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#like its not even a question she just is. compounded by the fact that if you want to you can play as her the whole time
hellspawnmotel · 7 months
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I finished wild arms yesterday! what a great game
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 months
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Winter Fireflies
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Summary: Despite knowing Natasha for years and dating her for a while now, you're still unaware of when her birthday is. So when Yelena lets it slip, you decide to give her a small surprise.
Authors note: Happy Birthday Natasha! 💖
Authors note 2.0: sorry this is out so late, I got distracted today lmao. Smutty birthday drabble coming later!
Word count: Marvel Masterlist Nat Masterlist
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   When you walk into the kitchen, you're bummed by the abscence of Natasha. You’ve been trying to track her down since you’d woken up alone in your bed, and had already looked in practicaly every other corner and crevice of the place. Thankfully the kitchen had at least been nice enough to give up Yelena, and you were sure would know her sisters whereabouts.
   “Do you know where Nat is?” you ask, strolling over to the fridge for a much needed bottle of water
   She shrugs, “She spends a lot of time alone on her birthdays”
   You choke on the sip of water you’d just taken, “What did you just say?!”
   “Oh shit” she exclaims, eyes going wide. She knew her older sister liked to keep a lot of things close to her chest, but even she hadn’t seen this coming, “She really didn’t tell you?”
   “No.” you admit, turning your head away from the blonde
   The two of you have been together for little over a year now, and you’ve been friends for nearly five, so the fact that you still had no idea when her birthday was left you feeling more than a bit embarrassed. Because even though nobody else knew either due to Nat having Fury wipe the more personal info from all her files, you thought that the bond the two of you had that helped forge your relationship would have changed matters for you.
   Didn’t she trust you enough by now to let you in? Its not like she hadn’t opened up to you about other things. You knew about most of her experiences in the Red Room, including her massive guilt and her nightmares. You knew about the Ohio mission and her sisterly bond with Yelena. You knew about Dreykov and his abuse. So why was her birthday such an elusive subject?
   Yelenas brows furrow as she registers the multitude of different emotions etched upon her features and though this is her sisters fault for not being open with you, she feels guilty for letting the meaning of the date slip
   “I am sorry, Y/n. I thought you knew”
   You just nod and let the fridge door slam harder than intended, “Not your fault”
   You have half a mind to just turn and head to your room for the day and ignore anyone that came knocking. If your girlfriend wanted space and privacy so badly, then you’d give it to her….but the bigger part of you knew you couldn’t do that to her. Natasha isn’t doing this out of spite or to intentionally hurt you, she just gets a little lost sometimes.
   “Where does she go?”
   “I’m honestly not sure” she answers, afraid she's only dampening your modd “But I know she's always back around dinner”
   You glance at the clock and see that you have about three hours, “Wanna help me with something?”
    She notices the hint of excitement in your eyes and finds herself intrigued, “I would love to.”
    When Natasha had returned to the compound she had expected to find you in the kitchen helping Wanda make dinner, but when she didn’t find you there she imagined that you must still be up in your room. To her confusion however, you aren’t there either, and she feels a twinge of guilt knaw at her chest. She should have told you by now what today was and why it was so hard for her, she knew you’d be understanding. And regardless, should have at the very least have left you a note so you didn’t have to wonder why you’d woken up alone.
   “Sestra(sister)” 
   She spins around in your doorway, “Lena, have you seen Y/n?”
   “Funny, I was asked a very similar question from her this morning”
   The redhead shuts her eyes, “You must think I’m a terrible girlfriend”
   “No” she admits with a shake of her head, “But I do think you are very lucky to have the one that you do.”
   Nats brows furrow, “I agree, but why do I feel that has a hidden meaning?”
   The younger woman shrugs, “I wouldn’t know, but she's in your room”
   Nat nods, and though she's still suspicious she heads off to her room instead. Once there she opens the door and is met with quite the surprise. Right above the doorframe a few streamers are hung, in the corner by her widow is a bundle of different colored balloons, and in the middle of her bed sits you with a couple of boxes.
   “Kotenok(kitten), what is this?” she asks, despite the obvious answer. Afterall, she hadn’t told you so why would you celebrate her even if you did find out todays signifigance
   “Its your birthday” you reply with a smile, “I know its been a while since you celebrated, so I hope this is okay. I didn’t want to go too overboard on decorations and presents, even though you definitely deserve to be spoiled”
   Taken aback by your gesture, she finds herself beginning to get choked up, “I- yeah, yeah. Its more than fine”
   “You sure?” you ask, feeling a bit nervous that you may have overstepped
   “I’m sure.” she responds, walking twords you, “I’m sorry I never told you, I just…I never had this. In the Red Room, special occasions didn’t exist. And in Ohio, everything about them was fake. There wasn’t any real gifts, care or love and I…I didn’t want that again. I didn’t want a giant fake display of affection meant for show. I wanted something truly meant for me, something real”
   You gently cup her face and wipe away the tears that she hadn’t even realized had been forming and slipping down her cheeks, “Well, I can assure you that this is all very real, baby. And all for you”
   She gives you a soft smile, “Yeah?”
   “Yeah” you assure her, gently kissing her lips, “Now come see what I got you”
   Despite her current age, youd think she was a kid again with the dizziness she feels as you lead her over to the bed. You pull over the larger all white box first, and she immediately knows its the kind of box that bakeries have. Her eyes are practically shining with excitement as she looks back at you and you gesture for her to open it.
   Inside she finds a white circular cake thats decorated with running gold icing and intricatly made icing flowers. In the middle is a small plaque wishing her a happy birthday, and in all honesty, if this was all she ever got from now on then she’d be happy.
   “I hope you like sprinkles, I had them put them between cake layers for you.” you ramble, as you were honestly a bit nervous on how shed react to everything
   “I love sprinkles” she says, looking back at you, “And I love the cake. Thank you detka(baby)”
   You practically beam at her, “You're welcome. Now, open this”
   The next item you hand her is also in a box, only this time its black and definetly isn’t from the bakery. If she had to guess, its some form of jewerly. She takes it from you and opens it to reveal elegant golden bands, one for each wrist.
   “I’ve been working on these for a while now, Tony helped design them of course” you explain, “They can do everything your widows bites can. That way, you never have to go undercover, or even to one of Tonys galas, without them again.”
   She honestly hadn’t expected you to have remembered the brief conversation she’d had with you about how, despite practically being a weapon herself and always having a hidden gun or blade on her during undercover ops, she just feels like she’d feel more secure with her most trusted tool.
   “They don’t even look like weapons.”
   You chuckle, “Well, that was kinda the point, so I’m glad to hear that”
   She smiles at you and sets the box down to grab your hand, “Thank you, Y/n. This really has been the best birthday”
   “Don’t thank me yet, we still have one more thing” you tell her, glancing back over at her window to ensure it was dark enough outside
   “Another gift? Detka(baby), you shouldn’t have” 
    You squeeze her hand, “Actually, this ones from Yelena”
    Amused and curious, she follows as you lead her over to the widow and she lets out a soft gasp as she catshes sight of whats just beyond the compound in the woodline. Just on the edge, in a few of the pines, lay stings of light that glow a faint yellow, that flicker on and off in turn. 
   “Forrest stars” 
   Its merely a whisper, but you hear it along with the wonder in her voice. You imagine she must be reliving on of the few good childhood memories she has and you can’t help but wrap one of your arms around her and pull her closer
   “Happy birthday, baby”
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matan4il · 3 months
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Update post:
The biggest thing everyone's talking about on the news in Israel right now is the finding of a MASSIVE Hamas compound underneath UNRWA's main headquarters in Gaza, and finding proof that UNRWA were supplying the compound with electricity and internet services, supply which allowed Hamas to develop their intelligence, used during the Hamas massacre among other things. When Israel published the finding of the compound, the head of UNRWA claimed they found nothing up until October, and weren't able to check anything since. Israel responded by pointing out that a compound so developed most likely took no less than ten years to dig and build, and that UNRWA was repeatedly told that Hamas is operating under its headquarters, but chose to ignore this. What I think is most telling is a tour taken by an Israeli journalist in the compound, where they showed him that the server farm in the Hamas compound is found directly under the server farm of UNRWA, and that cables from the latter were running down into the terror tunnel compound directly beneath it (source in Hebrew, here's a vid in English giving viewers a tour of the compound, I'll attach the vid itself below, too). Something like that doesn't happen by coincidence, and without the knowledge of those in the server farm above groud. Some of the cables were also cut in the UNRWA server farm, like someone realized the IDF was coming, and tried to hide the link between the two server farms. As one officer pointed out, if you're an innoncent, interenational humanitarian aid organization, you have no reason to cut the cables of your own server farm, or remove the name tags from the doors of the rooms inside your headquarters. You only do that if you have something to hide.
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Israel's army has been fighting Hamas in all of Gaza, except the southern city of Rafiach (Rafah in English). There are a lot of Gazans there, who have been evacuated from other zones. There's also 4 Hamas regiments there, which means Israel will have no choice but to fight there. So the only question is how to fight in that city, in order to minimize the harm to the civilian population. There are reports that Israel's Prime Minister has asked the IDF to present plans both on how to fight Hamas in Rafah, and how to evacuate the civilians.
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In that context, I got to hear a radio interview with an Israeli minister, who used to be the head of Shabak (Israel's equivalent of the FBI). When asked about the US warning for Israel not to fight in Rafah during the upcoming month of Ramadan, Avi Dichter said that it has never been a month during which Muslims have not fought in wars. In fact, in 1973 the Egyptians and Syrians (with soldiers from even more Arab countries fighting alongside them) chose to attack Israel on Oct 6, despite Ramadan that year starting on Oct 4, causing the war to be known in the Arab world as "The Ramadan War." More than that, in Israel Ramadan is always a time of peak alert, because so many terrorist attacks are carried out during it (here's an example from Mar 2023, when Hamas was encouraging individuals to carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan, and here's another from 2022). Dichter suggested that if Muslims can carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan (and it has happened outside Israel, too), the war in Gaza which was started by Hamas can continue during it.
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On an Israeli TV news panel, someone shared the estimate that over 100,000,000 dollars (one hundred million dollars!) is the sum of money that Hamas made just since the start of the war from selling to the civilian population the humanitarian aid that was allowed into Gaza, and which Hamas stole from the Gazans (more than once, by using violence).
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This is Chagit Rein.
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She lost her son Benaya in the Second Lebanon War, back in 2006. I got to hear an interview with her following the fact that during this war, she decided she would try to visit the shiva (the mourning week following a burial) of every fallen soldier. According to her, she has so far visited the families of 400 soldiers killed on Oct 7 or since. "If they see me, then it's living proof that there can be a life alongside the loss. That was our kids' last will and testament. They died so we could live. So we have to live." When asked what she's asked most often when she visits the families, she said it was what she did first after her son's shiva. "My other son was being drafted into the army, so the first thing I did was to accompany him in that." She was asked whether there were moments when she was overwhelmed herself. She replied that she's seen wounded soldiers making incredible effortrs to come to the shiva of others who were killed, to offer their families some comfort. In one case, an injured soldier recognized her, and told her that it was thanks to her son Benaya that he was an officer in the armored forced. He tried to hug her, but was at first unable to get up or reach her from the stretcher he was on. Chagit recounted that she tries to make sure her visits would be about the families she's conmforting, not about herself, but that's when she broke down and cried.
This is Doctor Elai Chogeg-Golan with her husband Ariel and their baby daughter, Yael. On the right, their house in kibbutz Kfar Azza.
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On Oct 7, due to Hamas' massive rocket attack, Elai was inside the bomb shelter in her home with her family from 6:30 in the morning, when Gazan civilians got in at around 1 in the afternoon. The Gazans tried to get the family to come out, but it wouldn't. Then, those invaders set the house on fire, probably thinking that would force the family out. Instead, Elai and the family tried to keep themselves safe using water. At some point, she recounts they even fought face to face with the Gazans, who tried to beat them with sticks from the outside. She said she managed to grab a stick, and beat them back. These Gazans then threw in two gas balloons into the burning house. Elai says that most of the burns she sustained were from the fire ball that that created. At some point, the Gazans moved on, and that's when the family got out, because the whole place was on fire, they were choking from the smoke, and even the roof collapsed. They hid nearby, but then baby Yael lost consciousness, and the parents decided to try and get out of the kibbutz. At the entrance, they met soldiers who helped get them to a hospital. Elai had severe burns on over 60% of her body. She was in a coma for 53 days, but incredibly, they all survived.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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clarks-letterman · 1 year
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lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader
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a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think
warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)
summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?
words — 3.7k
~~~
A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.
As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.
It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.
"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."
"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."
"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."
There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"
"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"
Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.
"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.
"I'll get it."
He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.
You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."
With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.
Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.
The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"
Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.
"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"
“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”
"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.
Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.
He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.
Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.
The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.
Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.
He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"
"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.
"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.
"Why do you keep saying cool?"
The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.
"So, what did you wanna ask me?"
"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"
Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.
Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.
"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"
His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.
Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."
"No, but you thought it."
"How did you. . . ?"
"You thought that, too."
Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.
He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.
His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.
Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.
Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.
With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.
In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.
"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."
Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.
At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.
"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.
"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?
He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.
At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.
He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.
Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.
Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.
However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.
Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?
He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.
"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."
“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”
“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”
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chasingmidnights · 1 year
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Feels Like Dying
Title: Feels Like Dying 
Prompt: “Every time I see you it feels like dying. Except, I know I’m alive because it hurts so much.” 
Summary: You finally tell Bucky how you feel. 
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Warnings: angst; Bucky Barnes (I feel like he deserves his own label, alright!); heartbreak; love confession; unrequited love; pining; and I think that should be everything! I apologize if I miss anything but you are responsible for what you read! 
A/N: This is a piece that I created for the Boxofbones Writer’s Camp event held by @boxofbonesfic! I hope you all enjoy it! I had fun going through the editing process and learned quite a bit! Thank you for hosting such a great event! 
Wordcount: 1,254
You walked into the common room of the Avenger’s compound and froze. You recognized that laugh. You’d know it in a room full of people. It belonged to Bucky Barnes, your best friend. One of the things that you loved about Bucky was his laugh, it was contagious. A small smile attempted to work its way onto your lips but faded at the sound of hers. Great, she’s here, you thought to yourself and you rolled eyes. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself forward. You wanted a snack and you’d be damned if the sight of Bucky and his girlfriend would stop you from getting one. You hoped they wouldn’t notice you. You thought back to when Bucky first started dating Leah. 
You had begun to notice small signs that something was going on with him. He would smile more when he texted and every time your curiosity grew. He would disappear for hours and come back as if he had only been gone for a few minutes. He became even more protective over his phone and wouldn’t let anyone touch it. Even you. You knew something was up but couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
Then the day came when he wanted you to meet her. You'd arched an eyebrow up at him, asking him what this was all about. His only reply was a smile, and he’d led you out of the Avengers’ compound. When the two of you got to the restaurant, a young woman instantly smiled at the sight of the two of you. She waved you over and Bucky pulled you along to the table. You’d never seen him act so excited with someone, except for maybe you. Bucky had let go of your hand and greeted her with a kiss. 
Your heart sunk at the sight, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t until lunch was nearly over that it dawned on you like a ton of bricks.
 You had feelings for Bucky. 
And it was because of those feelings that you hoped neither Bucky nor Leah would notice you as you crept through the common room. But fate wasn’t on your side. 
“Hey Mouse!” Bucky called out to you. A smile pulled up at the corner of his lips. 
You willed yourself to walk over to them, doing your best to mirror his expression. The last thing you wanted to do today was be a third wheel. If you had known that they were in the common room you would’ve taken a different route to the kitchen. You know this place like the back of your hand, you would’ve found a way to avoid them. 
“Hi Bucky, Leah. What’s up?” 
Bucky tilted his head at you. You knew he could sense that you were uncomfortable by the tone of your voice, it was lacking the usual chipper quality. The two of you were best friends, he knew you inside and out. 
“Just hanging out, care to join us?” 
“You know, I would, but I have a bunch of reports that I need to get done. I was just taking a small break for a snack.” You flashed him a pained smile. 
Did he just look sad? Surely he’s not upset that I said no. He has Leah after all.  
“Oh okay.” Bucky replied. “I guess I’ll see you around later.” It almost sounded like a question.
“Of course Buck.” You give him a small nod of reassurance. 
You leave, your chest tight and swallowing back hot tears. Honestly, you wished you were in Leah’s spot. In fact, you didn’t realize you had feelings for Bucky until he had introduced Leah as his girlfriend. You suffered silently for months as you watched him be happy with someone else. Every time he asked you to hang out with them, you came up with some kind of excuse to explain your absence. You were so lost in thought as you entered the kitchen that you missed the sound of footsteps trailing after you. 
“Mouse, what was that back there?” Bucky asked, you could tell he was upset by the sound of his voice, it was strained and tight like he was holding back. 
You pulled out a bag of popcorn, glancing over at him before putting the bag into the microwave. He was leaning against the counter and had his arms crossed over his chest. You could feel his eyes burning into you as you avoided his gaze. The sound of the popcorn cooking provided release from the tension that filled the room. You continued to stare into the small window of the microwave as you spoke up again. 
“What are you talking about Buck?” 
“You know exactly what. All that bullshit about reports.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “You have been acting weird for months now and I can’t figure it out! Please, just tell me what’s going on.” 
Oh, he was not happy. You should’ve known that this was bound to happen eventually. You run a hand over your face before you turn to him. Bucky began to tap his metal hand on the countertop. You could feel heat beginning to form in your cheeks from being so worked up over this whole situation. Before you could even stop yourself, you said the first thing that came out of your mouth. 
“Fine, then how about this, I’d rather be doing other things than watch you two make lovey eyes at each other. Is that more acceptable?” Your voice was laced with sarcasm. He did not appreciate that, you could tell by the look on his face. 
“What, do you not like Leah?” He uncrossed his arms and put a hand on his hip as he waited for an answer.
You scoff at his inquiry. “She’s fine, I guess. I just don’t feel like being a third wheel all the damn time, is that so hard to believe?” 
