#some of the things this man has done in his life seem wild to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bisexualiteaa · 7 months ago

Note

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

3K notes · View notes

ktownshizzle · 3 months ago

Text

Wild & Free | Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Warnings: Mild angst, cursing lol, mentions of sex, pining and lots of it, reader is insecure, couple of idiots truly, covid didn’t happen, one mention of recreational gambling (we're in Vegas!), canon moments I botched for my own use, ginger Yoongi is a warning in and of itself, angry Yoongi, cliches ‘cos meh, possible inaccuracies about Las Vegas - been there once, but details used in the story are just from research. Also, I get that Las Vegas weddings might seem tacky to some. Coming from a background of traditional, elaborate ceremonies, the characters in this story are genuinely surprised by this simpler approach. After all, a wedding is really just about you and your partner, and that’s the essence we’re exploring here. ♡ If you can get on board with that, then let's head to the Tunnel of Love! Viva Las Vegas! 🙂

Word Count: 7.2k (approx. 30 mins.)

Posting date: August 31, 2024

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you.

On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Kim Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Min Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

It's great to finally get some down time with the crew. After such a fast-paced, high production tour, everybody needed to blow off some steam. This Korean BBQ restaurant off the Strip was the perfect venue to get the team together for samgyupsal and drinks. The vibes are, as the kids say, immaculate.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you almost accusingly.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you’re wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

Record scratch.

Did he really just-

Thankfully, you recover.

“Stop playing,” you say, trying to sound casual. But your face probably betrays the internal turmoil happening in your brain. You fear the day will come that he will have caught on to the unshakeable something you have been harboring for the better part of the last decade.

See, there’s always been an unspoken tension between you and Yoongi, something neither of you ever addressed or acted upon. Perhaps, in your younger days, there were moments when you felt your friendship was on the verge of becoming something more. But then he debuted as an idol, and things took off, and you were robbed of time. With his group’s growing popularity and you managing his personal career, the possibility of exploring anything beyond friendship and your work rapport became even more distant.

You feel like a bug under a microscope the way he observes you with a lopsided grin and while you try to hold his gaze, this clown interrupts.

"If y'all done eye-fucking each other, some of us are heading back." A drunk Park Jimin says with a mischievous grin, eyes crinkling like crescents. You could almost throw up.

Your eyes shift back to Yoongi and he just blinks in that blank way he does and bends to collect his bag from under his chair, completely ignoring his bandmate.

‘Fuck you,’ you mouth to Jimin hastily. Just enough time before Yoongi emerges with his backpack and your tote, which he already slung on his own shoulder.

You try to take it from him, but he waves you off.

"We're in bus 2," Jimin sings-songs and walks off, looking every bit the trouble-maker.

Thing is, you made the mistake of confiding in Jimin once, last year. You got drunk after getting dumped by some guy you met on Bumble three dates down, though it really was the sting of learning that Yoongi took one of Psy’s backup dancers out for coffee, even if it was just casual, that pushed you off the edge and into a bar in Hannam Intersection. Coincidentally, Jimin was there with that cute idol from Shinee and some other guys, but he joined you when he saw you looking like shit.

After learning about your long-standing crush (thank God you did not drop the L-bomb), Jimin would occasionally tease you, much to your chagrin. He’s careful not to push things too far, but it’s clear he sees himself as a bit of a cupid. You keep telling him that nothing will come of it, but he just won’t let up.

You are scared for things to change between you and Yoongi, not when everything is just how it’s supposed to be.

Not when you believe in your heart that if anything would have happened, it already should have.

And you would snuff the last embers of the torch that you keep holding out for him if only you knew how.

"Drive-thru weddings?" Yoongi enunciates in English, with the slightest lisp that you have always found so endearing. As your tour bus passes by chapel after wedding chapel, he continues to wonder out loud. "People get married there?"

Namjoon turns his head to look at Yoongi from his seat in front. "Yeah, hyung. They don't even need to get out of their car. It's just like a McDonald's. But they get a marriage license instead of a burger."

“Really? And people do this? Like, randomly?”

“Yeah, some celebrities decided to do it that way, but I assume many people do, too. I mean, look how many we’ve passed already.” Namjoon says with a tiny grin, cheek dimpling.

"Mm." Yoongi hums and you're curious about that faraway look on his face as he stares outside.

“Are you interested?” You joke lamely, instantly regretting opening your mouth. Why do you keep propositioning him? You blame that ‘one for the road’ shot of soju you downed on the way out of the restaurant.

He studies your face, before he replies lowly, so only you can hear, “Are you asking?”

Fuck, he’s bold. He’s also a bit drunk, but everyone knows he can drink anyone under the table. You know this is not the first time he got weirdly flirty with you after one too many drinks, so you take it in stride.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Hoseok's voice booms from the back and with a chorus of laughs ringing inside the vehicle, you take that as a sign that this is definitely just the effect of being in Sin City.

A few beats after and you steal a glance at Yoongi, finding his gaze transfixed at a sign that read: "The Little White Wedding Chapel".

Last day of the Las Vegas tour and while you are glad it is almost done, your heart aches as you remember that this is also your last one, ever. Your 60-day notice is already running, having tendered your resignation a month after LA wrapped up.

As great of a job as it is, your heart seems to always be at odds because of the lingering feelings you have for Yoongi. Everyday, you find yourself trapped in the limbo of unspoken feelings and missed chances. The endless “what ifs” weigh you down, and you can’t summon the courage to confront them. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own, and you hoped that stepping away from this life might jumpstart your next chapter, as BTS is also about to embark on theirs.

With the group taking a break for solo projects and gearing up for their military service, it seemed like the perfect moment for you to explore something different, too. Maybe finally open that cafe you’ve always wanted. Maybe you can also meet somebody, especially since your eomma has been on your back even more lately about giving her a grandchild.

You weren't planning to sever ties with Yoongi entirely, or at all. There’s too much history between you two to just walk away from the friendship. But you were desperate to let go of the emotional baggage.

The thing is, you have not told anyone. Not even Yoongi. Especially not Yoongi. It is highly likely that he will try to stop you and press for reasons, and you can't tell him that you’re in love with him, can you? Just… no. What a fuckin’ cliche.

You don’t know when you will be ready to tell him the truth, but it needs to be soon.

You find him on the side of the stage, eyes locked in on his phone that he held with one hand and you already can tell he is watching a documentary with the way his face is screwed up in concentration. His ‘watching a cat video’ face was infinitely more smiley, that's for sure.

He lifts his sleepy eyes up as you approach, handing you a latte that he apparently picked up for you from that place across the street, because the coffee from the catering ‘tastes like shit.’

Before you can say thanks, Yoongi exclaims, “Omo! Michael Jordan got married there?”

Your confusion must be written all over your face, because he quickly explains, “You know in one of those drive-thru wedding chapels we saw the other night. Wow. I can't believe Jordan did that.”

He pauses the video and turns the screen toward you, revealing a white building decked out with all sorts of decorations reminiscent of Valentine's day. The way he looks at you, expectantly, makes you feel like you should share his excitement, but you're a bit stumped. “Yoongi-ah, why are you watching this?”

He fidgets with a sheepish grin. “Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Korean weddings can be so complicated, you know? Hyung was really frustrated with all the traditions at his wedding.” He shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed but trying to stay casual. “Here, it seems like you just need the right person. And maybe some courage. Okay, a lot of courage. I just— I don’t know, I find it fascinating.”

He nods to himself, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Totally endeared, you hop to sit beside him on the stage, bump your shoulder with his, and say, “Go on, press play.”

The tiniest of frowns that has settled between his brows smoothes out and he angles the screen more towards you before resuming the video.

Turns out it really is fascinating (Omo! Joe Jonas also got married there! But wait, isn't he divorced now?), so you watch a few more clips, before soundcheck starts.

You’ve always known Yoongi to have massive hyperfixations. In fact, you’re not at all surprised when that night during the concert, he even cheekily says to the crowd during his ment, “Welcome to Las Vegas, with the drive-thru wedding.” And of course, the audience eats it up, those wearing Shooky headbands, veils or holding “Yoongi, marry me” signs end up being the loudest.

But while you’ve supported all his previous mini-obsessions (League of Legends, Dalgona coffee, woodworking) until he over-indulged to the point of almost flushing it out of his system, you are not quite sure how else to help him with this one.

Unless of course, you… hah, you wish.

The tour wraps up successfully. The boys have different group and individual schedules before they return to Seoul. For Yoongi, a shoot for his photofolio, and some b-roll content for his upcoming documentary was on deck for him, you, and his crew.

The drive up to the desert was pretty uneventful as mostly everyone was asleep. You arrive sometime in the afternoon and immediately get to work in order to catch the golden hour. Yoongi has disappeared into the makeup trailer and you busy yourself with checking the preps.

The theme was glamping. Though Yoongi would never admit that that was the concept he approved. He would most likely say something more deep and poetic, that the setting is a poignant portrayal of his growth as a person and a metaphorical exploration of his artistry… Or something like that.

Things were running a little later than you like, which always happens when you are doing shoots overseas, so you volunteer to help with the set design. Placing some of the props near the camper van, you take a second to decide whether to use the metal cup or the ceramic mug, when a sleepy voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Set looks great. Good job."

You turn your head to look at Yoongi and wow his hair is orange.

The color of his favorite citrus and of course he looks sexy as fuck. He smells phenomenal, too–like mandarins with a hint of spice. You are in so much trouble. Seems your mouth is filled with cotton the way you are unable to make a sound.

“Yah! I spent hours on this new hair, you're not going to say anything?” he whines with a small pout.

You snicker at his cute expression, reaching out to touch the ends of his hair very lightly else the glam team unnies might scold you. “You look like a cat.”

“Ugh,” he groans, walking away with what you now realize is a stick of marshmallows in his right hand.

“No, Yoongi, it's cute,” You follow him as he stops in front of the bonfire, roasting the marshmallows over it briefly before taking a bite, still not placated by your words.

You decide to put him out of his misery. “You look good. Like really good. ARMY would probably even say sexy.” You inwardly cringe at the last bit–using ARMY to voice out your inner thirst, really?

Nonetheless, Yoongi's reaction is priceless. His lips stretch into a thin line, chin dimpling as he pretends to not enjoy the compliment that he very well fished for.

“Ok quit acting like an emoji and let me take your photos for IG.” You take your phone out and snap a few pics of him posing with the marshmallow, some without it. A couple of him grinning, gummy smiles on display, and you know you need to keep some of these for yourself when the inevitable comes and you won't see his face everyday.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to his side, arm going around your shoulder. A whiff of his musk has you swooning which you hope he does not notice.

Your phone is taken. He snaps a few selfies of you both and tsks when he sees your lock screen.

“Tablo-hyung, still? You know he's literally married and has a kid, right?”

You make a face and snatch your phone from his grasp. “Yah! As if you're not an idol and your face is not the wallpaper of thousands of people.”

“I think you mean millions.”

“Ass.” You try to shove him, but his hand closes in on your phone again.

Swipes and taps later, he seems satisfied and your phone is handed back to you, before he walks off without so much as a goodbye.

What did he do?

Wait.

Tablo is gone.

And the tableau in his place is one of the photos you just took with him. Eyes twinkling, smiles identical. The picture of a seemingly perfect couple.

Oh, damn. You really are a goner.

You send the pic to Jimin a little later. His response was unwelcome.

Jimin: You two have literal heart eyes for each other. So cute.

You: Not helping.

Jimin: Just tell him how you feel.

You: Again, not helping.

Jimin: What's your plan?

You: Do you really wanna know?

You ring him. Might as well tell somebody.

In between layouts, Yoongi films interviews for some magazines. You have complete faith in him and his media relations skills at this point. Smart, thought-provoking Yoongi can wow any interviewer, sometimes to the point where numbers have been slipped inside his coat pocket. Thank God this one is on Zoom, ‘cause you can’t deal with something like that happening right now.

You caught wind of something that he said during the interview and you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Sometimes, it feels like my life is just a sequence of obligations and schedules,” he tells the online reporter. “I can’t even remember the last time I made plans for myself. Being here in Las Vegas is refreshing. It’s like everyone is just living by their own rules. I don’t think I’m like that at all.”

"Do you want to be like that?" The reporter asks.

"Maybe..." he shrugs, sinking a bit lower on the chair he was on.

It was late and the crew was just winding down before packing up the set.

“How was your day?” he asks you with a soft smile. You can see the tiredness in his eyes.

“Not bad,” you say, taking a spot beside him on the picnic blanket that was still on set. He seems pensive.

“Did you ever think we would get this far?” he asks. “Couple of Daegu kids, now running around in America.”

“Who would've thought…” you say, observing him. His eyes were stoic, but you know he's got something else on his mind, something bothering him.

“You said something in your interview earlier.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?”

“Not bad per se, I just never heard you say it in an interview before. About not feeling like you can make your own plans. Like life has become a series of schedules.”

He hums and takes a sip of something from the mug he is holding. Your nose tells you it is definitely not hot cocoa.

“I’ve come to terms with it for the most part, you know,” he sighs looking out into the vastness. “But plans are good. Makes me feel like there is a point to all this.”

You follow his line of vision and sigh. You knew he was feeling a lot of stress lately. His life was not easy. You hate that you have to pile on top of it.

“We need to start planning D-day soon. It's going to be so busy with the album and the tour and all the content we have to make. Oh God, we might have to do fan calls, but I'm so embarrassed when I do it.”

You mimic his hum, getting disoriented with his use of ‘we’. He still doesn't know that word would be null and void soon.

“By the way, we gotta come up with a different name for the Youtube show. I can't pronounce it. Sich? Sush? Shit-”

“Suchwita,” you say, guilt settling in your tummy.

“...and we have that collab with Halsey for what’s that game again? Doom? No, Diablo! We used to play that before, remember? I think we might be doing a music video for that one.”

Just tell him. This would be the best time.

“Look, Yoongi I-”

“Thank you,” he suddenly says, in a tone so soft, and the way he punctuates it with your name makes your heart soar.

Your eyes snap to him, the slight pinks dusting his cheeks make him look like the teenage boy you met in music school.

“I’m not good at this - fuck, this is so awkward - umm but I've really been meaning to tell you that I appreciate you.” He continues, “You're really important to me.”

You try to fight back a smile at how elated you are, but can’t. And maybe he needs to see how happy this is making you. How happy he is making you.

In the years that you've known him there were two distinct moments that made you believe that just as you have been in love with him, maybe he was in love with you, too. And as you watch him rub his crinkled nose, trying to act chill but can't, you somehow convince your fickle heart that this might be the third.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, with all this talk about our ‘chapter 2’...”

“Yeah?”

“I know things are going to change, but I’m glad you’re still here. I honestly don't know what I'm doing half the time, but you, you give me direction,” he smiles, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you seriously thanking me for my constant nagging?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “I’m thanking you for being my friend.”

Oh. Ouch.

His lips keep moving and moving, and he is saying things with a fond smile, but your ears can’t register a single word. Except that single word: friend. Because, that’s all he sees you as, and that’s all you’ll ever be, and lest you need a reminder, that’s why you did what you did.

Disappointment cracks through your core and your lungs are suddenly devoid of air and you feel the urgent need to step away.

“Sorry Yoongi, I- I have to go.”

“Huh?” The light in his face fades, replaced by a frown and confused eyes that are watching your every move.

“Wait, did I say something? Tell me what's wrong.”

Don’t cry. Shit. Don’t cry.

“I've nothing to tell you.”

You grimace at how stiff you sounded but before you can rectify anything, your feet take you to the nearest trailer. You close the door and drop to your knees as uncontrollable sobs rack your body.

You rein yourself in after a few minutes, wiping your tears on the back of your sleeve. You fish your phone out from your pocket, the photo on your lock screen twisting the knife lodged in your heart.

You ring the first person on your recent contacts.

“I can’t do it, Jiminah.”

“What happened? Talk to me.”

You tell him how you were just talking and it was getting deep then he got sentimental and said thank you…

“For being his friend.”

A beat, then Jimin finally speaks. “He is such an idiot.”

“I can’t do this,” you say, with finality. “I’m going to finish this tour, but I’m really leaving. I can’t be around Yoongi anymore.”

You finally get a couple of days off and decide to dodge Yoongi after coming back from the desert. It’s oddly easy—he’s not seeking you out like he usually does. You left him hanging the last time you talked, and now you’re stumped about how to fix things. You and Yoongi never really fight, at least not seriously. You handle work stuff through Kakao, like sending over today’s recording schedule for the award show. He left you on read.

Jimin immediately calls out for you as you step inside the set. It was just one of the penthouse suites in the hotel you were staying in. You feel awkward as some eyes shift over to you as you barely had time to fix yourself, you just aren't in the mood.

“Hi,” you respond simply. “How's everything?”

Jimin glances over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze to find Yoongi staring blankly at the coffee table, a face of thunder.

“He knows. He heard you on the phone with me.”

Your heart immediately drops to your ass. “Shit.”

Jimin shrugs, a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face. “Yeah, he’s pretty confused… and a little pissed.”

“Did you–”

“I would never,” Jimin interrupts quickly, holding up his hands. “It’s not my story to tell.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You’re not sure if Jimin’s optimism is comforting or just making you more anxious. You’ve spent years imagining every possible outcome, every scenario where he finds out you felt something deeper. And most of those scenarios end in heartbreak.

Either way, you know you’ve got to face the storm brewing in Yoongi’s eyes.

The shoot goes on without a hitch. You and Yoongi avoid each other like the plague, so much so that one of the makeup unnies takes notice. You downplay it, not wanting to be the subject of workplace gossip.

The schedule wraps up and as you get ready to leave, there is a light tap on your shoulder.

“Hey noona,” Jake says, looking a bit nervous but flashing a tentative smile. “Umm, a bunch of us are heading out tonight. If you don’t have plans, you should join us.”

Jake’s one of the newer camera guys, and while he’s been nice—always greeting you and opening doors—he’s barely scratched the surface of what could be considered a friend. He’s not just polite; he’s actually pretty cute. You’ve never really hung out with him before, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no. It was one of the last nights you have in Las Vegas, and maybe, you should live a little.

“Ok. What time are we leaving?”

“Can we meet at the lobby by 10?”

Just as you’re about to respond, there’s a loud crash from the other side of the room. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Jin amidst a flurry of crew members rushing over. Whatever happened, it looks like it’s already being dealt with.

“10?” you repeat, still distracted by the commotion.

He nods.

“Got it,” you reply, trying to shake off your unease.

Jake adjusts his backpack and gives you another nod, his smile still lingering as he heads out. “Cool. See you tonight.”

“Ok…” you nod, a little dazed as you watch Jake fistbump one of the producers on the way out.

“Hot date?” Jimin appears out of nowhere, casually sipping his Americano. His grin is a little too knowing—clearly, he was eavesdropping.

“Not really. He just mentioned that a few people were planning to go clubbing and asked if I wanted to join.”

Jimin’s eyes light up. “So, he wouldn’t mind if we tagged along, right?”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

Yoongi lifts his wine glass at you, smiling and unbothered.

Is this him extending an olive branch?

