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jonsa101 · 3 years ago

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Episode 3x14: A Reflection of How Max Stepped Into Love After A Season of Suffering

Gif credit @supagirl

Hey guys! I can’t believe the season finale has come and gone! I think my mind is just taking time to comprehend everything that has happened! Sharpwin is officially canon! As I’m typing this out, it feels strange writing a meta on the other side of things. Since season one, I’ve been writing metas about how these two belong together and making predictions about the trajectory of their relationship. Now, to be on the other side of things where I know longer have to do that because these two are finally together is kinda crazy. I feel so elated!

Now y’all, I’m not going to lie to you, I had a totally different meta planned out and that meta is still in my drafts. I will probably release it because it was a general review of the episode but I thought it was more important that I put this meta out first. When I was watching the finale live, I didn’t love it. I just didn’t. I loved that Max and Helen finally got together at the end of the episode but I had a major issue with how it unfolded. The issue my friends was this scene right here:

Baby!!! When I tell you this scene TRIGGERED me, it did! Now mind you, I wasn’t upset with Max’s storyline of searching and struggling to take off his wedding ring. It is human nature for Max to still have an emotional attachment to his ring. He’s not still grieving but essentially that ring is the only thing he has left of Georgia and represents a life he once had. Him taking it off was always going to be a monumental moment for Sharpwin and for himself. The issue that I had was Max casually telling Helen that he freaked out about losing his ring!!! To me, after the voicemail he left her, after Helen flew standby and was in a six hour flight to see him, it was an incredibly CALLOUS thing for Max to say. I know Max wasn’t thinking in this moment. I know his intentions were clearly not to hurt her but words matter and him being careless with his was a complete disregard of Helen’s feelings. She was deeply hurt and upset when he said this and rightfully so! I mean just look at her expression here:

Helen’s entire being read like

“I can’t believe you”

And girl same, because neither could I!! He knew he fucked up and he obviously made up for it in the end but y’all when I was watching it live, everything that came after that elevator scene was was tainted for me. I had a hard time believing that Helen would let what he said slide so easily and in the moment, I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them finally coming together! 😩 In my personal opinion, there were so many other ways that scene could have played out without Max having to literally tell Helen to her face that he was worried about his wedding ring! I know they were trying to build up to the “big moment” where he finally takes his ring off and runs back to Helen’s apartment but man, that moment did not sit right with me in my spirit! It still doesn’t and I don’t think my opinion will ever change on this.

With that said, I’ve now done several rewatches of the finale where I specifically watched the scenes after that awful moment by the elevator. As I’ve had time to reflect, my perspective has changed. I no longer view the moments after the elevator scene as tainted but as something deeply profound and beautiful. Hell, even as I reflect on that scene by the elevator, I still don’t like it, but in a way I understand it in how it relates to Max’s overall journey when it comes to Helen. To me, Max Goodwin is a man who fell deeply in love with Helen in the midst of the most complex situations and a season of him suffering. It’s been deep rooted, complicated and messy from the start and over the past three years we’ve seen Max navigate through the complexities of his feelings for Helen and the circumstances he’s found himself in on our screens. I think when you look at season three finale and specifically the journey of Max finally making a choice to be with Helen, you have to put into context Max’s history and how it influenced what that looked like. So y’all that is exactly what I want to do in this meta so let’s dive in.

One thing I think we need to acknowledge is that, even though as an audience we have loved seeing Max and Helen’s journey unfold, the road has been so TOUGH for them. As Helen said in 3x13, it’s been a fight! Especially for Max. The suffering he has endured over the past three years has been unfathomable and much of his relationship with Helen and his feelings for her have been developed under these traumatic and tragic circumstances.

At the very beginning of the series, when Max and Helen first meet they clash but it doesn’t last for long. It’s his first day at New Amsterdam and as the new Medical Director, he wants her to stay at the hospital and treat patients instead of doing press tours. Helen on the other hand wants to continue doing press and for the most part ignores his demands for her to return to the hospital. When she finally does return, she does so because she learns that Max has cancer. This bonds them at the onset as Helen is the only person in his life that knows about his diagnosis. As an audience, when we first see them interact, we instantly saw the sparks fly between them. Their chemistry and natural witty banter made us immediately take a look at their relationship and what potential they could have in the future. Though we were shocked by his cancer diagnosis, I think the fun and lightheartedness of Sharpwin’s first interactions really masked how traumatic this must have been for Max. On the first day of his dream job, that he sacrificed his marriage for, he learns that he has cancer while having a baby on the way. Those are the awful circumstances that first bring Max and Helen together.

As Helen becomes Max’s doctor and he swears her to secrecy about his diagnosis, their friendship and bond grows deeper. His passion and drive to help his patients, reignites Sharpe’s love for medicine again and inspires her to put her patients first. They become vulnerable with each other more than anyone else in their lives. He confides in her about his broken marriage and she tells him that she wants a baby. When he almost dies, she becomes his deputy medical director so that he can focus on his care. All of these moments are significant to them because somewhere along the way they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t plan for it and it’s something neither of them are consciously aware of but unknowingly, they both start to fill a place in each other’s lives that was clearly more than a doctor and patient relationship or a friendship. This “place” wasn’t called out until episode 1x16 were the clairvoyant called out their feelings for each other. When episode 1x17 comes around, after a night of revelations and a scramble to get the power back on in the hospital, Helen decides to step back as his doctor. If she wasn’t aware of her feelings before, in this moment, she’s fully aware of them now. This is an effort to safeguard her heart and set boundaries because the lines of who they are to each other were already so blurred. When she “triages” their relationship Max’s reacts badly and honestly they’re both devastated and are on the verge of tears:

As viewers, we loved this moment but when you peel back the layers of what’s actually going on in this scene, it’s gut-wrenching. The subtext is so clear here yet their situation is so complex and layered. We know for a fact that Max wasn’t trying to lose her in ANY CAPACITY. We also know that in the way he TRULY wanted her he couldn’t have her and Helen knew that too. Not when he was married, had a baby on the way, and fighting cancer at the same time. Y’all that’s hard and profoundly painful when you think about it and it makes this scene all the more tragic.

When Helen steps back as his doctor, at first Max seems to be handling it well but as his cancer starts to get worse, he completely breaks. Like I said earlier, over the course of his cancer treatment, Helen filled a place in Max’s life that was so much more than just his doctor or his friend. So when he’s dying and no longer has the person he feels deeply for play an active role in his treatment, he lashes out. He’s dealing with a range of emotions he can’t handle or properly process. Things only get worse from there and at the end of season one Georgia and Luna’s life are on the line and Bloom and Helen scramble to save them. When it seems like everyone was able to come out of that traumatic event unscathed, they get into a devastating ambulance crash that changes everything.

Season 2 brings another level of pain and suffering for Max when he loses his wife after the crash and is thrust into single fatherhood. Not only is he grieving but he’s also dealing with guilt of falling in love with Helen while he was married. The complexities of his feelings is something he struggles with throughout this season and it affects his relationship with Helen. At some points he pushes her away and at others he desperately needs her. Once again, Helen and Max’s relationship is caught up in the most complex of circumstances that is riddled with agony and trauma.

By time we head into season 3, Max doesn’t even have time to breathe or think about his relationship with Helen because they’re both thrust to the frontlines of the pandemic.

I bring all of this up again to emphasize that there has never been a time where Max and Helen’s relationship hasn’t been wrapped up in trauma or some sort of suffering. It has always been one thing or another with them. It’s been A LOT and Max has tried to navigate being in love with Helen through his suffering and under these crazy ass circumstances. So after rewatching the finale, the questions that run through my mind are:

How do you step into love when all you��ve known for the past three years has been suffering?

How do you love openly and freely when for so long you’ve emotionally suppressed your feelings for someone because it was “wrong?”

How do you let go, heal, and move on with your life?

To me, answering these questions is what the season finale for Max was all about. When you’ve suffered so much and endured so much it’s not easy to step into a new chapter in your life that’s hopeful and filled with love and possibilities. For Max, I don’t think in his wildest dreams that he ever imagined that he and Helen would be in a place where they could actually be together. Considering everything they’ve gone through, quite frankly it’s a fucking miracle! So when he actually makes it to the other side and not only SURVIVES but has a chance for happiness, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. Pursuing/having feelings for Helen from a place that isn’t wrapped up in trauma and tragedy, where there are seemingly no obstacles in his way, is totally and completely new territory for Max. I think he’s clueless in how to do that in the right way and as he navigates through that, naturally there are hiccups.

That’s evident with what he said by the elevator and also in this moment here:

Max doesn’t have a clue but he wants to make sure that he doesn’t fuck it up because he DESPERATELY wants this! I also think there’s something to be said about how we as human beings can self-sabotage ourselves when we finally have an opportunity to get what we want. Fear, guilt, worthiness usually comes into play with that and I think for Max there was definitely a fear with moving on with his life, guilt of surviving it all and having a chance to be with the woman he’s loved for so long, and a question of if he’s worthy of actually having happiness.

Their walk in my mind perfectly embodies him self sabotaging while also trying to navigate his feelings of desperately wanting to be with her. At the beginning of their walk, you see that at one point he clearly wants to hold Helen’s hand but he doesn’t (I would use a gif here y’all but I literally only have room for 10 😩). I’m focusing my attention on Max here because essentially this whole moment between them is a part of Max’s “mini story” in the episode. The ball has always been in his court and truly what we are witnessing is his journey to step into love because Helen is ready and has been waiting on him.

The most compelling moment in their walk scene for me was this one:

I find it strange for Max to walk so far ahead when he was the one who asked her if he could walk with her. My first thought while watching it live was “what is he doing” and I think Helen’s expression reads the same way. After analyzing this for a bit, I genuinely think that’s the point of this scene. Like I said earlier, Max doesn’t know what he’s doing. To be with Helen like this is, where its romantic, peaceful and drama free is probably blowing his mind and he doesn't know how to navigate this. He doesn’t know how to receive this second chance at happiness.

The internal war of Max stepping into love or allowing fear, guilt, and unworthiness to hold him back becomes all the more evident when they get to Helen’s door:

He knows he wants to come in. Helen know he wants to come in too. This man literally says goodnight twice and when Helen responds with “you said that,” it perfects this scene. She wants him to come in as well but she’s not going to ask him to. In this moment, she sees his internal struggle and she knows that he has to make the choice himself on whether or not he wants to move on with his life with her.

When he walks away, for a moment that was Max choosing to hold onto the pain and trauma of his past. That was him choosing to hold onto the guilt that was keeping him from healing and moving on. With the suffering he’s been through, it makes sense. In many ways he’s been conditioned to fight, to suffer and to endure. It’s what he’s used to. But praise the lord, he thinks of the moments he just shared with Helen.

The joy he has with just being in her presence.

The opportunity he has to freely be with her and have a life with her after loving her for so long.

He is not condemned to a life of suffering. It was only for a season. He’s in love with Helen and wants to be with her. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity at a second chance of love and happiness slip away from him. So guys, he slips off that ring, runs back to Helen’s apartment and makes a choice to step into love. Step into this new, uncharted, chapter of his life with Helen Sharpe.

Anyway guys! I hope y’all enjoyed this! I might be releasing one more meta but we will see how it goes.

As always feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr and on Twitter @oyindaodewale. Love you guys!

#new amsterdam #Sharpwin #Max Goodwin #Helen Sharpe #Max x Helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

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ladykatakuri · 3 years ago

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Escape from Senses

A Star Wars The Bad Batch One Shot for our dear Sargeant Hunter

Pairing: Hunter x F Reader

Word Count: 2017

Warnings: None it is a fluffy story for the man who needs a break sometimes.

Song Lyric based: John Denver - Annies Song ( a.k.a You fill up my senses )

Summary: “Listen, I told you I am not interested. Just let it go ok?” You sigh as you turn around to walk away and get some space between you and the obviously drunk clone. When he makes a grab for your arm, you stumble and bump into a man that stands out from the entire crowd.

