#like hes already done evil things and everyones scared of him might as well lean into the 'yeah and i KILL KITTENS dont mess with me' act

[hands0mejack]

Timothy liking cats isnt a foil for Handsome Jack hating cats. Its because of the Jack DNA still inside of him. Jack actually likes cats and had three of them that ran around the office. He got one after he moved out of his abusive grandma's house. He coped with the trauma of her killing his pet by getting his own and knowing it would be much safer (because he's taking care of them. Like obviously no pet is 100% safe in this universe but like at least he has more control over the situation.)

The only reason people think Jack hates cats is because they can hear him screaming saying he's going to kill all of them because they threw up cat food in the doorway to his office, spilled an open glass of water on his keyboard, pooped outside the litter box, peed on his Hyperion bag, etc. etc.

He had full meltdowns standing with his head down, hands on the window of his Helios office and seething with rage, before one of the cats rubs against his leg and starts purring and he's like 🙄 oh my god okay okay....wittle baby kitty didn't mean to im sowwy. But no one alive ever heard that part.

[laurie-stark]

Only A Moment

(not my gif)

Summary: Another hunt goes wrong, but this time it leads to some...unconventional release of anger.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairings: Sam Winchester x OC

A/N: you guys on tumblr deserved this too

Once again, the drive back to the motel was silent. A knife could slice right through the tension in the air, and Kath was tempted to try. Bobby had sent them on another demon goose chase, this time in Minnesota. They made it out without a scratch, but only barely. The demon was stronger than average and possessed the body of a little girl. And demon or not, no one wants to hurt a little girl. To Sam and Kath, the answer was obvious. Sam could trick shot the demon back to hell in less than five minutes and they would all be on their merry way. Dean said no. After an hour of back and forth between the boys, Sam decided he was old enough to stop listening to his big brother. The little girl was returned home to her parents before the night was over. And the night was far from over. 

Kath bit her lip in the backseat of Baby the car. She glanced nervously between the two brothers. Dean was stiff as he drove, going well above the speed limit. Sam had his head leaning against the window. It was not often that Kath disagreed with Dean. For most of their lives together she’d follow him blindly. It was second nature. But Sam’s addiction was something they could not find a middle ground on. Dean didn't understand. He was human after all. He didn’t have a disease coursing through his veins. He wasn’t created as the product of all things good and evil. He did not understand. 

The moment Dean pulled into the parking lot, he unleashed weather greater than God on his baby brother. Kath sighed and ran a hand over her face. This was not helping. At this point in their journey, Sam was not in the mood to be chastised. He had saved them, saved everyone. Dean should be grateful. Sam got out of the car while Dean was mid-sentence, slamming the door on his way into the motel room. 

Dean had about a million rules when it came to Baby, and slamming her car doors was a felony. Kath inhaled sharply, not because the sound of the door scared her, but because she could literally see Dean’s face turning a bright shade of red. If she squinted she could see steam coming out of his ears. 

“That little shit!” Dean said, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. He moved to get out of the car but Kath stopped him.

“Dean stop,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “You know as well as I do that we were trapped. If Sam hadn’t done what he did then we’d all be as good as dead.” 

Dean was not listening. “That’s not saying much since Sammy’s already halfway gone to hell.” The sentence stung Kath and it wasn’t even aimed at her. To anyone else, the idea of going to hell was a passing thought. Coming from Dean though, Kath couldn’t believe he’d say something like that. Not after the thirty years Dean endured. For Sam, she might add. Kath opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. And Dean was already halfway into the motel room. 

Kath entered the musty motel room to the brothers having a catfight. They were shouting so loudly that Kath couldn’t make out what was being said. She almost got trampled by Dean as she walked through the doorway. He pushed past her, got into his car, and drove off into the night. It all happened so fast that Kath got dizzy. She got a grip on her footing and gently closed the motel door, locking it with a click. Sam was pacing across the floor with his hands in his hair. 

“Don’t let him get to you Sammy, he doesn’t get it,” Kath said. She took a few steps towards him so he would stop pacing. It always made her nervous. Sam stopped in his tracks. His hands dropped to his side and he stared at her blankly. 

“Can you shut up?”

Kath’s jaw dropped. In all their years of bickering and pissing one another off, he had never once told her to shut up. In fact, Sam told her on numerous occasions how much he valued her opinions. She was shocked. 

“Well fuck me for trying to be helpful!” Kath threw her hands up in defeat. “You are such an asshole, you know that?” 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Sam muttered under his breath, ignoring Kath’s asshole comment. 

“What?” Kath asked, not hearing what Sam said.

“I said you’re full of shit,” Sam responded. “You think you know me? You think you understand what I am? You have no idea what it’s like to be…to be this.” Sam gestured to himself. “I’m poisonous Kath.” 

“Do I need to remind you that you’re not the only one who learned life-changing information? There is no part of me that’s human! I have been a walking vessel from the moment I was born Sam. So fuck you for saying I don’t understand.” 

The vein in Sam’s forehead was beginning to grow, which meant Kath was really getting under his skin. Normally she wouldn’t dig herself any deeper, but he was rude to her when she just wanted him to know she cared. He had it coming. 

“At least I can say I’ve got some good in me. You’re closer to evil than I’ll ever be.” 

Sam closed his hands into fists. He brought one up to his mouth to bite his tongue. Although his stature would never show it, Kath’s statement hurt Sam down to his core. It was in his nature to be evil and he fought against it in his every waking moment. 

Kath stared at Sam through furrowed brows. She waited for him to respond, to retort with a snarky comment about how she was acting like a brat or a princess or one of the other thousand remarks he’d made before. His silence scared her. His posture was furious, but his eyes were hurt. She knew she had taken it too far. 

“Look,” Kath started. “I’m sorry. We’re both exhausted. Let’s just forget about it.” She didn’t wait for a response. Kath stepped past him to go take a much-needed shower. With one wrong footstep, she accidentally pushed her shoulder against his. The impact made Sam stumble sideways. She hadn’t meant to push him, but he didn’t know that. He was fed up with her and the way she made him feel. Like he was worth something and worthless all at once. 

Without thinking Sam grabbed hold of Kath’s right arm tightly. He pulled her towards him, her back flush against his chest. He felt her inhale sharply. He leaned his head down to the space between her chin and her shoulder. Kath could feel his warm breath tickling her neck. 

“What are you doing?” Kath asked, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Truthfully, Sam didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he was angry and she was there. And from the way her hips pressed back against him, he could tell she wanted something as much as he did. Sam loosened his grip as Kath twisted her neck to look up at him. Kath’s eyes were wide with confusion, Sam’s looked at her with desire. Their lips were dangerously close to one another. Something in the air snapped and it was unclear who made the first move. But the next thing Kath knew, she was kissing Sam with force she didn’t know she was capable of. 

Sam’s hands were all over Kath’s body, turning her so that she was facing him completely. He brought a hand up to cup her chin, tilting it upward so he could get more access to her mouth. All of Kath’s better judgment had flown out the window. She let Sam devour her, tongues clashing and hands flying. The kiss took all the air out of her lungs. Sam leaned back to let them both take a breath before leaning down to kiss her once again. Clarity washed over Kath as she inhaled and suddenly she was very aware of what was going on. She pushed both hands against his chest, putting some much-needed space between their bodies. 

Sam and Kath stood on opposite ends of the motel room. The light above them flickered in time with their laboured breaths. What the hell was that? Kath was unsure, but deep down she liked it. Something inside her burned and ached for more. She stood a little taller, shoulders back a little straighter. Her mind was clear this time and she took one long stride towards Sam. In one fluid moment, she pulled his head down to hers and their lips met again. This time, it was Kath who enveloped Sam in an embrace. The sudden movements made Sam stumble backward until his back hit the wall behind him. He braced his weight against it, letting it hold him up so he could focus his strength on kissing Kath. Neither one of them knew where all this passion was coming from, but they weren’t exactly eager to stop it. Sam groaned into Kath’s mouth as her fingers tangled in his soft hair, tugging ever so slightly. Kath smirked inwardly at that, making a mental note to do that again later. 

Sam’s hands were erratic, travelling from the nape of Kath’s neck down to her waist. He wanted to explore every inch of her. The tips of his fingers made their way underneath her tank top. She gasped at the contact and pressed her body closer to his. She could feel his heart racing underneath his shirt. She wanted, no she needed to feel him. She had never done anything like this before. Sure there was the odd townsboy she’d meet on a hunt, but she had never done anything more than kiss them. She had no idea what she was doing, but at the same time, it felt natural. Kath broke the kiss hastily and started to tug on the hem of Sam’s shirt, signalling that she wanted it gone. Sam slowly placed his hands on top of hers, stopping her. She looked at him confused. Wasn’t this the natural next step? 

“Do you want this?” Sam’s voice was low against her neck. Kath nodded. “I need to hear you say it, Kath.” In all that she knew about sex, she wasn’t aware there was supposed to be talking. Could Sam not feel how badly she wanted this? 

“Please,” Kath said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam pulled back in surprise. “Please?” He echoed, almost mocking her. A dark smirk fell across his face and he tilted his head sideways. “I can work with that.” 

Sam’s hands grip Kath’s hips tightly and he walks her backwards towards the motel bed. She almost trips over it, landing flat on her ass with Sam towering over her. She is reminded of the last time they were alone in a motel room together like this. She’d wanted him then too. Now she could have him. 

Sam gestured for Kath to move up the bed and she complied. He was impressively large above her. He began to crawl towards her, leaving a trail of kisses up her body as he went. When he reached her mouth he paused and took her in. Kath looked different below him. Fragile, but not breakable. He took her mouth once again, this time bringing his knee between her legs as he did. Kath moaned into the kiss as Sam’s body contacted the place where she was most sensitive. Her body had a mind of its own. She ground her hips against Sam’s thigh. Sam felt his chest seize as she did. He kissed her deeply, then began making his way back down her neck, sucking on the sensitive points. He knew he would leave marks in the morning but right now he did not care. 

Kath was making the most beautiful breathy noises Sam had ever heard. He’d give anything to get her to continue making them. Shirts went flying and Sam’s mouth travelled back down the way he came and eventually, he slid off the bed onto his knees. Kath propped herself onto her elbows to get a better angle of him. Her breath caught in her throat when Sam took hold of her hips and dragged her toward the end of the bed. She let out a small yelp. Sam chuckled. 

“What are you doing?” Kath asked for the second time that night. It occurred to her then that they had no idea when Dean might come back. Sam’s hands ran the length of her legs and the thought left her mind. All of her thoughts, actually. Sam slowly began to unbutton Kath’s jeans. Her heartbeat doubled. As if he could sense it, and maybe he could, Sam stopped. 

“Is this okay?” He looked up at her with his puppy dog eyes. She smiled down at him. 

“Yeah,” she breathed. Sam continued to unbutton her pants, taking an excruciatingly long time. Kath fought the urge to whine at him to hurry up. Once Sam had undone the final button, he tugged at the hem of her jeans. 

“Lift.” It wasn’t a question. Kath lifted her hips and to her surprise Sam pulled her pants and underwear off all at once, leaving her completely exposed to him. The sight of Kath’s naked body made Sam’s mouth water. He stayed motionless by the edge of the bed for some time, just taking her in. She was beautiful. Kath felt herself grow a little embarrassed just laying like a pig on a platter. She sat up and scooted towards Sam, pulling him closer to her. He nestled between her legs while her arms linked around his neck. She took the opportunity to study his face. Loose brown curls fell around his face, and she was playing with the ones at the nape of his neck. Kath took to examining his face with her hands, tracing his eyebrows down to his nose and over the one freckle on Sam’s cheek. 

“What are you doing,” Sam asked in a mocking tone. He gave her a smile that let her know he was kidding around. 

“Just looking,” Kath shrugged. 

Sam ran his hands up Kath’s sides and over her shoulders. “You nervous?” 

“A little,” Kath said, breaking eye contact. “It’s just been a while.”

“Have you never…?” 

“Not never, just not…everything.” 

Sam’s demeanor changed completely. His hands dropped from Kath’s shoulders and he pulled away from her. 

“Oh my God, we can’t, I can’t be your first time.” Sam stuttered over his words. 

“Sam, I don’t care about that,” Kath said. 

Sam started pacing again. “I mean, how have you never? Not once?” 

“When would I have had the time to check this off my bucket list?” Kath asked. “I’ve been hunting  for half of my life, sex isn’t really on the table.” 

Sam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Kath, who was still naked on the bed. 

“Then how the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” He asked with both hands on his hips. The question caught Kath completely off guard. She started to giggle, which then turned into full belly laughs. Sam let his guard down and laughed with her. When they had both settled down, Kath rose to her feet.

“We don’t have time to care about romances Sammy. The most I’ve ever hoped about my first time is that it’s with someone I trust.” 

“You mean that?” Sam asked after heaving a sigh. 

“Do you think I’d be standing buck-ass naked in front of you if I didn’t?” 

That was an answer enough for Sam. Without another word, he bent down to pick Kath up by her thighs. She yelped as her feet left the ground and she was tossed haphazardly back onto the bed. Another laugh escaped her when she bounced. 

Sam was quick to bring the moment back. He kissed her fiercely, framing her head with one hand and running the other along her bare thigh. With each stroke, he made sure to inch closer and closer to where he wanted to touch Kath the most. He could feel her growing impatient below him and relished in the power. Kath stopped kissing him and finally let out the whine she had been holding in.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked innocently. Kath only frowned in response. Sam gave her thigh a tight squeeze which caused Kath’s breath to hitch. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“Touch me, Sam.” 

Sam needed no further instructions. He gingerly moved the hand on Kath’s thigh to the depths between her legs. He didn’t have to look to know how wet she’d become for him, but God did he want to. Sam quickly positioned the two of them so he was sitting against the headboard and Kath’s back was against his chest. She was almost sweating from the anticipation. She let out the sweetest sounds when Sam’s fingers finally found her. He started off with a gentle circular motion over Kath’s clit. The sensation was sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. Kath sighed and let her head fall back against Sam’s shoulder. Sam brushed the hair out of her face with his free hand. He continued to work Kath into a tizzy and eventually slipped a finger inside. Kath had experienced this before with other men, but those moments did not come close to this. She felt like she was a fire and Sam was the fan that kept her burning. 

Sam coaxed another finger into Kath’s entrance. She moaned excessively as he curled his fingers inside her, brushing them against that sweet spot. 

“You feel that angel?” Sam said into Kath’s ear. 

“Mhm!” That was all Kath could get out. 

“No one’s ever made you feel this good have they?” Sam grinned as Kath shook her head furiously. “And to think that I’m the one who gets to take you, you must be really desperate.” 

Kath’s moans were getting higher and more frequent. Sam felt her core pulsing against his fingers. The tightness in his pants grew. Even in her state of bliss, Kath still had the ability to push her body against Sam’s for the sole purpose of getting him harder. The groan Sam let out was reward enough. In retaliation, Sam continued pumping his fingers in and out and watched Kath get closer to her edge. Just as she was about to fall over it, Sam removed his fingers from her. The loss of sensation left her feeling empty - and entirely unsatisfied. 

“What the hell?” Kath whipped her head back to look at Sam.

“You really thought I wasn’t going to take my time with you?” Sam gloated. He brought the fingers that were just inside Kath up to her mouth, tapping on her lips gently. 

“Open,” Sam commanded. Kath did as she was told and Sam filled her mouth. She took his fingers perfectly. “Atta girl, you see how good you taste? I want a piece of that.” 

Kath’s eyes widened at the thought of Sam being…down there. That was further than she’d ever gone before. 

Sam manhandled Kath into his lap and she straddled him easily. She bent down to kiss him and Sam could taste her on his lips. The desire to have her almost made him dizzy. He pulled away and cupped her face with both hands, looking at her with pleading eyes. 

“Kath please,” he begged. “Please let me taste you.” 

Kath blushed. “Well if you want to that badly,” she said. 

“You have no idea.”

Before she knew it, they were right back where they had started, with Kath lying on the edge of the bed and Sam kneeling before her. The temptation to eat her out for hours was strong, but the urge to make Kath squirm was stronger. Sam began to place small kisses along Kath’s inner thighs while his fingers lazily danced through her folds. She was a whimpering mess. Kath’s hand found Sam’s hair and she started pulling desperately on it so that he would do something. 

“You have no patience, you know that?” 

“Sam, please!” 

“Please what?”

“Touch me!”

“I thought I already am,” Sam smirked. 

“I could touch you here.” He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit. 

“Or maybe I could touch you here.” His finger traced the outline of her entrance. Kath was moaning loud enough to wake the entire motel. 

“Or maybe…I could do this.” 

Kath’s vision went white. Sam pushed two fingers back into her while pressing his mouth to her clit simultaneously. She cried out and her hands flew down to his hair. She was tugging on it as though she needed to for dear life. Sam groaned against her and the vibrations sent a shiver up her spine. Sam matched the pace of his fingers to that of his tongue and brought Kath closer and closer to her edge in waves. 

“Oh my God!” Kath exclaimed. “I think-” 

Her words were cut off by her moans. The final wave finally crashed over Kath and coursed throughout her entire body. Pleasure from her core extended all the way to her fingertips. She was writhing like crazy and Sam had to use his free arm to pin her down. Only once Kath started to come down did Sam take his mouth away from her. 

Kath was panting heavily. Sam used his discarded shirt to wipe Kath off his mouth, although he knew he’d be savouring the taste forever. He gave her a moment to come back to reality and discarded his pants onto the floor. He joined her back on the bed in just his boxers. Sam lay propped on his elbow beside Kath, absently drawing circles across her arm. Kath eventually came to and noticed the state Sam was in. 

“Where did your pants go?” She asked in a very serious tone. 

Sam laughed at her confusion. “We don’t have to keep going,” he said genuinely. 

“Please don’t stop.” 

Sam’s eyes darkened and he leaned down to capture Kath in a kiss. They became a tangle of limbs and tongues and teeth. Sam pressed his hips against Kath’s and she could feel his hardness against her core. The desire that filled Kath’s head was almost unbearable. She began to push her hips upwards against Sam’s. He shuddered above her and buried his head into the crook of her neck. He trailed kisses down it and then he sank his teeth into her shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make Kath’s head swim. 

“I need you,” Sam breathed into her neck. 

“Then take me, idiot,” Kath said back. 

Sam pushed off of her to remove his boxers, his cock springing upwards as he did. Sam got off the bed quietly to dig through his duffle bag. He pulled out a condom and slipped it on effortlessly. Kath shamelessly checked his ass out while he had his back to her. 

He was above average for sure. Kath couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped and she stared at him. Sam chuckled at her and gripped her chin. He moved her head from side to side as if he was deciding on something. 

“Hmmm, no,” he murmured. “We’ll put that pretty mouth of yours to use another time. Tonight I’m going to take you until you’re screaming.”

Kath had no idea how to respond to that so she didn’t. She simply laid back down on the mattress and watched Sam tower over her once more. He kissed her once, then tapped her thigh. 

“Open.” 

Kath gulped, then slowly began to spread her legs apart. Sam sunk in between them. The tip of him was pressed against her entrance and Kath’s heart began to race again. Sam held himself up with one hand and used the other to line himself up with Kath. He kissed her again, this time tenderly. 

“Are you ready?” Kath nodded. “You tell me to stop and I will.” 

Kath nodded again and closed her eyes. She opened them again to the feeling of Sam’s thumb tilting her head up. 

