#* insp / step into the power : abilities.

[tracebanner]

Catalysts of Success: The Power of Inspirational Keynote and Business Speakers

In the fast-paced business world, finding the right motivation to push through challenges and achieve success is crucial. This is where inspirational keynote speakers step onto the stage, illuminating the path to success with their wisdom and charisma. These speakers aren't just ordinary individuals; they are the catalysts for transformation, driving change and instilling motivation in their audiences. Let's delve into the world of inspirational keynote speakers and discover how they play a pivotal role in the business landscape.

The Impact of Inspirational Keynote Speakers:

In today's competitive business environment, speakers of inspirational keynote have become indispensable. They have a unique capacity to establish a solid emotional connection with their audience. People experiencing problems find solace in hearing about others who have overcome similar obstacles. This connection sparks inspiration and ignites the drive to overcome obstacles. Speakers of inspirational keynote are not just presenters but mentors, guiding their listeners towards their paths of success.

Empowering Change Through Motivational Inspirational Business Speakers:

Inspirational business speakers, a subset of keynote speakers, are specifically tailored to address the corporate world's needs. They bring a wealth of knowledge and experience, making them invaluable assets for organizations. These speakers can invigorate teams, foster innovation, and enhance productivity. Whether a sales team needs a boost or a leadership conference seeking fresh perspectives, motivational, inspirational business speakers provide the spark for transformative change.

The Art of Effective Communication:

One of the critical attributes of speakers of inspirational keynote is their exceptional communication skills. They are skilled storytellers, crafting engaging and motivational tales. Their words have the power to transcend boundaries, cultures, and backgrounds. Through eloquent speeches, they instil a sense of purpose and determination. As individuals absorb their messages, they leave with a renewed sense of optimism and a belief in their ability to overcome challenges.

Choosing the Right Speaker for Your Event:

Selecting the perfect inspirational keynote or business speaker for an event is critical. It requires careful consideration of the audience, event objectives, and the speaker's expertise. Organizations should seek speakers who align with their values and goals. Researching past performances and testimonials can provide insights into the speaker's impact. Making the proper decision may have a beneficial impact and bring about change.

Conclusion:

Speakers of inspirational keynote and motivational inspirational business speakers are the guiding lights in the business world. They offer more than just words; they provide the motivation, inspiration, and empowerment needed for individuals and organizations to thrive. Their ability to connect, communicate, and drive change makes them indispensable in today's competitive landscape. So, consider the wisdom and insights shared by these remarkable individuals when seeking to ignite the flames of motivation and transformation. For more inspiration, visit tracebanner.com, where you can discover a wealth of knowledge from some of the most renowned speakers in the industry.

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[icecrwned]

*  study   /   the cold never bothered me anyway :  elsa. *  study   /   no rules for me :  elsa. *  study   /   grow yourself into something new :  headcanon. *  study   /   i seek the truth :  headcanon. *  study   /   i am found :  headcanon.  *  study   /   i seek the truth :  general. *  study   /   we know better :  general.

#*  insp   /   like the break of dawn :  aesthetic. #*  insp   /   the cold never bothered me anyway :  isms. #*  insp   /   conceal don’t feel :  isms. #*  insp   /   it’s time to see what i can do :  abilities. #*  insp   /   step into the power :  abilities. #*  insp   /   this swirling storm inside :  musings. #*  insp   /   fit for a queen :  closet.

#*  dyn   /   i will be right here. #*  dyn   /   holding on tight to you. #*  dyn   /   you’re my true north. 

#*  here i stand in the light of day   /   visage. *  ch :  anna *  ch :  kristoff *  ch :  sven *  ch :  olaf *  ch :  agnarr *  ch :  iduna  *  ch :  hans   *  ch :  honeymaren 

[cl-01-kestis]

My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 6

Summary: You’ve been in a secret relationship with Cal for a while now, and during a mission on Bracca, you discover a more than surprising secret.

Warnings: Threat

Life got strange ever since the day you were broken out of prison, in a good way of course. You and Cal have been with one another for 3 months now, you’ve grown into happy and comfortable people because of each other’s endless support and appreciation. Cal was the missing piece for you, and you were the light in the dark for him, but it wasn’t enough to bring him to the light side.

Cal continued to be an Inquisitor in fear that Darth Vader would find and kill him if he left and vanished. You chose to stay a Rebel instead of join the Empire and get a job there, you refused to join something so corrupt, but you respected Cal’s decision and thankfully he respected yours.

The war between the Empire and Rebellion was getting worse and overtime you started losing a lot of your friends to battles. The Inquisitors continued cutting through the Rebels like butter, and you had no backup plan that could save yourselves.