Hunter never really liked to go to an establishment with many people around, especially not when there is alcohol in play. With his heightened senses, it meant that he would pretty much hear, feel, see and smell all, and with many people around that are drunk, let's just say that it made for a sensory overload most times. The sounds of people singing and talking and arguing over nothing and everything, the smell of stale alcohol and other scents fuming from the bodies around or the food that was left behind on and under tables, the people bumping into him, women touching him ( especially his hair ) it was all just too much. Now, just back from a mission, 79`s was not the place he longed for, but it was what his brothers needed the most. So, as a good brother and leader, he went to the bar with them to have some time off until the next mission.

He was not prepared for that night and all the nights after that.

You were invited by a friend to come and stay at 79`s for a couple of hours before her shift ended and the two of you could go for a nice night of holo, snacks and girltalk. With the craziness that has been going around lately, with the war effort and all, the two of you desperately needed some time together to just have a real girls night and so here you were, in a bar loaded with men in all stages of being drunk and women in pretty much the same situation. Most of the visitors were clones, soldiers of the republic who would be sent out into the frontlines and who would be most likely not to return again. It was only normal for them to party as if their lives depended on it and they surely did enjoy everything the night brought them.

From some of the men you met there and who befriended you, you understood that the veterans always called the new guys shineys. Their armor was still all clean and new and they would not be as battle hardened yet as the older generation of warriors. To you and most women in the bar it meant they would be the men that came on to you the hardest, more confident of their seductive skills. It also meant to you that when there were many of them around, you and your friend would be busy saying no most of the night. Despite the help from Rex, who noticed one particular shiney not giving up on having you as a companion for the night. you still were being bothered by the man after Rex had left with his brothers.

“Come on sweetheart. You know it would be a great night with me! I`ll love that sweet, soft body of yours all night long.” His drawling voice, almost singing the sentences, carries through to your friend currently pouring drinks behind the bar. She chuckles as she looks at you rolling your eyes at her.

“Listen, I told you I am not interested. Just let it go ok?” You sigh as you turn around to walk away and get some space between you and the obviously drunk clone. When he makes a grab for your arm, you stumble and bump into a man that stands out from the entire crowd.

You fill up my senses like a night in a forest,

Like the mountains in springtime,

Like a walk in the rain, like a storm in the desert,

“Sorry! I… I didn't mean to bump into you.” You look up and smile at the man currently gazing down at you. His deep brown hair held back by a red bandana falls on his shoulders, his brown eyes squinting and his hand on your arm holding you in place.

“No problem.” He smiles at you as he steadies you on your feet. “It happens.” When he looks around, you notice his stiff movement, almost as if he tries to seem casual while at the ready to run out of the place.

“Well, I`m still sorry. Hope I didn't hurt you.” With a wink to the man you are about to walk away when a hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you back.

“Come on sweetheart! Let's go to my place.” With a slur, the shiney from before takes hold of your shoulder and tries to pull you out of 79s with him, not noticing the soldier who curiously gazes at you and the shiney who does not seem to stand a chance at all.

You shrug his hand off of your shoulder and turn to face the young drunk. “I said no, can`t take a hint?” You smile at the long haired man once more and walk past him. “Some people should not drink and flirt at the same time,” you mutter.

When the shiney reaches out for you once more, the other puts a hand on his shoulder and pinches it. “Not a smart idea. Best leave the lady alone, she said no.” His friendly smile does not distract you from the warning in his eyes. Your knight in black and grey civilian clothes has come to the rescue. With a relieved smile you see the shiney shrug his hand off and move to the Twi`lek standing nearby. “Hello there gorgeous!”

“It seems your warning has helped. Thank you.” You touch his arm as you turn to thank him.

“A pleasure.” He already moves to go back into the crowd in the bar when you stop him.

“How can I repay your kindness? A drink? It's on me.” You motion to the bar where your friend is laughing and keeping an eye on you. When she gives you the thumbs up, you roll your eyes and grin. After her shift you will have to tell her all about what happened and how you did not try to pick up the man now looking at you.

“No need, just figured you could use a hand.” This time his smile does reach his eyes, though you also notice he still does not seem to feel right. He rubs his temple with his hand as he looks around, searching for something or someone.

“Are you ok? I mean, you seem to not feel so good?” You wonder if he had too much to drink or if he just does not like the bar as much as the other guests do. Sure, he is a clone and you are pretty sure he is one of the men that was different from all the others, as Rex had explained it to you when the topic of Clone Force 99 came up, but he seems to feel very much out of his comfort zone right now. Judging from his looks, he must be the sergeant and if your memory was correct it meant he had heightened senses. “ He must feel terrible with all these sounds and smells and all those people bumping into him! “

Like a sleepy blue ocean.

You fill up my senses, come fill me again.

The friendly smile combined with your apparent concern for his well being has him amazed and struggling for words for a moment. “Thank you, I will be fine once I can leave from here again.” He grins as he looks at you. The grin widens as he hears you chuckle and sigh right after that.

You put your hand on his arm and gently tug at it. “Don`t get the wrong idea, but please, come with me.” Guiding him through the bar, you carefully navigate the two of you through the crowd. From somewhere not too far from the two of you, you hear a gruff voice call for the man you are trying to help.

“Sarge! Nice going!” You notice a man waving a prosthetic arm at him and giving a thumb up with his other hand. Laughing, you wave at the man. “ He is lucky I am only trying to help him out a bit!” With a wink you turn around, a grinning man patiently waiting for you to take him to wherever you were planning on taking him.

It took a short ride in an air taxi to get to where you were going. During the ride there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, just looking around at the nighttime business all around. To Hunter's surprise it was not another bar or building, it was a park, still open to visitors, but none to be seen in the area. The two of you walk in through the entrance when you suddenly stop and sit down on a bench, tapping the space beside you. “Please, take a seat.”

Hunter sits down and takes a deep breath. The air is fresh, the sky is clear and the only sounds are of some of the native ducks and other avians. For the first time since he and his brothers came back from their last mission, he finally relaxes. “This is beautiful.” He looks up at the sky as he mutters the words.

“I figured you could use some space and time away from the hustle and bustle from the bar. Jesse and Rex told me about you and your brothers. This place is the last place you can actually take some time to calm down and just enjoy the view.”

Hunter closes his eyes and for a moment he just listens. The ducks and birds all singing their own specific songs in their own specific voices, the distant sounds of traffic, not loud enough to be completely recognisable and your soft breathing next to him. Then another sense takes over. The smell of grass and foliage, the fresh air that can only be found when surrounded by more nature than humans and something soft and fresh, mixed with a touch of sweetness and sharpness from alcohol. It takes him a minute to figure out the last smell is actually you. Your own scent mixed with that of 79s. It is mesmerizing and intoxicating and it is rapidly becoming his favorite scent. He has seen you around many times, might have even had some small talk with you, he could not recall to be honest, but already you have stolen a special place in his heart by simply being the attentive and sweet you. Thinking about his heightened senses and recognising his need for calmth.

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you,

Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms.

Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you

Come let me love you, come love me again.

Your soft sigh takes him out of his head and back to the moment. He opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. “Just what you needed?” Another sweet smile from you has him smiling back and nodding.

“It is perfect and just what the doctor ordered.” Without even realizing it, he slides closer to you on the bench until his leg gently presses against yours. “You have no idea how much I actually needed this and how happy you made me by taking me here.”

The two of you take a moment to just stare each other in the eyes. Slowly you lean your forehead against his and you feel him softly press his forehead against yours. Closing your eyes, you both know that right there and right then, you do not need an actual kiss, no lips crashing on each other and no passionate embraces. This is more than a kiss, it is a promise for the future. All the two of you need right now is this moment together where he carefully leans back while softly putting an arm around you. Your head resting on his shoulder as you both gaze at the stars and are lost in this silent moment together.

Let me give my life to you,

Come let me love you, come love me again.

So here you go, a little one shot about Hunter. I hope you liked it and any kind of comment or tips/idea`s are always welcome <3

@loth-wolffe@nahoney22@moonstrider9904@hellothere-generalangsty@kin-rokku@reluctant-mandalore@cyroku@zinzinina@catbustours@uponrightful

#Hunter x F Reader #Hunter The Bad Batch #TBB #Hunter TBB One Shot #Song Lyric Joh Denver #Escape from Senses

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listless-brainrot · 3 years ago

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Hi! I know you love Haru and I'd love to hear your thoughts on what his personality is like? Not his bending or his ships, but just what kind of person he is. He was super undeveloped in ATLA and I'd love to understand him better and write about him!

hey, i'm glad you asked!! super flattering to have you come to me in regards to this question, and i've analyzed this guy to hell and back over the course of nearly a year now, so i'd be more than happy to give you my characterization of him

granted, it's pretty lengthy, and is heavily based on canon, hence why a lot of it ties to his bending, but i'll try my best to make it so that it's more about haru as a person, rather than his service to the plot

also makes me super happy to hear that people do want to understand and write about him!! that really does mean the world to me particularly, so thank you <3

with all of this in mind, here's a collection of my (pretty lengthy, sorry about that) thoughts:

haru being super undeveloped is actually one of the reasons why i find him so compelling- there’s so much you can do with a character of his caliber because there’s not much canon/supplementary material that can discredit your characterizations. canon, however, does actually supply a characterization of him that i’ve managed to compile and accrue over the course of finding nearly every single little detail i can find pertaining to him. this includes his canon episodes in both book 1 and 3, the videogame he appears in (which is straight up called avatar: the last airbender), and even the silly shorts.

(mild disclaimer, i know full well that the latter two i mentioned are considered non canon, but i like incorporating little bits and pieces of what they have to offer, as i don’t really have any other options. also, the videogames are the only supplementary material where he’s treated as a part of the gaang, so it’s the most personality you’ll ever get.)

i’ll start with main characteristics i try to keep in mind when writing him, and then talk about smaller, more innocuous details that i just find particularly fitting for him.

haru is:

emotionally driven. a lot of his decisions are more driven by emotion, rather than logic. this ties in with his impulsivity and morality. he’s aggravated by his position in the village as the only earthbender left, and this culminates into him still bending discreetly despite the inherent risk. he does this not only for himself, but to preserve the (possibly only) emotional connection he has to his arrested father. this is a similarity he shares with katara, who’s emotionally tied to her mother due to losing her, and haru is the one to understand what that loss really means in this interaction: “this necklace is all i have left of her.” “it’s not enough, is it?” by saying this instead of an apology or some other response, he shows that the feeling of loss she’s experiencing is mutually understood in a way that goes beyond just sympathy. there is nothing that will replace who you’ve lost other than the person themselves, and he understand that more than anyone. it’s also implied that haru doesn’t know if his father is still alive, as no one knows where the prisoners go, but it’s clear that he still holds a sort of hope that he’s somewhere out there, and that keeps him going. it just takes a little bit of outside influence for him to fully believe in that, as well as being reunited with his father again. in general, he’s also pretty receptive of other’s emotions, and is quick to come to their aid.

impulsive. not just impulsive, either- he’s got anger and resentment lying beneath his quiet composure. it’s not as bad as characters such as zuko’s, but it’s still worth mentioning. i’ll mention the impulse part first, though- generally speaking, haru reacts faster than he thinks. upon being spotted practicing his bending by katara, he runs away without pausing to consider the harmful repercussions of being found out (nor followed home). he not only runs away from danger as a first instinct, he also runs towards it in some cases, ironically enough- he’s the first one to notice and immediately run towards the mines once he hears/sees the explosion and suspects that someone’s in trouble. he does this without any prompting by katara, even if the act of actually saving the old man needed some egging on from her in order for him to accomplish. his impulsivity comes to a head in the form of his most dangerous act- him attacking the warden. i’ve already elaborated on that specific interaction here, though i will once again emphasize that haru had absolutely no plans past attacking the warden based on his body language, further fueling the idea that this was just a split second decision, one made on nothing but complete and utter impulse. to bring the anger aspect into this, he’s also unable to hold his tongue and insults the fire nation soldiers and even his town once the former leaves, and his instincts swing wildly between running and fighting on a dime with little in-between.