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “I want you to watch.” And with that, he pushed himself into Kath. Her jaw went slack and a gasp slipped past her lips. Sam let out the most beautiful moan Kath had ever heard. The feeling of Sam stretching her out took some getting used to, but Sam gave Kath ample time to adjust. He waited for her signal to start moving. Kath took a few deep breaths and then nodded. 

Sam started off with slow, gentle thrusts. This was Kath’s first time, of course, he wanted her to remember it. But with each movement, Sam’s ability to control himself slipped away. He kissed her feverishly and trailed his free hand down her arm to grip her wrist. He pulled her hand above her head, pinning it there with his own. The gesture made Kath euphoric. She could tell he was beginning to lose his grip. Now it was he who was holding onto her for dear life. 

Kath was nothing if not a nuisance. She knew that if she reached her free hand up into Sam’s hair he’d snap. She knew that if she tugged on the loose curls that hung by the nape of his neck she might need help walking tomorrow. So naturally, she did it anyway. Sam groaned desperately into her shoulder and the grip on her hand tightened. 

“Kath,” Sam warned.  

“Just let go,” Kath assured him. 

“I can’t.,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “I won’t break.” 

Sam tried to hold on for her sake, but eventually his mind cleared. His thrusts became harder and faster as he took her with a force she didn’t know he was capable of. Still, she trusted that he couldn’t hurt her. They moved in sync together, like a choreographed dance. Kath felt the fire begin to grow inside of her. Sam was hitting the right spot over and over and over. When she couldn’t hold on any longer Sam leaned down and placed a kiss below her ear. 

“Come for me, angel.” 

Kath’s body shook underneath Sam as she fell over the edge once more. Pleasure crashed through her and she was close to tears. Sam’s pace didn’t slow, but the strength of his thrusts did. The hand that was once holding her own gently cupped Kath’s cheek. She opened her eyes and found Sam looking into them. His hair fell around his face, framing it perfectly. His skin was flush and he held an expression that Kath couldn’t place. Time around them slowed with what Sam said next. 

“You are so beautiful.” Sam came inside her soon after.

Kath’s heart seized. The euphoric feeling that flooded her brain moments ago was gone. She was not expecting that from Sam. She was used to his snarky remarks, even the names he called her were usually laced with sarcasm. What he said was genuine. It was vulnerable. It was not what she had signed up for. 

Sam pulled out and flopped onto his back next to her. They were both panting, sweaty messes. 

Sam let out a breathy chuckle. “That was something.” 

Kath stayed silent. Sam took it as post-sex brain fog. He got up and headed to the bathroom to clean up, leaving Kath alone with her thoughts. When Sam returned, she quickly stumbled into the bathroom without so much as a look in his direction. 

Kath looked at herself in the mirror. Her bare chest was decorated with purple marks. Her skin was flustered and beats of sweat trickled down her neck. 

What the hell did they just do? 

Kath splashed water from the sink on her face and finished cleaning up. When she left the bathroom the first thing she did was find her discarded clothes. She folded them carefully and put them on one of the motel chairs. Kath pulled her pajamas from her own duffel and pulled them on. Despite the pit in her stomach, she still made a show of bending over to pull the flannel pajama pants on. She could feel Sam’s smirk burning into her back. 

Sam was sitting against the headboard of the bed he and Kath had just christened. That was some of the best sex he’d had in, well in a very long time. He studied Kath carefully as she pulled her pajama bottoms on, making sure to check out the ass she put on display. He flipped the blanket over so she could get into bed next to him. To Sam’s surprise though, Kath made a bee-line for the other bed. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. It seemed to be the question of the night. 

“Going to bed,” Kath responded curtly. 

“Come here then.” Sam patted the spot next to him. 

Kath looked at Sam’s hand, then at him, then at his hand again. She shook her head. 

“No, I’m not sleeping with you,” she said. 

“You just did,” Sam responded with a smile. 

Kath’s expression did not change. “No. We’re not, I’m not…This isn’t going to be a thing. It was just a moment.” 

Sam’s demeanor stiffened. “Oh. Okay.” 

Kath got into her bed and turned away from Sam. At some point during this night Kath had stopped being Kath and started being Sam’s. She hated the feeling that was growing inside her chest. It was just a moment. It had to be just a moment. 

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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

“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

[luimagines]

I really quickly wana say that I absolutely love your writing, its very different and unique. Could you do a scenario of the boys confessing while the reader is seriously injured or upset?

Masterlist

So you all want Link to Confess?

You want it to be filled with tension?

I can do that.

This will once again be split up. This part will include Legend, Four and Time.

Content under the cut.

Legend

“I can’t.” You say. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this with you.”

Legend bite his lip at your words. His hands are clenched into fists at his side and he looks away from you painfully. He doesn’t know why it’s come down to this or how you both even got here to begin with.

You don’t notice. You wipe your eyes harshly with your fist and sniffle loudly. “I don’t want to fight you. I’m not fighting you. I’m done. I’m done.”

You gulp and turn on your heel taking a few steps away before Legend can even get his words out of his mouth.

“No. Wait. Please.” He chokes on them and nothing else leaves his mouth for a solid minute.

You’re waiting for him to continue. 

He knows it. 

He doesn’t know why he can’t get his words out. Out of all the times for his words and his throat close off, this is the last place he wants it to happen.

You don’t look back at him.

He gulps and his hands lifts out to you against his consent. Legend can feel his tear build up behind his eyes. There’s something in his gut that’s telling him to move, to act, because it’s his last chance. If he screws this up then your relationship is beyond repair.

He knows it.

You take a deep breath and he can see you fold over yourself, no doubt crying silently at this whole exchange.

You sniffle loudly again and shake yourself off.

“Link...” You say and he’s never hated the way you say his own name so much. There’s so much pain... resignation... and finality. “I can’t let you keep hurting yourself like this. I can’t. I know you’re doing this for me but I hate it. I care about you too much to see you take hit after hit and for you to act like it’s not a big deal.”

“But-”

“NO!” You yell and your voice cracks with it. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t bare to see how little you care about yourself. How little you think everyone thinks of you. And then when I try to tell you, you just yell at me. Tell me that it’s not my business. Tell me that I underestimate you. Tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about or that I can’t tell you what to do. AND I KNOW I CAN’T. But I... I can’t...I just can’t...”

Legend can feel his tears run down his face and he has to unstick his feet from where he stands to make his way over to you.

You still don’t look back.

“By the stars, you have to hate me with how annoying I’ve been.”

Legend can feel more tears spill at your confession. I don’t hate you, he thinks. I could never hate you. How could anyone hate you?

“And even then I know I’m the last person you want to hear this from and it just makes it worse each time this happens but I....” You heave and it’s painful to hear because it sounds like your fighting for your life. “I’m the only one who says anything and I don’t know why and I don’t care what the group may think but this hurts. This hurts, Link. And I don’t think you care.”

Legend stops behind you, his heart bleeding with every tear he knows you’re shedding. But he still can’t bring himself to make his voice work.

“I have to leave.”

No.

“I can’t be here anymore.”

Please.

“I can’t look at your face and let this happen.”

Don’t leave me.

“Next town over, I’m staying there. I don’t care how far away I’d be from my home. I’ll find my own way back. You lot can keep fighting the darkness without me.”

“Don’t go.” Legend finds his voice again but it’s quiet and he doubts that you even hear him. So he says it again, trying to be louder. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

His hands grips your sleeve but he can’t tell when he got so close to you.

“Don’t say that.” You snap and turn your face away from him, ripping your arm away from him. “Don’t say that like you care.”

“I do care!”

“You don’t!”

“I do!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“But I love you!” Legend shouts and his own intensity scares him for a moment.

You both freeze and a fragile stillness blankets the air.

You finally look at him again and blink. You look miserable and he knows it’s his fault. You try to blink away any remaining tears and bravely face him head on. He’s the one who nearly chickens out and looks away but this is too important. He owes you this much. He has to see this through to the end now.

You bite your lip and whisper. “What did you say?”

“Of course I care.” He chokes on his own spit and he knows that this is the make or break. His final chance to win you over or he’ll risk losing you forever. He can’t afford to let his own words fail him. “I care because I love you. I fight for you because I love you. I take those hits because I love you. I don’t think I can handle a reality where you’re hurt. I’d take every hit for you if I could. If it would just mean that-”

“Well don’t.” You snap. 

Legend’s heart drops to his stomach at your words and he thinks this is it. He’s lost. There’s no coming back from this.

“Stop taking my hits.” You sniffle and rub your eyes again. “God... Link, you’re so stupid.”

“I... I just-” Legend looks away as he loses his nerve.

“I love you too.” You admit and his neck almost cracks with how fast he looks back up at you.

“I love you so much, you stupid idiot.” You laugh. It’s wet and weak but you’re laughing. “If you hate to see me hurt, how much do you think I hate seeing you hurt?”

“It’ll hurt more to see you leave than every hit I’ve ever taken in my life.” Legend blinks away more tears. You’re both ugly crying and nothing about this is pretty but Legend feels just the smallest ray of hope in his heart that maybe you’ll stay and let him love you.

Maybe you’ll love him in return.

It’ll be more than what he’ll ever ask for.

“Don’t go.” He tries again. “Please don’t go.”

“I don’t want to go.” You fall to your knees. Legend is quick to fall with you and he places his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright. “I don’t want to leave this group. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave at all.”

“Then don’t.” Legend’s voice cracks this time instead. “Don’t leave. Stay. Stay with me. Please. I’d do anything.”

“Stop getting hurt idiot. That’s all I’m asking.” You snap and place your hands on his face.

Legend leans into your touch and you wipe away his tears with your thumb. “I don’t think I can make that promise.”

“Then don’t get hurt on my account. Promise me.” You press. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” Legend sighs and picks at his sleeve, tugging it into his palm to wipe away your tears. “I just want you safe so you don’t have to.”

“I’m already traveling with the group. I don’t think that can be helped.” You snort and move closer to him. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

Legend’s heart is absolutely pounding in his chest right now. He’s almost certain that you know it with where your ear is. He wraps his arms around you as well, holding you as tight as he can. “I love you.”

You grin against him. “I love you too.”

Four

Somewhere in the dungeon Four has lost everyone around him.

He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the group is. And he doesn’t know how exactly to get back to you- the group. Back to the group.

“Hello!” He hears you call. “Anyone nearby?! Time! Sky! Four!”

Four’s heart begins pounding and against his better judgment he begins to sprint over to where he heard you call. He so badly wants to see you. To see that you’re ok. That you’re alright.

You’re not ok.

He can see you... but you’re not you.

Kinda, technically- Four’s not actually not sure what he’s looking at right now only that it’s bad.

For one thing, you’re looking at him with a large smile on your face. There’s a bloodied knife in your hand and a whole lot of blood by your feet. Behind you is an open room, with ropes hanging from the ceiling and what looks to be shelves of multiple sharp metal items on top of them.

Four’s heart going from pounding to a full stop. There’s something off about you. There’s a trail of blood going from your forehead down to your chin and multiple dark patches of what can only be more blood on your clothes.

Four says your name as he takes a step back. “What happened to you?”

Why are your eyes completely black?

“Four.” He hears you say and it’s his worse nightmare.

Mostly because your voice doesn’t come from the person in front of him.

The being in front of him take a side step and he can see where you are.

You’re what’s hanging from the ropes, blood pooling underneath you as it weeps around your binds. You look tired and horrible. Four’s heart jump starts into his throat and he’s not sure for a second whether he’s going to cry or vomit.

“Holy Hylia...”

“Four. Run.” You say from your binds. “Get out of here! Find the others! Go- Go on without me! ...I’ll be ok”

He doubts that.

Four reaches for his sword and takes a stance in front of your evil twin. 

“Four don’t.” You try to fight the ropes but you’re too weak. On top of that you’re too high up. Even if you could get out, Four’s afraid the fall might be enough to break your bones. “Don’t do it! It’s too strong for just one person. Go get the others!”

“And leave you behind to this thing?” Four shouts and adjusts his grip on his blade. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes please.” The monster says in your voice. “It’s been so long since I’ve had anybody to play with.”

Before his eyes, Four sees this monster shift downward and wobble in its illusion and soon his own face is staring back at him- eyes just as black as before.

“Show me what you can do.” It’s in his voice now with a sword that looks just like his.

The similarity of the situation is not lost on Four and he hates that it’s come to this.

Four growls and strikes at the alien. It parries without much trouble and grins.

There’s a rage bubbling under his skin as he attacks and blocks and tries his hardest to knock this monster back into the room. He ignores the slick floor. He ignores your cries for him to stop and run. He ignores the thought that you’d were alone when you fought a losing battle. He ignores how he wasn’t there to save you. He ignores how no one was there to save you. He ignores everything except how you’re hurt and how you’re stuck and how you’re crying.

Four can’t seem to get a hit in this beast. It matches him with every beat- every strike- every block and Four’s frustration builds as every second passes with neither side gaining ground.

Four backflips away from a particularly dangerous strike and raises his sword skyward- banking on the fact that this monster wouldn’t have been able to copy the magic within his blade without it’s knowledge and attacks with more energy than before.

Blue, Green and Red attack the monster without mercy, covering where one fails with practiced efficiency.

Vio dances around the battle and begins looking for a way to get you down.

You’ve stopped struggling for a while once fight started and he��s worried that you may have lost too much blood.

Vio takes one look around and finds a gear which connects to the rope. He dashes over to it and begins to painstakingly push and pull to get the system in place to put you on the ground once more.

He looks over to where his brothers are and find that they’ve cornered the beast without any way of it breaking out of their square. He sees it panic- clearly not anticipating their split- nor is it able to replicate it and can see how it’s losing the fight.

Your feet touch the ground and you don’t even have the strength to hold yourself up anymore.

Your head hangs low and your completely limp as he continues to lower you.

Vio gulps and keep lowering the rope until your head has touched the ground as gently as he can manage.

“NOW DIE YOU TWO FACED, SHAPE SHIFTING, PUDDLE OF-” Blue screams from the other side of the room, followed by Green and Red as they finish off whatever vile creature it was.

Vio takes out his knife and begins to cut as many of the ropes as he can to release you. As he’s doing this, he’s calling your name, trying to not give in to impulse and shake you to get a response but the lack of one concerns him greatly.

Red appears by his side not a moment later and begins to pour what looks like a healing potion over you.

Green jumps over you three and spins on his heel on your other side, taking out their last fairy and setting it free over you. 

With the potion and the fairy working on healing what they can, Blue comes up behind all of them and growls. “I can’t believe this.”

“Blue-”

“NO! It’s not-!”

“Four...” You groan and reach your hand out. Green is quick to take it and pull it close to his chest. 

He looks at the others for a moment before swallowing. “I’m here.”

“Link...” You call and take a deep breath. All the colors can hear the amount of effort it take to inhale and how it barely fills your lungs.

“We should merge.” Vio whispers and reaches behind him for his sword.

Green nods and holds it up, waiting for the others to join. Red follows quick without a fuss and Blue joins after a tense moment of studying you. Four is left where Green was placed, sword raised and holding your hand.

His mind is loose and memories from the last fifteen minutes flood through his brain as he tries to stitch it back together.

“Link.” You call again and he leans down placing a chaste kiss on your hand. 

Thinking is very hard right now but he can get enough movement synched up to complete some sort of action to tell you that he’s here.

“You’re ok.” You mumble and grip him ever so slightly. The potion seems to be doing it’s job and the fairy continues to hover over you as it tends to your wounds.

“You’re ok.” Four finds himself saying. “You’re going to ok. Just hang a bit, ok?”

Four realizes a little belatedly that he has no other items to give you that would help. That was his last fairy and there’s no potions left either. Not to mention that it’s still just the two of you and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you to go get help. 

“I am... So tired.” You say and take another breath.

“No. Don’t sleep.” Four whimpers. “Don’t sleep. You won’t wake up.”

“Four... I can’t even open my eyes.” You sigh. “You’ll watch over me, right? And we can wait for the others?”

“Don’t sleep.” He stresses, mind clearing as the panic seeps in. “Talk to me. Say something. How did you even meet that monster? What was it?”

“I don’t know...” Your voice trails away.

Four says your name, tears pooling in his eyes. “You can’t do this to me. I have nothing left to give you. You can’t die here.”

You don’t reply.

Four says your name again with more urgency, tugging your hand and beating it against his chest. “Come on. Say something, anything- please I can’t do anything else!”

You sigh and Four doesn’t see your chest rise again.

“No.” He cries and folds on your chest, pushing the fairy away even as it’s working. “No. You can’t leave me. You can’t leave like this. I never got to tell you. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I should have been faster. I should have tried to find you faster or find anyone. I’m sorry you were alone.”

“Four I’m not dead.” You mumble.

Four shoot up and cradles your face with his free hand, his grip tightening on your own exponentially. For a moment he feels like slapping you for the scare but he’s too relieved to go through with it. “How dare you-”

“I had to gather my strength.” You explain. “I’m really close to sleeping but I think that fairy is keeping me awake.”

He lets a long breath go and folds over you again, placing his head over your heart. Your heart beat is strong and sturdy and Four could cry from the amount of relief that follows. “I thought I lost you there.”

“Did you mean it?” You mumble and weakly put your other hand in his hair. “Did you mean what you said?”

“What?”

“You said you love me.”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m sorry.”

Four stops the incredulous laugh from overcoming his chest but he can’t stop the few tears that leave his eyes. “Are you asking me why I love you? Are you asking me to sing your praises? Because I will. I absolutely will. Don’t doubt me on this.”

“No, I believe you.” You smile and hum in contentment. “I love you too if that means anything.”

“It means everything.” Four chokes on his own breath and holds you close.

“Yay.” You place a kiss on his hair line and nuzzle him where you can. Your strength is slowly returning to you as the potion takes full effect and the fairy finally leaves you alone.

“Link?”

“Yes?

“Thank you. For saving me.”

“Thank you for not dying.” He grins.

“I have to live to give you all my love now. I don’t have the time to die.”

Time

Time was breathing hard as he lifts his shield to block an upcoming shot.

Metal clangs against metal. The brute force knocking him back enough that he has to dig his heels into the stone or else he’ll fall over. 

He grunts and pushes the beast away. He readjusts his sword in his hand and hunker downs further. 

The lizafos in front of him screeches in anger at the lack of damage done to him. Time nearly growls back at the monster in reply.

“Fowl beast.” Time spits instead. “This is where you fall.”

Time raises his arm to strike the creature until he hears you yell in anger.

You’re closer to him than he thought and the lizard sees the subtle eye shift on Time’s face. The lizard sees the opportunity and falls onto its four legs, dashing in your direction. 

Tim’s heart freezes and in a moment of desperation, he throws his sword in the direction of the monster. 

He can see everything slow down for this exact moment.

You strike your own monster down and turn around just in time to see the lizard rise up and unhinge its jaws. Time can see your eyes widen in fear and both of you make the calculation that you’re not going be able to block that attack in time. He sees his sword make contact with the monster right as the top row of teeth latch onto your tunic. The force from the blow sends the monsters careening away from you, the hooked teeth tearing at the fabric of your clothes. Ribbons of red fly from you and Time sprints in your direction.

“Time!” You shout and audibly gulp. He can see how shaken you are from that close call and you’re quick to place your back to his with your weapon out in front of you. “Bloody hell, was that you? I thought I was gonna have to have Legend sew me back together for a hot second. Stars, how hard did you throw that?”

Harder than was probably needed, Time admits in his head, reaching for his giant’s knife as you speak.

