#also @ arsenal can you get some better lighting please I had to try so many times to fix the coloring on this and it still looks abysmal

[leosgreyfringe]

"It's been a great year for me. Everything I could ask for."

LEANDRO TROSSARD for arsenal.com

#his single tuft of hair sticking up. anime dream girl confirmed #leandro trossard #arsenal fc #arsenal #samgifs #also @ arsenal can you get some better lighting please I had to try so many times to fix the coloring on this and it still looks abysmal

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh holy holy heck this chapter is SO DAMN EXCITING hehehe I had sosososo much writing and doing all the research!! please let me know if there is anything factual/cultural that I need to fix! I tried the best I could although I most def am not an expert in Egyptian culture so I appreciate it a lot :) hehe i hope ya have fun reading this chapter teehee oh! also I love hearing what you thought of it too! :D 

Four 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, several mentions of food and alcohol as well as getting tipsy/drunk that good, good making out, suggestive themes

CWs: mentions of guns, mentions of knives, themes of jealousy (expressed by the reader) 

Word count: 7.5k

Parts 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 

“Well, we’re in Cairo alright.” 

Two tugged the amazed young stow-away-student, Seungmin, by the hand of his backpack to keep him from running into one of the palm tree planters decorating the terminal. The young man had nearly slept the whole flight due to the length as well as the exasperation that he had just been through. While his eyes were still darkened from his nap, his glossy pupils still wondered all around him. 

“I take it back. I’m so glad that I almost died so I could end up here with you guys.” 

Jeongin slapped him from the backside of his head. “Never be thankful for almost dying. Life is a lot more fucking fragile than you think. This isn’t just some joyride--” 

“--Ease up F.” You interrupted your partner as you shouldered your bag. The kid had already been through enough already: he didn’t need accosting on top of it all. 

The dashing prince sighed out and stretched his arms. “Ahhhh Cairo. It’s been a while; too long actually.” 

The airport was humid: the kind of sticky warmth that dripped down your neck in a matter of seconds to then get caught above your lip. It wasn’t much help to the anxiety that already had seeped into your veins. The closer you got to a gun the more comfortable you would be. You and the other two guards created a formation around the prince with two in the front and the other in the flank. While each of you were dressed in regular street clothes, your responsibility of his detail still hung over your head with a severe air. 

Chan threw his arm over the young student with an obscene grin. His hair had become a little disheveled from the plane seat and his hoodie, but he didn’t appear to mind. Seeing him so normal was somewhat of an odd change to your previous unbreakable impression of him. 

“Seungmin my friend, you’ve never lived until you’ve been to Cairo. I’ve never seen another place so enriched in history in my whole life...it puts my kingdom to shame. It’s almost like...you can just feel the time here: hundreds of thousands of years...beauty, art, food, industry...I’ve got a thing or two to learn.” 

Seungmin nodded at the prince’s grandiose gestures in the terminal with an enamored smile. “I can’t wait to see it!” 

Your partner put a firm hand on the prince’s back to guide him to the baggage claim. “We won’t be here for long, so, don’t get too excited. We’ve come here for one reason and we shouldn’t dally otherwise.” 

The young boy appeared to frown, and Two bit his lip with a little chuckle. “Way to crush the kids dreams F.” 

“You know the mission, J.” Jeongin gritted his teeth with the words. “Everything is set, there will be a car waiting for us in the garage, and at the hotel we’ll have anything we need.” 

Prince Chan lulled his head back with heels clicking on the flooring. Rogue strands of his hair hung over his sunglasses where he threw a look back at you while pulling them down. 

“Don’t forget our little deal Bee? We’ll have time for a little pleasure.” 

The white haired agent rolled his eyes with gusto then adjusted the royal’s glasses over his face. “We’ve still got to be careful, you Highness. We never know where they could have eyes.” 

“I know where I’ve got mine...” He turned back once more to throw his cockiness in your general direction. 

“Listen to F, your Highness...if you want to live.” 

“Oooo. Feisty as ever, Bee. I love it when you bite back.” Chan turned to his new pet, Seungmin, “She’s really something isn’t she?”

The young man nodded, but not necessarily because he agreed, but it just seemed like it better to agree with a prince than to disagree with him. 

The air appeared to turn even thicker in the summery and arid city and your group approached the parking lot half shaded. Outside of the cement lot, iridescent waves of heat wiggled on the horizon, and further, the astonishing urban sprawl of Cairo, and just over it, the stretch of the Nile and Giza. Palms and other varieties of plants spotted the landscape and above it all, a perfectly crystal blue sky streaked with thin clouds. Had the circumstances been different, you really would have wished to have been there for pleasure. 

“This one. Right here.” Jeongin announced upon spotting the black armored sedan. It wasn’t the most inconspicuous vehicle, but you were prioritizing safety over aesthetics. Your partner touched his index fingerprint to the car door’s invisible panel, and it flashed blue just as the lock had at the safehouse with the ticking clock insignia. 

Two whipped his head around to make one last check of the surroundings before taking off his sunglasses and reddened eye. “Get in. Both of you.” He urged the prince and the student. He popped the drivers side open to find a different pair of glasses in the storage compartment: gold framed aviators. 

“Huh,” He said happily while putting them on. “This is more my style.” He rummaged around a bit more to find a new pair of black framed glasses there too. “Fox! Think fast!” He threw them over to your partner who sighed out with relief. 

“Thank god.” 

The trunk opened with a mechanical sounding creek, and you lifted up the trunk bed to find your whole arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP5′s submachines, Remington 870 shotguns, and Glocks complete with thigh holsters. Among the pile of metal, various knives and other weapons were held in foam holders. 

“They’ve got knives back there?” Two asked while pulling the rearview mirror to see. 

“Oh yeah. What? You more of a knife guy?” You teased while looping your thigh holster over your cargo pants. It fit just right. 

The illusive man popped his gum with a shiny smile. “‘Don’t ever have to reload them...that’s what I’m saying.” 

“Thank you Carroll.” Jeongin sighed upon seeing the thick laptop among the weapons. “Finally I can do some real work. That kid’s damn Chromebook was killing me. I nearly short circuited it trying to connect to our network.” 

“You what?!” Seungmin was suddenly much more interested. 

“Dont worry yourself too much, its still fine.” 

“Are there cameras in here?” You quickly asked your partner. 

“Agency should’ve fried them a long time ago. Why?” 

From the trunk bed you sized up the Glock to feel its weight and how cool it settled into your sweating hand. You unloaded the magazine to see that it had already been filled. 

“Carroll. She really is too kind to us.” You slid the magazine back in then, pulled back the slider to lock it once more, catching Chan’s adoring glance. 

“Something interesting pretty boy?” 

The prince appeared to shiver a little, but brushed it off sighing, “Oh, nothing.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Either it was Carroll or the King, but someone had spared no expense on the young prince. The sun set upon the sparking Nile where you had arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza. 

Anything for His Royal Highness The Prince. 

The towering and gleaming building was a sight to behold in and of itself. It was nestled right into the riverside anchored with several leisurely sailboats bopping in the evening breeze. As day crept into night, the city grew with a swell of lights washing as far as you could see. Extensive bridges and roadways glowed with headlights and every building appeared to be illuminated along with more boats strolling down the river in a rainbow of colors and music. 

The prince craned his head as close to the window as he could and rubbed together his hands excitedly. He looked from you to your partners, finally making a disapproving scoff. 

“Come on. You’re not just a little excited to be here?” 

“We’re here on business, how many times do we have to explain?” Jeongin typed away at his computer from the front seat. 

“Bee?” He looked back to you with a hopeful little glint to his eye. 

“Like Fox said...tomorrow is our appointment with White Rabbit, then we’re on the first flight back home for you.” 

The young prince frowned, but this quickly faded once he had seen the golden brass doors to the magnificent hotel. Seeing the state that the four of you were in, it was a bit comical that you had rolled up to a place such as this. Immediately a valet and bellhop jogged up to the car wearing perfectly pressed uniforms and spotless shined shoes. Little did they know you had no belongings to your name...the rest was waiting in your suite: the royal kind. 

Seungmin cranked his neck to take in the scale of the building in all of it’s regal glory and let out an airy laugh his with his backpack straps snapped tight. 

“Holy shit.” He exclaimed with a giant smile 

Two rose a “no thank you” hand to the valet, and asked him where the garage was in perfect Arabic. The gesture surprised you...as many things did with that man. Jeongin gave a little nod in appreciation to the bellhop and expressed with his own broken version of Arabic that you group had no luggage. The young man was confused, but still gladly took the bills that Jeongin had slipped into his hand for the inconvenience. 

“We’re staying here?” Seungmin wondered while he followed you in. 

“When you travel with The Prince, it comes with some perks.” Chan tore off his glasses with a particularly prideful grin. 

“I feel like I need to pay for just...breathing in here.” 

Indeed, it was a luxurious and grand place. The atrium was patterned with various plush lounge chairs and benches and the path was made of emerald green marble tiles with swirling designs of beige loops. Thick, round columns also supported the ceilings in the lobby, and crystal glass chandeliers sparkled. On several tables, massive floral arrangements had been freshly placed, and you wondered how much the hotel must've paid for them to look that good just to have them replaced the next day. 

A couple formalities were exchanged with the worker at the front desk, and soon the keycards to the royal suite were placed into your hands. Seungmin held his piece of plastic as if it were a gold bar in his hands whereas Chan shoved it right into his front pocket. 

“Everything that we should need should be up in the room.” You told the group who were too distracted to hear what you had just said. 

Just before you had entered the elevator, a tug at your sleeve stopped you in your tracks. Jeongin pulled you back, nodding at Two to go with the others up first. 

“Remember what we talked about before?” He muttered in the hollow and stone corridor. “About the prince?” 

“I need to stay beside him?” 

Your partner nodded with a furrowing brow. “We’re out in the open here, it’s a big city...anyone could be watching us. No distractions, no messing around, no anything. We see White Rabbit and we leave. Hell, I’m even inclined to make sure he doesn’t leave the room...” 

“Jeongin...” You squeezed your partner’s shoulder which felt stringy and tense under your fingertips. “I got it. Trust me. He won’t leave my sight. I promise.” 

“..Okay.” He said with a nervous brush to his hair, then he pressed the elevator button with his knuckle. 

“You...okay?” 

The young man appeared to snap out of a trance. “What? ...Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m keeping it together fine. It’s just...there’s a lot riding on this mission. I don’t...” 

The gold and reflective elevator dinged to the ground floor. 

“We can’t disappoint Carroll with this one. There’s too much riding on it...I can’t disappoint Carroll.”      

You invited your partner into the marbled and mirrored interior of the small space. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━ 

 Even without the help of his royal helpers, Chan managed to clean himself up nice...provided, only the finest clothes had been sent for him to wear. While they weren’t the usual designer labels that he was used to, it was clear that they had been picked out from the finest markets and boutiques in the area. Chan, as he always was, was a prince to the full extent of the word. After a shower and some perfume to his chest, he was the same man that you had been introduced to. 

A loose linen shirt swayed from his frame with little regard for the usage of buttons. He wore slacks that had been pressed made of a kind of fabric that you had never seen before, but looked airy and comfortable. As always, there was a small assortment of shoes for him to choose from as well. He picked brown leather loafers, then tucked up his sleeves to reveal his arms; scratched as they were, but still strong and spiderwebbed with thick veins. 

Arrangements had been made for you to share one of the bedrooms with him--as much as you had fought it at first. Chan was thrilled with the idea, and gladly let you settle into his room with your small assortment of sidepieces and modest set of clothes by regulation of The Agency. While it had mostly been denim button downs and several kinds of functional trousers, they had sent an evening gown. 

The silky white fabric was not unlike the dress that had worn for the gala, but it appeared to be even more sultry once you held it to your frame. The thin spaghetti straps barely held to your shoulders and the back dipped nearly halfway down your back. 

Knowing the man that you had an appointment with, you figured the dress would make it just a little bit easier to talk to him. Along with it, there was a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace that glinted with the same sheen of the sea. 

“You’ll look gorgeous in that.” Chan said while slipping on a wristwatch. “I’m sure that it will suit you perfectly.” 

The wooden bedside nightstand creaked when you put your holster and Glock in with a matching matte black knife. You had to be careful with that one, as it had nearly cut your finger upon inspection earlier.         

“Hm. I think the both of us know that you’d prefer it on these lovely marble floors rather than on me. Correct?” 

The confident prince strode across the room in the dim lighting of a couple lamps with stained glass shades. Outside of the balcony attached to your room, the sheer curtains blew in the night air and distorted the city lights across the river. Further, Cairo Tower surged with a pink light wrapping around the length were the cylinder pierced the sky. 

“Maybe.” He tutted, then crinkled the king-sized bed where he sat. The prince’s disposition was alluring, there was no denying. He tiled his head to inspect you further, jaw clenching with a sharp angle and a testing glare to his brown pupils. The man smiled slightly while rubbing his index and ring finger down the sleeve of your considerably less scratchy blouse. 

“I hope that during our time here Bee, I’ll get to know you a little better. I’m...really looking forward to our drink later. I made reservations for us.” 

“Reservations? When did you do that?” 

“Oh. When you were showering.” He smirked at his sneaky plans unbeknownst to you. 

“If you think that I’m letting you go anywhere else besides this hotel--” 

“--Bee?” The young royal grew quieter, softer, careful even. His hand cascaded from your arm down to your waist where he tentatively went to grab at your hip and squeeze lightly there. 

While your first reaction was to swat him away, your second crept up on you unexpectedly, and swelled with a kind of confused euphoria feeling the pressure of him on your body. You let his hand linger there, thumb pressed into your hipbone. 

“You don’t need that dress to be beautiful.” 

His words snapped you back; sickly sweet, and sticky in your chest. You cast his hand off of you. 

“You’re crossing the line, your Highness. Don’t...don’t touch me again.” 

The royal sighed as he rose, then inspected his face in the sizeable mirror. Each of his cuts and scars had been skillfully covered with makeup the best he could manage.  

“Bee, I’d cross multiple lines for you. I thought you knew?”    

“THIS BED IS FUCKIN’ AMAZING!!” Seungmin called from the opposite of the suite. 

The prince smiled, then followed you to the door. 

“I’ve already got enough on my hands, your Highness. I ask that you not distract me.” 

“Distract you?” 

As soon as you had said it, regret bit at the tips of your ears. You couldn’t meet his teasing glances, but rather slid one of your more discrete sidepieces into your crossbody bag--as if guns as such could be such a thing. 

“I-I...I’ll sleep on the couch.” You then resolved out loud, however the prince chuckled at your sudden break. 

“As you wish Bee.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“I think that this is the best meal that I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!!” 

Seungmin kicked his legs under the table to the embarrassed glances of both Jeongin and Chan. Before you, the prince had ordered a variety of both cold and hot mezzah dishes with a couple main entrees for you to share. While he was the only one to drink, he indulged in the most expensive wine that the hotel had to offer. Granted, everything would be paid for in cash from The Agency, however the Prince swore up and down that anyone could order anything that they wanted and that The Agency would be paid back in full. You and your partners ate modestly, however the young student didn’t hold back. As the boy shoved his face, it appeared to make the prince happy to see him eating so well. 

You were still an odd group, and garnered curious glances from other restaurant guests. While they were only glances in passing, they still didn’t make you feel any better. You had already drawn enough attention to yourself with you being an odd mix of foreigners who each held themselves differently. You could sense that you partner felt it too while he sipped at his seasonal soup with eyes up to scan the room as he did so. 

Chan threw his arm behind your chair to take in the rest of the room: perfectly decorated with jade green chandeliers and perfectly symmetrical wallpaper and furnishings. It was as if he felt somehow content with your strange little group; like he was the ringleader of it all or some king of the round table. For a moment, he paused to watch the way that the boats passed by on the river from the window nearest to him and sighed. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying running for his life in this way. 

Two cleared his throat and unbuttoned his fashionable suit jacket as the waiters came to clear the table for dessert. 

“So. What are the specs for tomorrow?” 

Jeongin fiddled with his glasses, then dabbed away at the corners of his mouth. “He’s invited us to come around 11pm. He wants us to dress up too--as I’m sure you’ve all seen the clothes that have been provided for us. He apparently loves his formalities, but, anything to make him feel more comfortable I suppose. His men will meet us in the front and take us to him, then we try our best not to fuck it up.”

“--Which we won’t.” You soothed your partner. 

Seungmin perked up, “I’m coming too?” 

“How else are we going to look after ya, kid?” Two ruffled up the young man’s hair. 

“W-wait. Didn’t you say that it’s a club? Will they even let me in? I’m not like, 21 yet? I mean, I will be in a couple months--” 

“--Ahhh you’re so cute.” Chan beamed. “If you’re rolling with us that doesn’t matter.” 

Seungmin blushed and played with the condensation of his water glass. “Oh.” 

Your partner shifted in his seat. “Speaking of. Considering that you’re “one of us” now. We need to discuss something important with you. Your identity.” He looked over to you to finish the rest of the speech that had been pushed off for just a bit too long. 

“Your name...is your most valuable asset. It’s the only thing about yourself that you can keep for yourself. No one else should know it besides you...and, well, us. If they know your name, they know your family, they know where you live, where you go to school, even that girl that you had a crush on in the fourth grade. Got it?” 

Seungmin gulped dry with blown out eyes. “I-I think that I understand.” 

“What do you want us to call you from now on?” 

He paused, considering towards the ceiling. ”Well...if you’re B, and he’s F...and he’s J...I could be S? Simple enough right?” 

“S it is then.” 

The waiters arrived with every dessert possible: chocolate cake, Crème Brule, fruit cheesecake garnished with mint, as well as traditional desserts like Om Ali and Mehalabiya--a type of milk pudding dressed with delicate, pink, edible flowers. 

Seungmin--now dubbed S--made happy little eating sounds while he tried a little bit of everything. 

“Thank you.” You finally spoke to the prince, who now smelled strongly of Lotus and Jasmine. 

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my friends.” 

The word hung in the air, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. 

Friends. 

“Where is this reservation that you mentioned?” 

He took a swing from his crystal glass with finesse. “Hm. That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

“Jeongin told me that I need to keep an eye on you, you know that? It would be best if we didn’t leave the hotel at all--” 

“--But what would be the fun in that?” The prince nearly pouted. 

From the others side of the table, Two in his aviators brushed off his lap before standing. “I’m going to get some sleep, if that’s alright with you? I’m feeling pretty jetlagged and I want to be prepared for tomorrow. Excuse me.” 

The slender man bowed to you at the table, then even deeper to the prince. 

“What was that about?” Jeongin muttered while he poked at the thin caramel layer of his French dessert. 

“Actually, I think I want to head to bed too, I’m stuffed.” Seungmin rubbed his belly in his contentment. “Also...I think I might have homework due...heh. I don’t know...I’ve got to figure out all these all these time differences and stuff.” He pushed in his chair then gave the prince a deep bow. “Thank you, your Highness.” 

“My pleasure.” Chan said with a tiny bow back. “Rest up, kid.” 

With the empty holes at the table, the silence was deafening. 

“And then there were three.” Jeongin yawned. “Bee? Wanna do some laps in the morning? I saw that they had a pool? Wanna see if you can beat my record...again?” 

“Psh. I was coming off that biochemical cocktail the last time we tired. You had an advantage.” 

“Then you’ll beat me? Hm! I look forward to that.” Your adorable partner flashed the first smile that you’d seen in a couple days. You missed it, you realized. 

“Sleep tight Bee. Goodnight your Highness.” 

“Thank you Fox.” The prince mirrored his warm smile. 

Knives and forks clinked on china in the dining room, and music softly payed the soundtrack of the evening. A low hum filled the space where the tourists and patrons chatted among themselves. It was peaceful and normal amidst everything that had been pricking your skin and plaguing worry over your mind. The prince merely sighed, sparking eyes reflecting the candles dying out on the table. 