adaptable. instead of completely shutting down in the face of such a negative situation (and over the course of five years, no less), he brings it upon himself to practice bending, accept his role as man of the house and work in both the shop and on the farm, and other responsibilities that go unmentioned, especially when taking into account that his father is apparently the leader of his village. this is where you could start paralleling him well to sokka, which i have done before, but i will make this more haru-oriented. there is definitely a lot more to be inferred with this particular aspect of him, but i will say that it takes someone of strong will to adapt to the situations presented in his episode, and learning to live with the grim reality of fire nation occupation. to run down what we see again- soldiers freely patrolling the villages, soldiers overtaxing the villagers, soldiers entering wherever they wish unannounced, soldiers stealing away people in the night without much resistance, soldiers forcing villagers to work in the coal mines to gather the coal needed for their ships, and soldiers forcing captured earthbenders to build fire nation ships. this is all off of the top of my head, so i could be missing a lot, but again, seeing haru still be as morally oriented and determined as he is after all of this, it’s pretty impressive and telling of his adaptive capabilities. to take this one step further, he’s also extremely adaptable when it comes to working with others, as in the games he fills his role as a necessary component of the gaang without conflicting sokka or other preexisting roles, and in book 3, he finds his place amongst teo and the duke, taking the most initiative amongst the three.

lonely. a snippet from his personality bio on avatarspirit.net calls him “lonely and brave”, and i think that’s especially fitting for his character. he only had his mom for five whole years after every other earthbender was taken away, and this is without mentioning the ostracization he faced simply being one, given how the fire nation constantly demoralizes his country’s benders and likens them to savages. the village he lives in also appears to be full of old folks, so it’s not very likely that he had friends his age that were even in town, especially if we consider the circumstances of following book 2 episodes with the earth army recruiters. (it’s also unlikely that his friends are alive if they did join the army- take a gander at this line from zuko alone: Gow: Just thought someone ought to tell you, your son's battalion got captured. You boys hear what the Fire Nation did with their last group of Earth Kingdom prisoners? Soldier: Dressed them up in Fire Nation uniforms and put them on the frontline unarmed, way I heard it. Then they just watched.) furthermore, it’s not likely that haru could’ve left his little village prior to its occupation- the games imply he’d been to omashu previously, but the circumstances of the war make this unlikely, unless he was super young. given his not always pleasant attitude and sullen expression we sometimes see him with, it’s not hard to imagine that the effects of him being so alone without the connections he needs has affected him deeply.

some other things:

-he’s horrible at lying (”they’re crazy! i mean, just look at how they’re dressed” is that really the best excuse you could’ve come up with??). -he doesn’t like keeping his hands/arms still (arms are usually crossed, sometimes gestures as he talks, hands usually balled as if expecting a fight). -he’s pretty outwardly expressive (for someone who’s supposed to be hiding most of the time, he tends to wear his emotions/intentions on his sleeve). -he can’t bite his tongue (especially when it comes to something that goes against his personal beliefs). -he doesn’t know how to react to touch (katara hugging him takes him by surprise both times, and he doesn’t reciprocate often, if anything he reacts stiffly) -he’s particular about his appearance (notably in the games, he makes negative comments about people touching his hair, and there’s also. sokka’s comments in book 3. sigh.) -he’s considered dangerous/sensitive by others (note sokka’s comments in book 1, and katara’s comments in the school time shipping short) -he lives a busy personal life (works both in the family shop and on the family farm, and has probably had to work in the coal mines at some point, though this is speculative) -he’s not above poking/having fun (in the games, he’s not above making fun of sokka and his comments about benders, and jumps at the opportunity to ride the omashu mail chutes) -he’s family oriented (count how many times he talks about his parents, it is many times i assure you, it’s important to note that he’s one of the few atla characters to actually have both parents as well as a decent relationship with them) -he has a tendency to idealize. he talks about his father fighting against the fire nation even when horribly outnumbered. it wouldn’t be surprising if he idealized the ideal of rebellion (which would later bite him given that:) -he’s a part of the first successful earth kingdom rebellion. this is mentioned on the wiki, and is unfortunately not shown in the show. it should’ve been, though. -he’s dramatic. he has an entire cliff he brings katara up to just to be dramatic and spill his sad backstory. he needs to be encouraged to save the old man, but he does it in the most dramatic way possible- he really didn’t have to stop the entire avalanche AND push it back into the mines. drama king. -he is very lucky. this can apply to anyone who encounters the gaang, but honestly, given his personality and a few things i’ve mentioned above, it’s a miracle that he’d survived as long as he did without detection nor suspicion. -he’s creative. (this one is much more speculative, but he does create huge statues of katara and ty lee pretty quickly, maybe he’s done similar things before)

to summarize: he’s a lonely impulsive idealist who isn’t afraid to throw hands if necessary and is also very attached to his dad <3 his connection to his dad makes up at least 75% of his personality

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slexieswift · 5 years ago

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the past 4 months of my life have been the most crazy.

i’m an emergency room nurse!!

i finished nursing school this past summer and seemed to get a job right in time. being in this field during this time is extremely difficult. the hospitals are dealing with increased patient traffic while also trying to cope with the multiple changes being made in the politics of the profession. i don’t regret what i do for a second. it’s honestly so rewarding working in somewhere as crazy as the emergency room. especially now. i hope this whole thing slows down soon and everything can go back to each of our own versions of normal. and everyone who’s sick with this virus can soon return home and recover. until then, i promise me and my colleagues will work each and every day to do our best. sometimes it’s scary to work during all of this craziness but i am extremely greatful i’m even able to!!! i hope everyone’s coping as best as they can. and thanks to @taylorswift as always for her undying support and motivation for frontline responders and workers everywhere. i’ll always be here to give it right back.

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trolloled · 2 years ago

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ah lads not again (but in the main campaign and therefore with more room)

those demons won’t kill themselves and they won’t stop breaking into the clinic until we do them in

Linnae has turned in his robe and wizard hat for the bloodline of a sorcerer. He can’t cast as wide a variety of magic, but the Bloodline of Destiny (no, really) runs through him, giving him immense power.

Priori was really hard to decide on a class for. I settled on inquisitor because they are really intimidating and secretive with their work. You may wonder why she has no charisma. It’s because I had to cut somewhere and it wasn’t going to be constitution (I wince seeing it at 10).

She is also a half elf to reflect just how Different she is from others while not being unpleasantly so

Look how intimidating she is, lucky 13 at level 3

Katrin changes places with Linnae for “most unfitting stat array” award, where in this timeline she’s actually somewhat wise. Wisdom you should never, ever drop below 10 in pathfinder and I wasn’t about to give her more than 11 intelligence based on the current thread, so let’s just call it ‘street smarts’ that she has.

Anyway at least Knife Master is the most fitting rogue archetype for her outside of Burglar, which isn’t in the game (and isn’t good anyway).

I changed cipher to a cleric because I am bad at building druids and I also needed a cleric really badly. Everything else is the same, except now they’re wicked crazy strong and built to use glaives to stick people from behind the other frontliners.

Also they have the plant domain to maintain the fungal theme! see! I can stick to themes! They venerate the fickle god/goddess of nature Gozreh.

Xrumon and Amprus’s builds are already good so I didn’t mess with them at all.

#ooc as lard

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tbartss · 3 years ago

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Well since you asked so nicely, here is everything I wrote so far :’))

There was one memory Lance kept going back to whenever the world around him seemed too real. It was a long time ago, but he remembered it like it was yesterday.

He was back in Cuba, sitting on his surfboard on the mellow waves, his knees on either side as he stared up at the stars. He was 10 years old, and had yet to hear about the phenomenal school that was the Galaxy Garrison that would spark the beginning of his destiny. Now he was just a simple, normal citizen of Cuba, riding the dancing water and tracing the lights in the sky with his Tìo.

His tio, for all his remarkable self, was a strange man, and Lance had always thought so. It wasn’t in the way he spoke or gestures or walked or anything like that. It was in the things he said, sometimes, to seemingly just Lance.

Once he had thrown Lance one look and said, “I have only one debt, and that is to the stars.” What he had been doing to make him say that was the part he didn’t remember, but it wasn’t the important part.

His tio was his mother’s brother, but even she couldn’t make sense to what he was saying. When he had asked Raquel if she had heard him say anything like that, she’d shaken her head and looked at him as if he was crazy.

“You probably just dreamt it.” She’d said, but Lance was sure it hadn’t been his imagination.

“No way! My dreams are nothing like that.”

“You can’t control your dreams, tonto. Besides, Tio hardly ever speaks, and for him to say something like that is just downright loco.”

But Lance wasn’t convinced. He hadn’t really noticed until then that Rachel was right about one things though. His tio hardly ever spoke, but Lance had just chalked that up to adulthood. He had thought that the more you grew up, the less you needed to say. But now that he thought about it, his mother didn’t seem to hold back on any words whatsoever. Not to mention the very expressive way she spoke with her hands, that Lance had inherited. It was hardly believable that they were related.

“The stars are calling you again, eh?” He said now, staring at Lance, who was in turn staring at the stars. It was one of his favourite pass times, and his tio was one of his favourite people to do it with.

He wanted to ask what he meant, but he knew it was no use. Ever since Raquel had come with that comment, he’d begun to see that his tio was a man of few words. Lance had never heard him repeat himself and he knew it was futile to ask him of it now.

He’d said to Lance once, when he’d held a gun for the first time, that a man should think like he only has one bullet left in his holster. “One target. One shot. Once you pull the trigger there is no going back.” He was starting to think he wasn’t only applying that to his shooting.

So, Lance shrugged as an answer to his question. When his tio got like this, usually late into the night, Lance didn’t know what to say to him, most of the time. It was like he expected something from Lance, but Lance had no idea what, much less how to give it to him.

Nevertheless his tio nodded sagely, like Lance’s shrug told him everything he couldn’t say with words. His feet were wading the water under them calmly, causing small ripples that rocked Lance a little, like a soothing lullaby. He asked, “Leandro, how do they make you feel?”

Lance tore his eyes from the constellation his mother had named Orion, tilting his head. “Huh?” But it was useless, he knew, because his tio, instead of repeating himself, turned back to the night sky.

His eyes turned soft, and he breathed deep as if he could smell the galaxy from here if only he breathed deep enough.

Lance, feeling again like his tio was expecting something he didn’t know how to give, poked the water a couple of times. Once there, once here. And before he knew it, he was tracing his finger in the same shape as the constellation. The water rippled until his fingers stilled, and Lance saw that the Orion he had drawn was mirrored in the water.

How did the stars make him feel? How would he know? He was ten.

“What am I supposed to feel?” He asked instead, as he started tracing Andromeda in the water. When the image got too blurry he paused his finger to let the water still before he continued.

“You’ll know when you know, Lancito.” His voice was a soft timber in the quiet of the night, and Lance thought about how his tio was probably the closest he came to a father.

He listened to him breathe for a while, feeling a weird sensation in the crest of his chest, tucked somewhere deep inside that he didn’t know how to name. And lance, when he had added the last star to Andromeda, said, “Tio?”

He hummed in answer, not taking his eyes off of the stars.

“How did you know you wanted to work at the range?”

His tio looked at him in question. Just like how he was a man of few words, he also never said anything unnecessary.

Lance swallowed and looked away, suddenly feeling the need to fiddle with his fingers. “It’s just that at school, they asked us what we wanted to be in the future and I have no idea. Raquel knows she wants to be a teacher, and Marco has that internship and Veronica has been at that flying school a million years. But I have no idea what I want to be. What I want to do.” He looked up at his tio desperately, but he was only looking back as if he was deep in thought. “The only thing I’m sorta good at is shooting and fútbol. Do you think I should work with you, at the range?”

His tio seemed suspended in time, his body so still he caused no ripples in the sea below them. The wind carried his hair; it was dark brown, like Lance’s mother’s, like his father’s. Like his own.

And then slowly, his tio shook his head. The wind carried his voice like it would the single petal of a dandelion. He said, “Your place is not here, mijo. I think you know, deep inside you, where you belong.”

And then he said, “There is a part of you that is still sleeping. Once you wake it, that’s when you’ll know.”

He really hated his mysticism sometimes. He wished he could be a little clearer in what he meant, but then he thought about how he would feel if someone wished he could just understand things in a normal way. Lance had noticed he needed the extra step to understand certain things, elaborations if you will, but he didn’t think that’s the part his tio was talking about.