“Hard enough. Now focus.” He says.

“Right, right.” You twirl your blade in your hand, readjusting your grip and stance.

Time chances a glance behind him to look over to you. Your forearm is beginning to bleed profusely but your grip is still strong. You’re absolutely covered in dust and dirt alike from head to toe and appear to be sporting some blooming bruises under your chin and above one of your eyes.

Time can feel the frustration build up inside of him as he eyes the enemies down. He doesn’t doubt that he’s advertising his own injuries as he stands tall. He’s also doesn’t know where the rest of the boys are or if they’re handle it better that you both seem to be doing but he’s too focused on this fight in front of him to spend too much time on the thought.

The earlier lizalfos gets up again with Time’s original sword impaled right through it. The tip of the blade is poking out of the armor and it’s disconcerting how easily its still able to move around despite the major damage it should be doing to all its internal organs. From what little he can see, he can see black blood dribble down from his weapon onto the ground in front of him.

It’s infected.

Now he’s really glad he’s joined your side.

“Aces, how many are left?” He hears you ask over your heavy panting. He doesn’t think he’s the one you’re asking but he answers regardless.

“There can’t be that much left.” Time keeps his eye on the lizard, stepping ever so slightly to the side to keep the enemy’s eyes on him instead of you. He’s prepared to use his body as a shield if it meant your safety.

“Time.” You say and he can actually feel you lean against him. “I’m so tired.”

That’s probably the worst thing you could have said to him.

“You have to keep fighting.” He urges. “We’re not done yet.”

Time’s beginning to feel the buds of sheer terror for your well being.

“I know.” You sigh.

The lizard roars in his direction and charges toward you head on.

Time readies himself and times his swing. 

He knocks the lizard away again, cutting deeply into its side and nearly cutting off its arm in the process.

Time can feel you collide against him when another beast crashes into you and spins as fast as he can when you actually fall to the ground. He knocks the lower bokoblin away and reaches down to help you to your feet.

He grabs your shoulder and retracts his hand like he’s been burned.

His hand comes back covered in blood. All of the back of your neck is soaked and your hair is sticking in clumps because of it.

You have a deep head injury and he didn’t even know it.

The others are nowhere near you and there’s still an infected beast nearby with more monsters coming in behind you two.

Time thinks for a minute that this might actually it for him.

You won’t last much longer and Time can’t protect you with this many monsters flooding the area, even less so when there’s an infected one still standing.

You growl and try to hold yourself higher, to keep fighting, to keep going and defend.

He’s emboldened by your strive to go until the end and he focuses on the infected beast.

Time says with your name in the moment of pause, where both sides catch their breath.

“Yeah?” You reply breathlessly. 

“I need you to know something. It’s incredibly important that you know this.” Time grips his sword tight and swallows harshly.

“Now?”

“It’s now or never.”

“Time, you’re scaring me.”

“I love you.” He blurts out as confidently as he thinks he can manage. “I love you so much. On the chance that you make it out of here-” Because you will make it out of here, so help him- if the gods will grant him this one thing- “-I need you to know this. You need to know that I am completely in love with you.”

“Now?! You’re telling me this now?” You shout but he doesn’t turn around to look at you. The lizard is watching him, waiting for him to make a move. You call him again. “Link?”

You sound so quiet and weak. Time doubts that you’ll both actually get out of here.

“Link don’t do this to me. Not now. Not like this.” You sound on the verge of tears.

“Believe me, this not how I wanted this.” He admits and blinks away his own tears at the thought of it.

“Would you have ever told me if it didn’t come to this?” You ask and he goes to answer but the lizard get impatient and strikes first.

Time meets it halfway and blocks its attack. He’s quick to push it off and he belatedly hears you hop into your own fight once more. It’s already sounding difficult.

“Link!” He hears you cry and he nearly breaks down into sobs at how desperate you sound. “Time!”

He can’t go to you.

He can’t disengage.

“Link please!”

“I’m sorry.” He mummers. He knows you can’t hear him but he can’t risk the infected getting close to you.

“OH THANK GOD!” You shout and there’s the sounds of the boys.

Backup has arrived.

The split second in his distraction was what the lizard was waiting for. It strikes Time in his shoulder and he can’t stop the cry of agony that rips through him. It’s enough force that it knocks him onto the ground and to his knees. He picks up his sword and swing upwards slicing the beast through its armor and clicking against his other sword.

Wolfie comes up from the side and is quick to sink his teeth into the gizzard of the lizard, ripping and riding the beast down as it falls over. Time ditches his giant’s knife and jumps onto the beast next to the wolf. He reaches over despite his wound and grips the hilt of the impaled sword. 

In one swift movement he pulls it out and rams it through the head. He keeps stabbing until it is no longer moving. He sees one of the others come next to him and also begin stabbing the monster to hell and back.

He stops after what feels like an eternity and he’s struggling to breath. He wipes at his brow, nods to Wolfie and Sky, now that he sees him and spins on his heel to turn the rest of the group.

Hyrule, Legend and Wild are all crowding around you, each with their own manner of trying to heal your numerous injuries. Time feels relief flood his system and he falls to his knees, not caring if he stains his armor with the black blood that’s pooled beneath him.

He pauses to take his breath and he closes his eyes as the calm descends on the atmosphere.

“Time.” He hears you fight the others after a moment. “Where’s Time? I need to see Time. Where is he?”

“You’re covered in blood. You’re head isn’t even close to being fully healed.” Hyrule scolds.

“I have to yell at Time.” You speak.

“Don’t stand!”

“Where is he?”

“Sit down! We’re almost done!”

“I have to see him!” You cry and Time bites his lip at the desperation in your voice.

“I’m here.” He calls out. “Take care of yourself first. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No.” You reply and somehow make your way closer.

Time forces his eyes open and sits straighter when he sees you wobble your way over determinedly. You fight off anyone who tries to grab you or guide you to him, making your way to him by your own power.

He looks up at you, speechless and so full of hope and concern.

You fall onto your knees next to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

Time hisses slightly and pulls your arm away from his wound. You whine at the notion and readjust yourself to lay against his chest instead, hands by his collar bone instead and your head on his good shoulder. Time instinctually wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight, the weight of the fight lifted from his shoulders and what could have been from the front of his mind.

“Did we miss something?” Wind whispers from the back.

“Let them have this.” Warrior replies.

Relief flutters over his shoulder and the aches around his body. Time glances upwards for a moment to see Wild unleash a fairy and Hyrule on his knees next to the two of you.

You relax even more against him and sigh, stretching your head upwards. Your breath tickles the shell of his ear and Time has to suppress the shudder of pleasure that follows.

“I love you too Link.” You whisper and Time curls over you ever so slightly at your admission. “That was the worst timing in history. Never scare me like that again.”

He nods and you smile against his neck.

Feeling warm and giddy, Time finds himself smiling back and leans his head against yours.

You’re ok.

You’re both ok.

Part 2

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || pretty little thing

note: am I simping for volume 12 cover sukuna once more? ...yes, and am not afraid to admit that. that man can glare at me and i will apologise for gracing him with my unworthy self lmao. but i do enjoy this entire idea of super mean and evil sukuna and his cutesy lover that can do whatever she wants to him and he wouldn’t stop her - not like he wanted to anyway lmao 

pronouns: she/her

warning: mentions of murder and acts of murder as well, and if you squint a little there is mentions of minors, but it doesn’t play a big role in the story

The small group of sorcerers stood before the towering man, trying not to show the fear on their faces as they tried to look at the glowing red eyes head on. Sukuna was seated on his throne, two of his four arms resting on his while another was propping up his cheek; the other tapping his fingers on the plush fabric of his throne. He hated having his time wasted on useless things, and the socerers before him were starting to wear their welcome too thin.

Sighing tiredly, he tilted his head back, a sign that had the sorcerers tensing up. They knew that body language all too well - if they do not tell him what was the purpose of them coming all the way to him temple, and even daring to walk up to his alter will lead him to murdering them all in cold blood. 

He doesn’t care how important they are in the town, or in jujutsu world either - to him, he is the most important. And everyone else is beneath him.

Well, everyone but one person, that is.

As if the Gods took pity on them, the soft sound of delicate footprints came from somewhere beside the group, causing the group to stop their whispers between one another at the sound of soft footsteps. Within seconds a beautiful woman walked out from the shadows and into the main room of the temple, her kimono trailing behind her delicately. The beautiful crafted garment hung on her frame perfectly; not too tight where it left little to the imagination, yet not too loose to hide her beautiful figure underneath it either. It was clearly crafted by a master craftsman, and the fabrics it was made of show how expensive it must have been.

A hana kanzashi was delicately placed on her perfectly styled hair, a streams of flowers hang off the end of the pin, giving the woman a more mysterious look as the sunlight casted a shadow over half of her face. She gave the sorcerers no more than an uninterested glance, trying not to roll her eyes at the sight of the group of mostly men - the same group of elders in her town that were so willing to sacrifice young girls to the man before them in exchange for peace.

She would know - she was one of those sacrifices, after all. However, the difference between her and the others was that instead of being killed after their purpose was done, Sukuna was now wrapped around her finger tightly. She can’t be too proud of it either; she was equally as obsessed with him as he was with her, so the better word to describe it might be mutual pining.

Sukuna will never admit that though, claiming she is just a foolish woman he likes keeping around for food and a warm body. But if she tries to get up and leave, or if he knows people are even thinking about bringing her harm? The world would suffer through Hell like they’ve never seen before.

Speaking of the man - Sukuna’s ruby red eyes watched as the woman made her way towards him, carefully climbing the steps of his alter like it was her own home; a soft pout resting on her lips as she walks closer to him. He didn’t get the usual burst of annoyance when anyone dared to look at him in eyes, or the anger he’d feel of having someone even daring to take one step towards the direction of his throne. Yet all he felt was amusement as he shifted in his seat ever so slightly; watching how the woman just made her way towards him and sat down in his lap like it was her throne.

Which it was after all, and Sukuna will let her indulge herself in such a luxury. He loves to spoil her, letting her do as she pleases

“Yes, my beautiful flower?” He hums softly as the hand that was once tapping his fingers along his seat reached up, stroking the apple of her cheek delicately as he raised an eyebrow at her. At that moment he didn’t care who was in the room - all that mattered was her. And he has a gut feeling he knows why she is currently sporting that cute pout of hers, her arms crossed over her chest adorably. “You’re taking too long. I got cold.” 

Immediately a low chuckle rumble from somewhere in his chest as his other arm wrapped around her protectively, his tattoos a contrast against the unmasked skin of her bare thigh that was revealed by his simple action of pulling her closer. “We can’t have that now, can we?” He cooed ever so softly, something so foreign and so unheard of coming from a cold hearted killer that it scared the already terrified sorcerers even more. A few of them were even shaking at the sight of the woman, who was a mere girl when she was scarified, now perched in the lap of such a fearsome creature like she was a lazy house cat.

How can such a relation be so natural?

“What a pretty little thing she is, isn’t she?” Sukuna suddenly stated loudly, his ruby red eyes now dull and clearly showing his boredom as he turned to address the sorcerers before him once more. The woman from before just smiles softly as she curls up into his warmth, not caring about the others in the room; quietly purring at the feeling of a large hand stroking along her face delicately. An action that might seem hard for a man his size to achieve, yet he still somehow manages to treat her like fine china beneath his fingertips.

“I should thank you for being blind enough not to keep a beauty like this for yourselves, but it’s because of your blindness that landed her in my lap in the first place.” Sukuna continued into the silent room, the hand that was once cradling his cheek waved in the air lazily; a smirk tugging against his tattooed face. “All the ones you sent before as sacrifices were quite sad little things; blubbering and whining so much that I rather send their heads back to you so you can see just how pathetic they really were.” He sighs in annoyance, his face curling a little as he remembered all the past women he had.

Some were pretty, yes - but there was just something about them that just irked him. He didn’t know what it was; maybe it was their constant crying, or how they try to pretend to be head strong and threaten to kill him in his sleep. He just took what he wanted before slicing their head off just as he climaxes; not really caring for their own pleasure. It’s not his problem if they were satisfied or not.

However, when his little flower came, sniffling with tearful eyes at how she had been yanked away from her loving family; yet eyes curiously staring up at the man that she had heard so many stories about. There was just something in him that lets him know that she was the one. That she was the one that is going to scratch that insatiable itch that he has whenever he is sent a new sacrifice from the town that he is currently residing in. And he was right. “Yet, with that being said, that doesn’t mean I am not growing tired of your antics. Speak now before I make you.”

Immediately a few eyes glanced over at the woman in his lap, as if they were silently begging for her to lend them a hand. Yet this actual caused Sukuna to scowl as he looks over at the group, snapping his fingers to drag their attention back to him. “Who gave you the permission to turn your disgusting gazes at her? She can’t help miserable excuses like you lot anyway.” He scowls, his eyes narrowing in anger at how they thought they even worthy enough cast their dirty eyes on her, as if she would extend the olive branch to them after they’ve done.

Before he can do anything rash, the woman decided to step in, gently placing her warm hand against the exposed part of his chest from underneath the kimono he had worn. The feeling of the familiar touch caused him to sigh softly as he leans back into his throne once more, but he glared at them with the same intensity as before, watching them for a moment longer. “You know what? I think I know what to do with you lot. I mean, I hope you didn’t forget - you did make my little flower cry.” 

Just as he finished saying that, he gave them all a sadistic smile before he swiped his hand in the air leisurely. His other arms immediately wrapped around the woman, turning her face away from the scene before them as the sorcerers all started to be sliced up one by one by invisible blades, the sound of wails and body parts flying about as they landed on the ground in bloody heaps. A few. who watched their fellow comrades be sliced up in horror before they tried to run, turning and running towards the entrance as if they can escape their fate. 

They should know better than to try something so foolish.

“The clean up is going to be a pain, you know.” Y/N sighed softly as she looks up at her lover, knowing that he was shielding her from the horrors he had committed. If she was being honest, she had never seemed to fear how easily he dispose of others - whenever he does kill people, it usually leads to a much more wider and bigger picture at the end of the day. What she can’t stand though, is the mess he tends to leave behind. “The maids just cleaned the rugs too.”

“It’s their job, flower.” He just sighs and shifted her so she was straddling his lap leisurely, letting her hands rest against his warm chest as two of his arms wrapped around her waist. One of them rested against her cheek lovingly, letting her lean into his touch once more whilst his other hand went back to cupping his cheek in his hand. “You can still make it less dramatic, no?” She mumbles softly with a soft giggle, to which Sukuna just rolled his eyes at her comment. 

“Why make killing so dull? I enjoy the flare of dramatics, flower.”

With a fond roll of her eyes she just leans forward to press soft kisses along his face, knowing that he will not push her away; not when his arms tighten their own hold on her. “Whatever you say, my King.” She cooed at him quietly, still placing feather-like kisses against his face as he closes his eyes for a moment. Soon he grew bored of them, and with a firm hand on the back of her head, guiding her face down to his. He presses a passionate kiss against her as she smiles, her hands trailing up his chest before they found themselves wrapped around his neck where they belong.

Maybe it was an obsession, or maybe it really is fate - whatever the reason may be, he’s going to make sure that his little flower is safe and content. Even if it means killing an entire army of people at her command, or tearing out his heart for her if she so much so as asks.

He is her slave, and he doesn’t see a reason to fight against his faith.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[timbertumbr]

Perspective (Ninjago Kai X Reader) Requested

Here you are anon! Sorry if it isn't a Ninja you prefer-

Might have some spoilers if you don't know who Misako is. 

DEFINITE spoilers to the end of season 2.

"Your ability is powerful. But to gain people's trust you need to break their perspective about you. Some may see your gift as an ability capable of destruction and chaos which makes them fear you. Others, myself included, may see your gift as a way to help make the world a better place. So, sugar or cream?" This. The very words that convinced you to join the Ninjas side and the very words you desperately hold onto during your lowest moments. 

It's all about perspective. No matter how many times you've helped the Ninja save the city, some people still don't trust you. Kai especially. The hot head and the "looks" of the team according to him. 

He's always been one to jump into action and ask questions later. Always been the type of person to jump to conclusions and hold onto them for dear life. 

While he may be the most skeptical of the group, doesn't mean most of the ninja didn't treat you with the same skepticism as Kai.

The only people that seem to trust you these days are Sensei Wu, Misako, Zane, and Lloyd. 

Speaking of Misako, you were currently helping her with her latest archeological find while the Ninja were on a mission per her instruction.

"Tiny pickaxe," 

"Got it," 

"Fossil brush," 

"Here ya go," 

"Trowel," 

"Ace of spades, you win," Misako chuckled at the lame joke. You peer over her shoulder while she works.

"What do you think it is?" 

"Well, if it's been stuck in the walls of a heavily guarded chamber for thousands of years, it has to either be something valuable, powerful, or both," You hum in acknowledgment before a loud thud echoed the room, making Misako jump and drop the tiny pickaxe. It fell to the floor as the two of you turned to the door to see the Ninja covered in soot and torn clothes.

"YOU! YOU TRICKED US!" Kai yells, storming into the room and pointing an accusing finger towards you.

"Huh?" 

"Don't 'huh' us! You know exactly what you did!" Jay chipped in. Zane looked back and forth at his teammates.

"Perhaps it would be wise to freshen up and rest. A near-death experience can-" 

"NOT NOW ZANE!" Kai yells. Cole grimaces, inhaling sharply through his teeth before backing out of the room. 

"Kai please-" 

"HOW CAN YOU ALL BE SO BLIND?! THEY TRICKED US INTO GOING INTO THAT DEATH TRAP AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?!" Kai cuts Lloyd off, absolutely furious.

"Kai-" 

"No! They PLANNED this! They wanted us to go in blind to get rid of us! They should've never been invited to the team in the first place and stay in their little evil lair! Once a demon, always a demon," The room went completely silent as Lloyd looked at Kai like he was the dumbest person alive.

"I… I'm… going to get some air," You mumbled before swiftly walking past them and onto the deck of the bounty.

"Kai. I get it, you're angry. But that was literally the DUMBEST thing that ever came out of your mouth," Lloyd grumbles.

"Wha-"

"Lloyd is right. Saying someone never changes is inaccurate. Lloyd is a perfect example of this," Zane chips in.

"And Garmadon. Well, he was originally good, then bad, then good again, but the point is he did change. Multiple times!" Jay points out, feeling a tad guilty for snapping at you.

"And Y/N wasn't the one who told us to go there, my mother did," Misako nods.

"He's right. And if I had known how dangerous it was, I wouldn't have sent you. Y/N as well, no matter how much you perceive them as the villain," Kai looked around and realized he was in the wrong and knew what he had to do.

"Fine, I messed up. I'll apologize," Kai grumbles, leaving the room. They then turned their attention to Jay who looked nervous.

"Okay! Fine! I messed up too! I'll go make an apology gift!" He scrambles out of the room while the trio looked at each other proudly.

____________

You leaned on the bounty looking down at Ninjago city. You were contemplating if you should just pack your bags and leave if that's what they want. You didn't even consider joining till Sensei Wu said his piece.

Kai's words were the straw that broke the camel's back. While contemplating, you realized you did very little to help the team. Why did Wu want you again? For your potential?

Nodding to yourself, you turn around to start packing when you see Kai approaching you. You frown upon seeing his conflicted expression.

"Uh… hey?" -_- Really Kai? That's what made you so conflicted. Shaking your head, you begin walking.

"Hey, where are you going?" Kai asks, confused.