“And now it’s just the two of us.” 

“Seems like it.” 

“Can I whisk you away now?” 

“Whisk? Who said that I would allow any whisking?” 

“Come on...Bee. Just this one time? I promise to be on my best behavior.” 

You laughed out incredulously at the comment. “You out of all people can’t promise something like that.” 

“I guess you’re right about that. But...still, I won’t try to make a scene or anything.” 

The royal placed his napkin on the table with his knife and fork respectfully tilted off the edge of his plate. 

“Follow me?” 

Chan held out his hand. It was pink with heat and scraped a little from the glass that had pierced the fragile flesh. In some way, you had felt a twinge of guilt seeing the small injury knowing that you couldn’t have protected him well enough then. You allowed him to lace your fingers with yours, and felt the rough cuts of his scars in your palm. 

You had promised to yourself that he would never know such pain again. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Annnd...this is it!” 

You had taken all of twenty paces outside of the hotel when Chan gestured with open arms to the riverfront. Just at the riverbank, a steamboat was anchored with open doors for hotel guests to enter. The massive, multideck, white steamboat shone like the moon peaking at the ocean’s horizon. Each of the semi-circle windows were lined with white lights and from the inside, the delightful sound of laugher and live music spilled out to the glossy water of the Nile. 

“W-what is this?” 

“Well…it’s a dinner cruise but I just signed us up for the bar part. Are you...surprised? I thought that it must be pretty safe considering that we’re on the water and no one can drive up and shoot at us.” 

“I mean...it’s a bit closed off, but nothing that I can’t handle.” 

The prince held out his arm for you to lead the way, then took your hand to help you watch your step down the stairs. Chan provided his name to the conductor in elegant sounding Arabic, leaving you shocked. 

“Y-you speak Arabic too?” 

Chan chuckled once more, taking your hand in his to bring you down the creaking wood deck with swinging with lanterns above your heads. 

“As a royal and diplomat, it’s best for me to know how to communicate if I might need to.” 

“I must say your Highness, I am definitely impressed.” 

“What? You thought I was just another pretty face?” The charming prince escorted you to a room within the steamboat that was lined with red velvet carpets and small bar tables with tea candles and water lilies floating in a shallow dish. He pulled out your chair before his own, then settled with hands folded in his lap. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand too, although I could use a refresher; that was so long ago, back when I went to school.” 

“Hand-to-hand? Well! You really are full of surprises.” 

The prince appeared smug and faintly amused by the compliment as he crossed his legs under the table and leaned in with his dizzying floral scent. 

The waitress appeared and Chan flexed his language skills once more while he ordered a Hemmingway Daiquiri for himself and a French 75 for you. Somewhere off in the distance or perhaps a different part of the boat, louder and more excitable music played along with the echoing claps of those who listened along. Here, it was much quieter, and the loud sound was replaced with a jazz song that you had heard before--likely from your more formative years. 

“It’s a beautiful night.” Chan began, “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me. I know that I’ve been a bit forward, but, I appreciate you entertaining me.” 

“If I had said no, what would’ve happened then?” 

“Well, maybe I would’ve dropped it, but...knowing you...I don’t think that I would’ve given up easily.” 

The waitress returned with the drinks on a silver platter: his grapefruit pink and yours the color of a lemon drop. 

The royal rose his glass for you to clink with yours, “To...adventures.” 

“To adventures.” 

With a resounding sound, the glasses met, and you watched the way that the shimmering liquid ripped across the prince’s nose. 

The two of you sat for several moments more, saying nothing, but sipping and soaking in the night breeze and the humidity that made your whole body feel blanketed with a sense of calm. You had felt this way before back at the safe house, and it snuck up on you once more. Simply exisiting with the prince provided you with a sense of solace that had long since faded from your life. The sense of responsibility that you felt for the man was noticeable, but you couldn’t help but notice how he provided for you the same sense of safety that you did for him. 

Perhaps it was the loneliness of the job and the solitude that came along with it. Was that you craved to be touched? Listened to? Admired? You had distanced yourself from irrational things such as love and other feelings of attachment. In your line of work, people died often, and you had to move on just as fast as their lives had been taken from them. You supposed that you had become unfeeling at this point...but this prince, so full of himself and focused on the material...there was something about him that reminded you how to feel. 

“Bee? What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully. 

“Oh...nothing.” 

“You looked kind of lost here.” 

“Was I?” 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. Maybe the drink is just...getting to me.” 

“Just one drink?” Chan giggled a bit, “I didn’t take you for being a lightweight Bee. I thought that they gave you like, drinking lessons or something back at that agency of yours.” 

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have more than one drink anyway.” 

The prince nodded, understanding. “So, what will you tell me about yourself? Is there anything that you’re allowed to tell me? Or...will you always be this mysterious, beautiful, enigma?” 

“Me? Enigmatic? Ha! Hardly.” 

“Well? What then?” The prince sucked at the lime garnishing his glass. “Since I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your real name, I’d love it if you could tell me something.” 

Over the stereo, the muted trumpet played along with the twang of thick upright bass strings,

“I suppose I could tell you how...” Chan leaned in, “I didn’t want to join The Agency. At first.” 

“Oh? Why’s that?” 

“It felt like a bit of a last resort and anything that is a last resort is something that can’t come easy.” 

Chan titled his head as if to say, I’m listening. 

“Life...fucking sucks sometimes. Sometimes...you’re left...living with your sleazy uncle with a letter addressed to you post mortem telling you to carry on the family name if you want to feel some connection to the parents that you never knew.” 

The royal cast his eyes down, “I-I’m so sorry.” 

“The Agency has been everything I’ve known since I was a teenager. This life...it’s everything. I think in a way I feel obligated to it...since it was what took my parents from me...I owe it to them to do a job that they spent so much energy on so that it wasn’t in vain.” 

You stopped, realizing the weight of your words in the air and how they cut like the blade of the knife that you kept tucked in your waistband sheathed in a leather cover. Once the sharp metal was taken from it’s confines, there was nothing to protect those from the damage it could do. 

“Bee...I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine what it must be like to loose your parents and have been thrown into this life...no one deserves that.” 

“Its okay.” You sighed. “I did it to myself. Now, it’s of no concern. I can take care of my own, and I have a new family. I try not to look back.” 

As he had done numerous times before that night, Chan’s hand reached out for yours under the table, brushing up against the white cloth. 

“I can’t say how much I appreciate you enough for what you do; risking your life for me...I owe you everything Bee.” The prince softened, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. 

The chug of the steamboat hissed softly behind you in that back bar room, and just through the windows, you could see the stars dotting the sky just as they did in any corner of the world. They were a reminder that while some things changed, others didn’t. 

The echo of footsteps on the deck clicked, causing you to turn a careful glance back to the direction of the sound. The man who entered was dressed in a casual cotton button up and navy slacks. On the white of his breast, he wore a pin holding the symbol of a crest.

“Lee Minho?” Chan gasped. 

“Your Highness!” The handsome man bowed immediately with a startled little smile. 

The friendly prince stood immediately upon seeing the other royal to shake his hand. “What a coincidence that we meet again!” 

Lee Minho shied with a polite smile while fiddling with his hair that looked to be masterfully styled. “Must be...fated. Or something like that.” 

“Are you alright? Last I saw you was at the shooting at the gala. I’m so glad to see that you’re safe. You didn’t get injured I hope?” 

This close, Lee Minho had oddly cat-like eyes that were as intense as they were alluring. He was just as you had remembered him to be--put together and polished like a true royal, dastardly handsome with all the right curves to his body, and just enough mystery to him to pique the interest of anyone who had sensed his air--just as the prince had. 

“What are you doing in Cairo?” Chan asked, gesturing for the stranger to pull up a chair. 

Lee Minho swatted away the question with an annoyed cringe. “Royal stuff, you know how it goes. Everyone is always trying to poke their noses in places where they shouldn’t be...unless they’re looking to get themselves killed. That's why they send me. I’m dispensable.” 

“Oh, I’d hardly say that.” 

In seconds the prince’s entire body had shifted towards the direction of the other man, and hung onto each of his words as if they were a siren song. 

“When you’re not as high up in the ranks as you are your Highness, royalty starts to feel more like servitude than a legitimate position.” 

“So, where are you poking your nose?” 

Lee Minho’s eyes nervously flicked to you, and Chan realized that he had skipped right over introductions. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce the two of you. Minho, this is Bee, my--” 

“--I’m a member of his detail.” You spoke for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally Lee Minho. I recall seeing you at the gala.” 

Minho bowed slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” 

It was obvious that you had made the man uncomfortable, just as you had liked it to be. While you could see what the prince had seen in him, you had the disposition to be much less trusting than his Highness. 

“Which royals are employing you? I’d love to know! It’s always exciting for me to learn about who is plotting what. The royal drama keeps me really entertained.” 

Minho sat up straighter, then waved a hand for the waitress to come scuttling over. 

“Some of my family members. You wouldn’t know them, we’re all dreadfully insignificant to be honest. They heard all this business about those men with the red crests and they’re starting to get scared. After they targeted...you, they’re wondering which royal family might be next...if any. I’m here to find out who they are, their whereabouts, anything else.” 

“Wow! That’s actually what we--”

“--And where are you planning on getting this information if I may ask?” You hushed the prince’s loose lips as quickly as you could. 

Minho leaned in over the flickering candle to lower his tone, “I heard that there’s an informant here in the city who might now something about this group. They’ve been popping up on national news too as of late. I’m looking to talk to him tomorrow evening. Luckily, I was able to make an appointment but it was no small feat. I had to bribe him to high hell to get him to speak with me.” 

“Hm. Sounds familiar.” You mumbled. 

Chan’s eyes widened, then he looked back to you to ask for permission. You gave him a nod.

“It seems like we’re here for a common purpose my friend.” The prince leaned in to bridge the gap between them, his hand notably reaching to rest on the other man’s thigh below the table’s surface. “We’re seeking similar information and I think we might be speaking of the same informant.” 

“But your Highness, isn’t it dangerous it you to do something like this?” 

“Not when I’ve got her around.” Chan threw a sly grin to you across the table. “I’m well protected. And you? Where’s your detail?” 

“I’m afraid that I’m out here alone. Like I said, when you’re as low in the ranks as I am...” 

“What? That’s terrible!! They aren’t even protecting their own? Bee!!” 

“Yes, your Highness?” You already knew where this was going. 

“Let’s bring Minho along with us tomorrow! We know that there’s safety in numbers--” 

“Your Highness, in case you haven’t noticed, our hands are already a bit full...”

“I can fend for myself.” Lee Minho suddenly piped. “Travelling alone, I’ve picked up a few things about protecting myself. You don’t have to protect me, but, I appreciate the offer.” 

“Nonsense! You should come with us! I would feel more comfortable if you did rather than went by yourself.” 

Lee Minho gave the royal a smile in his thanks, it was pure and a little adorable you had considered...but that was likely the champagne going to your head. 

“Really? I appreciate it, your Highness.” 

While you were distanced, you nearly could’ve sworn that the prince had squeezed the other’s leg reassuringly, and you were willing to bet he had rubbed it with his thumb too just as he had done to you. 

After long, the waitress returned with Lee Minho’s drink, and the two men chatted like old college buddies while you slipped away at your drink in an attempt to make it last as long as you could. While Chan did try to engage you in conversation, it would never last for long until he would become puppy-eyed over the stranger again. In the end, you wondered if the tipsy prince would’ve also confessed to this man if he had one too many drinks. 

The table bumped with their jovial and restless legs, and you could only imagine what wandering hands sought to discover. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The hotel was quiet save for the click of heels on the marble floors from ladies who had just gotten off the steamboat and clung to their husbands in their drunken stupor. They cackled in the empty and golden lobby, then pressed hasty kisses into the stuttering mouths of their husbands who’s mouths then smeared with hot pick lipstick. Chan giggled at the sight while he tripped over his own feet too. 

“Ahhhh. Being in love is so cute.” He adored them once you had entered the elevator. 

“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” 

The prince hiccupped, then shook his head. “Unlike you I know how to hold my liquor. I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy I think. Must be the jet lag.” 

The tones for each floor beeped in the compartment, and Chan lulled his head back and forth. 

“So. Lee Minho huh?” You said, not even able to help yourself. The alcohol had brought you a bit of an edge...so you thought. 

“Lee. Minho.” He sighed out dreamily. “What do you think of him?” 

“I think I can’t trust anyone as long as I haven’t ran at least three background checks on them.” 

“Awww, Bee, you’re so thoughtful of me.” 

In the empty hallway, the prince with squinting eyes leaned against the doorframe to the royal suite, reaching out to brush up against your blouse once more. You let him, excusing his drunken state. After he did so, his eyes hazed over with something much different, while he looked exhausted, it was laced with something else: something much more longing. 

“Bee...fuck, I really want to kiss you again.” 

“Hm. That’s ripe coming from you who was just viciously flirting with Lee Minho.” 

You could see his head spinning in his dilated pupils. “What?” 

The door clicked open and you less than gracefully lead the prince through the dark to your shared bedroom. 

“B-Bee, what are you talking about?” 

You scoffed, “I’m not blind, you know.” 

“A-are you...jealous?” 

“W-what? Fuck no. I’m just...you can’t just...toss people around thinking that they’ll all bend to you.” 

Chan sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at his temples when you turned one of the lamps on. 

“I-I was doing that?” 

You tore a pillow from the bed as well as the throw blanket at the end. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Good evening, your Highness.” 

“Wait! Bee!” The young prince stumbled after you, stubbing his toe against the bedpost in the process. “Ah-FUCK!” He grunted. 

“What?” You growled back to him, half shrouded in the darkness of the suite living room. 

The royal stumbled out, eyes blank and backlit from the bedroom. While you couldn’t see him fully, you later could assume that there was something in him terribly torn and ripped in that moment that made little sense to him, as it did to you to. 

Arms reached out, bodies softly illuminated by the lights of the city, and the prince leaned himself fully into you, pressing bitter tasting lips to yours with a heat and desire that only seemed amplified the breather he had gotten. While he tasted of lime and grapefruits, with a twinge of alcohol. He was just as addictive as any vice. You wanted to feel him. As infuriating as he was, and oblivious, your abhorrence to him was just as strong as your attraction. 

“Mm, Bee--” He moaned directly into your mouth while shuffling both of you back to the bedroom. 

The prince’s trembling breath floated from his mouth to yours where he used both of his large hands to pull your face closer to his. You knew that in some way, there must have been something ingenuine about the whole scenario, but you didn’t care too much, not when kissing him felt like something. Maybe he had kissed you out of pity, or because he really had wanted to kiss you. You broke for seconds before both of your tangled limbs hit the bed. 

“Before...you said that you wouldn’t kiss me.” 

“I didn’t make any promises...but, how come...you said that you wouldn’t hesitate...? But you kissed ba--” 

You silenced the prince’s words with your own heated kisses that made little sense, only that kissing him as such felt good. You straddled the man while his hungry fingers traced all the way down your back. The prince’s hips sunk into the cushiony mattress, and you screwed him down even harder into it with your own heated hips grinding into him with as much pressure as you could muster. 

“This is what you want, right?” You pulled at his lip with your teeth to hear him groan from it. 

“Is it...what you want?” Chan got out between more kisses. 

You could blame it on loneliness or lack of touch all that you wanted, but it wasn’t even close. 

“Wait. Wait.” Chan suddenly interjected. 

“What? What is it?” 

The prince looked up at you, that haze in his eyes now fading to something much different that wasn’t covered in the lust that he held before. 

“Bee...I-I don’t know if I want it to happen this way. It feels...it’s not...” 

“Not what?” 

He brushed his hand upward now to caress your face, lingering on the side of the peach fuzz on your cheek. “You deserve better than whatever the hell this is.” 

“Oh, so when I finally want to fuck you, you’re saying it isn’t right?” 

“I’m saying, I’m drunk, it’s late, clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you, and I want to know what it is before we do anything else. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

It might’ve been Lee fucking Minho, or it might’ve been something else much stickier for you to admit, but seeing the prince like this, it was too much. He was gorgeous under you, practically angelic looking. 

“I-I’m...complicating things.” You whispered out, and the prince softened even further. 

“That’s what it is? Bee, I told that you don’t have to worry about--” 

“--Yes. Yes I do...your Highness. I-I can’t feel...” 

“Bee--let’s just talk about--” 

The prince might’ve said more, but his words faded into murmurs once you closed his door behind you, then crawled onto the couch in Jeongin and Seungmin’s room, locking their door too. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

#skz smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids onehsots #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x female reader smut #kpop drabbles #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #kpop fanfiction #skz angst #stray kids angst #kpop angst

[hintofelation99]

The Justice League Meets the Avengers Pt. 1

In an alternate reality where Steve and Tony mended their relationship and Thanos never came, the Avengers meet for a family game night. Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Stephen Strange, Bruce Banner, and surprisingly enough Loki all gather. The night is going well, everyone is getting along, though there is some tension. Clint and Natasha are still suspicious of Loki, but the tense atmosphere is broken by Peter asking Loki about magic. At first the conversation is nice, lighthearted. Loki's obvious excitement over magic is humanizing, so much so that Clint almost, almost, warms up to the trickster. However, when Peter starts asking about alternate dimensions things start going downhill. The following transcript outlines the events that take place that strange evening.

Peter, looking very excited: So alternate Dimensions are real?

Loki, with a bashful smile: Well of course, assuming that we are the only dimension in this infinite universe is rather close minded.

Peter: Thank you! That's what I said to Flash, we can not be the only reality, that'd be insane!

Tony: I'm not disagree with underoos or peppermint patty, but have we ever seen these dimensions?

Stephen: I've been to several.

Bruce Banner, with a spoon full of ice cream hanging out of his mouth: R'lly?!

Stephen, raises an eyebrow clearly unimpressed: I am the Sorcerer Supreme. Of course I've been to alternate realities.

Thor: Ha! You mortals are so easily impressed, are they not brother?

Loki, with a mischievous smile: They are. Thor and I have also visited several realities.

Clint: I call bullshit.

Wanda: Actually, while I have not been to any alternate dimensions, I can confirm their existence as well.

Sam: Ha, fine, then take us to one.

Loki's smile widens, Stephen looks like he wants to intervene, but Tony speaks up first.

Tony: Yeah, what tweety bird said.

Sam glares at Tony and Bucky chuckles.

Loki looks absolutely delighted, which Natasha and Clint find very concerning: As you wish.

Stephen: NO-

---- The Justice League Watchtower----

A gathering of the Justice League takes place. Batman is in a heated debate with Green Lantern about watchtower security. Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, and Flash watch the debate. Wonder Woman looks amused, the others seem to pity Green Lantern.

Green Lantern: I'm just saying Batman is being way too paranoid! The watchtower is completely secure, there's no way anyone can get in.

A giant green portal opens and out of comes eleven strangers. Some of the strangers look confused, some annoyed, and one looks very smug.

Batman narrows his eyes at Green Lantern as the entire League leaps to their feet.

Green Lantern: Fine. You were right, happy now?

Batman: No.

Tony: WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE LOKI?!?!

Loki just shrugs

Steve: Who are these people?

Wonder Woman: I believe my team mates and myself have the same question.

Clint glances to Natasha and notices that she and Bucky are already in defensive positions. He follows their lead and shortly after all Avengers, except Peter, are in defensive positions.

Peter: Holy crap! Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark! We're in an alternate dimension!!

Tony: Uh, yeah, not the time kid.

Peter looks around, for the first time he realizes that he's the only one not in a fighting stance: Oh, uh sorry!

Batman: Who are you and what do you? Answer in the next five seconds and maybe we will allow you to leave.

Green Lantern: Yeah, what he said.

Batman glares at Green Lantern.

Steve: Maybe we should all just calm down. We meant no harm, this is all a big mistake. I-

Batman: Names. Now.

Peter: Wow Mr. Stark, that guys sorta scary.