“Come on Mouse, stop with the shit. Look, I can tell you don’t like her, you never hang out with us, no matter how many times I invite you.” His voice stern and his expression serious. 
Well, you might as well be honest with him. You take a deep breath. 
“You wanna know why?! It’s because I wish it was me that you were with, not her.” Your heart was already starting to race, the words continued to spew out. “It kills me every time I see you two together!” You paused to catch your breath. “Every time I see you it feels like dying. Except, I know I’m alive because it hurts so much. That’s how much I like you!” You hated the way your voice cracked, like the weight of your words was too heavy for it.
You stared at Bucky, your eyes locked together as the shock grew over his features. Tears began to gather in your wide eyes the longer he remained quiet. A sniffle escaped and you wiped away a fallen tear. You knew this is what would happen. The air around you grew thick as Bucky continued to stare wordlessly at you. You needed to get out of here. You felt like a complete idiot for spilling your guts to your best friend like this. 
“Right, well. I’ll just leave.” He would have said something if he felt even remotely the same. 
Tears continued to fall down your cheeks as you rushed past him. You left  before the timer went off, in too much pain to stand there any longer.
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wandabear · 10 months
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You always love me more (when we're miles away)
ㅤㅤ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader chapter warnings: angst, no happy ending, death. status: one shot (2.5k) this is my first Nat x reader fic, so, be nice. Miles away song. part two, alternative happy ending
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“I love you, Nat.”
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“The food was good, I love you.”
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“Can you give me the...? Yes, that one. Thank you, I love you!”
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“Goodnight, I love you.”
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One and a thousand ways to express the way she feels, every time Y/N hears that hoarse voice, every time she loses herself in those green eyes, every time she soft little kisses or caresses her red hair. The way of expressing her own way of loving.
The loss in her life taught Y/N that sometimes, it's better to say it before you hide it. Or lose it.
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"Can you stop?" Natasha exhaled the air she was holding and closed her eyes. Didn't have time to put up with what she thought. She always did it to avoid hurting Y/N's feelings, but this time, the stress outweighed everything.
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It was painful, Y/N had always been a loving girlfriend and so kind. Always wanted to help Nat, whenever she was stressed the brunette would come over asking if she needed anything. Perhaps bringing her favorite candy, or coffee when she saw her frowning at the mission reports.
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Y/N was finishing chopping the onion and dropping it into the pan, when she heard Natasha.
The agent looked up to see what it was about, she just saw Natasha leaving her Stark tech tablet  next to her and getting up from the sofa.
They still didn't share a place in the compound, but from time to time, they stayed in each other's rooms. Although Y/N only had her own room and Natasha, well, it was more like an apartment so they used to spend more time at Nat's place.
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The redhead seemed quite exhausted, so Y/N let the spy clear her head for a while on the sofa and decided to cook something.
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“What's going on?” Y/N dried her hands on the kitchen towel and approached, trying to understand. Y/N had always been very sweet and sympathetic, something Natasha loved to from the start but also very passionate and sexual -something that Nat loved even more-.
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“It's just-“ Nat tried but just shook her head. She spent a moment trying to find the right words but none of them seemed to be 'right' anymore. Everything was going to hurt her. “You use it every moment, as if it were something normal.”
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Y/N frowned, more confused than before. “What are you taking about? I’m lost here.”
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“The ‘I love you'.” The redhead kept frowning, arms crossed.
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Y/N wondered herself if it wouldn't hurt her face from spending the whole damn day like that, frowning.
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“It is… For me, it is.” Y/N shrugged, didn't understand what this was all about. “It’s expressing to you what I feel. It's nice, it's normal to express what you... feel. In fact, what is 'normal'? I mean, the fuck is normal lately? It’s just love.”
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“To you, maybe, but not to me.” She took the towel that Y/N used with and put it back in its place. “I told you not to put the towel in there, but you keep doing it.”
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Y/N didn't say anything, she just wanted to know what was going on and no matter how many questions she asked, Natasha wouldn't speak until she wanted to. She was like that.
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“I feel like I'm drowning.” Finally the spy decided to let go, closing her eyes. “Sometimes you say it, and I- I don't answer it.”
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But far from being surprised, the brunette sighed. “I know.”
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“Then why are you still going on?” Frowning at her, Natasha turned to look at her.
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“I like feeling that, you know...” All Y/N did was shift awkwardly, crossing her arms. That necklace with a small red hourglass bounced off her chest.  “I like to listen to it, it's nice to be reminded that someone loves you.”
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“Yeah, well, it's making me feel guilty every time I don't want to say it!” Natasha snapped, couldn't even see her face.   She didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes, just wanted to be alone.
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Of course those words stabbed into Y/N's heart, it was a deep and agonizing pain but she clenched her jaw, trying to be strong.
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“If you want a fucking girl all clingy, so affectionate and lovey-dovey that’s not me, okay? That'll never be me.” Natasha swallowed and even though it was the hardest thing she ever did, she decided to end with the fear and the guilt.  “Stable and faithfull… I’m trying, but what you want? it’s… just not me.”
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Oh, Natasha's favorite form of self-destruction. ㅤㅤ Y/N’s tears didn’t stop falling, for a while, but she wiped each one of them.
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“Yesterday you asked me for a hug, and I told you 'no'.”  The redhead dared to look at her, and do her best performance.  “And I could see that it hurt you, and still, I did nothing. And you didn't either.”
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The redhead just smiled wryly and shook her head, without being aware -or maybe she was- that she was completely destroying her whole world.
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“Doesn't that tell you anything? And  of course, you got sad, you got upset, because you don't know how to take a 'no'.”
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Of course it was too much to take right now, Y/N opened her eyes wide and just licked her lips. What to say to all that? She didn't even expect it. Was just there to cook a delicious dinner for her girlfriend, who was coming back from one of the toughest missions of her life.
ㅤㅤ They started a relationship not too long ago, of course, a few months ago when Natasha finally accepted that she liked Y/N when someone else tried to hit on her. ㅤㅤ
The silence remained for a while until Y/N decided to walk towards the exit, taking her jacket. She wasn't going to respond the way Natasha was looking, trying to play the bad guy out of her. Or maybe play the 'you deserve better' card.
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“I know how to take a ‘no’.”  Y/N watched her out of the corner of her eye as she walked. If this was going to end, it wasn't going to be her fault.
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“I’m sorry.” Natasha tried, from her heart this time. The last thing she wanted was to hurt her but she was doing it anyway.
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Letting out an ironic and sad giggle, Y/N said, before leaving and closing the door,  “You don't have to say it.”
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Natasha sighed deeply and leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling that now the weight was even worse. But she would soon get better, little by little.
Because love was for children.
Watching out of the corner of her eye as the onion hissed as it began to burn, Nat just reached out her hand to turn off the stove.
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Two weeks passed since that night and Y/N hadn't stopped missing Natasha. Of course it was much more difficult when you had to run into the spy every morning, but moving some schedules, Y/N managed to find stability.
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Although Wanda tried to help and cheer her up, the agent only seemed to find peace when she was on missions. Besides, Wanda was happy with her new girlfriend, she didn't want to ruin that. Especially when Wanda had been through a lot, she deserved a little bit of happiness.
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Y/N took her bag and fastened the belt of the S.H.I.EL.D uniform, looking at herself in the mirror. The logo beautified her shoulder and increased the pride she felt. She was a good agent, she couldn't let the pain overwhelm her.
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She walked towards the hangar, where a quinjet was ready to transport several agents to Argentina. Apparently several terrorists who called themselves 'Watchdogs' were creating chaos causing several cities in the world to have a blackout, one of them, the city of Buenos Aires.
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The mission was simple, arrive, defend, kick asses, restore power. Arrest the terrorists, identify them and get more information from them.
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“Promise you'll take care of yourself.” Wanda asked as she walked with her best friend towards the quinjet, stopping in front of the quinjet's entrance.
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Y/N smiled tenderly, the circles on her eyes and her pale skin indicated that she had not been well for days, and although she swore that everything was fine, Wanda never stopped worrying.
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“I'll do it, mama hen. ” Y/N leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead and climb into the quinjet. She smiled at the witch one last time, trying to hide the sadness by smiling and being ‘the funny one’. “Take care, Wands.”
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But the hours passed and a new red sun was born on the horizon. ㅤㅤ
The quinjet returned the next day, but the news were not the best. Steve and Natasha walked into the hangar towards the quinjet, which was opening its doors revealing the tired, battered faces, but above all the sadness in their eyes.
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Sam climbed out of the quinjet, feeling his feet heavier than ever with each step. The agents who survived walked directly to the infirmary or simply walked away from the scene because they knew exactly what was coming. And it wasn't good.
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“All good?” Steve sensed the seriousness in Sam and knew that, as he'd heard in his encrypted message, things hadn't gone quite right.
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“What happened?” Natasha frowned, seeing black bags and the American flag on them. Clearly, there were casualties in the mission.
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“They ambushed us, but we managed to beat them down.” Sam cleared his throat and looked down.  “Nat, I think you should come in. We need to talk first.”
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“Why? Where is Y/N?” The redhead tilted her head, looking for the presence of that woman but she didn't hear anything. “She stayed there? We told you to go straight back.”
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That broke Sam's heart and he sighed heavily. Even though he was always funny and tough, the man couldn't help but feel guilty. Steve noticed how teary those brown eyes were, he recognized that look anywhere.
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“We should go inside.” Steve nodded but Natasha shook her head, not understanding what was happening.
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“I’m sorry, Nat.” Sam said without further ado and placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Trying to show his support.
But Natasha frowned and quickly removed his hand, almost as if those words burned her, breaking her heart. He was definitely wrong, it couldn't be true.
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“W-What do you mean? Wilson, what the hell do you mean?” The russian spy exclaimed, looking at the quinjet, took a step to enter but Sam got in the way.
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“There were casualties in the team, the Watchdogs were waiting for us.” He spoke fast, tried to stop her like Steve but they couldn't.
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“Get out of my way.” She growled tried to keep going but Steve grabbed her arm.
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“Nat, don't do this to you.”
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“Get out of the way.” She slipped out of his grasp easily, Sam not even trying to hold her back anymore. She was the fucking Black Widow, and she was pissed. “I want to see her. Let me see her.”
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Nat simply stepped into the quinjet and stumbled, devastated.  
Three bags were in that place, three bodies and three flags. In one of them was the love of her life.
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“I'm so sorry.” Sam turned around so as not to see that heartbreaking scene.  “I know you were together before, but-”
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“But she left like a hero.”
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Two months ago...
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“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.” Y/N moved around the kitchen singing and dancing, one of her favorites without a doubt, that reproduced thanks to Friday.
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Natasha just watched her with some amusement and tenderness, her eyes sparkled just seeing that new joy in her life.
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Y/N approached and wrapped her arms around the redhead’s neck, looking at her with a unique devotion. “Tell me lies, Romanoff…” she whispered against those soft full lips before sealing the moment with a kiss.
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The brunette moved away and brought a spoon for her to try the sauce she had been working on for half an hour, and without hesitation, Natasha licked her lips. Y/N had a knack for cooking, no doubt.
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“Do you like it?” Y/N asked curiously as she stirred the sauce again and swayed her hips to the song.
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Without realizing that the gaze of the black widow did not leave her at any time. “Very much.” whispered the Russian.
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The scene was heartbreaking. Natasha knelt to the side of the bag, and her hands trembled before she unzipped it.
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Her beloved's pale face was paler than usual, the dried blood and the red hourglass necklace in her chest contrasted painfully. Her beautiful eyes were closed and no longer had that charming shine. That cheeky smile was gone. Now only a cold and lifeless body remained, just an empty shell.
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“Bring her back.” Natasha ordered and looked at Tony and Doctor Cho, who quickly arrived at the scene.  “Do whatever you have to do.”
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Tears began to fall down her cheeks, one after the other.  “Please.” She begged and her voice broke painfully.
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“We can’t.” Even Tony couldn't help but swallow and wipe away a tear. No one could believe what they were seeing. Not only was the life of a magnificent agent was lost, but Natasha Romanoff was completely broken, begging and crying.
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Wanda, who seemed to have caught the news, ran through the hangar towards the quinjet in desperation.
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“Fury did it with Coulson!” Nat exclaimed caressing Y/N's face gently, afraid of hurting her even more, but she felt so cold. Y/N was never cold, always warm.
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Helen Cho shook her head quickly, terrified and sad.  “That process i-is... it's impossible right now a-and it's really painful. We'd just make her suffer.”
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“I’m very sorry, Nat.” Steve murmured with utter sadness, turning to get out of the quinjet and leave her alone for a moment. To cry, to scream, to mourn.
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Desperate, Natasha turned her gaze towards Y/N and cup her face in her hands. Praying that she would wake up, that she would open those pretty eyes and everything was just a huge mistake.   “I love you. I love you!” The redhead wept uncontrollably.  “Please, say it, Y/N.”
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“I love you so much, моя любовь, please wake up.” Nat sniffled, leaned her forehead against hers, as they had done so many times. Nat held on to her body.
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She kissed her lips, but found them just so cold. She placed a hand on Y/N’s chest, searching for the heartbeat as they sometimes did. Well, Y/N used to. Nat only used to watch her.
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“Please, say it now. I beg you.” Natasha closed her eyes and allowed herself to mourn. Her lips, eyes and nose all red from crying. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
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But the painful silence was louder than ever.
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Well, I don't know if it's good but I needed to write this. Thank you if you got here and read me. 🌻 It's my first time writing about Nat. To be honest, I know she would be a cutiepie with reader but I needed the angst.
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animeomegas · 1 year
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24 Hours - Epilogue
[Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters]
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Summary: You had spent the best part of a week married to each of your possible future suitors. You had enjoyed yourself immensely, but now was the hard part; you had to sort your life out and figure out which path you were going to pick... GN!Alpha!Reader x Multiple
Warnings: Pregnancy stuff, swearing, vague descriptions of injuries, some n-sfw discussions.
(And here we are!! The epilogue is complete!!! This project has been a ride, but it’s all worth it to give to @omeganronpa​!! I hope everyone else has enjoyed also though, and I hope you enjoy the ending, even if it’s not the one you hoped for :D Merry Christmas!!!!!! 💞💞💞)
Word count: 9.4k
Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Epilogue
When you opened your eyes, you expected to see the purple-on-purple design of the fortune telling shop through clouds of incense, with the mysterious fortune teller hovering over you and smiling in that infuriating way that made you want to answer the question of whether to thank her or punch her with the answer ‘both’.
But no, you woke up in your shinobi, standard issue flat, in your boring, plain bedroom that never had time to be interesting or messy because you were never there. Your whole body ached from the mission you had almost forgotten you’d just done, but you pushed yourself into a sitting position regardless.
You were still wearing your mission clothes and you clearly hadn’t showered. It was almost too normal to find yourself in such a situation.
Had it all been a dream? No, you decided, definitely not. That was too much for a dream and what would anyone have had to gain from such a genjutsu. No, you really had lived an extra week in the future, and doubting the authenticity of it wouldn’t be helpful. But did that mean the fortune teller had carried you to your room? You felt strange that she’d seen you in such a vulnerable state and then gained access to your home, apparently bypassing all your traps, only to leave you lying on your bed. She had done you a great service, but that didn’t mean you trusted her enough to feel comfortable with that.
Ignoring the fact that you looked and probably smelt like shit, you jumped out of bed and ran through your house, barely remembering to grab the keys from your mission pack on the way and stormed down the stairs to the ground floor. You needed to see the fortune teller. She needed to explain herself to you.
You squinted against the bright light of the sun as you exited out onto the quiet street, but when you swivelled towards the fortune telling shop, you found it as empty as it had always been. The windows were unobstructed by purple curtains and the only thing you could see inside was small amounts of debris and an abandoned counter. Baffled, you walked to the door, noticing the fortune telling signs replaced by the old for sale price with an abysmally low price, and tried to push it open. Locked.
It was exactly as it had been when you went on your mission. Empty, abandoned, lifeless and containing zero fortune tellers or purple décor.
Completely bemused, you had no other choice but to return to your flat. It felt so cold after all the homes you’d spent the last six nights in. You had believed house and home to be synonyms previously, but the last week had shown you how wrong you were.
Regardless, you couldn’t believe the whole shop was just… gone!
You decided to get out of your clothes and hop in the shower; you’d be able to think and rid yourself of the dried blood and mud at the same time. You turned on the hot water, silently mourning the superior shower and bath at the Nara compound as you did and stepped under the water.
You stayed standing there for a few minutes, watching the brown water flow down the drain as you pretended that you hadn’t just had your entire world view turned on its head by a possibly-not-real fortune teller.
How were you going to pick? You ran through everyone you’d spent a day with as you squirted shampoo into your palm. No, it was more than that. It wasn’t just about picking a mate; it was about picking a whole life. You had so much you needed to do before you’d be in a position to take any mate and give them the version of you they deserved.
You needed to sort yourself out before you tried to court one of them.  
Your number one priority was to figure out how you could be in the village more often. The schedule you were operating on now was unsustainable, with or without a future mate, but you also couldn’t be a good alpha is you were never present for your omega. Unfortunately, you’d also be a pretty bad mate if you were completely broke and unemployed because you decided to stop taking missions. You had to find a middle ground.
It would be a slow process, and although it hurt your heart to think about going back to your lonely life there was no other choice; you wouldn’t be able to stop missions right away. But you could start working on something else, something that would allow you to switch to taking missions part time eventually. Or should you go for an in-village job?
No, you quickly dismissed that idea. You would miss the thrill and the travel that came with taking missions, so your first plan was better. So, what could you do part time while taking missions for the other half of your time? What were you good at? What experience did you have outside of the usual shinobi skills? What would be a good fulltime venture in the event that you were too injured to continue missions or for after retirement? You had to consider it all.
You took a moment to just appreciate the hot spray of the water once more. It was soothing to think in the shower, all the best ideas were born there in your experience.
As you pondered the question, you started thinking about what other ninjas had done and you found yourself considering Ino’s dad’s flower shop. A shop could be perfect. You were great at business; you had been thinking about that only yesterday when future Naruto was telling you about the business fairs Konoha was hoping to start.