"Leaving," You respond curtly, Kai follows you with a raised brow.

"Well, can you at least hear me out?" 

"I don't want to hear it," Kai was taken aback by how cold you were being. You're usually friendly and patient with everyone, even if they are skeptical. Kai's guilt started to swallow him whole, he caused this.

"Please?" It was a feeble attempt, one that was said just above a whisper and so upset that you'd think a child said it. You pause and sigh, turning around to face the hothead, a sign for him to get on with it.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said and I have no excuse for it. It was… out of line..." Kai muttered, looking at his feet.

"Okay," You turn on your heel and continue walking while Kai stares at you in shock. 

"Wait, where are you going?!" Kai asks, confused and a little scared.

"I already told you that I'm leaving, for good," Kai's eyes widened in realization, you were leaving the team.

"WHAT?! No, you can't!" 

"First you want me to leave then you want me to stay, can't you make up your mind FOR ONCE?!" You snapped, turning to face him with tears brimming around your eyes.

"Hey, I said I was sorry, didn't I?!" Kai snaps back.

"An apology doesn't just fix everything! I'm done! I'm done being treated like I just murdered someone every day, no matter what I do to show that I'm not what people think I am! I'm done being defined by my abilities that I didn't even ask for! I'm done…" You couldn't stop the emotions and the tears from flooding, once you started you couldn't stop. You wipe at your eyes in a feeble attempt to stop the tears while Kai stared, his guilt consumed him and then some.

"Y/N," He called out, gaining your attention. He extended a hand, a small flame erupting from his palm and waving wildly, a symbol of both their current emotions.

"'Perspective is everything.' That's what Wu said. Some may see this fire as a cause for pain, destruction, and chaos. But to others it warms a house on a winter's night, it's a signal to let those know you need help. 

It's more than just a little flame. And I should've been seeing you the same way. There are good and bad qualities in every person. I've been obsessing over the bad because of my perspective on you. When I should've been looking at both your good traits and flaws equally. 

You said ‘an apology doesn't fix everything,’ right. Well, then what about a thank you? Thank you for being so patient. Thank you for putting up with this for so long even though you didn't deserve it. Thank you for being strong, brave, and kind. Thank you…" Kai trailed off, looking down at the ground in embarrassment while putting out the fire. You stared at him in amazement.

"Ah, that got… long," He muttered. You snicker and then start laughing.

"Th-That's the most thoughtful thing since I got here… and the smartest," You half-joked, earning a playful glare while he smirked.

"Thank you, Kai," He merely shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah. What are friends for?" You perked up at his words.

"I'm your friend?" 

"Well, now you are. Only if you want to though," You smiled.

"I'd love to be your friend Kai," 

"Aww, maaaaan! How am I gonna top that?!" You and Kai turn to see Jay holding a box while muttering to himself. The two of you burst out laughing. It'll take time to repair/make the bonds of friendship, but with a new friend by your side, you're sure to gain the rest of the team's trust.

[boldlyanxious]

Panic at the Haunted Maze

Part of meet cute Mondays

My masterlist

Marinette couldn't see her group anymore. She didn't think anyone would miss her. She had just signed up to join a random group but she had turned and when she looked back she couldn't see them. All she found was another dead end. She didn't have her own flashlight and her phone died. Her shoes were definitely covered in mud.

Of course it started raining again.

She had done a corn maze in France before but it was nothing like this haunted maze. The path had been hardened and easy to follow when she went with a group from lycée. She remembered it being brighter and full of laughter. Maybe she was looking back with her heart shaped glasses. It was the unplanned moment that Marinette had finally been able to tell Adrien how she felt. Everything else about the night felt happy and fuzzy with the memory of her first kiss. It had been a couple years later that she found out her two previous kisses had been with him.

She definitely didn't remember soft, sticky mud underfoot with cold rain pouring down. Her pants might be as bad off her shoes. It was worse than walking through snow. Which would be happening soon as she could see the icy rain being joined by large, wet snowflakes as the temperature was dropping. That might be scarier than anything she had seen in the maze so far. Mostly it was jump scares but apparently the dead end she was currently in was so obviously the wrong path that no one had bothered to put anything scary there. She really needed to find a way out before she froze.

She pushed herself on and she was fairly certain she had found the main path. There were definitely louder, creepy sounds and some moving light up ahead. She knew that meant there would be a jump scare around the next corner so she took a breath and squared her shoulders to prepare herself. She could see the person moving quickly towards her in the dark. It was a black light moving back and forth, shining on all the floating ghosts. She could see where they were tethered and being blown to look spooky. But then the light illuminated the person. It could have been anything but it was a person in a catsuit, all bright white against the black around him. The large predatory eyes turned to her and the mouth formed an evil grin.

She didn’t even realize that she was screaming but she could hear the piercing sound. She rushed forward and slammed into Chat Blanc in a panic. He fell over and somehow didn’t reach out to grab her. She raced on in a frenzy to get away. She needed to find a place to transform. She could barely form words when she ran into civilians just ahead. They were trying to calm her down but she couldn’t process the English in her panic. One of them didn’t wait for her to process. He wrapped something warm around her and scooped her up. In only seconds he had reached the end of the haunted maze.

---

Jason was surprised when he turned at the sound of crashing in the maze. He hadn’t remembered any of the last scares being particularly scary but something had clearly been knocked over and then a woman ran right into him. She was clearly in distress about something. Taking in her appearance with a too thin jacket, that had probably been fine an hour ago before the rain and now the snow and then the mud halfway to her knees, Jason didn’t wait to find out what had spooked her. He just wanted to help her. He wrapped her in his jacket and carried her to the exit. There were a few tents set up for those who needed a calm place to recover and there was a variety of warm drinks.

Possibly it wasn’t the best thing for him to do with a stranger, but she didn’t seem to be with anyone so he sat back on the cot in the tent and pulled her against his chest after helping her out of the wet jacket. He kept his arms around her, speaking softly or singing in French. The only French songs he knew were Jagged Stone ones but he just sang them much softer like a lullaby and hoped she would forgive him after. It took a bit but when he was trying to remember the words to Jagged’s song about a cartoon superhero Ladybug she seemed to become aware. She filled in his missing words anyway.

She still didn’t seem to fully realize where she was but he passed her a cup of hot cocoa and she started to sip it slowly. She was no longer shaking and her breathing had started to even out. Jason pulled back as soon as she started shifting. He was only trying to get her calm and warm so he didn’t want to overstep any more than he already had. He left his jacket on her as well as the blankets covering her arms and legs before trying to find out more.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

“I’m feeling very embarrassed and a bit confused,” she said.

“I don’t know what you saw but it was clearly enough to take you to something your brain couldn’t escape from,” he explained. “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t people I knew. I doubt they even noticed I was missing.”

"I'm Jason. Can you tell me who you are?"

"Uh, Marinette."

“Okay Marinette, we were not able to find anyone missing a person. There were 3 larger groups that had gotten out around that time.”

“I got lost a while back. I couldn't see and I got stuck in the mud. It started raining and everything was worse.”

“Do you have a way home or anyone who will be near you when you are home?”

“I rode in a van that brought a group of people. I could probably find another one leaving if there are other groups around.”

“I think they are all gone for the night. They are closing up here.”

“Oh no. I guess I could call a cab. My phone died though.”

“I have an idea. I live really close to here. It is not just me. I have brothers and sisters staying over. They wanted to make it an all night thing and keep on with scary movies.”

“I couldn’t do that. You don’t even know me and I definitely am not in the mood for scary movies.”

“I know you are having a rough night. You are cold and alone. I can’t just leave you. So if you want to go home, I will take you. But if you want to stay by the fire with lots of snacks and a pile of blankets, I’m offering,” he smiled. “Actually I’m begging. There are plenty of warm clothes and I’ll put on Pride and the Prejudice. It's the solution to all bad days.”

“You want to watch Pride and the Prejudice?”

“Of course I do. It’s a classic,” he said with a smile.

Jason kept pushing because he could see that she seemed interested. He really didn’t want her to be alone after tonight. He put her in the back of the car with Steph after introducing her to everyone, and he and Dick sat up front. They talked and joked for the few minutes it took until they reached the manor. He sent a message ahead to Alfred so he could have a fire going and heat up drinks for them. When they arrived Marinette was dragged off with Steph to get her clean dry clothes and an offer for a bath. Marinette chose to just clean up as much as possible and get directly into the clothes so she could warm up faster.

---

Jason had not been kidding about the set up. She could see that he had Pride and the Prejudice queued up and a variety of foods set out. He pulled her over and dumped her into a pile of blankets wrapping one around her. Marinette tried to argue with the change in movie line up but Jason assured her that nothing had changed. The scary movies were still going in another room but he was going to watch Pride and the Prejudice anyway and it would be better with her. He sat near her on the couch and pushed play. Steph, Dick and Babs were in there with them but as it got later they left one by one.

Marinette felt so warm and cozy. It reminded her of movie nights with her parents. She didn’t know when she had slipped down into the covers but the credits were rolling now. She must have noticed the music change. She had fallen asleep and she was now leaning on Jason. He seemed to be okay with it. He had leaned back into the couch and had pulled some of the blanket over himself. His breathing was steady while he slept and Marinette found it comforting.

She knew it was odd to be basically cuddling with a stranger but she felt safe. Jason had helped her when she was panicking and he had offered choices with every suggestion. Each choice had always included the option of having one of his sisters there. He was protective but he also realized that he was a large man who could seem intimidating and he countered that with giving her agency to make her own choices

It was probably the drowsiness that had her move back down against him. He moved in his sleep and his arm pulled her close. She was smiling as she slipped back to sleep.

Taglist

@theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo

Maribat

@adrestar | @zynna

@technicallyburninggarden | @iloontjeboontje | @certainmuffinbagelcalzone

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Nie brothers time travel but something goes wrong and they end up in each other bodies. So now they have to defeat WRH, find a way to curb JGY worst tendencies, and hide (and undo) the switch before any cultivator decides they are possesed by evil spirits

“I can’t do this,” Nie Huaisang announced heavily. “I can’t. Nope. Cannot. No way.”

“You apparently found a way to time travel into the past,” his brother pointed out. He was taking this entire thing very calmly – or, rather, like he’d heard a really great joke. It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang had forgotten that his brother had a sense of humor hidden under the rage, especially in the earlier years before Jin Guangyao got at him, but he may have downplayed his memories of how annoying it was to be the target of it. “Your abilities are clearly well beyond what you’ve been leading me to believe.”

“I’m sneaky,” Nie Huaisang explained. “I can scheme and plot and play politics, sometimes, if I have to. But I cannot be a general!”

I cannot be you, he meant. He might currently be inhabiting his long-dead brother’s body – an unfortunate side effect of messing up the time travel array, he suspected, but then again experimental things were often imperfect – while his brother’s spirit had been cast out into his own former self, but he wasn’t his brother.

He could never be.

(But Nie Mingjue was alive, alive and well with bright eyes and that stupid smirk that didn’t fit right on Nie Huaisang’s smaller face except in the ways it sort of did, and that was all Nie Huaisang had ever wanted in his life, other than Jin Guangyao to pay in blood and shame for depriving him of it.)

“Why not?” his brother asked. He leaned back and stretched lazily. Nie Mingjue never did a lazy thing in his whole life, so it was deliberate. He was enjoying this. “We have a battle strategy, already decided; most of the rest of it is on-the-ground tactics, which can be done just as well from behind the lines as at the front of them. There’s a reason that no one ever settled on the best place for a war-leader to be – it comes down to temperament.”

Nie Huaisang threw his hands into the air. “I know that! I was sect leader for nearly two decades, da-ge; I assure you, I’ve heard all the sect’s philosophical musings by now. But I don’t have your temperament – there’s no way someone won’t figure out what’s happened, that we’ve switched, and that’ll be a disaster.”

“Two decades,” Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully, focusing on the entirely wrong part of the conversation.

“A decade and a half to avenge your untimely murder,” that got a flinch out of his brother and his focus back, just as Nie Huaisang had wanted, “and another five to find a way to come back and avert it entirely.”

Nie Huaisang had always been resourceful. Resourceful, and ruthless – sometimes to a degree that scared even him.

When he was younger, it was okay. After all, the only thing he used it for was sneaking treats and spoiling himself, and it didn’t really matter if he was ruthless about stuff like that. And then his brother died – was murdered – and suddenly he knew what it was like to be his brother: a young man suddenly shoved into the role of sect leader, and having to balance everything he now had to be against the overwhelming blistering hatred he bore for and the crippling weight of the vengeance he had sworn against a man who had taken away someone he loved forever for something as pointless and ephemeral as political advantage.

(He had to take a deep breath at the mere thought of it, the family rage spiking under his skin. It was a bit of a surprise, actually, to find that his brother didn’t have more of it - he’d always assumed that his rage was lesser, weaker, the way his golden core was, but no. It turned out their rage was just the same.)

“So what you’re saying,” his brother said, and he was smirking again, oh no, “is that you’re focused, efficient, and unyielding in pursuit of your goals, given the right motivation. That sounds like general material to me.”

“Not if the goal is to make sure no one knows what’s happened,” Nie Huaisang hissed. Had own face always looked so incredibly punchable? “Da-ge, it doesn’t matter what type of general I might be. What matters is that it’s not the same type of general you are – you’re always at the front line, leading the charge. I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” his brother said. “By the time you’re in the middle of a charge, you’re not really thinking tactics anymore. It’s all just fighting, and I know you know all the moves, no matter how much you bitch and moan about having to practice them.”

Nie Huaisang glared, crossing his arms over his chest – his brother’s arms, his brother’s chest, and this was still just too weird. He hadn’t even had time to properly weep and cry and hug his brother the way he’d expected to in the event the time travel array worked; they’d had to jump straight into explanations and strategizing because there was a pretty big battle happening in less than twenty-four hours and they needed to fix this first.

His brother rolled his eyes at him, and for the first time Nie Huaisang realized that his brother was going to have no problem at all pretending to be him – the acting problem here went only one way. “Just let Baxia handle the aggression part, okay? The rest is muscle memory, and I, at least, have done enough to build that in.”

“Letting the saber spirit in like that is dangerous, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang reminded him, eyes narrowed. His brother was also assuming that Baxia would agree to be wielded by anyone other than her beloved master, which was a stretch – she barely even agreed to be sharpened by someone else, resisting violently whenever someone tried. 

Jin Guangyao had died still bearing the scars from his attempt. 

“Well, apparently I get murdered before it becomes an issue, so why worry?” his brother cackled, and Nie Huaisang glared harder. It had no impact whatsoever: Nie Mingjue stood up and stretched again. “You know what, Huaisang, if you’re feeling the need to sit around and pity yourself, you’ve got at least a few incense sticks’ worth of time to do it in before actually doing something becomes necessary – I, on the other hand, am going to do something productive with my time.”

“Like what?”

His brother grinned at him with teeth. “Saber training. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Nie Huaisang picked up a teacup and hurtled it at his beloved big brother’s head. Naturally, Nie Mingjue dodged, effortlessly, and left laughing.

“At least pretend like you’re going to behave!” Nie Huaisang bellowed after him, but his brother just waved at him, and – ugh. This was vengeance for a lifetime of laziness, wasn’t it? Coming to bite him in the ass.

After a few minutes, Nie Huaisang picked up another teacup – they always had dozens of them in the Nie sect, cheaply made in bulk and specifically designed to shatter easily because of the family tendency to throw stuff around and not calm down until something was broken, and better a cheap teacup than an expensive door or table, better something designed not to hurt anyone who happened to get in the way or didn’t know how to duck faster enough – and threw it against the door again.

It shattered beautifully. NIe Huaisang had only rarely been able to get it to do that, and never so effortlessly – the advantage of his brother’s strength.

Strength, and height. Nie Huaisang was tall now.

Okay, self-pity could wait until later. Nie Huaisang was going to go patrol the camp for a little bit and enjoy looking down at all the people.

It was going to be great.

It was, too. Even talking with people wasn’t as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised at that; he had been sect leader for years, so he was accustomed to answering questions and making on-the-fly rearrangements and responding to things with leading questions that made the other person come up with the solution on their own, not to mention saying encouraging things that made people feel better about things. 

He’d had to do a lot of that, being the Head-shaker, and even more afterwards, when he’d shed his disguise like a cicada shedding its skin.

It was easier now than it had ever been before, of course. The Nie sect was still strong, under his brother’s leadership; his disciples didn’t have that discouraged look lurking in the back of their eyes, the shame of being led by the disgraceful Head-shaker. It was easy to brighten someone’s day with a nod in their direction, disciples blooming like roses at the sight of their stern sect leader looking approving, and the questions he received were far more intellectually stimulating than the usual – less about making sure he knew what he was supposed to do and more actual puzzles, things that had really tripped people up.

Nie Huaisang tried at first to keep his answers short, tried to pretend to be more stoic and stand-offish the way the famous Chifeng-zun ought to be, except when he did everyone just smiled at him the way they always had when he’d been the Head-shaker – a little indulgent, a little pitying, a little “well he’s trying his best” – and after a while Nie Huaisang started remembering things he’d long ago forgotten.

Things like how his brother was actually kind of a mess sometimes, emotionally speaking – he was the sort of person who got weepy over dramatic literature – and how he’d never quite gotten the hang of people, how he valued his friends like gold and held grudges way too long and promoted people just because they seemed decent; how he sometimes spent his entire money pouch and more on buying Nie Huaisang stupid trinkets because it seemed to make him happy, even borrowing money from their escort, which would always be doubled over laughing at how their fearsome sect leader couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Like how Nie Huaisang’s sect was his family, aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters, whether born in or adopted or just part of the sect. The good type of family – not always the closest, not always your friends, not always even people you really liked, but still all predisposed to take your side in a fight if it came down to it.

These were the people who supported him and stood behind him – even when he was the Head-shaker.

He’d almost forgotten.

And so, despite himself, Nie Huaisang softened a bit. He stopped trying to respond to everything with a grunt or a huff, started asking about people’s families, making suggestions, telling them they’d done a good job.

“Glad you’re out of your mood,” Nie Yongbiao, who’d been quietly trailing him, finally commented, and Nie Huaisang blinked owlishly at him. “What kicked it off this time? You usually only get that closed-mouth after having to host guests.”

And that was true, wasn’t it? It had been such a long time, and after so much trauma, that Nie Huaisang had forgotten how his brother used to shut down whenever there was a discussion conference or an important meeting – how it took him longer and longer to get better on the other side as the qi deviation drew nearer, his meridians filling with Jin Guangyao’s spiritual poison. By the end, he had barely ever been open and free, barely seemed to remember how to drop his guard and relax, to act like a regular person with a sense of humor again, be the person Nie Huaisang knew his brother to be. 

But that was then, and this was now - war had been good for Nie Mingjue, in a strange way. Here in the camps there was a lessened expectation of etiquette, a great appreciation of strength, and his brother was more free to be himself, straightforward and blunt as the off side of a saber.

(Nie Mingjue had tried so hard to be a good brother to Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang abruptly remembered, but he’d shut down after every visit, worse than ever before. His heart had known the truth, even if he had allowed himself to be convinced by Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang to keep giving Jin Guangyao second chance after second chance. He should never have listened to them.)

“Argument with Huaisang,” he said, a safe answer, and Nie Yongbiao nodded wisely.

“Can you say what it was about?” he asked, rather unexpectedly – Nie Yongbiao wasn’t exactly talkative, and no one ever pried about their family affairs. Catching Nie Huaisang’s surprised look, he shrugged. “He’s obviously very upset.”