No, when Lance finally understood what his tio had meant, he’d stood on the frontlines of an intergalactic war.

***

When Lance had first laid eyes on the castle he’d thought, now that’s a house. He envisioned himself laid back with his hands resting behind his head, being fed grapes by the very attractive subjects that served him as he kicked back and relaxed like a king. He thought that the castle was his dream in reality, laid out bare for his very own eyes to see.

The other’s hadn’t been as impressed. More likely, they had been scared shitless. When he looked at Keith he saw only stone cold exterior. He bet himself that Keith was thinking the exact same thing he was. Too bad this was Lance’s dream, and he was going to seize it for himself.

The Blue Lion ship had really helped with his confidence. With that machinery, a weapon answering only to his command, he was basically unstoppable. He had the world at his feet, the stars in his hair. No one, not even Keith, could take that from him.

Shiro had taken charge, but he was okay with that. He knew what he was doing, and honestly, what is a dream without some comrades to die for, right? He had his best friend, his midget of a communications officer, and his rival in the same boat. There was no adventure, if he had no one to share it with.

The others looked around while Lance tinkered with the central controls in the room they were in. He pushed a few buttons and then laid his hand on the handprint, almost missing the hissing machinery that resulted from his improvising.

And boy, did he want to share his dreams.

When he had first laid eyes on Allura, a falling princess, landing in his arms, he’d thought, now that’s a woman. He envisioned them both sitting together, laughing together, standing at the alter as his family cheered him on, and Lance was wearing the biggest smile in the universe, really, NASA could capture it with their satellite. He thought that Allura was his dream come true, a fair maiden falling into his arms.

She was like a memory pulled from his mind.

A strong one, and quite hurtful.

“Ow, ow, ow! Careful, my skin is very delicate!”

The princess did not let up her hold on his ear, and he tried not to hear the snigger he knew was coming from Pidge.

***

“This castle must be ancient.” The hallways were so empty and wide his voice was carried across the distance. He whistled to test out the acoustics. He heard his own tune for another ten seconds before it disappeared further down the hall.

“100.000 years to be exact!” Coran said cheerily behind him. His voice carried far, too.

The first tour around the castle wasn’t very impressive. All of the doors were closed and it looked like no one had walked down these halls forever — which he supposed no one had, now that he thought about it. The control panels and light bulbs beside and above every door, respectively, were covered in dust.

With Allura walking down the hall in front of them though, the light turned on, running like veins horizontically along the wall until the hallway disappeared beyond the eye could see. These hallways were massive. Lance thought it’d be quite lonely for only two people.

“Amazing,” Pidge gushed, staring unblinkingly at the lights that turned on. Allura looked over her shoulder to smile kindly at him.

Hunk squinted at the lights, too, and poked them with his pointer finger. “How exactly does that work? I don’t see any electricity outlets.”

Coran laughed loudly, the sound of his merry filling the entire hallway. Lance thought it sounded a bit like his tio. “Oh, the simple human and their wonders,” he said. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “The castle’s power source, my young earthling, is connected to Allura’s energy. She is the only one who can control this ship and everything in it with her alchemy.”

“Alchemy?” Pidge piped up, sidling alongside Coran. “As in equivalent exchange?”

“Wait, wait, wait. How were we then able to get in with the Lion ship?” Hunk asked, touching the light along the walls.

Honestly, Lance was getting bored with their conversation. Blah, blah, something about Altean magic, and ancient knowledge, whatever. What Lance wanted to know was what was behind all of these doors. There were so many, Lance doubted each of them housed an Altean court person back in the day.

He walked to the nearest door and squinted at the control panel beside it. The inscription was in Altean, which he obviously couldn’t read, but there was also a very big red button. He wondered if…

The doors whooshed open the second he pressed the button on the panel. Inside was what Lance would assume was the Altean equivalent of a broom closet. It was bigger than his house. Like massive. How many bathrooms was the toilet paper in this closet supposed to cover?

He turned around to keep walking, when he stopped in his tracks. Everyone was staring at him.

At the sound of the doors opening, Coran had stopped talking immediately about something or other, Lance wasn’t really paying attention. Allura was also looking at him and the door, seeming in shock.

Lance raised his arms and took two steps away from the door. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything.”

No one said a word, for a while. Shiro was looking between Coran and Allura, probably to try and figure out what they were thinking, or if this had been inappropriate somehow. Keith looked about ready to downright murder Lance.

After some time of staring very intensely at Lance, Coran hummed and stroked his moustache. “The controls must be rustier than I thought. It has been 10.000 years…” he muttered, more to himself than anyone. He must have decided it wasn’t worth mulling over, his wrist flicking like he was swatting the topic away. “Anyway,” he continued walking, “so the crystals in this castle…”

And that was that. Allura and Coran kept walking, and Shiro, sensing there were no consequences happening, started to walk, too, prompting everyone else to follow his lead.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, and made sure to close the door before he followed with them.

“Stop touching stuff, you’re going to get us in trouble,” Keith hissed beside him. He must have slowed his pace to Lance’s. Just to tell him off? Tch, Lance didn’t think so.

“Relax, Mullet,” he answered and pocketed his hands in his jeans. “These people aren’t going to harm us. I mean, look at how gorgeous— I mean forgiving the princess was.”

“We’re in the middle of space with flying cat ships that are controlled by the very people that could incinerate us in a matter of seconds, or did you forget?” He added, “And it’s not a mullet!”

Lance shrugged. “Ay, stop being so paranoid. If you tighten up any more you’ll probably die a non-heroic death by boredom.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“And that will be your downfall. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What? That doesn’t even make any sense!”

***

*lance and hunk sneaking out of the garrison to go clubbing. Lance stops and stares at the stars. Maybe something happened earlier with Keith.*

“You okay, man?”

“Huh? Yea, was just thinking of something my uncle said once.”

“About space? Whatd he say?”

“I don’t even know, man, he didn’t make a lot of sense. It doesn’t matter, let’s go meet some girls WOO!!”

***

“How do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what? I’m just pressing buttons.”

“Yeah, that open doors that aren’t supposed to open.”

“Maybe the castle just likes me the best.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Enough talk. Let’s swim, mullet! I’ll race ya!”

***

The thing about the Galra is that they are both persistent and resourceful, and when you mix those two things together, they become near unstoppable. It was probably why their reign had lasted for as long as it did.

#my writing #voltron #lance

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

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Madara and Obito... In SPACE

So the preface to this mess: I don’t know jackshit about Star Wars, so a lot of this went through friends who do know Star Wars (the primary of which does not have a tumblr).

(I have watched Episodes 7&8, and Rogue One. Of the first six movies, I remember watching maybe an hour total. I have not seen more than snatches of Clone Wars. Beyond that, nothing but fic.)

Anyway! Let’s go:

As y’all probably know by now, my favorite form of crossover is what I call “intrusive,” so... I'm enjoying the mental concept of "dump Madara on Coruscant and watch him go." (Prequels, probably.)

Does Madara know what's going on? No. Can he understand a word that's being said? No! Is he going to fight the first person to aim a weapon at him, and every person after that? Yes.

Is Madara fighting fit?

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnno, not really, he’s old as balls. This is "I was on cave life support but I'm getting back up to kick ass out of pure spite" Madara.

[Image description: A screenshot of a panel of the Naruto Manga. Uchiha Madara is old and visibly ‘decrepit,’ with spiky white hair and an amorphous black robe. He is sitting on a pale throne, and there is a scythe visible to the side. He has a speech bubble saying “I am... a ghost of the Uchiha.” End Description]

Two wrinkly old guys, staring each other down: There ain't enough room in this universe for the two of us. [Palpatine and Madara start fighting to the death]

Congrats, Palpatine! Your ass is getting kicked by a geriatric malcontent who doesn't speak any language you've ever heard or feel like literally anything in the Force. You may have Sith lightning, but do you have decades of frontline experiences and over half a century of cave-dwelling bitterness?

Both of them, simultaneously, in completely different languages: Get off my lawn, whipper-snapper.

Palpatine: Behold my mastery of the Dark Side, Foolish old man! Palpatine: [shoots lightning] Madara: Oh hey, you're like the seventeenth most dangerous person who can shoot lightning I've fought. Telekinesis? Fought that. Combat precognition? Fought that, have that, and let me tell you hwat, it doesn't help if you're opponent is just that much faster than you.

Now, I’ll take a step back and acknowledge that several people advised me that Palpatine would stand a chance against Madara, likely even win, if Madara just got hacked off of his life support and is down to one eye.

But. I want a shitpost, and also to clown on Palpatine, so Madara wins easily.

Madara also deserves to be clowned on, but the entire situation is clowning on him because he’s not in his cave anymore, and he really wants to go back to his Gedou Mazou statue.

Maybe Madara and Palpatine go Old Man Fight and then Obito just pulls a Ninja Move and kills Palpatine that way. Madara was ranting and Obito just. Ninjas behind Palpatine and slits his throat like “okay, you’re obviously evil so like... bye.”

(I just love causing "Wait what" reactions in characters that are used to having total control. Like. Have you read "Unexpected Guests"? The Bleach fic? Everything that happens in Hueco Mundo and after. That energy. I want that energy.)

Madara waves his scythe around like a cane. Obito just trails after like “Gramps, no” because it’s still pre-Sanbi, so he’s Mostly Innocent (you know, on the scale of how fucked up Obito is as a person), and just wants Madara to like. Stop.

Palpatine dies but nobody's sure what to charge Madara with since he did kind of expose a Sith? And Palpatine attacked first for [handwave] reasons?

Jedi: Well sir, in lieu of charging you with assassination of the emperor, we have decided to ask you politely to return to the elderly person's retirement home from whence you came. Please leave immediately. You are frightening the senate. Madara: [incomprehensible raving] Jedi: Yes yes, very interesting. Jedi, whispering: Does anyone know his caretaker???

Obito looks increasingly put-upon as events progress. You need Obito there to... well, not translate. Nobody can translate. But to at least poke Madara into being Slightly Less Homicidal.

Anakin seems sad about his friend dying and being evil so Obito challenges him to a spar. Madara and Obito get pulled into the Jedi Temple to help train Padawans? My first thought was "they wouldn't trust someone so obviously Weird, Crazy, and Incomprehensible around the younglings" and my second thought was "well they let Yoda do it and he's all those things so I mean? YEAH."

What if they put Madara in the bacta tank and he just freshened up like a daisy because of hand-wave Hashirama cell reasons (Blame Sir Tiddyface).

From “Decrepit and Reliant on Cave Tube Life Support” to “Will Call Down Meteors With Ease”

How many eyes does he have? Whatever’s funniest. Let’s say one Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan and one Rinnegan, for maximum chaos.

Would "half my body is missing" Obito freak out if Bacta regrew his eye? Can bacta regrow something like that? When characters lose limbs they usually just get cybernetic replacements, but the person I spoke with said that apparently they saw somewhere that that kind of thing can grow back it just takes a really long time.

I want to imagine bacta would help Obito with the Zetsu integration.

Anyway! Yes. Have Madara help train people despite being... Madara about it. You know... kind of a dick.

(I’d put example gifs but I don’t feel up to it. Y’all know what Madara’s “weakness disgusts me” ass is like.)

Obito had to get his "these fools could never make me sweat" sass from somewhere, after all.

Do you think Obito could fight the baby Jedi that are around his age while recovering? I have no idea what their skill level is at fourteen, but I want to imagine Obito sparring the Padawans.

Obito + Zetsu + Bacta = he still needs physical therapy but he can spar again!

Madara is delighted to have a baby ninja to bully. He's too old to not bully baby ninjas, and Obito is the only baby ninja. TBH Madara just makes Obito his assistant teacher.

Obito: What are we even doing here and how do we get home? Madara: I'm still working on that. Obito: But I want to go home and see Rin and Kakashi! Madara, who was like two days away from triggering the Sanbi plan: I'm working on it.

Something sticking in my mind rn is Ahsoka&Obito, since Obito is still Baby.