The more you turned it over in your mind, the more you were convinced that it was a great plan. You started to feel enthused just thinking about it. You’d have normal hours to work around whatever family you had, you could easily hire someone to run it while you were on missions because running a shop didn’t require specialist skills and barring the most extreme injuries, you’d be able to do it fulltime if you were forced into retirement early.
Yes, you liked this plan. It felt right. It had you feeling hopeful for the future, something you desperately needed. What kind of shop though? And how could you afford it?
The image of the now empty shop under your flat came to mind immediately, mainly because of how cheap it was. It was a rundown commercial building in a residential area, it wasn’t like people were clamouring to buy it, but if that kind of property was all you could afford, you’d need a business that could survive in such a location.
What kind of shop wouldn’t need much foot traffic to survive? Perhaps a shop that people didn’t visit every day and were therefore more willing to travel out of the centre of Konoha for. What kind of shop could you run where the remote location was a selling point?
Hmm, you would have to think about it more, but buying the shop downstairs wasn’t a bad idea if you could figure out a business that would work.
The water was getting cold, so you stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying yourself off and trying to avoid aggravating any injuries.
Getting this business set up would be step one. Dropping to part time missions would be step two. Getting closer to all your friends and helping them out with your future knowledge would be step three. Then and only then would you think about a mate.
Despite your energy for change, your life continued much in the same way for another year or so, and while it hurt at first, you’d fallen into the familiar pattern pretty easily. The goal you had made it easier to preserve though; knowing you didn’t have to do this forever was energising.
You put away as much money as you could from every mission, trying to save up for that shop, but before you had enough and before you had a chance to deepen and create all these friendships you wanted to make, war broke out.
The war put things on hold for obvious reasons, and in the darkest days, you wondered how the futures you had seen could ever be possible, because it felt like no one and nowhere would be spared from the brutal destruction.
You had fought as hard as you could, for those perfect futures and for your present loved ones. But eventually, it was over, and you had won. Sasuke came back and you focused on rebuilding your village and your home. You had a lot of time to think about your shop as you cleared rubble and organised relief efforts. Haku turned up to Konoha not long after it was up and running again, and you knew it was time to start chasing that future once more.
You opened your shop exactly two years after the war had ended. It wasn’t under your old flat, because the whole building had been destroyed, but you went for a similar place. You needed somewhere a little more private, a little more hidden, for your store.
You created a shop for heat and rut supplies, but you specifically aimed it towards shinobi by, among other things, allowing multiple exits to and from the building, operating on weird opening hours a few times a week for shinobi who were on missions during usual opening times, and including specialist seals for protection and scent control that shinobi could use to feel safer during their vulnerable times.
You stocked everything you could think of. Toys, lube, informational books and porn, nesting materials, high calorie ration bars, seals, nest décor, water bottles, low effort recipe books, first aid kits, cleaning supplies designed to be odourless so they don’t interfere with the heat/rut, and so much more.
It was a slow start, many people not aware of your shop for the first few months, but shinobi were awful gossips, so every one of them that came to your shop spread the word and soon business was booming and the money followed not long afterwards. You hired some brilliant staff to cover your days off and missions, and everything went as smoothly as you could have hoped.
The war was over, the shop had been set up, missions were dropped to part time, and you had money rolling in. It was time for the final step: choosing a mate.
You had become closer with all the omegas you’d spent those futures with, after the war.
You had asked Shikamaru to teach you to play shogi, and now you played together every week, allowing him a break to indulge in his hobbies with you. He beat you every time, but you were getting better, and he seemed to like watching you grow and change as a player. He had never once let you win though even when you had begged for a the shallow ego boost.
You, Naruto and Sasuke were closer than ever. You helped Sasuke fit back into the village and looked after him when the trauma got too much. You were there for Naruto to talk through his feelings about the war and to cry on each other’s shoulders as you thought about the people you had lost. You started to nudge them both together too, because whether you chose to join them or not, you wanted them to be happy.
When Haku had come to Konoha, you had helped him find a place to live, conveniently retracing your steps from memory to the place you had lived with him in the future. He had loved it and after you’d given a few suggestions on the interior from your memory, Haku had called on you for interior design advice every time he needed it. You were pretty sure his love of your designs based on what you saw of his choices in the future was definitely some kind of paradox, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
You had reached out to Shino in order to get to know him better and you’d had many ‘friend outings’ with him alone and also with his team. You listened to him and were delighted to find he already had that strange sense of humour that cracked you up more than anything else.
It was through Shino that you got closer to Kiba as well. And when Kiba had been sick on his birthday, all his friends on missions or unable to risk getting sick from him, you had been the one to spend the day with him, nursing him and trying to cheer him up. He had returned the favour when you had inevitably caught the sickness a few days later and you’d been lose ever since.
You had supported Neji leaving his clan as best as you could, offering him free reign over your shop for nesting supplies after hours, so he could shop privately for the supplies to build his first nest. You had even started stocking specific medication after hearing about how hard it had been for him to find pain meds that didn’t mess with the ones he already took to manage his heats after years of suppressant abuse. It had been difficult to get your hands on the medication, but for him, you did it.
You had also prioritised the other relationships in your life. Sakura, Sai, Ino, Chouji, Hinata, Lee, Tenten… all of them.
So, now, at your birthday party, the table was full of all these people. Your relationships with your friends were the most precious thing you had, and to see them all together here, to celebrate your birthday, it brought a tear to your eye.
It had taken serious planning to get a night where everyone would be there, but you had done it and it was more than worth it.
Neji caught your eye and nodded at you with a small smile; you had slipped him some free heat meds when you had arrived.
Kiba was grinning at you and poking your leg with his toe at varying intervals.
Shikamaru was watching you and when you caught his eye he mouthed ‘happy birthday’ before turning back to his drink.
Shino was sat right next to you and was telling you a story about his latest mission.
Haku was sat on your other side, between you and Naruto because you’d been worried about him feeling out of place, but he simply looked serenely around the table. When he got to you, he grabbed your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to each of your cheeks. A birthday greeting from Kiri, he explained.
Naruto was frantically searching through his bag for your gift that he was swearing must be there somewhere, while Sasuke stood at his shoulder, rolling his eyes.
These were the people that could be your future. And you knew who you were going to pick.
After agonising over the perfect courting gift, the right place for a first date and the right things to say, it was surprisingly easy to start a relationship with who you had picked. It was so easy that you kind of regretted over analysing every second of your memories of that cycle to find clues as to what you should say or do.
But in the end, you didn’t even give the courting gift or get through the planned words before your courting offer was eagerly accepted.
Things moved quickly. You were glad that you had worked on yourself first; you would have been unable to handle being a good partner back then, but now you could do everything a good mate should do and more.
Technically, you were on a courting date now, but you were far past the awkward restaurant dates and daytime walks around the village. No, this was relaxed, the eating takeaway in your living room and binging bad movies together kind of relaxed.
“What kind of decision was that?” you exclaimed, watching the protagonist choose to run upstairs rather than out the front door while she was being chased by a serial killer. “Like, I’m not here to victim blame, but…”
“That sounds exactly like victim blaming to me,” Kiba laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours.
“No, I said I wasn’t victim blaming!”
“Uh huh, like you said you weren’t going to eat all the mac and cheese,” he said, eyeing the empty pot that said mac and cheese had once been in.
“Shut up, I hate you,” you grumbled, snuggling into his shoulder and pulling the blankets around yourself. The protagonist was getting brutally murdered on screen, but you weren’t paying much attention. It wasn’t like these civilian horror films ever got anything right about actual murders anyway.
“Yeah, you hate me?” he leant down and whispered directly in your ear. Shivers ran down your spine. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it, dog boy,” you said without any heat.
“You sound like you’ve been spending too much time with Naruto,” Kiba smirked, pushing himself somehow closer to you. “Should I be jealous?”
“Never,” you said firmly, dropping the joking tone immediately. “My attention is yours; I’ll never look away, I promise.”
Kiba grinned, his lips now hovering close to yours.
“I love it when you say stuff like that,” he said, voice lined with a growl. He kissed you before you could formulate a reply.
With Kiba, you’d quickly learnt that every kiss was like the first time. Not because he kissed slowly or hesitantly or sweetly every time, but because the first time had been intense, hot and heavy and so was every kiss that followed.
You hummed into Kiba’s mouth, satisfied by the way he was using his tongue. You had become so comfortable with Kiba so quickly, but you’d yet to go all the way. Kiba seemed eager to take that step as soon as possible, but you wanted to court him for a little more first; you really didn’t want him to think that you were only there for sex.
You kissed until the credits of the film started to roll and only then did you realise how late it had become.
“Damn,” you said, pulling away, panting a little. “It’s already almost 1 AM, you don’t have a mission tomorrow, do you?”
“Nope,” Kiba replied, snatching one of the last slices of pizza from the table and shoving it in his mouth. “I’m still on leave from the last one.”
“Nice… Do you, uh, well,” you stumbled over your words. It was annoying considering how much you have practiced being casual about it in the mirror. “Do you want to stay the night?”
Kiba looked at you for a moment, a little bit of pizza sauce on his cheek, but before long he was grinning again.
“Hell yeah, I do!” he said, excitedly. “But I don’t have any pyjamas or stuff with me.”
“I have a spare toothbrush,” you said quickly, deciding not to mention that you’d bought an extra just for him. “And you can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.”
You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, but Kiba’s eyes seemed to darken at your words.
“Sounds good,” he said after a long pause. His voice was as heavy as his gaze.
You had offered to take the sofa and let Kiba take the bed, but the look of offence he had given you had had the offer dying on your lips.
You and Kiba were laying together in your bed now. You pointedly ignored the instinctual rush of having the omega you wanted to mate in your bed.
Kiba was draped over you, seemingly feeling no awkwardness at sharing a bed with you for the first time. He really wasn’t going to change much, at least personality wise, if the future version of him that you met had been accurate.
You sighed happily, rubbing circles on Kiba’s back. The mixing of his scent and your scent was making you pleased and sleepy. It was so nice to have Kiba here with you, and you couldn’t wait to see how your relationship was going to grow and change.
“Just so you know,” Kiba said sleepily. “Inuzuka don’t get married, so if you’re waiting until marriage to fuck me, you’re going to be waiting a long time.”
You snorted at the unexpected statement, having to stifle your laughs with your free hand.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I was just letting you know.”
“You don’t have to worry, anyway,” you said, still chuckling. “I’m not waiting for marriage, I just… want you to know that I like you for you, not for sex, y’know.”
“I already know that, dummy,” Kiba said, flicking you on the side. You could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to wait for that.”
“Seeing as we’re on the topic though,” you said, resuming your rubbing of his back. “Why don’t Inuzuka get married?”
“There’s no point of marriage if you already carry each other’s bite marks,” Kiba said bluntly. “Nothing is more important than that.”
You turned the thought over in your mind. You had kinda assumed that future Kiba and you had been married, but apparently not. It made sense though, now that you were thinking about it, and not being married wouldn’t change anything in your relationship.
“I get that,” you said. “It fits your clan, not going to lie.”
Kiba snorted but didn’t deny it.
You laid together in silence for a while. You were starting to think Kiba had fallen asleep, but he’d obviously been thinking about things, because he spoke up again, sounding a little hesitant for the first time since you’d known him.
“Do you, uh, want any pups?” Kiba asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
You just started to laugh as soon as you registered the words. You couldn’t help it.
“Wha- hey! Why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry, I just-“ you couldn’t get the words out between laughs, but Kiba’s frowny face eventually calmed you down. “I would love to have pups in the future. How many do you want?”
“A few, I guess-“
You burst out laughing again, unable to keep it in with the thoughts of Kiba only having a few pups. This time Kiba hit you with a pillow.
“Why are you laughing?!”
You responded by picking up your own pillow and hitting him with it, devolving your quiet cuddling into a wild pillow fight.
You had a sneaking suspicion that despite you taking these early days slowly, it wouldn’t be long until Minoru popped into existence. And maybe it was a weird thing to think, but you were really excited to see him again.
It turned out that Minoru did come pretty soon, only two years after that first time you’d slept in a bed together with Kiba.
And just over a year later, Ichika joined the family, and you were now a family of four.
Kiba had proclaimed multiple times how you were on the same wavelength with names because he always loved your first suggestion. You kept where the inspiration came from to yourself as it was technically cheating.
Now, Minoru was three years old, Ichika was two and it had been four years since Kiba had gone on a mission. He still worked around the compound when he had the chance but being pregnant was too much of a risk on the field and he was still breastfeeding so he couldn’t be gone for more than a day or two.
He wasn’t technically retired, simply on leave, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was pregnant again (with twins), going by the timeline you’d seen from the future, so he wouldn’t be returning to being an active shinobi anytime soon.
(You remembered when Kiba had been worried about him and Akamaru getting bored without missions, but the pups had kept both of them more than busy.)
You were still taking missions, but you had stopped taking long ones altogether and pulled back the number of short missions as much as you could. You spent almost all of your day in the shop instead, so you could be home for dinner and the bedtime routine almost every night. Kiba and your pups deserved a present mate and appa.
Unfortunately, even though you were only taking a short mission every fortnight, that didn’t mean being a shinobi wasn’t dangerous.
The last thing you remembered was accidentally triggering a trap and having your foot mangled and a paralytic fired into your neck.
The paralytic had worn off on its own, but your foot had required pretty intensive surgery in the hospital back in Konoha. You honestly couldn’t remember much about the journey back or initial treatment, but you had eventually been released home with strict instructions not to put any weight on your foot unless absolutely necessary.
You felt guilty for burdening Kiba with your care on top of your two toddlers, but he had been rather aggressive when you tried to apologise.
“It’s my job to take care of you,” he had said. “I don’t want to hear any apologising bullshit.”
At least you were capable of staying alert all day, even if you were stuck in bed. You could work on the paperwork for your shop which stopped you from feeling entirely useless.
You sighed, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. You still had another week before your final surgery and then another week of recovery before you could try to walk again. You amused yourself briefly by imagining putting a bounty on the head of whoever set that trap, but your daydreams were interrupted by the door opening.
In toddled Minoru, tightly clutching at a glass of water, using his entire focus to keep from spilling it. Kiba, holding a sniffling Ichika, came in behind him.
“Hey everyone, what’s up?” you said, smiling as Minoru successfully placed the glass of water on your nightstand without dropping it. “Good job with the glass, baby, thank you.”
Minoru smiled, but it was sad and lacklustre. He looked more worried than anything else.
“We’ve come to check on you and bring you some water,” Kiba said. He sounded stressed but was obviously trying to keep it together. You weren’t surprised; you had heard Ichika crying all morning.
“How are you feeling, appy?” Minoru asked, nervously fisting at his shirt.
“My foot’s a bit poorly still, darling, but I’m okay,” you smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “Do you want a cuddle? You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
He nodded, and with your help and a frankly over the top amount of caution to avoid your foot, Minoru settled down and curled up on the left side of your chest. For being only three, Minoru was already such a worrywart. You were thankful that your arms were uninjured so you could snuggle him and pepper his head in kisses with no constraints.
Minoru purred under your attention.
Ichika was less content though. Despite Kiba rocking her and attending to her needs as best as he could, she was still crying. You could see him talking to her in low tones, although you couldn’t hear what he was saying.
You suddenly remembered the day you’d spent in the future, something that was still weird to recall now that you had got on with your life. You remembered Ichika’s issues with her Inuzuka senses being too strong and overwhelming her. It would make sense that those issues had started young.
“Babe, pass her to me,” you said softly, holding the arm you weren’t using to support Minoru up. “I have an idea to stop the crying.”
Kiba didn’t look like he had much hope, but he didn’t argue, simply passing her into your free arm with no complaints. Ichika struggled and increased her cries as she realised she was being put down, but calmed a little when she realised you were now holding her.
You manoeuvred her head so that one ear was pressed against your chest, and you covered the other one with your hand.
“Try covering her eyes with your hand,” you said to Kiba, seeing as your other hand was holding Minoru. Kiba looked sceptical, but he’d obviously been worn down with the crying because he followed your instruction with no complaint, shuffling onto the bed on your right and using a hand to cover Ichika’s eyes.
The sniffling and quiet cries continued for a while, but Minoru seemed content to snuggle, and you’d mouthed ‘wait’ at Kiba enough that he did. Eventually, the sniffles died down and Ichika’s breathing evened out. When you and Kiba withdrew your hands, she was asleep.
“How did you do that?” Kiba whispered, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to thank you or accuse you of witchcraft. “I’ve been trying to get her to take her nap for three hours.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” you explained in an equally soft voice. “And I think she’s been having trouble with her senses getting too much for her. That’s why when we muffled her hearing and sight, she was able to relax enough to fall asleep.”
Kiba’s mouth pressed into a firm line and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looked very worried.
“That’s not good,” he said, stroking her hair gently. “We’ll need to go to a medic and see if it can be fixed because if not, she-“
“Hey, stop spiralling,” you chastised softly. “She’ll be fine. Even if she needs more support or she decides against being a ninja, she’s still healthy and we can manage the symptoms and make her happy. That’s what matters.”
“Is Ich’ka poorly too?” Minoru asked suddenly. You and Kiba both looked to him, having forgotten that he was still awake. His bottom lip was trembling, and the poor thing looked incredibly upset at the idea that both his sister and appa were unwell.
“No, baby, Ichika is fine,” Kiba rushed to reassure him verbally while you pressed a kiss onto his little forehead. “We just think that sometimes things get too loud for her, so we’re working out how to fix it for her.”
Minoru blinked at you a few times but seemed to believe you because he nodded and laid his head back down on your chest, yawning.
“Okay, ommy,” he muttered before sticking his thumb in his mouth.
“They both ended up missing nap time because Ichika was crying,” Kiba explained, gently climbing off the bed and leaving your two pups snuggled up on you.
The pain in your foot was overshadowed by the burning affection that threatened to overwhelm you as your two babies snuggled into your chest.
