eat so theirs that. I don’t think he’s directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds of palismen but numbers do add up.

Also another thing I want to mention is direct responsibility, I’d imagine a lot of the violence or deaths caused by Hunter weren’t directly from him but the consequences of his job.

Now next is where we can be a bit imaginative, I pretty sure it’s stated in the show that Hunter only goes on missions on the weekends. So dude is pretty much just hanging out in the castle in the weekdays. That means he was probably doing paperwork, and considering he’s a coven head, he has a lot of power. So on the weekends rather than him going on missions, he was sending out scouts. That means anything that the scouts did, that he may have sent was also partially his responsibility. So if the scouts where to arrest, or kill any witches, then Hunter would likely feel at minimum partially responsible (I feel like he’d feel incredibly guilty as if he directly killed them)

Now for the actual mission, obviously he’s likely captured wild witches. While he was shown to struggle a bit but learn and adapt with palismen magic. When we see him with his artificial staff, he’s highly skilled with it. He fought pretty calmly with Luz and Eda at the shores and can travel a high speeds with it. I’d be more amazed if he didn’t manage to arrest anyone. Anyways, so here’s Hunter, he’s arrested some wild witches and he’s proud of himself. He takes them to the conformatium, he thinks that’s the end of it only for those witches to be privately petrified. We know that public petrifications hadn’t happened in 30 years but we see that they still happen in private.

It’s a bit dubious if we know if Hunter knew of these petrifications or not, much less arresting witches knowing they’re going to be petrified. But I think he possibly may have considering in Hollow mind he excuses those death of the sigil witches as just Belos perfecting sigil magic and literal terrorism for the greater good.

That’s where I think a kill count comes to play, that Hunter arrested wild witches knowing there may have been a possible chance of them dying. Therefore making him a factor for death. (Not to confuse with cause of death)

Another idea is him accidentally killing, like using too much force or miscalculating a spell. Another idea is killing in self defense. Assassinations aren’t much of a surprise in the castle so I don’t doubt there’s a chance that he may have killed an assassin or someone trying to cause bodily harm on him. Again a situation of a fight with a wild witch going too far. I don’t doubt a wild witch willing to fight Hunter to death knowing it was likely he was going to arrest them and lead them to a possible death.

One more, a messed up one but one that isn’t too out of character is having Belos having Hunter test his loyalty by being able to kill for him. Or Belos having Hunter kill someone in the privacy of the castle, like a traitor coven member (I doubt Raine and the Cats are the first to attempt a infiltration) Hence, where the context I was thinking of for this drawing actually comes from. (“May Titan have mercy on you”).

Again this is me just counting deaths and not any other potential violence he may have committed (not resulting in deaths. Even if someone doesn’t die, the violence inflicted upon them could still be life changing. The idea of Hunter giving someone a disability or trauma is pretty sad :( and not even impossible). Hunter in the show is pretty desensitized to violence in the way he talks about it or thinks of it in Any sport in a storm and Hollow mind.

So yeah, that’s my Hunter kill count, a couple if beasts, dozens of palismen and handful of actual witches, my guess 3-6. Could be higher but I’m trying to be a bit more realistic, even if I admittedly want to dramatize it lol.

Anyways that my rambles, anyone have their own thoughts on this?

[burst-of-iridescent]

now that i've finished my re-read of the hunger games books, it’s even more baffling to me than before that people compare everlark to kat.aang when they are so incredibly similar to zutara.

a fundamental aspect of everlark’s characterization is that they are star-crossed lovers. and while it's true that that is a gimmick the capitol forces on them, it’s also a reflection of the reality that peeta and katniss were never supposed to fall in love, let alone make it last.

from the very beginning, the odds are stacked against katniss and peeta. their class division keeps them apart in district 12, and in the games you're naturally not expected to do anything but kill your fellow tributes. what peeta does in loudly declaring his love and respect for katniss from the beginning is revolutionary because it goes against everything he's been told his entire life. saying he's in love with her and valuing his life over hers is absolutely radical in a situation that forces you to prioritize yourself and dehumanize your fellow human beings. and this framing of love as resistance is something that repeats itself in zutara's arc, in the catacombs where zuko and katara reach out to one another against everything that tells them to do otherwise, and again in the final agni kai when zuko gives up everything for a girl he had been told was nothing.

they’re love stories because they stem, first and foremost, from love for your fellow human beings — especially in the places where it shouldn’t exist. love for a starving child from a lower class whom you’re supposed to kill. love for a weeping enemy who represents everything you were told to despise. both zutara and everlark are about the importance of unity amidst division, about coming together when the entire world is trying to force you apart. about looking at the person you're supposed to hate and saying no, i refuse, and reaching out in love, in compassion, in empathy instead because you understand that they're not as different from you as you were taught to believe.

and this carries on to the other theme that both ships represent: the need to break the cycle of violence.

one of the main themes that underlies each of these characters’ narratives is how easily (and even justifiably) they could’ve perpetuated the harm that was done to them. peeta, katniss, zuko and katara have all suffered without cause, and it would have been understandable if any of them had let that suffering twist them into vengeance and inflicted it back upon others. it would have been encouraged even, in the societies they live in, for them to unleash their rage upon those seen as deserving of it. to become like zhao or hama or gale or president coin. but what defines each of these characters is that instead of allowing their suffering to overcome them, they choose to help — not harm — others, even the people they would have every reason to hate. that’s why katniss and peeta refuse the chance to hold another hunger games with the capitol’s children, why zuko helps an earth kingdom town, why katara risks the invasion itself to free a fire nation village from tyranny. all of them have been victims of unjust violence and oppression, sometimes even at the hands of other victims, and that’s exactly why they refuse to stand by or be complicit as others suffer the way they did. both everlark and zutara are about looking at the darkest version of yourself, the person you might have been, and refusing to go down that road. to understand that you are more than what your circumstances make you into. to choose kindness over hatred, peace over war.

at their core, both ships exemplify the themes of love and unity and holding onto your humanity against impossible odds. but more importantly, they exemplify hope. the dandelion in the spring. the fire that means rebirth instead of destruction.

choosing to do better, be better, make something better, together.

[notjustjavierpena]

Three Times You Didn’t Kiss Joel - And One Time You Did - Part III: Fussing

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A cute summer romance has started! Enjoy chapter three!

Summary: Joel punches a creep for you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 no smut but mature thoughts (minors DNI), violence, misogynistic behavior, pining, summer romance, DILF Joel, sexual tension, idiots in love

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47914783/chapters/120930880

Chapter Three: Fussing

It seemed that Joel fell into a habit of coming to the rescue more than a few times. The ankle incident was over after a little over a week, but only because Joel would make sure that you had grocery shopping done by either himself or Sarah, so you could relax on your couch or in your bed as much as possible. 

Sitting at home with horrible television had caused a severe case of cabin fever. You had gone out to socialize at the first chance you got, but ended up sitting alone in a booth without high expectations for the night. That was until a stranger had asked for your number and when you had politely declined, much to the guy’s dismay, his flirty attitude had crumbled and evolved into something creepy. 

You twirl your phone in your hand. Joel had given you his number during the ankle incident, which you had texted a few times with a grocery list, but otherwise not at all.

Until now.

You have sent him a text message saying that he needs to come fetch you, because you’ve been drinking and you have unwanted attention. Normally, you would have handled these kinds of situations by texting your best friend, but she isn’t from town and you just want to get out of there now. You’ll never hear the end of it from Joel, you know this, but you reckon it has less to do with you and more to do with the fact that he is the father of a teenage girl. Something about being a role model. 