You’ve almost died on many occasions, you’ve almost given up and accepted death, but then you remember Cal and everything he’s done for you. You haven’t died yet because within you there’s a love and determination so powerful because you don’t want to let Cal down. You don’t want to leave him in a war and without someone there to help him, that would be too selfish and heartbreaking.

Recently you’ve been jumping from place to place, and this has been the most time you’ve been away from your home on Yavin. A mission came up recently that involved a handful of Rebels going undercover to the planet Bracca to discover possible Empire plans. You were one of those rebels, no surprise, it was about time you’d left to go on a long, outdrawn mission that could rescue the Rebellion instead of always fixing ships and vehicles.

You were next to your commanding officer, back against a large scrapyard wall and clinging tightly to your pistol. The weather in Bracca was dreadful, you’re thankful you brought gloves and an extra scarf or else you’d be freezing to death. Stormy clouds rumbled above you and your squad as you padded through multiple scrapyards which felt like a never ending maze. You had to stop on multiple occasions to get some rest and get a drink or eat something to increase your energy.

The vibe around Bracca felt like it was draining you, you were tired, cold, frustrated and your body ached. You wish Cal could’ve been here, that way you’d be a lot more energised and ready to go. But this was different, you hadn’t seen Cal in a while and you’d grown a tad bit colder.

After two days of walking through scrapyards, your team finally decided to split up to speed up the process of finding something. You were thankfully on your own, able to concentrate on your thoughts without someone yapping in your ear the whole time. You had your own rations and a large flask of water in your heavy weight backpack that weighed you down massively, but you didn’t give up.

Your feet screamed for you to stop but you couldn’t, you had to find something. A strange sense of warmth filled your chest and for a moment you thought Cal was nearby, but from what you could see there was no Tie fighter nearby and no Inquisitor.

The warmth in your chest was pulling you to something, distant whispers of a child echoed in your ear as you grabbed onto wires and metal walls and pulled yourself up to the next platform. The rain poured down onto your face and cleaned away any muck you had on it before.

As you hoisted yourself up, your head peeking over the edge of the wall and into the platform, your eyes widened when you saw a bright purple hue swirling around what seemed to be a screwdriver. Bewildered, you stood up and approached the purple hue cautiously, afraid in case it might be hostile. You crouched down to It’s level and heard multiple voices calling to you, the whispers of the child now loud and clear as your hand slowly pulled out and reached forward.

And suddenly, everything went silent.

You looked up from your spot and realised the purple hue was gone, your surroundings now covered in a similar hue as a transparent, familiar figure stood in front of you. A young boy, about 16, stood next to you holding the same screwdriver that was on the floor, twirling it between his fingers as he hummed a soft song to himself. He wore headphones on his head and took off his hood, revealing a batch of fiery red hair. You froze in your spot, mouth hung open in shock as the vision of a young teenage Cal walked in front of you.

He was oblivious that you were here, it was clear this was some kind of hallucination. His eyes were a soft baby blue instead of that sharp yet beautiful gold you always saw. Cal’s outfit consisted of combats, boots, a grey/blue long sleeved T-shirt and a thick weighted vest over his torso. This wasn’t the Cal you knew, it had to be a vision of who he used to be before turning into an Inquisitor.

Young Cal looked around from all directions before looking to his waist and pulling out a glorious lightsaber, igniting it to reveal a bright blue that illuminated everything around it. Cal’s eyes gleamed and he smiled to himself, twirling the lightsaber skilfully around his body and getting into fighting stances, pretending to fight an enemy as he waved the lightsaber around in front of him and practiced his fighting for a while until hearing someone call for him in the distance.

“Coming!” He said, his voice sounding so much more light and innocent as he hid his lightsaber and ran in the direction of the voice.

And then you shifted back into the sad reality of the scrapyard, the rain poured and made your hair wet to the point it looked like you’d been thrown in a pool. Droplets of rain fell off the edges of your hair and onto the ground. A sudden, strange weight in your hand caught your attention, your eyes looking down and lifting your arm up to see a lightsaber - the same one that Cal was holding from the vision. It’s golden body gleamed as droplets fell onto it and rolled off the ride.

You took a step back in astonishment, raising the lightsaber right in front of your face and inspecting its every detail. This situation was so sudden, first the vision and now the lightsaber.

Who gave it to you? When on Earth did you pick it up? You were certain it wasn’t around before you saw the vision. You looked at the other side of the saber and notices a small button, you knew immediately what this did. You couldn’t deny the urge you felt as your thumb traced over the button, you wanted to see for yourself what this weapon looked like.