I think Obito would be excited to have someone his age that thought he was Cool and Talented for being able to do Chakra Things instead of writing him off as "the dead-last." Like, Rin is friends with him, but she doesn't look up to him as someone more/differently talented. He'd be excited to get to be "The Mysterious Cool Big Bro" for once.

I feel I also just like the idea of Anakin not knowing what to do with someone Several Years Younger that is also. Ninja Skill.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

Madara is a grouchy old man even AFTER he gets effectively de-aged via bacta dunk, for the record. He's back in his prime and the Jedi have no idea how. They're all concerned about tiddyface*. (When are people not concerned about Sir Tiddyface, really.) The mokuton is a problem.

*Sir Tiddyface is that random Hashirama face that Madara had growing out of his pecs for like... convoluted bullshit reasons.

(Madara doesn't have mokuton, but he has enough Hashirama cells that it interacted very, VERY weirdly with the bacta.)

Obito spends the intervening weeks trying to learn the local language. He's very eager. Not particularly fast. Still doing it though!

I want Obito juggling kunai as physical therapy while he's waiting for Mads to get out of the bacta tank and just gains himself the adoration of a gaggle of small baby Jedi children.

Madara comes out of the bacta tank looking like he did in his prime (which I mentioned earlier but whatever), and it absolutely incites a yelling match of an argument that draws way too much attention.

Someone tries to teach Obito how to access the Force, just to see what happens. He almost turns into a statue because the philosophy behind Force meditation is only a few steps away from Sage Mode Meditation.

Anyway, Madara smacks him with a stick like Fukasaku to make sure Obito doesn't turn into stone.

Madara grumps about the lack of paper and brushes and ink. Bitches about it until someone hits up an antique store or something to get them for him. The day before he and Obito are dispatched on a mission with someone, probably Anakin for plot reasons, Madara very publicly seals things into a scroll and then tells them that no, they can't learn it, because the Force isn't chakra so fuuinjutsu won't work for them, so There.

Obito practices some Teen Rebellion (tm) and like, tries to teach the Padawan friends he's made how to do Chakra Things... but he's so bad at explaining things that nobody can get it to work even if it were possible.

In Obito's defense, language barriers. Not in Obito's defense, he's just really bad at words sometimes.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Prequels #Naruto #Uchiha Madara #Uchiha Obito #crossovers #Phoenix Posts #body horror mention

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katsrnerstories · 4 years ago

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BillDip SlowBurn FanFic Chap. 1

Bill had destroyed Dipper's mind.

It has been a few years since weirdmageddon. Since Dipper and Mabel defeated demons from hellish planes of existence and saved the world and their friends from soul and mind crushing madness.

Dippers a freshman in college now. It was a moment that he had wished for for years. Highschool had been…

Well it wasn't the worst it could have been. Dipper hit a major glow up around the beginning of junior year (with Mabel's help of course) and life was a little easier. He was asked out on dates, went to a few parties here and there that people dragged him to, had some typical highschool fun in the city...

Until around that same time he started getting replies from colleges his senior year, he started to see Bill again. Every once in a while his mind would wander back to that summer, but it was always the good things or nightmares of the horrors they saw.

It started with just a little glimpse here and there. An eye in the back corner of his periphery, some yellow glimpse in a dark room.

A ghostly hand on his shoulder.

But these things were nothing to the first time Dipper realized something was wrong.

Dipper saw Bill in his dreams. And those dreams were beyond nightmares.

He had had nightmares before. Nightmares of weirdmageddon were common for both dipper and Mabel. But these… these were real; as much as a dream could be.

Because of Gravity Falls, Dipper really wasn't afraid of a lot of things that would have scared him. The unknown was comforting to him. Maybe because it wasn't too unknown to him and Mabel.

But bill. During those nightmares, brought everything he feared to the frontlines.

It had been a while since Mabel and him shared a room, so Mabel really didn't know about the fear Dipper experienced those nights.

She was more focused on getting to LA.

She wants to be a criminal psychoanalyst. To look at the minds of people and figure how they tick. Criminals especially.

Dipper could swear that Bill had done something to her to make her go down such a dark career path, but he couldn't say anything; he neither had a psychology degree nor was untouched by Bill himself.

Who really knows, it could have been anything else that happened to her in those hellish four years of highschool.

She had moved away quickly after highschool ended to learn in LA. Of course they facetime and text all the time, but the separation was still felt by both of them.

Everyone missed her presence. Her positivity, her unique personality.

That had transformed into something much darker come junior and senior year. She found out after a few failed boyfriends that she was not only Asexual, but that guys and even girls, can’t seem to give that part of a relationship up. Some even found it offensive that she felt that way.

Dipper went back to oregon. Of course he was in the city, but on weekends he would visit the Mystery Shack and Gravity Falls.

Soos was happy to give him one of the rooms in the basement. Sometimes even Grunkle Stan or Grunkle Ford would visit.

They decided shortly after Dipper and Mabel left that they would travel. Of course Ford's labs still sit under the mystery shack, but when Mabel and Dipper visited Soos the summer of their junior year Ford gave them full control of the labs (as long as Dipper kept everyone safe. Which he did too much annoyance of Mabel)

Soos and his wife at that time had just had a little baby boy, and now have a comfortable four kids, two boys and two girls (three of them were triplets) and run the shack not to much better than Stan did, with the same soul in the campy attractions and overpriced merchandise.

Wendy is in her senior year at a community college in Oregon city, right around the same place Dipper decided to go to school. They hang out pretty regularly, just around weekly.

Robby left gravity falls as soon as he got his GED. Went for New York, looking for a punk career. He sends Wendy emails every once in a while about his music and where he's at.

Shockingly, Pacifica stayed in Oregon, going to the same college Dipper goes to. They see each other, and after leaving her family, she found a lot out about herself and became a much better person.

She found she loved a good smoke and art. Apparently, something she hid from the world was that she loved art. She was probably one of the best artists Dipper had seen. After she left the hell hole of her family, she became really chill. Calm. even nice.

Her and Dipper have coffee pretty much every day. She was one of the only people who also knew what he had gone through.

And she was the only person who noticed as Dipper got worse and worse for wear.

Bill had been particularly evil the past few weeks, taking much more joy in Dippers struggle. Long ago Dipper had just sort of given up on screaming for Bill to stop. But he always refused to make a deal with him to stop the fear. Not again.

“Another nightmare again?” Pacifica asks, as Dipper requests 5 shots of caffeine in his already bitter caffeinated black coffee.

“Yeah. it's getting harder and harder to say no every night. And honestly the empty dorm isn't helping.”

“Why don't you just move in with me? I've got an extra room that's got your name written on the door if you want it.”

Dipper almost accepted, but decided against it. It was kind of weird, no matter how good of friends they were, to live with the ex that made you realized you were gay.

It wasn't her fault, it was just…

He liked a different kind of ass, as Mabel had said when he came out.

No, the daily overpriced coffee meetup was enough.

“Have you talked about it to Ford? Hes got to know something about it if he went through the same thing?”

“I don't want to bother them with it. They thought they got rid of Bill that summer, we all did. Bills my problem now.”

Pacifica gives him a knowing look. She knew that he was breaking, but couldn't figure out how to help him.

“Hows journalism?” Pacifica takes her coffee as she changes the subject.

“As boring as it ever is. Graphic design?”

“As confusing as ever.” Dipper takes a big sip from his steaming coffee. It's a briskly cold morning, enough he brought out his knit set Mabel had made for him on their 18th birthday. He had no shame in wearing it, and it in fact felt comforting today, to know that she was still with him in heart at least.

She never grew out of her sweater thing. She still makes sweaters, using it to get her to the next rent payment sometimes. Everyone can count on a big box with sweaters from her every Christmas here in Oregon.

With their coffees in hand, Dipper and Mabel head off to campus. And once they made it there they said their goodbyes with a hug and went their separate ways to start the day.

Dipper wanders into the lecture hall for his advanced maths class. People filter in as he types away on his computer.

The students around him wanted to be scientists, economists, etc. everyone found it weird that a creative writing major was not only taking advanced maths, this early in the morning, but was killing it. His grades spoke for themselves.

The class starts and Dipper still types away on his computer. He had been bored the night before as he was staving off sleeping and had read a chapter ahead in their textbook. He taught himself the three hour lesson that day in an hour.

It was no doubt that Dipper took after his great uncle Stanford. Grunkle Ford told him at one point that Dipper reminded him of a young Dr. Fiddleford. Dipper didn't really like being compared to the scientist that started a whole cult under Gravity Falls before going batshit crazy himself for a very long time.

He only hoped that he wouldn't end up like him. He didn't want to be some crazy man who roams the town.

Dipper had a story that he needed to finish for his next class. He had started to wear away the stories of Gravity Falls with his creative writing classes that he now had to actually think about what story to write. Mabel helped him out with the premise of the story last night. So he spent that class writing a simple flash fiction of one roaming the backrooms. (an urban legend Mabel had read about in an article somewhere.)

He found comfort in knowing that one thing did not exist to him. That one thing did not sit in the pits of Gravity Falls waiting for Dipper or one of them to unearth it.

The story reminded Dipper of falling through the endless pit just outside the Mystery Shack. A hole where they reminisced on days of the summer as they spent the day, or who knows how long, falling. they were all lucky that it was not, truly, endless.

And quickly the story was finished and the class closed early.

Dipper went for an early lunch. He scrolls through his phone, seeing Mabels three new instagram posts and all the other people she introduced him to.

After Mabel found out Dipper was gay, she went on a mission to hook him up with some LA guy. Oregons not terrible with their acceptance, but it's not something to be very open about. Plus Dipper wasn't the kind to walk pride without someone like Mabel hyping the both of them up. Because god knows that she needs just as much hyping up with who she is as Dipper.

When he walks into his empty apartment, anxiety wells up in Dippers chest. Quickly he turns on the TV, letting it run as white noise as he makes his lunch. The apartment had been empty since his recent relationship ended. Dipper is glad it ended, as the abuse just got too much; yet it was bad for Dipper to be left alone with his thoughts. Especially in an apartment that seemed to hold so much sadness and bad memories.

Mabel, after helping Dippers style, had made him a whole cookbook for him. It had all different kinds of foods, but the main dishes all were healthy. She had gone on a fitness rampage her sophomore year and had never truly grown out of it. It was from a bad place, but she turned it to a positive. As she always does.

She had told him that it was the first thing other than sleep to keep alive longer. She had made him promise that he would try to stay alive.

At this point it was the only thing keeping Dipper alive.

Bill had taxed his mind so much it was rare to find him not paranoid. Bill made Dippers anxiety beyond chronic, and the lack of sleep did not help his depression.

That had developed after Pacifica. It wasn't because of the break up, more at the fact that she had helped him so much.

She had accepted him being gay. She had helped him gain friends during their relationship, and she even helped him when money wasn't the best.

All this caused his anxiety to get to his head.

What if they think I’m evil for breaking it off with her? What if she'll never want to see me again? What if, what if, what if…

His depression had just gotten worse after the breakup and dealing with being alone again. It was the reason Dipper stayed with someone like that for so long.

All of the depression and anxiety ended up crashing down at the same time Bill Cypher ended up crashing into the picture.

At that point Bill only came to terrorise Dipper a few nights a month. It was easier to deal with. Now it's every night.

Dipper finishes making his food, sitting down in front of the TV to watch a show on Netflix.

He had been getting through the true crime shows. He swore that eventually he'd eventually either run a show like it with Mabel or be one of the cold cases lost to the world.

Yet within only a few minutes Dipper not only found himself asleep, but stuck in the mindscape.

“Been trying to avoid me, Pine Tree?”

Dipper no longer was shocked by Bill's voice. In fact the more and more he heard his voice, the more and more it began to sound almost human.

#billdip #gravity falls #whump writing #slow burn #fanfiction #writers #fandom #fanfic #bill x dipper #dipper pines #bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls pacifica #adult dipper pines #powerless bill cipher

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missconstancehardbroom · 4 years ago

Link

Summary:

There's a talent show in Greendale and by a popular request, you found yourself in a stage with your Ukelele and undeniable love for Zelda Spellman.