Tony: My name is Tony Stark. The kid's name is Peter. Tall, dark, and cranky over their is Bucky. The peacemaker is Steve-

Batman steps forward to interrupt, Superman stops him.

Superman: If you do not mind, I think we were hoping for first and last names.

Tony: Fine, that's Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. Don't worry about the kid's last name.

Flash: Alright, and the others?

Steve: Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Stephen Strange, and Bruce Banner. And those two are Thor and Loki Odinson. And you are?

Superman: We are the Justice League. You may call me Superman. That is Wonder Woman, then Green Lantern, Aquaman, Flash, and the angry looking one is Batman.

Batman glares at Superman.

Batman: Where are you from and what do you want?

Sam: Look man, I get that you don't want us here, but honestly this is all a big accident. We were asking about magic and alternate dimensions and that asshole decided to give us a demonstration. We can leave right now.

Loki makes a few odd hand gestures and mumbles some curses. Superman looks concerned, Batman looks unimpressed, Wonder Woman looks slightly amused.

Thor: Brother, I believe that was your cue to send us back.

Loki: Obviously, I'm not a complete moron. Just, just give me a moment.

Stephen: Did you take us to an alternate dimension with no escape plan?

Loki: ...no

Bruce: What the hell man?! God I knew that should have gone to Valkyrie's party.

Clint: Valkyrie had a party?

Bucky: Not the point Clint.

Batman: I'm contacting our magic users. Green Lantern, escort our guests to the holding cells.

Tony: Holding cells? That seems excessive.

Batman: You can go willingly or we can use force. Your decision.

Superman, glares at Batman: What my team mate is trying to say, is that we don't know if your story is true or not. We have many enemies and can't take any risks.

Green Lantern: Yeah, especially cause the kids are here today.

Batman glares at Green Lantern and takes a step towards him. Superman places a hand on Batman's shoulder to stop him.

Superman: Batman, please do not maim any team mates, you don't want to give Robin any ideas do you? Green Lantern, we will be discussing your conduct.

Peter: Wait, there are other kids here? Can I meet them!

Batman: No.

Seeing Peter's hurt look Batman softens.

Batman: At least, not now. Let us gather more information on the current situation first.

Aquaman: We could expedite this process if we bring in Martian Manhunter.

Wonder Woman: He is currently off world, but I do believe Miss Martian is here. I can have her meet us in holding.

Tony: I'm not letting you put my kid in a cell. Considering you seem to also have mentees I believe you would understand.

Batman: The kid has to wait in a cell too. We must look out for everyone's safety.

Green Lantern: Didn't one of your kids have a box of heads?

Batman looks absolutely murderous, but before he can respond a faint giggling echoes through the room. Everyone except Batman looks very confused.

Batman: Spoiler go back to the the training room right now. And take the others with you.

Spoiler: Dammit.

Robin: You imbecile, you got us caught.

Nightwing: C'mon baby bird be nice!

Red Hood: Shut it dick bag, you're the one who almost sneezed.

Batman: Language Red Hood!

The Avengers chuckle and look at Steve.

Red Hood: Fuck off Bats! Also, Green Night Light, it was a duffle bag. Easier to carry around.

Bruce: Oh my god a duffle bag of heads?

Green Lantern: THAT'S NOT BETTER

Red Hood: I'M SORRY I WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING.

Natasha and Bucky shrug, while everyone else looks horrified.

Natasha: Honestly, that's fair.

Red Hood: Thank you! I told you she'd be the cool one, you owe me five bucks.

Arsenal: Seriously Hood? We have a joint bank account?

Batman: Hood we will be discussing your financial decisions.

Stephen: Not to question your leadership, but are those really the decisions that you should be questioning??

Flash: Yeah... no offense Bats but I got agree with weird robe guy.

Batman: Just take them to the holding cells. I'm contacting our magic users.

#the avengers #justice league #batman #flash #aquaman #superman #wonder woman #green lantern #tony stark #peter parker #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #stephen strange #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #thor #loki #nightwing #red hood #spoiler #robin #arsenal #mypost

[notcorrect-persona5]

akira for the character ask thing please!

Yes!! I’ve been wanting someone to ask me about Ren or Yu. After typing this though I feel like some of my opinions are kinda controversial 😅

Favorite Thing About Them

This is the question that keeps me from posting these quickly. There are too many things I love about these characters. It’s really hard to pick a favorite thing, so I’ll just talk about one of the many things I love.

Even though we know nothing about his life pre-game and he’s a silent protag, Ren’s still a really unique character while also being a normal, teenage boy. He doesn’t need to be weird or have an intriguing backstory to be interesting. He also feels like he could be a real person. And he’s hilarious.

Least Favorite Thing About Them

He’s mean to Mishima for no reason.

I wish he had more of a backstory. I want to know more about him and his life prior to the game. I think Strikers would have been the best opportunity to give us some more insight on his life, and I was really disappointed when that didn’t happen.

The way some of the fandom sexualizes him is disgusting. He’s a child.

Favorite Line

“I’m not the free labor type.”

brOTP

Ryuji!! They’re friendship is so pure 🥺

OTP

Shumako! I wish they had more fan art, they’re such a cute couple.

nOTP

I understand why people ship Shuake. I do not understand how people can say they’re “basically canon.” They’re not. Also, a lot of Shuake content I see portrays Ren as this super fluffy, sensitive, sweet catboy which is weird and so far from who he is. I think he’s portrayed this way to be a contrast to Akechi. I don’t think you should change a character’s personality just to fit your ship better or to create the ship dynamic that you want. Not all content is like this, but I’ve seen a lot of it. Also, also, Ren caring about his friend’s death doesn’t automatically equal romance. Of course, he was sad that Akechi died. They’re friends. Speaking of, Ren’s dream reality wish wasn’t for Akechi to be alive. People who are currently rejecting dream reality don’t get their wishes. We know this because the wishes of everyone else in the party disappeared when they started rejecting it. We also know that Ren’s wish was to stay in Tokyo forever (which you find out if you accept dream reality). Maruki said he brought Akechi back because he thought it was tragic. He never said Ren wished for it. Even if Ren did wish for it, that wouldn’t automatically equal romance. If my friend died, I would want them to be alive too. I know a lot of Shuake shippers are really defensive of their ship, so if you have the urge to argue with me, please don’t. I don’t have the time or energy to talk in-depth about their relationship.

Random Headcanon

Ren has a light country accent. In the stage play, Ryuji makes fun of the way he says a certain word at the ramen shop. In a manga, a stranger calls him “an idiotic country bumpkin.” The only way that stranger could have known Ren was from the country would be his accent.

Ren’s scared of heights. This is actually implied in the game, but not a lot of people know about it. When he goes to Tokyo Tower with Sumire, two of his responses are “You don’t mind heights?” And “B-But if we fall...” When he goes there with Takemi, he says his ears feel weird and his heart is pounding. She then asks if he’s scared of heights. If you choose to train, Morgana will tell Ren to stand on a chair and one of his dialogue options is, “I’m not good with heights.” He looks miserable on the roller coaster in the animation. At Dometown, Ryuji says he’ll protect Ren on the roller coaster and starts teasing him saying “you better not cry on it.” When asked if he would rather go to Hawaii or LA, Ren can say Leblanc. Ann will then ask if Ren is scared of airplanes.

He is not athletic. Like not in the slightest. Ryuji, Sumire, Takemi, and Kawakami all point this out. In the manga, Ren says he was late due to his “poor physical condition.”  Sumire never tells him “good job” after training, she always says “good effort.” In a manga, Yusuke said he wanted to capture suffering then asked Ren to exercise. In Dancing, Ren thinks this while in Makoto’s room, “The weights are labeled 4K...Almost nine pounds. Really!?” While in Akihabara, Ryuji says the exercise machines are really expensive. If the player chooses to say he wants one, Ryuji says even if Ren could afford one, he won’t use it and it’ll just collect dust. Ryuji also tells Ren, “You gotta be more active.” After Takemi says a lot of students have been getting injured due to sports she says, “Well, I guess a kid like you doesn’t have much to worry about that...”

His glasses are real. I know it’s confirmed that his glasses are fake, but I really don’t like that concept. Most people don’t wear glasses, so they won’t help him “blend in.” They’d do the opposite- if they did anything at all. And that “intense gaze” thing doesn’t make much sense either. Have you seen his portraits? His facial expressions hardly change, and he has so much hair you can barely even see his eyes. I also just dislike the “intense gaze” trope in general. I like having a character with glasses who isn’t a nerd, genius, or old. Your eyesight has no impact on your personality, so Ren - who is also the main character btw - needing glasses would be cool.

Since he wears a lot of black and is always with Morgana, he probably has cat hair all over him.

He doesn’t have a big stomach/appetite. He tends to react judgmentally to how much Sumire, Ryuji, and Ann eat. When he was asking around Yongen-Jaya to see if anyone knew Futaba, a man asked if Ren eats a lot, and after you respond the man says “you don’t eat a lot?”

Ren’s a picky eater. Makoto asks Ren if he’s an adventurous eater and his dialogue options are basically no. He says, “yeah, sometimes”, “not really”, and “it depends.” When Jose asks if your tastebuds change as you get older, both of Ren’s responses are no which makes me think he won’t try anything he disliked once, even if it was years ago.

Since he’s from a small town, Ren gets lost a lot. There’s actually a manga where he texts Ann, “I’m lost. Send help.” Ann asks if he’s bad with directions, and he - distressed- says “No...Tokyo just takes a little getting used too...”

Ren’s late pretty often.

Since he’s from a small town, he’s a slower walker than some of the other characters.

He’s terrible with names. He asks for Kamoshida’s name three times, when Kawakami says Niijima wants to speak with you he has the option to ask who that is, the dialogue options for telling Ryuji Mishima’s name, the text bubble never changes from principal and Haru’s fiancé even though the player knows their names, he forgets Arsene’s name in a manga strip, he forgets Eiko’s name, and in Q2 one of his dialogue options is there’s too many names.

Unpopular Opinion

I’ve seen a lot of people complain that Ren didn’t seem to have PTSD after everything that happened in the interrogation room. I’ve also read things like, “There’s no way he doesn’t have PTSD.” That’s not how PTSD works. PTSD doesn’t care what you think “should” or “should not” happen. Traumatic events can trigger PTSD; however, not everyone emerges from trauma with it. Headcanon all you want, but saying it’s wrong that the game didn’t give him PTSD isn’t right.

Song I Associate With Them

Criminal by Brittany Spears

Wildcard by KSHMR

Good Kid from The Lightning Thief the Musical

Make It Up by Sam Tsui (this song also gives me major Percy Jackson vibes)

Still Feel. by Half•Alive

Favorite Picture of Them

I have two!

#asks #not a quote #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #persona 5

[fatiguing-thoughts]

Small Competitions - Emmett Cullen

Having a massive vampire boyfriend was more complicated than anyone would think, not that many consider this as a possibility. It was your life, while it was fun there was always gonna be some struggles. The biggest obstacle you faced in your relationship was that nothing was fair; no game, race, or small competition of any kind was going well in your favor. 

“Listen babe, it’s just a game.” Emmett says smirking in my direction, standing about ten feet from me. 

“You only say that because you always win! I never get to win anything!” I exclaimed, pouting at the sad truth. “You’re a-”

Before I could even finish my sentence, Emmett sped over to my side. He grabbed my waist from behind and whispered into my ear.

“I’m a what, babe?” He says in an alluring tone, taking my breath away for a second, before I remember that he cheats in every game with the whole vampire thing.

“You sir, are a big fat cheater.” I said matter-of-factly. I folded my arms and turned to look him in the eye. 

“Ouch, that’s harsh babe. I can’t believe you think I’m fat!” He says chuckling, once again trying to give me a small kiss. 

It was hard to stay mad at my handsome mate, especially when he always managed to put a smile on my face. Whether it be his humor or his chaotic energy. I just shook my head, letting out a small sigh.

For instance, yesterday he felt the need to race the birds. Yes, we both knew he would beat the birds flying south for the winter. But did he just need to be sure he could? Of course he did. 

He also just absolutely super duper needed to race you yesterday too. The only difference was that  Edward and I were driving Edward’s Aston Martin while he ran next to the car. 

“Well babe, what is the deal for today?” I ask, raising my eyebrow and trying not to giggle too much. 

“I think that we should have another small competition.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows and swinging our holding hands side to side. 

“What’s this small competition?” I question. 

“I thought we could maybe do something you might have a chance at.” He says, mocking me for always losing. 

“Ok, so I get to choose then?” I say, finally excited about a competition. 

He nods, agreeing to my request. 

“Well, I think we should see who is a better artist.” I say, winking at him. I knew he had the artistic coordination of a six year old as opposed to me being in accelerated art programs my entire school life. For once, this is something I can win. I smirked to myself, trying not to giggle with excitement. 

“Honestly, I don’t think that this would be fair. The only competitions that are liable are strength or speed anyway. We could wrestle?” He suggests, not ready to lose to me for the first time since we started dating four years ago.

“Or we could have a makeup competition?” I offer, knowing he would do equally bad in both. 

“Ok let’s do that.” He says, with the false confidence that I know would be the end of him. He totally thinks it’s easier than what it really is. 

We run upstairs into our shared bathroom and I grab my arsenal of makeup. We both get an hour to see who can do a better face of makeup, and yes he was putting it on himself. I loved that Emmett can have fun, no matter what we did. He was truly a beam of light in a life, brighter than the sun itself. 

I watch as he begins with just taking foundation on a dry sponge and rubbing it all over his face, what a rookie, I’ve got this in the bag. I can’t help but think to myself and laugh and what I imagine his finished product would look like. 

“Ow.” 

“Fuck.” 

“What the hell?” 

I hear Emmett mumble to himself at least twice a minute. Music to my ears.

I try to not peek as I do my makeup, making sure I face away from him in an effort to not give any hints on accident.

After the ear-deafening alarm on my phone finally rings, I cannot contain my excitement. 

I turn around, and that’s when I see it.  

Emmett is smiling ear to ear, but I cannot believe my eyes. 

He has mascara in his eyebrows? Red lipstick not only on his lips, unfortunately around his mouth and chin. The blue eyeshadow, oh the blue eyeshadow. The uneven wings of eyeliner that almost touch the end of his eyebrow. Far too much contour, the blush is clown-like, and you could see his highlight from the international space station, for sure. There is glitter everywhere. The foundation was beyond patchy, unblended, and straight up just disturbing. I’m not sure where he learned how to do makeup like this, he’s got to stay off of instagram makeup algorithms, it’s clearly dangerous. 

I laughed, I laughed so hard. I almost peed my pants laughing so hard. 

“Oh (Y/N), you shouldn’t laugh at me.” Emmett says, getting up to pick you up playfully pretending to wrestle you.

This makes you laugh harder as you couldn’t stop looking at the monstrosity that was his makeup. You run downstairs into the living room, Emmett playfully chasing behind you. 

“Uh, Emmett. You look- beautiful?” Esme says confused. 

I guess they came home from their vacation early. The laughter can’t stop erupting from me, losing my breath. 

“Good job son, you look fabulous.” Carlisle teases. 

“Oh my god, I’ve got to get this off. But when I do, I’m coming for you, (Y/N).” Emmett says teasing, before he runs away to the bathroom to go scrub his face. 

I sat waiting on the couch, explaining to Esme and Carlisle exactly what caused Emmett to do this. 

As I laughed with two of the nicest people I’ve ever met, I was quickly picked up by a running Emmett before I could even realize what was coming my way, being playfully thrown onto our bed upstairs. I laughed looking up at my massive laughing boyfriend. Happier than anything to not only have won something for once, but to also be in his arms. 

**********************

Word count: 1060 

So I finally fulfilled the first request submitted to me. Thank you everyone for reading and I hope you all enjoyed. Send more requests please! 

I just want to also quote this request:

“I’d honestly sell my soul for some Emmett content.” 

Well now you don’t have to sell your soul and I hope you enjoyed what I wrote. 

#emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen fanfic #emmett cullen imagine #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #rosalie hale #alice cullen #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #bella cullen

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - Chapter 5

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 4 | Chap 5 How to dad | Chap 6 >

Disclaimer: fluff, sadness, memory loss, some strong language

Word count: 2.098

Author’s note: I had a home spa day and I may or may not have made WAY too many bubbles in the bathtub..which then in turn kind of floated out into our adjoining kitchen and...yea...I’m posting this to procrastinate the clean up of ..THAT. Wish me luck. 😂

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

It was not unusual for Henry to be up this early, and yet Phoebe was slightly surprised to find him in the kitchen, the smell of coffee searing into her nose as she was welcomed with the sight of a kitchen island crowded with paper folders and the family whiteboard scribbled full with an enormous, intricately filled out schedule. 

Henry was still working on it as she quietly stepped over the threshold, her arms crossing before her bathrobe as she watched him bend down, ass sticking out as he leaned in to scribble something in the far right bottom corner.

‘Morning.’ She chimed, making Henry jerk up in surprise, his eyes looking at her like she had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

‘Whatcha doin’?’ She leaned into the kitchen island and looked at the papers that were strewn over the smooth light grey marble.

‘Oh, ehm, just ..trying to find some order in this mess.’ He shrugged and clicked the cap back onto the whiteboard marker, his fingers pushing it on the small whiteboard ledge before he fully turned towards his wife, her dazed eyes still blinking at him with mild confusion.

‘You see I found all these things you keep around. School schedules, doctor’s appointments, swimming classes, soccer, eh..you know. I wanted to have an overview.’ He shrugged, making Phoebe cry out laughing.

‘You did what now?!’

‘Wait, don’t tell me you have a schedule just like this laying around..’

‘No, no. Eh..’ Phoebe looked over at the coffee machine, deciding she’d need a cuppa before she’d dive into Henry’s findings.

‘Want some coffee as well?’

‘No, no, I’m good. Gotta keep fit, so I can get back in the saddle as quickly as possible.’ He jabbed into the air, as if ready to beat an invisible opponent.

‘Silly man.’ Phoebe chuckled, pouring some of the hot brew into a mug with a smiling elephant on it - yes suddenly Henry owned a whole arsenal of silly mugs. Squinting his eyes playfully he studied Phoebe:

‘Silly stupid or silly smart?’ Henry asked, but all Phoebe did was shrug, turning a pair of mischievous eyes at him while she sipped on her coffee.

‘Anyways. I think, if the doctor’s okay with it, I can start squeezing in office visits between Sam’s soccer practise and Piper’s speech therapy and..’

‘Hen..’ Phoebe sighed, walking up to him to brush a hand over his arm, his shirt fitting snugly around his large chest, attracting her gaze for a short moment. ‘..one step at a time okay?’

‘Yes-yes, I know. I..’

And then she chuckled, earning an even more confused look from him. ‘What’s so funny?’ His brow furrowed.

‘Oh..it’s just. I never thought I’d get you to..draft school appointment schedules.’

‘Why’s that?’

Phoebe hesitantly licked her lips, her stormy blues meeting his aquamarine, his face betraying that he truly didn’t understand. ‘You were at work..a lot.’

‘Oh.’

Henry slowly turned around, also looking back at the busy schedule; it was indeed quite impossible to fit all this in with the 14-hour workdays he had always been so accustomed to.

‘..fuck.’ He breathed softly, scolding his old-Henry-self for being such a workaholic idiot.

‘That’s okay. We were a pretty good team.’ Phoebe leaned into the kitchen island, her hand lowering the coffee cup to her hip as she quirked her head to the side to study the schedule he had drawn up.  

‘So which of these did I do with the kids?’ He asked hesitantly.

‘Soccer, on Saturday.’

Henry blinked at the 40-something other items that were listed on the meticulously drawn out grid. ‘Oh my.’

‘Yea..’ Phoebe grinned. ‘There’s a good reason why I quit my job as a nurse.’

‘You were a nurse?’

Phoebe turned her head to answer, but decided not to, her lips instead just twitching up in a half-smirk. ‘For a while. But at least now I know exactly what to do when one of the cubs run a fever.’