“I’m going to change your bandages while they’re sleeping,” Kiba said, slipping into the bathroom and coming out a few moments later with everything needed to tend to your foot. It was common for him to change them while the pups napped because neither of you wanted them to see any of the gore in case it scared them. Especially Minoru, who had been inconsolable when you’d come back injured from your mission.
“Ouch,” you grumbled as he wiped at your foot with cleaning alcohol.
“Oh dear, poor baby, are the wipes too much for you?” Kiba teased, picking up the bandages and beginning to wrap them around your foot. “Do you want me to kiss it better after it’s all bandaged?”
“Yes,” you said earnestly, ignoring the teasing aspect of his question.
Kiba snorted, but obliged, pecking the bandaged foot while trying not to laugh. You hoped you could make him laugh more often; he had been so serious and stressed recently, torn between your injury, Ichika’s constant crying and Minoru’s refusal to leave the house in case you got worse while he left. And all of that was on top of the normal caring duties for two toddlers.
You felt guilty for getting injured and making his life so hard, but you knew he wouldn’t appreciate the insinuation that you were a burden on him. You were pack and as far as Kiba was concerned, pack looked after each other no matter what.
“Are you okay with them in here with you? I need to go and try and clean the house, it’s in an absolute state,” Kiba asked, packing away the medical supplies.
You didn’t want him to work and work and work until he dropped.
“You should lay down with us, babe,” you said, still keeping your voice low so that you didn’t disturb Minoru and Ichika. “You look like you need it, no offence.”
“None taken,” he snorted. “But I still need to clean and Ichika has been refusing to be put down, so now’s the only time I can do it.”
“Let’s just, hire some poor genin team to clean the house or something,” you suggested. “We have enough savings and I’d class this as an emergency.”
Kiba hesitated, but in the end, you managed to coax him into climbing in on Ichika’s other side and having a nap with the rest of the family.
Once you were better, you couldn’t say that you weren’t glad, but you still treasured the little nice moments that you had managed to find in between the hardships.
A month after your foot had mostly recovered, it turned out that you had been right about Kiba being pregnant, and before you knew it, your family was now six people as Akemi and Kaito made their appearance.
With four under four, you and Kiba tried your hardest to put the hundreds of condoms you’d received as gag gifts to use. Of course, you knew from your trip to the future that it wouldn’t last forever, but you made it five whole years without Kiba being pregnant even once. When people teased you for having the largest family of your generation, you just laughed, knowing that it was going to get bigger one day.
You had been right in your assumption that picking Kiba would mean that you were never lonely again, and although you sometimes longed for moments where no sticky hands were trying to climb you, you thrived in the large family atmosphere.
You also carved out time to spend with your friends, refusing to let the relationships you had forged die from something as mundane as not having time to hang out.
The garden you had wistfully imagined hosting BBQs in while you were in the future was now frequently filled with those once imaginary BBQs. Naruto and Sasuke always came, Naruto excited to play with your pups and pine over the pups he and Sasuke were eventually planning on adopting together. Sai and Sakura came too, Sai always bringing some bizarre side dish with him. Hinata and her two children seemed a little intimidated by most of your feral goblins, but Ichika got on with them like a house on fire and you were happy to provide her with some calmer company. Shino had adopted a distant relative from his clan and was raising him as a single oma, although when they came along, little Kazue (and oh goodness did it pull on old heartstrings when you saw him for the first time) normally tucked himself up on Shino’s lap and refused to play with the other children.
It was chaos when you all got together, but the kind of chaos that lit a fire in your very soul. It made all those earlier lonely days seem like hallucinations.
After those five years, Kiba was pregnant again, with the baby that you’d almost seen born during your future excursion.
You were incredibly thankful when the birth passed without any fainting incidents. You had even managed to intercept Minoru’s anxiety by explaining to him about clan pregnancy before his lessons on childbirth at the academy and so instead of the tears and worries over Kiba dying, he’d instead proudly explained to all his classmates that his clan and oma were simply ‘built different’.
The actual birth had also gone much smoother. You were his actual mate this time, able to easily provide the comfort and intimacy that Kiba needed while also having the know-how from the previous three births to support him and the pup properly. It wasn’t your first rodeo this time. It was rodeo number four, which you considered an ‘out of the danger zone’ number of rodeos.
And with that, you had Hibiki, your fifth child and third son.
When you had been in the future, you had assumed that the mystery fifth child would be the last one, but you knew better once you’d actually been mated with Kiba for years.
Yua, your sixth child and third daughter was born a few years later.
And when, a few years after that, Kiba got pregnant again, you immediately booked an appointment to get sterilised so that you could continue to indulge his breeding kink without making any more mouths to feed. You were doubly glad about that decision when the final pregnancy was revealed to be twins.
“You’re doing so well, babe, so well,” you were naked and pressed up against an equally naked Kiba, holding him from behind as he worked through a contraction.
“It feels strange that this is the last time I’m going to do this,” Kiba said between gritted teeth. “I kind of don’t want this labour to end, is that weird?”
“Yes,” you said bluntly, vaguely concerned but not surprised.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he acquiesced, relaxing slightly now that the contraction had passed. “You sure you don’t want one more?”
“You know you’re not allowed to make decisions when you’re in labour, horny or feral.”
“I guess that’s also fair,” he sighed, stretching out his legs.
You rubbed on his stomach to try and ease the discomfort as best as you could. This was your sixth rodeo now though and it was almost funny to recall the panic from your trip to the future and at Minoru’s birth. You could probably deliver an Inuzuka baby in your sleep at this point.
“Drink some water,” you prompted, holding a water bottle to Kiba’ lips. He drank obediently, emptying the bottle in one go.
“I reckon these twins will be out pretty soon now,” Kiba said, reaching over to grab a ration bar and tearing it open with his teeth.
“I’m not surprised, it’s probably like a slip n’ slide in there by now.”
Kiba laughed at your joke and almost choked on his ration bar in the process.
“You’re the one who’s been in there the most, so you would know.”
“Pfft- Shut up,” you smacked him gently on the shoulder.
“You should know by now that that won’t happen,” he smirked, pressing his lips against yours.
A muffled smashing sound from the main part of the house had you both startling apart.
“Want to take guesses on which chaos gremlin was the cause of that?” Kiba said mildly, unperturbed by the sounds of destruction after so many years.
“Hmm, I bet it was either Akemi and one of her experiments gone wrong, or it was Hibiki attempting to eat his dinner from a dog bowl on top of the counter again.”
“Not a bad bet, but personally I think that was the sound of Minoru snapping and frisbeeing something fragile at the wall.”
“May the best person win,” you said, shaking his hand. He played along with a grin, but he soon tightened his grip and bent over in pain.
“Fuck, maybe I don’t want this to last forever,” he grunted, still squeezing your hand. “It hurts like a bitch.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, holding him tightly. “I wish I could take some of the pain for you.”
“I think it’s time,” he panted, ignoring your statement, not that you blamed him.
“Alright, I’ve got you, let’s get you sorted.”
That evening, twins Kaede and Natsu, a girl and boy respectively, finished off your family.
As a family of eight, the days felt long but the years flew by.
It was with a mix of relief and sadness that you faced your youngest, Natsu, moving out of your house. You had done it. You had successfully raised eight pups into functioning adults and sent them out into the real world.                    
It wasn’t like all of them didn’t pop over for dinner three times a week and crash here after missions, but still, it felt strange that you wouldn’t be caring full time for your army of pups anymore.
Some of them were already mated and you already had two grandpups. Most lived in the compound, some were ninja, some were not. But they were all exceptional people that were exceptionally loved.                                              
You and Kiba were holding each other on the couch as you mourned the final pup leaving the nest. Kiba had hugged Natsu so fiercely that you were worried it would hurt him.
“I can’t believe they’re all gone,” Kiba said, sounding unsure about how to feel.
“They’ll be around, I wouldn’t be surprised if Natsu was back here tomorrow asking how he’s supposed to cook pasta, when what he really wants is for you to cook it for him.”
Kiba laughed, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. You pulled him closer and let him grieve this stage of his life.
You had never regretted your choice to choose this family for your future, not even once.
You thought about all of your precious pups, the highs and the lows of raising them, of seeing them grow. Each of them were so different but so precious. And funny, all of them had immense comedic value and you had so many funny memories from raising them.
Like Minoru, your oldest and most responsible. He’d decided to become a medic, something you could easily tell from the near permanent expression of exasperation on his face. You remembered the day his old genin teammate had come back from a mission injured but had refused to go to the hospital. Minoru had dragged her back to your house.
“If you won���t go to the hospital, then you’re going to let me heal you, no arguments!”
That was the first thing you heard after the front door went and it was enough to pull you from the washing up.
“Minoru, please, I don’t want to intrude-“
“You’ve already bled all over the carpet, so you can get over issues of ‘intrusion’,” it was Minoru’s voice and the voice of who you believed to be one of his genin teammates.
He came into view moments later, dragging said old genin teammate. He muttered a ‘hi, appa’ but then promptly ignored you in favour of dumping his bleeding friend on the sofa.
“Um, you should probably go to the hospital,” you said tentatively, walking over to the two teens. “Our house is like, covered in mud and dog hair at the moment, that can’t be sanitary.”
“You’re right! She should be in the hospital!” Minoru shouted. “But she’s such a- such a-“
He struggled to find the words to match his fury for a moment.
“Such a… rat bastard! And she won’t go to the hospital even though she’s bleeding out!”
You snorted but quickly disguised it with a cough. You should probably discourage that kind of language but it was hilarious, so you decided to let it slide.
“Look, give healing them your best shot, but if anything gets worse or she passes out, let me know and we can take her to the hospital, okay?” you said, putting your reassuring appa voice on.
“Fine,” Minoru grumbled, kneeling at the side of the couch, hands hovering over her stomach. “I don’t care if this hurts, by the way.”
You didn’t manage to disguise your laughter quite as well this time.
Ichika came to mind next. She had worried you and Kiba a lot when she was younger, with her senses heightened so far above the normal Inuzuka level to the point of pain. But in the end, she had turned out perfectly able to take over the clan leadership when it became clear that Hana wasn’t going to have any of her own pups and Kiba and Minoru were uninterested in such a role.
What made her so perfect was her ability to make herself, and by extension the clan, seem perfectly normal and well-functioning. She was the only non-gremlin child you had, and the clan was using that to their advantage in negotiations and political bullshit.
Sometimes she fooled people too well though. You distinctly remembered the first time she had brought her boyfriend to a family dinner to introduce him to you, Kiba and the rest of your family. Ichika had tricked him with her normalness and the poor man had no idea what he was getting into.
Ichika had called a family meeting about an hour before her new boyfriend was supposed to show up, and so all of you were crowded in the living room because no one wanted to piss off an already stressed Ichika. Even the terror twins were managing to sit somewhat still.
“Listen up!” she shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table. “I really like this man, so I will have no one scaring him off, is that clear?”
A couple of your pups chortled, but Ichika’s glare cut them off.
“I mean it,” she said. “That means no asking if they have any ‘interesting’ diseases (she pointed at Minoru), no setting a trap on his chair or in any other part of the house (she pointed at the terror twins), no eating from receptacles designed for dogs (Hibiki was pointed at next), no trying to bite him (Yua) and well…”
Kaede and Natsu blinked up at her innocently, only two years old, each sitting on one of yours and Kiba’s laps.
“I guess you two get a pass,” she said reluctantly. “For now.”
“Pass!” Natsu giggled happily.
“What about us?” you asked, gesturing to yourself and Kiba, trying to hide your grin. “Do we have rules too?”
She squinted her eyes at you as she considered it.
“You are allowed to threaten him once each. Once only,” she stressed. “And they have to be normal threats that normal parents make, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kiba snorted, bouncing a happy Natsu. “So, when’s Kairo getting here then?”
Ichika’s eye twitched at the deliberate incorrect name.
This evening was going to be fun.
Your terror twins, Akemi and Kaito, came to mind next. And that was Terror Twins (affectionate) of course. They had both taken to shinobi life a little too well, specialising in tracking as any good Inuzuka did, but also traps and demolition, to the surprise of no one. And of course, they loved to practice those skills in your house.
Their Inuzuka dog companions were just as bad as they were, but their killer puppy dog eyes always got them out of trouble.
They both had genin teams at the moment. Rival genin teams. Although the rivalry seemed to just be between your twins, because the genin seemed to become close through commiserating over their ridiculous jonin instructors.
You still remembered the first chunin exams that they had been entered in. As green genin, none were promoted, but seeing as it was hosted by Konoha, Akemi and Kaito had begged the whole family to attend to watch their genin beat the other’s genin.
“Kick his ass, Sakurako!” Akemi shouted from the stands. “Yank that pretty boy hair!”
“You got this, Akihito!” Kaito shouted, not wanting to be outdone. “Don’t be afraid to bite her if you have to!”
You put your head in your hands, hoping that no one figured out that you were technically responsible for both the crazy jonin. You regretted saying yes to attending.
Next you thought about Hibiki, the boy you almost saw born twice, which was a cool fact that you’d never be able to tell him.
Hibiki loved dogs more than people. Yes, that wasn’t uncommon for Inuzuka, but Hibiki took it to the extreme. He had demanded to eat from dog bowls rather than plates for five years, and maybe other parents would have put their foot down and said no, you and Kiba had just decided to indulge the little weirdo.
Hibiki liked walking dogs, playing with dogs, learning about dogs, barking at people and a whole myriad of other similar things. He spent every day shadowing his aunt Hana in the vet clinic and resisted going to the academy because there weren’t dogs there. It was not surprising at all when Hibiki started to work at the clinic full time.
You still remembered the first time Hibiki had asked Akamaru to join him in the bath, as all of his older siblings had asked before him. It was the first time that Kiba’s normal hose threat hadn’t worked.
“I want Akamaru to come!” Hibiki sulked, stomping his feet.
“Akamaru gets hosed down in the garden, so unless you want to do that, it’s time to get in the bath without Akamaru,” Kiba said back, the threat of the hose well practiced.
“Okay!” Hibiki said, face lighting up. “I want to get hosed in the garden with Akamaru!”
You could almost see the wind getting taken out of Kiba’s sails.
“I- what? You want to get hosed down with cold water in the garden?” Kiba questioned, eyebrows raised.
“Yes! Thank you oma! You’re the best!” Hibiki cheered, running from the bathroom to the back door.
You and Kiba made significant eye contact, but in the end you both just shrugged.
“Alright then.”
Yua was next. She and her dog were inseparable and impossible to trick. She had gone down the traditional Inuzuka route of tracking, and Yua’s wicked smarts were perfect for it. She started leading tracking teams when she was only 15 years old, and you were more and more proud of her every day.
She did have a mean streak though. She wasn’t a bully or anything, you wouldn’t have allowed that, but she became easily frustrated with those around her. Like the time you and Kiba had been called into the academy because Yua had been in an altercation with some of her classmates.
“You have to apologise, Yua,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady and firm.
“But why should I have to apologise if what I said is true!?” she exclaimed, obviously frustrated. “I didn’t lie!”
“It doesn’t matter if you think something is true or not,” you explained, taking a breath to keep your patience. “Telling someone that they could ‘have an intelligent thought bite them on the nose and still not know what it was’ is very rude and mean.”
Yua huffed, obviously not understanding the situation. You were very aware of the academy teacher watching you fail to get through to your daughter.
“Fine,” you said, giving up on the explanation. “No training at home until you apologise.”
“What? Appa! No!”
Finally, you had Kaede and Natsu, the babies of the family. That title was something that Kaede resented wholeheartedly and something that Natsu embraced with enthusiasm.
Kaede’s favourite phrase growing up was “I can do it by myself, appa!”, while Natsu had favoured the “Can you help me appy, please?”.
Kaede had always been determined, someone who knew themselves entirely. You remembered when they had told you to switch their pronouns to they/them at age 12, they had done it with the confidence of someone so much older.
They had become a paperwork ninja, deciding it was their destined role and that no on would stop them and no one would talk down about the job. They were a force to be reckoned with, behind that desk. Just because they were the first Inuzuka paper nin didn’t mean they were well adjusted or normal. In fact, her companion dog had been trained to bite ninjas who gave late reports or who didn’t take enough time to make their writing legible.
While Kaede had been determined and self-reflective, Natsu only knew one thing: he loved cuddles. For years, he had been happy doing anything as long as it included getting cuddles or praise from one of his family members. Even his Inuzuka dog was the snuggliest dog you had in the family. He did have a penchant for teasing people though, but in a charming, if a little feral, way.
He had decided that the ninja life wasn’t for him, to the surprise of no one, and instead he helped out in your shop full time. Your customers loved him and his pup, who stayed curled up by the counter, was just as big of a hit.
You were still sometimes in awe of how different they were.
A breaded chicken fillet was on the menu for most of the pups tonight. You sat around your massive dining room table in the house you had to buy a few years back when it became clear that the number of pups was vastly outnumbering the number of bedrooms, passing round the plates.
You automatically turned to Kaede and picked up her knife and fork in order to cut the fillet up for her.
“No, appa! I can do it myself!” she said, pulling her plate away from you. “I’m not little anymore!”
“Alright, alright,” you said holding up your hands, having passed her cutlery back. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?”
“I won’t,” she said fiercely, immediately attempting to cut the fillet up herself. She was butchering it a little bit, but it would all taste the same, so you let her get on with it.
“Appy?”
You turned to see Natsu with his full-on puppy dog eyes staring at you. He was holding up his knife and fork for you.
“Can you cut my chicken for me, please?”
You softened as you looked at him. Apart from Ichika, he was the only one of your pups to have fully grasped the concept of manners.
“Of course, I can, darling,” you smiled, walking around the table to cut up his fillet into little chunks. “Do you want ketchup as well?”
He nodded, so you took the ketchup bottle and squirted a little smiley face with the sauce.
“See? It’s a smiley face because it’s happy to see you!”
Natsu grinned, looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
“Thank you appy, I love him!”
“You’re welcome, baby. Would you like some, Kaede?”
She nodded too but held out her hand to take the bottle from you, clearly wanting to pour the ketchup herself.
It was quite amusing that the two were twins; they couldn’t be more different.