“He is?”

“He’s at the training field,” Nie Yongbiao stressed, and Nie Huaisang had to choke down a hysterical laugh. Of course Nie Yongbiao would think that something must have gone horribly wrong to get “Nie Huaisang” to go willingly to train.

Nor was Nie Yongbiao the only one, for that matter: when Nie Huaisang arrived at the training field they’d set up in the middle of the camp, he saw an entire crowd of Nie sect disciples milling around at the edge of the field, bearing a suspicious resemblance to a flock of over-anxious quail.

He reached up to his face, pretending to want to pinch the bridge of his nose but actually to smother a smile, and luckily he had regained control of his features by the time he reached the edge of the small sea of disciples because they immediately all turned to him with relieved expressions, their cries of “Sect Leader! Sect Leader!” ringing in his ears like the coos of his pet birds.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, and immediately received the full story: Nie Huaisang had come to the field looking upset – one person insisted there had been tears in his eyes – and had set himself up against a practice dummy, and he hadn’t stopped whacking at it ever since.

Clearly, the world was ending.

“We had an argument earlier,” Nie Huaisang admitted, and managed, barely, not to laugh at how they all looked at him with disapproving eyes. “I’ll talk with him.”

Approving nods all around, although they didn’t disperse.

“Sect Leader,” one of the older generation said, very hesitantly. “If it’s about – the clan matter – if there’s anything we can do to help –”

Nie Huaisang shook his head, feeling touched. When it really had been him, his brother had kept the specifics of it secret – the tombs, the inevitability, the deterioration he was so avidly trying to put off – until it was too late, and he’d had to learn about it the hard way; it was nice, though, that they apparently all worried so much on his behalf about it.

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “But it’s a different issue.”

Namely, the issue was that the person doing the training wasn’t Nie Huaisang at all, he thought, but when the crowd finally started breaking apart, people going back to their assigned tasks, and he finally managed to make his way to where his brother was, he was surprised to see that his brother really did appear to be upset.

He wasn’t practicing any of his normal training routines, but rather wielding Aituan in the same way a novice woodcutter would wield an axe: repetitive strikes, made wildly and with too much strength, as if hitting the practice dummy was the only thing that could vent his feelings.

“Uh, ‘Huaisang’?” Nie Huaisang asked, worrying his lip as he came closer. “Are you –”

His brother dropped Aituan to the ground – which, hey! Watch it, that was his saber! – and turned, and Nie Huaisang had only a moment to see his glassy eyes before his brother threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

Nie Huaisang automatically responded, wrapping his arms back around and holding Nie Mingjue close – it was nice, he thought, to finally have the reach he’d always felt he should have, big and tall and enveloping in its warm the way his brother had been for him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice low enough not to carry. “Did something happen…?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, but his lips were pressed together to keep them from trembling. Nie Huaisang’s body had always been free with his emotions, much to his annoyance; he’d learned to cultivate it into a disguise, but he hadn’t really liked it. Tears had never been a relief for him the way they’d been for his brother. “No, it’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” Nie Huaisang said firmly, and carted him off back to his tent. Being as worried as he was, he did his best not to be too smug about finally being the one who was strong enough to pick his brother up, rather than the other way around – not that he needed to, what with his brother following docilely along with him – but there was, perhaps, a little bit of smugness. “Okay, we’re back, silencing talismans are back up because we apparently have the nosiest disciples. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing, really…”

“Da-ge.”

“I left you alone,” his brother blurted out, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “For twenty years. Whatever I did, however I got murdered – some moment of carelessness – it doesn’t matter. I failed you.”

Oh, no. No, no, no– 

“No,” he said out loud. “No, da-ge, you were tricked – it wasn’t – it wasn’t your fault.”

“I always said I would hold up the sky for you,” Nie Mingjue said bitterly. “And instead I left you with the same inheritance that I received. I never wanted that for you, Huaisang. Never.”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said helplessly. “Da-ge, you don’t understand. You were trying. You wanted – you were doing everything you could. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t fail me. I was the one who failed you. I’ve always failed you –”

“Never!”

“I’m lazy, I’m selfish, I’m good-for-nothing, a head-shaker –”

“So what?” his brother said, glaring up at him. His eyes were red, but with tears, not qi deviation. “Even if it’s true, which it isn’t, because no head-shaker could have avenged me, could have found a way to come back, could have become the Nie sect leader and kept it for two decades, even if it’s true – so what? As long as you’re safe, I don’t care. As long as you have a way to defend yourself, and you so obviously must have, then nothing else matters. Nothing has ever mattered but your happiness.”

“And yours,” Nie Huaisang shot back. “You have the right to a life too, da-ge! You – you should have had my support. You should have been able to share your burdens, I should have helped you instead of anchored you down –”

“Huaisang –”

Nie Huaisang pulled him in tight again. “It’ll be different, this time,” he promised, his voice rough. “I’m older than you ever go the chance to be, da-ge. This time, I can help you with the things you’re not good at – I can do the politics, the people. We can bear the weight of the sect together.”

He felt a whisper in the back of his mind that was strange and yet familiar, approving. Baxia, he realized. Baxia, approving of him; Baxia, who would let him wield her,   and he sensed her confidence that no one would get past her iron guard, together protecting his brother in both body and soul.

“All right,” his brother said. “Together. You and me – and the others.”

“Others?”

“After so many years, you must know who’s trustworthy,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. Already back to being practical, even if he was wiping his eyes. “If we tell those people, they can help us keep up the impression that I’m you and you’re me for as long as we need it.”

Nie Huaisang was nodding along, because that made sense, only then his brother said the last part and it was like a sunrise had opened up in his head, the way terrible and wonderful ideas always did.

“Da-ge,” he said, tasting the words in his mouth. “Da-ge, how do you like my body?”

His brother blinked up at him. “It’s fine, I guess? You’re actually in pretty decent shape, better than I thought, and your cultivation is – well, you could do a bit more with that, honestly, but it’s not uncomfortable or anything. Why?”

Nie Huaisang smiled. He’d always been remarkably resistant to their family’s cultivation curse, and not only, as he’d pretended to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji all those years ago, because he didn’t practice - it was his temper, or lack thereof, that softened the saber spirit’s effects on him. 

Even if his body’s cultivation increased, he was far enough behind the curve, with his mediocre talent, that it would take decades for him to reach the level that it would be dangerous to him, while his brother’s prodigious talent, coupled with his inheritance of the family temper, made him even more likely to succumb – it was that prediction which had worried him so much that he had sought out treatment even before it had become a serious problem, the same worries that had driven him into Jin Guangyao’s trap.

What do you think? he asked the brand-new whisper in his mind. Aituan would probably bitch and moan about having to actually do things, but he’d secretly enjoy getting a bit more evil-killing in; the question was Baxia. What would she think?

A purr of agreement.

“I was just thinking,” Nie Huaisang said. “Chronologically speaking, I’m older than you are. I ran the sect for years – it might be hard to let go of that habit. How about we just…stay as we are, for now?”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Baxia –”

“I’ll use her in public, and Aituan in private,” Nie Huaisang interrupted. He’d known that would be his brother’s first concern. “And you’ll do the opposite. And when we’re settled enough, we’ll come up with some excuse to switch.”

His brother hesitated. “But…you don’t like doing things. Responsibility. That sort of thing.”

“I got over it,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “Trust me, I have a whole system – I’ll implement it once the Sunshot Campaign is done; you’ll be amazed at how much easier it makes things, and then all the things that are left over are the stuff I actually enjoy. And this way, you could…I…”

He swallowed, and put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. He didn’t want to manipulate his brother into something like this – he didn’t want to manipulate his brother at all. His brother deserved the truth and honesty he had always freely given the world, and so Nie Huaisang could only offer up the unvarnished truth.

“I want to do this for you, da-ge,” he said. “I want you to have the life you should have had. I want you to have hobbies again, to make friends, real friends that will put you first. I want you to have fun with them without thinking of how people might think about it…please, da-ge. I came back here to keep you alive, but I want more than that. I want to see you live.”

“Okay,” his brother said, and he was choking back tears again. “We’ll – we’ll discuss it later, but I’ll think about it. Okay.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said. “Now catch me up on the tactics we’re planning on using in tomorrow’s battle, and I’ll let you know everything I know about what happens in the future…oh, and one more thing.”

“Oh?”

Nie Huaisang’s hand dropped to the table, parallel to Baxia; he could hear her purr in his mind whistling like the rumble of thunder. He smiled.

“Can you tell me where Meng Yao is?”

[lunarflux]

"i felt your arms reach for help, and not a muscle in my body could keep me from holding onto you so tightly"

lee felix x reader

genre — fluff!au

tw: suggested abusive relationship

suggested background music: x

note: i like to put a bit of my life into my writing - i had a dream the other night that i saw my abusive ex and hid behind a member of skz lol

You never usually went out on the weekends. It's always been that way. Maybe once a month, you'd entertain the occasional invite out for dinner and drinks, but it had been a while since you'd gone out so casually with your small group of friends.

Clubs were always dark, and you were never the type to run into the crowd. So there you stood by the bar, watching your friends as you nursed your beverage, the sweat from the glass dripping down to the floor. You wanted so badly to have fun, but this just wasn't your scene anymore.

After the departure of your ex-boyfriend, you realized just how much you missed out on. Your friends no longer waited for you because they'd just expected you to say no. It took over a year to realize your relationship had grown toxic, and no partner should ever keep you from experiencing life. Being in a relationship meant sharing a life - not becoming someone else's.

The need to be alone washed over you, remembering the last argument with your ex over reprioritizing your life. To him, friends came second. You just couldn't live like that anymore.

You're free now - and you still haven't adjusted to that feeling.

Club patrons would stand next to you and try to strike up a conversation, but as cold as ever, you avoided their gaze and sipped from the now watered down beverage, still dripping down your hand.

One in particular didn't try to talk to you. In fact, he stood at the bar much like you did, checking his watch, his phone, whatever he could to seem occupied. He glanced at you every now and then. Through the chaotic lights, he'd catch your eye, and he'd smile.

All you could see were the faint hints of the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

After about the fifth time noticing him check his phone, you leaned over. "Did your date bail on you or something?"

He chuckled. "No. I'm just killing time, so my friends stop bugging me about hanging around their apartment so much."

The conversation died as soon as it started, but you two stayed in place. You'd toast with him to every new glass, and then you'd go back to how you were - standing by the bar, killing time.

"y/n - "

Steadying yourself, you looked past your freckled partner only to find a familiar - unwelcome - face.

Staring your ex in the face for the first time in three months, the only thing you could do was stare. Your legs locked in place, and it felt like this club was just another nightmare.

"What are you doing here -" The familiar stranger took a step towards you.

It was a reflex.

All at once, you dropped your glass and found yourself gripping onto the denim sleeve of your drinking partner.

The blonde looked down at you, noticing the vice grip on his arm. He swore he could feel the tension built up within you as you just stood there, holding onto him like a scared child even though he was nothing but a stranger for the night.

Your view changed, and now you were looking at his back. Your drinking partner stood in front of you, his hand holding yours protectively.

"Can I help you?" He said to your ex who merely examined the sight before him like it couldn't possibly be happening.

"You her boyfriend?" Your ex spat with a matching sneer.

"I said, can I help you."

Trying to maneuver around your shield, he laughed, and it was a cruel sound. "So two years just in the fucking trash, and now you've moved onto this guy?"

You whispered into your protector's sleeve. "Please leave."

"Go - " The still nameless blonde nodded his head towards the crowd. "Before I call security for harassment."

"No need." Your ex took a swig of his drink. "You can have her."

The interaction only lasted a minute, but you swore you couldn't breathe. They never tell you about this kind of aftermath from a bad breakup. You were supposed to feel elated that this villain was out of your life after years of over-controlling behavior and manipulation tactics. This was supposed to be your new life.

Still stuck in place, you followed robotically as your protector pulled you up the stairs and out into the street. It was only then that he let go of your hand to cradle your face, wiping away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

"Are you okay?"

"I -" You let out an uneasy breath. The fresh air almost hurt to inhale. "Yes, I'm fine. I just didn't.... expect to see him so soon."

"What's your name?"

"y/n"

"y/n, my name is Felix. Have you eaten yet?" He took off his hat and placed it on your head, securing it tightly like it was a new shield to keep you safe.

Shaking your head, you let him lead you down the street to the closest night market. It was a little past midnight, but it was still crowded. Bumping into patrons, Felix grabbed your hand again and led you through the crowd.

Stopping in front of a dessert cart, he guided you to stand next to him. "Well?"

"It's fine, I should go."

Felix squeezed your hand. "Come on. It's late. You're clearly shaken up. I don't think anyone should be alone like that."

He was right though it pained you to admit it. Your fun Friday night went from decent to shit in less than five minutes, and now this handsome freckled stranger was the one to try to comfort you.

"I have a thing about sweets." Felix looked up at the selection of ice cream. "Brownies and ice cream - it's like my comfort food."

"Mine, too." You finally noticed how warm his hand was.

He held up two fingers to the part-time worker before letting go of you to grab both of the treats.

"I can pay you back." You took a spoonful of vanilla. "I'm sorry. I think I ruined your night out."

Felix shook his head, clearly enjoying the frozen treat. "You didn't ruin anything. I'm just sorry your night got cut short because of... your ex, right?"

You nodded quietly. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Well, I - "

"I've only known your name for ten minutes, and you've apologized to me twice already." Felix's freckles were much more visible now, and it suited him. He looked kind, and his smile was bright before softening to concern. "Did he make you feel like you had to apologize for everything?"

Poking your spoon around your ice cream, you couldn't find the words. Felix took your silence as a 'yes.'

"That doesn't seem like any way to treat your girlfriend."

"I mean, some of it might have been my fault - "

Felix interrupted your excuses with a spoonful of chocolate. "Stop."

"But I -"

"- am single now. And I am not him." He grinned again. "So just erase everything he made you feel like you needed to do, and just be in the moment with me. Okay?"

"It was just," you tried to find the words. "I don't know. I haven't done this in a really long time, and I know not everyone is like that. But I don't even really know you."

Felix placed his hand on your head, his smile still comforting and genuine. He pulled you close to him. "Well, I guess we're going to have to change that."

**

It was another Friday night, but now these nights were taken up by Felix dropping by your apartment with freshly baked brownies and a new movie.

He never passed the boundaries of holding hands and hugs. It almost made you wonder how you ended up here with this person who was nothing more than a fellow bar patron at some point.

"Can I ask you something?"

Felix was scooping ice cream onto the brownies. He offered you a spoonful, "What's up?"

The words got caught in your throat again. It's only been two months. You hadn't returned to the club since, and you were finally sleeping well again. It was almost like having Felix kept the nightmares away. Simply knowing he was there did more healing than anything else ever did.

You didn't want to ruin it.

"Never mind." You grabbed your bowl and settled in front of the TV.

Felix looked back at you. Lately, it was like you always started out tense in front of him, and he was dying to know why.

An hour into the movie, Felix finally noticed that you weren't paying attention. Your dessert was left half unfinished which was unusual. You just sat there beside him, staring at the floor.

He poked your cheek before reaching over to pause the movie. "What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing."

"y/n, come on." Felix sighed. "What is it? Are you having nightmares again? Did you see him again?"

It shouldn't feel odd, but you didn't expect him to find you so predictable. "No, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Okay, so tell me."

The silence filled the room again.

"Is this something you can't tell me?"

"That's not it, I just don't know how to tell you -"

"Try!" Felix laughed. "I haven't seen you this speechless since the night we met."

Thinking about that night brought so many mixed feelings. It was like seeing the evil witch and meeting your prince charming all at once. After your ex said those things, it was like something just held you back. It just always seemed too soon to say anything - no matter how much you liked Felix, no matter what he did you help you heal and just be happy. If this is what a relationship is supposed to be like, you didn't know how to operate. This was a book on love you'd never dared to read before.

"It's nothing." You said quietly.

Felix almost looked disappointed. He looked down at the floor, shuffling his feet together. "Should I leave?"

"What? No -"

"I just feel like I'm bothering you."

"You're not bothering me!" You grabbed his hand. There it was again, one of the two romantic gestures that wouldn't be pushed any further.

Felix held your hand gently, stroking your thumb with his. "So do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"

You leaned forward, resting your head against his arm so he couldn't see how flustered you were.

"I just don't know when the right time is."

"Meaning?" Felix had every right to be confused.

"How long is long enough to be over someone and move on?" You kept your head down. You didn't want him to see you crumble like this. You felt so weak and tired at the thought of exposing yourself like this.

You and Felix sat in silence for a moment. His grip on your hand was tighter than usual, but his demeanor was difficult to read.

"Is that what's been bothering you? You don't want me to think you've moved on too quickly?"

You nodded against his arm, still hiding your face.

He pulled you up and into his arms again, holding you securely. He smelled like vanilla and musk today. He hid his face in your neck, and you stayed like that. This was the safest you've ever felt, and being here with him finally stopped that awful feeling of not knowing what it was to want to share your mornings with someone. Felix wasn't a burden. He was the sunshine, and his warmth was your safety.

Taking a deep breath, Felix finally sat upright nodding to himself. "Okay, so let's talk."

"Talk away." You almost giggled at the flush on his cheeks.

He brushed the hair away from your face, keeping hands cupped on the sides of your neck.

"There is no time limit for being ready, okay?"

Felix's eyes stayed on yours.

"If you're over him, then you're over him. Fuck that guy, he was awful. And I know you think that with the timing - meeting me that night - it was a burden, wasn't it? Because there was no way you could ever tell if you were ready or if you'd just found a distraction." Felix smiled softly. "Do you trust me?"

You nodded quietly, eyes feeling awfully heavy.

"Well, I trust you. And I trust you know that this burden of never knowing will go away on its own, okay?"

"I just don't want to hurt you." You tried to pull away with no avail.

Felix released another heavy sigh.

He searched for something in your eyes before making his decision.

His kisses were like his hugs - warm and comforting. He was gentle, rubbing the edge of your face with his fingers. The small pitter-patters of his breath against your cheeks tickled.

Felix kissed you sweetly in silence. The moonlight had already set on the apartment, but he just stayed with you in the moment, feeling like if there was ever a time, it was now.

Leaving a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he sat back.

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

[itsclydebitches]

The sandwich party in atlas during Salem's wait is even more stupid if you take into account that Ironwood has declared martial law and was expecting salem to attack as soon as she was there (why isn't everyone in the bunkers). This make the council of atlas look even more dumb (like, they can't notice the big flying whale and it's army of flying demons coming at them ?)

This is why I have trouble taking some criticisms of Ironwood seriously, because the show hasn't done enough the to make these situations understandable, let alone believable. You look at the council and you don't know what kind of power they actually hold, or what they're trying to accomplish that Ironwood might be getting in the way of, or what motivation they might have for, seemingly, doing nothing. You look at the formation of the army — or rather, people who understand military tactics in a way I never will look at those scenes — and wonder what the logic behind this presumably bad setup is. The takeaway of moments like these is never, "Atlas' council is corrupt and fundamentally broken" or "Atlas' army is badly trained, or following foolish orders," just that the writers don't understand how to write situations like these.

