#which cemented her guilt and the feeling it was her fault

[cannibalisticskittles]

amity, during an astarion romance, is eventually going to reach a point where they're being more genuine (or, well, he's being more genuine; amity has been pretty genuine this whole time) and he makes a complimentary remark abt her offhandedly and she's like "haha yeah. you remember you don't have to do that anymore right"

"do... what?" he asks

"you know," she says, "pretend i'm..." she waves a hand in the air, vaguely gesturing to herself. "...nice to look at. you don't have to do that anymore. it's okay."

and no matter what he says, he's. not going to convince her otherwise. not tonight. not tomorrow. not for a long time.

the most she can concede the point is to say that it's kind of him to say so. but she still doesn't think it's true, even a bit

amity's childhood fucked up her self-image BAD. children can be cruel. the patriar are, as a rule, quite cruel and callous. and patriar children?? woof. awful. and she is the tiefling bastard child of a new money noble -- one who got that money through merchant work, how gauche. so she was subsequently on the receiving end of... a substantial amount of unkindness. general distrust, at best, from those who weren't outwardly cruel, but quite a bit of outright cruelty

sorcerers, of course, do not learn their spells the traditional way, but more through desire. and amity learned the disguise self spell early, born out of an intense and desperate desire to Be Literally Anyone Else.

she has learned at this point in time that she has qualities that others may appreciate -- which was a hard-fought battle in and of itself, and is still a relatively recent revelation for her. but those qualities are still tied to what she does. her capacity to be kind, her ability to be helpful.

but her appearance? hahahahaha fuck no

[colorfuldream]

Watched a really nice video about Island of the Slaughtered and in order to free my mind from it, I'll rant about it and give some headcanons

TRIGGER WARNING for death, torture, ghosts/malevolent spirits, light SA mention/talk at the very end (it'll be in bold to be easier to notice! It starts after "Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work").

So, it's rare for writing to scare me. However, for some reason, this did give me a fright. Maybe the way the YouTuber read it, or perhaps the music and ambiance he added, is why I was hyper-vigilant while showering but the concept itself is terrifying when you think about it. 15 people died! You'd think that the kill count would stop, that they would survive for longer, but they don't. Even smart or athletic characters get caught... And for the dumbest reasons. Exactly like teenagers. They all make mistakes yet, somehow, this is barely their fault. They couldn't have planned it. They couldn't have known. The killer is almost omnipotent, it's like they can smell whenever there's an opportunity. They don't seize the simple moments of weakness (like how they didn't keep watch or, at least, only had one person which is exactly how Harold managed to sneak out and get killed), they wait until they can get that perfect chase or opportunity to torture the campers.

I feel like the sheer number of victims is what gets me. It's so easy to assume that they're all competent enough to survive a little longer. What makes it hit harder is that the last footage of those poor teens is the beginning of TTI up to Ezekiel's death. Imagine seeing the beginning of a horror movie composed of your loved ones and not knowing how it ended or, worse, learning that they were a victim, brutally killed, and you can't even have the body back. A whole month. That's how long it took for someone to go help them. Everyone knew. And no one did anything. Fucking Chris McLean ended up doing it. The same man who abandoned them, got them into this mess, and refused to say where the island was located.

Now, some headcanons before I overthink two of the deaths:

The canon serial killer and the one in this AU cohabit in the island. Maybe on good terms too. Our buddy with the hook and the chainsaw is just chilling, maybe helping out a little his mate, but enjoying the show. The chainsaw used for Heather might even be his! What a good pal.

The ghosts see each other as they were before their deaths. Be it that they're imagining it or that they can manifest a not-scary look. Owen and Geoff are forced to stay close but they really don't mind!

They don't really care for Chris's helpers. Sure, they were angry and disliked them, throughoutly tormenting them, but they weren't the target. They likely could have killed them, as the helpers probably accidentally broke some rules, but they were pawns to torment and scare Chris further. At some point, they begin to leave them alone as they realize that the helpers are their age... They're like them. Chris brought two more teenagers on an island with a serial killer, a monster who dismembered Ezekiel, with no experience and no actual weapons. Fuck, they're normal teens. What are they doing here?! This just angered the ghosts even more and cemented their desire to take revenge against Chris.

As long as Chris doesn't realize that he broke some rules, they let it go. Those are only here to scare him and make him squirm. To make him know that they're here at all times, watching, waiting for him to slip, loathing him.

While it's canon that the ghosts are fine with the survivors unless you've slighted them, they won't impose their rules and haunt you. They'll maybe taunt you and be here, reminding you that they died partly because of you, but they won't do much. For example, Trent will simply check in on Gwen. Her guilt is already enough and he doesn't have it in him to cause her more remorse. However, the sound of his voice as he sings into the night, kills her inside. He doesn't mean to but she's being eaten alive at not being able to get him out —even though she would have died with him if she stayed or manager to free him and they both know it. Noah, on the other hand, will glare at Duncan and make snippy remarks whenever he's trying to give out instructions. He'll question his choices and at every hint of annoyance, simply raise an eyebrow and in his classic tone say "really?" which guilts Duncan enough for his taste. He also chirps in when Duncan inevitably realizes that he was right about some of the directions, the bitter realization that they were both wrong and right about some things, that this was a misunderstanding and they were both too stubborn to work it out, that Noah could have survived if he hadn't been a jerk. All Noah had to say was "told you so" and Duncan would dig his nails into his palms at the cruelty he had displayed.

The reason why the ghosts didn't get the killer immediately is because they didn't know the limits to their powers and they were scared. Simple as that.

To add onto that, they used Chris as bait to make sure everyone else got out safe. They made Chris's death longer and more painful than anything they had gone through before immediately killing the murderer. That or they then tormented them until they died, either of natural causes or of fright.

Time for me to overthink two of the deaths!

My choice is Ezekiel and Heather. Ironically, they're the beginning and the end, both pictured as innocent and young.

Quick note for both of them but the ghosts may look like that because that was their last state as living. Yeah, I'm implying that they were dismembered alive.

Ezekiel:

I LOVE the writing for his discovery. It comes across as child-like, even when it comes to his corpse. You could say I love it to bits.

It's easy to forget that he was a sheltered kid after everything that happened in the canon. Here, he's portrayed as sweet and so, so much like a child. Someone who didn't deserve it.

He was an easy target. He might not even have noticed that anything was amiss until it was too late.

It would take time to find every part of his body. Did the crew search for him before setting off? I doubt it. They likely put things together quick and bailed, never finding his every piece.

A small detail that came up was that the hole Katie hid in might have been the one where his arm was. I like to think it was and she had to bite back her scream. The killer could have thought that they didn't need to search for her, she'd abandon her friend and get back to safety or if she didn't, she'd have screamed her head off at finding a rotting arm as she tried to hide.

His rule is the most interesting part to me. Chris will have to search for his body once but then he will simply have to run to them every time afterwards... And that's the last thing you want to do when there's a killer on the loose! It's also very, very fun for a video game. All the rules are! The art not being too scary either would make it very good. Anyhow!

If Chris needs to bring them back together, it's even more horrifying. Would he need to carry them with him in case Ezekiel wants to bother him? Do they go back to their original places and he needs to do everything every time?

Picture his voice. It isn't scary. Yet it would make it so much more eerie and unsettling. While true for every victim, his ghost doesn't even look scary. Again, it's child-like. And with everything else, it makes a wonderful picture.

Heather:

I love EVERYTHING about this one. The reference, the call backs to the canon... The writing!

I'll keep the latter for the end as it will tackle more sensitive content.

God, the way she's the last warning. Threatening. Vengeful. Exactly how she was in canon and how Chris perceived her.

The fact that she was found by the two most important people to her character! Iirc, Gwen found her head which is a shame since it's a reference to when Leshawna (sorry for the spelling guys) stuck her inside of the fridge.

The way she was grabbed by her ponytail! It's the way she wore her hair in latter seasons.

Off with her head for the queen bee. The stereotypical mean, popular girl.

Now for the writing: This was a straight-up call-out to her haters. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way it directly calls Chris, and us, out. She was a kid. She was terrified, begging, small and alone as she was killed. It makes sure we get that. We know her as a mean girl but she was a girl. She didn't deserve it. The way her suffering was highlighted, showing that she was crying like a young kid, compared to the others' was well-written and hit harder than the rest. It can even imply that Heather pretended to be meaner than she was for the show. It's a valid theory for the canon, she was cunning and she knew it made her memorable. But that meant that Chris truly thought she was. Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work.

Last trigger warning for SA:

"She was pretty". Amazing. Perfect. That, by itself, tells me that the creator is a very good writer and knows how horror works.

Listen. Listen up well. The SA headcanon isn't bad. Is it gross? Yes. The entire AU is. SA is. However, we've grown desensitized to murder and gore. Not SA. It still feels horrible and outrageous. That's why it works and makes for good horror. BUT! The thing is not to overdo it. Not say too much, not use it too much. Especially not as a fetish.

Here, it's done perfectly. Yes, she's a minor. They all are and most got brutally murdered. So a creepy murderer isn't that bad.

The implications that he kept her head because he found her pretty are amazing. It makes her fate so much more tragic. It brings a new level of cruelty and disgusting to her death. We know that he doesn't have pure intentions. Just staring at her frozen head is horrible enough. We know the way he looks at her, how he sees her. It also raises the question why. Why her? Canonically, most of the girls are pretty. Lindsey, in particular, was the most beautiful. Was it because Heather cried and begged? Was it because he had disfigured the others before he could notice their looks? Is it because he found that "submitting her" made her better? (Which is incidentally a real thought process r*p*sts have. Some like to bring some people down a peg by doing those awful things, hating how they felt inferior because their poor victims didn't look at them or at the world "right".)

It's a real question and worry that this simple like brings. It brings a real, scary subject we aren't desensitized to just yet into this and enhances the horror. It doesn't say too much, it isn't insensitive. We won't ever know what the killer would/will do. We just know he's a vile piece of shit on every level.

It's also a huge contrast to how child-like Heather was described as and how it was hammered into our heads. It's said so simply, almost like another child would say. "Oh she's pretty". It isn't said in a gross way! That's very good writing. It keeps the same tone. It's almost eerie with how simple and factual it is.

That headcanon exists (and might be popular, I don't look at the fandom) because the line and implications are there. Horror should make you uncomfortable and that's what this does. Of course, personally, I wouldn't say the killer did anything. But, he might have planned to. He might have after the body was discovered. It wasn't like the campers had the time to bury their friends or would fathom that this monster thought Heather was pretty.

It all depends on the delivery and of course some edgelords will be insensitive and approach it terribly. I think the actual AU did it exactly how it should be done.

The entire Heather section was done as best as it could ever be.

[problemswithbooks]

Endeavor is wracked with horror at seeing Dabi's ice, thinks it's all his fault, his hands moves in a clawing fashion away from it, Hori puts in millions of Endeavor panels in a bad graphic collage which make no logical or visual sense, and then has him think back to how he said his family can be happy (in a world) where only he doesn't exist(it's written similar to title of the manga Erased so this should be the more literal meaning) and decides the only thing he can do to atone to Dabi is take him high into the sky for them both to die together because he failed to look at Dabi. Rei showing up like in the hospital should not actually change his mind if this were following like it has been because he has reached past a breaking point. The whole chapter is about how abuser man bad and can't do anything because plot needs you to see abuse is bad and how the real heroes are victims who rise up with their true good karma. Also its more irony to rub salt on his wounds of why he didn't take an ice sidekick. Rei seemingly helping him is more like a hook Hori dangles for fans to take the wrong interpretation which will be hammered home in the next chapter that it's only about her stopping her husband's madness and wrong actions to save her children this time as she swore to Shoto in the letter to never repeat her mistakes (actions follow the words through unlike someone). The victims as Rei said really do feel genuine guilt enough to take action unlike him and step up unlike his "escapist ass". Shoto had cemented this concept in meta when he said sentiments don't count without action and Endeavor alone shows no action, only inaction and selfflagellation.

Foils and parallels are made and other injured characters doing more(Iida running 500km on land breaking Deku's record) makes his complaints about not being able to move sound like petty excuses and that he never really tried to go plus ultra most likely. Rei is awakening her quirk because of her beloved son ad even having ice vapors rise from her eyes(and Endeavor was panned for having asspulled laser eyes as a Boys reference?). As Geten paraphrases a Redestro ideology, which is the gist of Vigilantes, that regular people when allowed to are powerful as top heroes because of untapped potential. But Endeavor didn't awaken anything as if he doesn't love his son enough unlike the mother to even spark something nor had he previously made any effort to think of how to save Dabi by taking help of suitable quirked allies or even interviewing Ujiko in jail, he just has inaction and sentiments on his side and now he could only think of himself, his hero duty and suicide.

And Dabi actually awakened his Ice because of Shoto's phosphor not as Endeavor puts it near death which will be clarified as usual to be Endeavor's flawed perspective. This powerful and can do anything Himura genes and ice are keeping him alive is all because of Shoto who made the Phosphor move which has come back to keep Toya alive because of his Himura side family's genuine and unconditional love and in plot it is all to spite the abuser Endeavor by proving him wretched. Shoto is who the chapter title is a reference to(Dabi called him that in the chapter Phosphor). Rei was an all Might parallel visually in both the (probably will be shown to have been one of the kids rescued by all Might in his debut so it's ultimate ly All Might's credit once agan for saving the would be "Himura" family). The Masegaki kids are probably the ones who are repaying Shoto's niceness to them by helping his mom. In short it's back to the virtuous mom's genes were all what was right and the bad dad's genes are everything that is wrong. Even though some make jokes that the consanginuos marriage genes must have led to disabilities it's the opposite and Endeavor's bad flame is baaaad.

In fact everything is only to cement how Endeavor was bad ad wrong and unfortunately Hori has not given him much else character wise(even his backstory seems to be him having being fueled by contempt of his father's weakness). His so called atonement is too poorly written, the plot is too judgemental to be smooth, and because the goalpost just keeps being moved further from him and excused for his "fans" with small words that can be easily refuted it's not solid.

Endeavor's mess was first being cleared by Shoto in the initial Dabi fight and now it is being done so by All Might and Mom the two perfect avatars of the endgoals he had set for himself as achievable in hubris- hero and parent. His ending being attempted suicide averted like his last nemesis Ending is about all he'll get it seems.

This is a lot...and to be totally honest I don't fully understand what you're trying to say. That the story is being anti-abuse, so my opinion about how giving Touya ice is bad are wrong? That's why Enji is written the way he is? Or are you just bashing Enji's character? I'm really not sure. So, I'll just go through this point by point and give my opinion.

The whole chapter is about how abuser man bad and can't do anything because plot needs you to see abuse is bad and how the real heroes are victims who rise up with their true good karma.

I mean, I guess, maybe that could be the point but this was a stupid way of writing this entire side plot if that was the theme. It would have taken far less time and wasted pages if Hori had just left Enji an abusive asshole. That's a way better and faster way of showing abuser man as bad.

Also its more irony to rub salt on his wounds of why he didn't take an ice sidekick. Rei seemingly helping him is more like a hook Hori dangles for fans to take the wrong interpretation which will be hammered home in the next chapter that it's only about her stopping her husband's madness and wrong actions to save her children this time as she swore to Shoto in the letter to never repeat her mistakes (actions follow the words through unlike someone).

Enji not bringing an ice sidekick as a strike against him doesn't work. We haven't seen anyone but Himura's with ice Quirks. It's not like anyone has called him out on not using them either. I mean Shoto could have said something about it earlier to throw shade. We don't know if this was an option he had and refused, so he can't be facing karmic repercussions for it now.

As for Rei, I really hope Hori doesn't use her in this way. In a different post I outline why doing so would be stupid given how Hori has written Enji. Enji isn't a mad man doing wrong actions--he literally is in a position where he is incapable of doing anything else. Which is probably why you had to invent an ice sidekick he left behind, because otherwise he really is only doing what he can.

The victims as Rei said really do feel genuine guilt enough to take action unlike him and step up unlike his "escapist ass". Shoto had cemented this concept in meta when he said sentiments don't count without action and Endeavor alone shows no action, only inaction and selfflagellation.

But we see that Enji does care and feel genuine guilt. He is only barred from doing more because the plot can't have him act. We can see this easily when we think of all the times he didn't 'act'.

When he left Shoto to follow Izuku--this doesn't make sense. He can't be avoiding Dabi here. The Heroes are looking for any leads to find AfO or any of the LoV. Enji may not be with Shoto, but that doesn't mean he's not searching for Touya. It frankly wouldn't make sense if he wasn't. All the Heroes want leads and Touya would be a big one. They aren't going to just ignore Touya out in the open just because Enji doesn't want to confront him at the moment.

Fighting AfO instead of Touya--Shoto told him to do this. Sure, he might have been pissed because Enji 'ran down the clock' but as I've pointed out above the way Hori wrote it, that doesn't make sense. Either way Enji was willing to change teams and go after Touya together with Shoto, but Shoto told him to leave Touya to him. And given how the AfO fight has gone, that was the right choice. AfO has trounced all the Heroes and only Enji managed to kill him so as to put him in a situation where the Heroes can win by simply stalling.

The present Touya fight--Enji broke off from the AfO fight to deal with Touya immediately. He didn't leave it for someone else to deal with. He retreated and didn't attack Touya at all from what I could tell, and tried to talk to him. It wasn't until he was told Touya was going about to explode and take civilians and Heroes with him that he resorted to taking Touya into the sky to die together. He has zero other options and it is really the only way he can atone for what he did to Touya in that moment.

Foils and parallels are made and other injured characters doing more(Iida running 500km on land breaking Deku's record) makes his complaints about not being able to move sound like petty excuses and that he never really tried to go plus ultra most likely.

Look, I love Tenya but what he's doing pales in comparison to what Enji is/has. Tenya barely did anything during the first Touya fight. He is completely uninjured. On top of that Shoto himself is having a hard time standing or moving after his fight with Touya, where again his injuries were minor. He's just tired from using his Quirk.

Meanwhile Enji got stabled in the side, falling hundreds of feet to the ground, bled out, then got back up, lost an arm and used his biggest attack possible to kill AfO. Then when AfO revived he continued to fight him, constantly using his fire to stay in the air, until Touya showed up. From there he has been attacked by Touya which only makes his overheating body worse.

The manga clearly shows Enji's actions, particularly against AfO as plus ultra.

Rei is awakening her quirk because of her beloved son ad even having ice vapors rise from her eyes(and Endeavor was panned for having asspulled laser eyes as a Boys reference?). As Geten paraphrases a Redestro ideology, which is the gist of Vigilantes, that regular people when allowed to are powerful as top heroes because of untapped potential.

None of this is even true. Rei isn't awakening her Quirk. That's just her Quirk from what we know, she's just using it now. As for the Redestro ideology, it's based on Quirk superiority. Sure some regular people could possibly be as strong as Heroes if they used their Quirks all the time, but others wouldn't, and according to Redestro, those weaker people are lesser.

But Endeavor didn't awaken anything as if he doesn't love his son enough unlike the mother to even spark something nor had he previously made any effort to think of how to save Dabi by taking help of suitable quirked allies or even interviewing Ujiko in jail, he just has inaction and sentiments on his side and now he could only think of himself, his hero duty and suicide.

What would Enji even awaken that would help in this situation? He has a fire based Quirk and Hori has never shown us any different. If he suddenly had water powers or something that would a huge ass pull on Hori's part and even he doesn't generally do something that out of left field. It's not that Enji doesn't love Touya, and Rei does, it's just that Rei has a Quirk that counteracts Touya's while Enji's only makes it worse.

Again we are never shown anyone outside the family with ice powers except Geten. We don't see Enji refuse allies like, maybe Geten because he thinks he's great on his own. In fact Enji usually does use sidekicks but had them fight with Shoto to keep him safe and up the chances Shoto could stop Touya safely. If there were ice sidekicks available past characterization would suggest Enji would use them.

As for Ujiko no one knew he was involved with Dabi's survival and there was already way more pressing things the Heroes would want from him, like say AfO's location, or Quirks. What he did to Shigaraki. Honestly, Ujiko randomly telling a guard about Touya makes zero sense as it is and was clearly only put in to help flesh out Touya's backstory. Heck, even if Enji had known to ask Ujiko, the scientist didn't have any solutions anyway.

The Heroes duty stuff has always been shaky because of how dire Hori made the situation. I'm sorry but it's stupid to say Enji is choosing being a Hero over a father because he doesn't want his son's inevitable death to end up killing hundreds if not thousands of innocent people. The fact he refuses to kill Touya (something that given Touya's condition wouldn't be hard) and instead die with him so he's not alone, proves he does love him as a son.