‘Did you like being a nurse?’

She shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. ‘Wiping shit of a patient’s ass or my kid? I’ll choose my kid any day of the week.’ She winked at him.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Henry chuckled. ‘And about that; shouldn’t the children move home at some point? Or..you go to them, or..?’ He wished to scratch his head as he did whenever he was unsure, but Phoebe was quick to stop him, her hand catching his wrist before he could move it up higher.

‘Eventually.’ She swallowed harshly and released his wrist. ‘I just don’t know when.’ Her eyes moved back to the board as she continued with slight melancholy. ‘There’s only so much you can plan.’

--

‘Hi Danny.’ Relief flooded Henry’s limbs as the amazonian goddess of a woman stepped into the office he had been left in some fifteen minutes earlier.

It would be just a short visit to the office, the studio having postponed the production of the new Witcher season until things were cleared out; Henry’s doctors were not very eager to give any green lights until Henry himself showed he was able to carry the burdens that came with being a lead actor in such a heavily regarded tv show.

‘Hey there big guy! Lookin’ good!!’

‘Yea,’ Henry smiled happily. ‘Feeling pretty good as well.’

‘Good to hear, good to hear! Oh and sorry if I’m a little slow. Jet lagging pretty hard over here; just got back from LA and had like..the craziest delay. But, here I am! It’s good to see you, Henry.’

‘Likewise.’ Henry cleared his throat as he tried to remember the short script she had sent the day before. A script that he’d have usually learned in between scenes, taking up no more than half an hour. But now he felt a certain nerve crawling up his spine as she plucked out that very same script from her bag.

‘Alright. So. I thought we’d have a little reading first? See how that’s going? I mean, if that’s alright with you, of course.’

‘Eh..yea, sure.’ Henry hesitated as his eye flew over the bag he had brought along, the script in there begging him to be picked up in case he failed to produce the words.

No, he could do this. He had to prove he could…

‘So, starting at the top of the scene. Geralt is sleep deprived and agitated. You know the drill..’ She waved her hand like it was no big deal, only to remember moments later it might be a deal after all, her tongue clicking as she realised her mistake. ‘I mean. IF you know the drill, or don’t know the drill, either way is fine. No question is bad. We have no stupid questions in this room, mkay? I mean, I’m just so glad to see you here! And..-’

‘No, I can do it.’ Henry frowned and tried to focus on the blurry daze that was his memory, the words somehow sticking to the tip of tongue like they were about to spill..but didn’t come. ‘Okay, maybe just eh, keep the script to be sure.’ He quickly grabbed for his bag, unzipping it to retrieve the script, the many marks indicating just how much he had struggled with it the night before; at some point Phoebe had to pull the paper from his stiff fingers, so he’d at least get some sleep.  

Reading the first lines of the paper, he tried to get the voice right, the sentence right, the atmosphere right. Things that usually came like second nature. But now it all just didn’t click, his brain sluggish as he tried to read aloud the words as he tried to give his all - it wasn’t enough.

‘Okay-okay-okay.’ Danny stopped him after a short monologue. ‘Maybe let’s just..read? No crazy stuff?’

Again Henry tried. And this time it went a little better. A little. Not enough. Frustration raged through Henry’s bones as he tried to remain calm, his fists clenching around the paper as his eyes read the words and his mouth spilled them, but it just wasn’t as magical as it had once been.

By the time he said goodbye to Danny he kind of knew what had just happened; he had lost it.

--

‘Hey! How’d it go?’ Phoebe called from the couch, her eyes remaining trained on the laptop perched on her lap, a cup of steaming hot tea next to her on the side table.

Henry grumbled something indiscernible and bid her good night, heavy feet dragging up the stairs way before Phoebe had the chance to ask what happened. Closing her laptop she rushed up after him, knowing full well that he couldn’t be in much of a good mood - her Bear had always been like an open book to her.

She could already see him open Sam’s room to go to sleep in the narrow bed, but she stopped him at that, her hand clutching around his bicep, pulling him back towards the master bed room.

‘Come!’ She exclaimed, tugging at his heavy body which refused to move.

‘I can’t. Not ..now, okay?’ He lowered his head as he leaned his forehead into the door frame. It was more than a little clear that he was heartbroken.

Phoebe frowned, her arms opting to wrap around him instead, fingers accidentally brushing over his cock as she shimmied her hands around him, locking fingers in front of his belly. Did he think she wanted to have sexy time? She could hear his breath choke up. 

‘Not that, silly.’ She whispered, her hot breath fanning over his dark blue shirt.

‘Then what? I can’t even..’ His breath choked again and an ever so quiet sob erupted from his lips. It broke Phoebe’s heart. 

‘Mr. Cavill. You’re too heavy for me to carry, but could you please get to the big bed, so I can cuddle with you? Please?’ Phoebe squeezed her arms a little tighter around his chest, making him sob harder.

‘I just…’ His large paw wiped over the expanse of his cheek, angrily removing a tear that had strayed down to his jaw. ‘Fuck.’ And with that he caved, his head removing from the door frame as he slowly turned in Phoebe’s tight embrace, his head looking down at her pleading eyes. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

It took a good thirty minutes of crying and half muttering what had happened before Henry had calmed a little, Phoebe sitting next to him beneath the sheets, her eyes watching in agony as her Bear totally fell apart, thick tears running down his beautiful cheeks. He was convinced that he could never act again. That this was it. His memory was failing him. He could do simple stuff, but acting? No way, José.

Phoebe scooted a little closer as Henry finally sighed, the last of his tears spent for the moment being. Without question or answer, the both of them curled into a sweet embrace, Henry’s head leaning down onto her chest as she carefully brushed her hands through his curls, finding the scar that now ran evidently over the back of his skull; it was just another piece of Henry she’d learn to love.

Sniffling softly, Henry melted into her touch, his breathing slowly calming to a soft and deep in-and-out.

And then, she sang, her body slightly swaying on a quiet tune.

You’re my Honeybunch,

Sugarplum

Pumpy-umpy-umpkin,

You’re my Sweetie Pie

Henry smiled into the fabric of her night gown, the soft satin like mother’s skin against his glowing cheek. ‘My mom used to sing that.’ He murmured.

You’re my Cuppycake,

Gumdrop

Snoogums-Boogums,

You’re the Apple of my Eye

Henry slightly lifted his head and looked at Phoebe as she gently continued to caress his hair, her lips chanting the sweet little lullaby. Finally she turned her attention to him, warm eyes melting his fragile heart.

‘I know. She actually taught me. With Sam. I mean, he was probably the fussiest baby ever to exist.’

Henry chuckled. ‘And now I am your baby.’

The both of them laughed softly. ‘No, no, no. You’re no baby! Though if you need some smothering with love, I’m glad to offer it.’ She playfully jiggled her momma-licious tits, making Henry swallow quickly.

Any other day of the week he would have jumped at the chance - nothing much had happened yet on that department, but right now, with his body all rosy and exhausted, he could only shake his head no, his cheek moving back to rest on her chest. ‘Another time.’ He sighed, melting back into her loving embrace.

‘Okay then Bear. Sleep well.’ She pressed a kiss on his crown and shimmied a little to get comfortable.

Sometimes, dads also need a little bit of mommy love. 

--

Chap 6 >

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme 

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #fluff #sadness #the accidental family #how to dad

[tangtownie]

You Should See Me In A Crown - Natasha Romanoff x Dark!Reader Insert (AU)

Author’s Note: So, this is my first time trying to write something dark…

Think it might land in the category of soft!dark, but be warned none the less!

Super nervous about posting this, but I actually ended up really liking this one myself, so hopefully others will as well.

Reader is from the Red Room Academy, just as Natasha, only reader never left them. I took some creative liberties when describing the Red Room Academy, so that it fit my idea better, which is also why this story is marked as an AU.

The Russian nickname for Natasha means ‘darling’, ‘pet’ or ‘beloved’.

I incorporated some lyrics from the song, tell me how many you can find? 🧐

Regarding the timeline, I imagine this would take place after Natasha brought down SHIELD and shortly after Bucky joined the Avengers.

Also, shoutout to @a-little-counter-esperanto for being kind enough to beta this for me and offer some moral support! 🥰

Once again, this is marked dark for a reason! There might be topics that are triggering to certain people, so please be responsible about your media consumption.

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of violence and murder, dark!Reader, messed up “family” relations, weird/sexual obsession with a sister figure.

Word count: 2.252

Song Inspiration: You Should See Me In A Crown by Billie Eilish

I was perfectly concealed, blending in with all the mindless idiots making their way down the street. If this hadn’t been New York, and people actually paid attention to what happened around them, they might have noticed the warning sign that was the concealed weapons on my body. Or my too heavy boots beating down against the concrete. Carefully eyeing the tower, I counted the people moving in and out of the building. “Bite my tongue, bide my time.” I mumbled quietly, catching the attention of a passerby. We had in fact been biding our time, monitoring the tower for months, counting the number of armed guards on site at any given time. However, it seemed that these soft Americans had their most precious protectors under lock and key at all times. Biting my tongue, I tried not to scoff. One would assume that the Avengers were more than capable of handling themselves, but apparently their employer did not.

Not that it mattered, the more people in the tower, the more people there were for my sisters to play with. My sisters who were all watching me, waiting for my signal. Finally, we had found our missing piece and none of us were leaving here without her. I had been searching for her for years, using the Academy’s missions to get intel on my long lost sister. In time, Mother had found out and I had been forced to deal with that. Fortunately, it was nothing a little thallium poisoning couldn’t handle for me. One less complication and Mother would never get between us again. No one would. Catching the rays of the sun on the edge of my watch, I slowly rolled my wrist, the light reflecting up on a window in a perfect circle. “Wearing a warning sign.” I didn’t know where my sisters were located, but I knew they had all seen my signal. I moved swiftly through the masses, discarding my disguise along the way, and quickly found myself standing in front of the tower.

The first window shattered, as I opened the door, a flurry of bullets following the first one. Civilians were screaming: scrambling to get away, guards were rushing in from all sides: barking commands rushing through their radios and glass continued flying through the air as my sisters blew the lobby to pieces. A few stray pieces of glass tangled in my hair, light reflecting off of them as I moved gracefully through the chaotic scene, while the bloodcurdling screams piercing the air sounded almost like a symphony. Humming quietly to myself, I pulled my gun from the holster on my hip and aimed carelessly before shooting a guard in the face.

The bullet lodged in his eye and he fell to his knees, screaming. His body spasmed out of his control and with a final gurgling scream, he fell limply to the floor. “I love the way they scream.” I really didn’t need to kill him to swipe his ID, but alas why should my sisters have all the fun? After all, I was the one running this mission. The glass crunched underneath my boots and blood splattered all over me whenever my sisters killed the ones that got too close to me.

Making it to the elevator was easy: the guards and civilians continuously dropping all around me. Once inside of the elevator, I pressed R for residential. Wiping some blood from my cheek, I caught a whiff of gunpowder on my dark glove and I inhaled again, greedily, as pure joy filtered through my system. Raising my head to look at my reflection, I was met with a dazzling vision wrapped in all black. I could see the bumps from my arsenal of knives and guns strapped to my thighs, hips and arms. My hair was tied back tightly, the glass shards framing my head like a crown, and blood smeared across my face. “You are so pretty.”

The elevator dinged as it reached the residential floor. Unlike the others, this was ominously silent. By now the precious protectors would now that I had come looking for them. Or rather her. I had come for her and I would die before leaving without her. “Natalia?” I called out for her teasingly. “I know you’re here, любимый." I was met only with silence. Humming quietly to myself again, I fished a knife out of my holster and jammed it into the keypad of the elevator. The keypad sputtered and sparked before I pulled the knife back out, leaving it hanging down the side of the wall.

Flipping the knife carelessly, I scraped it against the wall, as I started moving down the hallway. “Our sisters are so looking forward to seeing you again, sweet Natalia.” I was almost reunited with her and joy filled my voice as well as my body. A flash of movement caught my eye and I turned just in time to see someone charging at me. A quick sidestep and he flew past me. He was tall, broad and dark. Every inch of him wrapped in black leather. His gaze was burning with fury, when he turned to look at me.

“Soldat,” I cocked my head in recognition, a smirk curling around my lips. “I see you’ve betrayed the cause as well.” The burly soldier snarled at me in response and a bubbling laughter rose from my throat. “Poor little Soldat, still have the manners of a raging beast, I see.” The deranged soldier lunged at me again, and it took all of my power to block his fist. The metallic whirring getting louder and louder the more weight he put into it. Grunting with effort, I could feel his arm slipping through mine and his fist met my face with full force. My entire body was slammed backwards into the wall and it felt as though my brain was vibrating from the hit. For a second everything went dark, but the taunting scoff from Soldat ripped me back to reality instantaneously.

Pushing myself from the wall, I growled back at him. To think that my dear sister had been trapped here with these abominations of nature for so long… But no matter, we were here for her now and we would take her away. I simply needed to put down this caged animal in front of me, and we could be on our way. “Watch me make ‘em bow.” Anger flashed in the eyes of the beast as I spoke and he charged again: his metal hand shooting out and wrapping around my throat. His eyes burning while he tightened his grip until all that could escape me were choked off gasps.

I fumbled for the needle in my pocket. I knew it contained just enough sedative to take down a deranged super soldier and while I had anticipated using it on a certain overeager Captain, this seemed like an appropriate use. When I finally grasped the needle, I plunged it into the side of Soldat’s neck. The drug took effect immediately: the beast’s eyes drooping and his ironclad grip on my throat loosening. As my feet touched the floor again, his hand slipped from my throat and he landed with a loud thump. I wasn’t certain how long it would keep him down, so for good measure I grasped one of my knifes and plunged it into him: his stomach, chest and shoulder before I sliced along the inside of his arm.

Loosing my patience, I started down the hallway again. I had to find her and save her. How could Mother ever have thought that Natalia was safe here? Kicking down every door I met, I eventually found her room. The soft scent of jasmine and lemongrass wafted over me and I couldn’t resist the temptation to go in. “You smell so sweet.” My fingers softly grazed over her walls as I moved inside and let the smell of my dear sister take over my senses. Her room was warm and inviting with throw blankets and pillows everywhere and I knew that I had been right. This—she—was exactly what our sisters needed, a comforting and warm presence.

Natalia’s bedroom was immaculate as always, not a single item out of place. Stopping at her dresser, I needed to feel close to her. I tore open a drawer and pulled out a sweater. The material was much softer and smoother than anything I owned and I burrowed my face in it, so that I could really smell her. A sense of calm washed over me and I let myself fall backwards onto her bed, so that I could be surrounded by her scent. My sweet Natalia, how I had missed her. “I fell for those ocean eyes.”

There was nothing I hadn’t missed about her: her eyes that would sparkle like the stars on a bright and cold night. Her deep, soothing drawl. Her soft and luscious hair that I could almost feel running through my fingers. All of it making up the resilient, courageous and ruthless warrior that I had loved for as long as I could remember. My sweet, dear sister. We would be together again soon and then nothing could tear us apart ever again. A sudden sound snapped me back to attention and I quickly got off the bed, hiding beside the doorframe to her bedroom. The steps were careful and calculated, yet soft. A smiled curved over my lips as I recognized them.

“Natalia, любимый, I’ve been looking for you.” Her steps froze at the sound of my voice. I slowly emerged from my hiding spot with the smile still on my lips. Natalia had never looked quite as beautiful as she did with her gun pointed at me. “Oh, любимый, I’m not here to hurt you.” Natalia’s stance wavered just a little and I was elated to see her giving in to me. “I’m here to help you escape, sweet sister.” Confusion washed over Natalia’s face and I smirked as I was reminded that she had always been one of our more simple-minded sisters.

“Mother fell ill.” I explained it simply to her. My darling, simple sister did not need to know all the gory details of what I’d done to find her. “And some of our weaker sisters were flailing without a strong leader, so… I stepped in.” An emotion I didn’t quite recognize flashed over Natalia’s face and she lowered her gun a little. “But as you know, любимый, I’m not exactly a nurturing person and while I see no use of such foolish sentimentality, some of our sisters have requested that you re-join us.” I watched her closely, as I finished my sentence. “We are going to run that place together. That, and any other place you want, my sweet love.” Anger flashed in Natalia’s eyes and her gun was back in my face instantaneously.

I didn’t let her reaction deter me, though. I loved her and I knew that she loved me too. I gently placed my hand on her cheek and dragged her closer to me. “I cannot do this without you, sister. I cannot live with you… Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you?” I placed my other hand on top of her gun and pushed it down until it was pointed at my chest. “If you won’t let me help you, then you’ll have to kill me, любимый.” Natalia’s eyes widened and jumped back and forth, from my face down to my chest. “Tell me, sweet sister. Which do you imagine is worse? Living without you or dying first?” I gently brought my hand up to her other cheek and pulled her closer to me, until our foreheads were resting on one another.

“любимый, my love, don’t resist me.” I whispered the last words before crashing my lips onto hers. The feel of her soft, full lips against mine was even better than I had dreamt. I gasped ecstatically into her mouth and let my hands slide into her hair. I tightened my grip on her hair, when she tried to pull away. She could breathe when I let her. Until then, I would kiss her as long as I pleased. A tear slid down her cheek and I understood. She had finally accepted that we were supposed to be together and that we would rule alongside each other. “You will be the most perfect Mother, любимый.” I whispered against her lips.

Suddenly, a burning feeling spread through my chest and I could hardly breathe. “любимый, do you feel it, too?” I gasped. “We are finally becoming one.” Each syllable hurt more than the last and I barely registered Natalia’s gun clattering to the floor. Something warm ran down my chest and my legs almost collapsed under me. I clung to Natalia and she fell to the floor with me. She wrapped her arms around me and I was in heaven. “You are so beautiful, sweet Natalia.” Even as my vision blurred and I could feel the pull of a deep, dark sleep, I could not pry my eyes away from her. “Sister, I feel so tired…” My voice was cracking from all the effort it took me to speak, but she was here. My true love, my dear sister. I had finally found her again. “Sleep, sister. Everything will be alright.” My sweet Natalia’s voice was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

Okay, so Tumblr was acting all crazy when I was making this post, so hopefully, it'll work! 😬

Also, as always, would love feedback in any form! Comment, reblog, messages! It doesn't matter. ❤️

#imagine #fan fiction #reader insert #female reader #dark reader #dark imagines #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu fanfiction #natasha fic #potentially triggering #be warned

[lotusfartstwice]

Sorry if I'm too late to request but... 8. Easing anxiety reminded me of Metal and Rock Lee, so maybe you wouldn't mind writing some family moment? 👉👈

[A little 'what if' scenerio. What if Lee talked to his son in ep 70 of Boruto. 🙃👍]

“Oh this? It’s just something that cures anxiety.” Metal held up the necklace.

“Anxiety?” Lee frowned before sighing. “Oh, Metal...perhaps you are not ready.” He turned away, starting to walk back home.

“But why?” Metal called, shocked. He had been ready! He was anxious, yes but he was totally ready to learn how to use the 8 inner gates! 

His father paused, his back still turned to him. “This technique is a double edged sword. I’ve already explained that though it grants power it also comes with a heavy toll on one’s body.” He glanced back at him finally, eyes stern. “I cannot in good conscience teach this technique unless I am certain that you are ready.”

“I am! I am very ready!” Metal insisted, moving to close the distance between him and his father. “I-I just don’t want to mess up! Please, Papa!” 

His father’s eyes softened somewhat. “Oh, Metal.” 

“Please! I can-I can do it! Boruto knows how to use shadow clones like Lord Seventh.” He turned his eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the bitterness bubbling. “Inojin knows both techniques from his parents...all my classmates are learning amazing skills. I want to join them! Please!” 

Lee stared before his eyes began to water. “Son.”