“Hey, Danbi, Eunchae…” he says, his gaze drifting past you to the two girls from Design. They look momentarily stunned, then offer hesitant waves, clearly not accustomed to this rare gesture from the usually wordless Yoongi.

Seriously?

This asshole.

A knot of frustration tightens in your stomach. Not only is he acting like nothing happened, but he’s also playing it cool, like he’s completely unaware of how much this is getting under your skin.

You’re sad, but now you’re kinda pissed, too. And the worst part of it all, he knows he looks fine.

Ginger hair slicked back to reveal the fresh undercut, He’s wearing some black shirt and black pants, with Jordans you would guess, and you know if it was any other man wearing that, he would have been stopped at the door.

You shift the strap of your dress slightly, conscious under his taunting eyes. The little number was something hot you recently picked up, the kind that might end up on somebody's floor.

“Are you going over to them,” Jake asks casually, leaning closer to your ear.

“No,” you say, breaking eye contact with Yoongi and moving to the next table where the others were, with Jake following closely behind.

A chorus of hellos started as you reached the table. There were a couple of girls from Hair and Makeup and some of the videographers, too. As if on cue, a tray of colorful shots are suddenly placed on the center console. The night is about to begin.

Jake has been incredibly attentive so far, but the truth is, it’s someone else’s attention that you want. You are hyper aware of Yoongi’s presence and it’s like having an itch you couldn’t scratch.

You spot Yoongi by the bar, alone and absorbed in his own world. As usual, he's oblivious to the pair of women casting lingering glances in his direction.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and make your way towards him. You notice his shoulders tense and stiffen as you approach, a clear sign of his unease, which almost made you want to retreat. But you know you can't go on another day of this unresolved tension with him.

“Yoongi, can we talk?”

He looks up, smirking as he swirls his drink. “Nah.”

Alright. You were not expecting that.

“Look, I just wanna explain–”

“It’s cool. You don’t have to,” he cuts you off, his voice casual but his eyes fixed stubbornly on the lowball glass he’s holding.

“But I–”

“You don't wanna be around me anymore, simple. Dunno why you're here.”

“Wait, Yoongi, you don't understand.”

“Don't understand? You never told me shit.” You notice how his fists are clenched, knuckles turning white. “I would have apologized if I did something wrong. Thought you knew that. Thought we were friends.”

It’s that word again. You chuckle bitterly. “Friends, I know. You keep saying that.”

At this he looks up at you, brows furrowed, but it was your turn to avert your gaze.

“‘Kay. You're leaving anyway, right? You can start now.”

“Fine.”

“Bye.”

You take a few steps, but something tugs at you, pulling you back. You glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch him watching you leave, wishing he’d somehow intervene, stop you from walking away.

But he isn’t there. His chair is already empty, the space where he sat now as vacant as if he’d never been there at all.

No one knows you better than Yoongi, and apparently no one else can hurt you quite like him, too.

The night is young. The club is electric. It is the hottest spot in town and you are hell-bent to experience it to the max.

Spirits and sugary shots tempered the hurt that settled in your gut after your encounter with Yoongi, now replaced with an urge to forget, to almost rebel.

The dance floor becomes your sanctuary. Shots of sweet, potent liquor flow, loosening you up and syncing your movements with the music. The crowd sways around you, a sea of bodies, but Jake remains a constant anchor.

His hands rest confidently on your stomach, your back pressed against his chest as you grind slowly against him. With one arm raised, you hook your hand around his neck, letting your bodies move in perfect rhythm. It's been a while since you let yourself go like this, but it's Vegas, after all.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so sexy, noona.”

“Wanna get out of here?” The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop you.

Jake's eyes widen slightly, but he nods, quite enthusiastically actually, and you think: fuck it, he's cute and you are leaving the company anyway.

Disappointingly, the heat between you and Jake cools with every passing second as you make your way back to the hotel. Yet, you cling to the idea of seeing it through, driven by the need to prove a point: that a) your life doesn't revolve around Min Yoongi; and b) you are attractive and can pull anyone, even if Min Yoongi does not want you.

In another world, this would be a whirlwind of clothes flying off, bodies pressed against walls, hands exploring with urgency. But instead, you both enter the hotel room in silence, the air heavy with a tension that contrasts sharply with the passionate encounter you’d hoped for. The quietness between you feels like a stark reminder of how far you are from the fantasy you envisioned.

Jake notices the maze of thoughts you were lost in.

“Noona,” he says, placing his jacket over the arm of the couch. “Are you sure you want this?”

Want. It was hard to stitch words as a response to that. Not when your heart has only wanted one person for years.

To be fair you do want Jake in your bed tonight. Objectively, he is super attractive - his soft, wavy hair, those wide, doe eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass.

No time to waste. You turn to him, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it slip to the floor. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes, yes, it does,” he walks in long strides over to you, yanking up his shirt in one fell swoop, revealing his toned stomach.

His hands cup your face and soon you feel his lips against your… neck? Ok, you can get into this. It’s not like you hate it.

He spends a few moments kissing you there. You close your eyes, willing your brain to shut off and just be in the moment.

“Can I touch you here?” One of his hands ghosts the side of your rib, inching towards the underside of your breast.

But before you can answer, loud knocks pound at your door.

“What the hell?” You hastily pull up your dress, zipping it up quickly. The furious raps continue and you can hear a voice behind it.

Jake follows you as you head to the door, picking up his tee from the floor and pulling it over his torso.

Bothered at the urgent banging, you don’t think to view the peep hole as you swing the door open, revealing

“Yoongi?” you squeak.

“Get out.” Eyes bloodshot, he strides past you and goes for Jake, who quickly tries to side-step him, moving a few steps back to create distance between them.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jake's eyes, wide as saucers, go to his elder then to you, before a realization dawns on him. “They said you weren't– Fuck, I swear I really thought–.”

"Get. Out." His voice is cold, laced with a fury you’ve never heard from him before. He grabs Jake by the arm, practically shoving him toward the door.

Jake casts a pitiful glance back, mumbling, "Sorry, noona," even though he’s done nothing wrong. But you don’t see it. Your hands are covering your face, trying to shield yourself from the shock and shame crashing over you as the scene unfolds.

“Fuck off, kid.”

And then the door slams shut.

Yoongi paces the room like a caged animal, his hand raking through his sweaty hair in frustration. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged, as if he’s on the verge of losing control.

You finally find your voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just barge in my room like that!”

“I just did,” he fires back. “Why are you with him?”

“It's none of your business. But since you really wanna know. I was about ready to fuck him.”

He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. “Did he touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

His hand shakes as he drags it through his hair again, his frustration barely contained. “Did you want him to?”

You can't understand why he’s asking these questions, why he’s reacting like this.

“Yoongi,” you exhale heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi likes being in Las Vegas. The city buzzes with an electric energy, a stark contrast to his own chill demeanor. It’s a place where neon lights flash all night, and the unpredictable atmosphere makes him feel like a fish out of water—a thrilling kind of discomfort. He doesn't get why a city so loud and chaotic captivates him, but it does.

He was never one for outlandish, over-the-top spectacles, but the Cirque du Soleil show he watched with you and Hobi the other night instantly became one of his favorites.

He never liked recreational gambling, but the way you lit up with joy and hugged him tight after winning just 20 bucks at a random slot machine—it’s now one of his most cherished memories.

He never fared well in big, buffet restaurants, but if it means hearing you shout “Yoongi, carry meeee” (so stupid) as you beg him for a piggy back ride after downing five heaping plates, then maybe he can start looking up some buffets back home, too.

Las Vegas is free. Las Vegas is wild. Min Yoongi is not.

At least, not until that night when he tore past wild and plunged into nothing short of primal.

Straight out of a segment from The Animal Planet, he was a tiger, lounging contentedly with his pack. You were his queen, his chosen mate—though you don’t know it yet. But when a looming threat emerges, the alpha in him awakens, tapping into ancient survival instincts to protect what’s his.

First, he observed the threat.

Some guy from production. Jake. He’s HYBE's new ace videographer from Australia. Isn’t he younger than her?

Oh shit, this was the dude Yoongi actually handpicked to be the director of photography for his documentary. He might have to rethink this, depending on how things play out.

Fucker has his hand on your back and you shift subtly so his hand falls away. This is good, you don’t seem to be too into his advances, Yoongi tells himself, relaxing slightly on his chair.

Second, he assessed the situation.

Unfortunately for him, the situation escalated quickly.

Never in his life has he ever wanted to gouge his eyes out so badly. If he could actually shove his fingers in his eye sockets and scoop his eyeballs from his skull he would have done it right then. Yet somehow he couldn't look away. There was a sick, sadistic pleasure in watching you lose yourself on the dance floor. Like a voyeur, he stared, mouth slightly parted, breathless as your body grinds in time with the bass. He didn’t want to acknowledge the other man in the picture, the one that wasn’t him.

“You’re drooling, hyung,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin erupts in a fit of giggles, almost falling out of the bar stool.

Yoongi wants to deny it. But between the ache in his heart and the boner in his pants, he did not have it in him to lie. “Pass me a napkin, dipshit.”

Third, he sensed danger.

Unfortunately again, he had to use the toilet at some point. And as he returns to his spot on the balcony, he panics.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Jimin looked at him, warily. “They left.”

No, he thought. No, no, no they’re not leaving this club. They are not leaving his sight.

Fourth, he took decisive action.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body spurring him to run out the door, his phone on his ear as he tries to reach his driver.

“Hyung, stop.” Jimin runs to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“You know where.”

“Why?”

His head is pounding. He cannot think straight. And Jimin asking so many questions is so fucking annoying.

“You know why.”

Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you idiots just talk about this like normal people?”

He doesn’t answer his friend, but he knows Jimin will be coming with him, whether he likes it or not. Because Jimin, nosy as he may be, is also one of the last real ones in his life.

Fifth, he confronts the threat head-on.

Which has brought him here, in your room, acting like the unhinged motherfucker he never aspired to be.

Your stern voice shakes him from his thoughts. “If you’re just going to stand there, just get outta here, Yoongi.”

“No.”

“No?” you let out a huff, a bitter sound cutting him. “You got some fuckin’ nerve. You ask me all sorts of questions, but you can't answer mine, huh?”

He has never seen this look in your eyes, and he starts to regret the hasty decision to come to your room.

Now, he was confronted with the first and very real possibility of you walking out of his life.

“Again, why are you here?” you ask, your voice a notch softer than it should be. It’s clear you’re exhausted, your tear-filled eyes an indication, wanting nothing more than for everything to make sense.

He cautiously pads towards you and gently reaches out for your hand. To his relief, you let him take it and he envelops it in both of his.

He takes one good look at you, committing your face to memory, because in his mind, this could be the point where your friendship ends.

He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes for a moment, before a confession finally spills from his lips. “Because I can't lose you.”

You blink and a lone tear spills free.

“I heard you on the phone with Jimin and what you said broke me. I keep thinking what I did wrong, but I can't figure it out. Then I saw you with that guy and I lost my shit. You know I'm terrible at expressing myself, but I need you, ok? More than I can say. Don't go. I can’t let you go.” He tugs you gently towards him, encasing you in his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest, and he is certain you can finally hear his heart that beats only for you. How he wishes he can summon the courage to say so. But the moment feels so delicate and he wants to tread lightly.

“Yoongi…” you sigh out his name and his heart races at how tenderly you seem to have surrendered to him.

“I’m so sorry that I was such a dick to you. Didn’t mean to ice you out. Honestly, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

“What is it that you want, then?”

“This.” He tightened his arms a tad against your frame to make a point, before pulling his head back, just enough to be able to see your eyes when he says, “You.”

Your breath hitches and he is unable to read the expression in your face. Was it just shock? Was it dismay? A slight panic bubbles in his throat. Did he misread the signs? Did he just blow it? But you felt so pliant under his touch, you still do. So he had to ask, even if your response might just end him.

“Y-you don’t want this?”

“No, I do, I do,” you say, almost too quickly, nibbling on your bottom lip afterwards. His thumb goes to caress your cheek, and you lean slightly into his touch.

‘Fuckin’ do something,’ his brain screams at him, the way it has for years now.

So many words are still unspoken between you two, but as he looks at the affection and the want in your eyes, he decides–fuck it, you can talk later.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he finally admits, his voice low but steady. "Is that okay?"

You nod, but hesitate. "I’m just—” you place a hand on his shoulder, as if to anchor yourself on him. “I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

He lets out a breath, a smile playing on his lips as he sees yours curve into a shy grin.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he murmurs as he closes the gap, his lips almost grazing yours.

“I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Yoongi.” Your nose nudges his, inviting him to make the next move.

“You were never just a friend,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

“And after this,” you say, moving your hands to the back of his neck, “I might want you all to myself.”

His lips brush against yours, featherlight. It’s barely a kiss, just a fleeting touch, but it leaves you both craving more.

“Baby,” he breathes, “I’m already yours.”

A/N: What do we think??? Feedback is appreciated! Do we hear wedding bells, or nah? See you in Part Two! 🙂

Tag: @tea4sykes @mggv97 @jajabro @yooglefics @codeinebelle @tinytan-gerine @comingupwithacoolnameishard @dontcribuyabag @mizz-kraziii @angelfuzzy2 @marnz1990 @speedyhandsbonkpalace @amarawayne @coffeedepressionsoup @little-cherry01 @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @lolpanda94 @parapiop7 @wobblewobble822 @dazzlingjade @storyofafangirl @yoongrace @mzbtsreads

Thank you so much for reading, you beautiful human! xo

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic

863 notes · View notes

chilumi-shipper · 13 days ago

Note

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #childe angst #childe x reader #genshin impact childe

460 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 2 months ago

Text

Watching Agtha All Along and seeing Audrey plaza (good gods that woman) gave me a little bit of inspo.

Imagine Bucky with a partner who isn’t quite…right & pt 2

No one can exactly place a finger on what makes them on edge whenever you’re around. No one can fully explain what it is about you that makes every alarm go off in their head.

Sam jokes that it’s because you’re utterly silent and still. He might have asked you once or twice if you were a vampire after watching you for 5 minutes and not seeing you breathe. The slow blink and stare that found his worst nightmares in moments told him enough; vampire or not, you’re certainly not human.

Tony has tried to run tests on you several times without your knowledge but none have produced a satisfactory result. Blood tests have come back blank. At first he thought it was merely a mistake but after the fourth time, he realized that your blood completely evaporates in seconds. He’s tried over means of DNA testing but all offer the same result of inconclusive thanks to a variety of factors.

Bruce was recruited to offer some assistance as well as Stephan. Neither were able to pin point anything about your origins other than you are both natural and unnatural. Sometimes when you blink, your left eye will turn a milky eye color and you seem to disappear within yourself. Other times a grey mist will engulf your skin and swirl in time with your emotions. Once Bruce swears he saw a tendril reach out from the shadows and wrap around the ends of your hair.

Steve pretends that he likes you but in reality is wholly horrified that his best friend is with you. He’s fought alongside you, witnessed the unexplained things that you’ve done in the heat of war. He’s watched while you emotionlessly stared at a man who wept for his life and still ran a shadowy blade through his back. He’s seen you lick the blood from your fingers and smirk at the taste.

However nothing compares to the violence that you’ve unleashed on any who’ve hurt Bucky. Those memories will no sooner leave him than the fear that they instill in him.

He swore to never tell another soul, dead or alive what you’ve done when Bucky’s life has been at stake.

Other than Bucky, Loki is the only one who’s managed to get a word out of you. The first time you met at the tower, his charming smile fell and he stumbled away from you. Nearly falling into Thor, he stared at you with a wild and dangerous curiosity that led him to figure out that you were as some kind of primordial being.

“Chaos. You have to be Chaos,” he gasped in admiration and astonishment. Everyone else gasp as well but out of fear and worry of what your reaction would be.

“Must I be?”

“Hesiod wrote that you were an endless void of nothingness in which the universe sprang from.”

Bucky, from where he had been reading on the couch, chuckled under his breath and nodded in agreement. “If only you knew.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes

702 notes · View notes

seresinhangmanjake · 5 months ago

Text

Come Back Together

Benny Cross x reader

Summary in bullet points:

Now that Benny is back in your life, he is trying to be a better husband

Benny is insecure about his relationship and a barfight ensues

Reader is pregnant (three months)

Benny does a bit of pining and is emotionally vulnerable

Fluffiness

Part 2 of Come Back Knockin’

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, angst and fluff, relationship struggles, physical altercations (fist fight), mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy, mention of alcohol, cursing, kissing, happy stuff, typos. I think that’s it. This took me forever to write for some reason and I was weirdly stressed about it. tf is wrong with me, right? Anyway…

Words: alright no one freak out…it’s 4300. Idk why it’s a lot longer than the first part but I always do that. If you’re willing to venture onward, I appreciate it :)

Benny Cross Masterlist

Part 3: Together and More

He stares at you incessantly. Which isn’t out of the ordinary—he used to stare at you all the time—but there’s something else to it now. He stares as if he thinks you’ll disappear the second he takes his eyes off of you. Like you'll slip through his fingers. Ironic, really, since disappearing in the blink of an eye is more his thing.

“Can I make you something?” he asks, staring at you from his chair while you pull a carton of eggs from the fridge. “You should be sitting instead of me.”

“You don’t know how to cook, Benny,” you state matter-of-factly, turning your back to him as you switch on the stove and set a pan on the lit burner.

Cooking has always been your responsibility. It was one of the things you brought to this relationship. And you liked being the one to keep Benny fed, never chiming in when the other Vandals’ wives and girlfriends mentioned how exhausting it was to satisfy their man’s grumbling stomach. You liked that Benny appreciated you for it.

Now you wonder if subconsciously you believed that as long as you fed him, he’d stay by your side, regardless of his wild nature. Kind of like a puppy. But Benny Cross is no puppy.

“I should probably learn,” he says. “You know, for the kid.”

You hum, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan. “Maybe you should stick to learning how not to ditch your family,” you retort, and immediately your features twist in a wince.

You can’t believe you let those words out of your mouth. You’d been doing so well at holding in the little jabs and remarks, no matter how hard they’ve pushed at your sealed lips. Not to say a few of them haven’t slipped through in the last month, they have, but each time they did, you received instant punishment in the form of Benny’s heart crumbling right before your eyes.

He’s never tried to make you feel guilty about your slip-ups, but he can’t seem to hide his expressions around you anymore. Ever since Benny returned, he’s been different. Your husband who was once so stoic has untethered his emotions from the piece inside of him that, for years, refused to let them show. His affection is more outward now, but unfortunately, so is his pain. So you made a rule to stop doing that to him; stop catching him off guard with words of hurt during a time of pending forgiveness. What he did was damaging, yes, but it’s unfair to pick at him when he’s been doing everything he can to show you he has value to this family; things he never would have done before.

He wakes earlier than you to clean the most-used areas of the house—a poorly done job; you still find dust in spaces dust should have easily been wiped up, but he tries. He found work at a mechanic’s shop not too far from the house, and surprisingly, he has yet to complain about it—a decent job was always something he physically and mentally shunned. He got rid of everything in the spare room and has begun painting the walls from the deep brown left over from the prior owners to a soft, light green that matches the baby blanket he brought you. It’s cute, and significantly better than you would have done without him. You would’ve been too stressed to put together a nice nursery.