“Sorry, I’m really not interested,” you say as you pocket your cell phone again. You give the man a polite smile, but he doesn’t turn to leave. Instead, he starts up a conversation about his job which is apparently something that earns him a lot of money. 

You keep up the forced conversation to not make a scene but try to sound bored. There is no point in upsetting the man in front of you, because it’ll trap you here and make it unsafe to leave if you really, really wanted to. You’re not sure how he doesn’t read into the fact that you don’t ask him any questions like an interested person would.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I could get you one of those with a curly straw, tiny umbrella,” he grins.

“I’m sure. No thanks.”

“Come on. It’s just one drink, and I’d like to get to know someone as sexy as you,” he goes on. 

You grimace, “I’m not looking for company like that, sorry.” 

“Oh, don’t be so boring, sweethea—“

“She said beat it,” Joel’s voice booms from beside you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as if he has been in a hurry and he pants just slightly from what you assume is suppressed anger. 

Seeing him makes relief wash over you in an instant, and you fall back into the background to let him handle the situation. You don’t like the idea of him having to rescue you from something like this, but you cannot help but feel a little more in love with him as he prepares to put the guy in his place.

“Dude, sorry, didn’t know she was taken,” the guy holds up his hands in surrender, but the alcohol on his breath and the smirk on his face tells you that whatever he is planning to say next will earn him a few stitches. He looks Joel up and down, measuring him somehow and makes an attempt at a joke, “What’d she cost if I were to have a go? An offer of a drink didn’t do the trick.” 

“What the fuck did you just say?” You get out of your seat incredibly fast but Joel is faster, and you hear the sound of knuckles connecting with bone; Joel has gripped the stranger’s shoulder with one hand and landed his fist on the side of his face, right at the jaw.

The other stumbles backwards, but he doesn’t hesitate to run forwards into Joel and land a punch right back. He uppercuts him, and you squeak as Joel is now the one to stumble back into you. The two men fly at each other’s throats like animals in a pack in the next moment, landing several punches at each other. 

“Stop! Jesus, Joel— you can’t get into a bar fight,” you say as you start pulling them apart by tugging on Joel’s t-shirt, or at least you try to, but the bartender has already sent a doorman in your direction.

Joel pulls down his shirt as he is yanked by the collar. He forces the doorman off only to hold up his hands, palms outwards, shoulders tense and voice stern, “Fine. Fine. I’m leaving with her now. You don’t have to grab me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to the bouncer. He goes to your creepy romancer instead, tugging him by the arm to remove him from the bar. 

“You’re a fucking ugly bitch anyway,” he spits venomously at you as he passes you when he is forced to leave. You send him a death-stare, mouthing a ‘fuck you’ back at him.

Joel stays where he is until he gets your clue to leave, looking down at his shaking fist as if he is surprised at what he has just done, but you lay a hand on his arm and guide him outside, then in the opposite direction of the human embodiment of your failed attempt at having a good night out. 

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles without looking at you but you find yourself reaching out to gently take a hold of his chin, turning his head to inspect him. He has a nasty cut on his cheekbone, and it’s already starting to bruise from how heavy the impact has been to the blood vessels in his face. 

You gasp, “Joel. Your face.”

“This tiny thing? S’alright, it’s nothing,” he reaches up to touch it, but regrets it immediately. It looks like it stings. 

“Stay right here, I’m going to get you some ice from the bar,” you leave for a moment. For once, it’s your turn to not let him protest and argue. 

You return with an ice pack that you’ve made by wrapping a handful of ice cubes into a dish towel. You press it against his cut and he hisses softly, causing you to tut. He lets you fuss. 

You can feel his defeat is nagging at him; the fact that he is in pain and not perfectly fine seems to annoy him. That, and it feels like he has overstepped one of his own moral boundaries. You wonder if you’re right in your assumptions because it raises the question of how he feels about having overstepped that limit for you. 

“Are you okay, hon’?” He asks and interrupts your train of thought. You turn the dish towel to find a spot that isn’t pink with blood, then dab his face a few more times as you come up with an answer. You won’t comment on the term of endearment. 

“I’m okay. I’ve dealt with assholes before,” you say with a little smile, “Thanks though. You made the situation a lot easier, but I still don’t think you should’ve started fighting the poor guy.”

“Why? Don’t want to be the damsel in distress?” He teases. 

“You know, I can make this hurt a lot more than it already does, mister,” you say with a playful laugh, accompanied by a twinkle in your eyes, “So try me.”

“Let me take you home,” he just answers softly. You wish he meant those words in a different way. 

*

The car ride home is silent except for the quiet hum of the pop music coming from the radio. You look at Joel out of the corner of your eyes, and he drives with a controlled kind of calmness and only one hand on the steering wheel. His other hand rests on the gear shift and you could touch him if you dared, but you don’t and you don’t think you ever will. 

When he parks the truck in his driveway, he offers to walk you to your door despite it being only a few houses away. When you decline, he insists and his southern drawl becomes a little more present as he fusses. 

“Thanks again, Joel,” you say as you fumble through your bag for your keys. Joel is standing right beside you, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body in the cool summer night air. 

“I did give you my number to call if you were ever in trouble,” he replies matter-of-factly. 

You finally fish out your keys, but after unlocking the door and opening it halfway, you decide to turn towards Joel again. It catches him a little by surprise and he takes a step back, but you find yourself thinking that he is just as far away from you as before. Had he stepped closer whilst your back was turned? 

“Anyway,” you say but then trail off. You shift a little where you stand, expressing nervousness and looking up at him through your eyelashes. Making a move right now could make or break your relationship, but the way he looks underneath the starry sky is almost too much. There’s a dull ache in your body, starting in your chest and going downwards. 

“Anyway,” he eventually repeats and gives you a sort of boyish smile as he points to his face. The homemade ice pack is still in his car or you would have told him to use it straight away, “Let’s not do it again sometime.” 

You laugh genuinely at his joke, cheeks getting a soft rosy tint. He looks at you with a chuckle of his own, and you’re not quite sure about what his eyes are telling you.

“Goodnight, Miller,” you say and choose the easy way out of the situation. You move, head inside and peek out just before closing your front door, “And don’t act like you wouldn’t wanna do it again.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[myrmica]

"but you Know it would bother the fuck out of minutetech" i actually don't, i almost only know s5 stuff from youtube videos (which are youtube videos) and tumblr posts (which... do not give me an impression of evenhanded comprehensiveness... 😂) and i can't form personality assessments in these conditions. ..i can't form personality assessments in any conditions possibly, idk bye bye items has completely thrown me for a loop. i thought i had! a reasonable assessment! it was not that!! more like the opposite of that!!

hehe yeah that's fair, the tumblr posts are definitely not comprehensive (though i will say if you do want some insight into minute's character this one is great.)

essentially what i was saying is just like, in this video mapicc frames it as a situation where minute was using his presidency solely as a powergrab, with his ultimate goal being to ban everyone besides his own team. the powergrab thing isn't... Strictly Untrue? but his stated goals are being wildly misrepresented, and mapicc is taking a clip way out of context to support that idea. he glosses over minute's entire character arc, an arc that heavily involves minute and the rest of pb&j positioning themselves as "heroes" in opposition to The Players (most confusing lifesteal team name of all time, requiring clarifying notes such as this one every time you mention them) as "villains."

what actually happens is that pb&j are slowly worn down and backed into a corner where they end up crossing the very lines they said they would never cross, the ones they staked their claims of "goodness" on; banning people when they said they wouldn't, when their goal was always to achieve a "peaceful ending." and over time, they're forced into using violence to achieve such an ending, as if that wouldn't render the goal null entirely. mapicc's video framing, on the other hand, just treats it like he's "the hero" and minute is "the villain" in a very cut and dry way, invoking none of the textual struggle over exactly that which comprised most of late s5's plot. like i said, harder to summarize but definitely more interesting.