And Dabi actually awakened his Ice because of Shoto's phosphor not as Endeavor puts it near death which will be clarified as usual to be Endeavor's flawed perspective.

This is nothing but a prediction. Nothing about Enji's perspective is flawed here, if that is even his thoughts and not a narrator. Touya is seconds from dying via explosion and his body is charred to almost just bones. Sure, Shoto's new skill might be what helped unlock Touya's ice, but from what we've been told about this world that's not something that happens, so why would Enji come to that conclusion?

This powerful and can do anything Himura genes and ice are keeping him alive is all because of Shoto who made the Phosphor move which has come back to keep Toya alive because of his Himura side family's genuine and unconditional love and in plot it is all to spite the abuser Endeavor by proving him wretched.

Maybe don't praise the horrible racist, eugenics family so much. Touya having ice that keeps him alive shouldn't be attributed to them or act like they're somehow better then Enji. They are just as bad as him, if not worse because they did this over hundreds of generations. Attribute it only to Shoto's unconditional love and Rei.

Also how does this spite Enji whose entire reason for having kids with Rei was to have this outcome. If anything it shows he was right. Enji wanted Rei's ice genes to cool of his fire genes and that's exactly what's happening. In this way it's a win for Enji.

Rei was an all Might parallel visually in both the (probably will be shown to have been one of the kids rescued by all Might in his debut so it's ultimate ly All Might's credit once agan for saving the would be "Himura" family).

I don't see these All Might parallels at all honestly. Also, what would be the point of Rei having been saved by All Might at one time. I'm sorry but why wouldn't she have told Shoto this, if this was true--would have made him like Heroes way more then just seeing an interview with All Might on TV.

In short it's back to the virtuous mom's genes were all what was right and the bad dad's genes are everything that is wrong. Even though some make jokes that the consanginuos marriage genes must have led to disabilities it's the opposite and Endeavor's bad flame is baaaad.

I'm sorry but this is just a horrible thing to say in general. People can't help what they get from their parents. This sort of thinking is harmful. Are you saying that if someone gets their abusive parents hair or eye color they got the 'bad, evil abuser' genes.

Plus, Shoto's entire thing has been learning to accept his flames regardless of how much he hated inheriting them from his father. They are a part of him and he uses them to do good. In fact his new attack you keep praising is a combo of both--it wouldn't work without fire as well as the ice.

In fact everything is only to cement how Endeavor was bad ad wrong and unfortunately Hori has not given him much else character wise(even his backstory seems to be him having being fueled by contempt of his father's weakness).

And...so what? Yeah, Enji was a bad person and was wrong. The point is that he wants to change and how he goes about it. I don't care that his backstory didn't give him some sob story.

His so called atonement is too poorly written, the plot is too judgemental to be smooth, and because the goalpost just keeps being moved further from him and excused for his "fans" with small words that can be easily refuted it's not solid.

I'm a little confused what you're getting at here. Are you saying it's badly written because it's to judgmental of him and Hori keeps moving the goal posts? Yet, you also disagree with fans of his character because everything they say in defense of him is untrue/dumb?

If you've read this far you know I don't think Hori wrote this side plot well. It has many mistakes, but I wouldn't say one is moving the goalposts. I'd say the worse is not letting him do anything, or putting him in situations where he can't make a good choice but punishing him like he had one.

Endeavor's mess was first being cleared by Shoto in the initial Dabi fight and now it is being done so by All Might and Mom the two perfect avatars of the endgoals he had set for himself as achievable in hubris- hero and parent. His ending being attempted suicide averted like his last nemesis Ending is about all he'll get it seems.

I mean, Shoto didn't clean up Enji's mess, otherwise Touya would be fixed already. And AfO wasn't Enji's mess. He would have killed AfO pretty damn fast if the guy hadn't had a secret trump card. If AfO's anyone's mess he's All Might's, who has been fighting him for decades. That's why he decides to fight him regardless of being Quirkless, because he feels it's his responsibility.

Personally, I don't think Enji saw either Rei or All Might as end goals for himself at this point in the story. Dude's not confident enough at this point to think he could ever be like them. He already knows he can't make his family happy like Rei can, which is why he got them a separate house. He's barely given All Might a second thought this entire War--he's just doing his best at this point.

I wouldn't call Ending his nemesis--he appears for a chapter and Enji didn't even seem to remember him. Nor is his so called suicide attempt any where similar to Ending's. He's not asking to be killed, and I don't even think he wants to die, but Touya is going to die and he wants to be there for him like he never was before. Given Touya's state he probably could kill Touya himself rather easy and survive, but he's not going to do that, instead he's getting Touya to a safe place to explode and won't leave his side no matter what.

[denimbex1986]

'Somewhere midway into Christopher Nolan's masterclass, the biopic on the life of the "father of the atomic bomb," Robert J. Oppenheimer, starts showing the fault lines of what is an otherwise captivating visual marvel. While quickly switching timelines and picking up speed as if the movie was rushing to reach its grand climax, Nolan's Oppenheimer starts losing focus on the many storylines it teases throughout the nearly three-hour-long journey. It becomes evident by the time the film reaches its halfway point that its scope, especially in the way conceived by Nolan, was way beyond what could be justifiably captured in one film, cementing the argument that Oppenheimer could easily have been two movies with enough material to provide a captivating movie-going experience.

Upon a revisit, once the lure of the larger-than-life visuals conjured by Christopher Nolan fades, it becomes evident that Oppenheimer, in its current form, while majestic, still feels like two different movies at different points through its intimidating run time of three hours. Initially, much like a biopic, the film picks up pieces of the life of the man of the moment. On a blank canvas, the film paints an enticing picture of its protagonist who is equally intriguing yet familiar. After all, it's not the first time a guilt-ridden protagonist has graced the screens in theatres. However, very early in the film, it's proved that behind the genius of a physicist who's on the lookout for great scientific achievement lies a man with questionable morals.

Oppenheimer's Guilt Needed More Time To Develop

In one of the most controversial scenes of the film, Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) makes an attempt at killing his professor but changes his mind a day later. Without holding back, the film establishes the dwindling moral disposition of its protagonist who’s both revered and questioned within the length of the same film. But in trying to achieve and portray both extremities of the character's mental makeup, the film forgets to create a bridge between the two. Possibly one of the greatest flaws of the film becomes the film's inability to weave together the various aspects that contribute to Oppenheimer's breakdown, which culminates in the scene when Oppenheimer gives a speech in front of a jubilant audience celebrating the success of the Trinity Test. From the beginning, Oppenheimer is seen to be a troubled man, although the reasons for his troubles feel scattered, eventually making the film a pursuit to find meaning behind the physicist's tribulations, which are partially of his own making.

As Oppenheimer juggles various defining moments of its protagonist's life to put forth a holistic macro view, various open threads are left untied by the end, at least in a satisfactory manner. As a result of the cramming of too much material in one film, some of the key moments of the story fail to deliver the intended impact. For instance, Oppenheimer's tumultuous relationship with Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) deserved more attention for its impact to be justified and understood. As the film couldn't afford to deviate much from the life of Robert, thanks to the many important events that the film had to cover within the limited run time, Jean's death and the conditions which led to it are left largely unexplored although the indelible impact of hers, along with others who surround the titular character, is made obvious at multiple junctures.

What's Wrong With 'Oppenheimer's Pacing?

Due to its inconsistent pace, the film significantly loses the battle in showing the gradual growth of its protagonist's guilt. For nearly 2/3rds of the film, Oppenheimer does not seem to reflect a strong stance on the moral consequences of his actions. Only near the time when he witnesses the power of the bomb firsthand, he starts questioning the possibility. Even then, his stance remains a neutral one. Being part of the room in which the location of the bombings was decided, Oppenheimer chose to provide "arguments" for both sides rather than making a choice or taking a stance.

As reiterated multiple times throughout the film, the physicist personified the greatest intellectual voice of his time yet his voice was diluted by a virtue of his choices. From here, his change in stance when he started believing that he unleashed a chain reaction onto the world, a concern voiced by him in the last scene of the film, does not seem as obvious or apparent. For some, it may only seem a confusing character development.

For a film that heavily rides on the guilt of its protagonist who possibly lay the blueprint of the biggest threat known to humanity, Oppenheimer's run time doesn't provide enough opportunity to explore this gradual awakening of a moral crisis despite the psychological breakdown being one of the film's primary points of convergence. Had the film chosen to go that way, it would have lost out on many crucial aspects of the protagonist's life. Clearly, a choice was made at the expense of another. To conduct a much deeper philosophical investigation than the one portrayed by Oppenheimer while maintaining a greater focus on documenting the events of the physicist's life in detail, Nolan would have required a sequel for his modern magnum opus.

Another key aspect of the film that directly affects Oppenheimer's fate is his stance on communism – which is focused upon greatly only to the extent that it helps justify the arguments made by the prosecutor Roger Robb (Jason Clarke) and assists in furthering the narrative that the United States of America's atomic policy wouldn't be safe in the hand of the man who engineered the greatest progress that country had achieved in the field until then. In all the talk that surrounds Oppenheimer's keen interest in communism, the film doesn't provide the opportunity for the audience to understand where he actually lay on the spectrum. During the proceedings in the end, his interest in Communism is stated to be derived from his intellectual interest in the subject and not political. However, there is not enough evidence, in the film, to deliver a conclusive judgment in favor of either side. Nolan leaves the question open for the audience to explore once they are left craving to know more.

'Oppenheimer's Ensemble Cast Feels Like a Wasted Opportunity

Lastly, one film doesn't provide a fair opportunity to all the talented actors who make an appearance in the film. From Gary Oldman's Harry S. Truman to Jack Quaid's Richard Feynman, the film introduces many characters in passing, providing an opportunity for them to evoke interest but robbing them of the chance to flourish. To the effect that most supporting actors feel like they are making an extended cameo, Oppenheimer feels like a wasted opportunity in a film during the zenith of scientific exploration. A two-part movie would have been the perfect opportunity for the film to also explore the talent that it attracted on an unprecedented scale. Kenneth Branagh, Matthias Schweighöfer, Rami Malek, Casey Affleck, Emma Dumont, Sadie Stratton, and Dylan Arnold, among others - all make an appearance with interesting characters that back the narrative catapulted by the central characters played by Murphy, Blunt, Matt Damon, and Robert Downey Jr. Unfortunately, none stay long enough to develop on their own.

Frankly, Oppenheimer's life was rather too eventful for Nolan to explore anybody else's life within the scope of a single film, even if it meant three hours of a thrilling theatrical experience (or no pee breaks). But despite the prospect of a two-part biopic being wishful thinking, if anything could have made it possible by blending critical acclaim with commercial success, it would have been Nolan and his brand of filmmaking. Rightfully so, Oppenheimer had all the potential to become a worthy pursuit in that direction.'

[tacticaldiary]

Accidental Injury

REQUEST:

Reader accidentally hurt Katsuki while sparring - anon

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Pairing: Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She didn’t mean to hurt him. The fact that she managed to land such a serious shit on him during their sparring match was shocking in itself. It was her own fault for losing control of her quirk though-

Masterlist

I like this idea ‘cause it’s usually Bakugou accidentally injuring Y/N. Nice to see a little change.

The sickening thud makes Y/N shout out in alarm. Bakugou’s body slides down the cement wall, where he lies, motionless. Y/N screams out his name and abandons her defensive stance to rush to his side. She crouches next to him quickly and immediately feels sickened when she sees blood seeping out of the side of his heads, near his left temple.

They had been training together, sparring, and Y/N had managed to land a pretty hard hit on him. Only, it was harder than she intended, and she lost control of her strength quirk for a split second, the punch sending her boyfriend plummeting towards the wall.

None of them ever held back when sparring. Y/N knows Baugou would be personally offended if he found out that she ever went easy on him, and Bakugou believed that going easy on Y/N would be an insult to her. He knew she was strong. Fighting someone as strong as him would help her grow and vice versa.

She can hear other footsteps, and she turns around to find Denki. After yelling at him to go get Recovery Girl, she turns her attention to him, examining his wound. It didn’t look too deep. It was bleeding sluggishly.

Eventually Recovery Girl and Aizawa Sensei show up and take the lead from there. Y/N can only watch as they take an unconscious Bakugou to the medbay.

“I’m sor-”

“Shut up.” His red eyes glare at her harshly, as if daring her to repeat her apology.

“You’re hurt because of me!” Y/N protests.

“We were sparring. No shit someone got hurt.” he raises an eyebrow, looking a little strange with the bandage wrapped around his head. He would be fine, thanks to recovery girl and would be able to leave in a few hours. He was sitting up in the cot while Y/N was sitting in a chair next to him. Y/N feels another wave of guilt wash over her as she looks at the bandage. She remains quiet as recovery girl walks in the room.

Y/N fiddles with the worksheet on her desk idly, not looking at her boyfriend, who was seated on her bed, scrolling through his phone. He had been discharged a few hours ago and they had headed to Y/N’s room. Silent for the past few hours.

“Come here.” Bakugou’s voice finally cuts the silence, annoyed and determined. Y/N sighs and slowly turns around to face him, eyes immediately catching on the bandage again. That was her fault…

“Oi, I said get your ass over here.” He says again, with a slight scowl. Y/N complies, moving over to sit next to him, still keeping a considerable amount of distance between them. She hears his frustrated groan and then yelps as she feels his arms wind around her and pull her towards him. They end up lying down, with Y/N on his chest. She’s tense, eyes darting nervously around her room. Her hand, which usually busied themselves in his hair, remained at her sides awkwardly. After a few more seconds of silence, Bakugou speaks again, clearly angry about something.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he looks down at her, brows furrowed. “You think I can’t handle one of your shitty punches? You’re calling me weak?”

She shakes her head quickly. He was anything but weak, one of the strongest people she knew.

“Then what the hell is it? Don’t you fucking dare treat me like I’m fragile.” His voice turns low at the last part. He hated being treated like her was weak. He despised it.

“I...You’re not weak...that’s...that’s not it. I’d never treat you like that!”

He waits for her to continue. She does eventually, sighing.

“I lost control for a second. I could’ve hurt you, no! I did hurt you!”

“And?”

“And? What do you mean ‘and’? You could have gotten a concussion and-”

“Did I complain about that?” he asks

“...No?”

“Then why the fuck are you worrying about it?” He says, leaning back and closing his eyes, his grip around her tightening.

“I-...I’m sorry.” She whispers finally. Bakugou scowls in response, but allows her to apologise.

“Don’t think you’ll get me that easily next time, loser.” He mutters, grabbing her hand and guiding it to his head. When she realises what he’s doing, she attempts to yank her hand away, but is unable to as he tightens his grip. Red eyes meet hers, asking her to calm down and demanding trust. She nods minutely and Bakugou doesn’t look away from her until her hand is gently placed on his head. He let’s go and Y/N, after a minute’s hesitation starts stroking and running her hand through it.

Bakugou hums in satisfaction and holds her close, tangling their legs together. After a few minutes, he feels her relax in his hold.

He starts to doze off because off the energy sapped from him when he was healed, but before he’s out completely, he can feel Y/N press her lips to his temple, his injured temple, and mutter another apology. He wants to scoff at her, anything to convince her it wasn’t her fault, but he’s out like a light the next minute.

Requests Are Open! Feel free to stop by and say hi!

(3/04/2021)

[exclamaquest]

what drew u to hiyuta? its just such a unique pairing

essay under cut

as all good things do, my love of hiyuta started in an au! in my original talentswap au, the way things shook out had Hiyoko and Yuta on Jabberwock together after the events of swap universe SDR2. through that, i started to explore their potential dynamic in the au more (Yuta having been through Towa City with soldier!Hifumi, and Hiyoko dealing with the guilt she felt from being a blackened) and started putting them together in more aus (most notably powers au, which is where it solidified more as a ship for me).

eventually, i started thinking about them in a potential nondespair au. i think that while they're a great example of opposites attract (their dynamic is in the same very rough vein as April and Andy), they do have a LOT in common (although Yuta's character is very speculation-heavy, you can easily extrapolate a lot about potential directions he could have gone in).

Hiyoko and Yuta are both uniquely affected by their talent or by their lack thereof. we know in canon that Yuta is a gifted swimmer in his own right, but chose to pursue track and field because he knew that he would never be as good as his sister. despite being incredibly good at his chosen field, there's no question of him ever being an ultimate. as someone who grew up in the shadow of a famous relative, i can say firsthand he's in a very unique situation. despite his own merits, through no fault of his own, he will always, always be overshadowed by his sister.

it's nobody's fault, really--it's a combination of what's necessary for Hina to shine to her full potential and the way that the world is structured around the ultimate system. that doesn't make it any easier for him to cope. for the most part, he isn't Yuta, he's Hina's brother. if one thing had changed, if he had been noticed before her, he would be an ultimate, but that's not how the cards shook out, and he has to be okay with that fact.

Hiyoko, as we all know, isn't "herself", either. she's the heiress to the Saionji family. ever since she was taken from her father, she's been shoved into the spotlight. she's desperately trying to carve her own path while still being forced onto one that's been set for her since before she was born. she's under a lot of pressure to perform in specific ways and to be "on" all the time--she doesn't have time to figure out who she is. she's a pessimist with trauma she's unwilling to work through. she does legitimately care about her talent and about preserving japanese tradition (as you can see in her FTEs), but her relationship to her talent and her family's legacy is tainted.

i think a lot of the ship is about the contrast of the shadow vs the spotlight. they're two people with very different but equally fraught relationships to their talents or lack thereof. due to this i feel like they'd very much be able to see through that in each other--they're not Hina's brother and the Saionji heiress, they're just Yuta and Hiyoko.

they're also finding themselves outside of their families and cementing their personal identities alongside one another.

ofc there's the fun combination of the unhealthy pessimism with the unhealthy optimism too. Yuta has the good old Asahina "if i don't think about it, it didn't happen" don't-do-sadness thing going on, while Hiyoko is firmly in the realm of assuming the worst from everyone. Yuta sees beauty in everything and Hiyoko is drawn to destroy it.

i think there's a lot to be said about them learning from each other in this regard--Yuta learning that it's best to be cautious in certain situations and that it's okay to take what he wants and to be selfish sometimes, and Hiyoko gradually coming to realize that there is beauty in things and sometimes things DO work out for the best in addition to letting herself put her guard down.

i'm gonna cut myself off here because this is getting long. i COULD go on for longer but tl;dr i think they're very very cute together and am always open to talking about them.

and they both like traditional sweets :]

[bcdwhcre]

Hey! Can you do a scenario for AOT with Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie’s S/O gets seriously injured during a fight with some titans? Whether the reader survives or not can be up to you. I love how you write for the AOT characters haha

“Battles,” Mikasa x Sasha x Annie Headcanons

Couldnt find a gif with all 3 of them. SAD

Summary: Being with one of the girls and you get injured in battle

Warnings: none, no spoilers

Also pls don’t comment any spoilers and be considerate of others thank you <3

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Mikasa:

You weren’t supposed to be on this expedition but Mikasa had convinced the Captain to let you tag along, knowing how much of use you would be which was true.

You were pretty good at your job and you were well known for your skills so it wasn’t a hard decision for Levi to accept the offer of you being on his team and coming along with them.

But you were way over your head. You were thinking the capture of Bertholdt and Reiner would be simple, easy, won’t have to do much but you were far from right.

As the both of them transformed into their Titan forms, you had tried your best to take Reiner down- going to far lengths and risking your life completely. He needed to be down, no matter the cost and you knew what you needed to do.

As you swung and flipped in the air, shooting the gear to shoot into the wall, helping you fly up higher up to the back of Reiner’s neck, trying to be quick to swipe your sword through his thick skin but he had seen you from a mile away.

He moved his hand up, swinging it across the air and knocking you back quite hard, making it difficult to move and dodge the attack. You were thrown across the sky, your gear crushed and too jammed to shoot a hook up and the impact of his armor had almost instantly knocked you unconscious.

Mikasa had seen everything unfold before her very eyes, panic running through her veins as she tried to fly towards you and was trying to be fast enough to catch you midair but you were flying at high speed.

You finally landed on the hard ground, sliding against the cement and the impact of your head hitting the ground had killed you in seconds. There was no way for you to survive the landing, it was too hard, too fast. You were like a bug smashing on the ground.

She didn’t want to believe that the impact had killed you, she knew how strong you were, you could survive, you could make it out of this with some broken bones.

As her feet landed on the ground, the sight of your body on the ground, frozen still. She kneeled down beside you, wanting to hold back her emotions, she hated to show her true feelings but seeing someone she considered her soul mate laying before her dead, her tears were threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Y/N,” She whispered more to herself, her hands reaching down to pick you up and hold you in her arms, sighing to herself.