Benny awkwardly clears his throat, breaking up your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. The lingering discomfort from your snide tone is palpable, heavy, just short of physically formed, and you can’t escape it.

“I didn’t mean that,” you tell him as you flip the egg.

The sizzle in the pan is louder as uncooked egg hits the heat, but you can still hear his deep breath, easily picturing the weak smile on his face when he softly says, “It’s ok. I deserve it.”

You’re about to protest, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“I was thinkin’ about goin’ to a meeting tonight,” Benny says. “You wanna come with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Oh…” he says, dejected. “It's been a while since you've been to one. I know you stopped goin’ when I was…away, so I thought…”

You set the spatula down and turn to face him, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t going to go without you. And considering everything, everyone just would have pitied me. I'm sure they still do.”

His blue eyes fall to the tiled floor. You know he hates that such a thought would enter your mind, but it’s not as if you’re capable of stopping it. He put you in a pitiful situation, and were the circumstances placed upon another woman, you would have felt those same feelings for her.

“No one pities you, baby. I promise,” he says. “They miss you.” His head lifts so he can meet your stare. “But if you don’t want to go then I'll stay here with you. We can watch a movie or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen. “No!” you yelp. Benny’s head jerks back at the sudden outburst and you swallow to buy yourself time to sort your thoughts into words, but the best you come up with is: “You’re right, actually. We should go.”

“But you just–” His brow raises in skepticism. “Are you sure?”

If your options are club meeting surrounded by a large group of people or movie-watching with you and Benny alone, then yes, you are absolutely sure. The movie channels have rallied against you lately. Out of the five times you and Benny have watched a film since he came back, all five have been romances. All of them!

You don’t know if he scours the TV Guide without you noticing or if the television channels have simply rallied against you, but sitting beside your husband who you are trying not to give in to is made all the more difficult when watching Audrey Hepburn fall in love with George Peppard or Cary Grant or Greggory Peck for God's sake. You see them and it makes you forget things. You forget that you’re as upset as you are, and with Benny so close, your heart starts to pound and you can’t focus on anything else. You want to crawl right into his arms, let him hold you and kiss you and take you on the couch after what has felt like an eternity apart. But you can’t do that. It’s too soon. So no movies.

“Positive,” you nod.

An easy smile slides onto his face. “Well that’s great, baby. It'll be fun.”

“Yea. Sure.”

“Alright,” he says, standing. “I gotta get to the shop.”

He pauses as he passes by you, and you hold his gaze as he squashes the instinct to press his lips to your forehead.

You weren’t married to Benny for long before he panicked and left—only a handful of months—but it was long enough for the two of you to develop your own set of rituals. And by the consistency and ease with which Benny performed those rituals, anyone would have assumed they’d been in place for decades.

A kiss on the forehead after breakfast was one ritual. As was the bedtime cuddling with your leg slotted between his. And the way he’d stare at you in the mirror, his arms crossed and body leaning against the doorframe as he watched you brush your teeth with a grin on his face.

But the one you miss the most is the hug from behind that you'd receive once he’d decided to come home for the night. He’d circle his arms around your waist and place a kiss on your neck, and then he’d chuckle because he was so determined to sneak up on you and give you a little scare but was never successful. You could feel him before he touched you, you could smell his cologne, but you didn’t want to ruin his fun, so you let him have hope that one day he would finally surprise you.

Benny blows out a long breath through his nose. “I’ll see you tonight,” he mutters with a brief hint of a smile.

As the front door closes behind him, a carbon smell grabs your attention and you look over your shoulder at your breakfast. It’s charred, inedible, and you don’t even care, you just knock the pan off to the side to keep the house from burning down.

—

“Well, thank the lord,” Betty’s voice travels across the bar as she and Kathy approach you and Benny. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again, honey.”

Kathy draws you into a tight hug that rips you from Benny’s side. “Things have not been the same with you gone,” she says as she leans back, rubbing her hands up and down your arms. She smiles so sweetly and you breathe a sigh of relief. These women were your friends and you feel guilty for abandoning them just because Benny abandoned you. “Come sit.”

“Benny Cross, we are stealin’ your wife,” Betty declares, “And you don't get to whine about it.” There’s a dash of vitriol in her tone that nibbles at your gut and you hope it’s simply an effect of the alcohol she must’ve had prior to your arrival.

“Oh,” Benny says. You glance at him, at the disappointed look on his face—subtle, but there. He wanted you by his side tonight, but he’s not going to force you to deny their offer. “Ok.”

Kathy and Betty each take one of your hands and lead you to a small rounded table. It’s the centerpiece of the room, and as one of three surrounding it, so are you, unfortunately. As Betty sticks a cigarette in her mouth and Kathy takes a sip of her beer, your eyes scan the low-lit space.

Stares from the men lining the walls burn your cheeks. You recognize only half of them—the Vets, as they’re known—and they give you their smiles and nods in a ‘welcome back’ gesture, Johnny, in particular, sporting a rare grin.

The others—the Newcomers; out-of-towners who came specifically to join the club—look at you with something else in their eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? They seem to know exactly who you are and enjoy a little too much putting a face to the name. You, however, don’t know a single one of them. They’d arrived shortly before Benny left, and while some faces, those with distinct features, you can recall from nuggets of your memory, you’ve never spoken to them. You never got their names.

“Why this table?” you ask your friends.

“Best view of the pool table, obviously,” Betty chuckles after snapping Johnny’s lighter shut. She nudges her head in that direction. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’, I say.”

Flanking the table are Cal, Wahoo, and Benny; Wahoo watching and chattering from the sidelines as Cal and Benny alternate between shots.

Benny edges from one side of the table to the other, sizing up his options. Then, cue in hand, cigarette dangling from his lips, he bends at the waist and lines up the shot.

He’s so stupidly beautiful. The lamp hanging above the table illuminates him, defining his muscles by highlighting the hills and casting the valleys into shadow. A haze of smoke coats your view, but his pure essence and magnetism break through it like rays of sun through parted clouds.

Benny’s eyes flick up to yours and he winks as he shoots, driving two balls directly into their nets.

Your mouth goes dry. You swallow sandpaper, leaving your throat all raw and scratchy.

“So, how’ve you been, honey?” Betty asks, and you turn your head. “How've you been feelin’? How’s that nausea?”

“Yea,” Kathy adds, leaning in close as if seeking out a secret, “and how’s it been goin’ with him? Any trouble?”

“Um, I'm fine,” you say, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Nausea’s manageable.

As far as Benny goes, there's no trouble,” you tell them, “It’s just–” You pause.

What can you say? That you haven’t fully forgiven him even though he’s working so hard to be a good husband? That some of the things he’s doing around the house are swoon-worthy compared to what most men you know would do but you’re too stubborn to express the depth of your appreciation? Any woman would look at you like you’re insane.

When you think about it like that, maybe you are insane.

“I don't know,” you say with a shrug and a shake of your head. “It's hard to explain.”

“Well, according to Johnny, Benny’s worried each day in the house will be his last,” Betty says, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side. “That boy’s so afraid he’s gonna mess up and let you down again that I'm surprised he hasn't lost his marbles. I read in Life that bein’ that anxious wreaks havoc on the body and mind.”

Betty’s always reading something in Life, and a good portion of the time you are hesitant to take her seriously. Not necessarily because you don’t trust what the magazine reports, but that Betty tends to exaggerate for kicks.

You have a feeling she’s not exaggerating this time.

Your face falls.

“Don’t you feel bad about it for one second,” Kathy scolds, placing her hand on top of yours. “You’re well within your rights to make him earn his place.”

“I know, but I don’t want him to be scared that I'm going to–”

You’re cut off by a male voice slipping through a brief lull in the cacophony of noise.

“If she don’t want Benny no more, she can bring her sweet ass right on over to me,” a Newcomer says in a slurring mess. “I’d sure take better care of her than he did.”

Every soul in the room falls deadly silent—the only remaining sound being the melody of Elvis's Baby Let's Play House from the jukebox—and the world around you freezes.

Cigarettes are held over ashtrays, their ashes yet to be knocked off. Beer bottles are raised to lips without the satisfaction of a sip. The bartender’s rag has only wiped up half of a drunken man’s spill. No one is breathing and everyone’s eyes are glued to either the Newcomer or your husband. Yours are on Newcomer, watching his features shift and tick as he soaks in the weight of what he just said, and what it’s about to cost him.

Kathy sighs. “Oh, god.”

The whole bar hears her—impossible not to; you could hear a mouse skitter across the floor—and her words seem to carry with them the wave of a green flag, because a moment later, Benny rushes the guy and tackles him to the ground.

Chaos erupts. All at once, shouts, curses, and hateful name-calling explode like the impact of a bomb. Nearly every man in the club is taking sides in the war between Newcomers and Vets. Fists fly into faces. Faces are shoved against walls. Walls are cracked from bodies slamming into them. There’s the distinct sound of bone meeting bone. Blood splatters across your table.

“Jesus, fellas!” Kathy snaps as she and Betty hop up, dragging you out of the danger zone.

In a panic, your head whips in all directions. You can’t find Benny, but you need to find him and you need to find him now.

You’ve seen him throw punches at races and members’ houses but this is too public a space, and if the cops are called, he can’t be caught fighting again. Nor can he risk having fingers pointed his way for instigating. He already has a record, and though you didn’t know him during his few stints behind bars, you know he has exhausted the sheriff's leniency. If you leave now, Johnny will come up with something to excise Benny’s participation should questions arise.

You take a step forward but Kathy’s grip is tight. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” she shouts.

“To get my husband.”

Betty gapes. “Are you crazy? You're pregnant!” But you ignore her, shaking Kathy off and heading into the storm. “Johnny! Johnny, grab her!”

You weave through fight after fight, stopping short when a body lands at your feet, but he’s up and out of your way in an instant, and you continue dodging and ducking until you spot a blond head. From what you can see, there’s hardly a scratch on him. The same cannot be said for the drunk guy beneath him.

Before you can move another inch, an arm circles your waist and jerks you back.

“Hey!” you snap. “Let go!”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. You stay out of it,” Johnny says, lifting you off the ground and setting you down in a safer area. He puts his hands on your shoulders and dips his head to your eye level, locking on to your gaze. “I’ll get ‘im, ok? I’ll get ‘im. Stay right here.”

You nod in agreement, your brows knitted and teeth chewing on your bottom lip.

From this location, you have a better view of your husband and the friend who is trying and failing to break up the fight. Johnny yanking on Benny’s dominant arm is not enough to stop the attacks. Neither is the forearm locked around his neck.

When Cal notices Johnny’s struggle, he pushes his opponent into a table and races over to take hold of Benny’s other bicep. Together they pull him off the man whose face no longer resembles a human’s. It’s a bloody mess. His nose is dented in, eyes swollen shut, lips split and mouth hanging open to reveal an empty space where a tooth used to be.

Benny’s chest heaves. Murder is in his glare. He jerks against his restraints but struggles to break free with the force of two men weighing him to the ground.

Then Johnny mutters something in Benny’s ear that immediately halts his thrashing. His breathing slows. The fire fades from his irises, returning them to their soft cerulean, and his eyes tear away from the beaten man to dart around the room in search of you.

As Benny spots you, Johnny's lips move, seemingly forming the words ‘Get outta here,’ before he pats Benny on the chest and lets him rise to his feet.

Benny comes to you and without stopping grasps your hand and leads you out of the bar.

—

“You think you fractured anything?” You ask as you slide the key into the lock and turn.

Benny stretches and flexes his fingers. “No,” he answers, trailing into the house behind you and shutting the front door. “Are you upset with me?”

He’s been wanting to ask that question since you left the bar. As he'd placed the helmet on your head and clipped the strap under your chin, you'd observed his lips, how they were parting as if to speak but unable to get anything out. And when he'd helped you off the bike in front of the house, his expression was far away, his jaw shifting, teeth clenching—the look of your husband in intense thought.

At least he finally spit it out. Normally, he would have run his fingers through his hair and sighed, opting not to bother you with the question; a behavior that used to drive you crazy. It took weeks after you met for you to accept that while Benny was willing to share a lot with you—things he didn’t intend to share with anyone; a life, for instance—there were things best not to pester him into revealing.

So you’re a patient partner. If it needs to be said or asked, it’ll be said or asked. And you're glad he decided this was one question that needed to be asked.

You sigh, hanging your jacket on the rack, and Benny follows, selecting the hook closest to yours.

“I mean, you nearly killed him,” you say as you make your way to the back of the living room and open the closet that houses the first aid kit.

On tippy toes, you can barely brush your fingers along the metal tin, and you grumble each time you unintentionally push it a little further back on the shelf.

A muscled arm reaches above your head to grab the kit. Benny places it in your hands before stepping back into the seating area and dropping down onto the footstool, his standard perch when you’re fixing him up.

Blue eyes are glued to your body as you take a seat on the couch.

You pull the lid off of the tin and riffle through it for the small bottle of alcohol—you’ll have to buy more soon, it’s getting low—and a clean rag. With the alcohol-soaked fabric at the ready, you slip your fingers under his warm palm, bring his hand close, and get to work dabbing the wounds and wiping off some of the dried blood. He doesn’t so much as hiss at the shot of pain that makes any other human groan and pinch their eyes tight.

“He was out of line,” he tells you.

“I’m not saying he wasn’t out of line, but I really don't need you getting in trouble and being taken away from me, Benny.” You’re focused on his injury, but out of the corner of your eye, he winces in shame. “Besides, he was just mouthing off.”

“Mouthin’ off about my wife.”

With a huff, you drop your joined hands onto your lap and shoot him a look. “I know, but do you honestly believe what he said could ever happen? Do you think I would leave you for some other man?”

You ask with the full expectation of a whip-quick reply—‘of course not, baby’—but Benny adam’s apple bobs, and his teeth clench as his eyes flit to the undoubtedly less interesting carpet.

“Benny…?”

He runs his uninjured hand down his face and looks up at you. “C'mon, baby, it's not that wild of a thought. Not after what I did to you,” he says, his thumb slowly running over your knuckles. “You are so much better than anything I should be allowed to have. But me? You could throw a rock in any direction and you'd hit a man better than me. One that wouldn’t have panicked and left you pregnant and alone for six weeks.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“It is not, and even if it was, I don't want another man,” you confess. A beat passes as you exhale heavily to stave off the stinging of oncoming tears. “It hurts that you left, but I am working through it, we are working through it, ok? You’re not going to lose me, Benny Cross. Not unless you leave me.”

“I'm never leavin’ you,” he says.

You place your free hand on his cheek. “Then you’re never losing me.”

Benny swallows hard and scans your face—each and every feature—lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. As your thumb strokes his cheekbone, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, turns his head, and presses a kiss to your palm.

“Baby, I miss you so much,” he mutters, his brows pinched in anguish. “I miss touchin’ you. I miss holdin’ you. I miss sleepin’ next to you.” He lightly shakes his head. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve our baby, but I fuckin’ miss you.”

The unit that is your heart and body and soul feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. This isn’t what the past month of your lives was meant to be about. It was supposed to be about building trust, not dishing out punishment. And yes, you’ve messed up before, said things that weren’t fair, but keeping him at arm's length is more than that. It’s a deeper pain. Stronger. More potent. Not just for him, but for you as well, and now you can’t quite see the point anymore. Staying away from his touch does not help anything if what you want at the end of the day is to be together. And that is what you want.

When you touch your lips to his for the first time in almost three months, you whimper. You whimper and you melt and the tears want to come back because it’s so much easier to resist desire when you haven’t entertained it in a while. But now you’ve given in. You’re tasting him like you used to, tasting the remnants of gin and cigarettes and the blueberry pie you made for dessert, and it’s all Benny. Benny, who is so shocked that you’ve kissed him that it takes a handful of seconds before he kisses you back and becomes the Benny you know. And then he’s curling his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap, and his hands are everywhere. Squeezing your thighs, sliding over your ass, tracing up your spine, holding the back of your neck to guide you closer so he can kiss you harder, and yea, you are never depriving yourself of your husband again.

Benny stands, taking you with him, supporting your weight as he keeps kissing you and you keep kissing him. He blindly turns and settles into the comfort of the couch with your legs on either side of his hips.

You lean back, breaking the connection of your lips. “Benny.”

He’s staring at you like you’re hypnotic, mesmerizing. Like he’s drunk on kisses. His fingers trace the curvature of your face. A thumb ghosts over the swollen pillows of your mouth.

“Yea, baby,” he says, voice gravelly, just above a whisper.

“Do you want to be back in our bed?”

Benny stiffens and he blinks away that glazed-over expression. “You mean it?” He asks. You nod.

“Are you gonna be in the bed too?” he says, sifting his fingers through your hair. “We're not just swappin’, are we?”

You smile. “No, we aren't swapping,” you promise him, your forehead falling against his. “I'm making room.”