Out of impulse, you pressed the button and almost dropped the saber as a beautiful bright blue blinded your vision, your eyes not used to the harsh light since they were adjusted to the darkness of Bracca.

You waved it around, your eyes wide with amazement and your mind rushing with so many questions and undeniable excitement. You never thought in your 21 years of life you’d be holding something so special and so sacred. This was a Jedi’s weapon, not exactly the same to the blasters you were used to. This was all so surreal and then the realisation dawned on you.

Why did you, of all people, have a lightsaber? This wasn’t yours and you weren’t a Jedi or force wielder, so why did the saber chose you? Or why was it given to you?

You pressed the button and unsheathed the lightsaber, not wanting any accidents to happen. You clipped it to your belt next to your blaster, your eyes lurking on it for a few more seconds before looking up and inhaling deeply. There was still much more territory to go over, you had all night.

This was going to take a while.

-

There it was again. The silent whisper of a child. You desperately tried to follow it and walked into many wrong directions whilst you were at it. You’d heard it many times since the last and it was getting to the point it was driving you insane. The lightsaber had come in handy in getting through dark areas and cutting through blocked paths. You made sure not to keep it on constantly to avoid unwanted attention from nearby mechanics, you were also still trying to get used to the fact that you all-of-a-sudden had this lightsaber in your hand, zero experience of how to even remotely use it.

And slipped through the cracks of the buildings made from scraps of machine, injuring yourself slightly in the process and suffering from many cuts and bruises from trying to make your way around the area. You didn’t bump into any other rebels but you could see a few of them from a distance, and by a distance you meant small specs from miles away. You didn’t even know how you noticed them, you were positive your eye sight wasn’t the best.

You found another purple hue, once again it was hovering above something on the ground and the noise that came from it was a child’s whisper. You crept forward to it, making sure your lightsaber was kept hidden underneath your green poncho as you sat cross legged in front of the purple hue and reached out to it, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. It was strange, you felt a connection with the hue, it felt like a force dragging you towards something significant. You were slowly coming to the realisation that this might possibly mean you had a gift, maybe something like a hyper sensor ability that made you aware of everything around you. Or maybe, just maybe... the force.

As you dipped your hand into the purple glowing hue, a sudden sharp pain stabbed at your hand and you drew it back immediately, looking down at it to see where the pain was coming from.

There was a large scar on your hand that had been there for as long as you could remember, it had always been a part of you. It was on the back of your hand and dragged from your pinky to the centre of your outer wrist. However, when you looked down to inspect it, it was wide open and bleeding tons. Your first instinct was to panic but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You’d never seen it before the scar formed, you can’t even remember how you got it. It was deep, you could see muscle and all the strange insides of your body, it made you want to be sick.

You tore a bit of your poncho off and wrapped it tightly around the wound to suppress the bleeding, sucking in a sharp breath as you applied pressure to the cut.

“This is strange” You mumbled to yourself, looking back at the purple hue that hadn’t vanished yet like the other, you realised you had yet to see what this one had in store. Reluctant, you reached your bandages hand out to give it a second try, if this one didn’t work then you’d just leave it and find another hue. You closed your eyes, preparing for the same sharp pain but instead opening your eyes to see that you were in another vision. The surroundings were coated in a fairly transparent purple and multiple bodies were around you.

You looked behind you when you heard blaster shots, ducking your head down immediately and looking up to see a young Jedi girl wielding a small lightsaber, blocking blaster blows that were shot in her direction by clone soldiers, lots of them. By her side was her Master, taking down the clones and defending her as much as they could. You were still in Bracca, the same environment but set in an era long ago.

The girl had (H/C) hair and soft yet grubby (S/C) skin, cuts covered her body and her Jedi robes were dirty and scarlet with blood that wasn’t all hers.

The girls eyes were full of fear, she continued blocking blaster shots until a clone trooper holding a blade approached her, running rapidly and throwing the blade down on her, only to swipe the back of her hand deeply and cause a painful scream to rip from the young girls throat. As a result, the young girl raised her lightsaber and cut the troopers head clean off before she realised the rest of the clones had been killed by her master. Bewildered, the girl fell on her backside and burst into tears, holding her head in her hands and smudging blood on the side of her face with the blood oozing from her hand.

Her master comforted her, reassuring the young Padawan that she was going to be alright and that they had to move or else they’d be caught.

“Come now, (Y/N), we have a long journey ahead of us” The Master said.

Wait... what?

[nctasja]

                               THE HSHQ SUPERPOWER AU                     in a world sans royals, the only thing between order and chaos is superheroes.             these guys didn’t even make the backup squad. 