Why isn't everyone already in bunkers? The answer to that should tell us something about the characters. When critics talk about RWBY needing to show things more, we mean scenes that would explain something like this. Maybe Ironwood refuses to evacuate people for immoral reasons of his own, a result of his downfall. Maybe Sleet tries to circumvent that and that's how he meets his end. Maybe there is an order to evacuate, but no one does, highlighting the elites' head-in-the-clouds perspective where they believe nothing bad could ever happen to them. They don't run until the grimm are straight up invading the park — when it's too late. But there's nothing, so half the fandom is leaning into headcanons and the other half is leaning into the fact that the writers' scenarios are badly constructed. Is Sleet's anger actually a look into some glaring flaw of his (can't understand why there might be martial law with a giant whale floating outside), or is him shouting just an excuse to have Ironwood shoot someone? Does Ironwood not have Watts turn the heat back on because he's clearly an evil man who couldn't care less about Mantle, or did our writers just forget/not care that this was an option? A good story is going to infer most possibilities, as well as the audience's expectations, and at least give a nod towards the biggest contenders. How did Penny land in the Schnee backyard? Give us a line about her waking up and trying to fly back to her friends. Why doesn't Winter care that Ironwood murdered a guy right in front of her? Move Ironwood's creepy threats up half a volume and establish that she is, currently, too scared to get away. What is going on with the council and why/why aren't they influencing this emergency? Give us a couple more scenes across Volumes 7 and 8 to iron that out.

And the thing is, you end up working backwards. If someone goes, "But, Clyde, the council isn't important enough. We can't waste time on them when there are so many main characters to juggle." Then get rid of the council if you're not going to properly incorporate them into the story. "But, Clyde, a Kingdom like Atlas can't not have a governing body." Then make Ironwood the sole guy in charge. That would be a dictator story if this one guy had control over everything with no checks and balances. Fixing these smaller problems and moments of confusion inevitably helps to tell the story RT wanted to write, but didn't because of all these contradictory, ambiguous implications.

[just2bubbly]

Perfect Now

Masterlist

TLC Ship Week 2021!

*written for tlcshipweek2021- kaider for prompt 'Song Day AU'

@kaiderforever

Summary:

He keeps the crown on her head making sure to not disturb her intricate yet beautiful braid.

"Now you, My Queen are perfectly ready!"

...

Last minute panicked thoughts can make a person desperate for escape, a mildly insecure Cinder looks for comfort in her boyfriend- one who is having a trip down his memory lane.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2k

Genre: Hurt- Comfort, Trip down a memory lane

Prompt: 'Song Day AU'

Song: Perfect Now by Louis Tomlinson

__

*Post Winter

A/N: Some mild changes are made in the song lyrics to meet the Cinder's characters.

Bold Letters are Song Lyrics

Italics are memories

Plain words are present

Kai's Perspective:

You say to me your jeans don't fit You don't feel pretty and it's hard to miss

"Kai, I don't think this is a good idea- like I feel we should just stay inside..."

"Cinder, you do seem to realize that you are the one hosting the party?" he asked only to receive a nod for confirmation as she examined herself in the mirror.

"I don't think you can ditch your own party, one which has so many international leaders in it at least."

"Can't you just go and tell them I'm sick or something like that?" she lamented.

Now, this took him by surprise, Cinder had put hours and minutes to make the State Dinner cum Lunar Ball a success and seeing how she wanted to last-minute ditch it was strange.

"Hey, everything okay?" he questioned, standing behind her.

"Yeah," she said, offering him a short smile, "Just stressed out to back out last minute."

I wish that you could see my point of view As someone staring back at you

Nudging his head in the crook of her neck, he placed his lips at the base of the collar bone, "Don't worry, you would do good!"

"Easy for you to say- I'm panicking on the inside! This is my first time trying to act like royalty. I'm even wearing a pretty dress hosting a big parade of leaders like the Queen of Luna. I just don't want anyone to think I'm the incompetent Queen who has no idea of what ruling a country is- I really don't want to come out as a fool to anyone," she rambled.

"Cinder, look at me," he asked and stared into her eyes, "You will do fantastic and not come out as an ignorant ruler to anyone. I will be there to help you through it remember?"

"I don't think asking you how to use the cutlery at the dinner table is the best thing to do to make an impression," she sassed him.

"Now that depends on the person sitting near you- you won't want Queen Camilla seeing you be unroyal enough to not know how to hold your spoon now would you?" he retorted.

"Well, I'm worried about that too," she admitted, clearly going back to the same topic from which Kai was trying to drive her away.

Sighing he asked, "Is this because of what happened the day before yesterday?"

Reluctantly she nodded her head, her reflection seen in the mirror before them.

"C'mon no one cares even in the slightest if you hugged me before all the masses of people and journalists, I have heard we are quite trending in today's news-"

"Kai, you are not helping!"

"Maybe you could go for a kiss next time," he suggested.

"Ha, as if I would, after what happened?!" she exclaimed.

"Who cares about what Camilla and Andrea think anyways?"

Cinder had made a nice fuss in her own mind trying to regret her decision of bear-hugging Kai before everyone, which on his part he was delighted about. And maybe Queen Camilla and Prime Minister Andrea had been a bit too loud about speaking of Cinder's rash actions.

"Hmm.. yeah. Obviously, I do," she said, clearly not paying attention to her words.

"Did you sleep yesterday?" he asked.

"A little bit," she hesitantly admitted.

"How long?" he demanded.

"A few hours maybe-" he shot her a glare which did its work as she answered,"- two hours."

"Stars above, if not for this ball. I would have put you to bed."

"What's the hurry, Kai?" she asked, making the tips of his ears flush light pink.

"Okay- okay. I think you are fine now that you want to flirt with me!" he affirmed.

She smirked and moved around to face him, setting her hands on his shoulders and laughed, "Scared of me, are you, Emperor?"

He pulled her closer, holding her in a warm embrace and whispered, "Aren't you wickedly evil, Your Majesty?"

He leaned in closer, capturing her lips with his own, tasting the red lipstick she had put. Before they could initiate anything more intimate, there was a knock on the door followed by Iko's voice, "You two should really come out before someone makes the right assumptions about what you are doing in there!"

Now this made both of them flush with embarrassment as they gave flustered looks towards the door anticipating the arrival of Iko inside. She never came saving them both from a lot of discomforts.

"Well, I think we should get going?" he questioned.

"Yeah, I think I need a moment," she replied.

"Then I would-"

She cut off his words, asking," Would you please stay here?"

"Uh- Sure, Cinder," he replied.

"Thank You, Kai." She said looking relieved.

He decided to sit on the armchair till she picked herself up to look like a regal Queen. With silence for his only companion, his mind wandered around, thinking about the person standing a few feet away from him.

One Friday night when we're all out I turn to you and you're looking down And you don't wanna dance I know you love to dance You never stop given half the chance

"He looked at her only to find her avoiding his gaze. Staying back he asked, "Hey, what happened?"

"Uh- nothing!" she lied terribly.

"Cinder are you going to really make me believe that?"

"I don't know but just buy that lie," she pleaded.

"You don't want to get your hands dirty?"

"I don't feel like myself right now."

Surprised he incredulously asked, "You, a mechanic doesn't want to go under a podship and get your hands dirty?"

"No," she muttered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just seem stranger than usual self."

"Trust me, Kai, I don't want to become dirty before my first diplomat meeting as the Queen while another mechanic is already present there," she insisted.

"Fine then.""

Just keep your head up, love, keep your head up Don't hide away, don't ever change

"Kai, do you think I should get a Garan's device too?"

"Well, I don't think you need to have that device. Like irrespective of what people tell you and what you try to convince yourself- you are a Lunar. The Lunar gift is surely fabulous- like don't get me wrong but you can feel someone's bio-electricity, it's sorta a blessing in disguise unless you decide to use it for the wrong purposes- I know you won't do that. Practically, I think it might help in Earth-Lunar political relations if you have the device but it does not really make much of a difference. Winter has it yet stupid leaders think she is manipulating them with her beauty. I think you should not install it- the gift is a part of you. Being Lunar- It is what you are! Don't change it because some angry citizen calls you a Lunar witch. You are what you are and I love you for that!"

"Kai if I would have been there I would have kissed you senseless!"

"Good, I don't deserve anything less after making such a sentimental speech," he said, smirking.

Keep your head up love, keep your head up Don't look away, don't look away 'Cause everybody's looking at you now My, oh, my

That time when she had addressed the issues on cyborgs and Lunar- discrimination on Earth. Her eyes were ablaze with passion as she happens to look determined to make a difference. To change the wrong-doings around her, to change the age-old prejudices in the society- to change the future of both her nation and her kind.

"-I believe that together we can make a difference. I hope the sufferings of people in the society decline and look forward to the situations changing for cyborgs, Lunars and Earthens. I look forward to a world where we can live together harmoniously. I consider that no one is liable for the nature of misery and treatment that my kind has suffered in the past. I trust we can change the world for every one of us- for the better of my kind."

Even when your tears are falling down Still somehow You're perfect now

""I'm so relieved that I can't cry right now."

"Cinder, I told you it would have been fine and I'm sorry... Besides I care- "

"Kai, they happen to call me names. I did not want to look like a sick crybaby before them who cried just because I was called an 'ugly Lunar slash Cyborg','" she fumed.

Seeing how she needed comfort more than ever, he hugged her, drawing circles on her back- trying to loosen the tension in her shoulders.

"Cinder, even if you were ugly crying right now, you would have been the most beautiful person in the world," he reassured, meaning them.

"You are perfect just the way you are!""

You never do but if you asked me to I'd tell the truth lying next to you 'Cause you're the only one When it's said and done You make me feel like being someone good to you

He wondered if he should tell her how beautiful she was. She was the perfect mixture of strength, compassion and determination. She never fetched compliments, never asked Kai how she looked, if she was pretty. That did not stop Kai from showering her with affections that she had been lost on in her early years.

Even at your worst You steal the scene and it's unrehearsed

"Queen Selene Channary Jannali Blackburn was sighted in the outer sector TC-6 helping a young man of 20 named, Mr. Stiton. He tells that he was facing difficulties when Her Majesty encountered him during her tour to sector LM-14. He states that she helped him fix one of the technical difficulties faced while flying a podship. Her Majesty previously had worked as a mechanic in the city of New Beijing. Sources tell she was the best in town."

Kai wondered who these so-called sources were. Somehow Cinder managed to excel at unexpected works- even when she was not trying, she had everyone's attention.

'Every insecurity as a neon sign as bright as day'

"Kai, I really think I should cover my hand! Just pass me the glo-"

"No! You are not wearing the gloves to cover your hand," he denied, making sure to keep the said pair of gloves away from his girlfriend.

"It's so different, not to mention with the hand being gloveless I feel naked, can't you please give me that glove, please," she begged, with a pout.

"Cinder, I said 'No'. There's no way I'm going to let you wear that. Stars- and Iko wanted you to flaunt your leg!" he exclaimed, dragging his girlfriend out.

How could a person as bold and determined and beautiful as Cinder, ever feel insecure?

If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

Cinder, through her own eyes, was an unworthy soul but if she only knew what she meant to Kai- more than just a lover. Within just a year, she was his everything. She was the one- being with her made him whole, made him feel blissful and lively, like all of sudden his life had found its meaning. She was like the water in a desert, the fire in the cold, the chill in the heat. He would convey the depth of his feelings someday- not today. This was a conversation for another day.

I guess some queens don't need a crown And I know why

She looked too good, even powerful without the Lunar crown and Kai finally understood the meaning of, 'Some Queens don't need crowns.'

Still somehow You're perfect now

He keeps the crown on her head making sure to not disturb her intricate yet beautiful braid.

"Now you, My Queen are perfectly ready!"

__

A/N: Hurt-Comfort Trope or was that too much insecurity!? This I think is the last of my 'insecure' fics.

It was written for 'Song Day AU' using the song 'Perfect Now' by Louis Tomlinson (If you have not listened it by now you better do it right away!)  Just Emperor Kai love in his girlfriend Queen Selene- not going to miss a chance to call her perfect now, is he?

I have short-listed too many songs for this prompt and I'm likely going to try to write for all of them.

Be sure to comment and vote.

I do take requests so if you want you can hit me up (I write for Kaider only.)

Taglist: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @linhcinder686 @shellyseashell @ladyvesuvia @shelbylmkaider @levanariddle @cindersassasin @kaider-is-my-otp (Tell me if you wanna be added/removed)

[scaryscarecrows]

I'd Crawl on Broken Glass to be the One That Laughs Last

Gotham’s gone straight to Hell in a handbasket. Scarecrow’s dead, which is no loss, but Bruce is missing, Arkham blew up for reasons unknown, and the Arkham Knight’s Militia is still in control. Oh, sure, there’s a fair chunk of them in lockup, but they’ve been getting steadily more riled as the days wear on (three days since the Asylum, their boss has to be dead, who’s in charge now?), and the tanks are still running patrols, the bombs are still in the road, and there are checkpoints and watchtowers everywhere.

Jim thinks they’re waiting for something. There’s been no assault, not like he thought there might be. The street thugs and any uncaptured Rogues are still allowed to run wild, though the watchtowers have been spotted taking shots at something big flying around out there. Honestly, they’re even leaving the police alone, for the most part...but they will still shoot at the cars if they get too close. It’s like they’re on babysitting duty or something until the Knight gets back. It’s unsettling.

He’s out doing a little exploration-he doubts they’ve killed Batman, or they’d be gone, but Bruce still isn’t around-when something drops onto the roof of his car. He hits the brakes, tires screeching, and narrowly avoids sliding into a tank crossing the road.

Breathe.

Jim has no time to go for his gun before the driver’s side door gets ripped open by what Jim can only describe as the Hulk. The man outside is only a little smaller than Bane*. There’s a rocket launcher on his back and Jim’s sure he’s not the one that landed on the car, because the car would be a pancake.

He’s proven right a second later when the polar opposite of the giant jumps down. That said, this guy might be tiny, but he moves like he knows half a dozen ways to kill you. The cherry on the disaster sundae? Both of them are wearing army fatigues.

Militia. Shit.

“Boys,” he says, already planning on how to get that rocket launcher from the big one, “don’t be stupid.”

The little one doesn’t say anything. The big one laughs and before Jim can move, he’s been pulled out of the car.

“Boss wants to see ya.”

So they have a boss. Who. Who is it? One of their own? Riddler? Penguin? Goddamn Deathstroke? Who is his new problem?

“No.”

“Sorry.” The man does sound mostly sorry. “Not really askin’. C’mon.”

Jim tries to slam his elbow into the man’s collarbone. He doesn’t even really get to move before the little guy grabs his arm and wrenches it behind his back. Not hard enough to dislocate it, but hard enough to be a warning.

“We don’t want to have to hurt you, Commissioner,” the big man says. “We’re just picking you up.”

“Go to Hell.”

A gun presses against his back. Fine. He’ll go. But he won’t like it.

* * *

He’s disarmed, bundled into an APC, and blindfolded. After way too many sharp turns and double-backs, he’s...somewhere in the underside of the city. He’s thinking over near Drescher.

Wherever it is, he’s pulled out of the APC, taken inside somewhere, and handed off to new hands. When the blindfold comes off, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

The men in charge of him now (and only for now, give him time…) are less...unnerving...than the other two. One is wearing the white uniform of a medic, and the other is having a snack. Cashews? Cashews.

The medic is a man on a mission. Jim doesn’t even manage to get out a, ‘you’ll be sorry’ before the man’s turning on his heel, jaw working furiously, and snapping, “Come on.”

“Where are we going.”

“Boss wants to see you, won’t listen to reason. This way.”

He stalks off and the snacker chuckles.

“Cashew?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” They follow the medic down a crumbling hallway. “They didn’t scare you too much, did they?”

“What’s with the good-cop-bad-cop routine?” he demands. “Is your friend up there gonna come back and threaten to carve my face off?”

The man just laughs.

“Probably, but he does that to everyone.”

“Sometime today!”

Huh.

Jim thinks they might be in the old mall. Scarecrow had been driving that way when something had happened, and, well, if Jim were going to have an evil base of operations, this would be a good one. Lot of ways in and out, nobody ever comes down here anymore-too dangerous-and it’s big, big enough to hold tanks and soldiers and whatever else these boys have. When they round a corner, he sees a familiar logo and decides that yes, that’s where they are. Hm.

They round another corner and end up in the back of the building. Jim’s not sure what this was, but there’s a corridor lined with doors. The medic stops in front of one and turns, hands clasped behind his back.

“Twenty minutes and no more,” he snarls at Jim. “You’re lucky you get that many minutes. You try anything, you might live to regret it. Might. You tire him out, out you go, I don’t care if it’s been two minutes. Don’t touch shit, don’t knock shit down, don’t--”

“I think he’s got the picture,” his other escort soothes. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“Humph. With the amount of work I had to put in to keep his dumb ass alive, I’m entitled to terrorize people.”

“Still.”

“And I’ll tell you something else. You lay a finger, one solitary finger on him, you so much as breathe too hard--”

“There won’t be anything left to bury,” the other man says, smiles with all his teeth. “Here you go, Commissioner.”

“Twenty. Minutes.”

And then he’s shoved into a room with--and good God, how--the Arkham Knight.

The Knight is lying in bed. He looks the worse for wear, but Jim can’t quite muster up pity for him. This...this is his fault. Gotham, Bruce, Barbara…

He swallows down the rage. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because the Knight’s not alone. Jim supposes they wouldn’t just leave him unattended, not with those injuries, but still.

The Knight doesn’t seem to notice Jim. He’s certainly not looking at him. He’s looking at the laptop the other man has. Right now, at this exact second, he looks like a sick kid, wan and tired, eyes fluttering like he’s fighting to stay awake. But he’s not. Robin or not, he’s...the Knight’s not that boy anymore. Robin wouldn’t have done this, any of this. Robin’s dead.

“Sir.” The other man here isn’t wearing a uniform, he’s wearing jeans and a raggedy flannel that hangs open over some sort of band shirt. But his bearing is still that of a soldier’s, and the rifle leaning against the wall by his chair is top-of-the-line. “Gordon’s here.”

“Hrm?”

“Remember? You wanted to see him.” The Knight blinks a few times, heavy and confused, and tries to lever himself up before his companion reaches over to pin his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

More confused silence. Now that he’s moved his head, Jim can see his pupils are blown wide. That’s not a surprise. He’s pretty sure he was in Arkham when it came down, and he hadn’t looked well before that.

Serves him right, he thinks, remembering the cuts on Barbara’s cheeks and chin. Serves the bastard right.

He keeps his mouth shut. The laptop has been closed and set aside, and the rifle is now in its owner’s lap. It’s casual enough, but the threat’s there all the same: you’ll go through me to get to him.

He wonders, a bit, what drives these men. He doesn’t really care, but he wonders a little all the same. Even the ones in the cells have been resolute that ‘the boss’ will get them out, that he’s got everything in hand, just you wait and see.

...in their defense, Jim had thought he had to be dead, and yet here he is. So.

“S’right,” the Knight finally breathes. He sounds terrible, and Jim suddenly matches the purple swelling on his throat to handprints. That scares him. Not out of pity or sympathy, but because what little he’s seen of the man says he can handle himself. Whoever did that… “S’right.”

“You up for it?”

He’d better be. Jim was kidnapped off the street for this.

“Yes.” Good. “Glad to see you’re unharmed.”

No thanks to you, Jim doesn’t snap, resolutely ignores the memory of the Knight holding up his hands and telling Scarecrow, voice painfully earnest, to take him and let Jim and his men and Robin leave in one piece. He settles for a curt nod, can’t quite muster up a, wish I could say the same.