---

A/N: I kind of want to do a time jump Part 3 with lots of Dad!Benny stuff. Let me know if you’d be interested in reading that. Thanks :)

Taglist (if you wanna join)

#benny cross x reader #benny cross #bikeriders #austin butler #the bikeriders #benny cross fic #austin butler x reader

995 notes · View notes

cutielando · 7 months ago

Text

when in vegas | l.n.

social media au

synopsis: in which they shouldn't be left alone when in Vegas

my masterlist

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 3,291,574 others

landonorris Vegas baby tagged: yourusername

view all 392,184 comments

yourusername i love traveling with you <3

landonorris i love you 🫶🏻

mclaren Let's go!🧡 liked by yourusername and landonorris

mclaren also, please, BEHAVE - PR team

landonorris we'll try

yourusername i'll keep him under control

landonorris you'll be too busy to think about that 😈😈😈😈

mclaren LANDO

alex_albon please be good

landonorris not making any promises

yourusername sorry alex 🫣

oscarpiastri ...my room is next to yours...

yourusername 🫣🫣🫣

landonorris i suggest earplugs 🤭

oscarpiastri ...

charles_leclerc someone should watch over you two

yourusername not you, that's for sure

charles_leclerc why not?

landonorris you're worse than we are

charles_leclerc ...true

adam_norris_pure_electric good luck, my boy!!

landonorris thanks dad ❤️

ciscanorris take care of him yourusername

yourusername i will!!! ❤️

user1 you just know they are going to be WILD

user2 I cannot wait for the content abut these two

user3 THE COMMENTS

user4 they’re spending his birthday in Vegas together i’m not well 😭😭😭

user3 my man is getting LUCKY

maxfewtrell you seem to have lost my invite. again

landonorris nah, i just didn't want you here

yourusername babe, be nice please

maxfewtrell this is him being nice.. some friend you are

landonorris ;)

user5 max and lando bickering like siblings will forever be my favorite thing in the world

user6 NOT MCLAREN LITERALLY SCOLDING HIM HAHAHA

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 2,974,186 others

yourusername being by your side and watching you do what you love the most has been my greatest accomplishment. i am so proud of everything that you do and i'm forever thankful that you chose me to be a part of your journey. happy 24th birthday baby, i love you so much and i cannot wait to see what the future holds for us ❤️ tagged: landonorris

view all 549,282 comments

landonorris i wouldn't even think about doing life with anybody else. i love you so much 😩❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️

landonorris can’t wait to party with you tonight 😈

yourusername BEHAVE

landonorris 😈no

mclaren Happy birthday, Lando! We are proud of everything you do and we hope to continue being your family for many more years to come. Cheers! 🧡🧡

landonorris thank you 🧡

oscarpiastri happy birthday, mate. take it easy tonight

landonorris never 😈

oscarpiastri 🥲

yourusername i’ll keep him under control, don’t worry

landonorris you’ll be too busy to do that 😈😈

oscarpiastri THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP

georgerussell63 happy birthday, mate! 🥳 can’t wait to crush you on the track

landonorris thanks mate. you wish you had my pace

georgerussell63 your ego is through the roof

yourusername so is yours

user1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE DRIVER 🧡🧡🧡🧡 WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

user2 he’s all grown up 🥹🥹

user3 i remember when he was just a little guy starting out in F1 and now look at him 😭😭😭😭

user4 he’s so fine and talented and just UGH SO PERFECT 😩😩😩 happy birthday king 🥳🥳

user5 i love their relationship so much ❤️❤️ she keeps him grounded and he’s so much happier now

maxverstappen1 happy birthday 🎉 can’t wait to get drunk tonight

landonorris 😈😈😈😈

yourusername oh Jesus

kellypiquet we’re in for a very long night

charles_leclerc i heard there’s a party?

landonorris you’re not invited

charles_leclerc :(

yourusername don’t listen to him, you’re invited and we’d love it if you came 😊

landonorris we would?

yourusername shut up

charles_leclerc yay!! 🥳🥳

mclaren if someone could please keep an eye on them, we would really appreciate it - PR team

carlossainz55 consider it done

landonorris we’re not children, you know

mclaren you certainly act like children

yourusername they’re kinda right, you know…

landonorris shh

maxfewtrell happy birthday mate. looks like you made it another year

landonorris thanks. you know you can't get rid of me

maxfewtrell no matter how hard i try

liked by f1wags, yoursister and 28,473 others

formula1gossip MARRIAGE ALERT⁉️⁉️ Reports are saying that Lando Norris and long-time girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have tied the knot last night during his birthday bash in Las Vegas? What do you guys think? 👀

view all 7,381 comments

user1 tbh i hope it's true, they're amazing together😩

user2 i saw yoursister in the likes 👀👀👀👀

user3 yoursister GIRL WHAT DO YOU KNOW🫣

yoursister i know nothing

user3 SUCH A LIAR HAHAHA I LOVE IT🥲

mclaren sigh...🥲

user5 BAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS AMAZING

user6 this is basically the confirmation we needed

user7 i suddenly understand why everyone keeps saying they are the biggest PR nightmare 😭😭

user8 this is the most Lando thing ever

user5 for real, like this seems the kind of wedding Lando would have

user4 i can just imagine the earful Cisca is probably giving the both of them for doing this 😭😭😭

user2 she is so gonna tear them a new one hahahaha

liked by georgerussell63, ciscanorris and 4,291,857 others

yourusername & landonorris we got married last night. we don't remember much, but it was the best decision we have ever made. grateful to be starting this journey together ❤️

view all 829,175 comments

mclaren Congratulations!!🧡

landonorris thanks admin 😊

yourusername also, we're sorry for the nightmare we've caused the PR department 🫢

mclaren you're cute, we'll let this one slide - PR team

georgerussell63 wild night, but happy for you guys ❤️ liked by yourusername and landonorris

maxverstappen1 i don't even remember this happening

yourusername you were drunker than everyone, you couldn't even remember your name 😂

maxverstappen1 that's not true 😠

kellypiquet you danced naked in front of the wedding venue singing "Viva Las Vegas"

alex_albon for 20 minutes straight

landonorris not the sight I wanted to remember from that night

georgerussell63 me too

alex_albon me 3

charles_leclerc me 4

carlossainz55 me 5

maxverstappen1 OK I GET IT

ciscanorris my children ❤️ you're lucky i love you

yourusername we're sorry ❤️❤️ we promise to have a proper wedding when we get back

landonorris anything for the Mrs.

yourusername 🤭OH

oscarpiastri congrats guys, thanks for taking it easy on me last night with the noise 🥳

landonorris we were too drunk

yourusername you got off easy, pastry

oscarpiastri a win is still a win

user not both of them bullying poor oscar 😭😭

alex_albon never thought you would be the first one of us to get married

yourusername we didn’t either

landonorris what can i say, i love surprising people

maxfewtrell you guys getting married was definitely not on my bucket list for the year

yourusername but you loved it nonetheless

maxfewtrell i'm just grateful you got him to settle down

landonorris she is something else

yourusername 🤭

user1 YAYAYAYAYAAY 😩😩😩

user2 MY FAVORITE COUPLE GOT MARRIED 😭😭

user3 they are so precious 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

user4 CONGRATS ❤️❤️❤️

user5 our favorite WAG is officially HERE TO STAY ❤️❤️

yoursister mom is mad you got married without us

yourusername i’m sorry :((

landonorris kinda my fault, but don’t worry. we’ll have a proper wedding soon!!

yourmother you better.

yourusername MOM, be nice to your son-in-law

yourmother don’t push it, young lady

landonorris yes ma’am 🫡🫡

francisca.cgomes a truly wonderful night 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS DARLINGS!!!❤️❤️❤️

yourusername we love you !!! ❤️

lilymhe i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, but i’m really happy for you guys !! ❤️

yourusername don’t worry, you’ll come to our other wedding ❤️

user6 imagine saying OTHER WEDDING 😩😩

user7 i cannot wait to see their wedding 😭😭❤️

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 381,573 others

mclaren Mr. and Mrs. Norris everyone! Even though their wedding came as a surprise to us as well, we could never be mad at these two! 🧡 tagged: yourusername and landonorris

view all 98,481 comments

yourusername we love you guys !! 🧡🧡

landonorris thanks for the papaya post-wedding cake

mclaren was it delicious?

yourusername it was 🤩

user1 not McLaren posting them 😭😭

user2 they are just one big happy family🥹🥹

user3 MY PARENTS😩❤️❤️

charles_leclerc you're so milking this wedding

landonorris fame is fame

yourusername excuse me? 😠

charles_leclerc great job making her mad from day 2

landonorris you know i didn't mean it like that babe !!

yourusername you're treading on thin ice, mister

georgerussell63 how did y/n, the down-to-earth one, agree to this?

yourusername vodka might have been involved in my decision making process 🤐

landonorris and my good looks also played a part

georgerussell63 good to know that's all it takes

carmenmmundt don't get any ideas

maxfewtrell where is my slice of cake?

landonorris lost in the mail

maxfewtrell ...

yourusername don't worry max, i saved you a slice

landonorris i thought that was extra for me :((

maxfewtrell get your head out of your arse for once, mate

mclaren we'll get you another cake landonorris

user4 the way he has the McLaren staff wrapped around his little finger amazes me 🫣

user5 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND😭😭😭😭😭

liked by pietrapilao, mclaren and 8,392,817 others

yourusername & landonorris due to popular demand, we present to you, again, Mr. and Mrs. Norris

view all 982,175 comments

mclaren Congratulations guys!🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and landonorris

ciscanorris beautiful wedding, we love you so much❤️❤️❤️

yourusername we love you guys too !!!! thank you for making our day special🫶🏻🫶🏻

maxfewtrell great wedding, glad to see i was invited to this one at least

landonorris don’t be condescending

yourusername sorry maxie :)) you know we love you

charles_leclerc beautiful wedding, well done y/n 👏

yourusername thank you charles <3

landonorris i helped too...

charles_leclerc sure you did

carlossainz55 very beautiful ceremony, i loved the cake particularly 🫣

landonorris you thought bringing a Ferrari-themed wedding cake to my wedding was a good idea?

yourusername i thought it was delicious

carlossainz55 i rest my case

user1 SHE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I’M SOBBING 😭😭😭😭🥹😭🥹🥹🥹

user2 seeing him so happy makes me want to cry 😭❤️❤️❤️

zbrownceo Congratulations to my boy Lando, I hope you and Y/N have a wonderful life together!🧡

landonorris thank you zak 🧡🧡

yourusername we appreciate everything you’ve done for us Zak!!🧡

zbrownceo Thank you for taking care of our boy 🧡

user3 ZAK CALLING LANDO “HIS BOY” 😭😭

user4 YOUR HONOR, you don’t understand how in love i am with them 🥹🥹🥹

maxverstappen1 thankfully i remember this wedding

yourusername thank you for making an effort max

landonorris surprising on all fronts

francisca.cgomes OMG YOU LOOKED SO GOOD 😭😭😭 so grateful to have been by your side on your special day ❤️❤️

yourusername OH MY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️ thank you for everything you did for me ❤️❤️❤️

lilymhe truly such a magical night ❤️❤️ so happy for you guys

yourusername thank you lils ❤️❤️

alex_albon i still can't believe you're married

landonorris bro, we've had 2 weddings, you better start believing

yourusername stop living in denial, alex

yoursister ❤️❤️❤️ if he hurts you, i will fight him

yourusername he won't. if he does, i'll fight him myself

landonorris ...so much violence...

user5 i can now die happy❤️

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

996 notes · View notes

justadeadreaper · 6 months ago

Text

You can thank my friends for encouraging me to write more and write this, as my motivation to write has been completely fried due to the stress of exams and other issues in my life. Sorry for not posting in forever.

CW: Chubby!König x AFAB!Reader, food play with ice cream, overstimulation, temperature play, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

Even with how his age was affecting his stamina Chubby!König always found a way to go on for hours when it involved you. You had asked him before why this was the case and normally you received a shrug from the older man as he just explained that it was purely a result of you having such a gorgeous body that he could not keep his perverted mits off of. He always patted your head after hours of fucking telling you not to think about it too hard or worry about it as he made you rest on his fatty pecs that you always joked needed a bra rather than the hole-covered wife-beater he prefers.

Yet your poor little cunt could not stop thinking about it. How could it not? All sore and swollen and red from having that bitch breaker he calls a cock destroying your insides to try and fulfil his perverse fantasies that raided his mind virtually every minute of the day. You always tended to whine after his hours upon hours of fucking you into the bed like a lion in its rut due to the soreness down there.

You thought today would be no different.

Well, it was what you thought. You thought he would give his normal reaction to your whining which you had become used to, his usual condescending responses that he gave in that sickly sweet voice of his as he made sure his dear Hase stopped your whining. But, this time he rose out of your shared bed without saying a word. At first, your thoughts ran wild thinking that you had upset him as you tried to call him back to bed, even offering your cunt as an apology, still, he continued ignoring you as he left the room and you could hear the old wooden stairs creak under his feet as he always promised to fix the annoying sound but never did. The pit of worry crept from your stomach through your throat scraping at the sides until you heard the familiar sound of him walking back up the stairs. Once he had reentered the room the first thing you saw was his face, particularly that familiar shit-eating smirk he always wore when he had finally gotten something over you. Your eyes travelled down to see what he held in his hands and... oh.

Oh.

A tub of ice cream with a spoon. The tub was a repurposed tub from a pint of strawberry ice cream he had gorged on weeks ago to use for the ice cream machine he had brought to make his own due to his hate towards brands for not making a mixture of strawberry, pistachio, and vanilla ice cream even after his multiple threats and bribes. You could tell from the slight sheen of water dripping from the tub that he had already slightly melted it under some warm water as the spoon had a slight sheen of frost.

He did not falter in his steps as he came closer to the bed before he came back upon it, the mattress dipping under the weight exerted from his knees. One knee was used to part your thighs as his hands were too distracted with opening the lid with a satisfying pop. You desperately tried to close your legs again when you felt the hair from his thigh rub against your cunt, but it was no luck as the strength of the muscles beneath the fat formed a wall you could never dream of toppling, even if you tried with all your might. A whine tried to erupt from your mouth in protest, but it was quickly halted by the gasp that burst through at the feeling of the freezing spoon against your throbbing clit.

All Chubby!König did was let out a hushed chuckle at your reaction; he kept the spoon on your clit not caring at the pain that wrapped around the small nub due to the overstimulation he always seemed to inflict on you that caused you to squirm. He always loved your reactions to what he had done, and this brought the biggest smile to his face.

Once he had finally decided that he had enough of torturing your poor clit he moved the spoon off your pathetic clit that throbbed from the loss of the touch but also the overwhelming, overstimulating pain. He then dipped the spoon in the ice cream before scooping the slightly melted cream all over your cunt, the lighter colour of it making it seem as if your cunt was not as red as the tomatoes the two of you grew. It hurt, but the coldness gave some well-needed relief after his onslaught, but the relief was short-lived.

Without a second thought, he pushed his head down between your thighs and began to sloppily lick the ice cream from your sticky cunt. The ice cream blended in with your juices to make a mixture that sent him to Heaven, one-half you -his favourite meal in the world- and the other half his favourite ice cream. Chubby!König, in all terms and senses of the phrase, was a simple man that such a perverse activity brought him a joy that he would gladly chase after by spending his life doing it until the end of eternity. As the muscle of his tongue lapped at your pussy like a starved dog with even a few prods that threatened to breach your sore walls that were already tightening around nothing, one of his hands would reapply the ice cream to where he had licked it off while his other hand reached between his own thighs to relieve the aching, throbbing shaft that strained against the chub of his thigh, wetting the hair with the globs of precious seed that leaked out from the blushed tip.

He continued with this pattern like an automated machine, as his brain had been on autopilot for most of it, letting the sensation, pleasure, and taste cloud his mind like the world’s strongest drug. Only one thing would stop him. Your cum. Particularly your cum all over your face as it made your cum drip into a small puddle that would force the bed sheets to be changed in the morning. From the use of the tongue and all of your orgasms from earlier, it was not hard for you to release once more as the overstimulation finally caught up to your pleasure-fogged mind.

The smirk that twisted his scarred lips from all the years of gnawing was something that only could be rivalled by the cockiest of gods. He finally pulled back to admire the masterful piece of art his cock, hands, and tongue had created before he enacted the next part of his plan.

He dragged the spoon up your cunt, collecting as much of your juices and ice cream onto the spoon as he could. Then he brought it to his dick, his movements becoming more rushed and drastic as he jerked off to reach the release that had been teasing him when he started this whole mess. All it took was another minute before thick ropes of cum spurted over the spoon mixing with your juices and the ice cream, the ultimate summary of this event. He then pushed the spoon towards the mouth.

“Open up...” he commanded.

You did.

“Good Hase~...” he chuckled darkly with the glint of a successful predator in his eyes.

You whined as he pushed the spoon in your mouth, forcing you to close your lips before you swallowed the salty but sweet and creamy mixture that had its appealingness to it in its own twisted way.

“What’s wrong Hase? I thought you said you wanted something to help with the soreness, ja?~” he condescendingly asked in response to your reaction.

He was right, like always; you just did not mean it like this. But, when you saw how his dick had chubbed up once more, you realised this would become a more frequent occurrence and that you were in for a much longer night than you had originally expected.

Oh, how you had cursed yourself by ever whining in the first place.

#cod #call of duty #konig #könig #könig call of duty #cod konig #konig x reader #afab!reader #könig x reader #chubby!könig #foodplay #overstimulation #overstim #temperature play #könig smut #könig cod #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig smut

322 notes · View notes

krirebr · 9 months ago

Text

Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life.

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @femefetalelevelingup

#everybody wants to rule the world #we're all monsters #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers #captain america #vampire au #dark!fic #dark fic #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #kris wrote something

480 notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 3 months ago

Text

The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie! (Chapter Five)

Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor, will you get to see the goods, or was it just a rumor? Time will tell.

Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: language, suggestiveness, social media drama, hate comments, cyber bullying,

A/N: One more part remaining of this series!! Thanks for you patience I really appreciate you all!! 💚💚💚

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

“Yo, wait—” Gojo flushed, shifting in his gaming chair. “This man is—oh! Ooh!” his computer screen was reflected in the lenses of his dark blue glasses as comments came flooding in from his chat. “Why is he lifting me!? Where is he taking me?” several comments came flooding in, talking about how Sylus was Gojo‘s kryptonite to others, begging for him to read his lines, including the little sounds he made. All of which he ignored his eyes, focusing on his phone that was propped up on his desk. A message from you flashed across the screen.

Sweetheart💚: I can’t believe you’re two-timing whore! 😩

He swirled side-side in his chair as he picked his phone up, smiling like an idiot. Everything else didn’t seem to matter as he ignored his stream for a second to send you a quick reply, which didn’t go unnoticed by his fans asking what he was doing.

Gojo: How could you? If anyone’s a two-timer, it’s you. And what’s his face—Rafayel? I distinctly remember you telling me to play this.

Sweetheart💚: don’t bring my fictional husband into this! 😤You’re the one fawning over Sylus on the livestream over the “shower scene”

Gojo: jealous? 😏

Sweetheart💚: Me jealous? No never.

Gojo: if you want to shower with me that bad, all you have to do is ask, sweetie! 😮‍💨

Sweetheart💚: I want to shower with you and be at the shop in 10 minutes! 😚

His heart swelled, and his cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling. It had been close to a month since you both had met each other. A month that had been filled with laughter, dates, and joy. Gojo couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy!

The only real hiccup the two of you had experienced was the leaked photo of you at the Love Hotel. That has been stressful and nerve-racking, but things to his mad, amazing PR manager. This situation had been diffused before it could spread like wildfire. Gojo made a statement to his fans, asking them to respect his personal life, which was respected. The prodding questions had stopped, but of course, he still had the occasional question that brought up the mystery girl from the hotel. Whenever something like that was asked, he had his statement memorized, which he would recite to not come off as an asshole. A majority of the time, his fans were sweet and understanding.

Gojo honestly had some of the best fans in the world. But you were the best thing that he’d ever had happen to him when it came to his fans. The more he got to know you, the more he became your biggest fan. You being his top donor a month ago changed his life for the better, and now that he was thinking about that, he needed to get the money back to you somehow subtly.

“Bro is staring at his phone like a teenage girl!” a robotic voice sounded in his headphones as someone donated to have their comment read out loud.

The chat was going wild now, asking what he was doing or who he was talking to. Was he smiling like a teenage girl? He didn’t even finish processing through his brain as a meme popped up in the chat on his. Damn, his followers move fast, as several means seem to follow suit.

The text on them varied from "the strongest streamer when Sylus talks!" to "me when Gojo streams," all the way to "me when the pizza rolls are done." Anything that could be added to the goofy someone took of him was added, which was both impressive and slightly embarrassing. From now on, he should refrain from texting you when he is streaming, or he will continue to be turned into a meme.

“Oh, you guys are hilarious,” his voice was thick with sarcasm as he turned his attention back to the screen. “A real bunch of comedians. I have here in the chat.” several laughing face emojis flooded the log, thankfully, making those god-awful memes fade from his view. “All jokes aside, I’m going to play for a little bit longer before I sign off. But I’ll be streaming again tonight. We’ll be perfecting my island on Animal Crossing!” but he could care less about his island. He was much more looking forward to watching you sketch while he played.