NATASJA MAGNUSDOTTIR with the power of DEATH VISIONS.  { insp: saru, jordan cross }

natasja, since she was a very young child, has been able to sense death and danger with a startling accuracy. from the moment she was born, she was different from her brother, aleks, who could burst into flame at random intervals. it wasn’t until she was seven that she recognized her power truly, when an old woman nearly died right in front of her, just moments after she’d seen it happen. natasja managed to move into her way and stop her from stepping in front of the oncoming car, saving her life. 

but the energy of death was not kind, and she collapsed moments after, feeling the pain and moments of panic just before death herself, in place of the old woman. she learned that touching was dangerous, and saving lives always cost a little bit of herself there. and so she shut herself off from the world, hiding in long sweaters and never removing her set of gloves. to any outsider, she just seems like a germaphobe, but she’s not shy about her power when you spend the time to get to know her. 

ROWEN MONCADA with the power of ILLUSION MANIPULATION and DREAMWALKING.  { insp: wiccan, kali prasad }

his parents always said he just had an overactive imagination. too bad that imagination would lead to vestiges of snow all over their home, only moved by getting rowen to focus on something else, entirely. their home was practically a hockey rink from when he turned seven until he was thirteen, when he finally got a handle on his emotions and stopped letting himself lose control. he could make you believe pretty much anything was in front of you with a simple turn of his wrist and a lot of brainpower. 

he discovered that he could walk right from his own dream into someone else’s one cold, winter night when he dreamed of a palace he’d never seen and a woman he knew was his own mother. when he confirmed that it was her dream, he realized he’d unlocked somthing else. it’s never with too much accuracy, but sometimes he can solve nightmares of other people in his small town, and he’s gotten to where he can visit his best friend’s far more zen mind and keep her demons at bay fairly regularly. 

ALINA SOLETSKAYA with the power of WEATHER MANIPULATION. { insp: storm, the mermaids on h20 }

the rain in kyiv was very strange during alina’s childhood, and no one could put together why thunderstorms would appear at random, dousing the city with water, and disappear just as quickly. they had no idea that a small child’s mood swings could pretty much convince meteorologists that they were going insane. as she grew, the swings lessened, and when things got rough alina would often hide away and manage to only douse her neighborhood instead of the entire city. 

with every heartbreak, there’s a thunderstorm, with alina right in the middle of it.  before she realized she was doing it, she just thought some higher power was making the weather fit her mood. and once she realized, she managed to make the nicest afternoons out with her friends and the perfect weather for a picnic. but when she gets sad, or angry, she tends to lose control entirely and suddenly everyone in her vicinity is standing in a downpour without an umbrella. 

LUCA D’ANSEMBOURG with the power of SYMPATHETIC TELEPORTATION. { insp: janet, morgan le fay }

luca’s power settled in when he was nine years old. one moment, he was dreaming of not being in the same room as his father while he was lectured, and the next he was lying on top of his own bed. he’d simply popped out of one point of existence and into another, halfway across their home. after the initial panic faded, luca was left with powerless parents who didn’t understand how to deal with his newfound abilities. so, he went off to school and learned how to pop in and out of places at will.

that’s where he met nathalie, who’d been sent to learn to handle her ability to duplicate herself up to thirty times. it was because of her that he discovered he could carry people alongside him when he disappeared. but it came with a cost: he would need to recharge for days after a jump alongside someone else, whereas moving his own body took nearly nothing out of him. this is normally something that would turn a person into a superhero, but luca’s uncoordinated with his jumps, and has on several occasions accidentally ended up in the wrong spot.

PARKER WHITMORE with the power of LIGHT MANIPULATION.  { insp: starlight. that’s it he’s literally starlight from the boys. }

he didn’t mean to do it, he never meant to hurt anyone. but sorry doesn’t fix anything when you’ve blinded five people at age seven. and it doesn’t make anyone less afraid of you. the only people who were willing to be in the same room as him when he was young were his sisters, who he’d never hurt, even involuntarily. but when he finally got a handle on it, and he was allowed to exist outside of his family’s home in virginia, he was a sudden social butterfly. 

the ability of manipulate light is a tricky one. sure, parker can hold a hand out and use a small orb as a flashlight, or he can make something so bright that no one who looks at it will leave without burns in their retinas. he has never had that happen since the incident when he was a child. his mother had always expected he’d be some sort of telepath, like her, and maybe that’s why she adopted the two younger girls, so that she wouldn’t have another fuck up like parker, who, in her mind, is too weak to carry the whitmore name. 