....and it would (i assume anyway, i don't have an omnipotent window into minutetech's internal world) bother minute so bad because pb&j refuse to acknowledge that they've failed to bring about a peaceful ending or that they might not be the ones in the right down to the very last second of season 5. and as the post i linked earlier goes into, minute is someone who seems to Really, Really care about how people see him:

(shoutout jest piercingclowns)

so... mapicc treating it like minute was always the obvious villain is an incredibly funny thing to do. he even lists the fact that minute "added mods that would crash the server" as one of the points against him, and when zam made this same point to minute on stream, his reaction was "but that's not part of the roleplay, that's out-of-lore, you can't bring that up here!"

and THAT plays (intentionally or not) into the entire thing the pb&j vs. players conflict is about at its core, the idea that pb&j are trying to do something that goes against how lifesteal functions in seeking a peaceful ending, without conflict, without the thing that drives a story. and they're forgoing rp etiquette to do so, in favor of ruthless competition. in light of all that, the way mapicc frames it fully comes off as Youtube Video Warfare. to me anyway.

[leinco]

Random idea for an IF that popped into my head

I don't know if I've ever talked about this but my mind tends to wander. While working on Onryō, my mind got distracted as usual. And I ended up coming up with this Idea for an IF that I quite love. Of course, Onryō is my main focus, and I would want to finish that first before seriously beginning work on this, but I just wanted to ensure the idea was out there and to see what people thought.

(Please note, this is all subject to change. I still haven't worked out all the details, but the core idea is set.)

18+ due to violence, sexual implications, and other themes that may be triggering.

This idea stemmed from me wanting to combine my two favourite genres: Superpowers and Sci-Fi, so here it is:

Working title: Child of Sin

Your father is the Galaxy's most infamous supervillain. He is responsible for many incidents on planets across the Galaxy. You are the youngest child of 4, and while your father does love you dearly, the thing is, he is a supervillain. So naturally, you are expected to be a pawn in his plans.

The first half of the game will involve you accompanying your siblings on expeditions to various planets to train your powers (your powers will be able to be selected from a list of three, of which your Father has them all), and to just generally sow chaos. Saying that, here are the characters: Earl Astatine: Patron of the GAFEE (Galactic Alliance For Evil Enthusiasts.) Your Father, Earl Astatine (real name unknown.) Is the most infamous and powerful supervillain in the galaxy. He is famously hot-headed, yet can back up his words with his immense combat skill. Despite his short temper, he is highly intelligent, and the plans he cooks up have brought many a planet to it's knees. He has the powers of Telepathy, Pyrokinesis, and Telekinesis.

Rose: The gentle and loving oldest sister with thorns.

Your oldest sister, Rose. She inherited telepathy from your father. She is the one who took care of you as you grew up, and as a result is the closest to you. But she treats you like a baby in need of protecting. It's up to you whether you prove her right or wrong.

Despite her gentle nature, when matters do not concern her siblings, she is incredibly cold and calculating. She frequently speaks in metaphors, and sometimes acts as tactical advisor to the GAFEE. However, she is is still skilled with an energy blade. If anyone dares threaten her siblings, especially her beloved youngest sibling, their blood will run in the streets.

Gabriel: The second oldest. An angel of blood and love.

Your only brother, Gabriel. He inherited telekinesis from your father. Backdoor deals, political assassinations, one-night-stands. Gabriel is a diplomat at heart, and is perhaps more ruthless with his words than his powers. On any one occasion, a crowd of love-struck men and women can be seen following after him, proclaiming that he told them "You're the only one for me, sweetheart!". (He told that to all of them.)

But he is no stranger to getting his hands bloody when the situation calls for it. If a backdoor political deal goes wrong or out of his favour, the next day the police might just discover a body crushed by intense force. He is fond of his youngest sibling, but mostly lets Rose coddle you.

Carina: The third oldest. The flame warrior with a heart of fire.

Your second sister, Carina. If there was one of your siblings who inherited your Father's arrogance and hot-headedness, it is most definitely Carina. Combine this with the fact that she inherited his Pyrokinesis, and you have a recipe for destruction the likes of which most planets have never seen.

Along with her axe forged from a dying star, she is without a doubt the strongest fighter of your siblings. Unfortunately, her temper often gets her into arguments with your elder siblings, though she does try and hold back against you. But she is content to let your siblings and father make the plans, so long as she gets to burn something.

I am not sure if I will add romance options at this point, as I want the IF to be a sort of slice-of-life focusing on relationships between siblings in a situation such as the one I have presented, but it is not off the table.

Along the way, you will be able to choose which sibling you are closest to, if you dislike them, etc. You will also be able to decide whether you want to betray your father, or work wholeheartedly with him. Depending on your relationships with your siblings, you might be able to convince them to join you if you choose the former option.

The final half of the game will involve your Father's quote on quote, biggest plan to date, and this is where you will have your right of passage as an official member of the GAFEE. Betray, or serve. What is more important, Family, or Obedience?

I hope you like this idea as much as I do!

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

It's a highway to hell but, oh the things we do for love (2)

This fic is a Greek mythology au. This fic includes: betrayal, attempted human sacrifice, violence, choking, character death, cursing, forced marriage, mentions of nightmares, references to Greek mythology, enemies to lovers, and manipulation.

Tagging: @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @greep215

Chapter 2

Needless to say, once Hades’ words sunk in, you did not take the god’s proclamation well.  Midway through your tirade, the god held up a hand with a quick look in your direction and disinterested expression on his face before returning his gaze to a pocket watch that sat in the palm of his large hand. 

“It’s late and I have other pressing matters which demand my immediate attention.” You felt your anger rising again at his casual dismissal of your words.

“So then, Your Majesty,” your tone was mocking.  “What do you suggest we do to resolve this situation?  I’m certain that you don’t want to be in this situation any more than I do.”

“It is a bothersome situation,” the King agreed, pocketing his watch.

“Bothersome is not the word I would use,” you seethed.

“Do you really think that it is wise to antagonise the only deity who has the resources to help you?”

As much as you wanted to reply that until roughly fifteen minutes ago, you had no idea that the god standing in front of you even existed, you held your tongue because although you were reluctant to admit it, he had a point.  The faster you accepted his terms and help, the faster this whole marriage business could be dealt with and you could return to your normal life.

“I am glad to see that you are capable of seeing sense.”  Hades held out his hand.

You inhaled, counted to ten and placed your hand in the king’s.  You also pretended not to see his impatient demeanour.  Your surroundings started to spin slowly but they gradually picked up speed until the colours blurred together so quickly that you were forced to squeeze your eyes shut otherwise you thought you would be sick.

When you felt the world stop spinning, you cautiously cracked one eye open and upon realising that you weren’t in any immediate danger, you opened the other.  The king promptly withdrew his hand from yours as if it was poisonous.

Hades waved his hand and a suit of armour appeared from thin air, “Yes, my king?”

The god faced you, “The spell binding us together in marriage will be weaker here.  This suit of armour will guide you to the room that you will be using for the duration of your stay here while I attend to my kingdom’s matters.  Do try and keep up with it; it will not stop to wait for you.”