They were all your pups and you loved them so much that you couldn’t articulate it. You would cherish them forever and from your perspective now, it was strange that you had ever considered choosing a different life with someone else.
You had thanked the fortune teller in your mind many, many times since that fateful week, but you also had to give yourself some credit for putting in the work to make this life happen. You built your shop up from the ground, you helped your friends, you wooed Kiba into being your mate, you built your family with him, you raised all these amazing human beings and somehow kept your sanity amongst the chaos.
You had earnt this life, fully and completely.
“We did good,” was the only thing you could say to Kiba as you held each other on the couch. “We did so good.”
“We did,” he agreed. “And we have so much more good to do.”
And you did, but you felt like you had it under control now. You knew what you were doing, no longer were you that hesitant teenager with desires for a life so much more than they had.
No, you could handle whatever was thrown at you now.
So, imagine your surprise when Natsu burst into your shop only a week later to tell you that he’d met a mysterious fortune teller in the night and spent a week in the future, mated to seven different friends.
The end. 
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72ww · 1 year
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HEYY cha cha slides into your ask box what are ur thoughts on sashamilla first meeting and what do u think it was like?? are u a li po doc truther or do u think it was something else!!
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Thanks for sending me this great question!
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time committing to one idea when it comes to branching off from what is strictly canon. Even then, I am big on character exploration in all forms. Pre-canon, canon, whatever. It is the biggest draw to the game, for me, these characters are lovingly written and set such a fantastic groundwork which a person can really run with if they want to. So, personally, I do not exactly stick with one story… sorry if it's confusing, but I don't commit myself to imagining it happened just one way. There are many ways to take two characters and consider how many ways they could interact. Why limit ourselves? It is a great exercise in understanding others. Below the cut is a lot of writing on trauma, pain, and grief, just a warning.
Sasha wasn’t intended to be her therapist at first. He was called in by his supervisor to see if Milla could be rehabilitated at all. She had promise as a powerful Psychonaut, but her mind was wracked with grief. She had been hospitalized due to her struggles with mental illness more than once, compounding her inability to recover. Milla possessed a strong desire to help others but was unable to help herself through her own insurmountable grief. Sasha, being relatively low in the ranks of his division himself, saw it as just another routine recruiting assignment. He approached it with scientific curiosity and not much else.
Milla's mental landscape before Sasha becomes her therapist: it's constructed from the trauma she went through. It's all she can think about, it is her entire identity. It is all-consuming because she can't cope with it. Every day the walls are closing in more and more, driving her further inward into a mental prison. She can't ask for help, she doesn't feel as though she deserves it, she is afraid of it. She may punish herself due to a self-prescribed guilt. Likely socially withdrawn from all relationships, apathetic, joyless. Any joy may remind her of her emotional pain. The two could be inseparable for her, in fact. In acute grief it is not uncommon for one to paradoxically associate happiness with trauma.
Visually, everything that used to bring her joy is present, though corrupted by emotional pain. Quilts, piano keys, crocheted afghans, a record player, melting vinyl, bedtime storybooks, children's paintings. All of it deformed hideously; burning, or burnt. Her grief has twisted her perception of the past. She cannot enjoy her memories as they once were. They have been overwritten by Milla's tremendous suffering.
As any good therapist, Sasha’s mission is to give Milla the tools to reframe the event that is plaguing her mind. Since she is unable to express any control over destructive thinking patterns such as intrusive thoughts, it is pretty easy to see why Sasha would be the one called in to help her. Maybe at this point in his training/career, he has successfully completed this process in himself and recreated such success in other struggling individuals. When he arrives, Milla is despondent. Sasha feels a strong connection with her immediately through a common thread of distress: acute, unresolved grief.
Well, I am going to go on a little tangent here, but I promise it is somehow relevant. Sasha is a very interesting character because he exists in a delicate and realistic balance of qualities. He is intensely curious. He has a strong sense of morality, but might not always choose to follow it. The two go hand in hand. Sasha must determine constantly whether or not a certain action is worth its moral implications. That is a subjective art, to him. Someone who values scientific progress for the betterment of society might not pay so much attention to the sacrifices he feels he must make to achieve his goals. That is to say, to some extent he believes in justification. A lack of direct (or adequately responsible) oversight can further develop such a mindset. As well, a person can justify much to himself if his actions are endorsed and/or were prior committed by a role model. All this to say I believe Sasha has gone through a lot of learning in his life to get to where we see him in the games. He still struggles with this quandary, obviously, but he is certainly not a cold, heartless scientist. His love for others is likely just as intense as Milla’s, though maybe in a bit more of an abstract way. He understands his role and responsibilities as a Psychonaut. He likes to think he understands when he can or shouldn’t overstep those boundaries. Most of the time, anymore, Sasha is relatively disciplined in his practice through sheer experience. No, I don’t think this was always the case.
Personally, I think he would at first approach the case of Milla with his usual ravenous curiosity. He struggles to stay in the present with her. He gets ahead of himself. He wants her to succeed almost too much, too quickly, not solely for her benefit. I can see Milla daring to put him in his place over this, too. His demeanor doesn’t put her on edge. She may even think to herself that his aloof appearance is comical (perhaps endearing…?). She can tell this man tries to distance himself from the world. It seems to her that he has a need to emotionally separate himself from everyone around him not from a sense of superiority; rather, it is as if he is trying to escape distress. Thus, Milla understands nearly all the time he is successful in enforcing strict interpersonal distances. I genuinely think Milla is the first one to ever get around his defenses, if only to drive him up the wall, because she thinks he is hilarious, and because she gets sick of seeing him so closed off. It’s the only thing she enjoys doing for a time. Rather than feeling humiliated by this, Sasha is humbled, if not outright impressed with Milla. It helps to push their relationship in a positive direction.
It’s a turning point for both of them. Sasha was used to talent alone being his main advantage on missions to help others. He hadn’t fulled grasped what it meant to be a therapist, that it is a give-and-take relationship for both parties. Through Milla’s help he recognizes this was a major cause of his past failures. On the other hand, Milla isn’t miraculously cured. Sasha helps her disable the trauma response and pave the road to her recovery. It’s still there, it just isn’t dominating her mental landscape anymore. Sasha marks her down for having serious potential both in recovery and as an agent.
I have read some great & engaging writing where they start out as colleagues assigned to the same mission. Those were really enjoyable, too, and I think those still adequately explore this interesting antagonistic dynamic they may have had upon first introduction. A lot of people look at these two through their surface level personality traits and are shocked to see them get along so well. I don’t think they are opposites at all, though! Sasha & Milla are totally on the same wavelength. I tend to imagine that neither of them realize their similarities at first, too. Then someday something just clicks and their brains practically fuse together for life. There is.. definitely something to be said about dating your therapist, though, LOL. I can’t say I endorse that. I think it wouldn’t be a problem because they later become partnered agents. The Psychonauts probably have a policy against colleagues fraternizing, but whatever. As if anyone would (could) separate Sasha & Milla.
Ohh and a postscript note. In this little space of thinking I like to imagine that Sasha gives up smoking through Milla’s treatment. She can’t stand the smell of it at first. He has to go back to his hotel and take three showers and rent clothes before he can even do intake with her. It takes ages for Milla to associate the stench of cigarettes with Sasha alone. Eventually, I’m sure Milla does exposure therapy of some sort so she doesn’t feel as distressed around fires/smoke she can’t avoid. This totally is without ulterior motives on Sasha’s part, phobia control is an important part of Psychonaut agent training... He does not miss smoking at all...
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Here's a sketch for the concept I didn't do much with because drawing Milla in distress wasn't fun at all.
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turtlesays · 3 months
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Watched the finale of HH today and really resisting making a Hazbin specific blog…
I really enjoyed season one of HH. Unfortunately, I don’t feel like I can truly support the show because of some of its creators—especially Vivienne Madrano—and the way the creators have treated the people who supported the show in its early days (without which HH would never have made it this far).
This feeling is just compounded by watching HB fall apart at the same time that HH is gaining such success and popularity.
Vivienne really shows her true self in HB. Namely, her lack of writing skills, poor design choices, inability to maintain a plot over more than a few episodes, and general immaturity as a person. While unfortunate, I don’t expect that HB will survive much longer. Even if it survives beyond its current season, it will just be getting propped up by young fans with little to no media literacy and dragged to a slow and painful demise.
Vivienne has also shown her true colours when dealing with the original VA cast of HH. I can understand her desire for bigger name talent on a growing show. I can understand the decision to recast the VAs—even up to 100% of the VAs. My issue is not that those things happened, it’s how they were handled.
Specifically, I have issues with the fact that Vivienne seems to have cut off all of the people who originally supported her. She didn’t tell them they were being recast. She didn’t give them the chance to audition to keep their roles (if desired). She didn’t even invite them to the premiere of HH. As far as I know, she barely acknowledges them or their contributions to her own success.
Beyond her treatment of the original VAs, there have been allegations of workplace harassment, which I’m inclined to glove because so many current employees of Vivienne have both expressed and demonstrated (through their actions) fear of retaliation from Vivienne.
There have been issues with Vivienne not clearly crediting other artists’ work as well, both in fan creations that she reposted from her own account, and in official works for the HH/HB universe.
There’s a lot more to the drama, but (1) it’s too much for a single post, and (2) a lot of the drama has questionable credibility. What I’ve listed so far is what I’ve personally seen the most evidence for/found to be most credible.
However, I wouldn’t doubt too much the other accusations against Vivienne, especially by those who worked for her. I have a very low opinion of her as the creator of a show I enjoy, and really hate giving her any kind of support as a result.
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tabithatwo · 11 months
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HONEST QUESTION by why do u think no one (until shauna did at their fight) ever called jackie out on being oblivious to other people’s feelings? Like we all know jackie is never mean on-purpose nor does she ever want to cause any harm but there are times where she has no idea that she is indeed doing so.. or is somehow influencing that.. And its like why has no one else ever tried voicing this out to her? BC we can clearly see she would’ve done something to change her behavior if it was pointed out. I just dont get why no one tried to other than the fact that it was probably just pretty privilege or people just being too scared to say so
WELL okay this question really got me thinking lmao my answer is sort of twofold so walk with me here…I don’t fully think jackie IS oblivious to other peoples feelings and I don’t think people have any issues calling her out when she misreads tone. The people who do tend to snap at the others when they say stuff that annoys them—off the top of my head shauna (obviously lol), tai, nat, mari, and van—all do at jackie at some point.
I think in canon, with the group as a whole, jackie is actually very in tune with their emotions. She corrals them at the kegger and they genuinely react positively. I think she’s honestly extra in tune with people’s emotions, perhaps partly because has to work a little harder at things. I think that’s why she’s captain.
When I say “off” in my original post, I mean that I think people can sense the way that someone picks up on and addresses behavior (aka loading time/processing/trying to problem solve when that isn’t what’s desired/etc) more than I mean that jackie is saying shit that upsets people regularly. I think that, other than shauna, jackie doesn’t upset them much more than anyone else until later in the season when things get bleaker.
Once they’re in the woods, jackie has lost her entire social script. It’s funny to me how people say she was the enforcer of society, because really I think society has kicked her ass and she’s simply learned how to exist within it and doesn’t know how to adapt to change. This isn’t the setting she’s used to, she doesn’t know how the people she’s learned and adapted to will react to these things, because who the fuck does?? It’s now unpredictable and she’s just really lost in a compounding way. We see her actually cheer people up again when things fall back into a script that she has access to—the seance, doing mistys makeup for her, etc.
As far as shauna goes, she has NO problem letting Jackie know when she’s upset with her lol. She just gives her no clue why. Shauna doesn’t communicate her feelings with anyone really and she certainly doesn’t delve into big picture things. (There’s a tai shauna tangent here that I’ll go on one day but besides that relationship, shauna is really just closed off and expects people, especially jackie, to read her mind.) Shauna snaps or gives the cold shoulder and Jackie adjusts and readjusts, until she’s fixed it the best she can.
I think that shauna’s reaction to being called out for cheating with jeff is something that greatly colors a lot of peoples’ views on jackie, when really it says a whole fucking lot more about shauna herself. Shauna is a horribly fucking unreliable narrator. We see her get confused and forget what her own lies are when she’s fessing up to callie about adam. She was writing her own narratives and letting resentment build even before the crash. So to me, taking what shauna says during that fight at face value, over what we actually see of jackie and their relationship, is a mistake. Shauna’s backed into a corner. She’s caught out. Little miss I’m with homeland security, first panic instinct is to lie is going to make shit up. She was trying to hurt jackie. That was the goal. For a myriad of reasons—I love shauna shipman don’t get it twisted lol. (And we see jackie realize shauna is tying to hurt her. Jackie tries to hurt back for a bit and she sucks at it lol and then she slips back into shocked hurt.)
So anyway, yeah. I think shauna clearly felt overshadowed, but she just does. In general. All the time. We got to see that in 2x09 when she spells it out for us in her journal lol. So using this scene to read jackie as someone who actually does the things shauna is accusing her of feels like a big jump to me.
Shaunas feelings were real. But I don’t fucking think shauna hated soccer. I don’t think jackie ever actually pushed her into her shadow, unintentionally or not. I think that jackie couldn’t navigate shauna’s emotions in any way other than placating when she could and trying to cling to her, because she was constantly terrified that shauna would leave her. Why did jackie expect shauna to go to rutgers? Probably because that’d been their entire fucking plan and jackie had no way of knowing that shauna didn’t want that anymore. I’m gonna talk more about their fight one day when it isn’t a tangent on a different topic lol, but basically I think reading what shauna says in the fight as truth is a common and inaccurate take.
To the last point, I think prettiness definitely impacts a person’s life on like every scale and makes people overlook things they might not normally, but I don’t necessarily feel like jackie got off with no feedback basically. And I don’t think she was actually that hurtful. I’ve talked about the nat situation here and how it’s unique, but that isn’t jackie being oblivious, that’s jackie trying to get an outcome. She is clearly oblivious sometimes (when she tries to give a pep talk post insane leg breaking lol, when she tells travis about who nat has hooked up with, when she is pragmatic about things like rationing food) but really she rarely says overtly hurtful shit, even on accident. She does less so than the other girls.
So I think it all comes back to that thing that a lot of viewers do—view jackie as fake. The fact that she doesn’t really give any evidence of meanness sort of was my point. Even when there is nothing bad said, general social awkwardness can be taken as an indication of insincerity. I think this is sometimes especially true when someone is overall decent at masking, at least enough that they’re superficially seen as well liked. Because then people see a hiccup (which is really an adjustment to new input) and take it as an intentional behavioral change.
(Grain of salt, I am someone who had a keen fucking interest in being as pretty as possible at her age lol, to the degree that when I was asked how I got so good at “beauty stuff” I said “well, you can be weird if you’re hot enough!” Until I learned that was actually NOT the answer people were looking for of course lmao so I am close to the subject of performative attractiveness to skate by and I also know that it only tends to cover more superficial likability—aka homecoming queen, but you’re only got like 1-2 close friends and your teammates have no issue giving you bizarre looks when you miss the mark lol)
Thanks for the ask, clearly it got me thinking. Like a lot. Many tangents and I’m not even sure how well I addressed the questions lol but I don’t feel like going back and making it more focused so this is the ramble we get!! <3
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wanda-little-baby · 1 year
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Twin Surprises - Wanda Maximoff x romanoff!Reader
Summary (pt. 2) : The second half of a particular day, you have a party to prepare and probably perhaps you will succeed
Warnings: very light swearing, culinary messes, alcohol and what follows, maybe there's more?
A/N: There you go, it took me longer than expected, because among other things a week ago my laptop died and this moron that I am was unable to access the account, so here it is with some delay <3
Words: <6K
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(⬆️*spoiler*⬆️)
Honestly, the only reason why you took today as a day off is because today is Wanda's birthday, also Pietro's, calculating that they are twins, but in any case she doesn't know that you know this vital information and until tonight you would prefer her to stay Like this.
In fact, if you hadn't seen the date on the files at the time of Ultron, and then subsequently asked Pietro for confirmation, most likely you wouldn't even know when your girlfriend and her brother was born.
The curious case of the strange family bartender never seen who probably (surely, by now a fact) could have super speed now no longer pushes the strings of your curiosity, you could ask advice from Vision later for a guess you would have made, but still Wanda's birthday is more important.
You have start with your little group of friends, Pietro would have had to keep Wanda away from the compound for at least two hours, just long enough to put the decorations, the cake and everything else, and you and Kate would have taken care of that everything else plus decorations and cake. Exceptional case you did it with Natasha, you texted her in her absence about everything you were putting together and luckily she's back just in time.
Trembling with excitement you had a hard time masking your incoherent happiness which suddenly appeared out of nowhere, especially when dealing with a telepathic girlfriend, but still you made it, finally Pietro and Wanda are officially away from home for the next two hours (hopefully). Now all you need is your team.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
You and Kate walked around the compound, abruptly interrupted everyone from what they were doing and as if nothing was there you both dragged everyone into the kitchen/lounge.
In addition to the thousand questions, which both you and the archer will rightly answer in right time, time plays his part. "So, you're all wondering why Kate and I dragged you here..." with dangling hands, you push to get to where you want them
"Nah I'm more terrified of that crazy smile Kate has"
"I might have an idea" Vision as always, try to express, an idea about everything could almost say. "No Vis trust me you don't have it" absolutely certain, Kate denies any idea, the secret information for weeks only you, Kate and Pietro knew.
"thus... we gathered you here because... it's the birthday of the twins" in the end you blurt out the fact. "and we are planning a surprise party!!!" with so much enthusiasm, much more than you, Kate almost bursts with happiness.
"We need your help, basically only you are not involved, yet" you ask very kindly, gesturing as usual in a very hurried way.
Through shared looks, brief moments of non-verbal (not even mental) communication, you could say that if these here don't accept, Kate would most likely make them accept so much that she trembles to organize this party.
"they are setting us up" silently, not quite, Sam whispers to the poor synthezoid next to him. "it's called team spirit!!!" Kate, which unfortunately overheard, exclaims indignantly.