Well, Gojo continued streaming. The door to The Rainbow Dragon Café chimed as you walked in. “Hey!” Geto grinned, waving at you from the counter he was leaning over. “Satoru, it’s still streaming.”

“Oh, I know that’s fine, though I wanted to talk to you anyway.” You sat on one of the barstools, pulling your iPad out. “I finished some rough sketches for your logo. I need you to let me know what you think. You could tell me or if you want me to change anything.”

“Oh, cool, I’m eager to see what you designed.”

For the first time in a long time, your hand started shaking as your boss took the iPad, turning it around to look at your very rough sketches. Your nerves were shot to shit, and you weren’t all that happy with the sketches you had produced, which was not normal for you. Every other client you have had in the past always left you bouncing with excitement, eager to see the reaction to the hard work and dedication you had put in. But this lack of confidence was some strange new emotion you hadn’t felt in years.

This all started because some of your boyfriend's followers found your art account.

Satoru wasn’t kidding when he told you some of the fanbase was toxic. They sent you nasty messages telling you that Gojo deserves better. They criticized your artwork over your choice of colors, line art, and handwriting. Anything they saw on your account, they ripped it apart, shredding your confidence into ragged pieces.

The comments didn’t bother you at first. They were so minuscule, and you figured if you gave it a few days, they would give up when you didn’t react or feed into their negativity. That didn’t stop the comments; they continued and grew progressively worse daily.

You were confident in your work. But people were constantly telling you how much you sucked, how you lacked the talent; those words stuck to you like glue, and it didn’t matter how many times you blocked the spam; the word still felt like a hot brand in your mind. You hated to admit it, but those words produced an art block for you made out of fear and self-doubt.

“Oh,” Suguru hummed, pulling you out of the void you were trapped in, “wow.”

“T-They’re rough!” You jumped in your hands, reaching for your tablet. “If you don’t like them, I can fix—”

“Whoa, whoa, hey now, I didn’t say that.” Geto probably pulled your iPad out of your reach. “Nothing even remotely close to that.”

You swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. “T-Then what--uhm,” Geto’s dark eyes filled with concern as you cracked your knuckles anxiously. “What do you think?” The feature of his face softened, but the problem remained.

“I was saying, wow, this is amazing.” his gaze finally dropped back down to your iPad, where he stared fondly at the dragon you had designed. The head was focused towards the audience while the body and tail curled into a circle where the name of the logo had been written. Rough colors of white, teal, and green had been scribbled in. You also had drawn some Chibi versions of Rainbow Dragon for the website or other social media. Geto might like to use it in the future.

“These are just sketches; I can see how amazing the final product will look.” Wheels seem to be turning in your boss's head with the different possibilities of how he could market with the fantastic logos you had designed. “There’s a lot we can do with this. We could make mugs and T-shirts. I could commission a new neon sign to be made.” the way he listed different possibilities, some of the fear on your shoulders. “This is awesome. Do you think you could draw some versions of a Rainbow Dragon?”

“Y-Yeah, of course! I can start working on the final logo too after—” Some comments from your account flashed like a warning sign at the forefront of your mind. “Some more adjustments.”

“Adjustments? But these are great. You can finalize this logo right here. I absolutely love it.” Your chin quivered, and as hard as you tried to hide it, Geto saw through your facade. “Hey, " he said, putting your tablet down, reaching across the counter, and gently taking your hand. What’s wrong? You can talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Please, I have two teenage girls. I know ‘nothing’ definitely means something is going on.”

With a sigh, you focused on the rings on Suguru's hand. “I-I’ve been getting some feedback on my art account.” Calling the cruel, hateful words ‘feedback’ was like sugarcoating the whole situation. “So I haven’t been feeling like my work is the best right now.” there was a flash in Suguru’s eyes as you glanced back up at him, which you could only describe as a protective rage. Like a big brother would give to a younger sibling when he found out that they were being bullied. “But I'm okay for the most part. I'm trying to work through it.”

“I’m going to take a while guess and say that it’s Satoru’s wild fan, girls?” your silence told him everything he needed to know. “It is. Those girls are the worst.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Have you told him or Nanami what’s going on?”

“No, I haven't.”

“You need to tell him.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “it's not like there’s much he can do.”

“Satoru would move mountains for you because you’re his girlfriend. He won’t put up with this shit.”

Technically speaking, you were his girlfriend to him and your friends and family, but nobody else knew that. Both of you agreed that since the last fiasco, lying low had been the best thing for you to do. It really didn’t seem like the best time to stir up drama again.

Plus, they were just comments. It wasn’t like anyone was physically trying to harm you. They were just being rude about your artwork, saying things that obviously weren’t true, but they still hurt. But your relationship was meant to be private until Satoru publicly announced that the two of you were dating; people wouldn’t just be mean about your artwork. You could only imagine what people would say about you. You knew if they hated your artwork this much. You were afraid to see what they would say about pictures of you both together.

You needed to grow some thicker skin to continue your relationship with Satoru and God; you wanted it to continue.

You liked him so much. Never once in your life have you been happier in a relationship. Gojo spoiled rotten, treated you like royalty, and you fell harder for him each passing day. You wanted a strong relationship with him, so you should tell him what was happening. It shouldn't even be a question of whether you should or shouldn't. Good communication is the key to a solid and stable relationship. But you were so hesitant to tell him about it.

Maybe it was because you didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle being in the limelight. But being in the public eye happened when people being in a relationship with someone as famous as Gojo, as popular as he was, meant that their life would be out in the open, even if he tried to keep his personal life separate from streaming. This was just what came with the territory of being a popular streamer. Today, anybody can find out who people are through their secrets. With time, you will be able to ignore the comments. They would be something that didn’t bother you anymore, plus you didn’t want Satoru worrying about you.

You were strong, and you didn’t need him to protect you.

Inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth before meeting Suguru’s concerned gaze. So much came out of that one Q&A opportunity with Gojo. One thirty-minute question session turned masturbation session, leading you to some of the best moments of your life. You had a boyfriend girls dreamed of having. You made lots of new friends, and life was good! With more passing time, you would slowly get back into the drawing flow. Ultimately, all the good things that had happened outweighed the bad.

“You need to tell him,” Suguru said again, glancing at his phone screen as he scrolled, anger increasing as he stared at it.

“I’ll tell him soon, " you confessed, sighing heavily.

“Tell him what?” warm hands squeezed your shoulders.

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden contact, but the second soft lips thrust against your cheek relaxed. “Toru! You scared the shit out of me.” smooth, white-haired tickled your cheek, his chin pressed against your shoulder.”I told Suguru I would show you the rough draft for the new logo I designed.”

“Oh?” Gojo peeked over your shoulder, staring at the screen. “Is that so?” You gave your boss a pleading look, a silent request that he not tell your boyfriend what was going on. He sighed before he tapped on his phone.

“Yeah, she was.” Gojo beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Do you wanna see?”

“I want to see my girlfriend's amazing work!”

“Here.”

You shut your eyes, humming softly as you leaned into the warmth that radiated off of Satoru’s body. The smell of clean linen and musk relaxed every muscle in your body as you felt your boyfriend shift to take the iPad from Suguru. For a split second, Gojo was confused to see an Instagram account on the screen of Suguru’s phone instead of a sketch, but he didn’t question it once he saw the cute mochi avatar he knew belonged to you.

“Oh, cool!” he clicked on the first post, which was a logo design you had made for a local arcade. The cute Chibi pinball machine was colored in vibrant shades, and your line art made everything stand out. “That’s my girl! Look at the talent! The lime art, the shading!”

Shading? Line art? You just drew a sketch for Suguru. Your eyes went wide as you straightened. You turned to look at your boss, finding his face transfixed on Gojo. He wasn’t looking at your iPad but Suguru’s cellphone. His thumbs moved over the screen, scrolling towards the comment section. Every muscle in his arm tensed as he read what people were saying.

‘This is so sloppy!’

‘Ppl paid 4 this shit? I would ask 4 a refund ☠️’

‘u should get a real job 😂’

“Satoru,” you tried reaching for the phone, only to have Gojo pull away, stepping away from the counter as he read more.

‘eew her did they draw their avatar as a chibi mochi because that’s the-strongest-streamers favorite food? 🤢 desperate much?’

‘Slut’

‘Whore!’

‘Gojo deserves better than your talentless ass 🙃’

The further he scrolled, the nastier the comments became. The muscles in his forearm twitched, and it was the first time you saw an expression on his features that you had never seen before. It was rage.

“How long?” He asked, a voice as cold as a winter storm.

“What?”

“How long has this been going on for?” Satoru gestured his chin towards the phone, which was still in his hand. “How long.”

You wanted to shrink into yourself so you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he fumed with anger. Hesitation held onto your tongue, preventing you from speaking. How would he react if you were to tell him, to be honest, about what was happening? Would he be angry with you for not telling him sooner? Or would he go on his livestream and call his fans out? It was those uncertainties that prevented you from speaking.

The chill of cold metal brushed over the back of your hand as Geto gently squeezed your trembling hand. With a glance in his direction, you felt some of the air you had been holding inside your lungs escape as he nodded, dark bangs swaying with his movements. He was right—he had been right since the start.

You needed to be honest.

“The comments started after our trip to Sendai,” you confessed, chewing on the inside of your cheek to the nearly painful point.

You waited for him to explode and ask what you were thinking. But that never came. Because your boyfriend was brilliant despite his smugness and ego, the second he read those comments, his mind began racing with different options and outcomes if he did certain things. His mind was working at one hundred twenty percent, and finally, he devised the perfect plan.

“We need Nanami.” He stated bluntly, as if he’d been telling you what he had planned as he dialed a number on his phone. It rang once before the other line was answered. “Heya Nanamin! So I need you to do me a huge favor.” muffled voices came out from the other line. “Why do you assume I'm always in trouble?” More muffled voices, sounding slightly annoyed. “Okay—yes, there was the Sendai incident, and the slime on the trai—okay! Shit, don't list them off. That's not even what I’m calling for.” Gojo dropped his arm over you, pulling you flush against his side. “I need you to tell Tokyo Comic-Con I'll be there with a plus-one with me. Uh-huh yeah, thanks a bunch.”

“What was that all about?” You asked, watching as Gojo quickly typed something on his phone. Your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the screen, jaw-dropping. “Toru! Why the hell did you send me eight hundred dollars?!”

“Oh, I'm giving you back the money you donated to my stream the night we started talking.” He sighed, rubbing his neck. “Well, more like—”

“More like what?” You did not like the look on his face as he smirked.

“More like hiring you to redesign my merch and channel.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

LSIAH Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO):

@witchbybirth @zoeyflower @missmuffinr @kalulakunundrum @matchalatte06 @aussiemeerkat @gojoful @ilovebattison @getoloverr @dottedhalfnotes @sonicsolos @manyno @candy-s72 @smolbeanzzz @ya9amicide @strychnynegirl @jaeminaur

222 notes · View notes

pingnova · 1 year ago

Text

I met a quiet old man while browsing the plant books and accessories at the trading post this spring who asked what I was looking for. Most white people came to look at the jewelry and the expensive woolen blankets, so I guess it was a little unusual how closely I was examining all of the books on plants.

I held up a deck of native plant playing cards and said I was a forager, looking for more guides on local plants. He nodded thoughtfully and said there was a lot of medicine in wild plants. I smiled awkwardly, not sure why he was talking to me. But I reciprocated: "What are you looking for?"

He said he wasn't sure. He pointed to a few books on flowers, not necessarily edible vegetables. "They're beautiful," he said unsurely.

I nodded to encourage him. "Plants aren't just for eating, they're for appreciating too. We need beauty and nutrition."

Now he smiled, mostly hidden by his mustache, and told me he had a community garden plot he had tended for the past thirty years. Wow, what dedication.

Abruptly he says he has one year to live. He's at the trading post to find parting gifts for his son and grandchildren. He says this all very calmly, he's clearly been preparing for some time. And I stare at him because he seems so well and I've just met him. The idea of him dead is disturbing and shameful.

"Oh," is all I can say.

"I think this year I'll fill it with flowers."

He says it so warmly. I remember he was talking about his beloved community garden patch. I'm filled with heaviness and disbelief that he is soon dying and here wasting time talking to some random about growing flowers. But I manage to stammer something.

"It can't all be vegetables. Soft and beautiful things are important too. Especially in hard times."

Now he fully turns to smile at me. Again in my shock I think he's too content. Shouldn't he be raging? Crying, screaming, anything? But his mustache is white, he mentioned an adult son and grandkids, he seems well enough now and reasonably confident in his plan for a full season of flower gardening. Rapid-fire I conclude he's already done all of this and doesn't need it from me. Right now he's just discussing how important and sacred plants are with a likeminded young stranger.

He finally says, "Flowers are a soft landing after a long battle."

I choke out some kind of agreement so I don't accidentally cry. I wish him some kind of luck and awkwardly crabwalk away. I'm not really the king of social interaction even when its not emotionally loaded.

I bought my cards and books on vegetables and looked at the lone few on flowers he had been perusing. I'm in my twenties and don't plan on dying anytime soon, but how much time do I spend being as fast, efficient, and artless as possible in order to "survive" when that survival is never even in question. I have anxiety, I have ptsd, I'm an activist. All necessary and inescapable works of life. But this man had a season to live, death certain, and wanted to spend it growing flowers.

I went back to the register with a small book on flowers. When I'm hunting a forest to learn the native vegetables, I no longer ignore the blooms. If the battle is long, I want to grow flowers too.

#i think abt that man all the time 😭🥺#personal

1K notes · View notes

ktownshizzle · 3 months ago

Text

Wild & Free (Teaser)

Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Vegas, something that his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of every second of his life being planned by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Notes: What can I say? We got all the tropes in this bad boy, because I don’t know when I can write again, so let’s put everything in this sucker and call it a day! This is canon-ish. I included some real-life events during this period, but it may or may not be loosely rearranged to fit the narrative - just go with it. Ginger Yoongi, because this is the LOOK I don’t give a damn what haters say. I have not written in a decade and this is me attempting to pick things back up, I hope you like it xo

BTW, the teaser scene is inspired by that leaked video of the BTS tour crew’s private party in Vegas. It’s here if you want to see it. Enjoy! xo

Read the teaser under the cut!

!!!! Edit: Read Part 1 here !!!!

P.S. Leave a comment to be part of the taglist 🙂

***

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you. On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you were wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

***

WHAT DO WE THINK? Join the taglist by leaving a comment so I can let you know when this story drops.

Tag: @jajabro @yooglefics

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #myg #gingeryoongi #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #myg x y/n

299 notes · View notes

thr0wnawayy · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 429 has been my Dabi's Dance

I can't stop smiling.

I wanted to start off by saying thank you. Not to Hori, but to you all. Every last one of you in these tags for your contributions. Be it analysis, re-reads, fan works or simply your perspectives. I look forward to seeing what you will make in the future.

So, Thank you.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. MHA was always in the background of my life and I hated it. I don't watch anime and yet still MHA related media would make it's way onto my socials in all it's obnoxious forms. This went on for years.

And then suddenly, it stopped. It seemed like MHA's craze had died down, I'd still see it from time to time through merchandise but never to the consistency it had prior.

That was until Dabi's Dance was published and the net went wild.

I knew a few things about Endeavor from my past exposure, he was universally hated and abused his kids and wife (to the point she scalded her son in a fit of psychosis).

Deciding I had nothing better to do, I found myself searching to see what kind of consequences would befall such a monstrous character.

Would he fall like Icarus, be torn apart by the public, how would the family he ruined react to the news?.

And then, nothing. No punishment, no reaction. Just dead air.

I recall that my face dropped internally. My blank expression mirrored my phone screen's sterile nature, as it displayed the information in front of me.

He got away with it. So I did some digging and it got so much worse.

Bakugo's evasion of any consequences or damages, coddled and shielded by Hori's inability to go through on anything.

Hawks who murdered a near crippled man on a hypothesis, for the mere crime of having the "wrong" quirk, for not giving up, for being "unlucky"

Aizawa, Hori's little mouthpiece. who decides to play judge, jury and executioner with the futures of students he's supposed to be teaching. Only for the Nedzu and the narrative to allow him, his friends turned into lapdogs that agree to the letter.

The Commission who strive to keep theirrotting husk of a system alive through assasins, child soldiers and indoctrination.

Even if it's gears must be lubricated with blood, even if it means lying to the world and having them clean up the mess. They MUST stay on top, the illusion must be upheld.

I just couldn't fathom how this was seen as a good thing.

And somewhere along the way I began to feel something akin to hate. Not your typical ire, one powered by anger, no.

I wanted to see how low Hori would go, just how horrifically he would mangle a series that everyone had once praised.

I wanted to witness what wonders a jaded community would create, to show what they were capable of (to create and understand MHA in a manner Hori wishes he could even emulate a fraction of)

I wished to see your own expressions of love and hatred.

The thought of witnessing the breaking point, the dust settling to expose all the glaring flaws and infested wounds of MHA. It buzzed in my brain like electricity.

The idea that when all was said and done, you, the people would do what Hori couldn't/wouldn't and forge the bones and salvagble bits of MHA into a story worth remembering.

One where abusers are punished for their crimes instead of rewarded

Where victims can have a voice, feel and grow, carve their own paths and move forward from their trauma.

Where the implications of MHA's rotting and disingenuous society get explored instead of swept under the rug

Where people get a chance.

I waited eagerly for the day it would all fall apart.

So, do you know what I did when I logged onto the tag and saw your posts!?.

I laughed, the shrill giggle in the back of my throat quickly surging into an almost manic cackle. It was like lightning, vindicating and sobering all at once. My face was stretched to it's absolute limits with how wide my grin was. I could almost hear the shattering of MHA's last bit of integrity and I loved it.

The realization MHA's greatest threat was the author himself, It's one that I grasped long ago (as far back as the Dark Dekiru Arc) and I'm sure most of you understood this as well.

But to see that more of you are starting to get it, to realize there's no going back. That as the curtains draw near and the lights begin to dim, there is no other side here. Violence begets violence and Hori's gone past the event horizon.

It feels, hopeful. Perhaps we can build something worth saving.

It's been a wild ride so far and it's still ongoing. Hori's time is long over, it has been for a while now, so I suppose what I'm asking Is:

Now It's Your Turn, what's your play?

_______________________________________

Update:

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

youtube

#bnha critical #anti bakugo katsuki #anti endeavor #mha critical #anti bakugou #anti eraserhead #anti aizawa #Youtube

112 notes · View notes

starbeltconstellation · 2 months ago

Note

I don’t think they are bad and some survived order 66 Quinlan Vos was one of them. But I do believe they lost their way by the end of the clone wars because most lost their way or watered down their beliefs becoming to caught up in image and pandering to the senate (palps *cough*) even yoda said basically that a dark shroud surround them (Sith made) but they made themselves susceptible to it with arrogance, becoming inflexible, and a strange combo of attachment and detachment. Even mace windu was attached to the republic which is one of the reasons he was so defensive and disliked Anakin he saw him as a threat to his republic.