With that, the king strode in the opposite direction.  At the same time, a series of clanging noises alerted you to the fact that the suit of armour was indeed moving down the hall without you.  Gnashing your teeth and balling your hands into fists, you ran after the suit of armour.  It was moving surprisingly fast.

After you caught up to the suit of armour, you slowed down to a walking pace and it seemed as if you were walking for hours and hours but in reality it was probably only five minutes.  Just as you were wondering how you would navigate these corridors in the future without a guide because the idea of being cooped up in your temporary quarters didn’t appeal to you at all, there was an incredibly loud scream and a whoosh of air that knocked you backwards off of your feet and onto the ground.  At the same time, there were several bangs and bits of armour fell around you.

“Well, that’s just great.  There goes my guide.”

There was a second whoosh of air.  Then a third.  The fourth whoosh of air was less intense and the fifth whoosh of air was about as intense as a tiny gasp of wind.  

You raised yourself into a crouching position and then pushed yourself onto your feet.  A doorway appeared in what was once a blank section of the wall on your left and a small girl walked through the doorway.  The girl couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

She had a round face, shoulder length dark hair (you noticed that it was the same shade as the king’s) and multicoloured eyes that constantly changed colours.  One minute they were brown, the next they were golden and then within a heartbeat they had changed to a light grey.  The girl clutched a stuffed dog in her tiny hands.  The stuffed dog looked like it was modelled after a mastiff or a Great Dane but the toy dog had longer ears than a Great Dane and a leaner body than a mastiff, so you couldn’t say for certain what breed of dog the toy was modelled on.

The girl rubbed her eyes with her free hand and then her nose.  Tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto the ground below her.  You stepped forwards because you wanted to comfort her but the girl shrunk backwards and cradled her toy dog to her chest.

You held up your hands and stepped back.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  You knelt down with one knee touching the ground so the both of you were the same height.

Still cradling her dog to her chest, she focused on your bent leg.  Gradually, her eyes moved upwards until they met your own.

“Lo,” she managed in a wavering voice.  “My name is Hecate but you can call me Abigail.”

“Hello Abigail, my name is (Name).”

“Can you take me to the king?  I had a nightmare.”

“I’ll do my best.  I just arrived here so I might need some help finding my way.” 

You meant that you would try and find another suit of armour to guide you to Hades but Abigail interpreted your words differently.  She lit up.

“We can play a game!” She uttered enthusiastically.  “I’ll guide you through the corridors by saying hot or cold.  Come on!”

She held out her hand and you took it.  Your guide eagerly led you through three corridors before she stopped at the entrance to the next hall.  You had hoped that there would be some clue that you were going in the right direction but unfortunately all of the halls and corridors looked exactly the same.

Abigail let go of your hand and nodded at you, “I’ll catch up when you get warmer.”

You started to walk down the hall and from behind you, you could hear Abigail calling out.

“Cold, cold, cold, warm, cold, cold, cold, frozen.”

She had just finished saying the n for frozen when you reached the other end of the corridor.  Perplexed, you spun around to face her and saw that she was shaking her head.

Frustration overtook your confusion and you walked back to her.  “Cold, cold, cold, warm.”

This time you stopped the second that she said warm and you looked from side to side.  There was nothing on either side of you that indicated that you could reach the king of the underworld by walking in that direction.

Abigail let out a giggle, “You can’t take anything for granted here.  This realm has magic and it obeys its own laws.”

The second she said that you remembered the doorway to her room that had appeared in a blank stretch of wall.  You looked from side to side, trying to choose whether you would turn to the right or to the left.  On an impulse, you chose the right side and you pivoted on your heel so that you were facing that side of the wall.  With your hands raised, you stepped towards the wall and just when you thought that your hands would make contact with the wall, they passed through open space.

You swivelled your head so that you were gazing at Abigail who was grinning.  “What way are you going to go now?”

“To the right.  I’ve got a good feeling about the path to the right.”

The girl ran towards you and grabbed your hand again, “Let’s go!”

In no time at all, you reached a set of large ornate doors.  Even without Abigail informing you that this was Hades’ throne room, you would have guessed that this room was important especially since there were three suits of armour guarding the doors.  The way that they stood, the suits of armour formed a triangle with their backs towards the heavy doors.

As you approached, the suits changed position.  They turned their backs to you and the two suits on either side of the middle one reached for a thick metal bar while the suit in the middle grasped the knockers.  They pushed in unison for a couple of seconds and then the two suits on the ends let go and the suit in the middle continued pushing the doors until they were completely open.

Once the doors were open, a suit of armour stood in front of the left door with another suit mirroring it on the right.  The suit of armour that had pushed the doors completely open stepped towards the suit on the left in order for you and Abigail to enter the room.

“What is the meaning of this?”  Hades inquired.  You felt a brief stab of annoyance at the fact that he wasn’t disinterested with Abigail’s appearance like he was with your attitude in the cave but then, you reminded yourself that Abigail was a child compared to him, he’d known her for longer and you were being a bit mouthy in the cave.

“I had a nightmare and I wanted to come and find you.  I met (Name) along the way and we played a game.”

The king met your eyes with an interested expression, “Oh?  What game was that?”

You smiled, “Abigail taught me to navigate the halls by saying warm and cold.”

“I taught her that.”

“And now I taught (Name).  Can I have a story?  Pleeease?  You tell the best stories and I have no problem sleeping after.”

It felt like your heart was melting as you watched Abigail behave like a child, forgetting for a moment that she was also a powerful goddess.

Hades let out a low chuckle, “Very well.”  He sat down on the throne in the middle of the room and Abigail immediately jumped onto his lap.  You edged forwards until you were level with the stairs that led up to the throne.  You didn’t want to push your luck so you sat down on the bottom step and gazed up at a content Abigail and a Hades that appeared less like a god and more like a man.

“So you are aware, I will not carry you to your room if you fall asleep during my story.” 

 “Just when I was starting to like him.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[kiyaar]

Steve being forced to torture Tony by the bad guys. Tony either knowing Steve’s being forced or Steve isn’t allowed to tell him.

Maybe an Avenger HAD to volunteer and they don’t have someone like Natasha on the team, so Steve is the closest to a baseline human on the team and is the least likely to harm him more then necessary. Steve volunteering because he feels responsible, Steve volunteering because he’s the one that has watched the most amount of tortures of the team (on his orders no less, right Commander? Maybe it’s justice that he now has to get HIS hands dirty for once), Steve volunteering because Tony maybe thinking Steve WANTS to do this one way or another, STEVE learning that maybe there was part of him that wanted to? Trying to keep that raising feeling/fear at bay

Steve trying to make Tony hurt without causing lasting damage. Maybe the bad guys are knowledgeable enough to know if Steve is doing a good enough job and so that fact is hanging over Steve’s head, that he has to do it RIGHT or if he doesn’t hurt Tony enough they’ll take over and make it even worse or lasting. Maybe the bad guys are actually more lucky and sadistic and dumb, and knowing these idiots are the ones making Captain America torture Iron Man is another layer of maddening

Steve trying not to let all the times Tony has hurt him make his hands heavier on the knife, Steve trying not to let the image of Tony bleeding and begging (is he playing along or is Steve really hurting him so bad?) send HIS blood south, because this version of Tony is just SO pretty, red has always been his color

(Is this torture for information? For sadistic pleasure? Is there a goal? Or are they just running out the clock?)