FRANK WILLIAMS with the power of RESURRECTION. { insp: deadpool, sam (death stranding) }

frank was hit with a truck when he was sixteen, and he believed himself completely powerless before he gasped awake in the morgue under the county’s hospital. honestly, you’d think the medical examiner would throw him some clothes before calling the police, but frank ended up explaining that yes, he was frank williams. but no, it appeared he was no longer deceased. from then on, frank was a lot less careful with himself. he was the first senator to ever turn down security altogether. 

when that career ended, he took up the mantle of protector. who better to keep someone safe than someone with no regard for his own life? he easily took bullets and shielded clients from blasts that would have killed any other man, and he never thought twice about it. it’s been almost fifty years since he discovered his power, but even if it’s taking longer and longer for him to wake up, he’s not found a limit just yet to what he can withstand.

[you-are-my-neverland]

hello! i’ve been meaning to properly put together something for a while, but i guess now is as good as a time as ever, given that i’m actually being productive, so:

hi! i’m leah and pretty much as boring as white bread, but i have a creative mind and that’s all i could ask for, really. i write poetry and novels; usually more than i can handle at the same time. i adore tragedy, angst, character arcs, retellings, symbolism, mythology, lore, the supernatural, and fantasy. talking to people is not my strong suit, but i love gushing over other’s wips and characters!

right now i’m currently working on three whole wips at the same time. never before in my life have i been good at summaries, and i don’t think i’m going to start being stellar at them now, but here is my best shot at introducing my babies in a paragraph (or three, as i like to shamelessly promote):

i. fairbone  fae fantasy novel→66k/80k (goal)

elias bluespeer is given a mission to find the last fairbone, who just happens to be a halfling named thieu who works in a circus. along the way, elias bumps into his old childhood friend, ruka, who is now kind of his enemy, but not really. together, our three protagonists and a few complex allies must brave the seelie court, while also trying to solve their own emotional problems.

a. excerpt

“Did you come to fight?” he asked.

“Not your wars,” Ruka responded. 

“Then why—” Elias started.

“I won’t ask why you’re here,” Ruka interrupted. “So don’t inquire about why I’m here.” He half turned, then paused and looked back. “I’m sure it’s for the same reason anyways.” Elias’ lips parted, but Ruka had already stepped into the shadows and melted away into nothing.

ii. these violent ends camp nano 2020 project; urban fantasy insp. by shakespearean themes→3k/25k (goal)

a girl and her brother arrive in new york city in 1925. they are tenebris bellators, demon and ghost fighting warriors descended from fallen angels. they are ophelia and sebastian beaulieu, descendants of lucifer: a girl determined to bring her family name back to honor and a boy more attached to the dead than the living. however, life in new york is not as glamorous as it seems, and soon the beaulieu’s and their assorted allies find themselves tasked with stopping doomsday.

b. excerpt

She was not at the New York Sector to study—she was there because they no longer had a choice. They were children of a traitor who had killed himself. They were a disgrace. The Beaulieu’s name had been smeared through the mud in these last few weeks and dragged into the depths of Hell.

But even Lucifer had fallen from grace itself, and the Beaulieu’s were his descendants, not any other angel’s. They were nothing if not resourceful, and if Ophelia had her way, they would rise to power once again. It was only a matter of time.

iii. the metamorphosis of the lost literally a new idea and i’m rolling with it→dark fantasy novel (1.5k/?)

project l: twelve (eleven) teenagers brought back to the dead and finding themselves changed, each having a unique ability. emrys walker is number twelve, and with her arrival (or, rebirth) the plans behind project l are set into motion by their mysterious manufacturer, known only as ‘the practitioner’. the teens find themselves thrown into a mix of games, heists, and royal politics as they balance their second chance at lives, all while dealing with the fact that no one escapes from Death--and He is not happy that they have.

c. excerpt

“You don’t have to lie to me, Emrys,” Diem said with a laugh and a shake of her head. “I get it. Finding out you’re not really dead is usually a lot to handle, but the moment most people realize it—” She snapped her fingers. “They get an adrenaline rush. Everyone likes being alive again, unless you’re a religious freak, and I doubt you are, because the only thing people worship here is Death Himself.”

& that’s me, folks!