The guilt and blame had washed over her quickly. It was her fault you were out here risking your life, she shouldn’t have pressured you to come but she had confidence that you would be the one to end this fight once and for all.

A few tears had slipped down her cheeks, shaking her head as the anger boiled inside of her. She was going to make him pay for this, she was going to kill him with her bare hands no matter what.

She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want to leave your dead body here and she didn’t want to leave you behind but what more could she do? Carry you around while everyone is fighting for their lives? She grunted, walking inside one of the broken down house and laid you on the floor.

She had taken her jacket off, looking down at you one last time, not knowing if she’ll be able to come back and collect your body for a proper burial. Her heart was broken, it pained her to see you like this but she needed to keep herself together- for the others.

“I’ll be back for you, I promise.” She mumbled, laying her jacket over your face after she had planted a single kiss to your forehead before returning back to the fight.

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Sasha:

The scouts were doing a short expedition that shouldn’t be of much trouble, it was just to explore boundaries and figure out future plans that needed to be set.

But randomly a crowd of titans had showed up unexpectedly. You were told that not many would be out and this would be an easy mission to get through before going home but you knew by the large crowd, you weren’t going home anytime soon.

You glanced over at Sasha, a look of panic written on her face and as you both stood high up on the tree, you reached over to grab a hold of her hand to reassure her that everything would be alright.

“Don’t panic, I’m sure this would be a breeze.” You said confidently and she gave you a weak smile, squeezing onto your hand.

“Just don’t die on me.” She said sarcastically, moving her feet to stand closer to you as the both of you looked down at the Titans that were only getting closer.

“Same goes for you.” She laughed at your words, feeling much better about the situation and before she leaped off the tree, she had given you one last smile and blew you a kiss.

You had watched her swing along the trees, you were in complete awe with how talented she actually is with the gear and being able to take down some Titans no problem.

But once you heard the others swing down, you had snapped back into reality and jumped off the tree branch, feeling the wind gush up against your face before you had shot the wire into the tree and swung up in the air.

It wasn’t hard to take down most of them but once you heard there were more problems deep inside of the woods, something the scouts weren’t aware of except for Levi’s team and Eren himself.

You had taken it in your own hands and risked going deeper to be of some help since the Titans were under control near the edge of the woods. But once you made it towards the middle, you instantly regretted your decision as your eyes stared up at the female titan.

“Y/N, you need to go back!” You heard Eren shout towards you as all of Levi’s team laid out around you dead.

Everything was spinning, you head was spinning and you felt lightheaded but the look of determination on the female Titans face as she stared down at Eren, it clicked in your mind that he was first priority. Levi would want you to protect him.

“Eren just ride to the others, I’ll distract her.”

“But you’ll die just like them!”

“As long as you have time to run away, I’m fine with that just go.” You looked at him, nodding your head and watched him ride away through the woods.

Before she could try to run after him, you flew up and sliced through the skin on her ankles which somewhat prevented her from running right away. You just needed to give Eren a few minutes, that’s it. Nothing else mattered but his safety.

It wasn’t long till Levi had swung in and tried to help you and at first it was working until one wrong turn and the female titan had grabbed onto the wire that was attached to your gear.

She had spun around, dragging you by the wire and let go to watch you fly pass the trees and eventually hitting one pretty hard. Instantly you can feel a few of your bones break at the impact, making you fall to the ground in pain.

She didn’t even bother trying to finish you off, her mind was set on Eren and she quickly ran away. Levi landed in front of you, looking down at you state and cursed under his breath, he could tell you weren’t going to be able to stand on your own.

“Just go, I’ll be fine.” You groaned, wiping the blood from your mouth and his eyes had stared into yours, deciding whether or not he should actually leave you here and he did after saying he’ll have someone come back for you.

But while you sat up against the tree, having a hard time breathing properly, you could hear a familiar voice yelling in the distance calling for you. You had tried to move but everything hurt too much, making you sit still.

You finally saw Sasha come in view, her eyes landed on you and they grew wide as she quickly jumped off her horse and ran to where you were. She started to panic at the way you were covered in blood and she could tell a few bones were noticeably broken.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?” She asked, looking down at your legs and reached down to try to grab a hold of you.

“Sasha..” You barely said loud enough at first but she continued to try to lift you up and hold your body up.

“Sasha just leave me here, I’ll only slow you down.” You spoke louder, the pain unbearable and you could feel it take over your entire body.

“What? No!” She yelled at you, practically carrying you to her horse and tried her best to put you on top of it, almost failing but she managed to do it.

“Don’t ever tell me to leave you, are you crazy?” She scoffed, jumping on behind you and made sure you were leaned back comfortably against her chest as she rode through the woods.

Your eyes moved to look up at her, a small weak smile coming across your lips as you tried to wipe the blood leaking down your face as it tickled your skin. You couldn’t help the pain shoot through your body but you were also glad you were alive to be with Sasha just a bit longer.

“I love you.” You mumbled up to her, making her eyes shoot down to meet yours and she couldn’t help but laugh quietly, her heart racing.

She was grateful she even made it in time and that you were still breathing, she wouldn’t know how to live if she came a little too late.

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Annie:

(this one is gonna hurt a lil)

When Annie had started her mission to bring information back to Marley, she didn’t expect herself to fall for one of the Scouts that she went through the training corps with.

She always tried to stay away, keep her distance and do what she needed to do but you were always persistent and always got on her nerves which you enjoyed doing.

After a while, you grew on her more and more and eventually it turned into a little fling. She didn’t want to admit that she considered you two a couple and she also didn’t want to go too deep about feelings or go forward with asking you out.

So instead it was an unsaid thing between you two.

After a while, Reiner had caught on to the fling she had with you and he could see how much it distracted her from her mission and the reason why she was here.

He had tried to slap some sense into her and even threatened her on many occasions, nothing ever worked but nothing can scare Annie so easily. But she knew if Reiner had even tried to lay a finger on you, he was dead.

But during one of the expeditions you were called on after the Armor titan had kicked another hole into the second wall, you were there to try to save as many civilians as possible but Reiner had another plan in mind.

He had somehow gotten you alone during the mission, asking for some help but he was lying, his plan to get you killed by a titan was on the top of his head, he needed to do it for Annie’s sake.

“I heard there’s more civilians over here, needed some help to collect them.” Reiner said to you, making you nod your head and follow him.

Until he purposely jammed up your gear, forcing you to stumble down on the ground at the perfect place and time- a titan stumbling along towards the both of you.

“Reiner, what the fuck?” You shouted up at him, your eyebrows furrowing together and you slid your blade back out.

“No hard feelings.” He said, staring down at you from the rooftop.

He had watched the titan stumble closer to you and it didn’t take long for it to eventually catch up to you and without your gear, it was no use, you were dead.

The titan had easily bitten down onto your leg, ripping it clean off and doing the same with your arm, making you practically bleed to death as you screamed with agony, the last thoughts in your head was of Annie.

She had swung through the air, looking around for you when she hasn’t seen you in a long period of time which was unusual, your team was stationed not too far from hers- she would’ve seen you by now.

She had an awful feeling in the back of her head, like something bad was gonna happen. And she believed it when she had seen Reiner with you.

“What’s going on here?” She said, walking up behind the both of you but you were laid out on the ground.

Her eyes had went wide, seeing your body on the ground- half eaten.

“I tried to save them but I was too late.” Reiner lied through his teeth as her body shook with anger, she didn’t believe one word from his mouth.

“You did this, didn’t you? You forced a titan to capture Y/N.” She mumbled, her skin growing hot as her hand gripped the sword and she glared up at him.

“Maybe they’re just not that good as they seem.”

Annie swung her fist, punching him straight in the jaw and watched him stumble back on the roof, almost falling over and Bertholdt had landed behind them, stepping in the middle.

“Hey, stop it!” He yelled, making her eyes glare at him as well before her full attention landed on you.

She sighed under her breath, she should’ve known this would happen. She wasn’t meant to be tied down because every time it happened, it ended badly. Maybe she was bad luck.

She kneeled down to pick up your body, wanting to scream, maybe even transform and kill the both of them for doing this to you. Most of all, she wanted to cry and she was never good at expressing emotions. She never cried, never smiled but when she was around you- it was different- she felt every emotion.

“I’m so sorry.” Annie mumbled, her eyes staring down at you and her heart felt empty again.

It was empty before you then you filled it up with such love and happiness and now she was back to being empty, back to feeling alone and angry. She wished she didn’t put you through this, such pain and suffering just by being with her. She felt guilt and she just wished she could have saved you and protected you.

“I’m sorry.”

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Annie’s is kinda short but I tried😳

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[p4lparker]

Calming Touch, Racing Hearts

You could feel his calm breathing, his chest rising and falling smoothly as he slept soundly. You on the other hand couldn’t get your mind to stop racing- you’d panicked, when it came down to it you were scared. Not of him- or the act, just what it might result in; over the past few days, you couldn’t see how this situation could possibly resolve without one or more of the party being hurt. You cared for both of your boys, deeply. And those feelings had only been more cemented. They were two sides of the same coin.

JJ like a wildfire, that spread through your body like a current of electricity. He was rash, and full of bravado; but that was only to cover the pain he was in, he relied on you and John B for more than friendship. He was beautiful and broken. But he was caring and sweet, loyal to a fault. He was carved by the gods- his eyes the bluest thing you’d seen since the ocean. His smile could light up the darkest of rooms. And he would protect you and John B regardless of the cost to himself. He made you feel safe and loved, in the small things he would do for you; like buying himself Reese’s and then letting you devour them instead as he knew they were your favourites, like when he carried an extra hoodie because you would always get cold and would never bring one yourself, like when he constantly touches you in some way or other whether it’s a hand twirling the ends of your hair or fingers tracing patterns on any exposed skin. You bit your lip as you felt John B pull you closer in his sleep, and the guilt that washed over you felt almost unbearable.

And then there was the boy holding you close to him now. John B was the calm before the storm- where JJ was rash and impulsive, John B was cool and collected. He was just as beautiful as JJ- dark gaze always betraying his emotions, they were always displayed so clearly for all to see. John B was the light to JJ’s dark. He made you feel calm like waves lapping at the shore, being with John B felt like coming home after an adventure. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, and was always tried to what he felt- letting his heart lead him and get him into trouble more times than not. John B was gentle- fingers ghosting over your skin, and he had an obsession with your hands. His fingers playing with the tips of your own or stroking the delicate skin of your wrist.

Your mind was a blur, thoughts about both boys were vying for your attention and your heart. But neither was winning out- whenever you thought about your future all you could see was you and your boys. If you imagined going on a date with one of them- a day dream about the other would pop into your head. And thinking about these boys were driving you to despair. You felt a deep sigh leave you lips, your phone buzzing and chiming beside you- swiping on the screen you saw the weather update, this storm was the tip of the ice berg, there was more to come, much more. You brushed your hair from your face and turned to look at the sleeping boy beneath you, raising a hand an stroking along his cheek softly, watching as his lips quirked into a gentle smile before his eyes opened and his blurry gaze was settled on you.

“Hey you… Guess I fell asleep…”He whispered, his voice rough form sleep, he just looked so soft. Hair even more of a mess than usual, hazel eyes unfocused and droopy and the content smile still tugging at his soft lips. His eyes gazed up at you, and it felt like he as trying to read your mind. “You didn’t sleep though…” He murmured, bushy brows furrowing as he lifted a hand and let his thumb smooth across the frown lines on your forehead and between your own brows. You shook your head and smiled slightly.

“How’d you guess?” You asked, letting your finger tap against his throat in time to the steady beating of his heart and pulse. You watched as his expressive eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat.

“You always look really cute when you just wake up… you get all soft and pouty… But now you’re all frowny..” He muttered, his own brows slanting downwards to match your own. You raised you brows and painted a smile on your face- before pushing yourself up and off him, and reaching blindly for clothes that were still scattered around the pair of you. Tugging on articles of clothing haphazardly you tossed a shirt and some shorts to him as he stayed laying on his back watching you dress. The clothing landing on his face and he let out an ‘oof ‘ as they landed in a pile. You moved the fabric from his eyes and showed him the weather update.

“We should be getting back to your place.. it’ll need storm proofing..” You stated and continued to shimmy clothes onto your cold body. You could feel the tension settling within your body once more. And you didn’t want to let John B in on your inner monologue- so rushing him to get redressed and hide his tempting body from your greedy eyes. He got dressed- though his gaze never faltered from you, even when you both were situated in the seats up front and he was manoeuvring the Twinkie through the rainy streets; the storm having let up slightly, the thunder and lightning having stopped a short while ago, and the darkness of the evening drawing in. The wet road seemed to stretch on before you for eternity, and the journey to the chateau seemed to take forever and a day- your leg was bouncing as you tried to rid yourself of the nervous energy your body seemed to be storing; you were coming to the realisation that you needed some advice, and that meant Kie. You wondered whether you should reveal all to her or try and keep her mostly in the dark- you swiped and tapped at the screen of your phone- letting Kie know you were on your way to her, now all you needed to do was make a get-away from John B, you wracked your brain as he pulled onto the dirt track drive in front of the chateau. You followed him in to the messy building, stepping over pizza boxes and empty beer cans and bottles. You watched as he paced around slightly, something bothering him- from the frown marring his handsome face to the darkening of his eyes, and the way his hand carded through his curls- it was obvious he had something on his mind, and he was trying to find the words to broach the subject.

“Hey, are we okay?” He blurted, his other hand which wasn’t caught in his curls catching on your wrist and tugging you to him. You nodded and tried to paint a convincing smile on your face. His frown only deepened.

“Look, if its about what happened in the van… It’s fine. Like me and Jay said; this goes at your pace.. what you say goes..” John B murmured as he tugged you closer and let go of his hair before wrapping you up in his arms; face burying in your hair as he dropped a kiss to the crown of your head. You cuddled closer to him and breathed him in, he chuckled lightly- you knew he was right, but you felt almost guilty. You were the one who’d asked him for this, and then suddenly you didn’t want it. You head was a mess as he let you go.

“I’m going to grab a shower… and you are more than welcome to join, like Kie says we need to preserve the planet.. so we should conserve water and all..” He grinned and even gave you a cheeky wink as he stepped backwards in the direction of the bathroom, his fingers trailing down your arm until they were only touching the tips of your own as he stepped further away. You laughed, the joy bubbling in your belly as you pushed him away from you. He scoffed and held a hand to his chest in mock hurt, before shrugging and making his way to the bathroom. You waited until you could hear the shower running before booking it from the chateau and into the darkness. You didn’t hear him calling your name- he’d wandered into the main room and expected to see you on the pull out, but he was on his own, his apology falling into the loneliness of the chateau.

Your feet leading you to the Carrera’s place on auto-pilot, your mind focused on how the next conversation was going to go between you and Kie. You were still undecided as to whether or not you should admit to Pogue- on-Pogue-on-Pogue macking. You clambered up the handy tree outside her window and crawled through the open window, Kie waiting for you sat crossed legged on her bed. Mirroring her- you sat facing her and with one look at your face, she quirked one of her brows at you and waved a hand gesturing for you vent- and with that one motion, it all flooded from you like a river bursting its dam, words flying from your lips so quickly Kie’s head shook and her eyes widened as she tried to keep up.

“I’m doing something and I’m not sure it’s a good idea anymore. But I’m not sure I want to stop, but if I don’t someone could end up hurt..” You stated, hands waving in front of you as you spoke. “I’ve been hooking up.. or rather learning how to hook up with someone, or well two someone’s and I think I have feelings for them both and it’s a mess. But I don’t really want to stop… But then I kinda did today cause when it came time to actually hook upI freaked and told him to stop..”

“Did he? Stop?” She interrupted her hands clasping onto your own, and you froze- brows furrowing. But nodded.

“Of course he did.. its in the rules; at my pace. But I really want to have sex with him and the other guy… but I dunno, I guess I’m scared. Cause I don’t want to get hurt and I can’t bear to think about not having either one of them in my life if it works out with one of them and not the other.. I couldn’t lose either of them ever…” You rambled, barely breathing as the words spewed forth and Kie took them all in- a small smirk resting on her pretty face.

“So how long have you been fucking around with Jay and John B?” she asked, glancing at her nails, pretending to not be bothered. But you gasped, and tried to cover it with a cough.

“What makes you think its them?” You tried tom laugh it off, but the laugh came out nervously, and you may as well be carrying a sign telling her. She rolled her eyes and laughed.

“How long Y/N?” She asked again, not playing along with your bullshit. You sighed and tugged at your head, she shook her head and pulled you around like a rag doll until you sat with your back to her and he was able to get her hands in your hair and begin to braid it- her fingers twisting and turning your hair soothing you.

“Not long… but they’re them. And I can’t stop myself falling under their spell when they make me feel so good. And they’re treating me so well, they go at my pace and when I’m with them- it sounds cheesy, but I feel complete… But I don’t want to hurry anyone. I mean its not like if things work out we can all be together- and I can’t imagine the rest of my life without them in it…” You whispered out, Kie’s fingers tucking strand after strand of your hair around, seemingly being the key to ease you enough to stop your mouth running at the same speed as your mind.

“Who says you can’t? Have you spoken to them about this? Have you even asked them about it?” She asked you, her voice soft in your ear as she continued to braid.

“You’re right… They might not even be interested in me. Like they could just be doing this to help out a friend… so the only person who could get hurt is me… well fuck…” you whined the last part and shook your head, until Kie gave your tresses a sharp tug and tisked.

“Not what I meant, its obvious those boys would literally die for you. I don’t know when it happened- but I’m pretty sure they both love you or are even in love with you..” she stated matter-of-factly. “I meant who says you can’t be with both of them? Nothing has to change between you guys… I mean you’re practically together with them as it is!” She exclaimed, it was you turn to scoff at her- and she gripped your shoulders, making you turn to look at her over your shoulder.

You stayed silent and mulled over her words; and even you couldn’t deny there was some truth ringing through them, when all of this started, it had never been awkward as you imagined it could be, and the euphoria you felt when you were with them was undeniable. You let your mind wander; the boys treated you with the utmost respect. Each showing they cared in their own way. Your heart pattered unevenly as you imagined your life with them both, and maybe Kie had a point, maybe it wouldn’t be all that different to how things were currently? As you were lost in your own mind, Kie had finished twisting your hair into two braids and was tying them off with hair ties. You breathed in deeply, and nodded to yourself.

“So how come I stopped him? Like what if I’m not ready?” you whispered out, the Carrera girl smiled and tugged on one of your braids.

“You’re ready, when you’re ready. It’s up to you and you said yourself he respected that when you asked him to stop… and its in your rules. You set the pace remember?” Kie stated holding your hand in her own and squeezing gently. You bit your lip and smiled at her, before dropping a kiss to her cheek and thanking her as you made your way back out of her window and into the heavy rain. You’d made up your mind, you wanted John B and JJ. And you needed to show them that, you would start with John B. So you made your way back to the chateau- the rain soon soaking you as your walk-jog to his place seemed to last a lifetime. Streets passing in a blur as the rain trickled into your eyes. When you finally made your way to the chateau, you felt like you were in a cheesy romcom scene; running to admit your love for the main character- slowing your pace even more and letting the rain truly soak you, you tried the shake the cliché from yourself as you entered the ramshackle home- no knocking necessary as the door was never locked to any of you, this place was as much your home as his. And there he was sprawled on the pull out, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as the tv played in the background, beer abandoned on the floor beside him and a half eaten pizza accompanying it. When you barged through the door, he shot up- eyes wide as he took in your drenched form.

“Y/N.. what the..?” he started as you took steps towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your soggy self against him as your lips found his. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was passionate- it had that familiar languid pace which as John B entirely. His hands found their way to your cheeks and he cradled your face between them, his plush lips caressing your own, as his breathing became more laboured as the kiss continued until he could take it no longer and reluctantly pulled away from your lips- your lips soon missing the pressure of his and went searching for them.

“Not that I’m complaining, like at all, but what the hell are you doing coming here in this weather?” he whispered, not trusting his voice just yet- as his forehead rest against your own. His breath fanning across your face, as you panted lightly.

“I needed to see you. I ditched you and ran away from you like a little bitch cause I was scared… But I’m not scared anymore and I want you.. I want you to teach me my next lesson!” You stated softly, surging forwards and meeting his lips with your own once more. Your tongue traced over his bottom lip seeking entrance- and that was when he pulled away again, making you sigh in frustration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, eyes searching your own as he held your face delicately between his large hands. You rolled your eyes but smiled at the same time.

“At my pace right? Well this is me setting the pace… so take me to your bedroom and teach me Routledge…” You whispered, staring into his dark gaze as his eyes widened slightly- his mouth dropping open slightly.