reading this has me realizing it's hard for me to situate an abstract forced-to-torture-their partner situation without substantial plot scaffolding. like. who is the bad guys. what are the stakes here. is it about tony and tony alone or is tony shorthand for failing to protect the world at large. i think there are a lot of situations where steve would be like. lol. fuck you. at someone who is like. i can hurt tony or you can hurt tony. because steve knows what is a weapon and who is wielding the weapon. and i think 616 steve's ideas about 'am i complicit' in this are uncomplicated. like yes. i made war. i killed people. it was atrocious and the times were atrocious and i hope i don't have to go back there again but i will if i'm called. and i also think - i know this is contentious - i think that the panel of him from secret avengers is true to his character and honest in a way i wish more people would engage with when thinking and writing about steve. like. there are realities about what goes on when you are the special glutes boy king of black ops after 9/11 in the united states. like the panel of him walking away. we see his back. he's leaving the dirty work to his friends. specifically nat (implied). is he absolving himself of the dirty work? i don't think so. his orders, his responsibility. but i think he knows about the boundaries between what he's capable of and what he lets himself do. what he stops himself from doing. but he is a pivotal cog in a system that perpetuates violence. 'we don't torture people.' okay. you don't. but your organization does. people you handpicked for your team do, have done, as a matter of institutional policy. even if you say no! stephen. someone is going to take him downstairs and do it for you. steve is powerful and has political and social and superhero caché but he cannot stop the world from turning. this is also why i find it incredibly stupid when writers are like. steve was in wwii but he doesn't kill! okay. are you sure? this isn't a mel gibson movie. i actually know someone who went to jail for being a conscientious objector. that is not steve rogers (616). i also know about physics and he is severing spines with that shield, baby. they are not walking it off. like. i'm sorry. it's not fucking realistic. he ran all over the globe with the invaders and steve 'i have anger issues' rogers came away from that experience being one of the more emotionally well-adjusted surviving members of that team.

steve. to me. is a man who has, a long time ago, in a world no one else (okay, except his 3-4-5-6-7-8-9 plausibly implausibly alive friends) remembers at this point, learned things about himself, and his character, and what he was willing to do and what he was willing to do it for. and he made that his whole personality and then he fucking locked it away. and it's deep in there. like it's in his bedrock but you don't really see what's in the bedrock unless you use sonar or you drill all the way into it and take core samples. i don't think steve is a pacifist. i don't think steve craves violence. i don't think he struggles with the violence we see him doing on a daily basis. i think he thinks in tiers of evils, greater, lesser. i think he knows that he is a human and not a god. and sometimes you have to stop another human's heart so you can keep living. it's pretty bad. that's why he's an olympian-level bottler. so. to bring this back. i think there are like less than 10 situations where i can see steve willingly picking up a knife to put it in tony's body. metaphorical knife. he'd have to be really hopeless. i think there would have to be no backup on the way. i think tony would have to be in danger of permanent disfigurement or disability. losing a limb. losing a primary sense. dying slowly and painfully. i do think steve could handle doling lesser violence to tony in the face of that level of threat but i think there is a line that i know in my heart that he would try not to cross and if he crossed it he would spend the rest of his life not forgiving himself because tony is his precious touchstone in a world that continues to not fucking make sense. incidentally sins of omission has become the length of 3 SFF novels and the last one includes steve being forced to do terrible things to tony, but it is truly a 'there is no light left in the world' extreme situation. i can't say more. but fwiw that is the sort of setup where i enjoy this trope most. very long. very steady foundation. very upsetting when most narrative structures build towards hope.

[dontgofarfromme]

So I think Kinnporsche uses the vegaspete relationship in a REALLY interesting way to make explicit and horrifying both the abuses of power and restriction of autonomy Porsche experiences and how much he and Kinn are under the family's (Korn's) control in the series. Kinnporsche the relationship appears at a brief glance to evolve into something good and positive for both parties but the parallels with vegaspete force you to recognize the immense complications in this relationship and the fact that it's probably always going to be fraught as long as they are under the Theerapanyakun household.

Porsche is coercively brought in as a bodyguard in the first place because Korn wished it, and tries to leave multiple times, but because a lot of these instances are sanctioned by Korn, most of them (with the exception of the jailbreak with Vegas) feel less like escape attempts, especially when he, for instance, returns with Kinn willingly. When you hold them up against Pete's capture by the minor family and explicit, desperate attempts to escape the violence he's facing, it's a lot easier to recognize the similarities in their situations, especially when Pete, too, willingly returns to captivity for Vegas.

This goes right down to the way their first sexual encounters play out--both Porsche and Pete appear to be assenting to what's happening, but it's clear in both situations that neither of them are capable of saying no should they have wanted to, pulling a really sinister undercurrent through what would appear completely isolated from context to be mutually agreed upon actions. Once again, the physical image of the chain returning to Pete's wrist following sex makes explicit the inability to consent, which is more ephemeral in Porsche's case which has no explicit threat of captivity or violence.

More than this even is the intrusion of family politics on these relationships: Kinn's chastisement by his father regarding what the implications of his liason with Porsche might be to his other men lead to him ordering Porsche disciplined, and despite the growing connection between Pete and Vegas, censure from Gun leads to him choking Pete, the first time to our knowledge that he has raised a hand against him since they began to build a tentative understanding of each other. Korn uses soft, persuasive manipulation and questioning of Kinn's leadership to bring his son under his control, and Kinn responds by laying out consequences for Porsche at arms length from him, something he orders but does not observe. Once again the causal chain of this abuse of power and control is spread in a somewhat intangible way despite the fact that the ultimate result is once again the degradation of the basic human respect and kindness Porsche is owed. In looking at the actions of Gun on Vegas and Vegas on Pete, however, the thread becomes clear: Gun hits Vegas, and despite whatever care or growing trust they had before, Vegas responds by lashing out at Pete. The actions are explicit, violent, and force you to both reckon with them and to look back on what you think you have made your peace with in Kinn and Porsche's relationship and consider again what the implications of it might be.

I think ultimately, what really clinches this parallel is the incredibly dissonance in the end of the series, the way once again Kinn and Porsche are framed from a first glance level to be happy and whole and together happily. However when you look carefully at what occurred in Nampheung's room and parallel Porsche and Pete, the extent of the darkness in that ending becomes clear. Porsche takes the family ring, a marker of new responsibility but something that will also allow him to remain close to Kinn. However in the same scene, Pete has left the room removing his markers of belonging to the Theerapanyakun family, explicitly quitting and distancing himself from what is the ultimate origin of the abuses of power he has seen and experienced.

The understanding of Pete's choice and actions highlight just how heavy Porsche's choice (non-choice, really, in this situation, because when Korn offers you leadership of the minor family when the corpse of the previous leader's is still warm on the floor with his bullet in its head who are you to say no), is, the fact that he is binding himself tighter to something that Pete has just chosen to separate himself from at great emotional cost. Everything that follows is overshadowed by this and the parallels laid out in bright contrast--Pete, as free as one can possibly be from the Theerapanyakuns and with the freedom to go his own way at any time, with Vegas, injured and no longer tied to the Minor family's leadership or his fathers' wishes; and Porsche, inescapably bound to the Theerapanyakuns, with Kinn who loves him but is unable to deny his father anything, utterly beholden to the system he wanted nothing to do with in the first place.

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[after-witch]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Your demon lord captor presents you with an unusual and unexpected gift.