But Zelda Spellman misinterprets. Damn

You have no idea how you got on the platform with a ukulele on your hands. You squinted as the makeshift spotlight glared at you from the rafters, obscuring your vision from the crowd chanting your name, encouraging you to sing. You saw Sabrina and her friends at the frontlines clapping their hands like crazy, whistling and grinning at you. You gave them an awkward wave before you pulled the mic stand towards you – you winced when it gave that ear splitting feedback and when you finally succeeded in adjusting the microphone just so it will be a breath away from your lips, you gave it a tentative tap just to make sure it is working properly.

You heard Hilda call out your name from a distance. You squinted your eyes trying to find her and when you did, you felt the heat rush up into your cheeks and you were unsure if it was the light that brought heat unto your cheeks or the redhead standing beside the sweetest Spellman. You waved back at Hilda who, with her elder sister in tow, manage to squirm their way from the back of the crowd towards where Ros, Theo, Sabrina and Harvey were standing. It seems like everyone were cheering for you, all except one. Zelda looked at you indifferently, her arms were entwined on her chest and an obvious frown gracing her lips.

“So, I heard this song a while back and I wanted to dedicate it to my favourite person in the world,” You announced forcing yourself to smile despite the heavy feeling in your chest as you started to pluck the strings of your ukulele, “I hope you like it.”

You watched as Zelda rolled her eyes and took a dramatic sigh before she gave a very unenthusiastic clap towards you. She was obviously distracted with the mortals surrounding her.

“Don’t think about her. Stop thinking about her.” You thought to yourself before you sang the first words of the song.

Am I allowed… to look at her… like that?

Could it be wrong when she’s just so nice to look at?

You could see how Zelda’s brows furrowed when she noticed you were looking at their general direction, then she shifted her gaze unto the woman standing beside her and realized how Hilda was looking back at you with an undeniable dreamy look on her face. You gave them your most charming smile and you shook your head when Hilda gushed at you. You have learned that Hilda had found a habit of listening to you sing without your knowing whenever you do menial tasks like washing dishes or cutting vegetables. You do not like how your voice sounded when you sing and was surprised when one day, Hilda complained to you when you stopped singing for an entire week.

What you didn’t noticed was how Zelda’s mood soured when she notice the silent conversation that you and Hilda shared and mistaken it for something else. She looked at your direction, and if the light have not obscured your vision, you would notice the subtle lines that worried her brows or the quiver on her lips as you sang the next line of the song. Because from where she is standing, she could see the mutual admiring looks that you and Hilda exchanged.

If she only knew who you were truly looking at.

She smells like lemon grass and sleep

She taste like apple juice and peach

If you have not shifted your gaze from Zelda’s direction to look at the strings of your instrument, you would’ve seen the change in her demeanour and that split-second look of heartbreak on her face.

And you would find her, in a Polaroid picture…

And she… means everything to me…

If you have not taken your eyes away from Zelda Spellman, you wouldn’t have missed how she blinked in rapid succession, trying to stop her own tears from brimming in her eyes.

When you turn your gaze back to the crowd, you saw the giddy smile upon Hilda’s face and you gave her an acknowledging wink in which she responded with two thumbs up.

I’d never tell, you nearly chuckled with Hilda’s antics, No I never say a word, you continued singing

You turn your gaze towards Zelda and gave her a tentative smile, but she just stared blankly back at you, bored.

And oh it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt,

Zelda shifted on her feet, glaring at anyone who stood too near to her. She felt her fingers twitching as if looking for a phantom stick of cigarette that she would oh so love to have at that very moment. She chewed on the inside of her lips trying to calm herself in the midst of this storm of emotion bubbling deep in her gut. She felt as if her lungs were about to burst and her throat burning as she tried to stop herself from showing any form of reaction.

How could she not notice? You and her sister has been very close in the recent month that you have stayed with them. She should not be surprised if you had fallen for her ever so perfect sister, Hilda Spellman, who was ever so kind and ever so sweet to you, while she on the other hand, kept her distance. It was safer for her to keep herself at arm’s length towards you and risk of following her brother into falling for another mortal.

But who was she kidding?

Whether or not she wanted to admit it, she hoped that you would look at her the same way you looked at Hilda - with such warmth and admiration. Because in her eyes, whenever you look at her, or even in her general direction, you are always frowning. Always averting your eyes even before your sight landed on her, or when you did look at her, you stare at her with such intensity that she could’ve sworn you cursed her in your thought.

Oh if only she knew what’s really going on in that beautiful brain of yours

She smells like lemon grass and sleep

She taste like apple juice and peach

And you would find her, in a Polaroid picture…

And she… means everything to me…

You closed your eyes, singing your heart out, forgetting the crowd in front of you who were engrossed in listening to the song. You have forgotten all about them as you continue to strum on your ukulele, taking quick glances towards Zelda Spellman, who unlike the other audiences who softly sway on their feet as you sang, stood firmly on the ground.

Well at least she was looking at you.

At least, she was here listening..

Atleast…

You felt your stomach drop when you saw Zelda turn away, starting to leave her spot, it was only because Hilda grabbed the redhead’s right arm and whispered something to her sister’s ears did she decided to stay, against her will, you thought to yourself.

And I’ll be okay, admiring from afar

Cause even when she is next to me

We could not be more far apart

Her fists clenched, unmoved by the fact that you are practically singing the song for her… to her. You even felt your heart break when she waited until you glanced back at her and she yawned. She deliberately poised her hand on her mouth and she yawned.

How you wish you could just walked up to her and tell her to listen because that song was meant for her..

Cause she taste like birthday cake and story time and fall…

But with all the time that you have spent in her presence, it is obvious that whatever you felt about her shall and will forever be unrequited. To her, you are an inconvenience that she hoped she had never come across.

But to her, you heard your voice cracked, you paused from singing and continued to strum as you try to compose yourself and continue singing. But the next words came out more of a whisper than a song…

I taste of nothing at all…

You felt your silent tears start to well in the corner of your eyes. You wet your lips and blinked your eyes, hoping that it would keep the next set of tears from spilling from your eyes at bay.

If only you could tell her the truth. If only you could tell her how you truly feel about her. Then perhaps…

You shook your head when your finger missed a cord, but you continued strumming, and this time, you just fixed your attention on your uke.

She smells like lemon grass and sleep

She taste like apple juice and peach

You kept your eyes closed, your brows furrowed as you sang.

And you would find her, in a Polaroid picture…

The song is coming to an end

And she… means everything to me…

This will soon be over

Yes she… means everything to me…

The song

she… she means everything…

and your feelings for her.

to me…

If only it would be that easy.

When you ended your song, the crowd remained silent. Slowly, you lifted your head and looked at Hilda’s direction, only to find an empty spot where Zelda stood earlier. You force a smile unto your lips and bowed before your audience, which in return earned a resounding applause and cheers.

Funny, you would gladly exchange all of the applause that you received that night for a single smile from Zelda Spellman. But who are you kidding? She barely even acknowledges your existence.

~0~

You gave Hilda a genuine smile when she rushed towards your direction when you went down from the stage still in the euphoric high of applause that you received. She was still clapping and nearly jumping on her feet when she hugged you and told you how marvellous you sounded. You blushed in embarrassment when other people from the crowd approached you and requested for you to have another go on the stage, which you politely declined. You have enough embarrassment tonight to last a lifetime.

Your eyes scanned the sea of faces around you, looking for the tell-tale shade of red that is Zelda’s Spellman’s hair, but you saw none of her, not even her shadow.

“She went home, darling,” Hilda pulled you in to a whisper, “She’s not a really big fan of crowds such as this.”

You just nodded and walked with Hilda away from the stage, Sabrina and her friends were nowhere in sight, perhaps they now enjoying the fair rides somewhere. You bought some knickknacks to bring home for Ambrose, you heard how much he loved Shawarma wraps and so you decided to buy him three Shawarma wraps and two shawarma rice for yourself with extra hot sauce.

You and Hilda talk your way to the mortuary, laughing at the silliest of things. This is the sight that Zelda Spellman saw when the two of you arrived at the front porch steps of the Spellman house.

“And here I thought the two of you have been murdered on your way home,” said Zelda, having a drag of her cigarette, “You better prepare for dinner, Hilda. I don’t think whatever Y/N has in those bags were any good enough to eat.”

You glared at Zelda, biting your tongue just so to avoid another confrontation. She had been terribly difficult in the last couple of weeks and you just do not know why. You have asked Hilda about it before but she just shrugged her shoulder saying that ‘Zelds was just not in the mood’ or that, ‘She had always been like that.’

Hilda took the bags from you despite of your protest, before she headed back inside the house, leaving you and Zelda alone. Despite of the fact that the two of you were practically standing shoulder-to-shoulder, the two of you did not truly acknowledged each other. Zelda was staring at the direction of the driveway while your eyes are focused on the closed red door.

You wanted to start a conversation with Zelda, you wanted to tell her that you were hurt with how she acted earlier, but you realized that it would just be pointless. Zelda would just simply shrug you off and you will feel terrible. And besides, you were still upset with her.

“You sang beautifully earlier,” said Zelda, not bothering to look at you.

“Thank you?,” you replied with a bitter smile. You wanted to ask her why she left early, but you know you will only have silence as her answer. You are about to step into the house when Zelda called out your name.

You paused and did not turn around to look at her.

“If you really liked her as much as you said in the song, I think you should tell her.” said Zelda behind you, “A love unrequited will only remain unrequited if the other person does not know the truth, don’t you think?”

“Believe me or not, Miss Spellman, it will do none of us any good if the person in question knows my affliction,” you looked back over your shoulders, “and it is not love unrequited, at least not yet. It’s love unacknowledged, and I am thankful it will remain so for as long as I am able.”

“Besides,” you added, staring deep into Zelda’s ocean green eyes, “she never cared for me at all. So what’s the point?”

When you saw realization flash into Zelda’s eyes, you rushed back into the kitchen. You are certain Zelda would not ask more personal questions to you if you are with her sister.

This is for the best, you thought to yourself.

At least for now.

#zelda spellman #Zelda Spellman x Reader #Songfic #Zelda deserves to be serenaded #But she have no idea the song was for her #Because reader is an idiot who cannot confess her feelings #or better yet does not want to confess her feelings

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tragedyloved · 4 years ago

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ok so here’s all my thoughts in some coherent order:

should’ve just scrapped the targoviste plot line and had syp.ha & trev.or head to the castle. Why? because honestly, if anyone needs to know that they’re trying to bring dr.acula back from the dead, it would probably be, you know, his son?? It would have streamlined their story lines.

Greta needed more screen time, and that would have helped with that too. I’d have liked to see more of their interaction instead of the forced kind of camaraderie we get. I like her, or at least the concept they gave of her, but she’s hardly a character as things go. I enjoy the dynamic we see between her and adr.ian but i needed more--especially for him to be spilling what happened with Ta.ka and S.umi. He was sobbing on the floor over this and then spiraled, drinking his days away. Like, you just tell a random stranger about all that in such a blase kind of way too? ugh.

Really sad Trev.or and Sy.pha were underutilized in this season bc of how.....bland the whole thing in tar.goviste was. Yeah, okay, whatever distance mirror and the dagger, but did their going to targoviste actually DO anything for the plot? No. Even Adria.n traveling with the villagers was more important to the plot because of Sai.nt Ger.main wanting to use them to open the infinite corridor.

They start with this dissent between the women in Styria and then...dont do anything there. So Morana and Striga are out on the frontlines and then suddenly start discussing how this is probably no good. Carmilla is dreaming of world domination. Lenore is feeling like she’s old news. All that could have gone somewhere if they focused on Styria as a threat and tied it in with everything else, but it was so far removed as a plot that it only served for Is.aac’s plot and then once it was finished...they promptly forgot about him.

Car.milla was hyped up and then just...died. The quality of that fight scene was so bad i paused it at one point and it was nothing like the very, very smooth animation they had for s.ypha fighting night creatures in s3e1.

Uh?? Saint Ge.rmain’s whole flashback was just weird since She never spoke, She was a nobody, and all I got was that She apparently enamored him bc she could hold her own in a fight. like who was she, dunno, they didn’t care to explain.