I’m not trying to hate on the Jedi just make sure that in discussing the Jedi we remember the good and bad. The Jedi did a lot of good, they made one of the longest major peace times the galaxy had ever seen, that’s 1000 years of peace time after ending the Sith war. And actually Luke skywalker, Ezra Bridger, Ahsoka (rebellion), and season 4 Kanan were prime examples of what the Jedi were originally. I just think when palpatine started pulling strings and corrupting everything to take power it made slow brewing Jedi problems 10x worse as some Jedi like Barriss Offee’s master mixed up avoiding negative attachment with being cold and callous because while a Jedi master should avoid “possessive” attachment especially in a way that would hold their student back they should have a good bond with them because emotional bonds are one of the pillars of trust.

-that’s my take, I’m not sure what you meant by no Jedi haters though. So if this crosses your line then I’m sorry I can see myself out cause I don’t want to start a conflict 😅

Hello, anon. 👋

Firstly, I just want to DEEPLY apologize for the long wait in my response. 😅🤦‍♀️ I try not to get behind on asks, but life has been crazy for me at the moment, and especially with longer asks like yours, I really want to take my time and give a good and in depth response.

Now, just right off the bat: I don’t mind discussing things. As long as it doesn’t get nasty and full of insults. So I’m not about to bite your head off.

In fact, I am going to take the time to use your ask to refute all of these critical/anti Jedi points, proving how most of it is Palpatine’s propaganda that the galactic citizens/SW fandom has grown to believe because it’s easier to have a big bad scapegoat (ie; the Jedi boogie man) than for galactic citizens to grapple with the fact that they themselves are also a part of the problem because THEY are the ones who vote in politicians in the Senate (who are a lot corrupt, except like a handful like Mon Mothma/Bail Organa/Riyo Chuchi/Padmé/etc. And even Padmé wasn’t a complete saint like a lot of fans think, since she purposely hid Anakin’s Tusken massacre just because she didn’t want to give up her new hot murder husband who was obsessively adoring over her/loved her), and THEY are the ones who also got the most complacent, are they not? After all… if the fandom blames the JEDI… why didn’t the CITIZENS clock anything wrong until suddenly an Empire was telling them to hand over all their freedoms or die?

It’s really easy to sit back and say what you would’ve done in the Jedi’s position, because the audience has more information than they do. What Dooku and Qui-Gon told them is the equivalent of being told they saw a unicorn (Sith) in the wild. It’s not that out there that there’d be some doubts from the Council, and people seem to forget that the Council STILL said they’d look into it. But they aren’t magic. They can’t just snap their fingers and see that Palpatine is the Sith Lord. Especially with the Darkness cloaking their Force senses. I think it’s kinda… gross? To blame them for something Palpatine was causing (the cloaking Darkness) that was literally part of the plan to genocide them. Just a thought, but maybe that should be Palpatine’s and Anakin’s fault, where it belongs? Lol. Sorry if I sound a little snippy, it’s just this is a tired and running around in circles argument (although I do think your ask is a genuine one, which is why I’m taking the time to answer it and perhaps if not change YOUR mind, then change someone else’s that might read this. I’m trying to reach more across the aisle here, because both sides I’ll admit have moments where they only want to be defensive and not explain their positions).

It’s funny how people always point out that the Jedi missed brewing corruption (they totally knew about it and tried to fight against it how they could. But just like in real life, I’m unsure what people expect from them. To strut into the Senate and threaten/murder the politicians into submission? Because ya know… that was kinda the red flag Anakin gave off with that “They should be made to!” line to Padmé. Just saying. 🤷‍♀️ Just like anyone, Jedi know the politicians of the Republic are slowly being corrupt (just like MOST politicians in real life, and you don't see everyone condemning all US citizens because we don't go clean them out like assassins or something), but there isn't anything they can do about that unless you expect them to go in and wave their lightsabers around to threaten the politicians into submission. As if Palpatine wouldn't immediately twist that into his favor to say they were "trying to take over the Republic". (And oh wait—he did that in the movies! Funny how that works, huh?)

What I think is interesting about you and about a lot of Jedi fans (including LH, who is the writer of The Acolyte) is that you THINK you’re being “fair” to the Jedi, but you’re kinda… not? 🤷‍♀️😅 And I’m not saying that as an insult. I’m saying it because it’s true.

Let me explain: There are rabid anti Jedi fans known as the infamous Karen Travis’s who is basically a rapid and foaming at the mouth Jedi anti who believes they “got what was coming to them.🤢🥶” LH on the other hand (at least in HER head), views herself as Jedi CRITICAL (which is something you clearly view yourself as as well. And there’s nothing wrong with being Jedi critical. The problem is that a lot of times this “criticism” becomes condescending, whether intentional or not, despite maybe the person’s best intentions). And while there is a little bit of a difference there, it’s not as stark a line as fans would try to convince us pro Jedi’s to believe.

As I mentioned to someone else in my other ask: there are plenty of fair criticisms about the Jedi that I can acknowledge: the Shimi thing, for one, which is I think just a bad symptom of GL’s writing being more “metaphorical” than literal. Shimi HAS to stay on Tatooine because Anakin eventually HAS to murder the Tuskens in cold blood so GL can tell the story he wants to tell of how Anakin can’t let go, and so the Jedi are never given the opportunity to do what I truly BELIEVE they would’ve done, which is go back and free her, at least for the peace of mind of one of their newest initiate. The plot literally physically bars them from doing so.

And even THIS is not without its flaws, because they would ONLY have wiggle room to free Shimi after the heat of TPM problems had died down where they had time to do so… while walking past/avoiding eye contact with all of Shimi’s slave neighbors, because as specified before—The Jedi have no jurisdiction in the Outer Rim, and you bet your ass if they freed all those slaves and started a war with the Hutts with their little 10,000 strong army, the Republic would take one look and go “Lol, good luck with that,” and not help them at all, which would be basically suicide for the Order to try and accomplish on abolishment of slavery on the Outer Rim all on their own in the TRILLIONS of people in the galaxy. They do not have the MAN POWER for that. Not without the Senate army/clones. So how can they be blamed for this? WHY are one of the “space minorities” of the galaxy being blamed for something that should be the POLITICIANS’S job? Can you not see the double standard here? Genuinely asking, anon, because it’s always baffled me.

People want the Jedi to do something about it? Get on the Senate’s ass about it then—the REAL people who are responsible for all of the shit going wrong in the Outer Rim while they line their pockets and kiss up to clueless galactic citizens for votes come election time. THEY are the ones that should be responsible for the problems of an ENTIRE galaxy—not a small little minority group (which I’ve already come to realize that the Jedi are. They are a culture/religion/family, and 10,000 is but a drop in the ocean of the galaxy. They are so small in the grand scheme of things that it’s SCARY when considering how easy it was for Palpatine to lead them to almost total annihilation) that try and try and TRY as hard as they can, which is apparently somehow NEVER enough, for the galactic citizens AND the SW fandom itself.

And why is that? Why is it so HARD for SW fandom to relate to them? Why does LH (who I’m sure in her head BELIEVES she’s as progressive as they come, just as I genuinely believe you had the best intentions when reaching across the aisle to send me this ask, but at the end of the day still comes across frankly exhausting and a little condescending when you pick out the “good Jedi blorbos” who are ones that deserve to live and don’t have to be dehumanized as “emotionless/cold/callous” like you just did with Luminara just because Luminara chose to grieve in a way you and Anakin and many other rabid Anakin fans/anti Jedi’s view as lesser than) view the Jedi as some type of “space cops” who are “oppressing 🙄” the Sith as a representation of her religious trauma that she is clearly projecting onto them as something completely separate than what the Jedi Culture actually is? Why does she view them as “emotionally repressed” and “almost catholic-like”, and views the fucking SITH (literal SPACE NAZIS 😭🤦‍♀️) as a representation for her persecution as a gay woman?

It’s because—just like MOST SW fans in the US—she cannot fathom a culture outside of the lens of western philosophy. In her mind, the Jedi aren’t a “real 🙄🤢” family. In HER mind, the Jedi aren’t necessarily evil, but she still believes those “poor little culty Jedi 😔💔🙄” didn’t see they were ‘sewing their own destruction’. (Which is blaming them. It’s BLAMING the victims of genocide, and it’s to this day the most disgusting thing I will always remember about the show’s “your actions will cause the destruction of every Jedi in the galaxy” quote that made Twitter go wild with genocide apologia galore).

I’m not gonna repeat everything in the post I made to the other anon (this ask response is long enough already), but I’ll link it here in case you want to read it, because I do have some examples screenshotted of certain SW fandom dehumanizing the Jedi and showing genocide apologia, which proves that pro Jedi’s critique/defensiveness for the Jedi Order and their culture isn’t an overreaction or without basis, because it proves that blaming the Jedi for their own genocide is the NORM, even if people won’t admit so outright (still can’t believe The Acolyte just outright SAID it. I’m not gonna rub fans’s of the show’s faces in it, but because of that line alone, I’m SO glad that show was cancelled. Anti Jedi propaganda is already bad enough).

Also, I’m sorry to tell you this, anon, but the Mace Windu thing is just straight up wrong. I have never understood this Mace thing with the fandom. People act like Mace was personally bullying Anakin every damn day. Mace didn’t even hate Anakin. Just because Mace was a little stern with Anakin and didn't worship the ground he walked on didn't mean he hated/disliked him/was jealous of him (a frankly childish notion, in my opinion). They both just had different views over how to be a Jedi and in battle strategies during the war. It was never personal with Mace. Anakin MADE it personal, because he always took not being told "yes" personally, like it was a slight against him. He didn’t see Anakin as a threat to the Republic until literally the last free day of democracy when he looked at him and saw a giant shatterpoint all around Anakin. I think that would give any Jedi pause. Lol.

Mace was a fine Jedi who treated Anakin just fine. Just because he didn’t worship the ground Anakin walked on or treated him like God’s gift doesn’t mean that Mace was a bad person or Anakin was a “poor little guy” getting bullied by him. The thing with Mace refusing Anakin a seat on the Council is overblown. Frankly: Anakin didn’t DESERVE a seat on the Council. He might’ve been a powerful Jedi, but he was still hot headed and reckless and still had a lot to learn. And his temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way did him no favors either (look, I LOVE Anakin, but I’m not gonna be delusional about his faults, okay? Most of his problems were caused because he built them up out of thin air. He built up this rivalry with Mace in his head, when Mace was busy with his own life. Mace was not “out to get Anakin” or something. That’s—as kindly as I can say—something children tell themselves when angry at parents who tell them “no”, which Mace did a lot with Anakin). And I’m not gonna lie, anon. People have always seemed extra hard on Mace specifically, and while it might not be all of it, I think there’s a part of racism mixed in there with a proud black Jedi that isn’t afraid to stand up to the white and emo and hot future serial killer in the making (my hot Anakin! 🥰🥰😂). I’m not saying YOU specifically are being racist, but I’m just pointing out something that I’ve always felt reeked around the fandom opinion of Mace (more from the SW YouTube dudebro side of the fandom, but still).

I’m not gonna go and explain a play by play of all my points, because I got in a argument/discussion with someone on YouTube the other day (even though I know it’s bad for my blood pressure 😬😤😂), and I feel like the points I made there are perfect as a main response for this ask, so I’m going to place the screenshots here. This whole online debate came about when I was watching a SW lore video on Leia visiting Anakin’s grave after the ROTJ celebration and telling him she doesn’t forgive him, and one of the commentators called her a “brat”, which pissed me off. Lol. But anyway, we’ve been going back and forth the past few days, and I’ve basically made a mini pro Jedi manifesto, so I think all of the screenshots will answer most of your questions and also refute them to show how they are inaccurate and more of a fandom opinion that’s only come about because fans like Anakin and want to twist themselves into knots to blame everyone for his problems but him.

Here are all of the online person’s screenshots: you’ll notice how eventually he tries to justify Anakin killing the younglings as a “mercy”. 🥶🥶🤢 Yikes.

Here are my responses:

Damn. Apparently there’s a screenshot limit. 😭 I’ll copy paste the rest:

Leia had every right to come and get closure if she needed to. Anakin personally tortured her himself after all. She has a personal stake in this through being tortured by their own FATHER that Luke doesn't have. Whether she wanted to go to make sure the person she viewed as a monster was dead, or to try and get some closure from what Luke had told her, it was within her rights to do so. She understood EVERYTHING perfectly. She knew who Anakin had been for years before the last five minutes of his death, and that was someone who'd terrorized the galaxy.

Lol, Anakin wasn't "fulfilling the will of The Force" as his reign on the Dark Side for 20 something years. He fulfilled the will of the Force when he finally got off his ass and killed Palpatine to end the last of the Sith. It's a copout to pretend any of his other actions were anything but his own choice, otherwise his 'redemption' means squat. She doesn't owe him anything just because he stopped the horror by killing Palpatine. It's the LEAST he could've done. You seem to believe that one action somehow should buy Anakin forgiveness in the eyes of all of his victims, and if they don't forgive him, then they're "brats" or something. Redemption doesn't work like that. You don't do the right thing because you'll get something out of it. You do it to be selfless and because it's simply the right thing to do. And I can tell you that Anakin would probably disagree with your opinion on Leia being a "brat" himself once he was back on the Light Side, because the whole point is that he'd be REPENTANT. Not being arrogant and expecting blind forgiveness for things that are quite frankly unforgivable.

Luke's forgiveness is a GIFT. It is NOT something that has to be the norm, and Leia is no less because she chooses not to forgive Anakin. She has every right to never view him as her father till her dying days.

Anakin had EVERYTHING to do with the explosion of Alderaan. This BS certain fans spout of "that was Tarkin" is nonsense. Anakin had agency. He could've tried to stop Tarkin or tried to leave the Empire way before that moment. Just because it was hard, he chose not to. EVERYONE on board the Death Star that weren't prisoners are responsible for the destruction of Alderaan. And yes, that includes Anakin. As I said before, Tarkin would only be given the highest sentence in court because he chose to order the planet destroyed. But Anakin would still be charged right along with him in a court of law. Just because Anakin had a traumatic life, doesn't excuse the things he's done. That's like saying a school shooter/serial killer has no agency over killing their victims just because they had a “hard life.” It’s a frankly illogical argument.

Anakin as 'Vader' could've choked Tarkin out right there. Who's gonna stop him? He's survived dozens of enemies in the comics. Him not having "authority" is a copout. Anakin was given plenty of authority in the Empire. He was just still Palpatine's lapdog at the end of the day. Hell—he could've grew a spine and left the Empire years BEFORE that moment. He does not get a free pass for "following orders".

Lol, Anakin does NOT have borderline personality disorder. That’s a fanon theory. That is NOT actually canon and George never said that. GL says Anakin fell because of his greed for power to never feel weak like he did as a child and because he was afraid to let go. The Jedi didn't fail him. He failed THEM. He's the one who fucking genocided them after all. Their entire culture is literally mental empathy because they're space wizards. There were times when Yoda and Obi-Wan all but BEG Anakin to open his mouth and say what's wrong, and he either refuses or is so vague that there's no way to glean what his main problem is (when Anakin talks to Yoda about Padmé and won't just ADMIT it's about Padmé). People can't help you if you don't meet them halfway. Anakin refused to do that. That's on him. Not on any of his victims. And even if he DID have borderline personality disorder (which is just a fanon theory), he'd STILL be responsible for his actions. It's amazing how much fans blame everyone else under the sun than the man who choked his wife. Lol.

I don't think Anakin is emotionless or incapable of care or goodness. That's the whole point of Luke, after all. I simply deny not giving him the agency to make his own decisions. He WAS a monster. What else do you call killing little kids who beg for your help? But the point of Luke is that Anakin ALWAYS had the opportunity to turn from his actions and be better. He just didn't find the spine until ROTJ. And that's great! He turned back to the light and his soul found salvation. But he is NOT redeemed in the eyes of anyone but Luke. It's laughable to think otherwise or that he wouldn't have been executed if he'd survived. And it's illogical to blame his victims and call them "brats" just because they won't forgive someone who was once basically space Hitler.

Despite what you may think, I love Anakin's character and the tragedy of him. I love that he found salvation in the end. But I DESPISE treating him like a child who didn't know what he was doing. He knew. He was selfish for twenty years. LUKE is who taught him how to be selfless. Everything else is on him. You can't call him the greatest 'redemption' of all time and then blame everyone else for his actions.

Because then what is there to redeem?

Nothing.

You can't have both. Pick one. 🤷‍♀️

What does it matter that Anakin as 'Vader' knew that Palpatine wouldn't praise Tarkin for such a cruel and useless thing in destroying a planet just to look a little tough? That doesn't mean shit. Just because Tarkin eventually gets what was coming to him, doesn't mean that Anakin couldn't have sped up Tarkin's demise right there. Good actions don't work like that: "Oh, it didn't really matter that he didn't try to save Alderaan! Because in the end Tarkin gets his karma!" (Anakin gets his karma too, by the way. You could argue from his burns or the fact that the only way he can 'redeem' himself is through dying by killing Palpatine).

I'm not sure what argument your making on if Anakin could've "talked" Tarkin into another way to get Leia to talk to betray the Rebels. I'm arguing that if he—or YOU—expected Leia's "forgiveness", then it implies there should've been some level where he could've done something different. I'm arguing he could've left the Empire years earlier if he'd grown a spine, or he could've Force choked Tarkin out right there and got him and Leia out of there somehow. Who's gonna stop him? No lowly soldier on board the Death Star could stand in his way. Palpatine would be miles away at that point.

He could've done something different. Fans just argue he was "helpless" in the sense that they don't want Anakin to be selfless to give anything up. The excuse that he was "stuck" and "had nothing left" is BS. Deep down, Anakin knows if he found Obi-Wan and repented that Obi-Wan would take him back. There's a whole arc about it in a comic when he's trying to bleed a Kyber Krystal. He just doesn't do it because he's too depressed and selfish to admit he screwed up his own life. He pretended for 20 years everyone betrayed him, when really it was the other way around, and that was too horrific to contemplate, so he pretended he was another person, when clearly he's still the same guy, only horrifically injured under the mask. He can only admit the truth after Luke offers him blind forgiveness.

It doesn't really matter that psychologists have "diagnosed" Anakin. He isn't a real person. He's a character that was written with a narrative purpose by GL. And GL was clear when he says the reasons Anakin does what he does is because he's greedy for power to not feel weak again and also because he's too afraid to let go. The writer of the character knows better actually. Isn't that what SW fans always say with GL?

Jedi are literally space Buddhists that GL describes as "empathetic space monks." Part of their culture is literally to be connected to all life around them. It's laughable to say they wouldn't understand a "simple person" in the galaxy. That's literally what they're taught to do in the Temple. Before the war, they were Advisors/ mediators.

Anakin had a fondness for Qui-Gon, but he did trust Obi-Wan. Maybe not enough to mention Padmé (he didn't trust ANYONE with that except apparently Rex, and l'm almost certain Rex found out on accident, because Anakin definitely doesn't care about Rex as much as he did Ahsoka), but he DID trust him. And he cared for Obi-Wan greatly. Just not more than his own wants and needs apparently. But that's true when it comes to Anakin choosing himself over all of his friends and family at the end of ROTS. The Jedi would've helped Anakin if he'd just ASKED without being so damn vague. Maybe they wouldn't have let him stay in the Order, but it's not like he'd be kicked out the door immediately. But Anakin wanted his cake and to eat it too, so he didn't tell him about his wife because he wanted to keep the power of being a Jedi. And guess what? The Jedi don't OWE one man the power to change their entire culture just for him.