The Knight pulls in a painful-sounding breath and drops his head to the side.

“Bring up the footage for Commissioner Gordon, would you?”

“Yessir.” The laptop returns, balanced delicately over the rifle. Jim doesn’t know if he wants to know what’s going on. “Hang on...give it a sec to load…”

The Knight moves and visibly bites back a wince, but the new angle means that Jim can see the full extent of the bruising on his neck.

“There we go--you okay, boss?”

“Ribs,” he breathes. “They don’t like it when people zipline into them.”

What.

“Need me to call--”

“No.” He swallows hard and beckons Jim closer. “M’fine. Just sore. And stiff.” He clears his throat, grimacing. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount.”

“M’just not used to being still this long--”

“Deal,” his friend says sharply. The Knight just grins, but that annoys the other guy. “Did you miss the flatline bit?”

“Technically?”

“I--never mind.” He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind...okay, all set.”

He turns the laptop around and Jim hesitates before perching on the very edge of the bed. Nothing terrible happens to him.

“This is footage from my helmet. How it kept going after that level of trauma, I’ll never know, but my IT department managed to recover it remotely.”

The footage picks up in a dark area, abandoned sewer network or something, probably, and it’s glitchy and stuttery.

Bruce has been caught on camera before, but not like this. This is...savage, animalistic. He comes out of nowhere, dodging gunfire and seemingly oblivious to the shouts of surprise, and moves in via a flying kick to the camera itself, which goes white and static-y for a second. A few of them come up behind him and suffer backhands and powerful kicks for their troubles, and then Bruce fills up the frame, shoulders positioned like he’s got his arms out and...and...

He looks at the Knight, looks at the bruises around his neck, and looks back at the screen in time to see Bruce going down and being dragged backwards.

“He do this to you?”

The look the man gives him is so reminiscent of the little boy Jim remembers that it makes his head spin. It screams, I know you’re not really that stupid...right?

“Well, I didn’t do it to myself.”

“--okay, sir, I’m just gonna…”

The helmet moves and Jim spots the medic from earlier before it gets set on the ground, facing Bruce. Bruce is chained to a pipe, seemingly unconscious.

“Don’t talk, just nod. Can you breathe okay?”

There’s an obvious cut--they don’t want to share it all, apparently--and then Bruce stirs and starts...giggling. Jim knows that giggle.

“What the hell.”

The Knight shudders and burrows under his blankets.

“It’s complicated. We’re reasonably sure he’s been eliminated, or at the very least contained, but--” A hand moves, presumably indicating himself. “I made it out. He might have, too.”

His friend closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We’ve got teams sweeping Arkham’s grounds to the best of our ability,” he says. “Unfortunately, we are not a rescue team and as such are not fully equipped to handle the more unstable areas. That said, given the police department’s...track record...we would very much prefer that your men stay out of our way until we either find the individual formerly known as the Batman, or definitively confirm his demise. We’re hoping that at the very least, any injuries he may have sustained slowed him down, but we can’t prove that, given the lack of video footage for the incident.”

“It’s our understanding that Batman has, at least for the time being, lost his fight against the effects of J.” The Knight swallows. “Of Joker’s blood. I attempted to contain him--”

“Contain, my ass,” his friend grumbles. The Knight ignores him.

“I attempted to contain him,” he says again, “via...ah…”

“He blew up the goddamn asylum with himself and Batman inside,” comes the sharp interjection. “In case you managed to miss that.”

Jim had not managed to miss that, thank you very much.

“I noticed,” he says dryly. The Knight huffs a painful-sounding laugh and falls silent.

There’s. There’s a lot Jim wants to say. The Knight was Robin, and Joker killed him (and made sure they all knew it, that tape, good God, he’d sent it to everyone and Jim remembers Dove bursting into tears when she tried to tell him), but he’s not dead now, and look at what he’s done.

Much as he’d like to demand answers--or at least bring half of that up--he won’t. He doubts the man with the laptop will react well; now that he really looks, the man’s tense, clearly poised to move if he has to.

Jim can probably take him. He absolutely can’t take the others that will come at the commotion.

There’s a small dinging sound, and silence, and then an urgent, “Sir. Sir.”

“Hrm?”

“We got something.”

The Knight blinks a few times before half-surging up and demanding, “Let’s go, let’s go, then, help me up--”

“Chair or Trent?”

“Neither--”

“Chair or Trent.”

“Chair,” he grumbles after a second. “But I can walk on my own--”

“Yeah, but if the doc sees you, he’ll be mad. Here it is.”

Jim moves, semi-prepared to offer to help but not really wanting to, but they must have a system, because the Knight’s in the chair with a blanket in short order.

“I feel like a cheap Bond villain,” he’s complaining now. “One that rolls down a ramp into an electrified pool or something.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll consider your life choices, sir.”

“They weren’t supposed to come back to haunt me!”

“I know, sir.”

“Christ...what do we have.”

Should he…? Sure, apparently.

What a day. He needs a drink. A good strong one.

“My understanding is it’s better seen than explained, sir. No body, I don’t think.”

“Fantastic...the bastard’ll survive anything.”

Jim privately thinks the same applies to him, but he doesn’t share that thought. He doubts it will go over well.

The computer room isn’t crammed full of people. There’s one guy on the monitors and another one-one of the ones from before, actually, the one with the cashews-lounging in a chair next to him, drinking a Coke.

“What’s going on, you said something turned up--” He doesn’t quite hide a shiver, but when the other people in the room zero in on him, he shakes his head and insists, “M’fine.”

“Boss, I can link this to a laptop if you’re s’posed to be in bed--”

“M’fine. Pull up the footage.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” monitor-guy says, spinning around and wheeling over to make room. “Looks like he got out, same as you.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I joke when it mattered, sir? Here, look. See this?” He makes the screen bigger. “That look familiar to you?”

It certainly looks familiar to Jim. Bruce’s cowl is difficult to mistake, and there it is, crumpled in the rubble. It’s singed, and one of the ears is broken, but it is Bruce’s cowl.

“Damn,” the Knight breathes, and...Jim doesn’t like admitting it, not after tonight, but...he looks so young. A scared little boy, that’s all. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“We don’t even know for sure if he’s out.” The Knight’s friend leans over the chair to get a better look at the monitor. “Maybe he tried getting out and died, we don’t--”

“I made it out,” the Knight says quietly.

There’s a wave of annoyed grumbling that includes at least one, ‘self-sacrificing dumbass’ and a, ‘in spite of your best efforts’. Jim has to wonder about that one. He can’t muster up that much sympathy, but he does wonder.

The Knight just sighs and adjusts his blanket around his shoulders.

“Fair. Anyways, seeing as I found a way out, it’s not unlikely that he’s done the same, barring the. The possibility of an instant death. I suspect we wound up in a pocket, though, so.”

“You didn’t notice anything on your way out?” Jim demands. “Was he right with you?”

“I was--”

“Concussed and bleeding to death,” a new voice snaps. “And in no shape to be walking, let alone note-taking. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“Briefing the--”

“Literally anybody else can do that.” The angry voice belongs to the medic from before. “You don’t seem to understand what ‘flatline’ means, sir, or maybe you’ve just got a death wish, but tough fucking titty, said the kitty, you’re not dying on my watch. Say bye-bye to the commissioner, you’re going back to bed and staying there or on God, I’ll put you in a coma and keep you there until you don’t have so much as a bruise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim expects argument. None of the Robins ever let Batman boss them around to that extent, and he knows damn well that if he’d backtalked his superiors like that, he’d be in, frankly, deep shit. But the Knight just sighs.

“He’s been here long enough, anyway.” Long enough for what? “Keep your men out of our way, Commissioner. No offense, but Batman existed for a reason. You can’t handle him.”

Jim bristles.

“Can’t handle--”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, and straightens up, turns to the man with the cashews. “Call everyone back.” All of a sudden that’s no longer a little boy playing Soldiers. That’s the man that crippled Gotham within hours. “I want everyone off the streets and back at base, now. Do not engage under any circumstances.”

“Yessir.”

“Get into the street cameras,” he continues. “If a rat comes out of a sewer, I want to see it. I want whatever drones we have left out and searching, but leave the car alone. That hasn’t worked so far and I’m not losing more--”

He must breathe wrong, because he suddenly starts coughing, harsh, violent whoops from down in his chest.

“Get him back to bed,” the medic orders once the coughs cease. “Or he’ll be Snow White and believe you me, nobody is getting in here to kiss him awake.”

“Jones--”

“We can handle this, sir. We’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“But--”

“You trained us for this, remember? We’re professionals.”

The Knight falls silent, one hand still pressed against his ribs, and finally melts back into his chair.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Bye, commish.”

He doesn’t recognize the men that take him back. The streets are empty, though, barring the patrolling drones, and they make it back to the GCPD unscathed.

Unfortunately, Jim returns to, quite frankly, a disaster. The officers on duty are tied up, and the militia cells are empty. Not a man left. He’s just freeing Cash when the broadcast screen crackles and the Knight appears on it, face serious.

“I mean it, Commissioner,” he says. “Keep out of the way, or I’ll put you in a cell instead.”

“You--”

“Tell Bullock hey for me, would ya?” He leans forward. “Stay safe.”

Click.

THE END

*I’m figuring Bane is bigger than the Giant Mooks because his boss fight consists of you jumping on him to slash his Venom tubes AND because he can and will run you over, while Giant Mooks of any affiliation are not rideable and don’t run.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Hotel Room: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August, sick of you jumping from location to location trying to escape him, broke into your hotel room to interrogate you about you leaving him months earlier. 

Words: 2952

(First Person) (Both August x Y/N POVs)

**It is August, but in my head August isn’t evil, more just temporarily morally confused, so in this he’s an okay guy.**

Warnings/notes: angst, fluff, internal emotional thoughts (which always make me uncomfortable), mentions of sex. cursing somewhere.

****So the edit directly below was done by @eastwesthomeisbest for this story. I meant to add this to my story ages ago but something reminded me today, and i’m glad it did, because this edit made me so happy that I wanted to share it again. I love it so much! All of the edits made by @eastwesthomeisbest are freakin amazing!****

August POV

I would wait all night in this room if I had to, just to see her face and find the look I am horribly desperate to see in those eyes. The one I hope will reassure me of her feelings.

I want to believe that she can’t fool me; that I am as confident in her love as I seem to be, but she rules me in every way. If at any time, any single moment, anywhere, in front of the entire world, she told me to kneel before her, I would kneel like the begging puppy she doesn’t even know I am.

The silver knob of the door jiggles the slightest and a sudden fear bubbles up inside me that squashes my determined facade like a fly. What if she isn’t alone? What if she has some unworthy idiot she plans to take to her bed?

But no. Thank God.

Once on this side of the door, she closes it quietly behind her as if not to disturb anyone sleeping in the same hall and leans her forehead against the wood. She sighs, and I worry over that sound.

She doesn’t look up when she asks how long I have been in her room. She sighs again, and I worry again. I can feel her exhaustion from 10 feet away. It floats to me, hoping I might let some of the burden seep into me through my every pore just to relieve her. And if it were a physical possibility, I wouldn’t hesitate to take not just some of it, but all, until nothing weighed her down and she could straighten her spine for the first time in a while.

“Not long.” I say, pushing myself upright from my leaned position on the wall beside her.

She lifts her head and graces me with a glance. A tired glance, but something of a gift, nonetheless. “Get out. I’m in no mood.”

I cross my arms because they make my muscles bulge in a way that she could never resist. And I think that if that doesn’t get to her, well, at least it shows her I’m still strong, I’m still determined, despite how being around her always turns my brain to jelly. “I need to talk to you. That’s all I want.”

She would groan if she had the energy. I can tell by the way her lips thin when I say anything. “Then speak if you find it so absolutely necessary but make it quick, will you. And skip the part explaining how you found me again. I’m getting really tired of the whole ‘you’re not good at covering your tracks’ bit.”

I’m pushing her to the brink. She fakes nonchalance, but she’s irritated, at best. She’s the kind of irritated that has the ability to turn into something much worse over time, and I know if a baseball bat were nearby, mustering enough strength to beat me to a bloody pulp would not be as hard for her as I wish; but she has yet to kill me, so I say: “Fine. I am in love with you.”

She scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. My hips. They belong to me. They are for me to touch and grab and love. “So you have said, repeatedly. Is that it?”

“You are in love with me too, and I want you to come home.”

A beautiful, sarcastic chuckle sings in my ears. “Wow.”

“The truth is the truth.”

“I am not in love with you!”

“Yes, you are.”

She rolls her eyes, but all it does is lighten my heart. “You really are insane.”

“You love me. You do now, and you did when you somehow managed to pack up and leave in the middle of the night without me noticing. Which I still can’t figure out. Until that night, you couldn’t so much as shift in the bed beside me without me waking to make sure you were fine and safe.” I shake my head. I had replayed that night in my head too often for any sane man, and still couldn’t understand how she disappeared like a wraith. “But I woke up the next morning with you not next to me, because somehow you had slipped away without a trace.

“Apparently not, seeing as how you keep finding me wherever I go.”

“I told you a long time ago, I would always find you. If anything ever happened, I would protect my woman.”

“I’m not your—”

“I know you don’t want to believe it, because I was a bad guy who did some bad things; a bad guy you heard had done even worse things, unspeakable things, but this feeling is real despite that. Our connection…”

“We have no connection!” She yells before running her hands down her face. She is tired of this, but if I give up now, she will never allow the word ‘love’ to pass my lips in her presence again, if she even chose to speak to me.

“Y/N, I don’t want to be without you. I can’t stand another second without being able to have you, or hold you, or kiss you, or make love--”

“Stop it, August!” She snaps. “You live in fantasies and think just because you say things over and over that they eventually become truth and everyone around you will accept it as such.”

“We are not a fantasy! You and me, we are--”

“We are nothing!”

A quiver echoes around the room.

A crack in her shell.

Tears began to dribble down the soft cheeks I once kissed.

I move but she steps back with every inch I advance until the icy chill of the wall is flush against her back. And I see it: false hatred masking underlying fear in her eyes; a fear she has had since we met, a fear of loving me.

I brace an arm on the wall, my palm flat next to her face as my other moves to her body, down her arm, to the curve of her waist, to the silky soft flesh peeking from under her sweater for me to stroke with my thumb as the rest of my fingers firmly grip her hip. My hip.

“We are everything to each other…and you know it,” I say as I meet her eyes. They glisten, wet and shiny and beautiful in a way I hoped I would never be the cause of. Her teary gaze is unblinking, in utter disbelief that I was touching her again, that she was letting me touch her again.

“Don’t,” is all she whispers; one final plea as I firmly grasp the last brick of the wall she put up to keep me out and throw it away, out of sight where it could never be found again…I hope.

“August…” Another whisper.

“Y/N, I know I scared you and I know you heard a lot of bad things about me, but I would never hurt you, ever. And I’ll step away, I will, I promise I will, if you tell me to.” I never wanted to lie to her, but as the last of those words come out of my mouth, I know that is exactly what they are: A lie. I won’t ever step away.

I inch my head down to hers, my face closer to hers, my lips a hairs width away from hers, praying she won’t shove me away.

“Just tell me to.” I whisper against her lips.

But she doesn’t and so I press my lips to hers, taking her rosy, plump bottom one between my own.

She tastes the same. Too many months without this taste is like coming home after being at war and I savor every single generous second.

Then I feel it. A movement of her lips over mine, a small pressure that forces a moan from my throat, tingling both of our lips. I don’t waste another beat pulling her to me. Remembering this sensation of our bodies molded so perfectly together is intoxicating. I won’t, I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever again.

 Y/N POV

I’m still.

So still.

I can’t move, and I tell myself it is only because he has trapped me; that my anger is strong enough to paralyze me; that he is abusing me, and I just see too much red to focus on that fact. I tell myself that the chill running down my spine is from the wall he has me up against.

He looks at me like he wants me. It’s the way he has always looked at me. Devouring. Begging. Desperate.

He is moving, somehow closer than he already is and my body reacts to him, sensing a familiar stinging heat though his skin has yet to touch mine. I can feel my heart’s uncontrollable excitement and I’m screaming for it to shut up, to stop beating for him, stop humming for him, just stop living if that’s what it takes for him to go away. But it won’t, or can’t, or just doesn’t want to. I have no idea anymore, but I can’t look away from the hand inching its way toward my arm.

If you touch me, I will kill you, I repeat over in my head.

But it, he, moves closer.

If you touch me, I will kill you.

And closer.

If you touch me…

He looks at me, right in the Y/E/C of my eyes and the air is sucked from my lungs.

…I will kill you.

Then he touches me.

His hand rests gently on my shoulder and skims down my arm over the fabric of my too-thin sweater. My waist feels it and my belly flops as he strokes the skin that hasn’t felt his touch in months. It sings for him, my skin. It cries in relief and thanks me for not shoving him away.

Finally, it moans.

I think this must stop, now. Break the contact. Don’t let him control you. You have fought so hard to become the woman you are, a woman who needs no one, and now is not the time to give in to this feeling, but it feels so good and he has only stroked a thumb, a simple thumb, along an insignificant amount of my skin.

I am numb to everything but the fire of his fingertips.

“Don’t.” What a pathetic whisper. A lie.

But his gaze is unwavering.

“August…” I cry his name in my head over and over, but once again, my mouth fails me and it comes out so quietly, so soft.

He tells me he will stop if I tell him to. But his face is so close, his lips are so close. I feel his puffs of breath stroke my skin and it warms me from head to toe.

He whispers something again, but the blood rushing in my ears doesn’t allow me to comprehend. I think I need to pull away.

Not now, my mind screams at me. Don’t be an idiot, it yells.

He kisses me and my brain shuts down. I only feel softness and slight pressure and a moan that tingles my lips, but I can’t tell who it came from.

The taste is the same. His taste is the same. It’s sweet with hints of whiskey he must have had recently and it shoves me back in time, into the body of the woman who let her guard down and was dumb enough to fall in love with a man like him. Then I move my lips, just my lips, and I’m pulled so close to him. I feel his muscles; firm ridges and valleys through his shirt against my stomach and breasts.

It’s too much and not enough.

My hands seem to rise on their own accord and slide to his arms, up to his shoulders; the opposite trail he had touched me with. He groans into our kiss as his arms hold me tighter than I thought possible.

By the time my fingers are resting on the back of his neck, pressing his lips harder to mine in the first greedy act I have taken, he’s hoisted me up. His hands grasp my bottom to secure me and I am forced to remember the last night we had together before I left.

Every feeling I had the last time I was on top of him, sinking down onto him, moving my hips in a way that made us practically weep from pleasure, swallows me whole. I remember the feel of his fingers as he grabbed my backside to keep me firm against him.

Imprints were left that night. Stinging from where he would roughly slap a cheek. Bite marks on my shoulders, my neck, my breasts, that didn’t disappear for days. He made sure to claim me in every way possible again and again.

And now he was back for me, my heart, my soul, my love. And he would not waste a single drop of the flood that was pouring out of me.

I plant my palms on the stubble of his jaw and tilt my head, parting my lips to give us the chance to deepen this kiss, and it allows him to slip his silky, soft tongue in to caress mine.

He turns us and walks to the large bed in the middle of the room, never breaking our kiss, before gently laying me down on the plush comforter and ripping his shirt off over his head.

He really is the same, I think. Everything is exactly the same. Perfect in every single way. Strong shoulders, and thick arms, and toned abs that lead down to a defined V that disappears under the waist of his pants. And he’s looking at me like I brought him back to life, just like he did for me before I ran.