I’d have really liked Sai.nt Ge.rmain’s whole crazy God thing if the rest of the story had been tight.

Hect.or & Leno.re turned out just. weird. like Okay That Happened Now Let’s Be Friends.

Did enjoy the Trio getting back together and having their happy ending so ill give them that. ;_; adri.an telling s.ypha to stay. and the whole “trefor” joke is a great inside joke l m a o

but before that: death coming out from nowhere was kinda dumb. would’ve been cooler if the rebus just ended up being a terrifying monster that they had to kill Again. Awful trauma points for Adri.an but it would have been more cohesive than...........death guy.

I liked all the game monster nods

Why did Trev.or have to fight Death alone when S.ypha and Adri.an can fly? I will ask this for all eternity. Explain.

Trephacarta. that’s all im saying ok.

overall really messy season, not that interesting.

#castlevania spoilers #tbd #raive speaks

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medeafive · 4 years ago

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Blood and Stone -02

Masterpost

"You're really lucky," Bruce confirms, staring into the microscope at her blood sample. "Looks like you don't have silver poisoning. Not for lack of trying, though."

Natasha sits up uncomfortably, rubbing the bandage over her left palm. "What would that even look like? In humans?"

"Argyria?" Bruce asks. "Skin turns blue or blue-grey. Either locally or generalized. Potentially toxic in high doses or at chronic exposure. Deposits usually in the skin, hence the color, in other organs, particularly the eyes. Can damage rods in the eye, impairing vision, particularly night vision, and can also impact organ functions. Most of all, never ever goes away."

Natasha shudders. "Sounds like it could be worse."

"It's doubtful the dose you took would have killed a vampire," Bruce adds sternly. "Even if he drank all the blood in your hand. People have experimented with that in the past, it only works very very rarely. So stop poisoning yourself."

Fury is staring at her with one eye. Oh great, he's gonna have words. "Promise," Natasha says. "Won't do it again."

"Hope so," Bruce repeats, cleaning out the petri dish. "Tell me if your hand does go blue in the sun. Other than that, you should rest for at least a week, you look like you got run over."

Plus going out into the night with a bleeding wound is suicide, no matter how well bandaged. And really, she just wants to sleep. But first, she'll have to face Fury, Fury standing there, arms crossed. She sighs, turning to face him, not trusting her legs enough to get up. "Come on. Just get it over with, I know I fucked up."

Bruce decides he maybe should not be here and excuses himself. Fury's face doesn't change, even when the door falls shut. She snorts inwardly, as if the silent treatment would work on her. But she's tired. "Just say it. I broke the rules."

"I don't appreciate you trying to sacrifice yourself," Fury states. "But I can't say I don't understand it."

Not the tone she expected. She breathes in deeply, against the protest of her rips. "That's not-"

"It is," Fury interrupts. "But that's never going to work. So sleep, and then we'll work out how we get this motherfucker together ."

She sighs again. Boy, her right shoulder still hurts from time to time, even though Bruce relocated it and put her on painkillers. "Do you think that's going to work, though? That we have a chance?"

"I don't know," Fury replies honestly. "But if there is, that's the only way."

Strangely enough, nobody really asks her what the black cloak actually wanted. Then again, it's probably a bunch of lies anyway. Except that he honestly doesn't seem to plan on killing her or he really would have. Why would she trust anything he claims to want, though? She won't be played with.

While Fury mostly lets her off the hook, Clint is very pissed at her. The words reckless, crazy and suicidal fall. She holes herself up in her room, sleeps, only comes out at night to eat and generally pretends she's dead.

Her left hand grows an unhealthy ashen color, swelling up as well, especially around the cut, creeping up her forearm. So she does have some silver poisoning. She doesn't show Bruce, though, because she is so fucking tired. Sleeps most of the day. It calms down after a few days of rest, only leaving another scar in her palm.

"You're a pale motherfucker, Romanoff," Tony the tinker remarks, stuffing more grapes into his mouth with his greasy fingers. "Maybe I should point a UV beam at you?"

She snorts, opening the fridge. At least she doesn't have to look for her own food anymore, like when she was running around Saint Petersburg all alone. "I'll hack your precious fingers off. Where's the meat?"

"Meatpacking plant got attacked again," Tony clarifies. "No, seriously. Do you remember the sun? Incredibly bright, yellowish, gives you that weird warm feeling?"

"I do go out during the day," she insists, slamming the door of the fridge shut. At least some bacon… but no. "When I'm not recovering. Seriously, no meat at all?"

"None, Clint ate the last sausages," Tony states, slapping after a fly but missing. "You can take some of Sam's protein powder, he claims it's very healthy."

She rolls her eyes demonstratively, yanking the fridge open again, spotting some eggs at least. "Guess it's better than them going on a killing rampage in Vinohrady. Though I would die for a juicy burger."

"Don't flirt with me, Romanoff, we talked about this," Tony teases. "Bruce says it's more like a gateway drug. The animal blood, not the flirting. That too but he obviously didn't mention that."

She gives him a warning look, cracking the eggs into the pan. "What are you even doing? It's the middle of the night."

"Pepper's out tonight, testing her new armor," Tony replies. "Probably not coming back soon, though. Actually, I should go back to bed."

Natasha grins crudely. "Awww. Can't sleep, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, you heartless shell of a human," Tony returns. "Enjoy your stupid eggs."

Her shoulder still slows her down. Jab. Block. Jab- too slow. His kick hits her, knocking her back. Fuck. Block. Dodge. Jab jab- ouch. He doesn't take it, probably because he knows he doesn't need it. Upstrike. Jab cross jab knee strike- it actually lands, though not very hard. Block. Dodge. Block. Punch- too slow. Block block block. Kick. Blocked. He catches her on her back foot so she stumbles back, block, dodge, lash out, tumble-

She grunts as she lands on her bandaged hand. Should get up before he pounces, not give him the chance to- fuck, she's so tired. She groans, dropping on her back. "Fine. I give up."

"Took you long enough," Sam remarks, unwrapping his hands. "You're a lot stronger than you look, though, I have to give you that."

She huffs, pulling her knees up. Breathe. "Not quite back at my best yet."

"Pretty close," Sam corrects, holding a hand out for her. "Wanna get up? I'm cooking dinner."

She waves him off. Not in the mood for that many people. "Thanks. Just gonna lie here."

"Mhm." He sits down next to her. "Is everyone mean to you, just because you disregarded every rule of safe conduct in the face of an unprecedented danger?"

"Fuck you and your psychology degree," she returns. "Just leave me alone."

"You're really no good at dealing with problems that you can't shoot in the face," Sam observes, getting back on his feet. "I haven't done my isha prayer yet, do you mind?"

She shakes her head, staying on the floor. She won't admit it but she actually enjoys listening to him pray. While she can no longer believe in God, it gives her some momentary comfort that he can. "I'll put some food aside for you later," he offers while getting his bowl and filling it with water. "Whenever you feel like eating."

She nods to herself, closing her eyes, then quiets her breath down enough so she can hear him recite Basmala and wash his hands.

Clint also gives her the silent treatment, even after a week. She can live with that. Though she doesn't really want to. The streets are way more quiet at night now, but people are starting to doubt there's really a black cloak. If there was, it would have to somehow be worse, more murders, more blood in the streets than just the occasional execution of inept vampire fledglings. If the hammer doesn't come down, no matter how loud it cuts through the air, one starts wondering whether it's really there.

They're patrolling the riverside today, up from Vyšehrad towards the National Theatre, staring occasionally across the Vltava. The castle's lit brightly, tauntingly. As if they're holding a crooked dance of the dead. Clint draws his bow, just for the hell of it, because a patrol is always an incredibly tense and taut affair. He's right, the bow's incredibly quiet. The vampire the silver arrow hits won't be, though. Slowly releases. Natasha breathes out. "They're really high on their horses, aren't they."

Clint makes a non-committal noise, shrugging and turning away. Won't cut it. There's a car coming down from Karlovo Náměstí, loudly spluttering over the breaks in the asphalt. The roads have seen better days, too. Clint raises an eyebrow and puts in an arrow. Vampires don't drive, obviously, but they often follow cars waiting for the occupants to stop and climb out. Easy prey. The car's brakes screech as it prepares for the turn, the driver's face flashing yellow as it comes closer to the street light, eyes widening, and then he yanks the car to the left, speeding past and away from them, South. Maybe, if he drives far enough outside the city, he'll be safe. Clint snorts, lowering the bow. "Yeah, thanks."

As if they looked like vampires, with all the body armor and all the silver on their persons. Natasha shakes her head, internally grateful the silence is broken. "Forget about him. Let's check the roofs around, maybe the noise lured some out."

Clint nods, shuffling across the now again empty street. They know the area very well, since it's the closest thing they have to a frontline, the hunting parties from the castle crossing the river to find prey. "You wanna stay on the ground?"

"No, coming with you," Natasha replies quickly, following him through a backyard. She promised not to run around alone after all, and she doesn't feel like suffering the silence alone either. There's music playing somewhere inside, soft and jazzy, somewhere in the warm light behind the curtains. Clint throws a grappling hook up a balcony, grabbing onto her wordlessly, and then they're already pulled up into the night sky, climbing and crawling up onto the roof.

The noise is different up here, less people, more wind. There's some traffic, somewhere, constant humming in the background. Cars these days are fairly safe. Getting out is the hard part. There's light in some windows, those that aren't behind wooden shutters. The river glitters with the moonlight. Clint settles on the top of the roof, surveying the area. She crawls up as well, pushing some loose strands of hair behind her ears. The shadows are quiet, for now.

"I'm sorry if I worried you," she says. "That was not my intention."

Clint bites his lip. It's clear he doesn't want to talk. Well, so would she, but here they are. "Fury didn't even care, did he?"

"Because he didn't rip my head off?" Natasha questions.

"You could've died ," Clint repeats. "Damn close. You shouldn't even have gone out. He didn't seem overly concerned, to say the least."

"Guess he lost a few too many," Natasha replies. "This job… it helps not to get too attached."

"That's not what you deserve," Clint states.

Someone opens a window, a middle-aged woman, pulling out a cigarette. When she sees their silhouettes on the roof, she slams and bolts the window again.

"It's after 1am, isn't it?" Natasha asks. "They're getting careless again."

Clint huffs. "Aren't we all. See that down there?"

Natasha leans over the edge to see better. "Think that's just a bag of trash. After all, been a long time since we last saw a homeless person."

"You never saw that, did you," Clint remarks. "Wasn't great seeing them, but not seeing them anymore is worse."

Natasha huffs. "Plenty of homeless people in Moscow. And Petersburg. The very first ones they got, when no one cared yet."

"Got something of a divine punishment, doesn't it," Clint states. "Turning those we neglected against us."

"Man is wolf to man, right," Natasha agrees. A light turns on somewhere and there's faint arguing carried over by the wind. She remembers women locked out of their apartments by abusive partners after sundown, kids thrown out by their parents, the threat of being left outside in the dark hanging over everything. Since the police stopped patrolling at night, everything falls into nothing. Anarchy. At the mercy of whoever's stronger, more brutal.

Clint gets up carefully, watching every step. "Let's cross to the other side."

They climb South, over the roofs. What they don't tell you is that most of the time, nothing happens, nothing at all. Just sitting around, paying constant attention and definitely not falling asleep because that gets you killed. Also why you don't go out alone. It's 90% boring as hell and 10% deadly.

There's hardly any movement on this side either. Another stray feline beast. Rats, almost bigger than the cat. Many of the windows are just empty, dead. The city lost a hundred thousand to the vampires and another three hundred thousand to the safer seeming countryside, not counting the other side of the river. Everything has changed so much. It's like a war, right here, only fought at night. A bloody war.

The silence is more comfortable now. Clouds move quickly, with the wind, and the moonlight soon drowns in them. "I don't know if someone told you," Clint remarks quietly. "But I wasn't particularly pleased when you came here to join us."

Natasha smiles to herself. "I know."

"You didn't seem like a teamplayer, to put it mildly," Clint justifies. "And you're still holding back, but you know the ropes now."

Does she, now? "Is that why you were so pissed I went out alone?"