“Yes Ma’am…” He murmured against your lips as his hands dropped from your face to grip your own and lead you through the house- he stumbled slightly every couple of steps as he was not only walking backwards but also connected to your lips and with his eyes closed, it was a minor miracle you both made it to his room without serious injury- instead the journey was filled with giggles muffled by kisses. Once in his room, his kisses became more- tongues tangling and teeth nipping, bottom lips were sucked and breathing began to race as fast the hearts beating within your chests. Your hands wandered him; tracing over the muscles of his shoulders, his biceps, his chest- the pounding of his heart underneath your palm, his abs- stomach tensing and twitching at the ticklish contact before settling on his waist and pulling him closer- so the entirety of your soaked front was pressed against his shirtless one. Goose bumps raising on expanse of you both. His lips met the corner of yours before venturing downwards and meeting the sensitive flesh of your neck- leaving wet kisses, his tongue flicking out before his teeth nibbled into the skin making sure to leave a faint ache there as a mark was delivered. He let his hands drift to your hips and tugged on the drenched and borrowed t-shirt you were wearing- he struggled to pull it up your body, the sopping material clinging to every part of you- it getting stuck on your head and made the pair of you split from each other as you worked in tandem to rid you of the shirt. You both laughed victoriously as the offensive fabric was tossed carelessly across the room as far away from you as possible. John B brushed some of the baby hairs- which had fallen loose from your braids during the struggle- before his fingers dug their way through the tangled tresses and pulled your lips needily against his own. He began to move you backwards until the back of your knees met the soft edge od his bed- he leaned into you until you tumbled back, him following and landing atop you.

Your kisses travelled along his pouty lips and chiselled jaw to his tanned neck, gentle and tickling kisses being left there. His fingers traced along the edge of the bra covering you from him, tips dipping below a cup and teasing your already hardened nipples- smoothing over it before flicking at it- causing it to harden more, his clothed hips thrusting against you own as the needy whine left your throat. His finger traced lower the calloused pads tickling against your stomach making giggles erupt from you and vibrate against him. his hand cupping and rubbing against you clothed core- leaving you wondering whether your panties were wet from the rain or the arousal coursing through you. His deft fingers found the button and the zipper on your shorts- undoing them both and moving to wriggle the sodden material down your hips and thighs before being removed from you entirely. One of his skilled hands found its way to your cloth covered core and began teasing you through the material as his lips claimed your own once more. His fingers tracing up and down you still covered slit- moving to rub figure eights onto you clothed clit- eliciting the most delicious moan he’d ever heard from you, continuing their ministrations the tips of his other fingers tugged the saturated material to the side before they ventured within your drenched folds. At the contact a high pitched whine echoed around you. His lips left yours to nip at your chest, chin nudging the cup of your bra out of his way as his plush lips captured your hardened peak- laving it with attention, his hand left your core the slide behind you and undo the irritating fabric, pulling it from your body and taking his time to marvel at you.

His fingers swiftly returned to your hips, tugging on the band of your underwear and pulling them too from your body, leaving you completely bare before him- making you skin heat in a flush that made him groan and bury his head in your neck marking up your pretty skin. Trailing his lips further down until they met the skin just under your breast- he let his attentions focus there as he left a more prominent mark, which wouldn’t be easily hidden in your usual summer attire and activities. His fingers moved between your slick folds, doing the most sinful of things- building you up, winding the coil deep within you belly tighter and tighter- your release so close, but just out of reach making you whine out frustratedly. John B chuckled huskily as his lips found yours again, his tongue working it’s way in to your mouth once more, teasing yours in a similar fashion to that of his fingers. And as he plunged his middle and ring finger within your slick entrance and began pumping with purpose you felt yourself teeter over the edge and the knot within you snapped with a high pitched keen- which was muffled by his pouty lips. his fingers pumped within you lazily- coaxing you through your high, as you hand began to wander down the expanse of him once more. One palm grazing against the prominent bulge within the confines of his shorts- you rubbed against him as he huffed out air and moaned in your ear- as his head fell to your shoulder. His reaction to your hands movements spurring you to unbutton and unzip him; before reaching into the tight fabric and meeting the soft flesh beneath, pulling a gasp from you at his lack of underwear. He pulled your hand from him, before kissing you swiftly on the lips once more before moving himself from you and tugging his shorts from his body- leaving him bare before your greedy gaze. He sprang free- the russet tip leaking, the slit glistening in the low lighting of the dark room- it was silent, barring your panting breaths and pounding hearts. You reached a hand towards him once more, but his hands clasped onto your wrists before you could make contact.

“Are you sure? We can stop now if you like…” He asked, dark gaze locked on yours- eyes searching for a response, you just smiled and nodded your head before cradling his chin and pulling his kiss swollen lips towards your own in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he puffed out the breath he had been holding and turned to his bedside table, delving a hand within and retrieving the small foil packet. He held it up for you to see, and you reached forward and took it from his hand- holding it within your sweaty one. You ripped the packaging open and proceeded to pull the protection from its confines, before manoeuvring it to roll onto his awaiting member, rolling down his length and pumping him a couple of times before kissing his lips gently once more. you then moved to lay back on the bead- head resting against the pillows that smelled of him, your heart racing with anticipation as his fingers delved within you once more- gathering some of your slick and coating himself with it, letting his fingers linger and tease you for a short time before sliding himself up and ontop of you, his hips nestling between your spread legs, his weight being supported by one of his strong arms beside your head as the other hand laved your most intimate area with attention- his lips seeking your own in a searing kiss as he began to push into you. You hissed at the feeling, it wasn’t necessarily painful, but it was kind of uncomfortable- it was a strange feeling to be connected with him, as you felt full almost complete as he pushed further into you. His lips leaving your to pepper soft kisses around your face and neck, before he buried his head in the crook of your neck as he bottomed out within. He fought the urge to begin moving before you were ready, waiting for you to tilt your hips to urge him on. And once he had that confirmation, he pulled back agonisingly slowly before pushing back in at the same pace. He slid within you easily, your slick coating him, and your thighs as he moved at a languid pace.

Your moan loud in his ear as you became accustomed to surrounding him in the most intimate of ways, urging him to move faster- his hips surging forwards and retreating at a quicker pace as his own moans flooded the room. A giggle escaping you as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure and dig your nails into the tan flesh of his back, leaving a white trail as you dragged them down before they met the curve of his ass. Your hands resting there and then grabbing a cheek in each hand and pushing him closer to you. John B got the message and whined out as his hips began a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your own- skin meeting skin and lips meeting lips as he climbed closer to his peak. He was reaching his end, but he knew you were nowhere near, and so he tried to hold himself back, but the warm, welcoming tightness encompassing him was too much, his rhythm faltered and his hips moved erratically as he reached the peak.

“Y/N..”was groaned sinfully in your ear as he emptied into the protection. You stroked your hands down his back and hair as he calmed from the high. His spent body collapsing atop your own. His weight a comfort as your calming touch tried to ease your racing hearts. All too soon he was sliding himself from you with a sickening squelching sound, he slide down your body and you leaned yourself up onto your elbows curiously as you watched him bury his head between your thighs, and as his tongue met your sensitive and slick flesh a gasp left your kiss-swollen lips. He licked along your lower lips. He then dove in- tongue tasting you- licking and caressing you the way his lips had done elsewhere. Your breathing becoming laboured at the sensations on your already stimulated core. He focused lips on your sensitive nub, lips closing around it and suckling gently making you whine. His lips and tongue worked you as if telling your core the most salacious secrets, you were reaching your end. The familiar tightening in your belly becoming almost too much to bear as your legs went numb, a truly sinful noise leaving your delicate lips- almost had him hardening at the sound. He let his tongue and lips clean you of your juices before his head reappeared from the depths of your thighs. His plush lips and chin glistening with the evidence of your orgasm. He wiped at his chin with he back of his hand- but left the slick on his lips as he met yours in a sordid kiss; letting you taste yourself on him, to him you were the sweetest nectar, and he wanted to share it with you. As your lazy kisses became pecks- he pushed himself away from you, moving around the room, he discarded of the used condom in the small trash bin near the door- before leaving the room, and as you watched his back move away from you. A panic settled within your chest- as your mind replayed the image of him walking away from you in your minds eye, until his smiling face re-entered the bedroom his hands holding a washcloth, which he used to clean you sensitive core properly. Before tossing it away into some unknown corner of the room- he then jumped onto the bouncy bed beside you and laid back. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders he tugged you to lay atop him, your ear pressed to his chest. And he kissed you gently; your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your nose, your jaw and then finally your lips. the kiss was soft- but was full of the emotions John B was bursting to tell you, but couldn’t, not yet. So for now the gentle kiss sufficed, as the two of your succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

[vagrantblvrd]

anakin doesn't fall to the dark side - meet the parents dinluke?

Yesssss.

Because all the AUs where Skywalker family drama is due to Anakin causing a diplomatic incident at a Fancy Dinner when he accidentally mortally offends someone who asks his opinion about sand, and not you know, the whole Darth Vader thing.

Also, the Jedi Order looking long and hard about that stance on attachment and other things because wow, okay, wow.

(But also, I must Drama a teensy bit, because yes.)

Obi-Wan enjoying the grandparent benefit of getting the joy of having Luke and Leia? But also watching Anakin deal with these little terrors of his and feels it’s payback for what he went through with just one of Anakin.

Leia who may have followed Padme into politics but everyone knows she takes after Anakin in temperament. Luke’s the one to follow Anakin in becoming a Jedi, but he’s more like his mother in temperament.

Ahsoka adores the twins, and is in fact one of their favorite partners in crime, and Anakin is like, pls, pls, stop turning my children against me,pls.

Also? Padme is kind of the worst because she’s taught them everything she knows about political maneuvering and the whatnot.

Anakin is convinced they’ll have the entire galaxy on its knees before them one day soon.

Anyway.

Luke who goes gallivanting about for reasons and after one gallivanting about trip he comes back all :DDDDDDDDDDDDD and *___________________________* and Anakin has no idea what happened other than Luke’s X-wing being shot down and him being stranded on some backwater planet somewhere for ages before the search party found him?

But when they found him he was just. Like That, and also holding this little metal ball in his hand, rolling it back and forth like it was a calming thing, little smile on his face.

Also, he went to Coruscant to speak to Yoda and only the two of them know what was said? But Yoda’s been even more insufferable than usual, livelier? Something.

(It’s a Thing known among Jedi that Master Yoda was changed when a youngling went missing years ago, kidnapped or something. Some say Yoda feels it was his fault, that the guilt still weighs heavy on him, but it’s hearsay and rumor.)

Anyway.

A few months after Luke’s rescue from that backwater planet Luke goes and gets in trouble. (He doesn’t know if the fact Leia is with him makes the whole thing better or worse? Between the two of them there’s hardly need for a rescue at all, but also the thing where they might finally take over the galaxy if left to their own devices so.)

Rescuing his kid(s).

Again.

Obi-Wan is suitably worried, but also amused as hell and really, Obi-Wan, Anakin was never that bad. Was he? Obi-Wan? Are you choking? You don’t sound well.)

Anakin and the others headed off to rescue Luke, and it turns into them going from place to place, chasing rumors and gossip and one one of these planets they run into this Mandalorian.

Flys an old gunship that looks like it’s on its last legs and wears beskar and also -

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan says, when they see the kid riding along in a bag the Mandalorian carries.

Anakin thinks it’s just the thing where the kid is clearly one of Yoda’s species, but Obi-Wan’s reaction is a little too much for somthing so simple, obvious.

Anyway, the Mandalorian tells them he can help them find Luke and Leia, and at first Anakin isn’t that thrilled about adding him to the rescue party?

But then the kid pulls out this little...trinket, charm, something Anakin and Padme gifted Luke as a child that he carries - carried - around as a good luck token, or at least that’s what he always says. (Ducks his head, sheepish little smile and Anakin and Padme like, aw, our kid is a dork like us,)

Point is, Anakins recognizes it, and the comes in like, my dude, connect the fucking dots, you’re killing me.

Which is how Anakin meets Luke’s ~sekrit boyfriend and his kid.

(Only not so much ~sekrit as Luke had plans to introduce Din to his parents and such, but the whole surprise!Dangerous Adventure thing happened first.)

Anakin being like >:( because protective parent and all?

But as they search for clues as to Luke and Leia’s whereabouts he gets to see just how concerned for Luke Din is, and how much he loves his tiny green gremlin kid, and Din’s overall skill and competence? Also, though, also. He’s smart, not just a blunt weapon, and he’s like oh, no, because he knows his son? But it’s not a bad feeling when he thinks it, just.

A little sad, wistful, what with Luke not being a kid anymore - he’s known that for a while now, but this cements the reality and all.

It’s not the surprise he thought it was when Anakin realizes he likes Din as a person, although it’s not like he’s going to say it, you know?

(I mean, he does because he’s not a complete bastard, but that’s not the point.)

They catch a break, catch up to Luke and Leia and Anakin discovers he really, really likes the way Din just absolutely destroys any baddies stupid enough to get between him and Luke, matches Anakin’s protectiveness and he’s like -

“Hey, once this is over we’re going to talk.” Smiles with perhaps too many teeth showing at Din’s confusion. “About you and my kid.

He can’t see Din’s reaction to that, because armor? But he feels this flare of !!! through the Force before it gets shoved aside in favor or getting to Luke, panic later?

And then!

Dramatic rescues and Anakin and Din decimating the baddies by themselves - Obi-Wan’s dealing with things like anti-air batteries and shield generators. Ahsoka’s making sure no one sneaks up behind Anakin and Din, but she honestly doesn’t have much to do in that regard.

And then!

Anakin is like, aw, man, I’m right here, when there’s the moment Luke and Din are ~reunited and Din is like, gos so, so still and Luke’s the one to press his forehead against Din’s because hey, hey, hes fine, he’s right here, and also hi, i missed you with them being separated even before Luke and Leia’s latest Adventure.

Still, Anakin lets them have their moment and goes to check on Leia, who gives them a look like took your time, didn’t you? But there’s relief in her eyes and she doesn’t say anything as he wraps her in a hug, calls her the nickname he gave her when she was  kid and she laughs because it’s a dumb nickname dad, but it’s kind of their joke, and anyway, she had everything in hand, didn’t she? He’s just here for the cleanup.

And then! Some more!

It turns out Luke and Leia got wrapped up in some conspiracy nonsense, Palpatine’s followers who have been hiding in the shadows all this time and opportunity for revenge against the ~great Anakin SKywaler by targeting his kids.

Only the baddies miscalculated because they went after his and Padme’s kids, and everyone knows they’re complete terrors, you know? The worst.

After everything’s dealt with and they head home, Anakin is almost as amused as Leia and Obi-Wan at the way Din is all but glued to Luke’s side, that tiny green gremlin kid of his just as bad.

Anakin’s heart grows three sizes when he watches the Very Solemn exchange of the little metal ball Luke brought back with him that one time and the trinket/chram/good luck token Grogu’s been holding on to.

Valuable treasures trusted on one another’s safekeeping until they saw one another again, and Din is like. Freaking hearteyes over the two of them, because his family, and Anakin just sighs

Obi-Wan totally not laughing at him now that Anakin has no right to play the overprotetcive, disapproving father card on Din after everything he’s seen of the man and how he feels about Luke.

“Disappointed?” Obi-Wan asks, and he’s smirking as he does.

Anakin doesn’t bother with an answer because Obi-Wan knows the answer.

Something along the lines of no, and you know better, Obi-Wan, with a oh, Padme’s going to love him,because of course she is. He makes her son very, very happy, after all.

(Best, best thing, however, is Padme meeting Din, when they arrive home. Din nervous and worried because Luke’s told him about his mother, how terrifying she can be, a force of nature, and clear he adores her.

And Padme looking between Din and his son holding Grogu with this radiant smile. So in love, and easy enough to see his love returned, and everything she could have asked for for her son.)

[4ragon]

do you have any thoughts on the dynamic between iris and dahlia??

Ooo that’s an interesting one.

There is a wide spectrum of sibling dynamics in this game. We’ve got the Mia & Maya dynamics, the Apollo & Trucy dynamics, the Miles & Franziska dynamics, but then on the other side of that spectrum we have the Gavins or, case in point, Iris and Dahlia.

Listen. Dahlia on her own is fascinating. Iris on her own is also pretty fascinating. But when viewed as a pair? Good lord. Horrible and awful and deeply interesting all at the same time.

I mean, right off the bat, Dahlia at the age of maybe eight?????? don’t fact check me on that one convinced her father to just Get Rid Of Her? Because they had too many children?? Like. That’s fucked up. That’s horrible. That’s wild. That’s gotta be traumatizing for any child. And it’s gotta at least affect both of them deeply, like. Iris is abandoned for being “An Extra Dahlia” which, you know, I think clearly fucks up her own values, self perception, and self worth for years to come. And then Dahlia knows that she can do this kind of shit and get away scot free, and learns that anyone, even family, can be used and tossed out, that’s not healthy for any child’s development either.

God. Like. Can you even imagine? Your father (a wealthy jeweler by the way, so he has the MEANS to take care of all the children) just deciding he only needed to keep around one twin and basically gives the other one to a convent? What the fuck is wrong with Mr. Hawthorne??? Then of course there’s the fact that Morgan’s constant 4D chess meant she didn’t give a shit about them either, so it’s clearly coming from all sides in this family.

Honestly, I think Iris being given up by the Hawthornes was probably the most formative moment of her life. Like, on the one hand, she gets Bikini, who is this kind, motherly woman who actually cares about her. On the other, I think it really cemented in Iris’s mind that she is the Extra Dahlia, the extraneous twin who doesn’t have any value in herself. Dahlia, too, I think internalized that. Iris is the extraneous twin, the less important twin. She’s the shier twin, the weaker twin. Of course, Dahlia also sees the rest of the world like a tool to be used, but I think that goes double for Iris because she’s where Dahlia learned to think that way.

Then, of course, there’s Iris’s various ‘betrayals’ of Dahlia. Like, Iris does some pretty heinous shit for Dahlia, so it’s interesting to see what she draws the line at. She agreed to help steal the diamond and frame a man for it, but chickened out at the last second. Dahlia almost died, and Iris felt horrible about it, even if Dahlia is the one who put herself in that situation. Iris later agrees to date Phoenix under a different name to get the necklace back, and comes to realize that she would be willing to betray Dahlia again to save Phoenix, I assume both out of guilt and love. Like, that’s a lot of extreme stuff she was doing for Dahlia, and a lot of people she was betraying for her.

And again, I feel like her becoming “Dollie” is just another part of her being unable to become her own person, her being the “extraneous twin”. She gives up her identity for Dahlia, to ‘protect’ Dahlia in her own way. She didn’t care about Phoenix initially, she only cared about Dahlia having to dirty her hands, having to stain her soul.

Really Iris is always perfectly willing to sacrifice herself in all her interactions. She goes with Godot’s plan, willing to sacrifice herself for Maya. She sacrifices her own autonomy and identity to date Phoenix for months. I don’t think she really knows how to live for herself after everything she’s been through with Dahlia.

On the flip side, it’s very interesting to pick apart “Iris’s” dialogue after the switch. The first time through it’s hard to catch it, but once you know where the switch takes place (namely when they put up more trick locks in the inner temple), you can really see a lot about how Dahlia views Iris. 

I already talked about Iris’s guilt toward her sister, but a lot of the dialogue about her guilt are actually Dahlia pretending to be Iris. (Not all, just most.) Iris was scared and ran away during the heist. She betrayed her sister, and that’s why she deserved any and all punishment she received. It’s a little hard to parse out which parts are Dahlia playing the role of Iris and which parts she truly believed, but at the end of the day, her focus on guilt and betrayal was what she went with when pressed about ‘her sister’ while in her disguise.

Like. There’s absolutely some anger there. Iris was the one who betrayed Dahlia, after all. Iris was at fault. Iris was weak. I really wonder which parts of her Iris imitation were accurate? If Iris had expressed any of that to Dahlia?

I do think it’s interesting how outwardly similar they present themselves. Dahlia takes so much, she even takes Iris’s personality and wears it like a mask. She knows how to play the victim, how to be sweet. Actually, how much of Dahlia’s presentation is her imitating Iris, and how much of Iris is her taking from her sister?

Anyway, there you have it. A rather parasitic relationship if you ask me. One sister who makes sacrifice after sacrifice, and one sister who does nothing but take and take. 

Man. What a fun game.

[concernedbrownbread]

A Boy and His Cat

Day 1 for @adrienaugust: Bad Luck

In which Adrien finds a kitten, his charm gets stolen, and the universe is a meanie.

Oh, and Plagg is ... Plagg.

Read here or under the cut

Running away from school is becoming an unhealthy obsession of his.