"I think it could be a bonding activity, it wouldn't hurt to try" so as not to miss, this time in your favor (yeah <3), from its crammed corner in the kitchen, the ai in an almost indestructible body makes one of his comments. "thanks Vis" happy, you thank him.
Thank god, as a good gentleman of the 40's Steve is always available to help where possible. "so what should we do?"
Following another nod of glances between you and the archer you begin to give the tasks. "Okay. Cap, you take care of the decorations, you are a super soldier use these powers" you turn to Steve, explaining to him in detail what he has to do.
Once you're done with the super soldier, you move on to the person who at the same time knows how to be the most annoying and supportive in this huge building, better known as Sam Wilson. "Second, Birdman, you have the drinks, no booze, I don't want it to end like most of Tony's parties, it's a party birthday" you communicate passing over the grimace that comes to you at the mere sound of the word 'Birdman', obviously from the birdman himself.
And third but not third, you pass to the dear synthezoid willing to understand human emotions. "Lastly, Vis, I need some help in the kitchen, you'll be my assistant cook. All clear?" you conclude, looking for further doubts, mostly clarifications because you were very specific.
"And what is the archer up to here?" very pretentious, almost as if he wanted to insinuate something, Sam beckoned to the brunette across the room, a sigh escaped your lips. "Kate will take care of the music, in short, general entertainment, we don't want it to be a funeral home, and if you have any doubts, ask her, she's in charge while I'm in the kitchen" you reiterate, also pointing to the friend in question right next to you, a succession of looks and confirmations between you and her, while you overlook the 'little' puff you heard.
Full of charged emotions as well as tasks to do, you are ready to start this operation, or rather to finish it because it started already weeks ago. "Good. Avengers, let's start the birthday party operation in less than two hours" with folded hands you finish your speech, thrilled by the final result.
"It's terrible name" and "Shut up Sam!" it could be the phrases that followed the name of the operation, and you might even have rolled your eyes at the bickering between Kate and Sam, but surely in the end you know that everything will work out.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
"Vision, how much do you know about Sokovian cooking?" taking quite a few ingredients out of the fridge and various pantries, ask more for general knowledge, to the synthezoid in the role of assistant chef.
"In the Sokovian cuisine as in most of the Slavic peoples there is an abundant use of spices" following you like a dog with its master from one end of the kitchen to the other, it provides data that one cannot fail to notice its robotic nature.
You nod and as you get some bowls and a whisk and the eggs, you mumble. "Hmm it's useless anyway, we need the sweet side of the kitchen. Sokovian pastry that's what we'll do today" placing the objects from your clumsy hands on the island in the center of the room, you begin the plan for the next two intense hours of preparation.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
Meanwhile in evening New York
Convincing Wanda to go out on her birthday was complicated enough even for her twin. The fact that no one, or at least Wanda believed so, knew that today was in fact the birthday of the Maximoff twins, especially the girlfriend of a certain green-eyed brunette, only gave her more weight, and now it was never too late to say something like "Hey it's my birthday today, sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I didn't want to rehash all my destroyed childhood", but really Wanda wants nothing more than to be not intrusive.
The more or less complex key was getting a short loan of Lucky, the golden retriever that Kate had found on the street during a cold December night, before meeting all your merry gang. Of course, Kate loves Wanda very much but his pride put a lot of pressure on the speedster, but in the end Pietro gave in and took courage, after all she is his sister.
Having a dog running around in a billion dollar facility is (probably) not a good thing but hey at least Lucky is quiet, plus he likes pizza and that's a big plus. That's why under the guise of a walk with the literal Avengers mascot, just to de-stress, there were now twins and a dog on the loose on the streets of New York.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
There have been many attempts, really many. So many cakes and various desserts that came out wrong, it would be the fourth time you'd be trying to redo the dough.
You were throwing in the trash with a funeral face when you turned to see an atrocity in progress (yet another of the day). "No no no. Stop!" quickly you run trying to stop the massacre, yet another almost failed attempt, then you remember that you have powers and forcibly remove the spatula from the hands of the cake-killer synthezoid.
"Want to tell me what the hell you were going to do?!" taking the bowl out of your hands, and removing this still undamaged dough as far as possible, you scold Vision for the umpteenth time. "At this point the recipe called for mixing and I was doing it" he replies confused, if the recipe calls for this why are you angry? Human emotions are still a partial mystery to him.
You sigh at his statement, indeed it's true, he had to mix, only that's exactly what he did the other three wrong times, so maybe that's where the mistake is. "You're right. But what do you say if we put a little more flour and maybe this time I'll check if we put sugar instead of salt?" you propose exhausted, placing the bowl on the counter again, with your hands on your hips and already all covered in flour on your arms and bits of your face. "It is a mistake not to be repeated, perhaps adding some more flour could give the required result" comments the red robot thoughtfully, surely inside his mind full of vibranium circuits and the strange gem he has set on his forehead he will be calculating the variable billions possible from this choice, he always does.
"You flour, I sugar. Do you think you can do it?" handing him the bowl, you nod questioningly. "I can try," he replies, optimistic as a human would say, given his previous failures.
While you make sure you have taken the sugar and not the salt, not like the first cake which was practically perfect, just one small detail, it is salty to die for, you hear a thud and then a kind of poof, and when you turn around what you see is exhilarating.
Vision covered head to toe in flour, green and yellow clothes, red skin and everything else completely whitened, only the luminous gem stands out among all the rest. Such a show gives you what out of three failed attempts in the kitchen you deserve, a good laugh. The fact that Vision then looks at you curious as to why you're bursting with laughter only adds to the hilarity of the moment.
"I-if… if you're going to say 'do I have something on my face?' I swear I may never stop laughing" holding back more laughter just so I can talk, you warn him, you really may not stop laughing. Just at this moment, between laughter and another, your best archer enters the chaotic kitchen, who is also amazed by the condition of the synthezoid.
"Oh my god Vision! Did you by any chance give the body a whitewash?" jokingly, Kate makes fun of the white condition covering a Vision quite confused by your reactions. "No no it snowed a few seconds ago!" you join the line of jokes, really in need of this kind of rest. "Miss Bishop, Miss Romanoff, I don't understand the reason for these laughs" naked and raw, as only he knows how to be, in his confusion, still covered in flour to make him look like a vibranium Everest, the synthezoid observes. "It doesn't matter Vis, i-it was fun anyway" still recovering, between a few muffled giggles you wipe some flour off the robot's shoulders.
"Alright, I didn't come here to laugh but anyway... there's a problem there" Kate too with a roll of eyes tries to go on, underlining the problem. As if you felt a ghost pierce your body you turn and your eyes go wide, not ready to know what went wrong.
"I found my favorite pair of 'missing' shoes all gnawed away in the recesses of my closet" pulling the pair of shoes now only to be trashed from behind her back, she says again bewildered that she has been betrayed by her furry pizza-loving dog. "And then, and this is the worst part, from there I think Sam really didn't respect the no alcohol fact and Steve doesn't seem to understand that he has to do the exact opposite of what he's doing" with an air of just exhausted, Kate puts her hand to her forehead, this party hasn't even started and it's already a catastrophe.
You dramatically bangs her head on Vision's chest several times, desperate from the situation, the kitchen sucks, ditto over there... it would take a miracle.
"News from Clint? Tony? Someone, tell me at least something is going according to plan" you complain, continuing to bang your head on Vision's vibranium chest, some lumps of flour fall on you. Kate sighs "Clint is out, the little one is sick, and the whole family is basically in quarantine. Rhodey, as I was telling you he is still on a mission... while, yes Stark he is actually coming soon, nay he should be here considering you know 'him' " one by one she fills you with bad news, the air gets more and more depressing with everything in pieces, but at least there is still Tony left... yeah Tony, you aren't thrilled with what might happen as they're not yet in good shape relationships, but hope dies last.
"Ура! Could you please go over there and fix it, Katie?" almost pleading-eyed, amidst the mess in the kitchen, you speak to your friend. "I would have already gone to lend a hand but, anyway, if you don't mind I need Vision, could you lend it to me?" coquettishly, approaching your position, from the entrance, she puts her arm in arm with the synthezoid looking between you two and with a brief exchange of glances absolutely without even thinking about it you mutter a 'yeah, no problem at all'.
Surely it's not that he really needs Vision, she needs him to stay away from you that's all, the kitchen is an example and Vision really doesn't know how to cook, it's not his fault it's just that he's a robot and has literally never cooked nor eaten before, and then surely to keep him busy it won't hurt them to listen to human relationships, after all he wants to understand us.
As Kate literally drags Vision away from the battlefield that has become the poor kitchen, you lip a 'thanks' directed at her so she can get the message. Now with the free kitchen, you literally have to do it all over again in much less time and you probably also have to write to Pietro to keep Wanda away a little longer, even if she might get suspicious.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
With a flick of the wrist you change your clothes to some less floury ones, tie a quick knot in the apron around your waist and roll up the sleeves. Give your floury hair a good clean with a few shakes, and style it into a bun so it doesn't get in front of your face, and you're ready to go.
Not knowing literally how much or what specifically should be consumed at a birthday party, and with time running out, you improvise.
From what you have understood in recent years, anything, whatever power you have, is greatly influenced by emotions, the stronger they are and the greater the power they release, in short, you have had examples of it.
With a huge din, with a flick of the wrists, all the pots, ladles, spoons, loads of other objects come out of their closets and in an orderly dance on a reddish river they float through the kitchen. One by one, commanded by the co-pilot, they are set aside in sections, various pastries being prepared at the same time, while only the cake remains for you, the fifth one this time to be made again.
As you predicted, or as Kate had told you, Tony arrived shortly after your accelerated preparation starts and almost gave you a heart attack, causing a culinary catastrophe, so you dismissed him with a red-eyed gaze that could rival those of an angry Natasha.
Speaking of the redhead, your mother didn't fail to arrive quite later, but this time it will have been for feeling or because you are practically almost coded to hear even the smallest detail that makes you feel the presence of her you were prepared.
She'd asked you if you'd like a hand in the kitchen, seeing four different groups of reddish flying things plus you all sweaty and busy, but you literally begged her to go check the living room and how the party preparations were because you weren't going to make Natasha "I can burn even water" Romanoff cook for no one reason at all, especially not now.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
Finally, after about an hour and three quarters, according to someone *cough* Vision *cough*, you were done.
Three trays of pastries, various sweets and all particular stuff, mixed from international and Sokovian cuisine. Your greatest pride is the cake, this time it's a masterpiece, finely decorated with the symbolic colors of the celebrated, a typical Sokovia recipe was the background.
It's also true that you trashed your initial project and took something else but you still have the corpses of past havoc laid on the counter, there were four deaths on this day, all newborns died, and sooner or later you'll have to get rid of them unfortunately.
You've just finished taking everything out of the stove and you should go to the living room to see how to place the food, before coming back and plating everything, and the anxiety is a lot.
You were ready for something, definitely not what you found when you came out of the kitchen and went looking for the rest of the team. The living room is breathtaking, all lit up, streamers hang from the lights, the sofas moved to make room for some tables with paper plates and cutlery on them in a row and plastic cups next to them, there are also chips and various crap, things that absolutely they had slipped your mind, the decorations scattered throughout the room that recall a little sokovia everything is great and you are... you are simply speechless.
It didn't take long for y'all to put the finishing touches, sure, you don't know who did the magic but flush wire you did it. Throwing a party may not have been one of the skills you would have expected to have to get the job done, but when you're dealing with someone like Tony Stark, you see a lot of parties and you know what to do and what not to do to avoid inconvenience (yes, you know about that party at Malibu :-| ). As luck would have it, just shortly after you've just finished everything, the robotic female voice of FRIDAY warns you of the imminent arrival of the twins, this was the time to disappear.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
In a deep silence, the lights at least not too much "help something abnormal is going on", dimmed to preserve the surprise effect. Seven of the mightiest heroes on earth have hidden themselves in the most disparate places in one of the relax room which has officially become (under your "acute observation") the living room of the compound, shortly waiting for the speedster and his beautiful sister, the celebrated.
"- yes anyway I don't believe you, surely you're plotting something" in the lobby of the floor, just outside the lift, the two Sokovians argue. "Сестра (Sestra) I would never allow myself" with his hand on his chest, as if offended, Pietro teases his sister.
A small meteorite, wearing some rings, hits the shoulder of the speedster, apparently not too fast to dodge his sister's punches. "Глупо" she murmurs at the same time as the blow, followed by a not at all serious ouch, in practice it's always the same Pietro, with his usual behavior.
Crossing the hallway, the atmosphere absolutely still if it weren't for the few lights deliberately left on, Wanda is starting to believe that something has happened, it's never so silent in here. And most of all she misses her nocturnal koala, it was a crappy day for her and she just wants to be with her favorite person, maybe this birthday mess of hers can fix it next year.
"Wait Lucky!" Wanda exclaims suddenly when the golden retriever she was holding on her leash snaps and escapes from her hands running towards the dark living room. "Why is this room so dark..." the girl gropes into the open space, looking for the light switch, the pitch dark doesn't help with the fact that Pietro suddenly seems to have disappeared, when only a few seconds ago Wanda was sure he was behind her.
All the lights in the room come on revealing the magnificent sight. "Surprise!" all the voices of the team, even Pietro, exclaim together, surrounding Wanda.
Quickly her eyes become bright with emotion. Seeing the room decorated, this group of people, with some of her she bonded more than others, all this they organized for her and her brother's birthday, she just didn't expect it.
It's pure madness that you've somehow managed to keep someone you've been plotting for so long on the back burner, considering you literally live together, but it has to be a testament that someone up there loves you.
The disbelief she feels when she finishes looking around the room and she stops right in front of you is such that even with her mouth closed in her hands she can't concentrate and speak. "Would you like to say something, Wands?" you look into her eyes that she tries to hide with her hands. In order not to show her, seized with shame, she closes the short distance between you two and hides her face against your chest.
"How did you know that?" she mumbles against your chest, sheltered a little from the outer ears.
I may have had some tips
You look towards Pietro and Wanda also follows your gaze up to her brother, several unsaid speeches you exchange. "Happy Birthday девушка из ситкома" you kiss her hairline, the last part elicits a few giggles from a certain redheaded russian, and an awww from someone corny and a close friend of yours when your mom told her what were you saying. "Well how about we start this party? Or get a room because we don't want to see this all night" pointing between you two, Tony broke that bubble you had created. And so it was that an elbow hit the side of the genius, all for a little joke about her daughter.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
Before long, the party was in full swing. If there's anything we're good at besides saving the world, most of the time, it's rocking a party. As you predicted, the polite no-alcohol request, completely trampled upon. Did you expect it? Of course. If there is Tony Stark at a party it's impossible that there isn't alcohol.
Between various chats, light music in the background and Lucky wandering from one person to another, a good part of the evening is already passing. It's right here that between a talk about uranium decomposition (I don't have a clue how we got to this) and how fast Tony's armor can go just to keep up with Pietro that Kate brings an avalanche of board games and stuff like that.
After the umpteenth game of scrabble, interrupted because you really can't play against a living dictionary, Sam's words, you have given fruit to your improvisation skills with the game of mimes.
To say it was exhilarating is an understatement, you had to guess among other things which team member one of you was imitating. Obviously there were the classics, the robot for Vision, the slightly more creative one, the right hand to the chest as if to sing the national anthem, obviously for Steve. Couldn't miss a bird, it was hilarious, it always is when it's dealing with Sam, tying the shoes is a clear tip for the team sprinter according to Steve, yet he had to give another hint.
Sam played it hard miming Natasha, he got on his knees and stayed that way until y'all understood and burst into laughter, well at least not all of you. Then it was your turn, or at least someone had to imitate you. She took revenge, your mother took revenge for laughter by imitating when you sit down you take a book in your hand and absolutely angry you start leafing through it without even reading and lightning with deadly looks anyone who approaches you even by mistake, needless to say that among all those laughing you were a little ashamed.
Wanda had a classic from her twin, the usual hand gestures and go, Tony too did it quite well of course only people who are quite night owls remember his lightning naps. Vision's imitation of Kate in one word: "pure gold". Okay maybe there are two but this is the gist, robots don't know how to mimic people and when they do it's too funny.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
In a brief moment of pause, you went to the kitchen to get more glasses and napkins, and Wanda followed. When she saw the mess in the kitchen her heart melted, she lingered on the savory pie, you had decorated it out of depression, she was almost successful and since it was salty you just put a "who cares?" because nobody would care about the pie. Instead she put her foot down and wanted you to take a picture of her holding the cake.
"Seriously?! Do you want a photo with this cake... this cake here?" amazed you look at Wanda holding the plate of cake in her hand.
The girl sighs, she will have to fight for this maybe. "Come on, it's a very good cake even if it's salty! Take this picture come on..." with two big sweet eyes, plate held in front of her, she want to bribe you with sweetness.
You raise your eyebrows, you know too well what she's doing, and she's winning... as always. "Like always, we end up doing what you want" you raise your hands theatrically along with your eyes.
Initially she doesn't seem to react to your answer but when you pick up your early 2000s instant camera and snap the picture she raises an eyebrow and satisfied, after the shoot she sticks her tongue out.
"Thank you that you're pretty" you make a fake face, when the photo is developed you shake it and look at the result.
Cute even when you make faces, or make fun of me
As a teenager, Wanda blushes from cheeks to ears, and as you look at the photo she takes your arm. "Come on cakes girl let's go enjoy the amazing party you threw for me"
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
Head back to the party, Lucky nearly knocked you over as hard as he lunged at you. "Hey puppy, you almost showed me the stars" you scratch him behind the ear, he wags his tail happily.
Having a pet isn't something you've ever done, but since Lucky's been here you've become a dog lover in a snap of your fingers. Although the first time, he peed on Vision's leg.
"Oh girls, we've been waiting for you" sitting on one of the sofas, Steve greets us. Well yes, in the few fifteen minutes perhaps, Pietro had decided to do karaoke, he had arbitrarily taken and brought a microphone with all the rest of the equipment in a flash, and there was a discussion between him and Sam about who should start.
"OH MY GOD. Like OH MY GOD. Where did you get this from!" when you turn around and see all the equipment in plain sight and Pietro handling it, you're too excited.