Metal clutched at his necklace as if the trinket would will away all the unpleasant feelings gathered before him. He ignored his father’s teary gaze. It wasn’t at all how he wanted things to go. He had been hyping himself up for weeks for this training. He remembered the excitement from his father deeming him ready. He too would learn a technique unique to his family! He could be just like his friends! All of that swept away because of what? 

Angry tears began to gather in his eyes. 

Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why couldn’t he just be calm and not so nervous all the time? It’s not like it consumed him daily! Nope! Just whenever things mattered it crept up and ruined everything! He hated it! 

“Metal.”

His father never had this problem! Boruto or any of his classmates never felt physically paralyzed by stupid feelings! They performed and could move about with others watching easily! Everything was so damn easy for them! For once! He wanted the same! He wanted it to be easy! He wanted-

“Metal!” he gasped, feeling his father’s hands on his shoulders. “Son, look at me.”

He took shuddering breaths when he met his father’s eyes only to whimper at the sight of tears running down his face. “Papa?”

“Y-your breath was shallow...I thought,” Lee sighed shakily, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What?” Metal took in more air, eventually steadying out his breathing only to hiccup as his body shuddered. Oh great. He wiped at his eyes. “This is...I’m just…”

“I have not been attentive. I have not been a good father. For that I am so sorry, Metal.” Lee’s voice was thick, he swallowed as he continued, “You keep comparing yourself to others and-and are consumed by thoughts you should not be consumed by.” He wiped at his face. “I did not want that for you. I did not want you to inherit my insecurities.”

Insecurities? His Papa? Since when? His father stood tall! He didn’t know anyone more confident than his father! His father was Rock Lee!

“I don’t understand,” he managed to say.

Lee took a deep breath, took out a handkerchief and began wiping his son’s face. “Come, let’s find a place to sit.” 

Once composed the green clad duo found a shaded spot, beneath a tree.

“When I was young I faced many challenges.”

Metal nodded. He knew that much. After all...a ninja without ninjutsu was still uncommon. 

“I held bitter feelings but I thought those helped me. Fueled me.” His father let out a sad laugh. “Do not get me wrong. Spite was a big motivator. I wanted to spite everyone who had made fun or doubted me.”

“And you did Papa! You’re a great ninja!”

“Yes but that was not all overnight.” He ruffled Metal’s hair, hand resting there a moment. “I think if I had not met Gai-sensei or my friends I would not have been able to get as far as I did. I owe them so much.” He sighed. “They were lights in an easily dark path and I fear that instead of being a light in your life I have done the opposite.”

“W-what?”

“It cannot be helped. We compare ourselves to others all the time. I always worried you would resent me because I cannot do ninjutsu-”

“I would never!” Metal interrupted, moving to embrace his father. “Never! You are my hero!” he felt his father shudder in his arms which just encouraged him to hug tighter. “My father is the best.”

“But I could have been better.”

Metal paused, looked up. “Better?”

Lee nodded. “From now on I will be better.”

“But-but I am the one who’s-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Metal Lee.”

Metal’s eyes widened. 

“I will admit: I wish you were more confident but that is not something one can force. I will stop trying to force such a change but I will not allow you to belittle yourself any longer!”

“W-wha-”

“You are not ready to learn the 8 inner gates right now but you will. My son will not be caught unaware. He will have an arsenal that I never had growing up.” Lee returned the hug. “You are going to surpass me, Metal Lee. I promise you.”

“Papa,” Metal squeaked before letting himself cry.

“There there son...together we will be better!” With that said Lee also fell into sobs.

Metal was still disappointed he didn’t get to learn his father’s technique. His father insisted there were more things to learn. Like other types of taijutsu he had never thought to learn the forms to. They agreed that he would play to his strengths and try out different jutsu from people willing to teach him. He mentioned that Auntie Tenten had a plethora of weapons she’d be all too happy to train him in. It wasn’t the 8 inner gates but it was still a leg up from his friends who all seemed to rely on less than a handful of techniques. 

“You will become a jack of all trades! Just you wait!”

Metal smiled.

One day he would match his father’s confidence in him. 

One day.

#farty fic #metal lee #rock lee

[serene-victory-77]

The Rodent Whisperer Of Ketterdam

This is my piece for the Grishaverse Mini Bang of 2021, thank you to @grishaversebigbang for hosting this event! @offrostandflames 

My wonderful Materialki/Artists amazing and lovely pieces:

Frisslimbim’s Art and Instagram and Offrostandflames’ Art and Instagram

Summary: Kaz Brekker is known throughout the Barrel for his various schemes and skills. But there's one particular talent no one in his life is privy to, and it's going to help him get 30 million kruge. Crack Fic, Short And Sweet!

Fic:

Kaz walked away from the meeting with Jan Van Eck, his mind racing.

He’d accepted the deal, accepted 30 million kruge for breaking into the Ice Court and stealing a scientist with a drug that could change the world.

But Kaz wasn’t an idiot. It was too risky for humans, and only his best people could maybe do it. He didn’t like his chances.

There was no way he was gonna risk human error.

He hesitated. There was another option, but did he really want to instead use them?

Kaz thought about it for a long while as he made his way to the Slat. They were brave, they were many, and their relationship ran deep.

If he was being honest, they probably were his best, despite Jesper and Inej’s skill.

And humans…. Humans wouldn’t ever be able to succeed, he figured.

He knew what he had to do. He knew who he could trust.

Kaz closed the door behind him as Inej left the room. He looked around.

“Calling a meeting,” he said, tapping his cane thrice on the floor.

There was a rustle within the walls, the pitter patter of dozens upon dozens of feet. They came out of the walls, climbed through a cracked open window, found their place among the rafters and on top of his desk.

They were Kaz’s army, grown since he was nine and now an unknown force in his arsenal.

The Great Order Of Mice and The Virtuous Rat Society.

They named themselves.

He waited a little bit longer for them to all get settled.

“Thank you for your fast arrival,” he said, grabbing some cheese and crackers, as well as some bowls of water, setting them on a platter on the floor. “I have a big job for you all,”

The rodents chittered between themselves before looking up at him curiously.

He hesitated. “It involves leaving Ketterdam for a colder climate. It’s very dangerous. You might need the entire colony,”

The rodents stopped nibbling to stare at him. One of the bigger rats squeaked in confusion.

“Yes, I know, that’s a lot of you, and you guys aren’t used to being outside Ketterdam. But the reward is 30 million kruge ,”

The entire assembly went silent before wild squeaking ensued.

Kaz held up a hand. “Quiet, please, don’t alarm the Dregs,”

They calmed down again but all stood on their hind legs, nibbling their food while staring at him with wide eyes.

“I will tell you what it entails, and we can decide your reward if you agree. We’ll need to do some extra training to handle the colder weather, but that will wait a bit,”

They nodded, and Kaz settled down to explain what he could.

The briefing lasted two hours, and then the next night he had to go and break Helvar out of prison for more details to give to the army. They seemed to be in general good spirits about the entire thing, despite Kaz’s warning of danger and ice.

When he came back with all of the information he had gathered, including several small copied versions of the maps and diagrams Wylan had drawn, the real training began.

“No, the keys are going to be more complex than anything you see in the Barrel,” Kaz shook his head and laid out several old complicated door knobs and keyholes. “Show me how you’d open this,”

The rat squeaked determinedly and set to work.

“Even if you’re stealing from them, you can’t go around being sloppy,” Kaz frowned, straightening the bowties of a group of mice. The mice wore black ribbons, the rats gray, and The Council Of Rodents red. “I do not dress sloppy, and you shall not either. You are representing all Ketterdam rodents with this mission,”

They nodded seriously and let him adjust their ribbons.

“Make sure to take baths!” Kaz called after them once they were done. “You do not spread viral infections to other countries, alright!?”

Affirmative squeaks.

“It’s going to be cold, but your feet are grabby so we can’t cover them. You’re already used to Ketterdam cold, but this is different entirely,” Kaz warned them. “I tried finding some ice for you to practice on, and I’ve got...” he put several boxes atop his desk, “You guys some coats. There should be enough for all of you and are in different sizes, everyone in single file,”

The Council Of Rodents was following Kaz around town as they decided what treats he would be buying them with his share of the money.

He watched with hidden pride as the mice distracted the bakery shopkeeper and a group came from the left flank to pry open display cases and steal bread.

“They’ve come so far,” he whispered to one of the older rats that was standing on a ledge near Kaz’s head. It nodded in agreement.

A customer tried to bat away one of the rats with her purse, and a group of them jumped on her face in revenge.

“So far,” he nodded, pleased.

At the end of the week, in the hours before the sun had even risen over the sea’s horizon, Kaz stood at Fifth Harbor.

“Is everyone here?” he asked, looking over the crowd of rodents.

Two tardy mice ran from behind a shop and squeaked in apology.

“Alright, then. That ship over there is manned by someone who works for me. He has been instructed to leave you all alone and not bring a cat on board the ship. I’ve set aside barrels of cider, water, seeds, fruits, cheese, and crackers for you in the hold of the ship, so do not steal from the humans,”

One of the rats snickered and Kaz sighed. “Yes, I know I usually tell you to steal from the humans, but work with me here,”

They nodded.

“Does everyone have their maps?”

The rodents rummaged through their tiny leather pouches and waved their small maps at him.

“Weapons?”

Needles flew up into the air.

“No one is missing their coat?”

No negative squeak.

Kaz nodded. “Well, then, everyone. The ship departs in forty minutes. The journey will take a few weeks, and you’ll have to wait a while once you arrive. Do you remember what day you have to go to the Ice Court?”

Chitters confirmed they did.

Kaz took a deep breath. “Then, off to the boat with you. I trust I’ll be seeing you in two month’s time. No mourners,”

They squeaked back their best rendition of “No funerals,”, taking their individual time to pat his shoe in affirmance, and scrambled towards the boat.

Kaz stood and watched the boat until it departed.

As an extra safety measure, he ended up sending some guard crows to travel with the ship. Just being careful.

The great part about not sending humans to do your job is that people have a lot harder time figuring out which boat you’re going on, so Kaz had fun getting rid of the Black Tips that had failed to do any damage, as his army was already far out at sea.

Kaz had been training the rodents for a long time. He’d long since taken in stride that for some reason, not only could they understand him, but they could actually communicate back, and they were his secret weapon in everyday life. If things were too risky or complicated for Inej, he sent them to find out people’s secrets and bring back the information he used to control people like Geels.

He didn’t typically do big jobs with them though, they were too valuable to put in danger like that, but they were the only ones he could trust to really get the job done.

Still, despite his confidence in their abilities, he worried.

The next few weeks there were only about a couple dozen rodents from both the Order and Society, the ones that were either too young or too elderly to handle the trip, but they could still do work around Ketterdam, and news of what Jan Van Eck planned to do infuriated Kaz.

He wasn’t gonna not give his army their rewards, so while he waited for them to come back, he went about ruining lives.

Kaz found himself spending a lot of time with Wylan, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, and Inej the following weeks, one part because they were working on tearing down Wylan’s father, and one part because he had nothing else to do. The mouse and rats that were still there had taken to also watching Kaz’s companions.

He found a red fabric scrap and handed it to one of the mice, and later on, they came up to him, showing off the now rather dress-like piece.

“Who are you supposed to be, Nina?” he asked.

Affirmative squeak.

Kaz rolled his eyes and the mouse flicked their tail at him in contempt.

“Actually, you kind of have it down,” he noted, and the mouse sniffed haughtily before clambering away.

“Where’d you get that?” Kaz asked a rat playing with some gambling chips. “Better not be from the Crow Club,”

The rat showed him the Dime Lion insignia on the chips.

“Oh, you can always steal from them. But why the gambling chips?”

The rat twirled and did a little motion with its hands.

“Jesper? Really?”

He found a large, rather grumpy rat watching the Nina Mouse one day. He didn’t even have to wonder who that one was taking inspiration from, and instead handed Matthias Rat a piece of ice.

A small mouse had taken to stealing matches and trying to light small fires.

“You are not a demo expert,” Kaz told the mouse. “I don’t care how many hours you’ve spent watching the Merchling,”

The mouse squeaked sadly and Kaz frowned.

“Fine, you can mess with the matches, but have Jesper Rat watch over you,”

Wylan Mouse seemed to sigh but went with Jesper Rat anyway.

One of the smallest mice had taken to riding on Kaz’s shoulder whenever Kaz was walking the streets at night. At first, he’d wondered why, knowing he didn’t need to be watched over, but then he found that that mouse had been collecting needles, sharp metal bits, and even a small human-sized knife, and Inej Mouse was established.

A little longer than two months later, he stood on Fifth Harbor once more, the Five of Rodents waiting alongside him. A crow had arrived two days ago, with a note from the rodents that they were on their way, but complications had occurred.

He worried about numbers lost, or maybe that some of them had been imprisoned, but that wasn’t the result.

They came from the ship's hold like an ocean, carrying a small boy through pure willpower.

Kaz raised his eyebrows. “Welcome home, everyone. That doesn’t look like an old scientist to me,”

A group of them came forward, clambering over each other to explain what had happened.

“One at a time,” Kaz scolded, looking them over. It seemed that their numbers were almost intact. Clearly, some had been lost, but all in all, the casualties were minimal. He was relieved.

They explained what had happened, and Kaz sighed. Well, the old man was dead, but at least they had the son.

“Kuwei, was it?” he told the Shu boy. “Don’t speak to anyone about them,”

The boy just nodded nervously, looking more confused than anyone Kaz had ever seen.

A mouse piped up and Kaz turned incredulously. “You did what to Pekka Rollins?”

There was a gleeful chitter and Kaz smirked. “This is why I trust you guys,”

One of them asked about the reward.

“Yeah, I know,” Kaz told them. “Things got a little bit messy with Jan Van Eck, but now he’s in jail, and you guys have your own house fully stocked with food,”

A triumphant orchestra of squeaks filled the early Ketterdam morning, and Kaz grinned as the army ran onto the streets of the Barrel, pitter-pattering away.

--

#grishaverse big bang #grishaverse mini bang #GVMB2021 #Kaz Brekker #Six of Crows #Crack fic #mice #rats #rodents #heists #it's cute I promise #Fic with art #Six of Crows art #six of crows fic #kaz brekker fic #my crows

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hello babes!!! OMG, today has been a long week! A wonderful, dream big come true week! HARRY IS SOLO ON THE COVER OF VOGUE! Also, I have a new installment of Tryst for you all based on this 👆photo! Without further ado, I give you...

Scotland!

It's the pose that does it.

She's been so,  mon dieu she hates the moral judgment of the word. But it remains the right one here, in any language. Soo good, since she decided he couldn't give her what she needed, or maybe wasn't ready to, or didn't see her like that. Nothing more than a flying fuck when he got itchy on the road and she was available to scratch.

But here she was, with his encompassing form around her back and his arm causally slung across her collarbone and she could barely keep her lip from between her teeth to smile.

Smile for the camera, Helene. He'd whispered in her ear and she was thankful for their blustery setting the clothing covering her chill bumps.

All day, She'd been trying to keep dry and get some candid shots to go into the vault. Sometimes she wondered why they paid her to take so many images, most of them, a greater preportion than usual, just lived in her computer or Jeff's computer never to be used.

Would they ever release them? To the utter delight and meltdowns of this man's rabid fans.

She gets it, Helene does. What they see in him, she sees it herself often. And she sees more, his dick has made her soul smile on more than one occasion. It didn't start with these libidinous thoughts, it wasn't one of those moments where he was a living lighthouse or hedonism personified. It's the first scene with the imaginary fish and he's having a bit or trouble. He's also cold and wet. Which are two sensations he doesn't love, but seems to include in every damn piece of art he makes. He's throwing the little bean bag onto the rock and it's not meant to be gentle exactly, but he seems irritated, not concerned as you would be for a suicidal fish when you yourself are suicidal. His character at least. Thank god. But his physical discomfort is intruding on his ability to act right now; he's barely holding on. He loses his balance while frustrated and falls into the water, cursing.

Helene will not laugh.

She hides her giggles while they change him. He got his Gucci denim outfit uncomfortably wet. Why would you chose that outfit to go to a watery death? She is overthinking. As always.

He's ready to go again, fresh Gucci down to his drawers, and by the 10th take, he's in the swing.

When Harry nails it, He gives the director and Helene the biggest grin and she's charmed. The lights have turned on and the fog has lifted. He shines.

He is finished with this set up and Helene has just put her gear away. Harry brushes past her to get around a rock and presses an affectionate kiss to the easily accessible top of her head.

"Thanks for coming, Tiny. Know it's cold."

Helene smiles at him, and somebody else with a camera, someone not her, clicks their picture.

It's always weird when she is the subject. She's pretty sure she has more photos with Harry, selfies at least than with any boyfriend she has had, in her life, which flashes before her eyes, with a highlight reel of her beneath Harry, while he turns her around towards the camera.

The arm that was across her scapula, turns her like a top and her stomach flutters with the motion. His motion. His arm has come across her clavicle, like it did in LA, and she comes together like the place in between those bones, a shallow place where her heartbeat is thumping visibly.

She's thrumming.

Not that there is a damn thing she can do about it. He can do about it. Anybody can, they have so much work to do.

The quiver in her chest and bones and betwixt her legs stays with her all day. Through lunch with all the people she's missed on their break, around the lunch Harry's had cooked for them, with all the little flourishes he likes. All the different food needs accommodated, hospitality on show. It's a wonderful midday after a bitter morning, the sun's even peaked through. The whole group brims with happinesss. Helene and her table included, she laughs and kisses Molly's cheek, she's so cute.

She stays away from Harry though, through at least theee set ups, one not involving him where she could see his intention to hover and smell her pent scent. So, she puts distance, physically between them all day, especially when they move on to the shoot at the docks.

She's taking far away shots. It was easier to control the pulse at her center when he was in the loose jumpsuit. Now in the tight sweater vest, where he looks like some movie star from a bygone era, she's struggling.

It's sending her. Fly her to the moon.

So she keeps her distance and captures him from afar. She'd been doing so well.

Still is! She reminds herself.

The day is long because of her longing, but Helene makes it through.

"You coming to the pub." She jumps a bit at his breath near her ear, her hair is stirred by its breeze. She's surprised, she can usually feel his approach 10 paces off.

"No, need my bed." She begs off. She's begging he doesn't press, with those puppy dog eyes and dimples he knows how to wield.

"Really?" He pouts. "Need your company." He insists.

Oh, he's reached for the big ammunition, he's used everything in his arsenal, he's even touching her arm. He turns her again and she knows she going to say yes before he bites his lip and says, "please."

"Qui." She exhales. She'd like to qualify the sigh as resigned, but it's full of breath and melodic.

"Yes!" He presses a kiss to her forehead and squeezes her before he wanders off to gather troops.

So much for distance.

The pub is lovely, if their wine selection a bit limited. She can see why Harry picked this for his fictional island. He has excellent taste and this is so picturesque and any number of stories, real and imagined, could be contained in its Walls.

He tastes excellent.

He's across the room holding court. He's a little drunk, and he's just thrown his head back and she can remember the shape of his Adam's Apple on her tongue, and the taste. God the taste of his skin, especially after a show. Her lips would be raw from the salt afterwards, and dual thirsts would greet her in the morning light. Water with something more mineral from his skin.

Helene gulps her wine and tries to tune back in to the English around her. The mix of accents and the still difficult language is enough for her to have to get her mind out of the gutter intentionally to follow along.

Not the gutter, Harry's room.

She's squinting and translating something someone has said in her head and wondering how many times somebody has refilled her glass when another intoxicant fills her senses.

Harry's hand is on top of her head and then sliding down the back of her hair. It's exactly like he does when his dick is in her mouth. But he's usually not grinning like that.

"Tiny!" He's  so jovial when drunk. "This seat taken?"

There is no seat. It's the end of the booth, there is a small amount of brown leather, and Harry wedges himself onto it and picks up her legs, uncrosses them and lays them over his own to make space. He's solved his own problem and worsened hers.