[frgmcnts]

as promised, below is a rundown + some wanted connections for my gal, and if you’re interested in plotting, you know the drill! 

misc: stats / bio

STORY

kantarra ismaren / 27 / badass thief / 🐍

insp: the lovely ladies of z nation (my first love), ada wong, villanelle 

essentially grew up on the streets of kessel and had no clue who her parents were. there was a rumour floating around that they might’ve been trafficked across to work in the mines, but no one really bothered to confirm this since y’know, street kid and all. considered the other outcasts of society as her family members.

reluctantly resorted to crime to survive. to overcome the initial guilt, she realised that exceptions could be made, especially if it involved accessing the basic necessities such as food/shelter. (safe to say, the guilt doesn’t weigh so heavily on her anymore.)

eventually hitched a ride outta kessel when it became clear that she had no future sticking around, and at least if she left, she had more of a chance of getting her shit together—although it definitely wasn’t in the way she’d expected. 

travelled across the planets and worked herself up the ranks to become a talented + ruthless thief for hire, stealing important artefacts/documents/anything valuable for powerful clients. however the more “popular” she became, the more people wanted her dead. 

successes were outweighed by the following: betrayals, tortures, loss of a limb (no thanks to that jackass from cantonica), loss of friends—the list goes on. while kantarra might be pleased that she hasn’t yet met her demise, that doesn’t mean she’s overlooked the struggle to get this far. 

so, what exactly is she doing on the ship? chased by pirates is what she’ll tell you (”they stabbed me, don’t you see?”) except her true goal is entirely different. for starters, you know that it was a self inflicted wound, right? 👀 

comes across as a friendly, flirtatious and chill kinda gal who’s always down for a good time, regardless of how risky it is. kantarra? shame? they don’t go together and they never will. she adheres by the belief that being serious is more exhausting than it is to just let certain things go— much to the annoyance of those who are under the impression that she’s being too blasé.

sure, she might frequently joke around but that doesn’t mean she should be underestimated. she’s capable of extreme violence and possesses a twisted sense of fun, so don’t 👏 make 👏 her 👏 mad 👏

her loyalty is to herself at the end of the day, don’t be fooled into thinking otherwise. she might help you out today, however you can’t say the same for tomorrow. will certainly sell you out for a potato chip if she had the chance. 

despite coming across as rather nonchalant towards the latest gossip, she’s always listening, always keeping an eye out, always mentally keeping a record of everything for future reference. of course she remembers when you messed up @ 3:31 am. 

in summary: your fun-loving thief who’s perfectly capable of kicking your ass and taking everything you own, all while being a dapper mofo 👍

TRIVIA

isn’t ashamed of her bionic arm; if anything, she’s damn proud of it. does make an effort to cover it up when leaving the ship, otherwise it’s totally fine if you choose to comment on it.

boasts impressive ability/stamina/flexibility due to her time on the streets + on the run. say something about it and she’ll claim it comes in handy for “other things”. 

possesses a high pain tolerance from the various injuries she’s accumulated over the years. i wouldn’t go as far as saying she’s a masochist but — she might just be idk.

if you’re interested in a new drinking game, take a shot for every person she’s taken down. passing out guaranteed.

she doesn’t hide her talents with weapons/thievery, but will be vague about where she picked up said talents. the responses change every time. 

kantarra, soaked in blood and casually stepping onboard: sup fam. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

the bad influence: let her corrupt you in the most entertaining and memorable way possible. of course, she’ll probably leave you high and dry when/if things go to shit, but at least you’ll have some fun on the way there, hm?

the dream team: gimme me a group of pals who get up to all kinds of shenanigans. like yeah, she’s a terrible person but she’s got some interesting drinking games to make up for it though!

the flashback: another kessel kid who recognises her from the streets? she’d be caught between “omg it’s you!” to “oh fuck it’s you”. stress levels would skyrocket knowing someone could ruin her plans :’) 

the chase: someone who are curious to find out who she is??? investigate her shady ass, please and thank you. a cat and mouse chase to give her some entertainment in the meantime.

“didn’t you steal something from me back then???” “yeah life’s not fair, what can you do” 

pls hmu for brainstorming ily 

[soukcku]

Dazai finds Chuuya long before Mori or the Mafia or the SO Division know of him. He knows of Chuuya because when he wanders the city to get away from Mori, he comes across street kids fighting each other. Stops to watch, because the matches are fierce, and people get hurt. He loves how alive the fighters look, and he loves blending in with crowds of bloodthirsty children. 

He sees Chuuya before the others do; for some, it’s easy to overlook a small redhead in unassuming clothes. But Dazai watches him. Watches the power and confidence in Chuuya’s stride. The way the air shifts subtly around him, how people part for him without realizing what they’re doing. 

The first time Chuuya fights, Dazai bets on him. Foolishly, as it turns out; whatever power Chuuya has, he doesn’t use it, and loses quickly. The young girl taking bets laughs at Dazai, and he doesn’t blame her. 