Of course, Adrien waited until school let out for the morning to run away. He just didn’t want to have to drive all the way back to the Manor, eat in an empty dining hall, and then come back. It was a waste of petrol. Bad for the environment - and for his soul.

So he ran away from school, his beloved bodyguard chasing him half-heartedly for a while before waving goodbye and giving him a lecture on general safety.

After leaving school, he usually met up with Nino and the others, but today they were doing a group project he wasn’t part of. Which left him to wander the streets like a stray cat.

Speaking of -

A quiet mewl caught his attention. Adrien paused, ears perking up.

Definitely a cat, somewhere in the alley. Adrien loved cats, and had no sense of self-preservation, so he didn’t hesitate to check it out.

“Oh look Plagg, it’s you,” Adrien said dryly as his eyes caught on a little orange kitten, curled up against the wall.

“I’m way more personable,” Plagg protested.

Adrien gave him a look. Plagg huffed, crossing his arms and turning away.

The little cat mewed softly again, making Adrien soften immediately.

“Hey there little guy,” he cooed, “What’s your name?”

No collar or nametag. Maybe it really was a stray? Should he take it to the shelter? Or to a classmate? Subconsciously, Adrien reached out, slow enough to let the kitten come to him. Eventually, it did.

Adrien picked it up, delighted, “Aren’t you a cutie? Maybe I should keep you! I’ll name you - “

That’s when it noticed Plagg.

It’s ears flattened, pupils narrowing as it let out a hiss. Adrien yelped as it’s claws dug into the flesh of his hands, and he toppled backwards, something falling out of his pocket.

He barely had time to orientate himself when he realised what had fallen out.

His lucky charm, the one he’d gotten from Marinette.

His lucky charm, that kept all his bad luck away.

His lucky charm, which was being carried away in the cat’s mouth .

Adrien tried to give chase, but he slipped on wet cement, scratching his already injured hands in the process. When he looked up, the cat was gone, the lucky charm with it.

“This is all your fault Plagg.”

“I blame your bleeding heart.”

---

Adrien wasn’t superstitious by any means.

But he was. Right now. Without his favourite charm.

Adrien sniffled in his arms as he lay his head on them against the table. Nino slid into the seat beside him.

“You okay, bro?”

Adrien groaned.

“Aw, that sucks dude.”

Adrien whined.

“It’ll be okay.”

Alya looked between them, “You understood any of that?”

Nino shook his head solemnly, “Not a word, but a bros gotta do what a bros gotta do.”

Adrien un-buried his head for long enough to look up, “Thanks man.”

Alya shook her head, “Boys are strange,” and then turned to Marinette, who was stammering so hard she hadn’t gotten a single coherent word out. Alya nodded sympathetically, “I know exactly what you mean, girl.”

The sight of Marinette made Adrien’s gut churn with guilt. He decided right then and there to never let her know he lost the precious gift she had given him.

“Adrien,” Ms Bustier said, drawing his attention, “Did you turn in your homework?”

“I’m sure that I did.”

“I thought so too, but I couldn’t find it.”

Adrien buried his head back in his arms.

So it began.

---

“This is sad.” Plagg said.

Adrien had taken shelter from the universe in the bathroom. So far, he had tripped countless times (once into Rose’s art project, which he still wanted to apologise for), said something embarrassing at least thrice and ended up drenched in honey-and-feather twice.

Twice didn’t seem like a lot, but it was strange that it had happened at all.

He was currently removing the last of his feathers under Plagg’s scrutiny.

“How do you even become chicken-man?” Plagg asked, “I looked away for two seconds.”

“I need my lucky charm back,” Adrien said in lieu of a response.

“Maybe Chat Noir will have better luck.”

---

“Maybe Chat Noir will have better luck,” Chat Noir mocked, “Stupid Plagg. You can’t let the universe know your plans!”

Plagg grumbled somewhere in the back of Adrien’s mind, which he dutifully ignored. He continued his fruitless search, the sky darkening with angry clouds that reflected his mood well.

“I feel ridiculous,” he mumbled as he waved to passing fans who were cooing at him.

“That’s how the cat felt,” Plagg responded in his mind.

Adrien pouted. The cat was so cute, he couldn’t stop himself from cooing.

He sighed, ducking under a ladder that was wobbling dangerously. He steadied it, getting a thanks from the guy at the top in return, who was holding a brush with dripping white, a tub of paint balanced precariously on the edge of a ledge.

“I think I’ll have better luck as - as - “ dammit, he couldn’t let the universe know, “Whatever. Let’s just detransform some- “

That was when Chat Noir got drenched in white paint.

Which was what he got for walking under a ladder.

“I am so sorry, Chat Noir,” the guy on top of the ladder said, “Uh, it’s a nice look on you?”

Chat wiped paint from his eyes and promised the universe vengeance.

(Somewhere, Marinette shivered at the remembrance of Chat Blanc.)

---

“Here kitty kitty.”

“You know cats don’t understand English - “

“HERE KITTY KITTY!”

Plagg pouted, “Don’t ignore me Adrien.”

“I will ignore you all I like until you stop sitting around and actually help me.”

“I’m but a poor kwami,” Plagg yawned, “Do it yourself.”

Adrien huffed, poking his head into another alley, “I don’t even know where to start .”

“Maybe with an umbrella?”

“What - “

Now, Adrien was a Good Boy™. He hugged all his friends, kissed his plushies goodnight and tried to be Very Nice.

But he really, really wanted to break something when the first rain droplet hit his nose.

The ensuing downpour had him seeking shelter in yet another alley way. He was shivering from the cold, miserably getting ready to call it a day when Plagg drifted past him lazily.

“Oh hey, what’s that?”

Adrien whipped around, nearly tripping in the process.

“It’s -”

“A her.”

“It’s her!” Adrien hopped forward happily, ignoring the orange cat’s hiss. He picked her up.

“Aren’t you a cutie?” Adrien cooed, rubbing his cheek against hers, “Why’d you run away? Did big bad Plagg scare you? I can give you all of Plagg’s cheese - “

“EXCUSE ME?”

“And you can live with me forever and ever - “

Plagg groaned, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Adrien reluctantly pulled himself out of showering the cutie with affection, “What?”

“What you came here looking for?”

Plagg pointed towards the little box that the cat had been hiding in. Adrien adjusted the kitten so that the claws were safely pointed away from him and peered into the carton.

Little trinkets decorated the box, from blankets to little toys. Adrien reached out, grabbing his lucky charm and gently sorting through the rest.

“What a little thief,” Plagg said snootily, “You should leave it to its thieving ways.”

Adrien gasped, “How could you say that!” he cuddled the cat closer, “She just wanted a home.”

Plagg narrowed his eyes, “I hate her.”

“You’re just jealous. Isn’t Plagg a meanie?” Adrien crooned, “Yes he is, yes he is .”

Plagg glared at the cat, “I hate you.”

The cat hissed back.

---

Chat Noir dropped by the shelter, happy to let the cat scratch away violently at his indestructible suit. He was sad to see her go, but knew he couldn’t keep her.

“Does she have a name?” the girl at the counter asked.

“Uh …” Adrien thought about it, “Lucky.”

“We have at least ten cats with that name.”

Plagg snickered. Adrien sighed.

“Charm.”

The girl shrugged, clearly very over that fact that one of Paris’ heroes was here. Adrien gently handed Charm over, and got a wonderful scratch in return.

“I think she likes me,” Adrien purred.

The girl gave him a look that was eerily reminiscent of a kwami he knew.

Once they were outside, Adrien found a place to be alone to detransform. Plagg sighed dramatically, stretching.

“Glad that’s over. I’m hungry.”

“Hey, Plagg,” Adrien said contemplatively, “How did we just happen to come across that cat after so long searching?”

Plagg settled into his hair sleepily, “You forget I’m a god, kit.”

Adrien paused at the implication.

Then shrugged.

“Want to get cheesecake on the way back?”

“Bribery,” Plagg nodded in approval, “The universe doesn’t stand a chance.”

Lucky charm tucked safely into his pocket, Adrien found himself agreeing.

---

Author's Note: Decided to start with a super chill fic because I write too much angst for this boy

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I’ll Tell You My Sins (So You Can Sharpen Your Knife)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst! A lot! (ends in fluff tho), canon typical violence, briefly mentioned and very vaguely descried torture, blackmailing.

Word Count: eight fucking thousand words what the fuck

Summary: Reader hides important information about her past from both Steve and Bucky, causing serious damage to their relationships with her. When Bucky’s severely (likely fatally) hurt, the Reader tries to finally do what’s right.

Beta: @walkingaline​ and I genuinely couldn’t have done it without her. She’s the sweetest fuckin person.

A/N: I’ve dedicated my life to this for two weeks, and it’s positively the longest one-shot I’ve ever written. I’m rather proud of how it turned out, and the feelings I got to explore. Would really love to know what you think!

It’s- vines, climbing up her organs, endless, crawling, and overflowing, thorns stuck inside her skin, digging in, and the breaths come shorter, clipped, chest weighted. There’s no alleviating this pressure, this overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, chaotic, heavy and filthy, slimy and awful.

The rumble of her engine, a loud interruption to her vicious thoughts, digging their claws inside her eyes, filling them with tears. The world is blurry, but the vibration- it's a welcome distraction. Familiar and strong, her motorcycle drives her at this point, muscle memory leading to the Compound, tears flying off her face by the whipping wind.

She’s booking it. Time barely registers. It’s somewhere between lashing thoughts and trembling fingers that the off-white building rises between the trees, overwhelming and tall, glinting lights always on, no matter the time of night. Somewhere between gasping, fast breaths and stuttering heartbeats that she throws the bike to park and runs, fast passes every lock with her ID and forgoes the elevator, knowing full well that the adrenaline thrumming in her veins will carry her up the stairs faster.

Shoes as if weighed by rocks, she feels slow, stuck in mud almost, liquid cement, sinking, drowning in quicksand as she rounds the corner and- Steve’s there, arms crossed over his chest, busted bottom lip pursed with his top one, a deep sigh swelling his chest. His hair is longer than the last time she saw him, he looks battered and bruised, and she’s known him for years- she can read his face clear as day. And as situations like this always have him, she knows, in the clench of his jaw, the statue-still set of his eyebrows, in his stony posture; he’s as worried as he is determined.

The phone call had been rushed.

She shouldn’t have heard it, about to jump in her shower, had she not forgotten her towel on her bed. Naked, feet padding on her plush rug, she digs in her bedside table for her usually silent device. It’s Steve, and she hasn’t heard from him in nearly a month and a half. Instantly she knows something isn’t right.

There’s only so many seconds it takes for the words to sink in, words like “mission went wrong”, and “hurt”, and “won’t make it”, and “Bucky”. Soon she’s pulling on clothes at lightning speed like the universe depends on it, shower be damned. Keys, jacket, helmet forgone, tears stream down her face as if she’s already lost him, bike kick-started because what else is there to do but be there.

And now? She’s here. And she feels foreign and bizarre, stepping in a space that she barely belongs in anymore. It’s sorta how she imagines entering an old house that’s now inhabited by new residents feels like- it feels the same, but in the same way it feels all too different, strange and foreign; revisiting an old life that’s been made into a new one for someone else.

It really doesn’t matter though, does it? Because she’s not here for herself- not for Fury, not Steve, not for the Avengers, or the missions. She’s here- she’s here for him.

Steps even slower now, approaching the Captain himself, very much aware of her knotted shoulders, her shaking hands. It’s evident, suddenly, in his posture that he knows she’s there. His shoulders stiffen just this bit more, and with a breath with which his chin raises a notch, he turns to see her. One foot behind the other, and he moves out the way, letting her in his spot in front of the window of the room Bucky is in-

A gasp.

Time finally stops.

Unrecognizable. Buried under wounds and bruises, endless tubes- her lost boy, James, Bucky. Tears fall at a new speed, and she allows this moment of vulnerability in front of Steve, allows herself to cover her mouth, her expression crumples, her tears flow freely, and- despite being mad at her, despite having patches to mend (if they can even be mended anymore), Steve is there, solid as always, with a hand on her shoulder, urging her in his arms. Old friendships die slowly, she thinks bitterly, and sinks in the comfort, eyes unable to be torn from the sight before her.

It takes some time, a good chunk of it, to compose herself, to part from Steve’s warmth and wipe the wetness off her cheeks. She wraps her arms around her front and shakes.

“We got ambushed,” he murmurs, and the statement is heavy. There’s guilt, sorrow, she’s sure it’s not fun to recall. “My fault. Didn’t know they were that many, must’ve had false info. Barely got to get him out of there.” She shudders. The image is loud and clear in her mind; Steve limping with the leg he’s currently not leaning on, busted and bleeding, carrying an unconscious Bucky, blood dripping from his mouth. She flinches.

“Can I-“ hesitation. A deep breath, shoulders squaring, remembering she no longer asks, she states. “I want to go in.” Steve stares for a second, calculating, thinking, looks back at Bucky, limp on the bed. He nods.

“Go.”

Before she knows it, the door shuts behind her slowly, an industrial, metal click, signifying a sealed door, nearly impenetrable if it was locked. She tries to be calm, but there’s no way, no reason to look composed either, so she flings herself to Bucky’s side, fingers twitching, hands hovering over him, afraid to touch him in case he frails like a burnt paper, in case he turns to dust and disappears before her very eyes.

Tears, once again, fall freely on her cheeks, tracing paths already carved by the previous breakdown, and the prospect of never seeing his wonderful crystal eyes, blue and loving, tears her apart. Worse so, the idea that the last time she saw them, they were red, hateful, betrayed, staring at her as if she was a monster, nothing more than the true scum of the earth, and he was right, and she will likely never be able to make everything right again.

It feels like  claws are tearing at her chest like it’s low quality linen, destroying every tiny piece of her into infinitesimal other pieces and then tearing those too. There she is, now, nothing but rubble and ash, on the floor, limp and bleeding. Heart far too heavy for her chest, breaking again and again, her temples feel like they’re about to burst from the pressure.

Sitting on the chair next to his hospital bed, her fingers tremble, carefully sliding under Bucky’s still ones, holding his hand between hers gently, like a lifeline, leaning her forehead on it. She sits there, folded, crumpled, and she cries.

~

Y/n’s palms are red and kind of stingy, but she pulls her sleeves over them and keeps holding the scalding cup of coffee between her hands anyways. Eyes closed, she lets the steam warm her nose, lets the scent comfort her, and she imagines, with her headphones plugged in her ears, that she is elsewhere, in her apartment with Bucky, on the fire escape, watching the sun descend beneath the skyline of New York City. She imagines his arms around her waist, sitting between his legs with her own dangling off the metal landing and over the street. His voice, vibrating through his chest, onto her back, murmuring teasingly in her ear, nose buried in her hair and his warmth all around her. It’s peaceful, it’s soft and warm and everything she has ever wanted.

When her eyes open, she’s met with sky blue ones, not the ones she was just dreaming of, and she flinches, suddenly very happy her coffee cup has a lid over it.

Steve.

With a sigh, she takes a calming breath, and pulls her headphones out of her ears, tugged by the wire pinched between her fingers. She places them gently on the table in the cafeteria for guests and low-level agents in the compound. It’s nighttime, and the lights in the cafe make Steve’s hair look golden and glimmering.

“How’re you holding up?” She’s not sure how much he means that, and she knows he’s still very much mad at her for everything that’s happened between them. She knows, however, he’s also the one that called her to let her know about Bucky. She feels heavy.

“I can’t stop fuckin’ crying, if that’s what you’re asking,” she tells him, no care to maintain a strong persona, not in front of the person she used to consider her best friend until not so long ago. She flicks the edge of the lid of her beverage with the tip of her nail and looks up at him. Steve looks better than she does for sure. Not because he cares less, or because he’s slept at all, but because the serum gives him more stamina than her. He’s not as tired as she is, despite the hours he’s been awake for. Still, despite his enhanced powers, there’s purple bags under his eyes. “You?”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with a small shake of his head, sighing deeply. She takes that as her answer. Despite wanting to fiddle with something, a way to prevent her hands from shaking, a nervous habit, she pushes her coffee cup towards him, a peace offering, something to hopefully bring him the comfort it brings her. Steve doesn’t touch it. She fiddles with her sleeves instead.

The cafeteria, despite being open twenty-four seven, is quiet. A blanket of silence falls over them and Y/n crosses one leg under the other just to have something to do, something instead of opening her mouth and ruining the temporary civility between them. The words bubble, climb over one another like beasts, up her throat, and threaten to spill- and there’s just so much of them. So many apologies to make, so many explanations to offer, so many please let’s just go back to how we were ’s, so many this is killing me ’s, so many I can’t bear the thought of losing him without at least saying I’m sorry one last time. I don’t want that to happen with you too ’s. It’s all clogging the back of her throat like a spoonful of thick syrup that just won’t go down.

The idea that this might happen with Steve one day too overwhelms her. Two of the people she had found family in now hate her. She can’t let this happen with him, can’t lose him without telling him all of it. The realization; it’s the drop that makes the glass overflow. What if- what if tomorrow, or a month from now it’s Steve on that bed, Steve dying, what if she doesn’t get to tell him all of it? Never gets to apologize? How will she ever forgive herself for the things she didn’t say?

Her eyes well again. Her tongue feels like lead. It’s time.

“I…” She can’t bear to look at him. “Steve, I’m…” a shiver runs violently through her spine. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not Bucky, Y/n.” It’s like a kick in the stomach. She hears what he’s saying. I can’t forgive you for both of us. It almost sounds like your apology is useless.

“Well it’s not just Bucky I need to apologize to.” She looks up at him, and she wills the tears to be held at bay, matching his intensity with her gaze. She clenches her fists, fingernails digging in her skin just to distract part of her brain, to feel less numb. “Do you want to hear the truth?” Steve watches her. His irises bounce between hers, they do a once over of her stance, and she knows how small she looks in her seat, in contrast to him, who, despite his frame of mind, always makes a room smaller just by being in it.

His expression is grim, as he nods seriously. She takes a deep breath.

“This is the truth.”

~~

The older she grows, Y/n keeps thinking that she’s experienced everything there is to. But it truly feels to her like she’s never experienced this kind of cold before. And it’s not- it’s not just external temperature. It’s icicles, lodged under her skin, brutally freezing, causing her to endlessly shudder, tremble like a leaf out in the winter, causing her jaw to lock, her limbs to knot up.

She walks and walks, a woman with a purpose, head held high, as high as a prisoner can hold it and- something really isn’t right with this morning. Something isn’t right, and she can tell because this morning she- she felt something she hasn’t felt in years, something she thought she’d never again feel, a bubble of emotion she truly believed they had snuffed out in her. But it becomes an itch, an itch she can’t seem to scratch, something she can’t exactly put words to, can’t name.

The more she walks, the more the feeling of dread climbs up her throat. This she’s familiar with; fear. Cold and fear, clouding her senses, paralyzing her, as Müller’s door raises in front of her, and she struggles to remind herself to keep walking, keep breathing, one foot in front of the other, inhale, exhale, calm down. There’s no way to escape this anyways.

Director Müller was as tall as his voice was shrill and loud. His features were sharp, glass-cutting cheekbones and dimples that showed far too often. His hair was strawberry blonde and his eyes sunken, as if he was seventy years old with one foot in his grave. His skin looked taught over his bones. Always sharply dressed and always hiding about a dozen knives and pistols somewhere in his office. He liked Japanese jazz, had an affinity for yelling, and drank his whiskey straight. The only affection he’d ever had was reserved for his two small birds, Friedrich and Brigitta, whose singing he adored and who roamed in his office freely.

When he’d first kidnapped her and her older brother, Y/n sat doe eyed and watched as they beat her only sibling, her last relative left alive, to a pulp right in front of her. They didn’t know she had things to offer then. They did it for fun, a show of their capabilities, power play. They did it to break her into submission. When they found out, though, about her knowledge of science, her love for technology… That’s when her life truly ended.

She walks, now, down the freezing corridors, and knocks on Müller’s door three times. Status report straight to me every four days, he’d muttered in sharp German way back when he’d first assigned her missions, back in the beginning, and true to his word, every four days, Y/n was forced to see the skin around his bony face tighten and stretch with another chilling smile.

“Come in,” he yells, and his awful voice bounces in the empty, concrete walls of the corridor. She hears his birds. The door creaks open loudly, metal as it is, and she quickly closes it behind her so that Friedrich and Brigitta won’t escape, something she’s learned to do over the years, after one particular incident no one likes to remember, never mind speak of. He calls her last name with lewd, slimy confidence, supposedly happy to see her, his rotten dimples making an appearance. She sits on one of his chairs, upon his prompting “How’s your assignment progressing?”

“Nicely, sir. I’ve reprogrammed the Chair and fixed previous faults.”