She quirks a brow at him and he just kisses it like it's totally normal she's basically on his lap among all their colleagues. Only in this group he's made close as family would this not look risqué. Only with him. She's thinks only Sarah and Mitch know about them. Know that the 'know' each other. And they aren't on this shoot.

Nobody is looking at them funny, so she had better stop staring at him.

She tears her eyes away, like the wrapper of a condom, and goes back to translating.

It's useless when he starts running his nails along her thighs. She puts her hand on his to stop him, but he just grips her thigh instead.

It is not a step in the right direction. It's only leads one direction for her thoughts. To the way his huge hands look on her tiny body. The way his palm can cover her whole stomach and his fingers reach her honey pot still. She has photographic evidence. Between that thought and the wine, she needs to leave.

"Where are you going?" He looks very sweet, except the glint in his eye. She narrows hers at him.

"My room."

"Already?" He pouts.

"Qui."

"I can't really leave yet."

"I didn't ask you to."

He tilts his chin. "Maybe not out loud." He whispers just under her breath.

She exhales.

"Will you wait up for me?" He looks up through his lashes.

She can't even answer but her head moves up and down like a teabag into hot water in the morning.

She's boiling.

He grins. And leans up to kiss her cheek. "What room?" He murmurs. She knows he could find out if he wanted, but it would also alert the front desk, which might make it to the media, or worse, a fan with Twitter.

"24" she whispers through the veil of her hair. Pulls away from his tractor beam eyes and smiles at the table. Gives a few hugs and a big wave.

The inn is small, quaint. She's on the second floor, which is the top floor, waiting. Helene's kept her clothes on. The same outfit she has had on all day. Jeans, loose, and a t shirt, her dad trainers. Should she change? She tries to remember what Harry had on at the pub. He had changed a fair few times throughout the day.

She think he was wearing a hoodie, his name emobossed on the breast in some language or another, Gaelic?, and loose light jeans. Dirty vans adorning his feet.

She hopes she ends the night in his jumper, or wakes up and slipes it over her shoulders.

The hours slip away and her eyes have kettlebells attached to them. She's just about to take care of single girl tasks, washing her face and putting on the extra lock when the knock comes.

"I was about to go to bed without you." She leans against the door jamb. She's not purposely jutting her hip.  She's not!

"Ahh," he teases, touches the smudges below her droopy eyes and pulls her blonde hair. "You tired."

"Qui, it's been a long day." She breathes.

"What?" He laughs and pushes her into the room with his hips, "your call time was hours after mine!" He flashes his big green eyes.

"Maybe, but I don't have your stamina." She counters. Harry the athlete raises a brow at her statement.

"I've never had a problem with your endurance."

He let's that lie there, and she can tell both of their mind's are roving over memories of late nights turned into early morning mapping flesh.

"No, I suppose you are right." She goes easy when he pulls her forward and his mouth slides against her like a skeleton key into a waiting lock. She expects the kiss to escalate, but maybe they are both a little tired, exhausted from a long day, while longing for an extended night. His kiss remains deep, full of tingling tongue touches, but doesn't get faster, her back doesn't hit the wall, and there are no stops where she is pressed against or onto furniture.

He has some embedded geography of hotel rooms, because he navigates the suite like the globetrotter he is. They are both fully dressed, and the squeezes and rubs over the fabric are exciting, reminiscent of juvenile contained eagerness. When her knees hit the back of the mattress, Helene decides the adults need to take over and hikes the tucked in button down up and over his head, forgoing the buttons.

The black ink on his golden skin is a trail familiar to her fingers tips and she follows it down, down to the leaves framing his joyful path. She can feel the pressure of his erection on the slide mechanism of his trousers and against the strained teeth tethered together on his zipper. If it wasnt metal, it would unzip itself against the force. She sighs when she pulls him out. His dick makes her so proud every time. She can't imagine what it's like to carry it around.

No wonder he is so self confident, the word cocksure occurs to her and she giggles.

"Are you laughing at me?" He looks down and she's charmed, for all his assuredness, he's still vulnerable. It's why he is so endearing.

"Non," she's got him naked and guides him back to the head aboard. He looks more tired than her suddenly, he had a bigger day, job. She'll keep up the inversion of the evening, she can recall no other time together where she had clothes on while he was naked. "I was just think how much I appreciate your dick."

"And it made you laugh?" Oh he's still a little offended.

Helene will have to make it up to him. She ruts against his lap and takes stock.

He's half mast. Which is a rare state for him, in her experience. She nuzzles into his lap and laps from his base to tip. She can feel the plumping under her tongue and decides that's not quite adequate.

She can fit him all the way like this. It won't last, so she takes advantage and mentally pats herself on the back as she seems to expand her capacity as he swells. Once she can't muzzle her nose into his patch of hair anymore she pulls off with a gasp and looks up to his panting face.

"I wasn't laughing at you," she nods towards his bobbing shafts. "In my head, I thought how I'm proud of your dick, and decided it was the wrong word. But the right feeling." Helene put him back in her mouth with her tongue extended out, and stroked him from her throat to the squirming tip.

He's chuckling now and she smiles with her eyes at him. "You're proud of my dick?" His dimples are the size of salad plates.

"Qui, aren't you?" She flashes her brows while She straddles his lap. She's not sure she's satisfied her mouth hunger for him, but they have all night.

"Well...." He blushes, which makes her giggle. She's fully naked on his bare dick and he's blushing.

"Know you are." She whispers in his ear. "You have every reason to be."

"Mmmhmmm." He could be responding to her statement or her rocking over his lap. If one of them tilted just so....

"You've been cocky!" She emphasizes that by moving her hips to an almost position. "Enough before."

He looks just a touch frustrated.

"Should I show you how proud I am?" She slips the tip in, just the tip. Not quite to the popping point. It's a tantalizing suspension, just rocking while his eyelashes flutter. "Show you why you deserve to be cocky?"

"Mmmmm," he hums, vision now between their legs, mesmerized. "Please." He breathes and looks at her.

"Do we need a condom?" She's not sure how active he's been.

"Not for me." He grabs her hips and tries to push her down, as tantalizing as the pop of a champagne bottle, the moment of jubilant anticipation.

"Better safe than sorry!" she dismounts and grabs a skin. He breathes a breath like he is frustrated.

"Oh, Cherie, ne t'inquiète pas!" She teases and strokes firmly, guiding his foreskin over the sensitive tip. "We're only beginning." He helps her roll it down and lifts her thighs to press against the headboard on either side of him. She's glad it's padded. Harry's done waiting, or being gentle and shy. She can't even acknowledge the pop of their joining she loves, she's too busy catching up to the rough thrust of his pelvis up and into her own. "Merde!"

"Mmmmhmmmm." He hums and catches her lips with his own, a net to butterflies. It's soft, slow and sensual, in opposition to the bruising hold he has on her hips. He can handle her with one of his big hands. The other has found its place on her sensitive nipples. This escalated so fast she thinks the ending will follow the beginning with no middle to enjoy. She was hoping to fuck him slow.

Her hands slide down the headboard, it's coarse beneath her hands in comparison to the hair that fills her hands in the next moment. She pulls his neck back a little roughly. "Wait."

"For?" He keeps working her over his dick and it's compelling, and she loves it, but he's showing her why her makes her proud, and that wasn't tonight's lesson.

"I want to come."

"Good, that's what I want to." He hits her spot unerringly. And she's nearly convinced.

"No, non, on your tongue." She has to forcibly take herself off him. She lifts her knees and places her hands on his shoulders to hoist herself up. It's a favorable arrangement, her legs as long as his torso. "Allez." She suggests and his answer is a smile and the extension of his tongue right up her slit.

Helene has to grab the headboard to stay upright. She knew she was on the way. But how close she was to her journey is even clearer when his hands draw her ass cheeks apart and he's spreading her wetness over both holes while manipulating her clit with his tongue.

When he fits his mouth over her hood, creates suction and licks while fitting two fingers inside her separated by just inches of skin accessing both holes, she clenches without prologue. "Fuck." She rides his face until her orgasm has ridden out its welcome and he pulls his fragrant hand out to aid its twin in holding her steady until she's clutching the headboard and coming against his tongue again. Her wriggling at the over sensitivity only aiding his quest for number two.

She slides down his body slow and she's done, until she remembers her intention when his dripping shaft, wet with her and leaking a few drops for himself, prods her ass. She was gonna run this show, swing her hips like a pendulum so he'd enter a trance like state while inside her, the suspended animation of ecstasy. Helene needed to come so she would be calm enough to do it. To hypnotize him, slow and sweet.

She just needs to control the tempo, bang out a rhythmic unhurried beat on his hips.

It only takes a minor shift in alignment to throw them off their orbit. Send his mercury into retrograde with her pussy. She slides over the tip with ease, she's wet enough that she doesn't even have to work him in like normal. Though it still prickles her nerves with that familiar addictive burn she's only had with him and a few others. Those that pushed her boundaries. She's a globetrotter when she fucks Harry though. Her exhale would be loud if his groan wasn't louder.

"Fuck, Helene!" He looks down again and she decides now that she has given him dinner, he needs a show. Time to mesmerize him.She flexes her pelvis, rounding back and holds the headboard hard to find her beat. It's a slow jam, all the flavor of a samba. She's got a circle like a Ferris wheel and he's stuttering her name like he's afraid of heights but loving the ride.

"Again." Helene demands, her head against his forehead.

"What?" Harry's staring at her motion hard, distracted. Helene stops, she wants his attention, his eyes, his mouth, his dick, every inch of him focused on her, including those inside her. She rides the circle to the top, just his tip inside, and hovers. No other passengers are getting on, she just wants him to admire the view. She clenches and knows he can see it when he shivers.

Helene uses her nose to nudge his gaze up. He looks up, down, up, again. She pulls out enough to nearly unseat him and his fingers dig into her hips. "What?"  He repeats.

"My ñame." She looks him in the eye and presses her panting mouth to his while she slides all the way down, his pubic hair against her swollen clit. "Say my name."

He breathes it out, like a prayer, "Helene!" While she takes them to the top again. "Helene!" He shouts in exhalations when she slams down to his pelvis harder. "Helene!" She swings back up slow, and drops like they've found themselves on a rollercoaster.

By now her name is a chant, "Helene, Helene, helene, fuck Helene!" He's squeezing and staring and licking her lips sloppily and she can tell he doesn't know if he should stop her, try to help her along so they can get off together, or just cum.

He looks desperate to finish.

So she stops, and he looks frantic. "Baby, please!"

Helene shrugs, kisses him and grinds herself against him inside on her spot and outside on begging pleasure zone until she's almost there. She squeezes him rhythmically to keep him ready.

She's almost there. They can hop off this ride together now. So she starts the ascent to the top again, slow circles until he's panting and chanting again, and then it's a free fall ride for them both.

Helene loses her stomach and screams his name in harmony with his chorus of hers.

Their sweaty foreheads rest together, until he is chuckling.

"Quoi?" She catches her breath enough to ask.

"I was just thinking, I definitely won't need a photo to remember this one!"

She feels proud, but she knows there is an image he's forgetting, one that will remind her of this Scottish adventure forever.

Months later, they've found themselves together, like together together, when she comes across it. She posts it, with a longing thank you.

When Harry gets home from set, he's smiling like a Cheshire Cat. "You trying to tell me something?" He shoves his phone at her with the open Instagram.

Helene shrugs. She's feeling proud, even prouder than she felt a year ago.

And she wants to show him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tryst #Scotland #Harry styles smut

[evolutionsvoid]

I have to say, the more I think about Slimes, the more excited and confused I get. For a natural historian, they sure are fascinating creatures! There is just nothing else like them! However, they bring me a whole lot of headaches because how do you categorize these things!? How do you understand or even define them? The main issue I have is a bit similar to the problem I run into when figuring out how to categorize the different dryads and the ever-growing arrangement of hybrids. The wide array of crossbreeding and how each "species" can make other "species" is quite mind boggling in the dryad world. In the land of Slimes, it is even crazier! I am sure some may recall other entries I have had on Slimes, like the Flayers, Leg Eaters and Stone Chimneys. These Slimes have chosen particular lifestyles in certain environments, and this creates quite a distinct creature. Even the entry I will shortly get into here follows the same path. The thing is, though, is that these adaptations and abilities are not locked to one group! A Flayer has adjusted its pseudobody to create an adhesive composition, while a Leg Eater has influenced its own slime to produce acidic substances. Despite this, any other normal Slime could easily walk up to one of these "species" and copy their abilities! One simple transfer, and they could learn the ways to slowly change their composition to match. So all of these different groups are just Slimes who have decided to follow a certain path, one that they could just abruptly change at any moment, or even combine! What do we do when a Fire Flayer is created? Or spike-shooting Leg Eaters start to take form? It's a mess! Sure, we could just call them all Slimes and be done with it, but where is the organization? The understanding? That doesn't sound like a conclusion, it sounds like a surrender! I refuse to take the easy route! I do not just drop these things the moment they get tough! That is when I get motivated, because if we don't figure this out, then who will?! Oh right, I am supposed to be writing about Fire Slimes. Whoops! I am sure just saying the name "Fire Slime" already makes things quite obvious to most folk. They are Slimes that can produce fire. That description is a bit reductive, but if you needed to explain it to a common member of the public, it works. In truth, the Fire Slimes do not just conjure fire out of nowhere. The flame comes from the flammable fluid that their pseudobody creates from its food and waste. This liquid can be secreted on the outside of their bodies to coat themselves, or it can be stored in bubbles that are formed inside their pseudobody. Often, they do both, storing a whole lot of it on the inside, then sweating out the excess as a defensive measure. Despite their ability to secrete this flammable substance, they can't actually ignite it. The Slime does not have the means to naturally create the spark or heat that would be required to light it all aflame. This isn't too much of problem for them, as there are plenty of other sources in this vast world that can provide them with this spark. The easiest and most abundant are rocks like flint that can be struck with metals to create a shower of fiery sparks. The Fire Slimes will collect their first fire starters in their early stages of life, and continue to amass an entire collection during the following years. This is to ensure they always have a fire starter on hand even if a foe destroys one of them during a fight, and it is also for decoration. All Slimes love a bit of fashion, and these fellows enjoy coating themselves with rocks and steel. With a fire starter in their possession, a Fire Slime is now capable of igniting their fluids. Just one spark, and it all lights up in an instant! These flames don't last too long, as it burns through their fuel quite quickly. However, these Slimes have found many ways to utilize this weaponry to the best of their abilities. With stores of the liquid inside them, they can use internal pressure to shoot it out from their bodies, either in a tight stream or a wide spray. A quick clacking of their flints will ignite the torrent and turn it into a blast of fire! This is why people tend to think that Fire Slimes can breath fire from their "heads" or shoot it from their "arms," as it looks the part! Alternatively, the Fire Slime can gather its internal stores of liquid and seal it in a thin layer of slime. Pushing this bubble to the exterior of their bodies, they will coat the outside of it in fluid and set it on fire. In one quick motion, they will launch this burning gob at a foe, looking to stick it to their hides. The gooey coating will get stuck on armor or skin, but its loss of contact with the Slime's heart will cause it to fall apart. This means that the store of flammable fluid will begin to leak out, coming in contact with the fiery outside and igniting all at once. Essentially, it all goes "boom," and that is really bad when that stuff is adhered to your face. So, in short, they can fire off explosive gobs of flaming slime, quite the weapon! While intimidating, these weapons aren't the most commonly used ones. The most frequent use of all this is focused on the liquid that coats their whole pseudobodies. A thin layer of this fluid is present on them at all times, and a simple strike of their stony scales will set it all ablaze. When agitated, a Fire Slime will rattle its fire starters as a warning. If the foe ignores this, they will activate every pair of stone and steel on their bodies. A spray of sparks will ensue, and the outer coating of fluid will burst into a huge aura of flame. This sudden burst of fire is quite terrifying, but not super deadly. It lasts for only a few moments, and it will only singe those that are in close quarters. However, this display is often enough to scare away foes and leave them with a few smoking hairs. It is mainly used as an intimidation tactic, though it does have another use. External parasites are a plague for Slimes, and what better way to be rid of them than to burn them off?

 Fire Slimes can use this arsenal for defense, but they also find it handy for hunting. Explosive blobs are good for blowing apart larger prey,  and streams of flame can flush food from their burrows and dens. Seeing a Fire Slime torch a gnu is both fascinating and horrifying, and I am not sure if I am ever going to forget that. I am sure there are many who hear about this behavior and liken it to dragons and their fiery breath. In fact, there are quite a few folk out there that say that Fire Slimes picked up this ability by mimicking dragons. I mean, c'mon! Flammable liquid expelled from the "mouth" that is then lit by sparks! That's just like a dragon! While I won't deny the similarities, I believe this is not the source of their inspiration. I am not alone in this thinking, as a whole bunch of other researchers have looked into the spread of the Fire Slimes and the environments their ranges cover. Yes, Fire Slimes can appear in volcanic areas, but they are primarily found in arid places. Within this ranges, researchers have noted quite a few alkaline lakes in their territory, a habitat that Fire Slimes are quite fond of. Another piece to the puzzle is found on their pseudobodies, as Fire Slimes tend to form very familiar structures with their collected ores. Some would say it is an "avian" look! Speaking of birds, what are the most famous birds to inhabit these alkaline lakes? Phoenixes! Yes, indeed, we believe that Fire Slimes owe their origins to their blazing beauties of the burning lakes! I dare say it is obvious! Phoenixes use their metallic beaks to create sparks that ignite their own flammable powder, which would be the perfect inspiration for a curious Slime! They would mimic this behavior and even copy their appearance to better grasp the concept. A sparking beak and feathers can be seen in the way Fire Slimes carry themselves and their collections, unknowingly honoring the source of their epiphany! You can even look at the ranges of Phoenixes and Fire Slimes and see that the two tend to overlap quite a lot! It's incredible! It makes you wonder what Slimes will come up with next! What creature will they find inspiration from and birth an entirely new category of Slimes! Unfortunately, not everyone shares my excitement of these prospects, seeing as the Fire Slimes are already a bit of a problem. People already aren't a fan of Slimes, now imagine their joy when they see one that can spray fire. Though it varies with each individual Slime and their knowledge, there are indeed enough wilder Fire Slimes out there that don't grasp the concept of "please don't burn me and my property." It doesn't help that most of their problems are solved with fire, so the second they are accosted by an angry landowner they tend to start spraying. Or if they see a tasty goat that isn't theirs (which doesn't bother them, as concept of property is a bit of a shaky subject with Slimes) they will happily treat themselves to a cook-out without a hesitation. They don't really think about those who aren't resistant to burning, as the simpler Slimes tend to divide all living creatures into two groups: "Those That Burn" and "Those That Don't." To them, things that can be set on fire are Food, while things that cannot are Not Food. On one hand, it creates the obvious conclusion of "Hey! That farmer is on fire! I guess I can eat them!" However, it can also create the idea of "this person says they aren't food, so I guess they don't burn!" It is not as terrifying as the first example, but let me tell you it can cause its own set of problems. For example, a fellow Fire Slime may get annoyed by insects trying to feed on its pseudobody and decide to unleash its fire aura to fry the nibbling gnats. They do this without hesitation because they aren't worried about the fire, and since the inquisitive plant person accompanying them said they weren't food, they shouldn't mind either! I minded. Quite a lot.     Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Going from something fresh and new to something that is really old and has been sitting in my posting folder for practically years. Nothing too crazy or flashy, but I had to post them sooner or later!

#slime #slimes #monster #creature #fire slime #art #drawing

[alexandrablake]

a happy ending

Prompt: 47. “I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine.” “Then stop looking.” from this prompt list! Pairing: None, this is a gen fic Show: Criminal Minds Word Count: 1,699 Warnings: Slight allusion to suicide. Mentions of death. A/n: I’ve never written anything like this, so please, if you are going to comment on any of these things, do it on this one. Also, see my reply because I explain a few things about this because I figured it would be little confusing and the explanation would be long.