The second time, Dazai bets against Chuuya. And Chuuya wins. He’s been practicing, Dazai thinks. He’s more force of nature than skill, but he makes it work. He makes it look easy. 

Dazai can’t come back to the rings for a few weeks, but when he returns, Chuuya’s established himself well. He’s got his own ring of supporters, and haters as well. And these days everyone bets on him, because there’s no chance at all that he’ll lose. When Dazai places his money on Chuuya’s opponents, the girl taking the bets laughs at him again. 

Chuuya wins. 

He keeps winning. 

Dazai bets against him every time. He loses money—quite a lot, and he keeps wondering when Mori will ask where it’s going. He doesn’t really have an answer. What he knows is that he loves the look in the eyes of the losers when they realize how hopeless their endeavor is; some of them keep fighting. Many simply give up. Chuuya continues to be a storm of perfect destruction, no subtlety but all grace. 

When Chuuya thrashes someone twice his age and weight into a pulp and walks away untouched and unaffected, Dazai follows him. 

Through the streets, past rundown houses. Into an alleyway that’s a dead end, and Chuuya says, without turning, “What do you want?” 

“I want to teach you how to use your powers.” Dazai has been thinking about this for days, now. 

Chuuya snorts. “I already know, and even if I didn’t, why would I need your help? In case you haven’t noticed, I won every time.” 

“Every time,” Dazai says steadily. “But the first.” 

Chuuya’s shoulders tense, and he turns around slowly. His eyes are large, blue like someone’s put the summer sky into them. Blue like the sea. Dazai’s never seen anything like it. “Only because I didn’t use my powers that time.” 

“Exactly,” Dazai replies. Waits for what he’s saying to sink in. 

It does, faster than he thought it would. “What could someone like you teach me?” 

“How to fight against other ability users. How to win against them.” Dazai’s painfully aware he doesn’t look like much, that he doesn’t seem to be in a position to make claims like this. Chuuya arrives at the same conclusion. 

He laughs. Dazai doesn’t blame him, but he’s a little tired of being laughed at. He’s walking forward before he can think about it, two quick strides forward. A hand against Chuuya’s chest, pushing him into the wall. “Never let anyone corner you,” he says. Dazai feels the subtle shift in the air that means that Chuuya’s trying to use his powers, and smiles grimly. “Won’t work, sorry.”

“How—” His eyes widen. “Are you one too? Is that why my ability doesn’t work on you?” 

Dazai nods, stepping back a little. “I’m a dead end.” 

“A dead end, huh?” He stares Dazai down. “Yeah, no. Nothing seems to work. How do you do that?” 

“I don’t,” Dazai says apologetically. “It’s just me, I’m afraid.” 

“You can’t turn it off?” 

“Nope.” 

“Why do you want to teach me?” Chuuya asks astutely. “What’s in it for you? Who are you working for?” 

“I work for the Mafia, but frankly I’m just bored.” 

Chuuya shakes his head. “That sounds like such a lie it can’t possibly be one.” 

Dazai shrugs. “I don’t care if you believe me.” 

“Good,” Chuuya replies. “Cause I most definitely don’t. But I’d like to learn how to fight, and even if you can’t teach me I bet you know someone who can, eh? You look like the kinda guy that walks around knowing names. Where do I meet you?” 

“I know a place,” Dazai says carefully. But it’s hard to keep his elation out of his voice, hard to suppress the way his chest burns with something almost like excitement. It’s not just the prospect of training someone like Chuuya—even the idea of spending time in the company of someone who wouldn’t kill him right away, given the chance, is exhilarating. “Tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow,” Chuuya agrees. “I’ll meet you here.”

—insp

[cvrsedrose]

* . ˚ * ✦ 　　· tag  dump  !!

* . ˚ *   study   ∫   she  is  darkness  down  to  her  core  :  cassana. * . ˚ *   study   ∫   she  is  hellfire  raising  from  her  soul  :  headcanons. * . ˚ *   study   ∫   to  graze  among  roses  it  was  never  enough  :  general.

# .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   pretty rose vines are just as lovely when they shatter your bones  :  aesthetic. # .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   i  send  a  pestilence  and  plague  :  isms. # .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   in the underworld she reigns supreme  :  abilities. # .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   goddamn right you should be scared of me  :  memes. # .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   chill it's only chaos  :  musings # .・゜゜・   inspo     ∫   you should see me in a crown  :  closet.

#* . ✵  * ·   visage     ∫   my touch is black and poisonous  :  faceclaim. * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   margaery * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   olenna * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   garlan * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   mace * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   alerie * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   loras * . ✵  * ·   ch  :   willas

[nibenhutracycas]

Have some John Tracy x OC fluff because I can.