“See, Y/n…” He sits on the plush leather chair behind his desk, hands wringing together and as he says her name, he sits up, elbows on the arm rests. His long lashes and abyssal brown eyes examine her. “I think you’re not telling me the truth.”

“Uh…” Stance maintained, but lips pursed and hands just slightly trembling, she keeps his gaze. She can’t displease him. There’s no room for her failure. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sir. There’s… surely ways to improve, b-but the chair- it works well.”

“Ah, but that is not what I hear.” Müller stands up dramatically, rounds his desk with slow steps, and Friedrich starts chirping consistently, sensing the sudden tension in the room, loud, high pitch hurting her ears. She dares not flinch. The cold returns fiercely, heart climbing up to her throat, choking her. This won’t end well. “As a matter of fact,” he leans, rests on his desk, right in front of her, loving his height difference and accentuating it by standing while she sits, a reminder to both of them that he’s superior. Y/n wants to melt into a puddle on the floor, never to be seen again. “I hear that Smith, your test subject… he has almost already recovered.”

Referring, of course, to the poor boy whom they snatched and have provided her as a sick guinea pig, a way for her to test the torture chair they have forced her to make. It’s a requirement, of course, that she tests it on him herself.

“Sir, I don’t think-“

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” In the flash of a blink, he’s pulled a knife from his belt and he’s pushing her back in her seat, by pressing his blade on her throat. “You know what HAPPENS,” a tilt of his head, “when you LIE.” Friedrich is joined by Brigitta, as well as the echo of Müller’s voice, and Y/n’s heartbeat accelerates, her breath is caught in her throat. She feels like her ears are about to burst.

“He was unconscious when-“

“What did I just say?” Lips purse, scared of making any sound that’ll piss him off further. “Seems to me like you’ve forgotten,” he murmurs, flicking his knife shut and narrowing his eyes. He takes a deep breath, straightens up and she doesn’t dare to move an inch, but it feels like her heart has plummeted to the center of the earth, and she wishes it could drag her too, as far away from this as possible. She’s well aware of what’s to come.

 A chilling half hour later she finds herself sucking up tears that’ll only make her situation worse if someone were to see them. The cold, plastic, remote controller is in her hands, and it’s heavy as it’s ever been. She deems herself desensitized of the emotional toll forcefully inflicting torture on innocent people used to take. However, nothing, nothing, could possibly prepare her for what it feels like watching two HYDRA soldiers dragging her bleeding, thrashing brother from his armpits, and forcefully shoving him into the chair Y/n’s made. Director Müller watches her press the appropriate buttons with a sickly smile on his face.

She begs. For the first time in years, she begs God, the universe, something, to save her, to make her disappear. When this doesn’t work, when pleading for somebody to take mercy goes unheard, when the remote feels like the heaviest thing she’s ever lifted, her eyes draw to Müller, who’s watching her intently, waiting for her to carry on with her new assignment.

The millimeters her thumb has to cross feel endless. The process takes eons. The button is nearly unmoving.

Y/n will never forget her brother’s screams.

~~

In the hours that follow, she’s trapped inside her chamber, a tiny room of blank four walls with a hard bed and an open toilet, looking more like a prison cell than anything, the only difference being that in the daytime she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases within the unrestricted areas.

Tears streak her cheeks for yet another night, and the despair has never felt like this before. She thought she’d escape it one day, the guilt, the weight, but it seems she’s trapped, like an ant under a boot, seconds before she bursts to pieces, with the pressure of the entire world on her chest.

The itch grows louder. It’s right there, in the bottom of her heart, something to pay attention to, in her state of absolute isolation and despair. She’s alone, has been alone for so many years, and she wonders, still, why she hasn’t killed herself yet, but the idea that if she does, they’ll probably also kill her brother comes and slaps her in the face. However, what else is there to do? How much torture can she make her brother go through because of her mistakes, how much guilt can she shoulder?

She sits on the bed, counts the bolts that are screwing the vent door on the ceiling, listens to footsteps pass by every so often, and ponders. Silent tears crawl down the curves of her face. She’s lost so much. She hasn’t spoken her native language in years, and sometimes she wonders if she’s forgotten how to.

A pair of heavy duty boots leisurely walk down the hallway, and she recognizes the voices of two guards. Conversation easily flows between them, and Y/n has no choice but to listen.

“Did you hear about the new chair the American has made?” one of them says. Her ears perk.

“The American? No, what about it?”

“They say it’s one of the most painful things they’ve ever used in HYDRA.” Y/n winces.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s what I heard. Wouldn’t wanna find out myself.” The soldiers share a chuckle. “Müller made the American do it on her brother. I hear he died about twenty minutes later.”

Y/n’s heart drops.

He- he’s- he’s dead?

“No kidding. The bastard survived six years. ‘S a wonder he’s lived this long” And as the soldiers pass by, Y/n’s left in her chamber. The silence grows deafening, but the echo of her heart splitting and falling apart, shattering on the hard concrete floor is ear-splittingly loud. All that she’s done, all the sacrifices, all the sheer, iron will she’s had to muster to maintain her sanity, all the awful things she’s done, the blood on her hands, the guilt, the pain she’s caused and- and in the end… he died by her own hand.

Chaos and confusion, an ocean of lashing thoughts violently crashing and pulling her under. It feels like the crescendo of the longest song that’s ever been written, six years of constant playing, and the orchestra’s hands are bleeding on the strings and buttons, coating everything with their own pain, worked down to the bone, and this is it- the minutes before it’s finally over. The roof is about to be blown off its hinges.

The itch is no longer underlying. It consumes her, and she knows, finally. She recognizes it. Escapism. Revenge.

~

Steve’s silent. He hasn’t looked away from her, hasn’t changed stance, still with his arms crossed over his chest and bulging underneath his dark green sweater. He’s staring at her, patiently as ever, with a set to his jaw that she knows isn’t there out of anger, but because he, too, is overwhelmed with emotion. His shoulders are no longer stiff, and he now has a cup of coffee too, finished in front of him. The bags under both their eyes are darker. 

“I didn’t get to kill Müller. But I managed to run away. Barely. I disappeared, travelled to the States. I found Fury and sold all the information I knew about HYDRA and the department I had been held in, in return for protection. Fury took me in.” It’s a lifeless shrug, weighted and tired, and it’s then that Steve glances at his feet, then back at her. “I trained, learned how to fight properly. Used my knowledge for good. Made it to the Avengers in a desperate attempt to make up for all that I had done. ‘S when I met you.”

Steve seems to remember. He recognizes himself entering the story. It’s almost like he’s reliving the time they first met, back on that Helicarrier. A good memory, all things considered.

“There’s little excuse for me lying to you. I know. But please, you have to understand. The burden of getting to know the best friend of the person you’d been forced to help torture for years… becoming close friends with you? How could I ever say anything about anything and have you actually trust me?” She shook her head.

“What do you mean…?”

“They forced me to make weapons, new torture methods, even tried to make me refine Zola’s formula. A way to get a better grip on Bucky’s mind. I didn’t know much about all of it, nor who it was for, wasn’t my field anyways, and Zola’s formula was successful as it was, there wasn’t much for me to add. They later left me to the torture part, not the brainwashing. Even if I had known, though, I wouldn’t really have had a choice in the matter. I did anything I had to do to protect the only family I had left.” He nods seriously.

“We grew closer and closer and I wanted to tell you, to share my guilt with someone finally, but… the prospect of losing you was… too much. I didn’t want to lose the person that had reminded me for the first time in decades what it was like to be cared for. You were-“  a gulp “are like a brother to me.” Steve looks down. “I couldn’t see the betrayal on your face. It- it paralyzed me.

“I didn’t think you’d ever find out, honestly, how was I supposed to know you’d find my file? But don’t think I never felt guilty. It was always there, like everything could crumble at any moment, like a cloud looming over my head, but… I guess I kind of learnt to ignore it. I had found a family, Steve. After years of pain, pain received and pain caused, after so much darkness, I had finally found people who understood what guilt felt like, what it meant to be composed on surface level. I found people that loved me for what I was then and there. The idea of losing that crushed me.

“I know I can’t take it back, but for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Steve.”  

Steve stays tight-lipped, pondering, staring at the table, then at her, then at the table again. He’s carefully controlling his expressions, clearly analyzing the information he’s been given, and she holds her breath. Whatever his reaction is, she thinks, nothing compares to the breath of fresh air she can allow herself to take, free of this awful, lengthy story. Finally, clear honesty, a sort of vulnerability with her best friend that’s different and new. True, down to its core.

It’s the sigh that does it for her. Resigned. Her eyes snap up at him. “You should’ve told me” He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking up at her, and shaking his head. “I would’ve understood. Nothing would’ve changed.” He looks right at her, very much like a discouraged parent. “What am I gonna do with you?”

And it’s- it’s the way he says it, as if everything makes sense now, shoulders dropping all the way down. The way he just- like he says you absolute moron, but in their own, loving, sibling-like way. As if  he can’t stay mad for too long. Looking at her with the tiniest sympathetic curl of his lip.

It’s relief, because it’s in that half a smile that she sees it all. She sees the forgiveness, the understanding. She sees the love. It’s as if he’s looking at her, saying family, am I right? Despite her situation, for the first time in years, so, so many years, she breathes deeply, breathes oxygen that feels nurturing to her lungs, that makes her think she’s floating, and smiles, apologetically, trying to telepathically communicate I’m sorry for being an idiot. Sorry for not trusting you. Sorry for fucking up this badly. I promise to be better.

She knows, he’ll always be there to give her another chance.

~

It’s moments, a handful of them, in which time and space seem to stop existing, to warp into something else entirely, a world that’s so confused, nobody knows how to put it back. It seems, in those moments, one forgets where they are, how they got there, their brain has not yet escaped from the liquefied dreamland it’s manifested, can’t seem to fit in the strict, square rigidness of reality.

Bucky finds himself in that place. His eyelids seem to weigh about twelve tons, barely feeling his fingertips. It takes a great deal of effort to have thoughts, to- to maintain them, and as his mind slowly starts running a little faster, he remembers faintly, cloudy memories barely registering, that the last thing he saw was three soldiers, that had sneaked up on him, he remembers the gun being aimed at him, instinctively moving and getting nailed in the stomach multiple times.

Wherever he is now, it’s quiet. He worries for a second that he’s been left for dead in the HYDRA base, worries that he’s either dying on the floor or a vague prison cell, resembling something he’s been in already, but he’s comforted by the fact that the surface he’s on seems soft, the lights behind his eyes bright. Whatever the case, he should wake up now, he might need to get up and defend himself.

And as his eyes open, heavy and tired, he meets another pair of gorgeous ones, familiar and soft, and he feels warm all over. He’s- he’s safe. He’s safe because she’s here, and he loves her, with all of his being he loves her, and she’s holding his right hand close to her chest, he feels everything, her warmth, and he knows it’ll all be okay, it’ll all fix itself. He doesn’t have to try.

There’s something lingering just beneath his skin though, a need to recoil. Like a small bucket of icy water thrown over him, because, yes, he loves her, but she betrayed him. She could be out to get him right now, could be working with HYDRA still, and he might be trapped somewhere, and his heartbeat accelerates, because he has to escape and he can’t trust her anymore- until he sees the tears. The tears streaking her cheeks, over old salty marks, and a smile, broken but whole. This isn’t the behavior of a captor, he decides, deems himself, if not safe, then entirely incapable of fighting back, should he need to anyways. Why worry now? Let his future self do the work.

His eyes move around the room, blue-ish gray walls vaguely familiar, and- there’s another figure, another pair of eyes- blue, happy. It’s Steve.

Bucky feels safe. He knows he’s alive. He knows he’s home.

~

Like any other free afternoon, Y/n finds herself on her couch, curled up as much as she can with a book in her lap. There’s a short lamp on the side table, and she leans on the armrest comfortably with her toes curled, flying through pages and pages of words. Her hair is down, she wears comfortable clothes, and has a blanket over her legs. The weather’s been getting colder lately.

A warm sound, four soft knocks on her wooden door, are enough to pull her out of her novel, enough to make her eyebrows stitch together. She’s not expecting anyone.

Her feet are bare and she’s well aware of how close her knives are to the front door, just in case she has to fling herself over and grab one. She presses her eye against the little peephole, but it’s old and foggy and the workers who had once repainted the building managed to cover part of it with small drops of paint and she hasn’t gotten around to trying cleaning it. Doorknob cold under her palm, she tilts and-

Oh.

The first thing she notices is his shirt, a maroon Henley, buried under two more layers of clothes, a brown hoodie and a darker brown leather winter jacket. The buttons on the collar of his Henley are open, giving her a cheeky peak of the skin of his chest. She loves this shirt on him. It feels like someone tugged at her heart from every direction. Longing.

The second thing she notices is that this- it’s Bucky. Bucky standing in front of her door with an expression she’s rarely, if ever, seen on his face before. Her favorite, gorgeous light blue eyes staring straight at her after briefly scanning her down, as if he, too, is making sure she’s actually there.  She is. And so is he. Here. Now. In front of her. Looking at her. Her feet are on the floor, she’s not dreaming, the world is round and Bucky is here.

Oh God. He’s really at her door.

“James…”

He seems to shiver. A shake of his head, something she recognizes as him convincing himself this is happening, then eyes meeting hers again. He shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. She holds the door less tensely.

“I think…” squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, looking at the floor. “Steve said to talk to you.” A heavy breath. Shoulders awkwardly, tensely shrugging, sorta like a kid forced to apologize by their parent. She doesn’t know how, but her head manages a nod, gulping. She pulls away from the doorframe, makes way for him to pass.

“Come in.”

 New York sounds as alive as it ever does, even at eleven at night, and Y/n wishes she was sitting, because her legs are unsteady. It makes tears well in her eyes, seeing him here again, in her kitchen, looking around absently. The world feels different, much like it did in the Compound when she’d gone to visit him, even if nothing has changed in it apart from them.

Despite the passing cars outside, and people yelling, heard through the open window, it feels quiet. As if they’re the only ones in the world, being here with him feels like a cosmic event. She remembers what it was like sitting here and being so overwhelmed by the love in her heart, remembers what it was like to be surrounded by his arms and held so impossibly close to his chest. She remembers what it was like to look in his eyes and see them so affectionately looking at her, as if she’s everything he could ever ask for, as if she’s the light in his world. The cold of the night and of the space between them feels very much like a slap in the face.

“I know you no longer work for them,” and it truly breaks her heart how part of that statement feels like he’s trying to convince himself, or as if it’s difficult for him to process. How awful, the shift between being someone’s favorite person and being someone who’s trustworthiness is little over questionable. The weight of being responsible for fucking up the most important relationships in her life suffocates her. “Steve told me.” 

There’s nothing to do but nod numbly. She looks at him, watches the warm, glimmering lights of her kitchen fall on the curves and edges of his face, admires the yellow-ish hue outlining his features, making his eyes look iridescent.

She mustn’t cry.

“He told me everything, actually.”

She must not cry.

Bucky doesn’t say a lot of words, but they’re there, at the tip of his tongue, floating in the air like dust particles. In this, there’s a lingering question, a large Why. Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you hide all this from me? Why did it have to be this way?

Y/n looks down. What to say, really?

“I just- I can’t believe-“ she jumps at his loud tone, Bucky never one to have vocal outbursts. She sees the tears in his eyes, gaze lingering away from her, towards the living room for a second before looking up at the ceiling momentarily, then straight at her. His hands are shaking, and she sees it all then. The betrayal, the hurt, despair, the- the loss. There’s no alleviating this pain that overwhelms both of them. She hates herself for this, can’t believe she caused all of it.

“I- I did what I thought would be best for us-“

“No, don’t pull that shit with me.” He glares now and points at her, and she never, ever wanted to be in the receiving end of such an intimidating look. Venom is laced in his tone, harsh and biting, and it feels like the temperature in the room dropped below zero, her spine rigid. “You did what you thought was best for you,” said as calmly as the tears that slowly leak from the corners of his eyes and over the apples of his cheeks are. “In fact, I doubt you thought at all”

That’s not true though. The amount of times she’d sit in her bed, with his arms around her while he slept, weighed down by the lies and the guilt; the guilt of all the terrible things she’d done, and the guilt of hiding them from the most important people in her life. She’d scale the pros and cons of confessing everything, for hours she’d make lists in her head, extensively long, but the cons were always destructively larger and would always win. She’d choose to stay as she was, with them oblivious and happy, until they would finally see her for what she truly was, and she’d convince herself, it would all be worth it for the time spent with them.

“I couldn’t tell you- I couldn’t face the idea of losing you I-“

“So you’d rather lie to me? You’d rather hide your past from me? I trusted you, Y/n.” He hasn’t called her by her first name in so long, and it feels like he just took one of her knives on her kitchen counter and stabbed her straight in her chest with it. “I gave you all of me, I told you every single little thing about myself, everything I hated, everything I’ve done, and I trusted you to have it and- and you couldn’t even trust me to listen to you? To- to understand you?”

She deserves this, she does, but she can’t- can’t deal with him yelling at her and, reflexively, she lashes out- “I was scared, Buck,” –and it’s a pitiful excuse, she knows, but it’s the bitter truth and the reason behind everything. “You have to understand- this isn’t some black and white situation, I thought you’d hate me for everything, I didn’t wanna lose you, or Steve!”

“Scared?” he seethes, walking towards her with angry steps, and she starts stepping back too, entering the living room. She realizes how large he looks, how his anger fills every corner of the room. “You were scared?!” She can practically taste the condescension on her tongue. “And you think I wasn’t?! You think I wasn’t paralyzed you’d run away after everything I’d done? You think I wasn’t terrified of my feelings for you and how fast they came to be?” She wishes she could answer that, but part of her is terrified to know what he used to feel for her and how much of it she actually ruined.

“But I’m a fucking adult, and I dealt with it. You… you lied about everything. Did you even give a shit about how badly you were gonna fuck me over, if I ever found out?”

“Does it look like I fucking like it? You know how sorry I am, how much I hate myself for everything I’ve done to ruin both yours and Steve’s trust in me!”

“I don’t know shit,” her legs bump on the back of her navy couch. “You hurt me- hurt us. We gave you everything, I put my heart on the line for you, and you couldn’t even have a little faith in me to believe in you, and what you truly are.”  A monster rings in Y/n’s brain. Nothing but a monster.

“Please, stop.” Submission. That’s all she has left, by now, because his words ring nothing but true. Because she can’t bear to hear everything she feels about herself being told back to her in his voice, it would literally be a nightmare come true. Everything drains in her body, and it all comes down to this. She just wants all of this to stop, the pain in both of them to stop.

“No,” he hisses, and she can’t really blame him. He’s close to her, about two feet away, and she’s trapped between him and the couch. “I’m not gonna stop just because things got uncomfortable for you, just because you had to come back because I was dying in a gurney. You barely tried to make everything right before that. Do you even care?”

“Don’t you see that I did everything because I love you?!”

Silence. Bucky nearly staggers back, as if the words that have never, before, been said came out and punched him in the face.

“Why the fuck do you think I didn’t tell you anything? Because I wanted to break your heart? No, you clueless asshole, I’m in fucking love with you!” His expression is stunned, eyes wide at her outburst, watching as she takes the steps she needs to close the gap between them. Her finger is jabbing at his chest, which is raising and falling with panted breaths. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, couldn’t take to watch your trust break, couldn’t bear the thought of you finally seeing I’m a monster!” And she breaks down, a sobbing mess now, the tears that once trailed down her face, now endless. She covers her mouth, face crumpled and red.

“I j-j-just wanted us t-to be okay, bec-cause I love you t-too much to fuck-king lose y-you”, As her eyes shut, crying relentlessly in her hand, throat feeling like it’s gonna burst, she feels so eternally cold, as if showered by a bucket of icy water. The idea that she might once again be left alone in the world while someone she loves is taken away, all because of her actions- it’s too much. It takes her back to the worst day of her life, brings back a kind of cold so furious, it knots her joints and sends shudders down her spine- her hands tremble at the thought. She can’t believe how colossally she’s managed to screw things up with him, how much he hates her and genuinely believes she did anything less than care about him. .

Like a tidal wave, the emotions overwhelm her, the self-hate like a boulder that smacked her in the face and threw her down a cliff and now everything hurts, and her stomach feels like it’s climbing up her throat. Her heart tears through her chest, painful and slow, and it’s all her fault, everything, and there’s nothing there to fix it all, to make it better- except, all of a sudden, warm, strong arms curl around her. She breaks down harder, curling in his chest because she fucking missed this, missed his affection, his protective embrace, his comforting smell.