How many victims have we seen? How many crime scenes? Hundreds? Thousand?

It was both a blessing and a curse to have an eidetic memory. Yes, he could recall even the most minute detail from any of his experiences which proved to only benefit him in this line of work, but he could not forget either. Thus, Gideon’s parting words to him echoed through his mind, chanting and imprinting in every nook.

There was no escape.

Just as they always do, he and his team caught the “bad guy.” It did not really matter, though. Gideon was already dead. He never had a chance. 

Just as they always do, he and his team were cleaning away the evidence of a case solved. They took down the newspaper clippings, the photos, the maps, the triangulations- they took down it all. It was almost as if the heinous crimes they had seen had never happened.

Just as they always do, he and his team piled into government-issued SUVs leaving the crime scene for one final time. In most cases, they would never return. For most of them, they would forget about it in due time. Not him, though. He could never forget. 

The problem was that this was not just some case. There was no way there could be “just as they always do”s.

So, as he climbed into the SUV- license plate 90VFA4- he looked around at his colleagues, his friends, his family. He had worked with some of them upwards of ten years; he could say with much confidence that he could read them well. 

None of them cared. They were treating this like it was just another routine case. That was their mentor, their colleague, their friend, their family, that they had just solved the case for. It was not just a random person. It was… Gideon. And they didn’t care. 

JJ was staring back at him when he pulled himself from his thoughts. Her brows were ever so slightly furrowed, and she examined him with the look of a concerned mother. 

“Are you okay?”

Her words were light and sweet like syrup on pancakes. They coated not just a question but a gentle offer for a conversation where he could relinquish his thoughts to her.

“I’m fine.” His words were brisk, harsh, and cold like wind on a November night. They were rejection in its finest form. Two words that held so much more meaning than seemingly possible.

Her eyes bore holes into him, and it felt like she could peer into his mind. “You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking.”

She seemed taken aback by his statement, shoulders tightening and eyebrows raising. But, she got the message loud and clear: Back off. JJ turned back around so she was facing away from him and towards the windshield. 

He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

In this line of work, I was afraid I would lose the ability to trust, but I’ve realized I can’t really look at anyone without seeing their death. And as bad as losing your faith in humanity seems, losing your faith in happy endings is much worse. 

His eyes flitted open, and he had to raise a hand to shield them from the sudden brightness that greeted him. The contrast dimmed as his eyes adjusted, and he found himself not sitting in the SUV as expected, but rather a dingy diner booth. The seat in front of him was empty, but there was a basket of fries and a glass of water. It was as if he was expecting someone. 

He knew it was a dream. He researched them when his mother first started to show signs of sickness. Maybe there was some sort of link when it came to dreams and the reality distortion that she was experiencing. It was a desperate attempt, even he knew that, but he found comfort in the words that surrounded him in the endeavor. 

The doorbell clanged, and he moved his attention to the front of the diner. A figure approached his booth, but that would be all he could describe about it. It was almost as if JJ had changed the office television to the wrong channel and the screen was filled with a black-and-white static. He squeezed his eyes shut once, twice, three times, before the figure came into focus. 

Gideon was sitting down across from him, that same omniscient smile that so often spread across his face gracing it now. 

“Hello, Spencer.”

His mouth fell open. Even if it was just a dream, having his late mentor speak to him as if he was still living was something that was hard for even him to compute. 

He mustered every word in his vocabulary to greet the still smiling man across from him. “Hi.”

That aforementioned grin grew into more of a smirk. “You look like hell. I’m sure this is a trying time for you.” The initial shock was beginning to wear off and anger began to bubble within him. “You could say that.” Gideon raised a knowing brow, cocking his head to the side a little. “Got something to say?”

Biggest trap for a profiler to fall into is pride. Forgetting that, for all your skills, profiling is just a tool.

“A few somethings.” Reminiscent of all those times when they would just sit after a case, Gideon leaned back into the booth and looked at him expectantly. He would never verbally invite his protege to speak but would always have an air about him that just invited the confidence to do so.

Speak he did. “Why would you chase after Mallick, fully knowing that you no longer had the arsenal of tools you did the first time you attempted to do so? Why did you leave? Well, I know why you left. You did leave that letter explaining but I know that is not actually why you left. Why-” The older man held out his hands in front of him. “Slow down, I can hardly understand you when you go on these tangents.” The smile never left his face.

“I chased after him because I knew I would never be able to live with myself knowing that I had just let the one lead that emerged in thirty years just…” he splayed his fingers in the air before clutching them into a tight fist, “slip through my fingers.”

He nodded. After Maeve, he had thought over every possible way that he could have talked Diane down. He knew that there was no chance, if he could do it all over again, that he would let the obvious clues of her identity pass by him again. 

Gideon was still talking. “I figured I could do basic reconnaissance and get the information I needed about the new developments. I didn’t think that this Tara would be the same Tara Barnett from nearly forty years ago.” He paused for a moment and time seemed to freeze around the pair. 

“So you decided to lure him out because you knew he was active again?” he asked, trying to push the explanation along.

Gideon didn’t respond immediately but stared at him before speaking up with a smile, “I like your hair like that. Much better than the old greasier stuff you used to have to try and seem older.”

He reached up and touched his hair gently, wallowing in the old profiler’s praise. 

“Yes, I tried to lure him out,” the former agent said, rather noncommittally. “It worked better than expected. But that’s not what you’re really worried about.”

He didn’t ask if it was. He knew. 

“No. No, it is not.”

There was a heavy sigh from across the booth. “I left because I needed to. I had to or you wouldn’t have found a letter in an empty cabin, but rather a gun with its bullets used.”

The images of what would have been flashed through his mind rapidly and he took a sharp breath to will them away.

“I told the truth in that letter. I had nothing. I didn’t have the belief in the job I used to have, and I didn’t have the belief in myself that I needed.”

A pregnant pause filled the diner after Gideon fell silent again. He cleared his throat. “Did- did you find it?”

“Find what?” “In your letter, you said, ‘I guess I’m just looking for it again. For the belief I had back in college.  The belief I had when I first met Sarah and it all seemed so right. The belief in happy endings.’ Did you find it?”

Once again, he was examined by Gideon. “It’s not a tangible thing, belief in yourself. It’s more of a construct, if you will.”

“That is not really an answer.”

Gideon slid out of the booth and stood over him. He glanced at the clock hanging over the doorway and sighed. “It’s time to go. You need to wake-up, you’ll be getting back soon. And I… well, I have people to see.”

He stood up so they were face to face. Even in this dream, he was taller and had to peer down at the smiling man.

“Look, Reid. I know me leaving was hard on you. It was hard on me, too. But, I really think it was necessary for both of us.”

He answered in a small voice, and he felt like that twenty-two year old kid all over again, “Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

Those as his final words, Gideon stepped away and towards the exit. The doorbell clanged as he swung the door open. Before he stepped through, he paused, his knuckles whitening on the doorknob. He looked back, a glassy look in his eyes. “Would you tell Stephen I’m sorry?”

He received a light nod, and that smile came back. Then, Gideon was gone.

Spencer had that same smile gracing his lips as he woke up.

Is death ever worth it? Was the world always this gray? Is it only in the movies that it’s black and white? Was that just an illusion?

#eva's 25 days of christmas #advent calendar of fics (ACoF) #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #jason gideon #nelson's sparrow #uhhhhh idk guys #hey hey queue queue #eva writes occasionally

[arandompostarchive]

SALEM - Ch. 13

SAVED WORK

Summary: In all the centuries of your existence, you had never been dragged out of hiding by another god, put in a superhero team and forced to save the universe. But it seems your luck has run out.

_____________

1 Day Left

Tony sipped on his second drink of the day. Or fourth? He couldn’t really remember, but he supposed that was the point.

You had been gone for just over a week.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the clock on your letter to stop. Loki had spent a day or two in the medical wing, which he protested for a while. Until he eventually passed out. He had healed quicker than normal, which was to be expected, but he was still fairly unconscious. Dr. Cho explained that he was essentially mortally wounded, although Asgardian’s unnatural ability to heal was certainly helping. Bruce wanted to find out exactly what he had been stabbed with, so with a bit of sampling, Banner was somewhere in his lab, researching weapons. Tony was sure he’d be the one to build whatever weapon the team needed, but for now, he had nothing better to do.

He thought over what Loki had said. Dead. He wanted to ask him. More accurately, yell at him. Ask him what the hell happened there. Why you were dead and he wasn’t. Tony set his drink down. He should at least try to be sober to read your letter, whatever it was. He sat around for a while, looking over tracking ideas he had, small sketches of how to find where you went.

After a few cups of water, he was feeling a bit soberer. He didn’t get to be Tony Stark by getting plastered off two drinks. Then, he heard a soft voice.

“Boss, whatever energy Y/n’s letter has been emitting has stopped.” Tony’s head shot up and he walked out of the room, abandoning whatever it was he was looking at to head down to his lab. When he arrived, Peter was sitting in front of the letter, sleeping on a stool.

Tony smiled. He would’ve dragged the boy back to bed. Made him get some sleep. But if Peter was anything like him, he’d find a way done. Besides, Friday could probably be convinced to join Peter’s side. So, he softly shook the boy awake, informing him of what had happened. Without hesitation, Peter opened up the glass and metal box, taking out your letter and handing it to Tony. It felt a bit lighter like someone had taken a few rocks out of the package. He ripped open the letter, it was a simple postcard-like piece of paper with your messy handwriting scrawled on it. Tony looked it over, the letter slightly swaying on the page. Instead, Peter said something.

“What does it say?” His voice was soft, as if talking to an animal he didn’t want to run away.

“I need a drink.” Tony said. He didn’t wait to hear Peter’s response before walking out of the room.

***

Loki woke up to a light in his face. “Who had the idea to make these rooms a blinding white?” He wondered under his breath. He pushed himself up and sat back on his pillow. He immediately brought his hand to his side. The pain was mostly gone, a small soft sting and a few bandages were all that was left. There was no one else in the room, not that he expected there to be.

He started to shift himself off the bed before he paused. You were dead, weren’t you?

And he’s here. Alone. He went over his memories of right before he left and he felt a rush of strange emotion. There was a strong tightness in his chest. Like his heart was beating so hard it couldn’t keep up. He knew if he tried to say anything he’d stutter. It wasn’t love. He knew love. And while he wasn’t one to hide how much he wanted to hole you again, this felt different. The more he thought it over, the more he realized he had read a book on this once. It was a short book, mostly of odd psychological occurrences, something he was interested in for a small time. It was called ‘survivors guilt’. Usually, it was in a group of people instead of just one. It never quite clicked for him before. When he first read the definition, he wondered why people didn’t just try to move on with their life. Find other people. Other friends. But right now, the thought of replacing you made him nauseous. He tried to remember what the rest of the page said about how people got past it. That day, he wasn’t paying much attention, but he remembered how it said that people keep doing what they used to do. Try to keep life normal, consistency is important when it comes to grief. It gives you time and space to adjust to your life.

He wasn’t sure what ‘normal’ was. Before he saw you again, he was preparing to spend a good amount of time locked in another cell, this time on Midgard. Then he heard the click of your heels on stone. He wasn’t sure where he’d go now. Now that you weren’t there to argue for him, would he go back? Did leaving with you make him seem more guilty? But there was one thought that stuck. One that wouldn’t leave no matter how many others popped up around it. What’s next?

You were dead, and now they knew almost nothing about Moros, Tartarus, the home of quite a few gods who are now likely quite unhappy from whatever worlds they were on was destroyed, and most of the Avengers still considered him a serious threat. Not that he wouldn’t argue against the fact that he could likely win in a fight against a few of them, he wasn’t about to bring up how quickly the bird-themed one would lose if they fought. He remembered there were two bird-themed ones now, but he could probably take either one of them, so it didn’t matter all that much. But none of the heroes would find that as entertaining as he did. Many would only dislike him more.

He thought about staying in bed, at least so the Avengers wouldn’t be upset when he was missing, but he also thought about getting out. Taking a walk and stretching. Finding out what day it was. How long had he been out? How long was he sleeping? Hours? Days? It felt like weeks. Like everything had changed around him, but none of the items in the room seemed above the Midgardian standards. Nothing to say what day it was and what day he left on. He groaned, sliding himself back into bed and shutting his eyes.

***

It burned.

It all burned.

Like your flesh was being torn away from you. Like everything you loved was disintegrating.

It burned more than you could’ve imagined.

Over it, you heard her soft voice. “Circe?”

You pushed aside the burning. Pushed aside the feeling that every atom of you was on fire.

“Yes?” You whispered. You could hear the pant in her voice. You know she felt it too. The fire spread across your dress and the scent of wood in the village. Shouts and screams were heard in the background with the occasional “Kill them!”

“It hurts. It hurts so badly and I’m scared,” She paused, “Can you say it one more time? Please?” She asked.

You didn’t need to ask. “We’re going to be okay.

You could hear another sob over the shouts. You could feel her hair move against your neck. The smoke clogged your throat, filling each breath with pain. You could hear her choking behind you. A sick part of you was thankful. Burning to death was such an awful way to go. Maybe suffocating would hurt less.

“I’ll miss you. In our own corner of hell, we’ll be out of Salem, won’t we? We’ll go anywhere. See anything. Wouldn’t you like that?” She said.

You nodded and she continued. “I’ll miss you. I wish we could leave Salem. Leave and never come back. Such an awful town with such a pretty name.”

That was all you heard before you felt it. Tranquility. The idea you could live forever. And with the reluctant help of your siblings, you soon learn that you were one of them. You had burned your mortal half, like Hercules. So, you took the role of a war, magic, and darkness goddess.

It always hurt that she burned and not you. It was painful to think you had to live. But you remembered that feeling. That fire under your skin. The feeling of your skin melting away to nothing, leaving only a trace of what you were.

And right now, that’s all you felt.

After bringing a part of hell down on top of your head, Moros left, probably to save himself. You chased him through the dark halls of your mother’s house. You got a few blows in. Not that you could see any of the damage you were causing, but you could feel a liquid stick to the bottom of your shoes, assuring you he was at least slightly injured. Right before he vanished. You looked around and eventually, you looked up. Through the ceiling of the house, you could see a small sliver of black. Granted, it was hard to make it out while you were surrounded by darkness, but the small dots of light made it clear those were the stars. Small constellations you had no hope of recognizing (Even if you knew all of Earth’s constellations). That’s how he got out.

You felt your feet lift off the ground, centering your magic on flight. You made the hole bigger, and once you made it large enough to fit through, you brought yourself through the hole only to be disappointed. You saw something in the distance, but that was more than likely to be Moros. It looked more like you were on a desert planet, surrounded by sand and rock, only some of the rock had fallen into the chasm below.

Shit. You whispered under your breath. You thought through your arsenal of magic, any spells you could think of, anything that could help you. You remembered spells your mother had taught you, things you had learned from other gods over the years. But you couldn’t remember anything helpful. Well, anything powerful enough to be helpful. You felt the rock below you loosen and you dove forward as it fell in Tartarus below you. You could feel everything below you shake before you decided it was best to keep moving. So, you walked forward carefully, making sure not to slam your foot down anywhere.

What if you teleported?

It was a small question resting at the very back of your mind. That power belonged to an infinity stone, granted over time, magic users had gotten better at party trick teleportation. It was more like clearing a pathway through everything for yourself than actual Tessaract level teleportation. Bringing yourself small distances, not across the universe. But you were running out of choices. You didn’t have the quinjet, and even though it took some magical assistance to fly, it couldn’t go all the way back to Earth anyway. No Tesseract. No Loki. And somehow that hurt worse than the idea that there was no way out.

Just try it.

It was a small voice in your head, but a powerful one. So, you brought up your hands. You could feel your eyes cloud over. A deep black took over them, so dark it reflected the universe around you. Loki would’ve thought it was beautiful. But right now, that’s not significant. Black veins spread out from your eyes and your hands began to burn. You made yourself a pathway. One stretching a far distance, one that was difficult to control. Just stay in the path. That’s it. You held your hand in front of you and let the shadows take over the air. It spread, surrounding you. And then you felt it.

That deep, aching burning. The one you felt before. When you died the first time. You felt yourself losing control, for a moment you swore you passed out. Like your head drifted for a minute outside of whatever path you had made. Like you dipped your face into a volcano. A stinging pain that had become familiar. And it was worse than anything you had thought of. Tearing the skin from your face may be less painful. But you kept focused. Now was not the time to strand yourself in space.

It spread over you like a disease, lighting every nerve on fire. It hurt. It hurt you much you didn’t even realize you were screaming. You pictured somewhere you knew. Not on Earth, but close enough. And soon, you felt a cool breeze on your skin. Like cold water on a burn wound. It hurt more. But the burning faded for the most part. It faded from your legs, and your arms, and your chest, but you felt it in your face still. That same intense burn. Your hand reflexively covered it, but the pain didn’t stop. You felt darkness cover your hand as you held it to your eye. More of a numbing agent than a healing one, but now you could hear yourself think. You pulled your hand away and realized one eye was blurry. Like part of it was block but some object in your way. But you felt nothing but the cool, fluffy grass of Kalan.

#loki x reader #loki #salem #saved work #fanfic

[qandnoablog]

Titan (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Discovered

Pairing: There is no final pairing (since I follow along with the movies as accurately as I can) but [Y/N] does gravitate towards Loki

Warnings: Based on the movie - Avengers: Infinity War

Part: 13, [12], [11], [10], [9], [8], [7], [6], [5], [4], [3], [2], [1] Short story: [3], [2], [1]

Key: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 2,627

Summary: Taking the fight to Thanos seemed like a straight forward plan, but [Y/N] knew first hand just how capable their enemy was. Now that he had more stones in his arsenal, she couldn’t help but feel like the odds were against them. Still, they are the Avengers! They faced impossible odds before. This time shouldn’t be any different, right?

Note From Author: Another part is now out! I should be updating more regularly now so if you all are still keeping up with the Discovered series, please make sure to check in every week :)

Part 13 - Titan

A lot happened after that.

After saving Strange, sending the pale alien out into open space, “knighting” Peter as an official Avenger, and finalizing their objectives, the group decided to face off with Thanos on Titan. Rather than bring the fight back to Earth, it was better to surprise him on his own turf. Of course, [Y/N] had strong objections with this plan at first, but thinking about it objectively, she had to agree. There would be countless casualties in a battle that Thanos had envisioned for Earth. Rather than allow such an event, it would be safer for everyone to have them face off the root of the problem far from their loved ones.

When the ship crashed onto the planet, the team was unprepared for the sudden landing. The metal broke apart right as it hit solid ground. Tony and Peter tried their best to steer the ship, though they didn’t know how to properly work the controls, while Strange and [Y/N] worked hard to protect the group from the impact. He utilized his magic to protect the area around them while [Y/N] used her powers to provide a sturdy barrier that draped around each individual person.

Everything was sparking, the machines all torn apart, but due to Strange and [Y/N]’s joint efforts, none were harmed. Though a bit disoriented by the landing, they were all safe and soon quickly got up.

Before the team could feel at ease with their situation, trouble had to come knocking. Right when Peter finished warning the team with another one of his movie references, an object rolled on the ground and stopped in the center of their small circle. [Y/N] could barely collect her thoughts when it suddenly opened, a flash of light and energy propelling each and every one of them backwards.

Her powers instinctively shielded her from the blast, allowing her to come out with no broken bones but with some minor bruises. She was starting to feel very annoyed, and immediately shrouded herself in a blanket of air and energy, promptly turning invisible before anyone could lock onto her.

“Thanos!”

A gruff and unfamiliar voice yelled out, a mixture of anger and impulsive rage, as Strange quickly protected himself with magic to stop the flying knives from finding their mark. The stranger roared, his skin a grayish color with odd tattoos, that looked more like engravings, all over his body. Before he could get another sound out, however, Strange sent out his cloak that swiftly tied itself around the new arrival’s head, muffling all his incessant shouting.