"Apparently someone here is full of surprises" Tony refers to the boy, surprised you might say.
After the whole Sokovia incident, even before, he feels responsible for everything that happened to the twins, if only he had realized sooner. Relationships are almost always electric between those three, he tries, you try, but it's simply too early; they spent their whole lives hating the big bad Tony Stark for killing their parents, some things are not easy to forget forgive and move on.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
After a couple of minutes you decided who started first and unfortunately few participate.
"You can't stay there and let just humiliate the four of us..." you complain talking to the four sitting on sofas, more with the three humans, for Vision it can be enough with ridiculous acts to do. "five!" Sam corrects you, he's the only one besides the four of you who wants to sing.
"Yeah, though... that's not right!" you huff angrily, if you have to fall at least they have to fall with you. "Life isn't fair" Tony retorts loudly, now you can only glare at him.
"Well I haven't sung since 1944, I wouldn't mind trying" a little joy ignites at Steve's words, even if Kate's stifled giggle makes you think it's going to end badly, but anyway you thank him. "Thanks Steve"
In a last ditch effort, you cast a questioning glance at the billionaire, so much is the question in the air. "I pay for the house, food, water, electricity and all the technological gadgets, basically I'm more of a mother than this one, isn't that enough for you?" giving a futile future to your efforts, he liquidates you by putting your mother in the middle as well.
It's normal that you pay for everything here! Who among us is a billionaire?! Literally, I don't know which of us has income in our bank accounts! Then we've got a robot, one guy that's supposed to be old and death, and a lot of other people that I don't think people would want to hire. Paying is your job
"Ты была бы очень плохой матерью в этом случае, так как мы справляемся сами" arms crossed, you grumble sulkily, he doesn't understand you anyway, so he has no reason to hear. "Ты же знаешь, что он подумает, что мы плохо о нем говорим?" Natasha answers your words with curiosity, mostly with amusement.
"Вот почему я учу языки, мама" you smirk, and slowly knowing you've got everyone's full attention basically, you spell out. Your mother rolls her eyes, gives you a smile and slowly shakes her head, she could be your accomplice "Ах да, верно, Тони Старк - негодяй" finally she says, only to alarm the interested party's ears
During the short conversation in Russian, a matter of less than a minute, you had everyone's eyes on you. And when you're done, Tony's face is almost indecipherable.
"I have no idea what you said thus in advance I feel deeply offended, so I will stay here, enjoy this delicious cocktail and your performance" obviously finding an excuse, he settles down on the sofa and sips from the glass. You give him one last look and then roll your eyes
A cough gets your attention. "Can we start?" Pietro nods to you, and you shrug.
"Kate, the stage is yours" you sit down and Kate scrolls through the song list.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
If Kate hadn't thrown herself into sports, technically into being a superhero but sport was a means, yes, however, she could devote herself to singing. Of course, the song she chose was completely wrong, but the voice is there, at least you hope.
Running away from the stage of shame, you relieved her, and after a bit of searching you found the perfect song. You dedicated it to Wanda, after all it's her birthday, and you might have gone a little too far with the saccharine stuff because you made her cry, in fact, after your performance, complete with applause, you reached her and you probably won't move from there because Wanda has no intention of letting you go from her arms.
The performance plus, something, is that of Pietro, with his behavior you could not expect otherwise, at least he made the atmosphere even lighter.
Strangely Sam's went well, no one laughed, everything perfectly. In your nerdy searches you may have found old footage from WWII, and some may even have been on Steve (*cough*A Star Spangled Man with a Plan *cough*) , but you were definitely not expecting what you got, an excellent performance.
You: Wow this went better than I expected. Hmm... Wanda?
Wanda: Yes?
You: You know it's your turn right?
Wanda: I don't want to go... come on you know I'm shy about these things. Isn't it better if I'm here with you?
You: Come on!!! At least if you don't want to make a random song take your guitar and play something with it... please?
Wanda: Don't even talk about it! I have no intention of playing... and... and then who was it that said we always do what I want?
You: I warn you, your guitar is arriving in your hands in a few seconds
Wanda: Now I hate loving you
While your girlfriend muttered to herself, and sincerely even when she pouts you want to kiss her nose, you still announce her entrance.
"Guys, you will never believe it, but now Wanda will delight us with a sweet melody played by her" absolutely convinced you announce, Wanda would like to sink into the sofa in a while and not re-emerge so as not to do it.
Wanda: Ugh... God... please bury me now
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
In the end, between grimaces and some not very serious threats, you managed to get Wanda to stand up, the guitar in your hand, and lots of love (also teasing) in her eyes.
Well if she sings like the first time I heard her then... wow
You are walking quietly in the hallway, thought you were going to the library, or maybe you were walking down to go to training, when a sweet melody caught the attention of your ears, it was Wanda. You stood for a couple of minutes at the door jamb, enchanted by the way Wanda was singing, almost angelic.
Lying on her back, on the edge of the bed, when she looked up and saw your shape, a wave of shame and embarrassment hit her.
She almost threw a pillow at your face if you didn't dodge, and then you might have apologized for scaring her.
The fact is that in the end while Wanda was singing you were there for her. And at the end of the performance, there were whistle and applause, you basically cheered Wanda.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
There was the cake after, candles and all, and the compliments you might have gotten might have boosted your foodie ego even more, but hey if you're making the cake for your girlfriend birthday it makes sense you put all your effort into it yourself.
But now, from that precise moment on, your memories are fuzzy, it must surely have been the alcohol you ingested and it didn't help the challenge between you and Pietro to see who gets the most shots; and you already a little tipsy you overlooked the fact that his accelerated metabolism makes it literally impossible for him to get drunk, obliviously like a dumbass that you are you accepted.
For some reason you're shooting yourself a shot one moment, then you go dancing for some weird reason with *hazy mist*, but you think it's Wanda, and then you don't know how but you're watching a dance competition and your mom and Steve are dancing great, and for some reason you're rooting for them.
On top of that you believe, in the drunken haze you've blown a hole in someone's foot with Kate's arrows, and you definitely need to check that tomorrow, if you ever get over that giant hangover.
After the memory of dragging each other, perhaps in threes, with Wanda, between giggles and drunken conversations, down a hallway, you hope that of the bedrooms, you have a gigantic scary darkness, the most scary thing after a party... the day after.
ᗢ⧗── ・ 。゚⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ
The blinding light from the window, that thing so painful it hurts your ears. The head that feels like it's about to explode, and you probably don't think you can get out of bed, maybe you wouldn't even be able to raise a hand let alone all of yourself.
Too much light, too loud, too drunk
At sloth speed, you turn face down in bed, and with what little energy you have you close the curtain with a few red threads.
You don't feel like moving, or doing anything else, especially talking or seeing, you could fall into depression if you do.
Screams suffocated in the pillow, even if there is very little to suffocate, you complain.
"I will never drink again"
A bad hangover awaits you to deal with today
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Text
‘Jealousy’
Dr Strange x fem! reader!
I LOVE THIS ONE but its super long <3
SMUT 18+
‘’Where the fuck is it?’’ You groaned into the air surrounding your room, the reality of your diary going missing hitting you like a speeding truck at a red light. You weren't even out of your dress yet.
Your mind was running rampant with the sly idea of someone in the Compound taking it and scanning over your inner most thoughts dwelling in the deep dark lagoonless cave of your mind. You left it at the Compound a few weeks ago but you specifically remembered bringing it home to your apartment. But there was no sign of it anywhere. As you toppled over your cabinets and drawers, you attempted to soothe your nerves with the idea that you had just misplaced it somewhere around here and it made you look at the clock. It was 1:43 am. You had been rummaging around for two hours. Life was starting to blur into something pointless. You accepted your fate with a sigh, the fact that you couldn't journal tonight made you uneasy. You just had so much to say, tonight was so... eventful.
Believe it or not, you were actually excited for this night. Stark always threw the most extravagant of parties and now you were regretting it all. Shame and embarrassment was brewing on your face, the red flushing against your cheeks illiciting a cold sweat appear upon your brow.
Everyone was gathering and conversing aand it only added to your nerves. Stephen Strange had absolutely nothing to do with it. At all. Your toes curled into your heels as you glanced at Stephen, it was impossible not to rip your eyes away from him as he was literally standing across from you. He was intensely handsome and was oozing with sex appeal.
However, you couldn't really look at him the same as you accidentally overheard something that you shouldn't have. It was Stephen on the phone- on the phone with a woman. He had scurried away from the party as if no one would ever notice if he was gone- you always noticed.
‘’I just want to see you right now, but I can't. I'm stuck at am Stark party.’’ He huffed against his phone. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his disheartening response. Stephen wanted to leave? Leave you? You heard the woman giggle across the line and it made a certain sort of jealousy bubble inside of your gut. You couldn't hear what she said in response though.
‘’You gonna fuck yourself and pretend it's me?’’ Stephen rasped huskily against the phone and it made you scramble to stop listening and go back downstairs. You were blushing like a flustered idiot; you hated admitting that you were jealous of whatever young, bouncy, brainless woman he was fucking next- you were everything that they didn't have.
As you made your way down the hall, carrying your blush with you, your body was met with Sam's broad torso and your nerves were anything but pacified- this was it, you were caught in the act.
‘’Y/N? What are you doing up here?’’ Sam questioned.
‘’Oh, nothing...Just went to the bathroom.’’ You gave him a sweet, awkward smile hoping he wouldn't interrogate you and would let you off the hook instead.
‘’Oh, so you weren't chasing Strange down?’’ It was obvious he saw right through you and your instant psyche mechanism was to be defensive.
‘’What? Hell no. I just needed a piss Sam. Are you seriously questioning my piss right now?’’ You laughed condescendingly.
‘’No I'm questioning how much 'you want Stephen to defile you' but I don't know I think I might just be pulling that out of my ass.’’ Sam chuckled at you knowingly as he took his laugh with him as he walkedaway from you. What the fuck? He knew your secret. Fuck this.
‘’What?’’
‘’I'm actually kind of jealous of him, the guy gets so much pussy. I wonder how he does it.’’ His voice trailed off as he finally left your view.
He just had to rub salt into the wound
What made you worry was you remember writing something extremely similar in your diary about Stephen defiling you. Wait. Has Sam read your diary?
No. Impossible. No one has seen your diary, no one has read your dirty and dark desires which mostly included Stephen. You were just reading into things and being paranoid.
No one knows anything. Everything is fine.
Your paranoia was poisoning you. You couldn't find it anywhere and now all your thoughts were on Stephen. Just him and your impossible jealousy for the women that have had the luxury of being bedded by him. You still haven't made it out of your dress and it was making you increasingly uncomfortable.
You grovelled to your bathroom to get ready for bed and put this ugly night behind you. You winced at the sight of yourself in the mirror. You thought your mind was playing a sick trick on you when you felt a shadow to the right of you, you glanced up again into the reflection and jumped when you saw Stephen behind you; stood with a crooked smile on his face. You jumped and gasped as you registered the fact that he was here.
He was right here. In your house. In your fucking bathroom. You whipped yourself around to fully face him, you regained your usual cynical defensive composure.
‘’You're so...jumpy.’’He remarked and it made you all the more self conscious. He was still in his tux.
‘’What's your issue? What are you doing here?’’ You responded, too tired by your jealousy.
‘’What, so I can't see you?’’
‘’I just don't appreciate you portalling into my shitter.’’ You smiled sarcastically. ‘’And besides, don't you have another bimbo you need to fuck?’’ You walked out of the bathroom and Stephen couldn't help but follow you like a lost puppy.
‘’No I've actually spent most of my nights reading this.’’ You turned around and you observed that he was holding up your fucking diary.
Your whole world was tipping on its side.
‘’Sam stole it for me. He was also on the phone with me tonight as one of my said ‘bimbos.’’’ He explained with a stupid cocky smirk on his face. It was a fucking ploy?
‘’What are you guys, 12!? Give it back now!’’ You tumbled your way to him and tried prying it from his skilled marred hands, but he was edging it away from you as a means of torturing you. As if you needed any more of that. Stephen thought you were adorable.
‘’Relax, you're fine.’’ He said way too casually as if he hasn't read your innermost thoughts.
‘’You know what, I give up. Fuck it and fuck you.’’ You raised your hands up as a means of surrender, your seething tongue piercing through the shame and embarrassment. You sat yourself at the edge of your bed and crossed your arms and legs in a huff, your whole body was tense.
‘’I want Stephen to fuck and ruin me into a different dimension, I don't like wanting someone this bad but he just makes me lose my mind. I hate him though, hate the way all he notices are one trick fucks. I think that's my favourite.’’ He bit his lip and stared right at you reading it and you have never felt so seen, his gaze darked with every utterance.
Stephen had been obsessing over you for a while now, it didn't take him long to understand how jealous you get. Quite frankly it was all thanks to Sam doing the morally devious thing of stealing your diary. But Stephen couldn't help himself, he wanted you to make the first move so that he knew fully that you wanted him back. Stephen was rarely ever nervous when it came to women but you. God, you were his dream. All those other women were to fill the void of you, he pretended that it was you he was fucking but it was all just in his head. He saw you through all of them. You were becoming difficult to supress and extremely hard to read, he just had to make sure is all.
‘’You don't own the name Stephen. Maybe I was talking about another Stephen. Preferably a Stephen who doesn't fuck half the women he sees.’’ Your smile was venomous, you rolled your eyes at him as he made his way over to you.
‘’You are really specific in what you want, aren't you?’ He stared down at you and you felt very challenged under his gaze. You were entirely pissed off. His ego was soaring.
'’And I think you're compensating for something.'’ Your eyes darted to his dick and that made his face harden.
‘’Why is it always you that has to be in denial?’’ It wasn't really a question or a statement and it made confusion plague your features.
Stephen leaned down and pressed his lips to yours as he softly cradled your chin. The action made you shake at the sheer reality of it all, as he pulled himself away to make sure all of this was okay, he gazed into your stunning eyes and found that they were wild and brazen, and also quite surprised. He didn't understand why, he thought he made it excessively clear. The only way to tease it out of you was to make you jealous.
‘’Do it again.’’ You breathed against his lips sensually and he did exactly what you said. Stephen kissed you again, but you were against his lips harder. Opening your mouth to allow his tongue to taste at you, Stephen thought you were immensely sweet. You pulled him in by his tie to get his body heat closer to yours.
You yanked him as you layed down on the bed so he could position himself ontop of you. He shook his blazer off as your hands tugged at his hair. Beautiful bastard. Your mouths were glued together, the scratch of his beard only added to the sensation. You moaned as your tongues intertwined and were perpetually locked in an endless battle.
‘’May I?’’ He asked after ripping his lips away from yours, his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress. Stephen's politeness was another form of torture for you: you just wanted him to destroy you.
‘’Get me naked Stephen. Please.’’ You whispered against his lips and he had never heard anything as erotic as that. His lips tugged into a seductive smile.
He peeled it off you instantly, skin bare and soft and eyes impossibly wide in anticipation. Your tits were drawing his attention first, he paused before he could sink his teeth into them.
Stephen just gawked at you, dumbfouded by the reality of how someone could be that effortlessly beautiful, smart and funny. It was driving him mad.
‘’What?’’ You giggled bashfully as you began undoing his buttons on his dress shirt before ultimately discarding of it on your bedroom floor.
‘’I know you want me to fuck and ruin you into another dimension but...’’ Stephen cut himself off as you began suckling and biting at his neck and ruffling his hair with your hands.
'I want to savour every bit of you, I don't care how long it takes.' Stephen confessed breathlessly and it made you halt in your tracks and blink up at him in his lust clouded eyes.
You guided his hands to toy with the thin string of your underwear and it made Stephen's eyes widen.
‘’Feel how much I want you, feel how wet I am for you. Take whatever you want from me, stretch it out for me. Please.’’ Your kiss was intoxicating and as honeyed as your voice. His fingers ripped away at your panties before he shimmied them down your legs and kicked his pants off.
‘’You're such a good girl. My good girl.’’ Stephen pushed his hard aching cock into you at such an impossible depth. You were so tight it was like you were vacuum sealed to his dick. The use of the pet name made you screw your eyes shut in pure pleasure.
As he began setting a slow yet deep rhythm, his fingers were playing with your already swollen clit. It was all so stimulating- his hands and teeth were taking turns on your tits and it made you throw your head back in pleasure. Your body melted into his perfectly as your back arched off the bed and into him.
‘’Mine. You're mine. Understand?’’ Stephen growled, his eyes locked onto yours as he was making such slow, deep and intimate love to you. Sex has never felt this personal and hot before and it was all his fault and doing.
"Yours.’’ You sighed as he kissed at your neck tenderly. He kept repeating his ministrations were becoming impossible to bear. You felt like you were about to explode.
You found your undoing at that. Being his? Fucking hell. You came hard onto him as his fingers intertwined with your and he held them firmly. Eyes gazing desperately into eyes, he let himself lose it at how you bore your entire soul through them.
That silence when he was just holding you was his favourite part. Stephen finally felt the warmth of you in his arms, tracing little shapes on the soft suppleness of your skin.
Everything just felt so personal tonight, you let him in and he wanted to stay there until he had nothing left to lose but you.
——
wait now that i’m re-reading its hella short fml
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berat-yalaz · 1 month
Text
I MISSED YOU A LITTLE MORE TODAY:
I do not expect everybody to read this. If it's an issue, please just scroll on. It will be dealt with vaguely enough in follow up paragraphs and threads that the main points will be clear without it. This para, and the one that follows, are a bit depressing and deal with some very triggering topics that not everyone will want to read. That's completely okay and I understand if you scroll past. And whilst I know this is role play and it's supposed to be an escape where people don't have to deal with this shit, writing about it is important to me. But I do so fully understanding it's not for everyone's consumption. So please do what's best for you. I never intended to become this attached to Berat, but I also never intended him to be such a reflection of myself. The combination of depression and addiction that I put into his biography is devastating and life ruining and a difficult hurdle to overcome, and the reason it's the most personal and painful one I've ever written is because I understand how that feels. I also understand how the pain of loss compounds it day after day, and makes dealing with both almost impossible. I don't want to not write about this, because the struggle is so fundamental to his character that avoiding it would feel like a cop out. Not everything has a happy end. Not everybody makes it out the other side, because life isn't always as kind as it should be. That said, I want to make clear before the para, because the end is both vague and obviously foreshadowed: his upcoming death is not intentional on his part. The heroin is laced with fentanyl and he has no idea. But in a way, that seemed an even more fitting end than making it a purposeful choice. Still, proceed with caution for these two please. Next one will be from Ayaz later. Thank you. Date: March 16th, 2024. Warnings: Implied future drug use, severe depression, thoughts bordering on un-aliving oneself, precursor to overdose, precursor to character death. I tried to keep it vague, but it hints at a bad time.