Clint laughs, bellowing. "Turns out you don't actually think you can solve every problem on your own. Just that you have to."

"Not true," she returns, pushing against his shoulder, carefully, and then they settle into an amicable silence.

After about half an hour, the armor becomes uncomfortable to sit in. It's not a cold night but moisture has still settled on the roof so that she's extra careful getting up. Clint stretches his arms. She slips slightly, grabbing onto the edge of an alcove to steady herself, only slowly straightening again.

"Tasha!"

She whips around, just in time to see a black silhouette diving towards her, it crashes into her like a wall, knocking her far off the roof, she grabs on automatically, twisting, window straight ahead, rolls up to prepare for-

Just as she slams into the glass pane, her side , she's pulled back and suddenly, they're diving down another street, cool night air cutting tears into her eyes, oh shit, house, house, stone, closer, closer, closer-

They ricochet off almost noiselessly, up again, towards whichever fucking floor that is, another street, another house, another window, house, stone, glass glass glass-

Whatever she's knocked into doesn't break but she hears the glass, barely has time to roll in on herself, then they crash, stopped, all the speed turning into impact , some crack , and boy, her spine.

She's thrown around once again but then it stops, only her insides swim, her sight, sick, sick, can't hear properly, her vision swims red, groans, the glass beneath her crunches but the armor, thank Tony, up, down, up, up, up, she presses her eyes shut and her gloved hands down, her back hurts , right side, shoulder, no time, she fights herself up to seated. The black cloak stands by an intact window, up, they're high up, staring out, boy, she's ready to throw up. "Are you batshit crazy ?!"

He doesn't reply obviously, that fucking asshole, intently focused outside. She tries to breathe again, despite her ribcage and the pressure of her armor. "We should be good," he states, not paying her any mind. "He's going the other- ouch. "

She reaches for her gun while he plucks the silver throwing star out of his thigh, only to find the belt must have ripped, cut by one window or the other, gone, and then he's already turned back to her and she missed her chance. "For the last fucking time, could you stop throwing things at me?"

"Are you insane ?!" she screams at him. "The fuck are you doing?"

He rolls his white eyes, throwing star dropping to the ground carelessly. He's bleeding but not much, as far as she can tell. Dammit. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" she repeats. " Calm down ?"

"Try not to cut yourself," he advises. "I'm sorry I hurt you last time, I'm not going to do it again."

This guy is un-fucking-real. Off-the-chart annoying. Another wave of sickness overcomes her. "Maybe don't knock me through a window next time? Two. Two windows."

"You didn't go through the first one," he returns. "And I took the second one for you, you're welcome. Not my fault you're so hard to grab for a talk."

"Oh, now it's my fault?" she questions. "A fucking talk ?"

"Yes." He strides over. "Have you decided?"

"Whether I would rather be turned into a monster," she clarifies. "Or see all of my friends die."

"Yes," he confirms calmly, squatting down to her height. "It's not going to become any easier."

"I was being sarcastic," she remarks. "How about I get rid of you instead?"

He smirks, fang peaking out, and dangling something from his hand. Her belt. With the guns. Motherfucker. "Don't think so, sweetheart."

She calculates mentally whether there's any chance she could snatch that- not without a good distraction. But she can't think of anything other than cutting herself, and she's not ready for that. "I could always bite the bullet myself."

He chuckles, and it sounds frighteningly human . "No, you wouldn't."

"You don't know anything about me," she bites back.

"I know more than you think," he replies, straightening and backing away, taking the belt with him. The throwing star is by the window, too far, can't reach. Is there anything else… "I know why you left Russia."

She freezes, very cold all of a sudden. No. No. Nononononono- "I know what you did there," he adds. "Really, you're not better than anyone."

She jumps to her feet, crunching glass. Don't engage. Don't feed the flames. "Give me my guns. Or I'll cut myself."

He seems exasperated. "You couldn't goad me into a blood frenzy if you cut an artery."

Bluffing. "Guns," she repeats, holding out a hand.

"I could still murder your friends," he points out coldly. "Starting with the one with the arrows."

Her hand drops. Her head's still spinning. Shouldn't poker too high. She feels very lost all of a sudden. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeats for the umpteenth time. "Or any of your friends, if I don't have to. Just agree already."

"I don't give a fuck about your empty lies," she spits.

"Well, I do," he replies. "You know, you remind me of myself. Before."

"Before you turned into a fucking monster," she specifies. "Before you started hunting humans for blood."

He looks slightly disgusted. "I hardly ever feed on humans."

"Oh great," she cuts him off. "Then you're hardly ever a murderer."

Surprisingly, he throws her one of her guns. She's too slow to catch. "This look innocent to you? But I forget, you're obviously something better ."

There's a trap somewhere. She can't just shoot him- "I'll take you to Žižkov," he announces. "Satisfy your own bloody urges. Then you can think about whether you're really all that different."

#blood and stone #buckynat #vampire au #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #fanfic #my writing

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evanstanwrites · 5 years ago

Text

The Notebook - 5- (slow updates)

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warning: angst , so much angst so please don’t hate me.

In 1940, Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes meets 17-year-old y/n at a carnival.

cowriter: @pawfect-melody

cover by: @im-finallly-clean

series masterlist

Dear y/n,

it’s been exactly 15 hours and 38 minutes since you left. god I already miss you like crazy. I don’t know what to do without you or how to go on. I want you back, I take back what I said, please don’t find someone else. I’ll wait for you, I'll wait till you’re back here in my arms. or I’ll get another job and save all my earnings so I can come to you. Please darling, wait for me too. I'll come for you and then I'll make you my wife and we’ll live in the house by the lake, I'll fix it for you. Please come back to me, doll.

i love you,

with all my heart, always yours,

Bucky.

Dear y/n,

It's been 4 days, 13 hours and 25 minutes since I last saw you, last heard your beautiful voice, last held you in my arms and tasted your sweet soft lips on mine. I can still feel you, smell your sweet perfume. I miss you so much doll, tell me you’re okay and arrived home safely.

I dreamt of you last night, I dreamt that I had you back in my arms again and we danced all night long. It could have been our wedding day.

I love you,

your Bucky

Dear y/n,

3 months, 2 weeks and 5 days, and I still haven’t received a letter back from you. Are you still mad at me? god doll, I’ll always regret what happened between us, how it ended. I’m so sorry doll, I still hope and wait for the day we’ll meet again.

I heard the war is moving closer and closer, Steve and I are enlisting to help the troops overseas. I hope war never reaches where you are, keep safe doll.

i love you,

your Bucky

------------------

2 years later

“TAKE COVER!!” “INCOMING!” “AIR ATTACK!”

multiple screams were heard over the open field somewhere in Flanders surrounded by trenches where the American troops had set up camp. Most of the day was spent by making sure their gear was in the best condition and altered if needed, wounded cared for and newlings were trained. The day had passed without any incidents and then the worst happened.

Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes sat around a small fire munching on some bread, Bucky writing yet again another letter to his love y/n when they heard the screams followed by the sound of the sirens. An air attack could be seen coming in from the horizon, their time of rest was over. Both men were quickly on their feet gun ready if needed, they didn’t have cannons or other big guns at their disposal to defend themselves against air attacks. They needed to take shelter and wait this one out before they could try and reclaim more land from the Germans. Even though everyone here was a soldier and knows what to do in these kind of situations, panic erupted everywhere in the camp, not a soul wanted to be outside the shelter. But of course both Steve and Bucky waited to help others into the shelter.

“Bucky, you should go inside too. Those planes will be here soon, we don’t have much time left, go.” Steve yells to him from halfway across the field.

“No! I’m not leaving you alone out here, not with an incoming attack.” he screams back

“As your Captain I command you to go!”

“No! Not without you!”

But it was already too late, the first planes arrived over the top of the field.

----------

Finally after all this time y/n had finished nursing school and was sent off to help care for wounded soldiers at the frontlines in Europe. She wasn’t going alone, she had quickly made some new friends during her studies, Lacy, Wanda and Natasha that had also been recruited for the job.

“who knows maybe we’ll meet some hot soldiers when we arrive.” Natasha giggles as she nudges y/n who was staring out of the train window looking at the passing scenery deeply sunken down into her thoughts.

“ugh? what?” she asks surprised when she felt the nudge.

“Where are you with your thoughts? are you thinking about a man?” Wanda teases.

Oh, if they only knew that she was in fact thinking about a man, her man, even if he technically wasn’t her man anymore she never stopped thinking about Bucky hoping that he would write her like he said he would. But his letter never came so she figured that he had moved on. Had he found someone else, was he happy or did he miss her as much as she missed him? she would never stop loving him, how could she? he was her first real love, everything could have ended differently if she hadn’t been made move, they could have still been together maybe even married. However, she couldn’t keep wallowing in the past, she had to keep going and leave the past in the past, she had to move on.

“oh no, just wondering about how everything will be at the camp when we arrive.” y/n quickly makes up.

“well I said that maybe we’ll meet some hot soldiers.” Natasha repeats herself just as the train arrives at the station. the girls keep giggling and talking between them as they get up with their stuff and make their way through the train towards the exit. y/n already being in a better mood was now enthusiastically talking along with her friends as they exit the train with all their luggage stepping onto the busy platform not really looking where she was going when she heard Lacy calling out to her. “y/n! look out” but it was too late, she collided with a hard body dropping everything she was holding onto the station grounds.

“oh god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” she started to apologise as she bends down to pick up her things.

“it’s okay ma’am I wasn’t really looking where I was going either.” the man spoke up in a friendly and warm voice as he dropped to his knees and helped her gather her stuff. When she looks up at him she finds two brown eyes looking back at her, he was a handsome man and for a moment she didn’t know what to say to him so she quickly mutthered a simple “hello”

the man chuckled but gave her a wide smile as he helped her back to her feet and handed her her stuff that had fallen.

“Hello, I’m Tony Stark. it’s a pleasure meeting you ma’am.” He introduced himself.

“y/n y/ln.”

--------

The moment Bucky saw the planes he knew it would be impossible for them both to reach the shelter in time. He had to decide if he would try to run to the shelter and hope he would make it in time or run to Steve and at least try to get them both to safety. Knowing that their chances were slim to none on making it back alive. But he couldn’t leave his best friend behind not after everything they had been through so he started to ran towards Steve. Everything happend quickly and before he knew the first bombs started to fall exploding around them, the shockwaves pushing him to fall to the ground with a smack, he knew he didn’t have much time till another wave of bombs would fall. so as fast as he could he got up to his feet and started to run in the direction of where he had last seen Steve but he wasn’t there anymore. He heard faint groaning coming from the trenches just a few feet from where he stood, he quickly followed the sound and made his way down in the trench.

“STEVE!” he called out to only get the groaning in return. Steve was laying on the ground covered in dirt. Bucky quickly made his way to his best friend and kneeled down next to him ready to help him to his feet and back to safety when his eyes fell to his face. blood, steve wasn’t covered in dirt but in blood, it seemed that one of the bombs exploded closer to him than he thought it had. Bucky quickly found where the blood had come from, there was a big gash just above his right eye that seemed to go till his ear and was the reason his face was covered but then his eyes fell to his upper leg and Bucky almost lost what little he had inside his stomach. It was too gross for words and there and then he realised he was too late, there was no way Steve could survive the bloodloss. Bucky refused to give up on him so without thinking he pushed his hands onto the bleeding wound on top of his thigh, if he was able to keep his friend alive long enough for help to arrive maybe there was a chance he would survive this. but just as he wanted to put pressure onto the wound he felt a biting pain in his left shoulder.

“Buck, you’re hurt.” Steve softly muttered out as he tried to lift his hand towards the bleeding wound on Bucky’s left shoulder.

Bucky just cursed as he grabbed Steve’s hand trying to calm his probably dying friend.

“it’s okay Steve, I’m okay, we’ll be okay, help is on the way. just hold on punk.”

“No... it’s not... Buck...I won’t make it...tell Ruth I love her.” he stutters

“you tell her yourself damnit.” Bucky growls knowing well enough Steve was right and he should tell his friend that he would do as he asked but before he could open his mouth a new wave of planes arrived above them, it was too late.

----------

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tags:

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