Fists clutching his shirt, she sobs, acutely aware of her tears wetting the material of that maroon Henley she loves so much. The arms around her curl tighter, one hand dipping under her hair to hold the nape of her neck gingerly, keeping her against him, thumb rubbing gentle circles. And it’s then that she hears it, his own sniffling, his chest shaking. He’s crying too. The need to provide the comfort she seeks is overwhelming, and she lets his shirt go, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him together too. “I’m so sorry,” she cries, shoulders shaking, and Bucky shushes her, shaking his head slightly. His arms tighten briefly.

In her crying, she vaguely registers him moving them to the couch, both sitting down, and her curling up into him instinctively. For a while, until she calms down slightly, she lets herself be held and holds him back just as fiercely. It feels like she’s finally letting go, an outburst that frees her of part of the weight she’d been shouldering for years on end. It feels like release, a dam that broke and is spilling every last drop of water that’s been pushing at it for so long.

When she quiets down, when her sobs no longer hurt, no longer feel like they’ll split her ribcage to splinters, when her breathing sort of evens out, she pulls one of her hands to rest on Bucky’s chest, and pulls away to look at him. Bucky’s arms tighten to keep her close.

She’s well aware she must look like a mess, what with all the crying, but this is Bucky after all, her James, the love of her life. He’s seen her under all kinds of light now, and there’s no need to hide. Like he wants, if he is to care for her, after all this, he should care for her for all the things she is, not the things she pretends to be.

Bucky’s eyes are a little less bloodshot than hers. She cups his chin gently and watches his eyelashes flutter, his eyelids softly shut. With her thumb she gently strokes his cheek and notices the way he seems to lean into her palm, lips parting with heavy breaths. He missed her too.

He opens his eyes again to look at her and leans his forehead down to touch hers, holds her closely and brushes the tip of his nose on the bridge of hers so lightly she almost misses it. She sighs. “You have every right to be angry at me,” she whispers to him, pulling her hand back and tucking it in her chest. “I lied, and I didn’t trust you, and I acted the complete opposite way of how I should have. For all of that,” a breath sucked, almost clogged at the center of her chest, “for all of that, I’m sorry.”

Bucky, still infinitely close to her, shakes his head gently. He takes one arm from around her, and she thinks this is it; this is where he says goodbye-

But, gentle as always, he places his right hand on the side of her neck, softly nudges her head up to his and drops his lips on her own, a ghost of a kiss, short and unexpected, before he pulls back and looks at her. “I love you.” He whispers, breath hitting her lips, and her eyes well with tears once again, as she looks up at him. She never thought she’d hear those words, not after everything. Bucky kisses her single fallen tear away, noses at her temple.

“I don’t think you’re a monster, the same way you didn’t think I am one. You helped me heal, helped me learn that those things I did, they weren’t me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“B-but-“

“No, you listen to me.” He tells her, his grip around her body tightening, giving emphasis to his words. “You did what you had to do to protect your brother. What you did… The blood isn’t on your hands.” He has not let her gaze go for a second, and she’s transfixed, tears still overflowing- she wonders when she’ll finally run out of them. “I love you.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I love you more than I thought I was ever capable of. Thinking you betrayed me completely incapacitated me, but I understand you. I see you. I forgive you.”

She gasps, shudders, and in the spur of a single waking moment, lunges at him, kisses him fiercely, holds him tightly. Their lips mold together, and the last pieces of the universal puzzle of the cosmos click to place. Everything settles, mouths moving in sync, desperate, hungry, all the emotions tumbling out all at once, and it’s like the slingshot snapped, and the missile hit the target. She bites his bottom lip, and the groan he lets out comes from deep within his chest, tongues tangling together. His metal arm crushes her against him, hand buries in his hair, their noses smush together, breaths strangled, air shared, and…This- this feels like belonging. No- more like, this feels like coming home.

Inevitably, they part, trying to suck in much needed air, foreheads knocking together gently and chests heaving. It seems like they feed off each other’s personal space, like they hold each other in one piece, while also completing one another. To Y/n it feels like a breath of fresh air.

“This doesn’t mean we’re perfect yet,” Bucky utters gently, not in a menacing way, but as a soft clarification, a request even. “I- I’m gonna need some time.” She’s grateful he even chose to give her a chance at all. Y/n smiles up at him affectionately and nods.

“Of course, Buck. All the time you need.” She caresses the side of his face with gentle fingers, traces his features with a feather-light touch, then cups his jaw. “Thank you.” And it’s weighted, hangs low in the air. She looks at him intensely to make sure he knows she means it. Bucky closes his eyes and leans into her touch, then blinks them open, brilliant, sky blue irises staring right at her. “I love you so much.” He breathes out heavily.

“Say that again,” he whispers. She grins at him as if he’s all good things in the world, because he is.

“I love you, Sergeant Barnes.” A kiss pressed to his cheek. “I love you with all of my being.” A kiss gently tucked on each of his eyelids. “I love you for all that you are.” And she kisses him on his lips sweetly, and he responds like she’s made out of glass, like she’s fragile. He sighs out. They breathe close to each other for a while.

“I know you said you need some time. Do you… wanna go out with me? Coffee? At Michelle’s?” Bucky grins. Their spot. He nods.

“I’d really love that.”

It’s not much, but it’s something. An olive branch. The first step to gain his trust back. There’s nothing Y/n deems more important. With a deep  breath, she knows. She’s ready to do anything, to work her hardest to earn a place in his life, the one he’s so graciously offered her. To get to build a future with him, on steady foundation this time.

Their life begins now. Y/n can’t wait to live it. With him.

~~

A/N 2: please tell me what you thought!

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Three

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.5k → click here for the next part !

The wind beats down on the bustling market and the scarf tied to your head which masks just how messy your hair is today flies away, neither you or Sasha realise as the street is scattered with stalls which bloom like flowers peeping out of rocky cement and the babbles of the citizens of the Asmye District are all you can hear. The Sun has begun to set ever so slightly, and the night is a convincing ruse to avoid anyone from noticing who exactly you are. Nobility such as yourself venturing down here is looked down upon.

Twisting and turning through the streets you both do your best to locate a specific man, balding and in his late thirties you have some unfinished business with him.

After a solid thirty minutes your goal is met in the form of his book store. Rubbing your eyes in disbelief you and Sasha sigh with relief and clap eachother's hands in triumph.

Now to get that refund.

Researching magic is a new past time of yours and you find it to be intriguing but you've been scammed into paying for a few useless storybooks. You admit it's your fault for hurriedly purchasing "A boy and his broom" and "The tales of seven witches" without checking the contents inside but you thought you could trust the review the owner gave you. The way he smiled reminded you of Mother and that was more than enough for you to make an immediate purchase.

"Four silver coins." You try to be assertive and when that doesn't work you bite your lip, thinking deeply before alternating to your puppy dog eyes.

The merchant looks away, a faint blush is spotted, swiftly you take it as your opportunity and plead "Please. Please. Please." Looking up at him through your lashes you rub your hands together expectantly. Eventually, he yields and hands over what he owes you begrudgingly.

"Sashaaa. I got the money." You joyfully exclaim. She looks a little disappointed that you've been begging for money but she's promised to not tell the Duke about what you do down here.

You're actually gathering emergency funds if you need to run away which is why any money being wasted is a big deal to you even if it's just four coins. Sasha doesn't know of the magic or the reason why you're collecting money and you want to keep it that way.

"Mmhm Next stop is the Emerald Silk merchants I'd like to invest in some of the silk and reserve it."

Sasha gives you another weird look. You know it's because the Duke owns the Emerald merchants and you may run the risk of being recognised, it would be far easier for you to simply ask Levi for the rolls of silk but you never know if he'll revert to his past self. The last thing you want is for him to behead you as soon as he returns purely because you've leeched off of him.

"Sometimes I find it hard to believe you're Duke Ackerman's wife and do not find the urge to spend money in the way you should." Sasha confesses.

As you both walk you respond "Well, what way should I be spending money?" you inquire.

"As if you've got a never ending supply. You're a duchess." She whisper shouts at you.

Patting at your head you feel around for your scarf and realise it's been blown away by the wind.

"Ah. Your scarf oh no." Sasha frantically looks around panicked and you wonder who on Earth she had to have been serving before you for her to be so on edge by this minor occurrence. It's a scarf, nothing of much value or importance to you.

"It's alright I never liked it. I'd much rather let my hair flow free." Releasing your hair from the cramped confines of the ponytail it's in you skip ahead of her letting your hair fall naturally.

"M-My lady PLEASE. You can't walk around with your hair out like that."

"No one will know who I am so long as you don't call me Duchess." you call over your shoulder.

Little do you know a certain someone already has your scarf in their hands eyeing you from the distance.

It takes a while for you and Sasha to navigate through the crowded streets but you end up finding your way and requesting to reserve the twenty two rolls of silk.

On your way out you eye the sign and wonder why you find the name Emerald to be so endearing. You wonder if he chose the name himself, you assume he did because he had consulted you on other variations too. Pearl, Diamond, Amber, but Emerald sounds sincere and sweet.

Your attention being placed so intently on the sign leads you into the hard body of a stallion. Thankfully, the horse is docile and doesn't mind.

"Miss with the pretty hair!"

The height difference means you have to shield your eyes with the palm of your hand as you look upwards towards the mystery man. A shining face is what you are met with and a cheeky grin is plastered across it. Choppy chestnut locks frames his face, he shines brighter than anyone you've met - Apart from Levi of course. No one outshines him in your books.

Is he a noble? You look to his stallion then to his high end, sophisticated garments. He must be.

Your scarf is in between his fingers and he dangles it in front of you.

"Is this yours my lady?"

"Oh, why it is thank you." he gently places it into you hands and you take a look at Sasha. You don't really feel like being found out by a noble today. The Duke's reputation would be in tatters if others of nobility were to catch you mingling with "common folk", that term makes your face twist. You despise it.

Nonetheless, It would be miserable if they saw you arguing passionately for your rightful refund of four silver coins when you resided within the walls of the Ackerman estate, you're sure four silver coins is petty change to Levi. It would be even worse if they eyed what exactly you were refunding.

Sasha senses your nerves and chimes in just in time. "Well, we must get going good Sir. We're running late for an event until next time!"

Taking your hand she leads you towards your carriage and you wave at the young man. With the same bright smile he waves back and calls out "Until next time ladies!" he seems menacing but in the manner of a mischievous younger sibling.

Once you and Sasha have escaped and are in the enclosed space of your carriage do you ask her questions.

"That man, Who was that?" you question.

Hushed Sasha whispers "I heard he's called the crazy bee." You chuckle at that witty nickname, his honey like expressions were sweet it did add up. "There's rumours he sticks it into anyone." Oh. My Lord. Your mouth gapes open. That nickname, it makes a whole lot more sense now given this perspective.

"Viscount Kirstein, A womaniser who's recently returned from studying abroad not too long ago. Best to stay away from him."

Makes sense, you have no recollection of who he is the only conclusion you can draw is that he has to be from abroad.

Your legs kiss your chest as you sit in the carriage curled up. From that point on the rest of the trip back is quiet as Sasha has unknowingly nodded off to sleep and you want her to rest. It irks you how the other staff members push her around despite her position as Head maid. The least you can do for your friend is let her sleep.

Smiling at her you cover her with your shawl and sit down content with how you've left her. You too are about to drift off to sleep.

That is until you see the Duke outside. You didn't tell him you were going to the market and he won't stop inquiring until you or Sasha let him know what's going on.

Quickly ducking out of view it's too late and your sudden movement has woken Sasha up too. Levi's seen you through the corner of his eyes for sure. Damn him and his senses. He hates back handed tricks and if you encounter his real personality you'll be in trouble.

He just had to decide to come out on tour today of all days??

The carriage halts to a stop and Sasha exits making sure the door is closed, you hear her giving one of the Duke's knights a lukewarm excuse as to why she's out supposedly alone in a noble's carriage. Guilt fills you, she's always covering on your behalf.

"You there, stop." The Duke's icy voice enters the scene, seconds of silence pass, you're holding your breathe. It feels like the first time he came hunting for you.

Out of nowhere he flings the carriage door open.

Oh no, there's too many people outside. You can't be seen on the floor of a carriage with your hair out like this. No Duchess can be caught dead this way.

Without a seconds thought you yank him inside shielding yourself from the view of any outsiders, the door echoes closed.

There's an exchange of heavy breathing and just as you're about to look up at him with a brazen smile you realise he's drawn his sword out on you at a furious speed, it's dangerously close to the nape of your neck. His body is tensed up and so is yours. Huh. This feels...different.

"I thought I was being attacked by a mutt." he spits out, his brows are furrowed, the veins in his neck throb, stance wide, his teeth are bared. A mutt? This feels hostile, lips pressed together in a fine line your heart stops beating for a second.

"My Lord...?" you meekly call out to him.

Then out of nowhere he seemingly snaps out of it.

"I'm sorry." He releases you from the compromising position "I didn't even notice it was you my love. Are you hurt by an chance?" He's back to his usual self and is panicking checking every part of you, ensuring he hasn't left a scratch.

Hugging you warmly his embrace soothes you automatically and you feel the relief course through your system, of course he's on guard he's the Duke and he's out on tour after all.

"I'm fine." You quickly explain your reasoning for hiding and he nods "So, could you give a random excuse to the knights? I just didn't wish to lose my dignity so soon. You know the Duchess on the floor of her carriage with her hair like this." You laugh airily pointing at the birds nest on your head.

"You look beautiful either way. But I'll do as you please." And he leaves after gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Later that night you're getting ready for a good nights rest. The Duke has yet to return, he's always caught up in his duties and noble activities, You wish he'd take the time to relax. Hard work and dedication to his people is an ethic of his he'll never give up on.

He always gives you the option to excuse yourself from partaking in noble activities. The only real reason as to why you don't ever venture outside with him and are yet to make a public appearance together is fear. Fear that he'll wake up one day and throw you away.

You want to make it easy for him if he ever decides to do that. He won't have to erase your existence if you don't make yourself known.

Tossing and turning you shiver, something feels off. You've been feeling that way since he drew his sword against you earlier today. The way he looked at you, it's reminiscent of the first time you looked into those feline eyes. Once bright and full of life they had become charcoal and devoid of any distinct emotion, the duality between his two forms makes your breath falter.

Being reminded that the Levi you know and love isn't real only gets harder as time passes. It's all overthinking and being pointlessly anxious but it still gnaws at your mind at least once a day. He is all you have and he is all you will have until he too turns on you. Just like everyone else.

Suddenly, the acidity of the situation settles into every part of your being, you can't have anything can you? All the love you've ever received is short term - only available for intermittent periods of time.

You feel bitter tears pricks at the edges of your eyes. You want to control yourself, act with jurisdiction over your body, so you do. No tears are shed.

Later that night you awake. Rubbing at your eyes you stir in bed, and eventually one of your splayed arms feels Levi's solid form next to you. Half awake you shift to put an arm over his chest, drawing him in closer he squirms at your touch. That's when you feel a harsh iron grip on your wrist, it's bruising.

That alone is enough for you to become undone from your drowsy state. Opening your eyes you're met with an expansion of cold emptiness.

"Lev...? Whatever is the matter?" Innocent gaze staring at your husband you act oblivious purposefully. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you find that shocking. You're surprised that it hasn't failed yet. Hope is the only instrument fueling it.

Silence.

Levi is no longer present, in his absence you are face to face with a rock hard glare, the fire in his eyes is also felt by you. The man who almost murdered you in cold blood months prior shows no signs of changing his previous choice, this whole situation is damp. If this were a movie this would be your last scene.

His fury is wordless but it vibrates and makes its presence known. There's a vortex of resentment brewing inside of his chest.

Everything is a blur, breaking down you hear nothing from Levi. You don't feel his warm palms at your cheeks, or his thumb swiping your tears away, this isn't one of your nightmares.

He's disgusted even touching the surface of your skin, it scalds him having to touch someone as morally impure as yourself. Releasing the hold he has on your wrist he tosses your arm away forcibly.

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

[perishman]

The Prodigal Son

Hey so this is for @nastyburger and their Dannyverse AU.  Just so you know, it’s an AU that may not make sense without checking them out

Danny B. Fenton snorted, ashen grey smoke erupting from his nose as Dani landed behind him. For the first time in years, he was at Fenton Works for christmas, home of now world famous ghost hunters Maddie and Jack Fenton, as well as their elder child, Jazzy. It was once his home too. He knocked on the door. He didn’t know why, since he was expected. He supposed he just hoped it was Jazzy who opened the door. He was afraid to phase in. His parents might not buy that they “just didn’t hear him come in” when he was the most anticipated part of the holiday. 

After a few seconds of silent waiting, Dani turned to her brother, silently asking if he really wanted to go through with this. And B wasn’t entirely sure he was. But, he’d promised Jazzy he would make an effort. The Fentons were old by now; it was why the elder child had returned home. The door creaked open, violet eyes glancing out before it was thrown open to reveal Madeline Fenton, hunched over with hair more grey than red, her hands rough and boney. Danny’s smile was still half formed when she latched onto him with a hug. Maybe it was his Core that had always caused him so much trouble, but she was cold to the touch. Most humans were. Silently, Maddie waved him and Danielle in. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Danny felt the house take aim at them, reacting to their shared ecto-signature. Danny had once removed its ability to sense him and Dani, but Jack had yelled at him when he’d realized. Danny had pointed out that it could’ve been Jazzy, but the Fenton patriarch had rebuffed that by pointing out Jazzy followed instructions. 

Soon, Jack approached from the tree, a somewhat strained smile on his face as he said, “‘Ello Daneil. It’s good to see you. Same t’ ya Elle.”

Danny nodded, “Hi Ja- Dad. and uh, yeah. Glad to see you both as well. Merry christmas.”

“If yer more comfortable callin’ me Jack, call me Sparrow for all I care. Haven’t been yer father in years,” Jack said gruffly. Danny noticed it sounded more irate than sad. More bitter than apologetic. 

The halfa siblings each raised an eyebrow and held up some bags (Elle had food, B the gifts), to which a younger, less bitter voice rang out from behind, “Food on the counter, presents are hidden in the guestroom.”

Danny hugged Jazzy much tighter than his mother had done to him. He’d been meaning to call her for ages, bur grading and hunting had been eating up his time. Despite not being back here in ages, he didn’t need to ask where the guestroom was, given that there was only one option. When he got up there, he snorted. The bright blue walls still had the fades that came from his posters; it was the same desk, so on and so forth. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

“They didn’t touch it for years, ya know. They were hoping you’d,” Jazzy said with a pause, “come home.”

The redhead ran his hand through his hair and laughed horsley, “Considering how I left? Why don’t I quite believe it was a bilateral decision?”

Jazzy pursed her lips, not having a response to that. There had been a lot of yelling that night. Ancients, it had been Christmas Even then too. For the longest time, the most that Jazzy, Sam or Tucker had heard was that Danny Phantom was more and more active than had been normal. That his fire had been tinted blue. It had been a terse few weeks, and everyone was frightened out of their minds trying to figure out where Fenton was staying. When they found out Vlad had taken him and promised to hide him… It had been a difficult time. Loathe as the Phantom was to admit it, Plasmius had supported his human half in a way no one else could, and Danny was in his debt. 

Looking around the room some, Danny said, “I need to think about some stuff. You mind?”

Silently, Jazzy nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Danny looked around some more, and eventually found something he hadn’t seen in years. A picture of him with Sam and Tucker at eighteen, with the imprint of Dani in a nearly invisible red spot that almost no one else would see. If Danny had to hazard a guess, he was 19 here, and it was one of the last times he was happy at home. He sighed as he pocketed the picture and walked out. There was nothing more for him in that room, bar whatever present Jazzy had gotten him, he supposed. 

“Look who decided to join ‘is family afta all,'' snorted the old man from the living room. Danni glared at Jack, who snorted. 

Spitefully, Danny glared at his father and blew a smoke ring with his ghost sense. He knew it was childish, but Jack had been nothing but rude the entire time. To his surprise, it was his mother who glared at him with… a contempt usually reserved for Phantom... . Jack, for his part, almost seemed apologetic, before the mask was back on and he scowled. Both Jazzy and Danni rolled their eyes at their brother. 

Sensing the tension bubbling beneath the surface that threatened to lash out, Jazzy turned to Danielle, and asked, “So. Elle? What’ve you been doing lately? Last I saw on instagram you were in, Madrid, right?”

Danni nodded, “Yep. Met a cute girl or two, which was nice. But Spain isn’t for me; not a fan of their food compared to Italian. Actually I spent the last few weeks of my europe trip in Milan. But I guess I forgot to post it…” she shrugged. 

“Ooh, Milan. You have got to tell me all about it,” Jazzy said with a smile before she glanced at the falling snow. 