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped,  blood/violence

Your captor seems unusually on edge--he has been since this morning, when he soundlessly bid the group to pack up camp and began trekking further into the forest much swifter than usual. You don't know why. He wouldn't tell you, even if you dared to ask. So you didn't ask, and merely helped Rin roll up your supplies in a pack, ignoring the way the growing tension in the air made your skin prickle.

You don't know much of anything lately, except the feeling of the ground under your feet as you relentlessly walk from place to place, bound to go where he goes. Being carried on the strange demon beast is no longer a terrifying prospect but a welcome reprieve from the endless marching. You’d walked more in the past months than you ever had in your entire life; you’d lived in a small village, never roaming very far out of fear of animals and bandits and other unknown dangers. 

One of those dangers, as it turned out, had been the demon lord Sesshoumaru.

You don't know why you were taken. You don't know why he refuses to let you leave, why he demanded that you join his group, his company, whatever it can be called.  

You do know that you fight in what little ways that you can. Which, you admit, aren't many. You pack up deliberately slow, hoping to earn the rare annoyed look that breaks his normally impassive visage. You used to deliberately slow down when you knew he was in a hurry, dragging your legs or feigning a limp. Though once he caught on to your trick, he'd quietly suggested that he simply carry you from then on, and you'd dropped the act.

There is one concession you will never make, no matter what he says. Your biggest weapon against him. You refuse to call him my lord, as he commanded. As Jaken routinely harps on about. As even Rin, in a light, easy way, wonders why you won't. (But there is so much the child doesn't know, and doesn't understand, about your situation.)

Today, you are almost tempted to address him--no lord, of course--to ask if something is wrong. The tension is eating at you, and if the nervous glances of Jaken are anything to go by, you're not the only one who notices it. Perhaps there's something or someone that you can't see, another demon, detectable only by scent. Perhaps he's thinking about his brother, a subject you've only learned about in snatches of conversation, though you learned enough to know that you should never bring him up.

You're tempted to ask, but you don't. Instead you try to take in the scenery around you, walking quietly and pretending for a moment that you're alone. You're walking in the middle of the group, as you usually do; Sesshoumaru ahead of you, Jaken, Rin and the beast behind. This is probably to discourage you from running--not that you've tried to run in a long time. Getting recaptured, losing the thrill of hope in your heart when you think you just might make it this time, is incredibly tiring.

Your feet are often tired, too, but you truthfully you have enjoyed seeing more of the world, more than you would have ever seen near your village. If only it was under different circumstances. You've learned over the months that happiness needs to be taken wherever it can, or else you would simply give in to despair. 

A flower species you've never seen, a stunning ray of sunshine through the leaves of the trees, a glimpse of an animal not native to your village. You catalog these things in your mind and think about them at night, counting off the times your heart has been made lighter by them.

So you look around in the hopes of adding new memories to your catalog. Only there isn't much new to add. If anything, you've seen all of these things before. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Your gaze lingers on a particular bush dotted with bright pink flowers, just like the ones you used to pick, and you half-close your eyes, pretending that you're taking a break from former daily errands; your mother often scolded you when you returned home with a basket full of flowers, but she never hesitated to tie them into your hair or lay them on her  table as delicately as a treasure.

The daydream is made easier by the fact that these space is full of old things, old things you once knew. Even that patch of trees is remarkably similar to the ones you knew all your life, trees where you would sometimes be sent to collect bark; and that large rock, it even has the same markings, the same drawings carved in by children in some older generation. A small pond up ahead has the same pebble path, painstakingly laid by the elders for easy fishing grounds.

Oh.

Your legs feel heavy as lead and you stop, suddenly. Jaken yells something behind you about your sudden halt, but you can't make out the exact words. They don't matter, anyway.

That's why he's so on edge. That's why you've been so on edge.

The old things are not just familiar: they're exact. You're near your old village. You know these plants, these trees, the grass beneath your feet. No wonder he's tense, no wonder he's been keeping a breakneck pace since the morning. He wants to get away from this place--does he think you'll try to run back? You're not that stupid, he could kill your entire village in moments if he wanted to. And he might, if you tried to seek shelter there.

The realization weighs you down, even as Rin runs up to you and lightly takes your hand. She tugs you along, and you're gently jerked from your heavy realization until your legs continue to move, barely from their own free will. You glance forward and see that Sesshoumaru is watching, his head tilted back--to see what you would do, you think.

Rin lets go of your hand and runs on ahead, practically skipping past Sesshoumaru in a sudden sprint of childish speed, gaily ignoring Jaken's squawk of protest. Jaken knows better than to break the implied status quo--keep you in the middle--so he grumbles and maintains his slower pace.

But Rin doesn't get all that far ahead of Sesshoumaru before she, too, stops in her tracks.

"Look," she says, lifting her arm and pointing down past the trees, towards what you know will be a view of your village.

You resist the urge to sprint after her, to bridge the gap between you and catch a hill's-eye view of your village that you used to take in almost daily during your errands. You force your feet to remain steady, one-two, one-two--when Sesshoumaru suddenly pivots, and turns towards an opposite path, away from the village and away from the view.

"This way," he says.

"But. Lord Sesshoumaru--" Rin doesn't get a chance to finish when Sesshoumaru begins walking. She merely looks back towards the village with an odd expression, before running to catch up with him.

But you weren't going to be turned away so easily. You deserved a look at your village, didn't you? Just a glance at your former home? He stole your freedom, your life, he couldn't possibly begrudge you a look. 

So you keep your feet walking, quiet and nonchalant, intent on getting as far as the clearing where you know you'll be able to see the familiar buildings, the public square where festivals were held,  your own home, small and unassuming as it is. Glancing at them again might give you an image to hold onto, something you can think about before bed.

"Come on!" Jaken has pressed on ahead of you, and he's waving at you with the horrid staff he always carries. "Don't be so slow!" He swoops his staff towards Rin and Sesshoumaru, who is now standing still, staring at you. It's unusual. The entire day has been unusual. He doesn't normally bother with something as mundane as waiting--it's up to you, to Rin, to Jaken, to follow and catch up if need be. But he's waiting for you. As if he does begrudge you so much as a look.

"I just--" you start to say, inhaling a deep breath to gather your nerves.

It's then, with this deep breath, that you smell the smoke. It's then that you look up and see it, grey and thick, wafting above the trees, a detail you'd missed in your anxious haste to catch a even glimpse of your former home.

It's then that you push past Jaken, ignoring his protest, and reach the spot where Rin had stopped in her tracks.

Your village--what is left of it--is on fire. Hot, smoking buildings, crumbling and destroyed. You can see dark, red pools of blood--bodies. It was a fresh attack.

In an instant, you take off, barreling down familiar paths that you still know like the back of your hand. You hear your captor say your name, you hear the sound of twigs breaking as he moves to follow you, but you can think of nothing but your home, your family, and what might be left of them. 

You reach the village in precious little time, and it feels like walking into a nightmare. Hot air seems to simmer around you from the flames lingering inside buildings, the granary, even the market. The stench of death--blood and fire--makes you gag, and you cover your mouth with your hands. An unidentifiable body, burnt beyond humanity, is curled up against what used to be a home.

The sight propels you through the ruined streets, stepping over blood and remnants of belongings and bodies, until you reach your family’s home. Or what remains. The doorway is open, missing its door, and you cautiously peer inside the humble home that used to be all you knew.

You drop to your knees at the sight of your parents and your little brother, dead on the ground. You crawl towards them and your knees become wet with their blood. You reach out and feel the soft cheek of your mother, a cheek you'd kissed so many times as a child. It's still warm. 