There isn't anything wrong with having a set of rules for beliefs. Priests can't marry either. That doesn't make them “emotionless robots” that are “incapable of understanding human emotion” or understanding a struggling man's thoughts. As I said before, the Jedi cannot help Anakin if he doesn't ASK. You cannot condemn them in one breath for not helping him, while at the same time saying that it's fine Anakin didn't explain his problems with them, because they should've just been able to read his mind. It's hypocritical.

Obi-Wan had no other options but to follow Padmé to find Anakin. He NEEDED to find Anakin, because Anakin was fucking dangerous at that point in time, and had just helped genocide an entire culture. Not exactly father/husband material at that point. And even then, in the movies Obi-Wan doesn't reveal himself until it's clear Anakin isn't going to listen to Padmé. It's ludicrous to think if Padme kept arguing with Anakin that Anakin still wouldn't have strangled her in anger in that moment. Again, it appears somehow you're trying to put off this transgression he's committed on someone else again, and I cannot fathom why. It makes him far less interesting that way if he was just a "poor guy" who couldn't control himself.

What I find interesting is you can admit that Anakin doesn't have the information the audience does, which is why he thinks Palpatine is kind and is his friend, but you show no grace towards the Jedi, calling them "arrogant" for not realizing the Sith had slowly popped back up, as if they are somehow supposed to have the audience's information. The truth is that they don't.

Just like anyone, they know the politicians of the Republic are slowly being corrupt (just like MOST politicians in real life, and you don't see everyone condemning all US citizens because we don't go clean them out like assassins or something), but there isn't anything they can do about that unless you expect them to go in and wave their lightsabers around to threaten the politicians into submission. As if Palpatine wouldn't immediately twist that into his favor to say they were "trying to take over the Republic". (And oh wait—he did that in the movies! 🤷‍♀️ Funny how that works, huh?)

It doesn't matter if Anakin didn't "want" to kill kids/the Tuskens/betray Mace and his Jedi friends. What does that matter? What does it matter if he felt bad while doing it if he still DOES it? You wouldn't say a school shooter wasn't responsible for their actions just because they were sobbing the whole time they went around slaughtering everyone in the school. Anakin's responsible for his own actions, and just because he might feel "bad" doesn't let him off the hook. Even when he was masquerading as 'Vader.' Who cares if he was miserable 24/7? l’ll tell you his victims sure didn't when he decapitated them with his lightsaber or snapped their spines.

I'm not arguing about the people that forgave Anakin. I'm arguing over condemning people as "brats" that don't. (I personally think it's a copout to have Leia forgive him after reading some diary, so l'm glad at the least apparently new canon has her taking her entire life to get there). My point is there is nothing that makes Anakin's victims any less if they choose not to forgive him, because forgiveness is a GIFT. It isn't something you're owed. It's funny fans keep pretending he's owed that while condemning all of the Jedi as "arrogant", because I can't think of anything more arrogant than a man who was formerly one of the worst monsters in the galaxy thinking he's "owed" forgiveness. And just as I mentioned before, the Anakin after he came back to the Light wouldn't even agree with such a notion. He may ASK. But he wouldn't call Leia a "brat" for it. It's ridiculous to think that after the horror he'd personally committed to her.

I don't really care what your thoughts are on "Darth Mouse" as that's not what this conversation is about. GL describes Palpatine as the Devil, which is why Anakin can be turned back to the Light and Palpatine can't. But there is NO DOUBT that Anakin as 'Darth Vader' is seen as 'space Hitler' throughout internet culture (the Empire/the Sith is LITERALLY based off of Nazis). If you'd take a moment to google it you would see it's already a huge staple of internet culture. That doesn't make him emotionless or without goodness (he saved Luke, after all), but it IS still true. I don't see what's so hard about acknowledging his atrocities. He was a cruel and horrible monster for most of his life, and it only makes Luke's actions all the more miraculous when he somehow gets through to Anakin and makes him consider a heel face turn in the final hour.

Lol, honestly I also think you're a pretty strange person calling one of Anakin's torture victims a "brat" just because she didn't forgive him like dear saintly Luke. There is no shame in being kind like Luke (it helped him win after all), but there is NOTHING that makes Leia a bad person for not forgiving Anakin. I think you don't seem to contemplate just how BAD that is. Her FATHER tortured her for apparently HOURS. We have no idea just what he said and did to her during this time. He could've taunted her, for all we know. And I know, I know, you might say "He didn't know she was his daughter! 🤪🤪 " But that's not the POINT. The point is how he was cruel, and only seemed care when he realized she was his flesh and blood. Anakin's lucky Leia didn't spit on his grave. Because she WASN'T consumed by her anger to the point it was unhealthy. She just didn't forgive him and never viewed him as her father as long as she lived (because BAIL ORGANA was her father in all but blood). And that is within her rights. As I keep stating, Anakin is not OWED anything. His actions at the end of ROTJ are the LEAST he can do. He should be GRATEFUL to the opportunity Luke gave him and how Obi-Wan and Yoda were saintly enough to forgive him and help him become a Force ghost, because he quite frankly didn't deserve it. But salvation isn't always about what people deserve. Just like forgiveness, it's a gift. Anakin received a gift from Luke and Obi-Wan—but he is NOT owed it from Leia. And she isn't a "brat" for not giving it to him. It is important to stick to one's beliefs and principles. Leia stuck by hers. That takes courage and strength. She loved Luke but never agreed with him about Anakin.

And I also never called Anakin as 'Vader' a maniac. I called him basically a monster. Because he WAS. He helped kill thousands of people for Palpatine on the regular and continued to help genocide Jedi over the years, while ALSO still killing more kids over the years a handful of times too, even if he usually tried to avoid it (the Kenobi Show when he purposely snapped a kid's neck in front of his mother and dragged him through the street like garbage). Ironically, the more you learn and read about Anakin's atrocities, the more Luke's reaction becomes downright insane (while still saintly/miraculous), because NOBODY else (especially in real life!) would think someone like that had a heart deep down with a sliver of care left. That's what makes it miraculous Luke got through to him.

Lol, you cannot seriously be arguing that the maintenance workers on board the Death Star were "poor little guys." I don't know if you're aware of this, but even though there were probably volunteers, on the other hand, usually half the time in the military soldiers are ASSIGNED certain things like "mopping the floors" or "latrine duty" personally—so those people STILL were probably Empire officers. And even if they weren't, they still chose to be on the abomination known as the Death Star. Their sentence may be the lightest, but unless they were put there against their will they too would ALSO be charged. And also—with your argument—you're calling Luke's actions at the end of the Original Trilogy as a genocidal act or something, when really it was a necessary act to take out a planet destroying death machine. It's amazing how certain fans can try to twist things around to try and blame the heroes for something that is the villain's fault.

Here we go again with the excuses of "if only Mace wasn't mean to poor little Anakin" then Anakin wouldn't have had to murder everyone. Lol, is Anakin incapable of cognitive thinking? Because I promise you that if I was Ahsoka and heard that Anakin's reasoning for trying to kill me at one point in Rebels and betraying all of his friends is because a few people were "mean to him" I would just be pissed off at the gall of him to not take responsibility for his own actions. Even if a few people WERE mean to Anakin, that still doesn't give him the right to go on a murderous rampage. All his actions are still on him. That's like saying a school shooter is justified in his actions just because he was bullied. You calling Anakin a "Trojan horse" as if he planned any of that and wasn't just riding by the seat of his pants doesn't really make sense. Anakin didn't plan anything, and if you're arguing that BS theory that Anakin "balanced" the Force by genociding the Light Side to have it be even with the Dark Side (not true anyway since there were still more Light Siders than Dark Siders), then I am sad to say that you are objectively wrong. 🤷‍♀️

There is no way that "genocide is good, actually!" is the main theme GL had for a children's Trilogy. Anakin completed the prophecy when he finally got off his ass to kill Palpatine. He could've done that in Palpatine's office, or years down the line—either way, the outcome to complete the prophecy is the same: the eradication of the Sith. No more. No less.

Quite frankly, I think it's pretty gross to blame a culture for their own genocide, so the galactic community isn't doing itself any favors at that point anyway (including the SW community. It's always been a baffling fandom opinion to me). And despite what you and other fans may believe—the Jedi shouldn't have to CHANGE their entire culture/way of life for the sake of one man (Anakin) OR the galaxy's inhabitants who don't even TRY to understand them anyway (funny how Jedi are blamed for not understanding citizens, but what citizens try to understand them?).

They are not obligated to change their culture just for the right not to be murdered by a genocidal man on a temper tantrum.

Yeah, it's not surprising there were some among the population who "rejoiced" the fall of the Order. The war affected people's livelihoods and lives, and people get REAL greedy real fast when their day to day lives are affected by something. So yeah, it's no wonder they listened to Palpatine's propaganda to make the Jedi their scapegoat. Still pretty gross and disgusting, of course, but I can see how it came to be that way. Pretty ironic how people seemed to eventually miss the Jedi when they were gone, huh? It's not so fun dealing with an enemy (The Empire) when no space monk is standing protectively in front of you with a laser sword.

You DO know it's canon there were only 10,000 Jedi (not counting younglings and retired Masters) in a galaxy of TRILLIONS, right? It's illogical to expect them to be able to single handedly end slavery throughout the galaxy (especially in the Outer Rim where the Senate won't help them), or to expect them to be able to solve every damn problem in the universe like poverty (the lower levels of Coruscant). They helped people when they could. I don't know how, but you've seemed to have forgotten (just like most fans) that the Jedi ALWAYS tried to help. Even to the very end of their lives. It only makes it more gross to blame them for their own genocide. Lol, Luke barely knew shit about them except what he managed to scrounge up that hadn't been purged by the Empire (and a lot of that is from Legends authors, who didn't particularly like the Jedi anyway, so of course they'd write it like that and not as GL's vision of them being the heroes). The clones were treated terribly, and the Jedi did everything they could to make their lives easier (unless you'd prefer they sit on their asses out of the war to leave the clones under the command of people like Tarkin who didn't give a shit about them?), and it's illogical to blame them for the clones's plight. The SENATE are the corrupt ones and it's THEIR job to fix poverty and slavery and give the clones their rights. THEY are the actual villains of the prequels (besides the Sith), which is exactly what GL wanted to present to show the moral decay of democracy. And yet somehow people missed that and thought he was saying—"No, actually, it's the genocide victims who are wrong, guys!" when that couldn't be farther from accurate.

Dear LORD, here we go again with the excuses for Anakin's actions. Anakin "couldn't trust" Obi-Wan because of something kinda snippy/mean that Obi-Wan said when he was a TEENAGER?(The “pathetic life form/he’s dangerous line”, which he said when he was jealous/also—again—a teenager). Wow, way to hold a grudge. Lol. Doesn't that go against your whole argument about "forgiveness?" Didn't Obi-Wan's following actions towards Anakin then on in treating him like a brother show NOTHING about his care for him? Come on now. Let's be serious.

Why the hell WOULDN'T Obi-Wan go after Anakin? As stated beforehand, Anakin was DANGEROUS at that point, and needed to be put down. Anakin went against his fate to destroy the Sith, which put the prophecy on hold for a bit, so yeah, there was a "plan", which is why he lived, but that doesn't mean he wasn't dangerous and still didn't deserve to die at that point in time. He'd just killed kids like animals hours earlier. Again: not exactly husband/father material anymore.

Again, I feel like the implication here is that you're hinting that everyone misinterpreted the prophecy and that Anakin's fate was to bring "balance" by becoming a genocidal monster and "evening the score", and I am sad to say that you are objectively wrong. 🤷‍♀️ It's not accurate to state GL's original intent to a children's trilogy is that genocide to "even the score" was the correct answer. As stated again: Anakin completed the prophecy when he destroyed the Sith (ie; him and Palpatine). Full stop.

Hmmmm, you're doing a whole lot of speculation on how Leia "might" react if she was put in Anakin's situation, but not actually taking into account how everyone makes their own decisions and people can react differently to things at the end of the day. This just feels like another way you're trying to excuse Anakin's actions and condemn Leia for her bitterness towards Anakin just because: "Oh, if only that brat went what he went through! 🤪 " And such an argument—in the nicest way I can think possible—feels like the platitudes children tell themselves when angry at their parents. ALL of your and rabid Anakin fans's arguments are, because it all boils down to: "It wasn't HIS Fault! It was THIS person's! Because they were MEAN to him and he got BULLIED! And all his friends didn't understand him (even when it's obvious they reached out plenty of times and tried)!" It's just a very tired and frankly going in circles argument. You keep bringing up all these external factors as if the Jedi didn't try at all to offer Anakin coping mechanisms (Yoda literally offered them, and his advice—whether you or others want to admit it or not—makes sense. In war, you sometimes have to be prepared you might lose someone, and with the vague knowledge Anakin gave him, I'm pretty sure Yoda thought Anakin was talking about Obi-Wan. If Yoda knew it was about Padmé, no shit he'd probably have different advice). Anakin's life was not horrible at the Temple. He had a horrible childhood and that would fuck anyone's head up and leave a scar, but once at the Temple he was offered a whole range of different options to receive help. The only difference here is that you just don't AGREE with the Jedi's beliefs in how they go about helping people control their emotions so they don't lash out at people.

Maybe a few people (kids) at the Temple said a few things to Anakin that could be bullying (and I've only seen ONE comic related to that), but it's ridiculous to assume that the entire Jedi Order hated him. It's illogical to think that, and it's just like the childish notion fans have that Mace (who you call a "motherfucker" for... again, what? Treating Anakin like everyone else and not God's gift?) hated or was jealous of Anakin just because he didn't tell him "yes" all the time.

The point is, Anakin's life was fine at the Temple. Maybe he got a little isolated and lonely, but it's not like people didn't reach out. Anakin just had trouble reaching back. And all of those excuses don't let him off the hook for his genocidal actions, which you still seem to be twisting yourself into knots to try and do. THAT is childish. Not Leia judging Anakin for who he was when she had the misfortune of being tortured by him. You're plain lying to yourself if you think you wouldn't react just like Leia in real life. Most people are not gonna be wondering to themselves why the "poor little serial killer" did what he did to their family.

Just as stated before, Anakin honestly didn't deserve shit at the end of his life.

He'd betrayed everyone he'd ever known and thrown them all away (Rex, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Padmé, the Jedi/501st, R2, etc) like complete garbage. He helped genocide the Jedi—the very Order that took him in from slavery—and then spent those next 20 years hunting them down like animals, while also in his free time killing whoever Palpatine pointed him to like a lapdog just because he was depressed and pissed he'd screwed up his own life. He'd murdered thousands of kids at that point (literally monstrous and unforgivable for most people. Certainly me. Which only makes Luke's forgiveness more meaningful) and there is a comic where he hunted down a Jedi just for the sheer purpose of ripping his youngling out of the man's arms so he could let Palpatine turn the baby into an Inquisitor.

I am sure there are compilations on YouTube of all the people Anakin killed and the people he'd tortured or made jokes at while he smirked over their bodies. Come back and watch those and then tell me again he "deserved" to find peace. Lol, Anakin didn't deserve shit.

And I know that me saying that will probably make you think I hate his character. I don't. Anakin's character is very dear to me and I'm GLAD he found peace at the end of his life. I'm just under no delusions that he was "redeemed" in any sense of the word that wasn't in Luke's eyes alone or that Anakin actually "deserved" peace, when it should be completely obvious he deserved to be condemned to the farthest pits of Hell. As I keep repeating again and again: Anakin's 'redemption' and forgiveness are GIFTS. It's not something he is owed or something he even deserves. It's something he's given from the people around him who are quite frankly better people than he ever was in his entire life. Luke taught him how to be selfless at the end of his life. Because of his trauma as a slave, Anakin never wanted to do that beforehand from the fear of being weak again, no matter how many tried to help. But Luke did, and he succeeded with getting through to Anakin and making him finally get off his ass to make the right choice.

Again, The Force may have a "plan" but that doesn't mean people don't have free will. Otherwise, they'd all just be mindless puppets walking around spouting nonsense. That's just another copout to try and excuse Anakin's genocidal actions and say it wasn't his fault because it was his "fate". It wasn't. His fate was to destroy the Sith (and NOTHING else, despite what you apparently believe about a BS argument that I admit is common in fanon that Anakin "evening the playing field" was his destiny or something). He tripped and dragged his heels on that for twenty years before finally completing the prophecy in the final hour before his death. No more, no less.

It's childish to not take responsibility for your actions. It's why even though I love his character l'm not gonna treat Anakin like he was a "poor little guy" who didn't have a brain. He had options and a support system (Obi-Wan/Ahsoka/Padmé/Rex/R2/etc) he could've reached out to if he really wanted to. But he didn't because he just wanted to be told he was right. That's on him and no one else, as I keep saying over and over, despite how many excuses for him you try to bring up. I will repeat again: you give Anakin a lot of grace, but apparently none to Leia herself. Why is that? It feels pretty hypocritical. It also feels pretty hypocritical to judge and blame the Jedi in one breath saying they "lost their way (incorrect)", while in another breath embracing their very own beliefs on love and forgiveness. So, which is it? Do you think the Jedi had a wisdom and empathy for forgiveness, or do you think they "lost their way?" You can't have both and pick and choose based off how you want to excuse and justify Anakin's behavior.

Ahhhh, and THERE it is. See, I knew this gross argument (that I admit is a common fandom opinion) was hiding in there somewhere! I'm honestly not going to give this opinion much time, because at the end of the day you and everyone else who believe it are objectively wrong. 🤷‍♀️ You wanna know how I know that? Because it's genocide apologia. And at the end of the day, when you say the whole purpose GL made for Anakin's story and the theme of SW is that "genocide is good actually!", all I have to do to refute that is to remind you and others that this is a CHILDREN'S trilogy and from the words of GL himself; SW's main theme is about hope.

So because of that, this gross "theory" is shown for what it is: immoral, gross and just plain wrong genocide apologia. 🤷‍♀️ It's also just wrong in general, because Anakin killed all the Sith at the end of the Original Trilogy, and it's now canon more than two Light Siders were still alive at the time, so that would be "uneven scales" which goes against this immoral genocide apologia theory to begin with.

Ahhh, would you look at that! You've had the gall to bring up another gross argument similar to your earlier one (which is a common fandom one, I'll admit) that Anakin showed "mercy" to the younglings when killing them, when it's obvious that's incorrect and he didn't show them anything but cruelty. And now you're giving this type of similar gross argument that genocide survivors were "freed" from the "slavery" of their own culture! I gotta hand it to you, it's a common SW fan belief, but every time I hear it, I still get amazed at the gall of someone who truly believes this is accurate each and every time. Because it's obvious you don't agree with their culture (not saying I'd be a good Jedi either, but the point remains), which is why you think them being "freed" from their culture is better for them so the genocide survivors can make "real families" because you don't view the Jedi as family! Because you only believe in the basic family dynamic. So yeah, this opinion is also immoral and wrong obviously, because it tries to twist Anakin's and the Empire's genocidal actions as "benevolent" and "cleansing the Order for something new." Which is, again, genocide apologia, which proves you are wrong, because it's illogical that genocide apologia would be the theme of a children's trilogy about hope.