Danny tried to listen, really. But Danni had already told him about her time in Milan (and the girls she met there in some form.) He felt himself zoning out, before his father jostled his shoulder and led him down to the lab. Danny wasn’t sure what he expected, but the lab was still the best kept part of the house bar hi- bar the guest room. His father had to take an automatic chair to carry him down. The radioactive green of the portal still illuminated the basement, but there was now a glass container that Danny could tell was lined with ectoplasm to prevent phasing. Smart. The eldest fenton offered a beer, which the son silently turned down. But soon Jack had sat the two of them down, like when Danny was a kid. Then, Jack had called them their ‘boys talks,’ but now it was clear what this was. Two broken men, trying to fix themselves by fixing the other. 

“Now, you were always a bit oblivious on your best day. Which this most certainly isn’t. Suppose that’s my fault a bit. But, in case you hadn’t noticed. Your mother hasn’t said a word all day. Why do you think that is?”

Danny knew immediately, “Throat cancer. Jazzy told me a few weeks ago, when I was in Canada with Vlad… I tried calling, but…” 

Jack snorted, whether he believed his son or not being unclear, “Right. Ya know, when you were a tyke, I wanted you t’ meet Vladdie,” a snort, “more than anything in the world. But now? I wish I’d never met ‘im myself. Would’ve saved my family. Would’ve saved him, come to think. Regardless. I want you to tell ‘er. Before she goes. So she knows who you really are.”

The room went cold, as Danny knew exactly what Jack meant, and he tried to force the hurt down in a level tone, before asking, “You knew? For how long?”

“Knew you had powers immediately. Saw you fall through your floor, but you were too comatose from the accident to remember. Didn’t know you were Phantom for a while, but when Vlad won his first term- unanimous votes my ass- I realized somethings about him. Things were cemented when I saw you beat him into transforming back to human. If somethin like that could happen from Vlad’s accident…” he gestured to Danny.

Danny stood, eyes burning with tears and ectoplasm as he snarled, “You knew. You had to know I wasn’t some druggie. And you still let mom send me to rehab? You still wasted weeks of my life. You tore me from my friends. You still sided with Mom in almost every fight. How dare you ask for me to give her my secret now? You don’t care. You just want your guilt off your chest and think I can do that.”

“I’m the reason it was rehab and not the dissection table. Maddie was on to you, you know. By timing alone, and the devices going off. But I lied to my own wife, your mother, for months. I regret what I had to do, but not what I did. I saved my son.”

That gave Danny pause. He wanted to believe it. But years of being alienated from his family made him wary. Part of him screamed that if Jack was being honest with him, he wouldn’t have let Danny risk life and limb with minimal intervention. He wouldn't have shot at him. But the boy that wanted to be a family again ached at the possibility opening up. At being his parents’ son again. 

“Fine. I’ll do it. But after this? I don’t want to hear from you again, You’ll see me at the service, but after that, I’m gone.”

As he walked up the stairs, Jack sighed. Tears streamed down from the old man’s face. It was better Danny was angry at him, than the dying woman who’d nearly convinced him to experiment on his own son when they’d realized what happened. Jack didn’t see the incidents with Danny’s powers, it had been Maddie. And Jack had sent his son to rehab while he tried to talk his wife from the edge. He’d saved Danny, and all it cost him?

 His son. 

[vodkaxtonic]

Soft Spot •Eric Coulter x Reader•

Summary: Eric was not close with anyone and practically hated everyone, however, he never expected to have a soft spot for the Amity transfer.

Words: 2k

 “Where the hell is Y/N?” Eric growled annoyed as he looked around the meeting room, Four beside him and Max sitting in front of him. She was already 20 minutes late and it pissed Eric off, not only because he’d have to stay longer because of her but also because he’d have to postpone his hookup which he really looked forward to. Max looked more than mad that Y/N wasn’t showing up, and Four was praying that she wouldn’t get in a lot of trouble for being late. “I’m gonna go look for her.” Eric stood up, the chair making a screeching sound across the cement ground before he stomped out of the room, leaving Four and Max, who just shrugged at each other.

 Eric’s heavy footsteps echoed through the empty halls as he walked to the apartment complex of their fraction. By now everyone was either out on patrol or working out, so he knew as soon as he heard the loud music ringing through the hallways that it couldn’t be anyone else but Y/N. With a deep sigh he came to a halt in front of her door, Queen’s song “Killer Queen” blasting through the metallic door. His fist pounded heavily against the door, but there was nothing on the other side. No volume turned down, or the voice that sang along stopping. Another annoyed groan escaped his mouth before he turned the doorknob, and to his surprise the door was open.

 Eric couldn’t contain his smile as he saw the scenery in front of him. There was Y/n, dressed in nothing more than an oversized knitted brown sweater, which she probably smuggled in here since anything else than black wasn’t really allowed, a sizzling pan in her hand as she sang and danced, flipping the pancake. His eyes roamed over the apartment quickly and he realized that at heart she was still Amity. Her apartment wasn’t as metallic and bland as all the others here, it was comfortable, plants decorating shelves and the wooden table. Her bed definitely seemed a lot more comfortable than his metallic one with the thin mattress, hers was made out of wood and a big mattress placed on top of it.

 After Eric decided he had analyzed her apartment and her enough, he sighed as he entered the apartment and walked over the vinyl player, Y/N not even noticing him since she had her back turned to him. A loud shriek escaped Y/N’s mouth as the music was turned off, she turned around and dropped the pan before jumping away from the hot oil that was about to cover her bare legs. “What the hell, Eric!” She said loudly in shock as she picked up the pan, putting it on the metal counter. “That’s a nice greeting.” He smirked as he walked over to her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it?” She asked, cursing Eric in her mind since she had to clean the oil up. “We have a meeting and you’re 30 minutes late.” He stated, almost emotionless as he looked at the girl, unconsciously letting his eyes roam over the soft curve of her waist that the hoodie created. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” She asked, panic making itself present in her voice as she rushed to her closet, getting out her normal clothes. “It was spontaneous, and we sent you a message.” Eric explained as he turned around, giving her privacy while she changed, which was unusual for him. “I told you the charger of the tablet isn’t working, Eric! You said you’d take care of it!” She whined as she jumped to get the tight pants on. “Oh.” Eric said, realizing that he indeed had said he’d take care of that. “Yeah, oh!” She answered sarcastically as she jumped to put her boots on, almost falling over in the process. “I didn’t even have breakfast yet!” She pouted as she dashed past Eric, taking one of the pancakes from the previous ones she had made. “Enjoy yourself.” She sighed at Eric’s questioning look, before a smile covered his face as he took a pancake, following the panicked girl out of her apartment.

 “He’s gonna tear me apart.” Y/N muttered as she walked next to Eric, their step in sync as he looked down at her. “He won’t.” He muttered as he chewed on the last bite of his pancake. “You know how much Max hates when I’m late and since I’m a newbie he’ll shred me—“ “He won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Eric reassured her as they stopped in front of the door. Y/N took a deep breath before turning the doorknob, her heart racing as Max and Four turned to the door. “Good that you decided to join us too, Y/N.” Max said, his voice filled with annoyance and anger, making Y/N unconsciously shrink a bit to make herself smaller. She feared Max, no doubt. “I’m sorry—” “You can’t just make your own rules here, Y/N. This is not how it works.” Y/N flinched as Max’s fist collided with the table, his voice as cold as ice, sending shivers down her spine. She took a step back, unwillingly, bumping into Eric who has been observing the scenery that unfolded itself in front of him. “Since you’ve decided that the rules don’t apply to you, you won’t help Four and Eric to train the initiates, nor will you workout yourself or eat with everyone else for the next four days.” “You’re putting me on house arrest?” She gaped at Max. Was he even allowed to do that? “You can call it that, if I see you outside, I’ll make sure you’re fractionless.” “But it’s my fault that she was late.” Eric butted in, stepping in front of Y/N in a rather defensive matter. “I don’t give one fuck. My decision still stands.”

 Eric frowned as they left the meeting room, seeing Y/N walk back to down the hall without another word. “That was unnecessary of Max, she was never late once.” Four sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes following her silhouette until she disappeared. “I don’t think he likes her very much.” Eric answered before turning to Four. “Let’s go train the initiates.” He sighed as he pulled out his phone, texting his hookup that he wouldn’t make it today.

 Guilt was gnawing at Eric for the rest of the day. He shouldn’t feel guilty, but he was. He should’ve said at the beginning that it was his fault and not hers and maybe she wouldn’t have been put on house arrest. With a sigh he looked at the clock in his apartment, reading it was already 5pm and today everyone was done with training. He groaned as he stood up, there was only one way to make his guilt fade at least a bit.

 Once again, he stood in front of her door, his black backpack swung over his shoulder as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t explain what he was doing right now, why he cared so much that he’d come over with alcohol and pastry to try to cheer her up. Eric knew that she was upset. Y/N was always bubbly and fun to be around but after Max’s decision she was quiet, and he couldn’t help but notice the frown that covered her face for the rest of the meeting. With another sigh he knocked three times, nervously shifting his weight as he waited for her to open the door. His eyebrows furrowed as silence was filling the air, no steps towards the door, no music, nothing. His hand found its way to the doorknob, turning it. If she wasn’t here, she’d be in a hell lot of trouble.

 “You need to start locking your doors.” Eric said as he opened the dark apartment, seeing Y/N’s head peek out of the blanket before disappearing again. “Go away.” She muttered. Y/N had to admit, she was angry at Eric. It may seem silly, but this was the second time he said he would fix something and he once again he didn’t hold his promise. Now she was the one that was bound to her apartment for the next days. “No.” He answered, closing the door behind him as he took off his shoes before walking over to the windows, pulling the blinds open. “Eric!” She whined, hiding under her blanket once again. “Stop moping around, get out of bed.” Eric sighed as he crossed his arms, standing beside her bed and eyeing her. “No.” “Do it or I’ll make you.” Eric’s voice was stern and normally she’d listen, not only because he was scary as hell but also because they were somewhat friends and she didn’t want to upset him, but right now she was mad and she didn’t care. “No.” A loud whine escaped her mouth as Eric pulled the blanket off her and a shriek as he picked her up as if she were as light as air. With a sigh he sat her down onto the metal counters in her kitchen, making her pout and cross her arms over her chest. Only now he realized that she had changed back into her hoodie. “What’s wrong?” Eric sighed, placing his hands beside her legs as he leaned in a bit, making Y/N gulp. “I’m just annoyed about Max.” She muttered as she bit her nails, and in that moment, Eric knew exactly that Y/n was lying. “There’s more. Talk to me, Y/N.” His face softened a bit, his eyebrows raised as his eyes roamed over her face before finding their way back to hers. Y/N sighed defeated at his intense stare. He wouldn’t let it go and she knew it. “It just makes me mad that you said you’d fix something for the second time and once again didn’t do anything until it was too late.” She admitted, her voice quiet as her gaze shifted away from him to her hands. “I’m sorry.” Eric sighed, and he knew she had all reason to be mad at him. “But I’m trying to make it up!” He smiled, making Y/N look at him and furrow her eyebrows before he swung his backpack off his shoulder and onto the counter, opening it. “How…” She was baffled as he handed her her favorite wine. “I saw a bottle of it standing on your fridge, figured you might like it.” He answered before taking out the pastry, and now she was the one smiling. “So, do you forgive me?” He asked nervously as he looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “I’m still thinking about it.”

 “What?” Eric laughed, slightly tipsy as he looked at Y/N who sat beside him on the brown couch. “You have such a soft spot for me.” Y/N laughed as she took another sip of her drink. “No, I don’t!” He defended himself as he looked at Y/N. He didn’t have a soft spot for her…or maybe he did? “Yes, you do! You hate everyone and anyone and you still came through for me, at least you tried, and you came here with pastry and alcohol to try to cheer me up and apologize. So, yes you do.” She grinned cockily as she watched the blush erupt on his cheeks. “…maybe I do.” He admitted quietly before he downed his drink. “That’s okay.” Eric couldn’t help but admire her. She seemed so full of life, so happy and carefree as if the world wasn’t fucked up and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Because I have a soft spot for you too.” She admitted and before she knew what was going on, his hand found his way to her neck, pulling her in and pressing his lips onto hers, and for a moment Y/N tensed up, before melting into the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft as she deepened the kiss while she tried to put the glass onto the table and failing miserably, making Eric pull away and burst out in laughter. A smile erupted on Y/N’s face as she finally put down the glass. “Are you still mad?” He asked, his voice soft as she leaned back into his hand that was still placed in her neck. She chuckled, shaking her head. “You are forgiven.”

[poison--ivory]

Haikyuu! Virus AU (Random/Reader) Part 1

“I don’t fear the dark itself, but what may lurk within it.”

Warning: Blood, Gore, Character deaths and trauma

Part 2: link

Yamaguchi loathed the inky room of which he sat in. The only source of light that gave him some comfort was the natural light of the moon. Since the power in the city was out you could hear the wind blowing or the soft barking of dogs. He could barely make out the outline of team Nekoma’s manager, Y/n Shibayama. She was already knocked out as soon as her head hit the makeshift pillow. While he was wide awake, and sort of jealous that she could just sleep like everything was fine. He can’t stay mad at her for too long since her school lost their middle blocker, So Inuoka. Their team captain hasn’t been the same since. Not even a couple hours ago they too had lost another member of their group. 

Ennoshita screams still wrecked his mind and the smell of rotting flesh was forever inscribed in his nose. It really should have been him who went in that trench by himself. He was the one to point out the food truck and even made a small plan to gather the canned goods. Ennoshita and him had a little dispute on who would go and by the time he turned his head to give his side to Daichi, Ennoshita was already marching down the steep hill. A couple of seconds of arguing, before he heard the sharp screech, loud enough to pierce his ear drums. The next thing he knew, Suga and Yaku were rushing down the hill to try and save him. They stopped half way before running back, a herd surrounded Ennoshita in under a minute leaving little to no gaps for escape or retrieval. 

He knew deep down that it was his fault even if the others told him that there was nothing that could have been done. Yamaguchi knew that if he kept his mouth shut Ennoshita would still be alive, yelling at his second year teammates and patting us first years on the head. He tried everything to get his mind off the details, the screams and the stench. Yamaguchi’s mind even makes up certain info to scar his psyche.

Ennoshita wasn’t the only causality. At the very beginning of the outbreak, which to him felt like years, but in reality it was really a few weeks. Karasuno, Nekoma, Fukurodani, Ubugawa and Shinzen planned a last get together for the graduating third years. They all met at the training camp to play volleyball, visit Tokyo and to gain a few memories before they graduate. Really sunny that, but it wasn’t as hot, mostly a comfortable warmth that hugged his whole stature. 

When it started the Yamaguchi and some of the other first years were gallery gazing at the various window shops. Yuki Shibayama was buying a couple sticks of dango for his sister, Tsukishima made a small remark of him being a real sister boy. Haiba at the time seemed to be annoying a very displeased Teshiro. A small and weak yell was heard, however it was quickly brushed off due to the large crowd. Yamaguchi stopped at a food stall that sold fries, even though they weren’t soft as he wanted them, they still tasted pretty good. Hinata and Kageyama were arguing about something. Yachi stood in the middle to make them stop their yelling since they started to draw a small crowd. Another scream echoed this time a bit more heavier. The noise left his heart beating a bit faster; it sounded kind of. . . primal. Before he could react another yell followed by a wave of screeching rang throughout the air. The howling caused even the duo to shut up for once. 

He froze in place as a girl who looked no older than thirteen, a middle schooler was pinned down a lady. Her shrieks sent shivers down his spine, her dog bit the neck of the lady who fell off to the side trampled by oncoming people. The dog licking the girl’s cheek in a loving manner didn’t sense the sudden change in his owner. Her small frame was on him in a second tearing fur and flesh off his yelps and whine would fall on death ears. He managed to escape, but the large chunk left a noticeable hole in his side. Yamaguchi felt useless in that moment, his feet glued to the very dry cement he stood on. He turned to stare at Tsuki who was too engaged in his phone to notice what was transpiring around him. Yamaguchi's hand reached out for his friend, however in a split second Tsukishima was yanked from behind by a man, who looked extremely ill. Everything played in slow motion as the man bit Tsukishima on the neck and in complete shock elbowed the man square in the face. Clenching at the wound to dull the jarring pain.

Blood flowed down his neck and coated his white shirt, his headphones ripped off his ears hitting the pavement with a harsh smack. Yamaguchi remembered running to aid his best friend, dropping the fries in the process, his mind running faster than his legs and before he could even inch forward the same man and a woman gripped Tsukishima and tore his skin from his flesh. His gut wrenching screams through terror into his heart. Witnessing his childhood friend being eaten alive was a pill he tried swallowing, but soon regurgitated it back up. Throw up ran down his chin as Kageyama shoved him forward making him trip on ground beneath him. Yamaguchi noticed Hinata yelling at a very dumbfound Yachi, she stood there frozen, shaking and stunned by the madness happening around her. Everyone knew she was a very anxious and scared teenage girl, even suppressing a scream when she met the captain from Ubugawa again. 

Hinata’s pleading fell on deaf ears as Yachi stared off into the chaos, her mouth slightly shifting like she was mumbling under her breath. He shouted at her as well, but Kageyama pulled him again, cutting him off half way. Yachi was lifted from her stupor the moment someone else bumped into her. She ran off so fast in the crowd shrieking before even Hinata couldn’t grab her and before he could run off to catch up with her Kageyama snatched him up from the back of his shirt. They sprinted through the thick crowd and with luck on their side made it back to the camp and collapsed on the grass from exhaustion. He took notice of the other first years slowly arriving, a dazed Inuoka clutched at his side. Haiba guided him down to the ground and ran inside. Tears fell on the back of his hands and they streamed down his face like a water spout. He lost two of his friends in less than thirty minutes that day and it wrecked him.

It sounds so much like the beginning of a movie more than anything. Even the part of when we thought everything was okay Inuoka transformed into one of those sick creatures. He tore out the throat of Nekoma’s team coach. Coach Ukai with the help of Daichi and Kuroo shoved the reanimated Inuoka out. No one talked as we listened to the moans and screeches constantly banging at the locked doors. 

Yamaguchi snapped himself out of his depressing thoughts as a soft rustle startled him from the dark corner of the room. 

“Go to sleep. I can feel your depressing aura from here.” Konoha grumbled.

“S-sorry.” His face grew warm from embarrassment.

Konoha groaned as he sat gazing over at one of his teammates. Washio was still sound asleep as Konoha shifted out of his own makeshift bed. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah, my mind’s running faster than a rabbit right now.” Konoha nodded strutting across the room to my futon, sitting down on his rump and leaning on his head on his knee. “Sorry, that I woke you up.”

“Ya know it’s nearly morning, so don’t worry about it.” Yamaguchi just nodded. “Let’s just keep it down. I really don’t wanna hear Washio complain about us keeping him up.”

“Y-you don’t have to stay up with me. You don’t know when you can sleep peacefully again, ya know.”

“Nah, it’s fine already awake now and I don’t think I can force myself too either.” He gingerly smiled back at his senior. The two young men stayed up for the rest of the night mostly talking about anything that would keep their minds off their dead friends. They yammered on about family members and past friends that still lingered from childhood. Konoha mentioned his older brother and younger sister, but soon switched the topic. Yamaguchi talked about his mother, father and his grandmother who makes his fries extra floppy for him. The memories of sitting in his living room under the kotatsu with Tsuki. The air surrounding them would usually be scented with whatever his grandmother was cooking at the time. It really made him think about some of the embarrassing situations he was in with some family members. Now he kind of wants to wake up to that familiar smell of home cooked meals and laughter.

The conversations waived from school life, hobbies to old crushes. Yamaguchi had opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, he knew it was only a crush. But, knowing that the girl he liked was presumably dead made him suffer a wave of guilt. Konoha on the other hand was shyly gazing behind himself. 

“You know, I kind of have or may have developed a small crush on their manager. During my first year, we met Nekoma for the first time. Her cheeks were so plump that they bounce when you pinch them.” His facial expression stayed the same, however his cheeks were heavily flushed. “She probably doesn’t like me in that way, and that’s fine. I just don’t want it to be weird.”

“I heard that confessing can make you feel better. Maybe, I don’t really have that much experience in this or any experience for the matter.” Yamaguchi shrugged.

Konoha tore his gaze from the small frame hidden under the thin covers. “Maybe, but when shit settles down I’ll do it. Right now, seems like a very bad time.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the better option.”

Konoha glanced around the room, seeing that the room was being illuminated by the morning sun. “Guess we’ve been talking for a while now.” Stretching, the sound of joints cracking invaded their ears, “So, wanna come with me on morning prep?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

 So, the day starts over. The endless cycle that now fills Yamaguchi’s life starts anew.