You feel the weighty presence of Sesshoumaru behind you and turn around, getting shakily off your knees. He’s standing in the doorway, watching you.

You feel dizzy. You feel sick. From the smoke, from the sights, from the realization that your entire family--your entire world--has been lost.

It's then that you remember his sword. That you remember the story Rin gleefully told you around the fire, about how he'd saved her from death with it. About what it could do, if it was wielded.

You hesitantly step towards him, mind reeling. "They're dead,” you say, as if he can't tell from their lifeless, bloody bodies. "Can you... are they still..." Your voice is hoarse and hurting.

His face is impassive, but he doesn't tell you to leave. He continues to stand in the doorway, staring. You look at him, and then at his sword.

Without hesitation, you get back down on your knees and bow low, ignoring the smell of blood beneath you.

"Please," you say. "Please, my lord Sesshoumaru. Can you save them?"

You don't look up--you can't, out of fear that he'll reject you, your former pride no longer a concern with your families lifeless bodies within arm's reach--but you hear a short, quiet intake of breath in response. You keep yourself still, thoughts racing with memories and empty, fervent prayers without words.

"Go." His voice is low and commanding. "Jaken and Rin are waiting in the clearing."

Your legs seem to obey his command without question, pushing you off the floor and out of your ruined home as you make your way back through the village. You pick up your pace, wanting to wipe away the memory of seeing villagers you knew--villagers who carried you on their backs when you were a child, children you played with, the market women who gave you extra treats--dead on the ground. You don't stop running until you see Rin and Jaken up ahead, Rin looking at you with concern and Jaken--well, you already know you'll hear about your transgression for miles and miles.

When you reach the top of the hill, you spin around and stare at the far-away, ruined building that was your home.

Ages seem to pass before you suddenly see Sesshoumaru emerge from the opened doorway. He walks with no hesitation away from the village, not even glancing at the bodies or ruined buildings around him. He'll be here soon enough. But... was it too late? Did he save them? Did he leave them where they lay? You can feel your family's blood drying on your clothes.

And then, in the ruined doorway--your mother, your father, and your brother peering out cautiously after the demon who'd just saved them. You clap your hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, to avoid calling out. Mercy, mercy, mercy. It's a mercy that you know could never be given twice. They're alive.  They'll start over somewhere else and make a new life, somewhere safe, no doubt. Tears flow freely and for the first time in ages, they are not bitter, painful tears, but tears of relief. 

You stare at the small figures of your family, watch them disappear back into your home and emerge with cloth sacks strapped to their backs, until they walk down the ruined streets and are blocked from your view. As if on cue, Sesshoumaru walks into view of the clearing. Rin waves, cheerfully; Jaken splutters out ignored questions about what he was doing down there, anyway. 

You watch him with tear-filled eyes, eyes that for once are not glaring or hate-filled. He gives you half a glance--did he nod at you? or did you imagine it?--and then looks away, continuing wordlessly down the path he'd taken before you saw your village.

"We're leaving," he says. And you follow.

[duuhrayliegh]

Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨

hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)

A Friend of Yours

FATWS SPOILERS

warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it

word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine

a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)

check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

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

You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.

“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.

“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.

You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.

“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”

You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?

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

The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.

Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.

“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.

“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.

“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.

The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.

“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.

“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.

“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.

The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.

“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.

“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.

“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.

“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.

“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.

“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.

“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.

“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.

“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.

“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.

You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.

Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.

She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.

They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.

You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.

“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”

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

“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.

“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”

“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.

“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?

“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where do we start?”

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

Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.

The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.

“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.

She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.

“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.

“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.

“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.

“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.

“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.

“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.

“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”

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

The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.

“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.

“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”

Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.

“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.

“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.

“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.

Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.

“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.

“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.

“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.

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

That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.

Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”

You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.

The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.

“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.

“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.

You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.

“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.

Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.

“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.

Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”

“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.

“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.

“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.

“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.

“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.

“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words.  “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.

“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.

“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”

Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.

Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.

“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.

“It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”

“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.

“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.

“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”

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

You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.

“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.

His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.

“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.

“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.

“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.

“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.

“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.

“James.”

“Again.”

“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.

Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.

Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.

You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.

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

You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.

“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.

“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.

“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.

“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.

“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.

She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.

She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.

It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.

One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.

He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.

“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.

“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.

Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.

“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.

You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.” 

[testudoaubrei-blog]

“I’m loyal, that’s my whole thing.” - Scorpia, Season 4 Episode 6, Princess Scorpia

“Everything they taught us in the Horde about loyalty is meaningless” - Lonnie, Season 4 Episode 5, Protocol

Rewatching Season 4, I just finished Princess Scorpia. This is an episode that has always stuck with me, especially the A plot of Scorpia realizing how badly Catra has treated her and everyone else and deciding to leave. One thing I’ve been thinking about since I finished the series, though, is what this episode is telling us on a larger level. Looking beyond the character arcs and more at this show’s larger themes and message. Because this show is very much a show that says things, made by people who believe them. That earnestness and depth is one reason I keep coming back to it.

In the pull-quote above, and throughout the episode and before it, Scorpia defines herself in terms of loyalty. It is her identity - as she says, that’s what Scorpions do, they’re loyal. Her actions for three and a half seasons bear this out. When she first shows up, she tries to position herself as Catra’s new best friend, the one who won’t leave her and will stick by her no matter what. And that’s what she does, until this episode. She sticks by Catra through Catra’s increasingly villainous plots and erratic behavior. But she doesn’t just stick around. Until the portal, she barely contradicts Catra, and even afterwards, does so only furtively and immediately backs away as soon as Catra pushes back. For more than a year of show time, Scorpia has not just stood by Catra, or supported her, she’s actively assisted her in her most villainous and destructive acts. Scorpia is fighting by Catra’s side, eagerly carrying out her orders, and doing her utmost to see that Catra succeeds. But her loyalty goes beyond this practical help. Because for all that Catra loudly declares that she doesn’t need a new best friend, she consistently seeks out connection throughout the show, even when she’s at her most isolated in season 4. She needs moral support, and connection, and to know that she isn’t alone. Scorpia provides that, and keeps Catra going. Though Scropia isn’t initiating Catra’s various misdeeds, she’s assisting and supporting Catra throughout. On a personal, psychological level, the only word that seems adequate for this is ‘ennabling’ - Scorpia, sweet as she is, is Catra’s enabler. We see in the next few episodes what happens when Catra doesn’t have Scorpia’s support - she breaks down, and realizes that her actions really do have consequences, and that the affection she took for granted for so many years is something she can’t live without. But as long as Scorpia’s still around, Catra can’t make that realization.

Now I’m not going to say that Scorpia is morally culpable for Catra’s own actions. She’s not. Catra is solely responsible for her various betrayals, manipulations, violent outbursts and assorted murder attempts against...most of the rest of the cast (though being raised by Shadow Weaver sure as shit is a mitigating factor). But while Catra is obviously being a bad friend to Scorpia throughout, Scorpia isn’t actually being as supportive or helpful to Catra as she thinks, because Catra doesn’t actually need unconditional support, she needs people to be honest with her and express to her how she’s hurting them. She needs people who will stand up for themselves just as she needs to take responsibility for her own actions. This is part of why she and Adora have such a healthy dynamic in season 5 - Adora doesn’t take her crap, and Catra takes responsibility for her crap.