Iron Man and the stranger with a weird helmet fired at one another, the two flying with their tech. When it seemed like Tony had the upper hand, the helmeted man chuckled to himself as he pressed a button. Looking down at his chest, Tony saw a foreign object near his arc reactor that hummed with energy and a strong magnetic pull forced him onto one of the metallic objects of the ship.

“Tony!” [Y/N] called out, causing the helmeted man to be momentarily confused when a voice seemed to come out from nowhere.

She ignored the attacker’s confusion as she used her powers to help wedge Iron Man off of the metal he was stuck to. It wasn’t easy. The magnetic force of the object was surprisingly very strong. It was a joint effort to pry him off.

When Iron Man was finally free, he immediately rushed off to the fallen alien, who was still struggling with the sentient cloak. The moment Tony had his arm out, ready to shoot, the cloak let go of its prisoner and returned to Strange. Seeing this, the helmeted man grabbed Spider-Man, who was entangled by a strange, possibly electrical, rope and pointed his gun to the kid’s head.

[Y/N]’s heart skipped a beat, seeing her friend being held hostage in front of her, and quickly shot out a wave of energy to enclose around Peter’s body. She wasn’t sure how strong the weapon was nor if her powers were able to defend from a fatal blow at such close range, but if she was stupid enough to take on an infinity stone [Author’s Note: Part 7 - War], then she was damn well brave enough to take on a hit from an alien gun.

“Everybody, stay where you are!” The man yelled with the weapon still pointed at Spider-Man’s head, “Chill the eff out!”

[Y/N] was just about ready to send out her powers to wrench off the stranger’s arm away from Peter when the man reached over to his helmet and pressed a button. It quickly came off him, revealing a human face underneath that mask. She was stunned, surprised to find someone who looked human rather than an alien like his other comrades.

“I’m gonna ask you this one time. Where is Gamora?”

“Yeah, I’ll do you one better,” Tony instantly replied, his helmet coming off too, “Who’s Gamora?”

“I’ll do you one better,” the alien under Tony’s foot challenged, “Why is Gamora?”

Now this left [Y/N] baffled. Their demands were something that none of them were expecting. The sudden fight didn’t really startle them too much, considering they were now on enemy territory, but the reason behind the battle left all present very confused.

“Tell me where the girl is or I swear to you, I’m gonna French-fry this little freak.”

The moment that man said those words, something in [Y/N] just snapped.

“Do that and I’ll burst your body like an overfilled balloon,” [Y/N] warned, her voice dripping with an icy, murderous tone.

This was a first for her. She was even startled by how calm she felt even though those bone chilling words had exited her own lips, but upon further thought, she found this change to be natural. After witnessing so much, fighting alongside many people, and seeing first hand how some of her friends had fallen… How could she not have hardened her heart? Besides, in this line of business, killing wasn’t unusual. It’s just… She’d never actually openly taken a life. It was all in self-defense. Would she come out of this battle unscathed?

It wasn’t just her that was shocked by her words. Both her own team and those against her were also surprised. The group that had started this fight was startled to hear a voice without some sort of body. Clearly, [Y/N] was still invisible. Her friends, on the other hand, were feeling many emotions. Strange might not have known [Y/N] the way Tony and Peter had, but he still understood her character enough to know she wasn’t a hardened killer. That’s when everyone’s emotions shifted from shock to distressed.

Her friends were especially distressed when the two realized that the conviction in her voice held no trace of a lie. It was a promise, those words she said. Seeing how far she’d go, it was enough to show how much she endured this whole time. She did not want to lose any more of her friends. She did not want to sacrifice any more of her loved ones’ lives. Just how much did she see? Just how much did she suffer to come this far?

“Just try it, creepy disembodied voice,” the man taunted, calling her bluff.

The sad part was… [Y/N] wasn’t bluffing.

Before she could do anything rash, Tony quickly interjected.

“Let’s do it. You shoot my guy and I’ll blast him!” Tony indicated with his outstretched arm, his suit shifting into a blaster that was equipped and ready to shoot at the alien’s head.

“Do it, Quill!” The gray alien under Tony called out, his eyes never leaving the barrel of the blaster pointed right at his face. “I can take it.”

“No, he can’t take it!” The female alien countered, clearly worried for the gray alien’s life.

“She’s right. You can’t,” Strange agreed.

“Oh, yeah?” The man, Quill, scoffed, “You don’t wanna tell me where she is? That’s fine. I’ll kill all three of you and I’ll beat it out of Thanos myself. Startin’ with you.”

The moment [Y/N] heard his gun hum to life, her whole body went stiff. Her energy that was sent to wrap protectively around Peter began to twist and turn, being fed more and more power as [Y/N]’s focus zeroed in on her friend’s captor. She was just about ready to attack when Strange interrupted her murderous thoughts.

“Wait, what? Thanos?” Strange repeated, puzzled. “All right, let me ask you this one time. What master do you serve?”

“What master do I serve?” Quill mocked, clearly not understanding what Strange was getting at. “What am I supposed to say? Jesus?”

“You’re from Earth,” Tony concluded, a bit annoyed and no longer feeling the need to fight.

“I’m not from Earth. I’m from Missouri.”

“Yeah, that’s on Earth, dip-shit. What are you hassling us for?” Tony questioned, now completely fed up with this man.

“So, you’re not with Thanos?” Peter asked.

“With Thanos?” Quill repeated, now completely confused. “No, I’m here to kill Thanos. He took my girl. Wait, who are you?”

He finally put down the gun, and [Y/N] followed and withdrew her powers that were building up, ready to explode. She was still wary of these strangers, but she now knew that they were no longer their enemies.

“We’re the Avengers, man,” Peter replied as his mask came off.

Hearing those words, Quill released Peter and let out an exasperated sigh. He was also irritated to hear that his long-awaited revenge had not been fulfilled.

Seeing this, [Y/N] dissipated the energy shrouding her, becoming completely visible for all to see. Those that didn’t know who she was were stunned to find a woman appear out of thin air. Now they knew where the “creepy, disembodied voice” was coming from.

“You’re the ones Thor told us about!” The female alien said.

“Thor?” [Y/N] exclaimed, no longer showing the icy emotions she felt when Peter’s life was in danger. “Did you say Thor? He’s alive?”

~

[Y/N] was very clear on the plan, but never was she so disgusted with the enemy that she wanted to abandon all logic and just bash his psychotic head into the ground.

His plan was sick. Just a snap of his fingers and millions - no, trillions - of innocents would just vanish from the face of the universe. No one would be spared by such a feat and yet that was his ultimate goal. To purge the universe of its over accumulating population so that none would have to go hungry to the point of extinction again. He acted like a prophet, sacrificing his time and efforts for the good of the universe, but it was just the twisted ravings of a madman.

Mercy? More like cruelty. Everything he spouted was inhumane. A monster in every way.

“I think you’ll find our will equal to yours,” Strange said.

“Our?” Thanos repeated in confusion.

That was the signal. Following that, Tony barreled into Thanos with a piece of the alien spaceship, crushing Thanos beneath the unimaginable weight of the metal. Dust clouds emerged from the ground and flew outwards from the impact, draping the vicinity in a thick layer of dirt and dust. But even that wasn’t enough to stop Thanos.

A purple glow shot out from where Thanos was hit and the metal broke apart, revealing himself to be uninjured and free. He yelled out in anger from the surprise attack, using another stone to change the metallic debris into a swarm of bat-like creatures that rammed into Iron Man.

Everyone worked together after that. There was no time or room for a breather.

Hitting in any possible way, propelling one another towards Thanos for another hit, and dodging so as to not lose their lives. That was the fighting style that everyone took part in. It was complete and utter chaos, yet still there was some semblance of rhythm. There was no gap to allow Thanos time to use his infinity stones. Even the surprising new addition, the blue woman who was also looking for the girl named Gamora, didn’t hinder their plan. In fact, she followed along and joined in on their battle. And no one seemed to question it. As long as it was an enemy of Thanos, she was deemed a friend.

Strange and [Y/N] were on support. He would portal several of the team towards and away from Thanos while [Y/N] used her powers to protect them from most of the damage on behalf of the others. Her hands were now bruised all over, taking hit after hit, but she disregarded that familiar pain and pressed on. The others threw punch after punch, causing Thanos to be bombarded with attacks from all around.

The goal was simple. Get that gauntlet away from Thanos.

Finally, all their efforts were paying off as they had succeeded in getting Mantis, the female alien on Quill’s team, onto Thanos and forcing him to go under. With everyone struggling to keep the purple giant in place, it was Tony and Peter’s job to pry off the gauntlet from the semi-unconscious Thanos.

But everything went to hell in just a single moment of impulsive anger and grief.

“He… He mourns,” Mantis cried as she felt the swirl of emotions going through Thanos’ head.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax, the tattooed alien, questioned as he strained to keep Thanos’ arm down.

“Gamora,” the blue newcomer answered, realizing the truth.

“What?” Quill asked as he turned away from Thanos and towards the blue alien.

“He took her to Vormir,” she replied, “He came back with the Soul Stone. But she didn’t.”

Tony knew what those words meant and tried to calm Quill down. The whole team was already struggling to pry off the gauntlet from this monster, so it was unwise to let one act of anger mess up the whole plan. But even [Y/N] could sense the unrest within Quill that the truth had ignited. She understood the anger and pain he was feeling, but she also knew this wasn’t the time to act. Not yet.

“Don’t!” [Y/N] pleaded as she struggled to keep Thanos down alongside the rest of them. “It’s not time yet! Don’t!”

But it was too late.

Shit! [Y/N] internally screamed as Thanos finally broke out of his trance.

Everyone holding onto Thanos was flung off the moment he regained his senses. The plan was crumbling before everyone’s eyes as the monster regained the upper hand and separated the team into all different directions. Some fainted from the intense blow of the infinity stone while others were desperately trying to evade the onslaught of debris from the destroyed moon that Thanos had sent their way.

Tony tried to fly away in time but was caught up by a massive piece of the moon while Peter and [Y/N] quickly set out to save those that couldn’t dodge for themselves. However, before she could actually put in the effort of saving a few of her new comrades, something appeared below her feet. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening in the heat of battle, and she couldn’t stop what came next.

Gravity worked against her and just as [Y/N] recognized the magic at play, she heard his voice.

“You are needed elsewhere,” the culprit said, his voice cracking with exhaustion.

“Stephen!” [Y/N] yelled with all her might in both disbelief and fury as she fell through the portal to places unknown.

That was all she could scream out right before disappearing from Titan.

[PART 14]

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch  @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear @fxckingfat​ @e7here4l

#marvel imagine #marvel #Discovered #Avengers #mutatnt!reader #avenger!reader #infinity war #titan #tony stark #Iron Man #peter parker #spider-man #Doctor Stephen Strange #doctor strange #guardians of the galaxy #peter quill #star lord #mantis #drax #nebula #gamora #thanos #fanfics

[younger-days-au]

Evening and Night (Similarities Part 3)

The sun went down when they set up a new camp.

Nobody wanted to walk around Wild's Hyrule at night and so they had made that decision.

They quickly started the campfire and built up their tents.

Like yesterday the new hero planned on sleeping on his own bedroll without a tent.

Warriors worried the Hero would get sick should he sleep without a tent again  but his worries quickly found an end.

“I'm not a child! I sleep every time when I'm outside on my own travels without a tent. You don't need to fake your worry about my well-being.”

 It still made Warriors uneasy that the new hero often wouldn’t meet Warriors' eyes.

 “Stop treating me like I'm a child!”

Tears were streaming down Young Link's face.

“I hate when you do that! I'm old enough and maybe even older than you mentally!”

The smaller was closing his eyes, the sobs were getting louder.

“Stop pretending that you care about me...”

 Warriors closed his eyes for a second, thinking about what he should do.

With a sigh he spoke calmly: ”I was just worried that you would feel excluded. But if you're sure with just sleeping on a bedroll and not share the tent with one of us then that's okay too,” a small smile graced Warriors' lips, “I just want you to know that there's still the possibility to share a tent if you ever want to.”

The Hero didn't answer.

Then Wild asked the group a question :”What do you want for dinner?” He held the wooden spoon, made by Sky, already in his hands.

Wind raised one of his hands. “Ohhh, I want to have something with fish today!” The youngest hero looked excited when he said that.

The fire crackled faintly, coloring their surroundings in a warm red and caused a relaxed atmosphere.

Wild laughed lightly at Wind's excitement. “Alright, do any of you have wishes what I should add to it or do I have a free choice?”

Everybody shook their head and for a moment Wild looked quietly at the new hero.

“We're going to have a dessert today too,” Wild decided in that second, “because of our new audition to the group. Do you want something, Link?”

It seemed that only Wild had no problem to call the Hero still Link but had he another choice?

The Hero bit on his lip, looking down on his hands because of an uncomfortable feeling he had at that moment.

“I don't have any wishes.”  His hands trembled a little when he signed that.

Wild didn't let this answer irritate him.

“I could make you 'Wildberry Crepe” that's with whipped cream and berries and really tasty.”

Wild and Warriors both could have sworn that they saw the Hero's eyes light up for a small second but it vanished quickly again.

“If you want to.”

 Link laughed out loud.

“Please, give me a piece of the pie. It even has whipped cream on it,” the small Hero of Time begged the captain, “pretty please.”

He tried to use his puppy eyes on Link.

“You know that those eyes don't work on me anymore,” Link smiled genuinely at the boy, who desperately wanted the dessert, “but because I feel so generous today I'm going to give you a piece.”

 When Wild finished cooking he gave everyone a skewer with fish and mushroom and nearly everyone accepted the food gladly except one person.

“Aren't you hungry? I didn't see you eat something except a few berries when we were still in your Hyrule,” Wild asked, his voice was laced with worry. He didn't want the Hero blacking out because of starvation.

“I'm fine.”

“You won't be fine if you continue this! What do you think will happen when you don't get enough food?!” The other Links had never heard Wild speaking this angry before.

“Why would you care?” The seriousness in the new hero's eyes was unmistakable. He really thought that they didn't care.

Wild took a few deep breaths, than answered with ignoring the question: “If you don't want to accept my food then just let me show you which plants and fruits you can eat here. It wouldn’t help anyone if you’d starve,” he closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm his breath, “so please don't do that because you don't trust us enough.”

A few moments of complete silence.

“Alright.”

Hope shined in Wild's eyes.

“But I'm not going to eat your food today.” The Hero continued, not giving in.

Wild and the Hero both looked at each other stubbornly before seconds later Wild admitted his defeat in that discussion.

Warriors could had sworn that he had never seen Wild so defeated before.

The Hero of the Wild looked like he was ready to stuff food into the new hero's mouth to get him to eat.

But Warriors knew that Wild would never do that.

After that argument the Links except the new hero started eating the delicious food Wild had made.

It tasted heavenly and everyone was glad that Wild could cook unlike all of them.

Wind was one of the few who quickly finished their food.

The others, who were quickly finished with their food, were Legend and Hyrule.

Hyrule wanted to  small talk a bit so the mood in the camp could lighten up.

“So I know that some of you play instruments but I just wanted to ask which instruments do you all play?” the Hero of Hyrule showed them proudly his instruments, “I played for example a recorder and a flute.” 

When Legend saw the “flute” he had to laugh. “I'm sorry to disappoint you but that's an ocarina.”

“Oh really?,” Hyrule said playful, “and how would you know that, oh great Hero of Legends?”

Then Legend showed them his arsenal of instruments and every Link was speechless. They were so many. He had 14 instruments and a ocarina, a lyre, drums and a real flute were just a few examples.

Sky could only murmur: “Wow, that is impressive. I only play the lyre or the Harp of the Goddess if you will.”

“Don't sell yourself short. I only have so many instruments because of my many adventures,” Legend told them. He put all the instruments back in his bag. “So how about you, captain? Did you have any instruments that you could show us?”

Warriors looked like he waited his whole life to show them his instruments. But then he said: “Well I don't have any of them with me like you do but I play the lyre and the ocarina. I play the lyre better. On my quest I had a good teacher, who showed me how to improve my ocarina skills.”

 “What are you doing?” A young voice asked, trying to suppress a laugh.

“I'm playing the ocarina,” Link was trying to defend himself.

He knew that he wasn't the best at playing this but that's the reason he had to practice it. He didn't expect anyone to find him here.

“It sounds horrible, doesn't it?” He asked his younger counterpart defeated.

Young Link shook his head.

“Don't worry. I’ve heard more horrible playing than this but I also knew someone who was better so you're in the middle,” he answered.

Slowly he took a blue ocarina out of his bag.

“I could show you how to play it right,” he just said with shyness in his voice.

“I would be honored.”

 “Do you play any instruments?” Warriors asked the Hero, not wanting to exclude the new hero in their group from this conversation.

“A few”

“Come on, that can't be the only answer you can give us. We want more details,” Four said to him.

The Hero closed his eyes for a moment and he had to think about a band from long ago, where he played- where Mikau played the guitar.

He sighed. “I also play the ocarina.”  He didn't want them to know everything about him.

Warriors stopped breathing for a moment there were too many similarities to be a coincidence. The new hero had to be Young Link, right?

“Please show us your ocarina,” Wind asked with big eyes, trying to use his puppy eyes.

When the new hero took out the ocarina out of his bag, Warriors expected it to be the Ocarina of Time but that wasn't the case.

It was a normal light brown ocarina.

Young Link only told him about the Ocarina of Time, never mentioned another ocarina to him and Warriors couldn't believe that Young Link would lose the Ocarina of Time, so it had to be a coincidence again.

Warriors wished with his whole heart that he would see the young boy from his adventures again.

“His nickname could be Ocarina!” Wind exclaimed happily.

“That doesn't even make sense. Warriors, Hyrule and Legend and I play the ocarina too.” Four said to the youngest in the group.

“Oh, sorry,” Wind answered slightly embarrassed.

“Don't worry. We will think of something tomorrow. Is that alright with you, Link?” Wild asked the new hero, who only nodded.

 The Links couldn't convince any of the others to play a instrument that day but that was okay for them. It was late and time for bed anyway.

Before the Hero could climb a tree again Warriors grabbed one of his hands. Like the day before the Hero flinched at the touch and he quickly let go.

“I'm sorry for keeping you for a moment from climbing that tree but I had a question.”

This whole situation was making Warriors feel anxious but he knew that he would never sleep that night if he didn't get an answer.

“What is it?”

It was a little bit harder to see the hand movements in the night but to their luck the campfire was still on. 

Four had the first night-watch.

 “Could you promise me something, Link?” Young Link asked.

 “Did we meet somewhere before all this? I knew a Link from my own adventures but I definitely know that the others aren't him,” Warriors explained to him.

 “Yes, what is it, young one?” Link answered with worry in his voice.

“Do you promise that you'll never forget me?”

��Silence, with that Warriors had a little bit of hope in him.

 “Yes, I promise you. You will forever be my little brother.”

 “I promised him that I will never for-” He was interrupted be the new hero

“I'm sorry but I'm not the one you mean.”  Cold, light blue eyes looked directly into Warriors’ soul. He didn't look sorry at all.

“Are you sure?” Warriors only asked, still full of hope.

“I have never met you in my life.”

Disappointment was the only thing inside Warriors’.

“Sorry that annoyed you with this but I'm just worried about him. Good night then.” Warriors quickly said before fleeing into his tent that he shared with Sky.

 Then the Hero quickly climbed the tree, so he could overlook everything in the camp. He put on a mask that he shouldn't use but he had no other choice if he wanted to be awake all night.

Deep red instead of light blue eyes stared into the distance.

The Hero silently whispered with a rough voice from disuse, to his luck not even the wind heard him.

“Good night.... big brother.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #twilight link #wild link #four link #legend link #Warriors Link #link #sky link #Wind Link #younger days - verse #fanfic