How little would she think of him now?
It wouldn’t be unwarranted, of course, after all he’d done. After the pain he’d caused those he would so vehemently say meant the world to him.
Didn’t mean the idea hadn’t hurt, though.
“I missed you a little more today.”
It’d been a consistent routine; for those words, that admission, to be the last to leave him before he sought sleep. Survived one more day without her. This time, though, as Berat ventured further into the rundown and disorganised mess of a flat, he picked up the photograph of the woman in question from its home on the mantelpiece. Even the most beautiful smile in the world, the kindest eyes looking right back at him, couldn’t stop the hurt today. Neither were a match for the gnawing in his chest, and the guilt buried so deep in his gut he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten…
It’d been three weeks since Kerem had found out about him and Nevra.
Three weeks since he’d dared leave his home.
Three weeks since even Nazli had stopped trying.
And he deserved that, you know. He deserved to lose the only person who’d stuck by him through his darkest moments, because eventually, everyone had to run out of chances. Berat didn’t know whether it was the personal betrayal of Kerem that’d pushed her over the edge, or the fact he’d chosen the woman who’d been indirectly responsible for his downfall in the first place—a Rutherford sympathiser, to twist the knife—but she’d drawn a line, and he’d heard it loud and clear.
This time, he wasn’t worth the struggle.
And that was okay. And Berat didn’t blame her. And maybe it would have saved them all a whole lot of pain if she’d just made that same realisation a few years earlier.
The man flipped the pristine wooden frame he now held in his hands, carefully turning the clasps at the back so he could remove the photograph held within. Berat wasn’t sure he’d ever been bold enough to do so since he’d put it there; so scared of damaging one of the few tangible reminders he had left that he could only ever want to observe from a distance. Maybe that was a lesson he should’ve carried through into life, too. To not risk irreparably marring precious and beautiful things he’d never fucking deserved in the first place.  
He was holding it, then. A piece of paper in his hands all he had left.
And he was glad today that she was gone so she didn’t have to see him like this.
They all told him they wanted him to be happy, but he’d never asked it to find him the way it had. Life was cruel like that, he supposed. With one hand it gave, and the other, it took away so much. So why didn’t happiness ever seem to be an ultimatum for anybody else? Berat had never sought out Nevra expecting to love her the way he did, and he’d sure never done so with the intention of hurting his best friend. But for a man whose life had been so devoid of meaning and good and anything worth trying to be a better fucking person for, how could he not want for it?
You won’t let yourself be happy. And for a long time, that was because he didn’t feel he deserved to feel happiness in a life without Ceren.
But now he wanted for that relief with the only person who’d made him feel worthy since, and the brutal reality was that it meant walking all over somebody else’s in the process.
Did Kerem have the same dilemma when he’d found Emine?
Ayda, when she’d left him?
The slow, year-long retreat he’d made from them hadn’t been an accident, and surely they must have realised that by now. It hadn’t been because he didn’t care, or because he was so scared one of them would pick up on the signs that they’d catch him in a lie. It wasn’t self-preservation, it wasn’t self-pity, and it wasn’t a choice to move on. It was because he couldn’t fucking stand himself anymore. The mere sight of what looked back at him in the mirror fucking repulsed him. So why should they have been forced to endure him, too?
Even his mother felt the sting of distance. Because where his conscience apparently lacked so far as Kerem was concerned, he couldn’t put her through the pain of witnessing her son descend into yet another downward spiral.
The woman had suffered his poor choices for long enough.
Berat removed his phone from his pocket. Replaced it, slowly and carefully so as not to damage the edges or risk a fold, with the photograph of Ceren.
Oh, she deserved so much better than where they were going.
But he didn’t want to do it without her.
Didn’t want to do any of this without her, really.
He finally glanced down at his phone. The lock screen was littered with messages from people he was too ashamed to respond to; friends, family, people who’d been waiting for him to fuck up again. Because they all were. Even the ones who’d never admit it aloud because they liked him just enough to pretend they had faith he could do better. Kerem was one of them. Whilst he might’ve loved his friend, Berat could always see it in his eyes; gaze somewhere between disappointed and pitying. But none of them had expected something like this.
But neither had he, and that seemed to be lost on them.
One name stood out from all the others, and for a brief moment, he smiled. He smiled in spite of all that’d happened, in spite of his nausea, in spite of the exhaustion, in spite of feeling so trapped that he still couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel he’d forced himself into.
Nevra.
Wondering where he was, no doubt.
‘I love you.’
And that message he carefully typed out with unsteady hands wasn’t a warning sign in itself when he told her as much every chance he got. Told her with the sincerity and gratitude of a man who’d never thought he’d say the words again and mean them like this.
Because Berat did love her.
Hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t wanted to. Couldn’t help it, though.
A part of him had known from the start that there was never going to be a happy ending for them. Never going to be a ‘them’ for the long haul at all and he’d tried to make her understand that before they got too deep. His reluctance to deal with their situation, to be open about what was happening, to speak with Kerem so they didn’t have to keep living a lie had been frustrating for a woman who deserved better. Certainly, deserved more than he could ever give. But his aversion to confronting his choices had less to do with cowardice and more to do with fear of losing the one person in his life who made breathing a little easier.
Fear of losing this beautiful and unexpected thing he didn’t deserve, but was too selfish to give up.
Yet now, he realised none of it mattered. He was going to lose it all, regardless.
Maybe that was okay, though. Maybe he’d just deal with it like he always did.
Maybe he’d just fucking suffocate under the weight.
Maybe he’d die.
Berat reached into a glass dish to grab a handful of fifties. The Turk could hardly be ashamed of stooping so low as to pawn a sentimental watch after all he’d done. It was too small a guilt to scratch the surface. A small mercy, he supposed.
He put out extra food for the dogs. Extra water, too.
Left the television on so they’d at least have the illusion of company until his mum showed up to take them for breakfast in the morning.
Berat didn’t know when he’d make it back, but he was hoping it’d be a while.
Long enough to take the edge off. Long enough to stop feeling.
“I’ll be there soon,” he reminded her out loud as his hand slipped in to feel for the photograph in his pocket.
If only someone would just let him.
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pynkhues · 12 days
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Hi! I just read an extremely popular Brio fic and it was wonderfully well written but I found I kept losing interest. I realized it’s bc while Rio felt somewhat authentic for the AU, Beth seemed like a completely different character. There wasn’t really much background information on her so the changes didn’t really make sense to me, even in an AU setting.
How do you approach AU settings to make sure the characters feel connected to the originals? Like in your pornstars AU I can still see Beth in there, even if it’s not something I would have ever expected of her! So I’m curious as to how you approach that.
Also why do you think this seems to happen more to Beth versus Rio? Are people just projecting themselves onto her you think? Idk I just feel like she has such a strong personality that I’m curious why I seem to feel that way in some fics.
Anyways, love your work 🩷🩷🩷
Hi! Thanks for your lovely words, although I'm sorry for your experience with that other fic. It can be such a bummer when we're overall enjoying a story - whether fic, or books, or shows - but for whatever reason it's just not quite landing. I know the feeling pretty well, haha.
For me, I find that capturing a character in all writing is basically about distilling two things:
What they want
What they need
These two factors in so many ways embody the main narrative arc of a story. In fact, many author talks I've been to suggest that plot in its entirety is a matter of asking three questions - what does a character want? What's standing in their way stopping them from getting what they want? And how will they overcome this obstacle? I don't entirely agree with this, and it's not a method of plotting that I personally subscribe to these days (although I have used it in the past and still sometimes find it helpful when I'm stuck), but I do think it can be useful to think about in terms of the role character motivation contributes to story overall.
More to the point though, I find dividing a character's wants and needs to be super useful, both in terms of analysis and writing, as to me, it's those wants and needs that really feed into everything when it comes to characterisation.
Beth's actually a great example of this as her want vs need are both complimentary and frequently in conflict with each other:
What Beth wants is to earn enough to save her house, provide for her children and get herself, her sister and her best friend to a point of financial security that doesn't leave them in a state of constant free fall.
What Beth needs is to feel real self worth, to connect with the woman inside of herself beyond wifehood, motherhood and even sisterhood, and to be seen and acknowledged as that woman by people she respects (i.e. Rio, but not just him). She needs to be seen as capable, and to feel autonomous and in control of her future.
Both of these wants and needs have greater implications when filling in the details of a character. In Beth's case, her adultification as a child in raising her sister feeds her lack of identity as an adult at the start of the series and her need to find herself (she's been raising children her whole life!), Dean's cheating compounds those feelings of self-worth, and him losing the family house is what becomes the catalyst for Beth to act. Her wants are created due to the situation Dean forces her into, her needs have been there for a lot longer than that.
When writing fic in general, but especially AUs, I try not to change the wants or needs of the characters. Like I said, I tend to view them as pretty crucial to the character overall, but I also think those wants and needs are what makes me feel connected to them as opposed to other characters or other shows. Those are the things I like! Why would I want to change them?
And anyway, I tend to find it super fun figuring out how those wants and needs might guide characters in a different setting. In both the porn star AU and the pirate AU, I really wanted to use the time period, the industry and the context of those story worlds to see how Beth might navigate her needs and wants, and to see how those factors might influence the shape of her story arc. It was pretty interesting to realise that I didn't think much changed, even in the pirate AU which is set so far in the past. I hope that means I understand her as a character, or at least, I guess, my interpretation of her, haha.
As for other writers - - yeah! I mean, in some ways I do think Rio's probably easier to write because his own wants and needs are more ambiguous on the show and he's therefore a little more malleable in fic. A lot about him can be true when we ultimately saw so little of him, whereas Beth, as you said, has such a strong personality and defined character that to change elements of her voice or her background, or to make certain decisions for her, can leave us with the age old feeling of: 'she wouldn't do / say that'.
I do think that, especially by the end of the series, there was a not insignificant portion of the fandom who didn't like her so ultimately wrote her differently (I personally had issues with the fact that so many people wrote Rio as punishing and Beth as both taking and deserving that punishment, which is why some high profile fics in the fandom aren't of particular interest to me), but I think there are other factors as well.
Yes, some projection, yes, some who mostly wrote her to be able to write about Rio, yes, some who were simply disinterested in her interiority, but I also think GG was a lot of people's first fandom, and a lot of people's first time writing fic, and that ultimately, Beth was a complicated character who only got more complicated over the four seasons of the show. She's not easy to write, and I do think the fandom was chockfull of talented writers, but a lot of talented writers who were still ultimately pretty new to writing.
I've been writing for a long time (man, I think I worked out that I posted my first fic when I was about 13 which was like, twenty years ago now, haha, and I had my first short story published in a journal at 19 too), and ultimately writing is a skill like anything else - you get better the longer you do it. :-)
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wolfeyedwitch · 1 year
Note
Trail of Blood with Weapon? Bonus points if it shows a bit of what Weapon’s abilities actually are
Tumblr media
Takes place after "Force Feeding" but before the main storyline.
CW: blood, gore, amputations, minor character death, conditioned whumpee, it as a pronoun, internalized dehumanization, living weapon whumpee, implied minor whumpee
Masterlist
---
“Weapon is in position. All handlers, stand behind the Weapon,” Command’s voice came crisp and clear through the Weapon’s earpiece. 
It flexed its fingers, taking advantage of the momentary freedom of movement. Its mitts were only taken off for demonstrations; as soon as it had fulfilled its purpose, the mitts would be put on again. ‘Like the safety on a gun,’ a handler had once called it.
“Weapon. Fire.”
It raised its hands, palms extended towards the building in front of it. 
A second later, the screams started.
This was a larger demonstration than it had done before. Previously, it had demonstrated its powers on prisoners brought into the compound. Now, though, Command wanted to demonstrate its ability to neutralize enemy agents while leaving infrastructure intact. 
Meaning the Weapon had to focus its powers to disintegrate biomatter only. 
It lowered its hands after a long moment, breaths coming slightly faster from the exertion. The building was still intact, so that objective was achieved. The objective in question was the elimination of the targets inside.
Surely that had been enough? If nothing else, the screaming had stopped.
“Hold position. Scanning for bio-signs,” Command’s voice came again.
Behind it, the handlers shifted uneasily. They had gotten increasingly disturbed by the Weapon as its demonstrations grew in scale. 
A different voice came through the comm. “There’s still one bio-sign inside the structure, sir.”
“Handlers, escort the Weapon. Weapon, eliminate the remaining threat.”
The Weapon gave a short hum of acknowledgement and held back a wince. Even though it had been weeks since the surgery to place its communication device, its throat still operated at less than maximum efficiency when it made vocalizations. 
Slowly, the Weapon entered the building with its handlers barely a pace behind. It recalled the schematics for the structure and began to clear it room by room as it had been trained.
It didn’t take much searching to find the surviving hostile. Their trail was easy to follow, given that it was marked in blood.
The trail began as mere drops, but quickly grew. The Weapon walked, trying to avoid the blood. Despite its attempts, its shoes were soon soaked in the liquid. It swallowed down bile at the subtle squish beneath its feet as it continued walking. 
It knew from its training that the human body contained approximately ten pints of blood. But it was one thing to know that fact in the abstract, and another to be confronted with the truth of it in viscous puddles. 
The trail changed again, now smeared across the floor as though something had been dragged through it. The Weapon didn’t understand why until it reached the end of the trail, and the woman who had made it.
The woman’s legs were gone. Her thighs ended in ragged stumps. Only one arm remained intact, with the other ending just below the elbow.
Seeing the woman’s blistered, peeling skin, the blood smeared across her arms, her belly, her thighs, the Weapon realized what must have happened. Wherever she had been when it began its attack, she had avoided most of its power. Most— but not all. As she tried to escape, more and more of her had disintegrated until she was forced to drag herself along with what remained of her limbs. 
Behind the Weapon, one of the handlers let out a string of curses in a prayerful tone. Another retched softly.
Seeing this woman, the Weapon couldn’t help but wonder what she had done to deserve this. It knew such thoughts were detrimental to its functionality, but… it failed to see any malice in her frightened eyes. 
“No,” she whispered. “Please, no. Kid, please, please…”
It couldn’t allow itself to be swayed by such displays. It was deployed to ensure the safety and security of all lawful citizens of this nation. It wouldn’t have been deployed against this woman unless she posed a threat.
She wouldn’t survive anyway, either. Not with the blood she’d lost. The least it could do was ensure her death was swift, rather than drawn out.
It raised its hands again. 
---
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dwreader · 1 month
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Anne rice based lestat on her husband. I'm sorry but she always had louis stuck on that man even in the first book already its not like she changed her mind later on. Lestat was the looming husband figure. It's just so sad to see yall turn on the writers when the thing is yall have been chronically online + nursing resentment toward lestat&his fanbase and are now mad he doesn't get his comeuppance by louis having a much more passionate relationship w/ armand.
anon pls tell me when i have ever said loumand would ever take precedence over loustat on this show alsjsjajkas lmao like the ppl behind the show have announced multiple times that it’s about loustat and like primarily lestat i would argue based on rolin’s comments. literally the ONLY part of the book that i had any expectation wouldn’t be completely turned into a lestat extravaganza is the loumand courtship in paris where there is no indication that his ghost/memory stands in the way of louis accepting armand’s advances. he may feel guilt and worry over the consequences of what they did but if anything the fact that lestat was such an awful husband/mentor is what drives louis to be MORE receptive of armand and hopeful for their relationship. it makes him easier prey for armand because he wasn’t given any proper mentorship from lestat so unless you wanna enter into “louis just lied about everything” territory TO ME that’s an aspect of their relationship that should be preserved in order to have any impact (and i don’t see why louis would be lying when he’s very honest about lestat haunting him in the prior segment).
and not only is this louis’s only other substantial romantic relationship outside of lestat but this is also the last part of the entire series in which there’s any substantial writing of louis AT ALL… to dramatically increase the presence of lestat when the rest of the book series is already 99% his story just rubs me the wrong way. like we’re always talking about how this show is possibly going to work around the fact that anne never wrote about louis again after this but not even allowing what little independent story he does have in the books to be told w/o shoehorning lestat is again why this question keeps coming up.
yes lestat was always based on her husband but she wrote iwtv when she had a much more pessimistic view of their marriage and it wasnt necessarily a given that loustat were meant to be together in the long term (she literally tried to get rid of louis a million times in the subsequent books anyways) so this idea that they were always meant to be OTP4ever is just silly. the ending of iwtv works bc neither armand nor lestat could bring any passion back to him. it’s not a romance novel and even in the end, while he feels sad seeing lestat in such a rotten state and when armand leaves, he is too hollowed out to do anything about it and doesn’t stay with either of them. of course the entire series isn’t going to take that view but this season is not the entire series it’s just one part of the book that IMO is incredibly effective as it’s written without the overarching loustat otp narrative in its way.
also that woman tried to find a louis replacement in every single book she wrote and only gave up when her fans hated it and complained enough i guess. but even disregarding all her bad writing, everyone involved in the show has talked about how it was a challenge to account for the massive retcon she did after tvl. these are all choices that were made on what to prioritize and to deal with the fact that the books aren’t consistent about the characterizations or relationships. and they’re going to have to make even more decisions going forward when louis completely ghosts off the page in anne’s writing and all im saying is what im seeing so far makes me wary of those future decisions they’ll have to make s3 and beyond. (not even getting into the fact they’re shoving dm/lesmand/nickistat/etc into this season too like that’s just compounding the same issue)
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