However, Scorpia -is- responsible for her own actions. And as I said above, she’s been with Catra every step of the way as Catra has attacked just about everyone and made war on Etheria. On a larger, political level, Scorpia is a willing participant in upholding the Horde’s oppressive system, and executing a war of aggression and colonization against innocent people. Speaking of colonization, perversely, she’s loyal to the very organization that dispossessed her and literally stole her birthright, then discarded it like a useless trinket when it was no longer useful to them. No one ever suggests ‘why don’t we let Scorpia connect with ~her runestone~’ until Glimmer does (and Glimmer’s motivations and arguments aren’t exactly forthright). Scorpia’s loyalty makes her an accomplice in her own oppression (like a bunch of the themes in this show there’s some interesting post-colonial stuff that the show doesn’t fully explore, probably because Noelle and the crew felt self-conscious about telling a post colonial story, or just didn’t know where to go with it). Interestingly, Scorpia’s loyalty to the Horde here parallels her loyalty to Catra, which has made her completely disregard her own wellbeing, which is the most obvious take away from the episode.

But I would argue that everything above shows that for Scorpia loyalty has been a way of avoiding developing her own moral compass. Scorpia repeatedly shoves aside questions of right or wrong in favor of being loyal to her friends and to the Horde. Loyalty has made Scorpia not only willing to accept her own mistreatment, but to willingly mistreat others, and to keep herself from asking any hard questions about what she’s doing or why. This is despite the fact that Scorpia is, by inclination, an incredibly gentle, kind and compassionate person. She’s willing to silence the best parts of her nature out of loyalty to Catra and the Horde. In the end, she also commits acts of violence and perpetuates the oppression of Etheria. And this is so insightful, because we see this sort of thing in our world all the time. So many oppressive institutions depend upon the loyalty of their members to keep them ‘just following orders’; so many abusive systems depend upon loyalty to stifle dissent and silence potential whistleblowers before they even speak. We see this in some of the most oppressive institutions and the worst scandals in our own society, and looking back through human history we see it in some of our nation’s and our species' most infamous crimes.

And when we look at the Horde as a system that Hordak has built in imitation of his elder brother’s empire, we see just how central loyalty is an ethos. Hordak himself is motivated entirely by loyalty to Prime - being a former clone, he spends the entire series not fully capable of accepting himself as an autonomous being (even when he acts like one and enjoys it, there’s some fucked up religious shit there that I won’t get into). He seems to have instilled this in his followers. The Horde Trio, Catra and Scorpia all hold loyalty as one of their highest values. Catra clings to it as her biggest accusation against Adora - that she was disloyal, as expressed in Catra’s perception that Adora broke her promise and abandoned her. Loyalty keeps the Horde Trio together and fighting for the Horde, and Scorpia with Catra. I think we can read between the lines and say the Horde runs on loyalty (as well as fear) and this is a very insightful portrayal of oppressive military and paramilitary institutions like armies of conquest and occupation and other instruments of state violence.

There’s another, related way of looking at how a sole reliance on loyalty as a moral framework has stunted Scorpia’s moral growth, and I think that brings together both the ways that it makes Scorpia willing to accept her mistreatment and participate in the mistreatment of others. Namely, loyalty in the Horde style isn’t just sticking with someone or something, but subsuming your own will into theirs. Following orders. Supporting your friend in what they do no matter what. Whatever you call it, it’s about turning off your own self - your self preservation, your self respect, your conscience, whatever other things you value - and just going along with what the person or institution you are loyal to wants you to do. And this is where Horde loyalty goes full circle, back to its origin - Horde Prime, the narcissistic self-made god who wishes to control or destroy everything that is not himself. Loyalty as Hordak conceived of it and as the Horde believes in it is a reflection of Prime's absolute control over all his domain.

In a way, self-determination is one of this show’s highest values (together with love). It’s at the heart of Adora’s 5-season, 3 year struggle to become her own woman and her own hero as she shrugs off one imposed destiny and then another and finally embraces what she wants. In a more negative form, it’s at the heart of Catra’s arc, as she finally accepts responsibility for her own actions and their consequences and starts working to make a world that she actually wants to live in, as well as admit to herself that what she really wants is love. And I could go on. This self-determination is existentially, obviously threatened by Prime chipping people, but it is also stunted by horde-style loyalty that demands unquestioning support and obedience.

Both the Horde Trio and Scorpia reject the Horde’s ideal of loyalty and walk away, but I think it’s interesting how they do it. Neither rejects loyalty entirely (not on the way Adora does) - the Trio, realistically, remain loyal to each other and simply walk away and walk out of the war (this might save their lives), joining the other disillusioned cynics in the Crimson Wastes. They reject loyalty to the horde and embrace a more supportive and respectful form of loyalty to each other. Scorpia leaves, but she actually comes to her crisis and makes her decision out of loyalty, and because it’s clear that her loyalty isn’t returned. The immediate situation - loyalty to Emily and Entrapta’s memory on one hand and Catra’s orders on the others - creates the conflict between loyalties that forces Scorpia to actually make her own choice rather than deferring to Catra. But she also reflects how Catra betrayed her loyalty to Entrapta, and thus how all of her friends’ loyalty to Catra is not returned.This is another point about horde-style loyalty - it’s one way - Hordak or Catra will demand your loyalty, but they feel no obligation to return it, which reflects Prime’s view of every other being in the universe as disposable. It’s only when she’s with the Princesses that Scorpia starts to find a new moral center, though sticking up for and protecting her friends remains important to her. In neither case, though, are these kinds of loyalty coming at the cost of either the Trio or Scorpia’s autonomy or ability to make moral choices of their own. In the very next episode, she says she wants to 'be A good friend' which is how the Princesses typically describe sticking together, which is a much more active and holistic concept than 'loyalty'. Scorpia confesses that she doesn't even know how, but she wants to learn and thinks the princesses can teach her.

There's another interesting counterexample to Horde Loyalty. Adora repeatedly breaks with the people around her to do what is right. First she leaves the Horde, then walks away from Catra by stages when it is clear that Catra is going to continue to harm other people and Etheria. Then she walks away from Glimmer, defies Light Hope and breaks loyalty with her supposed destiny and purposes as well as loyalty to the homelans she has never known. By season 5, Adora is loyal only to herself and the people she cares about, but she isn't constraining her will to anyone else's. For all that she seems like a rule follower Adora has a rebellious streak a mile wide, and she will do what is right, no matter what. This is what allows her to save the universe 3 times.

So the show’s argument is that loyalty is not a good moral framework to base all of our actions around. I don’t think it goes so far as saying that loyalty has no place in our ethics (being a good friend, which is such a huge part of the show, certainly includes loyalty, especially sticking with people when the going gets tough), but the show stresses time and again that being loyal to something or someone shouldn’t make you disregard yourself and what you think is right. Because it’s only by living out our own values and taking responsibility for our own actions that we can come into our own as moral beings. Moreover, if we insist on maintaining loyalty to institutions that oppress us and others, we can’t dismantle the systems of oppression that are holding us and other people down. (Yes, this is a pretty radical message, but I suspect that Noelle is some kind of anarchist? Anyway, it’s a thing.)

Okay, so that’s what I, a 35 year old, get from this kids show. I think it’s also worth pointing out that this lesson applies to younger viewers too, in their most immediate lives. Younger viewers will have had friends who didn’t treat them well, or might not have treated other people well, and who might have pressured them into participating in the mistreatment of others (this is kind of how bullying works a lot of the time). I think it’s important that younger viewers see how being a good friend never means disrespecting yourself or other people and it means a lot to me that She-Ra shows this in such a nuanced and realistic way.

[phoenixyfriend]

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”