A lot of these things you bring up about Anakin and Palagueis are things l'm not even sure are actually canon anymore or if they're from Legends. Even if they are canon, these again are not excuses for his actions just because Anakin may have had a penchant for darkness. Even if he did, it's still his responsibility to learn how to control it and not hurt people. Many Jedi need to be guided on the right path to not follow evil, which is what the Jedi already did every day. With all of the thousands of Jedi trained and only a handful turning to the Dark Side, that seems like a pretty good record. The Jedi didn't "lose their way." This is a tired and BS argument that I admit Filoni has brewed the more GL gave him more leeway with SW, because Filoni doesn't view the Jedi as heroes in the right like GL did. There is nothing to show they lost their way just because they joined the war, because they literally were given that choice or sitting on their asses to watch the galaxy burn, and you bet your ass if they did that then Palpatine would spin it around to the public: "Look at how they sit in their ivory towers and watch you suffer under the Separatists's hands! 🤪🤪” So there is literally no way they can win here. If you're talking about how some of their methods got dirty (trying to mind trick the bounty hunter), firstly: they were literally trying to save their own children from being tortured/experimented on/enslaved, which I'm pretty sure gives them some slack (unless you're only willing to give that to Anakin?). Secondly, Anakin also got his hands dirty plenty of times in the war, and is conveniently not criticized by the fandom as much as the Jedi are. Ironic, huh?

Anakin could've told Obi-Wan anything and Obi-Wan would've helped him. Anakin knew that. Anakin just didn't want to risk losing his Jedi authority in the Order, because he didn't want to have to choose between a life with Padmé and being a powerful Jedi. If he cared about Padme completely selflessly, why didn't he just admit he was married and ask the Jedi to help Padmé and make sure she stayed alive through their Jedi healers? That was an option.

He literally risked Padme's life because he keeps sitting on the fence to try and have both. Because despite what you and some of his fans believe—Anakin isn't OWED both. He doesn't deserve everything in the world just because he is the oh so mighty "Chosen One/Hero With No Fear". A culture shouldn't have to change their entire way of life just for one man to continue being married and to have his cake and eat it too by staying in the Order. Even in real life, priests still aren't allowed to practice and be married. That doesn't mean they're being "repressed" or that they're under some type of horrible "slavery" to suppress their emotions. It's just the rules of that culture. If Anakin didn't like the rules of the Jedi, he should've just left after getting their help to keep Padmé and his kids safe. But he didn't because he wanted to keep both. That’s on him. Not his victims.

I mean, yeah, no duh the Jedi Order would’ve had some problems after killing Palpatine and having to prove they he was a Sith that acted on both sides of the war. Palpatine did that really well, but it’s a bit illogical to assume they wouldn’t eventually find evidence in his office somewhere or on his data files. He did the things he did by planning his schemes some type of way. And yeah, for some insane reason being a Sith Lord “wasn’t illegal”, but being controlling of both sides of the war IS, which they could’ve proved after a while. So, if you are trying to argue that Anakin’s actions were for the “better” because it would’ve been too “hard” for the Jedi otherwise—you are still objectively wrong this way. 🤷‍♀️ It’s also just another way to try and excuse Anakin by pretending his actions that day on the final day of freedom of democracy didn’t matter, when it’s obvious that they very clearly did. If Anakin hadn’t cut off Mace’s hand, the war would’ve been won. Therefore, everything that goes bad in the galaxy is legit Anakin’s fault. 🤷‍♀️ Of course Palpatine has the highest blame because he’s the mastermind, but betrayers/backstabbing is always a worse breed of crime, because it always comes from a friend, which is what Anakin was to the Jedi/Obi-Wan/Ahsoka/Rex/Padmé/501st. He legit ruins all of his friends’s lives with that one swing to cut off Mace’s hand. Trying to paint it as anything else is simply incorrect, and takes away from his ‘redemption’ at the end of the Original Trilogy by trying to pretend he’s a “poor little guy” who had no choice.

Anakin could’ve “defeated” Palpatine multiple ways. Just as I mentioned before, just because The Force had a “plan” doesn’t mean that everyone was puppets walking around on a string, because then free will wouldn’t exist. Anakin could’ve helped defeat Palpatine in his office that day in Revenge of The Sith by either taking the swing himself or either standing back and just letting Mace finish the job. He’s still The Chosen One that way, because his choice is still literally the defining action that saves democracy that way. He also could defeat him the way he does in the Original Trilogy, which is taking him by surprise to save Luke by throwing him down the reactor shaft to kill Palpatine. Either way gets the job done. He doesn’t need to physically fight Palpatine to get it done himself. He’s just the catalyst for what happens to the galaxy because of HIS choices alone, which proves how he has agency and understood why all his actions were wrong and just didn’t care. He didn’t need Luke for that in Palpatine’s office. All he had to do was grow a spine and let Mace take the final swing. He failed to do that and doomed the galaxy for twenty years because of it. 🤷‍♀️

Ahhh, there you go again with the gall to pretend that what Anakin did was “mercy” for the younglings just because the imperials would’ve done horrible things to them too! Gotta hand it to you, one has to have a lot of nerve to believe such an argument such as this (which I acknowledge is a common opinion among rabid Anakin fans), but it’s still gross and hilariously wrong every time I hear it repeated. So, just as I stated to you before: you and anyone else who has this opinion is WRONG, because obviously Anakin murdering little kids like animals is not a mercy. Anyone with any type of heart and soul should be able to realize that. What Anakin did is not and will never be a “mercy”. It was a cruel and dehumanizing act towards kids who were begging for his help. What would ACTUALLY have been mercy is what I stated before: Anakin snapping out of it to save the kids and lead them out of the Temple to save their lives. THAT is mercy. The only reason you continue to spout this BS argument that is common among rabid Anakin fans is to try and twist yourself into knots to deny Anakin agency and pretend he had “no choice” but to kill the kids for “mercy”, when it’s clear that this opinion of yours and anyone else who believes it is gross, immoral, and just plain wrong. 🤷‍♀️ It’s as simple as that.

Anakin WAS taught to understand, accept and manage his emotions correctly. That’s LITERALLY what “control” means: MANAGING your emotions so you don’t lash out at people in your anger, which is what the Jedi always warned their members against doing. The only difference here is that you just don’t agree with their beliefs, and are inadvertently portraying them as a culture who “suppresses” their emotions, when from the movies and TCW show it’s obvious that you and anyone who has this opinion is wrong. 🤷‍♀️ There are literally scenes that show it’s about being MINDFUL of your emotions so you don’t let them control you. Not to pretend they don’t exist. Anakin had all of these Jedi teachings available to him. The only difference is that he thought he was above the rules and that they didn’t apply to him. All of which eventually bit him in the ass, because he refused to listen to anyone and be told “no” without getting angry.

Qui-Gon was kind to Anakin, and Anakin had a fondness for him, but it is NOT canon that if Qui-Gon lived Anakin wouldn’t have fallen. That’s just a fanon theory that fans pretend is canon. You know how I know this? Because if you look it up, George Lucas straight up SAYS in interviews that Qui-Gon living wouldn’t have changed anything for Anakin not falling to the Dark Side. The “Duel of the Fates” is just what the song writer titled the song as a metaphor for the fight between light and darkness, but that doesn’t mean that because Qui-Gon died it was impossible for Anakin to grow a brain and a conscience and make choices of his own. GL literally knows better, because he’s the writer, which is what SW fans always say, right? Because anyone that believes that Qui-Gon dying “sealed Anakin’s fate” is simply using it as another copout/excuse for Anakin’s actions to pretend like all of his choices weren’t his own fault. Obi-Wan was a fine teacher for Anakin, and just because he wasn’t perfect didn’t mean he “failed” him. The truth is that Obi-Wan did everything he could, but Anakin refused to accept Obi-Wan’s help half the time. That’s on him and nobody else. He failed Obi-Wan. Not the other way around. Obi-Wan only thinks he “failed” Anakin out of misplaced guilt because he’s a better person than Anakin could ever hope to be who actually felt guilt for his actions, when Anakin in turn during that time at least felt nothing but entitlement and anger towards friends who wouldn’t join him on the Dark Side.

Dooku also doesn’t have any room to talk. He might’ve noticed corruption in the Senate, but the second Dooku joined the Sith and the Separatists and started helping enslave planets and killing people, he lost all credibility and became a big old hypocrite, just like Anakin became after ROTS.

So far, every single opinion you have given is just one excuse after another for Anakin’s actions to try and put the blame on someone else (usually the victims of his genocidal atrocities). And all of them are incorrect and immoral and wrong. 🤷‍♀️ Because half of it is genocide apologia or trying to twist Anakin’s actions from killing the younglings as “benevolent mercy”, when that is obviously WRONG and the biggest copout I have ever heard in my life. You also try to excuse Dooku’s actions, which is also wrong, because Dooku is a literal war criminal at the end of ROTS, so all of his opinions mean squat at that point, because he’d become the very thing he’d hated at that point, just like Anakin would eventually come to be from his own shitty choices. Therefore, every single thing you have brought up is not “facts.” It is simply an opinion that has become huge in fandom spaces because people like Anakin’s character and are biased against him and want to pretend he was a “poor little guy” who couldn’t make decisions, when it is clear there were a million other decisions he could’ve made.

I will then bring this around back to my original point: Leia Organa is not a “brat” for choosing not to forgive someone who was once one of the biggest monsters in the galaxy who TORTURED her (her own flesh and blood FATHER) just because Anakin might’ve had a hard childhood or a few people “being mean to him.” She doesn’t owe him anything, because specifically everything that had gone wrong in the galaxy up to that point was ANAKIN’S fault, and it is the LEAST he can do to kill Palpatine and fix it, so she doesn’t owe him anything for him killing the Emperor either. It’s great Luke found it in his heart to forgive Anakin, but it will NEVER be acceptable to call Leia a “bad person” for not forgiving Anakin, who is canonically the space Hitler (proven) of the Star Wars galaxy. She doesn’t owe him shit, and again: Anakin is lucky she didn’t spit on his grave.

Again: this doesn’t mean I hate Anakin’s character. But unlike you, when I like a character, I don’t need to excuse their every action to pretend they are “poor little guys.” Anakin was a horrible monster for most of his life, but I’m still GLAD he found salvation and peace in the afterlife. But he did NOT deserve it. He deserved to be condemned to the farthest pits of Hell, and I am under no delusions about that. He’s lucky the people around him (Luke, Yoda, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka) are far better people than he ever was while he was alive and were able to find it in their hearts to offer him forgiveness, because he never showed them that same kindness or grace, and obviously didn’t deserve their love or loyalty. It makes it all the more saintly that they gave it to him.

You’re correct that I said earlier I didn’t want to continue this conversation because I feel like we’re going in circles. But if you’ll recall, I also stated if you kept messaging me then I would respond to the best of my abilities.

My final message to you on my points is the one I left before and also this following one, and then I will wish you farewell, considering we’re obviously never going to agree. Maybe someday someone will come across this thread and read my thoughts and see the logic in not believing genocide apologia is the theme of a CHILDREN’S series about hope. Either way, the conversation is basically finished. I’m not going to repeat everything I have said that discredits your points again, as nothing I’ve said has gotten through to you apparently. The reason in my last message I brought my point back around to Leia not being what you call a “brat” is because that was the original reason I replied to you to begin with. The other stuff in this final comment you send about Leia “owing” Anakin for her birth, which is why she “owes” him forgiveness is also wrong as well for all of the reasons I stated earlier. The parent argument is just another excuse because Anakin was a deadbeat dad. Lots of kids write off their terrible parents every day.

Every other thing you bring up about the Jedi and Mace and the Council has already been refuted by my points earlier to show them as incorrect, even if you don’t agree. The final thing is of course you repeating Anakin has no agency and shouldn’t be blamed because the Force had a “plan”, but again, I’ve already proven in my earlier messages that type of immoral and genocide apologia argument about it being his “destiny” to genocide the Light Side is wrong, because—again—Star Wars is a CHILDREN’S series at the end of the day, and it is completely illogical and absurd that “genocide is good, actually!” is the main theme of a CHILDREN’S trilogy about hope.

I will respond to you no further now. I am satisfied with the points I have made debunking your claims, and will definitely come back to this as a reference if I need to debate someone in the future. I will only leave you with a vague thanks that things managed to stay mostly civil besides us calling each other “strange”. But then again, I know we were both probably getting annoyed. Still, it’s a rare thing to have a mostly polite debate on the internet, so I’ll give credit where credit’s due. 👍 Goodbye, and hope your day is well.

As you can see, there’s a lot of genocide apologia in this guy’s arguments (literally disgusting), and there were times I got a little snippy (it gets frustrating defending genocide survivors over and over), but for the most part, I tried to be polite, because I wanted all my points to remain strong. If you are willing to listen to my perspective, I think you can admit some of his arguments echo your own, even if you’re obviously not as blunt and frankly gross about it as him.

Take the show The Acolyte, and how it’s supporters argue that it’s only “critiquing” the Jedi and showing them as “flawed”, which is what you wanted to get at when you sent this ask, no? To “make sure that in discussing the Jedi we remember the good and bad.” Well, my response is… why is that needed? You’ve seen all my points and examples about how being anti Jedi is the larger fandom opinion and how Order 66 is quietly thought to be partly “their fault”, which is literally one of the grossest opinions to have and I’ll never sugarcoat that. So, why is it NEEDED to point out their “flaws” with every post on how they didn’t deserve their genocide? Why does that matter? Why can’t it just be agreement: the Jedi didn’t deserve to be slaughtered like animals? Why is it “oh, but we must remember that they were flawedddd and complacenttttt. 😔💔 After all, if only they just hadn’t been mean to poor Anakinnnn. Then he wouldn’t have been ‘forced’ to help murder them all. 😔💔” Like… do you not HEAR how condescending that sounds? 😭🤷‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Why do the Jedi have to be the “perfect victims” for fans, otherwise they either “deserved what they got” or were “arrogant” and “brought it on themselves?” Why aren’t the MURDERERS/BETRAYERS blamed for the collapse of a galaxy (Anakin and Palpatine), when THEY were the ones responsible and who pulled the trigger? The point is that it’s frankly just weird how much certain fans bring up that “oh, don’t forget they were flawedddd! 🤪🤪🤪” on a post that is mourning the loss of their culture. I promise you that your “special little blorbos” Kanan and Ahsoka (the REAL her that hasn’t become Filoni’s mouthpiece) would probably not enjoy the way you describe them as “oh, but YOU’RE one of the good ones!” And I say that with all the politeness I can manage.

Funnily enough, the writer of The Acolyte, LH, kind of echoes your sentiments, which just aren’t as “benevolent” as you may genuinely believe. In her show, there’s no DEPTH or honestly real THEMES of SW put into the show. It’s all flipped around to the Dark Side being “liberating”, which is so far from true it’s literally laughable. 😭😒 And I’m getting ticked off that when genuine criticism from pro jedi fans come up, somebody just HAS to say—“This show is just portraying the Jedi as not perfect! 😌” 😬😤🫠 And I swear I’m gonna lose it one day, because it portrays the Jedi as more than imperfect. It portrays them as emotionally repressed, barely competent “space cops”. 🙄 (Fucking HATE that term antis use for them so much, because it’s what they argue about saying the Jedi ‘deserved’ their genocide because they’re an ‘institution’ and not a “real” family. 😬😬🤬🤬 Ohhhh, I’m gonna go off on someone one day. Lol.) And these are just my frustrations. It’s not personally directed at you at the moment, anon. It’s just me kind of venting all my thoughts on this post.

I even had a fairly decent comment on my tumblr post about my critique of The Acolyte from a fan trying to save it, and they basically said the same thing and that it’s from the Sith perspective so it’s skewed. But it’s not. 😭😭 Because the showrunner’s views literally mirror the villain’s and then they become her mouthpieces. The show is completely anti Jedi while trying to pretend in a condescending way that it’s only Jedi critical in a way like—“Ah, those poor little culty Jedi. 😔😔💔 Some had good hearts… but their culture doomed them to be wiped out… 😔💔” 😒🙄😤🤬

I just… fucking HATE that show. 😭 SO much. And I know certain fans loved it, so I apologize if people enjoyed at least certain parts, but I’ve read a tumblr post that broke down the show really well and how hollow it is. The characters barely have time to interact and get to know one another before they’re all killed off (Yord and Jecki and Sol, who were fan favorites), until only Osha and Quimir remain—because at the end of the day, THAT’S what this whole stupid show was about. 😭🤦‍♀️ It was about a Reylo fanfic writer getting to play in her sandbox.

Anyway, my point is I don’t think you’re “anti Jedi”, anon. I think you’re “Jedi critical”, yes. But not in the benevolent way you believe. I think you are unknowingly being benevolently condescending in the way The Acolyte tries to be by saying, “Ooohhh, those poor, culty Jedi. 💔😔😔😔 If only they weren’t so emotionally repressed like robots (dehumanization)… maybe then they could’ve changed their culture so they didn’t have to be ‘cleansed’ for a ‘better galaxy’. 😔💔💔” It’s just… stuff like that. 😭🤷‍♀️🤦‍♀️ Which is… SO exhausting for us pro Jedi fans to hear over and over and over like it’s a valid take, when it’s just really not. But I wanted to explain my thoughts in a way I hope was mostly polite. I probably sound a little bit snippy, but it’s just because I’m frustrated at having to defend genocide victims again. That’s all.

I guess I would just… encourage you to rethink your thoughts? Because when you take into account what the Sith/Empire represent (Nazis) and then what the Jedi genocide is a metaphor of… your ‘argument’ looks less and less cute. 🤷‍♀️😭 I’m just saying. Some may not like me comparing it to real life, but there are plenty of Asian fans/aroace fans/Jewish fans that heavily relate to the Jedi for this very reason, and I refuse to allow their opinions to be silenced, because fiction is for everyone, and SW has ALWAYS been political, which means it’s literally MADE to be compared to real life.

Anyway, I hope this long meta post maybe changed some minds, if not your own. I’m gonna leave links to other big pro Jedi blogs that have better and more organized meta posts than me about this stuff, where they go in depth explaining how the Jedi are the good guys and how what happened in the Prequels was never about “the genocide victims are in the wrong, actually!” and was more about the SENATE becoming corrupt and rotting democracy from the inside out, which made it so easy for Palpatine to slither into power. 10,000 Jedi aren’t gonna easily change that. But the politicians CAN. They were just too selfish to do so. The Senate/Sith are the real villains of the Prequel trilogy. Not the Jedi (literal genocide victims). Anything less than viewing it like this is just… wrong. 😭🤷‍♀️

Here are the big Pro Jedi meta blogs I talked about:

Tags:

@ensomnia

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@shoniwake

@lemons-to-limes

@lexskiss

@spidersaye

@selenaftmarvel

@silverwoodj

@ajtaals

85 notes · View notes