“Come here.” I whisper, reaching out a hand for him to take; reassuring him that I want him, this, everything he has to offer me.

He gives me a tentative look and for once I see the vulnerability that being together can bring out in us. He’d perfected his craft of illusion long ago, but now I sense little of that mask.

August takes my hand in his and I tug lightly. He catches himself from falling completely on top of me and gently lowers his body onto mine in the most delightfully sensual way anyone could.

 August POV

She’s looking at me in a way that’s going to destroy me from the inside out; like I’ve hung the sun that only shines for her, and all I want is to see that look every minute of every day until I’ve memorized it so well I see it in my sleep.

‘Come here,’ she says, and reaches out her delicate hand. Fuck, I remember those hands on my body, and I’m almost not sure I can handle it again. If I have her now, I will need her forever, and it’s terrifying how much I want it.

But I take her hand and let her pull my body on top of hers, and I kiss her because I have to. Because if I don’t, I will lose my damn mind. It’s a horrifying feeling that only her lips can relieve, and I drink in every second that she lets me savor this; that she lets me kiss her top lip and then her bottom; lets me delicately bite one.

And when she moans, dear god, when she moans, my whole body tenses with desire for her. I want to wrap myself around her and run my hands through her silky, Y/H/C waves. I want to tear her sweater off and slip her pants down, until she is bare for me and me only, so I can show her just how in love with her I really am.

I want to feel every inch of her and rediscover every dimple in her flesh, every freckle, and every tiny mole that even she doesn’t know she has. Every scratch, every scar, and that section of stretch marks that I once ran my fingers along before trailing the length of them with kisses, I want only to be for me.

No one else, right? I want to ask her. There’s no other man but me, is there? Please let there be no one else. But she loops her arms around my neck and tugs me closer like she wants me to sink into her so we can just be one, and my mind momentarily flies out the window. Other men or not, from now on she is mine.

Then she pulls away and I’m afraid I’ve suddenly scared her, desperately wracking my brain for what I could’ve done in a matter of seconds. But she takes in a deep breath and her Y/E/C eyes meet mine as my name is lucky enough to be a sigh that passes through her plump lips.

“August…” She says again, and I close my eyes, dipping my forehead down to hers. I inhale and exhale. I would wait a million years for any words she would be willing to give me. “I do love you.”

And I was right.

She is going to destroy me.

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

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @genius2050​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven​ @missjayi​ @agniavateira​ @tumblenewby 

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

come on in, folks, i got some kind of goof ass Beetlejuice/Evil Dead crossover for you to enjoy.

He’s eighteen, and it’s Saturday, which means that he and Lydia are wandering around Manhattan, looking for trouble to get into. Lydia, eleven and ever his little shadow, is standing next to him, as they take a moment, on the busy New York street corner, to sip their boba and think about their next move. They were meant to be watching some horror movie that had looked alright from the previews, but ended up being so stupid, it wasn’t even fun, and the Deetz siblings had found themselves walking out, one hour poorer but a bucket of overly butter saturated movie popcorn richer. “I still can’t believe how bad that was,” Lydia says, again, huffing, because they’d actually paid money to see that stinker, instead of sneaking in, which is their usual habit. “Ya get one big name attached an’ everyone apparently stops givin’ a shit. Musta figured th’ droolin’ masses would eat it up,” he agrees, and he slurps up the last of his tapioca balls, and then proceeds to eat the plastic straw. “Is it too much to ask that characters actually be interesting, and, I don’t know, behave like normal human people?” Lyds bitches, as BJ takes a bite out of his cup, too. She glances up at him, dryly. “I mean, I guess maybe my standards for normality are low, but still.”

He grins at her. “Whatever could you possibly mean, sister dearest?” he puts on a posh, almost transatlantic accent, and she rolls her eyes, and sucks boba up in her straw, then shoots the pearls at him like a pea shooter. He snorts and laughs.

It’s a good day, despite the letdown at the movies. It’s nearly that time of year, just about the start of his seasonal depression, as the sun becomes shy and things go cold and gray. Still, there’s some time left with the sunshine, so he’s drinking it up, savoring it, and it feels good, to stand here with Lyds, and talk about nothing. “Alright, come on, let’s second act it,” he grins, and she perks up. “I think Wicked’s playing!” “Wicked’s always playin’.” “Well, I’m not sitting through Hamilton, it’s a Saturday. I’m not learning if I don’t have to.” “Totally fuckin’ fair. Music Man, maybe?” “Hugh Jackman’s weirdly brick shaped head freaks me out.” “There’s gotta be a show we can sneak into,” BJ frowns, scratching at the scruff of his chin, and then he catches a scent he’s never smelled before, as Lydia puzzles through their remaining options. It’s like death, sort of, but not. Like death warmed over, or death, refried. He takes his sister’s hand, and leads her away from the street corner, following the smell, nose in the air, pupils blown wide, and Lydia laughs. “Great, time to go poke a dead thing. That’s more fun than The Last Four Years, at least.” She’s seen him go like this before, and thinks she knows what to expect.

Neither of them know how to react when they follow the scent down an alleyway and see the violent fight happening in front of them.

Parked at the far end of the alleyway is a car, some 70’s make that he doesn’t know enough about such things to name, and between it, and the Deetz siblings, is an one handed man absolutely going feral on a group of three refried dead smelling zombie… things. “Deadly-vu,” he hears Lydia whisper, as they watch the man perform a scissor kick that sends a zombie head flying. It bounces like a basketball against the brick wall that makes the alleyway, rolls, and lands at the Deetz sibling’s feet. There’s a beat, as they stare at it, and it stares back, before the head on the ground opens its mouth and speaks. “DEMON!” it shrieks, and then it makes the life ending choice to roll at Lydia, teeth bared, and his boot is going through it, crushing through the skull like an overly juicy bug under his heel. He takes a second to wipe the gore from his sole onto the pavement. “Maybe Wicked could be good,” he turns and says to Lydia, who responds by ducking behind him, because the body the head formerly belonged to seems to be stumbling at them, clutching something in it’s boiled and infected and puss covered arms, and it thrusts the thing at BJ, before falling down and collapsing into dust. It’s a book. Some kind of creepy old demon book, from the look of it. He wrinkles his nose in vague disgust, and then takes a sniff. If the zombie things are refried death, this thing is a whole fucking Mexican food buffet of it, and it makes his head spin in a way he’s never felt before. He kind of likes it. He’s about to give the cursed reading material a tentative lick before a boom rings out from in front of them- the one handed man has pulled a sawed off shotgun off his back, and dispatched another corpse thing. There’s one left, and it’s circling the man, who by this point is so blood covered, he looks like he was tricked into being prom queen, or something.

“Is it just me, or do you freaks just keep gettin’ uglier?” the man quips, and the corpse lunges, a stumbling move which earns it the butt of the shotgun to the jaw, which goes flying. The zombie is shot through the gut, and drops, but is a twitching, squirming mess. BJ’s seen enough horror movies to know that thing is getting back up. The stranger has apparently, too. He takes a moment to reload the shotgun, then double taps, blowing clean through the thing’s skull. He blows at the slightly smoking barrels of his sawed off, twirls it, and holsters it, re-slipping it onto his back. It’s a pretty cool move, actually, and the siblings watch in rapt attention. It takes the three remaining people (well, two people, one demon,) in the alley a moment to actually focus on each other, and there’s silence, before the stranger speaks. “Uh,” says the man, covered in blood, and Lydia peaks out from behind BJ, and stares at him, with big eyes. “Kids,” he hears the man mutter. “Great, just what I need, a coupla kids, gettin’ in my way.. Hey, kiddies,” he says, louder, with a smile, which might be really charming when he’s not soaked in rot and blood, but the effect at the moment is not as sincere and friendly as he clearly thinks it is. “Looks like you two little heroes managed to wrangle my book away from those deadites. You wanna do your pal Ash a favor, and hand it over?” He makes a “come here” motion with his stump arm, and then seems to realize that’s not so appealing, because he tucks that appendage behind his back, worried, suddenly, about scaring them. As if a man with a missing hand is the weirdest thing they've seen in the last five minutes.

“What the fuck,” Lydia says, and BJ can’t help but agree with that sentiment. Also, he feels a vague sense of sudden responsibility for this weird old tome. It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing a human should have. Maybe those zombies… deadites? Maybe they were trying to get back what was stolen from them. Though he’s not charitable enough to assume that they’re the good guys in this feud. The stranger, Ash, takes a careful step forward. “It’s alright,” he says, like he’s talking to a wild animal he’s trying to tame, and not a teen and preteen, respectively. “I’m not gonna hurtcha. Just need to get my book back.”

A sudden screeching wind roars down the alleyway, and both living humans react, ducking, as it bellows and swirls around them, kicking up dust and trash and chunks of leftover deadite. “Demon! Aid us!” BJ feels a presence in front of his face, something he can’t see, but a great, ancient something, reaching out to him, demanding, begging, pleading, for him to assist in whatever macabre goal it wants to meet. He responds by sticking his unglamoured tongue out at it. “Ewww, gross. No.”

The thing shrieks again, and makes a beeline for Lydia, which is just about the stupidest thing it could have done, because he drops his glamour fully and snarls, gives the ancient being a psychic push back, and he sends the thing that cannot be seen flying, out of the shady darkness of this alleyway, past what he assumes to be Ash’s car, and out onto the city street, into the sun. It shrieks and moans and curses him. He flips it off, as it dissipates. The vibe in the air, however, tells him it’s not “dead,” just gone.

Ash straightens up and looks at him. BJ’s already slipped his human disguise back on, so the effect is that Ash has just seen what seems to be a slightly too pale and definitely overweight human teen somehow push back an ancient evil, totally unaffected. Now it’s his turn to let out a confused, “What the fuck?”

“Come on, BJ!” Lydia grabs her big brother’s arm and pulls him away, running from the gore and the confused zombie slayer. “Wait, kids-!” Ash rounds the corner, after them, but the Deetz siblings are already gone, disappeared into thin air, flash stepping the span of blocks in the blink of an eye, and they don’t stop until Lydia, sick from the teleportation, gives his hand a squeeze. They appear on a rooftop, confusing and traumatizing some pigeons that had been roosting.

“Wait, why did we run?’ BJ asks, and Lydia looks at him like he’s a moron. “Because that guy was clearly a monster hunter! And kind of really good at it!” she says. He mulls that over, and smiles. “Worried for your big bro?” he bats his eyelashes at her, and she responds by slugging him in the gut, which he reacts the barest amount to. “Last thing I want is to explain to mom and dad how you ended up with a shotgun blast through your skull,” she says, and crosses her arms, before leaning forward, to study the book he’s still holding. “So. What is that?” He grins. “Wanna open it an’ find out?” Read the rest of the first chapter here!

[somethingwritey]

commission: “kids in love” - a zukka fic

hi all! i was commissioned to write a zuko/sokka fic by @kurisu-80. it features a 5+1 style, some hurt/comfort, and lots of zuko pining. we brainstormed the premise of the fic before i began, and it’s here just in time for valentine’s day! 

💖 commission me! visit this post for more commission details!

---

Zuko didn’t know how to feel.

The hardest part was over, presumably, and yet the brand new emotion coursing through his body - no doubt unlocked by the Avatar’s reluctant trust - unsettled him. He wanted a name for it.

After thinking it over, he settled on relief.  

For so long, he’d been consumed by nothing but white-hot anger - and beneath that, searing pain - that relief was hard to recognize. It wasn’t hot. Instead, it ran down his back and legs and arms like water. But… he had to admit, he rather liked it.

“Unpack,” came a voice behind him. Zuko jumped a little; he’d almost forgotten that Sokka was still there in the doorway. “Lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Welcome.

Zuko hadn’t felt welcome in a long time.

He looked up at Sokka to thank him, but paused - suddenly struck by his eyes.

Blue. Water. Cool. Healing. Wonderful.

Zuko suddenly felt the need to study Sokka’s eyes forever, to never tear his gaze away. Sokka let him for a moment, like he understood Zuko’s need. And then the moment passed, with Sokka shaking off whatever had come over him and exiting the room.

Zuko didn’t move, though, staring after him for a while longer. A new heat had begun somewhere in his body, but it wasn’t anger. It was… contained. Almost hungry. He wished he knew what it meant.

Two new emotions in one day had to be some kind of record.

///

Sokka looked… younger when he slept, somehow. Like one of the tired kids they all were instead of a general orchestrating a covert rescue mission into the depths of the Fire Nation’s most heavily guarded prison.  

Zuko watched him for a few moments before training his eyes back on the landscape around them.

Don’t be creepy, he scolded himself. Sokka wasn’t his to look at like that.

Instead, he thought back to what Sokka had said before they left.

“I have to regain my honor.”

Zuko shivered a little at the memory, so similar to his own favored mantra and yet, somehow so different. Zuko’s had been selfish. He’d wanted to save himself; Sokka just wanted to save his father. And Zuko was fairly certain Sokka wouldn’t mind staying behind in the prison forever if it meant ensuring his father’s freedom.

The Water Tribe boy didn’t need to regain any honor; he had more in every bone of his body than Zuko ever would.

Maybe that’s why Zuko was so drawn to him.

///

Oddly enough, the version of Sokka dominating Zuko’s mind that night wasn’t the one splayed out with a rose in his mouth.

Although he was thinking about it. Maybe a little too much.

But the Sokka that he’d been shown after had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed until Zuko thought it might burst.

Vulnerability. Sokka had shown him vulnerability.

He thought about the way Sokka’s voice changed when he talked about his mother’s murder. Beneath the jokes and the sarcasm, Sokka was quietly patching over the part of himself that he’d lost - same as Zuko.

Zuko wished suddenly that he’d told him about losing his mother, too. Maybe the other boy would’ve confided in him further. Maybe it would’ve been Zuko that Sokka would set up candles for by moonlight and looked forward to -

Stop!

That feeling was back. Zuko shook his head and limbs, trying to scare it away. He had to stop this obsession. It was eating away at him, leaving him exposed.

After the war is over, this will end, he told himself. You’re just bored. Nervous. It won’t be like this forever.

By the end of the night, watching Suki sneak away from Sokka’s tent in the early morning light, he’d almost convinced himself that was true.

///

Fire Lord Zuko.

The title still sounded so foreign and unwieldy. Like it didn’t quite belong to him.

“Congratulations, Your Zukoness,” came a voice.

Zuko turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Sokka, how did you get in here? I thought -”

“Eh, Toph is distracting the guards.” Sokka shook his head. “You really should get some better security, I mean. A couple of rocks and -”

“Sokka!”

Sokka smiled, resting his weight on the crutch he was using. Zuko was instinctively aware of the bandages wrapped around his own torso beneath the heavy new robes.

They all bore scars of the recent battle; peace had come at a cost.

“I came to wish you luck in person,” Sokka continued, less joking and more genuine now. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Aren’t you coming to have some tea with Uncle tonight?” Zuko furrowed his brow. Was Sokka leaving? Was this goodbye?

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved his hand. “But everyone is gonna be there. I wanted to tell you in private, I guess.”

In private.

Zuko hoped his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Even after Sokka left to join his father and Katara outside at the reception, he found himself smiling… just a little.

Sokka had that effect on people.

///

Time was a finicky thing, Zuko was realizing.

One moment, they were children, and the next, they… weren’t. Or maybe they’d never been children at all, too burdened with adult worries and fears their whole lives. Most of them had lost people at a young age, forced to grow up far too quickly.

Aang had lost his entire culture.

Zuko had lost his mother.

Katara and Sokka had lost their mother, too. And now their father.

Chief Hakoda had passed peacefully in his sleep, Zuko had been told. Even after the tenuous usurpation attempt by Gilak, Hakoda’s time at the helm of the Southern Water Tribe could hardly be called blemished. His strength and rationality had brought them to new levels of international recognition and power.

He had been one of the most influential chiefs in Water Tribe history.

Zuko hadn’t been able to make it to Hakoda’s memorial - unable to get out of several Fire Nation industrialization meetings - but he had managed to make it to the South to see Sokka become the next Chief.

“You made it,” Sokka said after the short ceremony. “I wasn’t sure you would.” His voice was heavy - lacking its usual bravado.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zuko laid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, walking with him across the frozen landscape - away from everyone else. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

Sokka’s eyes turned glassy, and he looked away - unable to speak.

“He was a good man,” Zuko continued. “And he would be proud of you. I know it.”

Without warning, Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, burying his head in his shoulder. Surprised, Zuko stayed frozen, wishing he could do more to comfort the strongest man he knew.

“You’re going to make a great chief,” he said quietly.

When Sokka lifted his head, his face was inches away from Zuko’s - closer than the two of them had been in a long time. Zuko almost leaned forward, almost cut through the last bit of space between them, but before he could, Sokka was moving away.

“Thanks, Zuko.” He straightened his furs. “I should get back to Katara and our people now. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

And then he was gone.

////

Zuko hadn’t stopped pacing all morning.

He’d sent the letter after an agonizing few days of rewriting, second-guessing and re-thinking.

But he’d finally done it. Finally watched the messenger hawk lift into the sky. And now, all that was left to do was wait.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” a guard said, at last, bowing low as he entered the room. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is here to see you.”

Zuko took a deep breath, straightening his topknot. “Send him in.”

Sokka burst through the doors, trailed by a couple Water Tribesmen. “I got your message,” he called before he’d even reached Zuko’s side of the room. “What’s the big emergency? Where’s the threat?”

Sokka looked strong - a powerful and more confident version of himself. Being the leader of the Southern Water Tribe had been good for him.

Zuko glanced at the entourage Sokka had brought and winced. He needed to speak with him privately.

“Give me a moment alone with your Chief,” he said to the others. Glancing at his own attendants, he waved for them to be dismissed, too. He wanted the throne room to be perfectly and totally empty.

“What’s this about?” Sokka looked around, seemingly unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you. About a partnership between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a partnership?”  

Zuko swallowed hard. “The kind where their Chief and Fire Lord are… together.”

“Okay, okay.” The true meaning of Zuko’s words clearly hadn’t registered with Sokka, who began to tap his chin. “We team up, you’re saying? Form a political alliance? Hold on, hold on - don’t we already kind of have one? Isn’t that what my Dad was trying to -” And then he broke off, eyes narrowing. “Wait, together? Like… as a couple?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that -”

“I didn’t say it! You did!”

Sensing Sokka’s imminent rejection, Zuko tried to save the situation. “I didn’t - look, it’s not like that, I just meant -”

“You made this whole emergency up, didn’t you?” Sokka shook his head. “Just to get me here! That’s -”

Zuko cringed, waiting.  

“Kinda genius,” Sokka finished, nodding. “Somewhat evil. But genius.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Zuko sighed. “I think. It’s confusing. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I had -” His eyes widened for a moment as Sokka’s lips landed on his before they fluttered shut.

When they broke apart, Sokka seemed surprised at his own actions. “Is randomly kissing the Fire Lord grounds for arrest here?”

The idea made Zuko laugh. “Not if the Fire Lord wanted it to happen.”

Sokka grinned, and then paused. “You - you did want it to happen, right?”

“Yeah.” Zuko leaned forward to kiss him again. “For longer than you could possibly imagine.”

Finally, Zuko thought, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He understood what that feeling was now, the one he’d been so confused about that day at the temple and every day after that.

Love.

He loved Sokka, so full of honor and eyes bluer than water.

And he probably always would.

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