Insp [x]

Nibs was one of the few, an inhuman, gifted, whatever you wanted to call it. Her power was unique, as all inhumans seemed to be. Some thought she had two powers, both linked to the other. Nibs just thought it was all the same. She could feel when positive and negative emotions, or at least when people were feeling them, she was never sure quite what the emotions were. She just knew that the more intense the positivity or negativity, the more they either liked or hated her. This seemed to fuel the other thing she could do. Make explosions. She could pick up something like say a rock, and somehow make it unstable enough that when she threw it, it became a grenade and exploded. The more positivity that was around her, the bigger the explosion could be.

Nibs always thought that part of the reason the GDF had practically forced her to join, wasn’t just because of her father, which was also part of the reason why Timothy had left, she wished, partly, that she had gone with him, that she had had the strength to say no, but also because of her abilities. She should have hid them better, not shown off. Timothy had warned her. But she had thought she could have trusted her own father.

When she had first met John, she hadn’t known how he had felt about her, he was on a space station after all, and Nibs needed to have the person physically lose in order to get a ‘reading’ from them. John seemed nice enough though. Nice enough for Nibs to fall completely for him, damn it.

Then one day, she met him, in person. It was a GDF charity ball. Nibs was in a golden gown, glass of champagne in hand, when she saw him. White tuxedo, looking incredibly nervous and wanting to be anywhere but there in that moment, like, say, back in his space station. A blonde lady was by his side, who Nibs recognised as Lady Penelope. She wondered if they were together or if Lady Penelope had just dragged him down for the evening. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and John had never liked to talk about it.

John spotted her and waved, a small nervous smile coming onto his face. Nibs smiled and waved back. John made to come over, but was instantly stopped by a gaggle of women, all cooing over him. Nibs had to turn away before she started laughing.

The party went on for what seemed like ages, but in reality it had only been a few hours. The vibes ebbed and flowed, mostly positive, but from time to time she would walk by someone and get negative. Negative always made her feel a bit queasy and drained. Nibs decided to try and get a moment of peace, and stepped outside, where the vibes lessened.

Nibs closed her eyes, feeling the vibes coarse through her veins and through her body. That’s when she felt it, more powerful then it had ever been before. It felt hot, a good warmth flowing all through her body and to the tips of her extremities. She opened her eyes, giving a little gasp at the same moment a hand touched her shoulder, the feeling stronger where skin met skin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” Came a familiar voice, sounding slightly worried that he might have just given her  heart attack. Nibs grinned has she turned to face John. “It’s ok, I’m glad to see you.” John smiled down at her, which then turned to a grimace as a shrill female voice called out to him. “Please hide me…”

Nibs bit her lip to stop from laughing, taking his hand as she led him away.

[gurguliare]

Ok I’m typing up the entire story of Cao Cao’s Feud At Yang Xiu because... I love it. That’s why. Mostly for my own reference, may be of use to any NIF fic writers who want #insp for #waystokilloffmeichangsu

As his troops moved through Tong Pass, Cao Cao sighted a flourishing wood in the distance. “What place is that?” he asked an attendant. “Indigo Field,” was the reply. “Cai Yong’s manor is somewhere in there. His daughter Yan and her husband, Dong Si, occupy it now.” Cao Cao had always been on good terms with Cai Yong. In earlier days his daughter Yan had been the wife of Wei Zhongdao. Later, she was taken captive by the northern tribes and bore two sons while among them. Her poems, “Eighteen Tunes for Foreign Flute,” circulated in northern China. Cao Cao himself sympathized with her and had someone ransom her for one thousand ounces of gold. The Xiongnu chief, worthy king of the Left, fearful of Cao’s power, sent Cai Yan back to the land of Han, and Cao Cao gave her in marriage to Dong Si.

Standing before the manor, Cao Cao was reminded of the Cai Yong incident. He ordered his army to go on ahead while he dismounted, accompanied by a hundred guards. Dong Si had left to take up an official post; Cai Yan was at home. She rushed to welcome the visitor. When Cao reached the upper hall, Cai Yan stood to one side after completing the customary ritual reception. Cao Cao happened to notice a stone rubbing and went over to examine the text. He questioned Cai Yan about it.

“It’s taken from the tablet of Cao E,” she explained to him. “During the time of Emperor He in Shangyu there was a shaman named Cao Xu whose whirling dances could have entertained the gods. On the fifth day of the fifth month, while performing on a boat, he fell, drunk, into the river and drowned. His daughter, fourteen at the time, went along the river weeping and wailing for seven days and seven nights, then jumped to her death herself. Five days later she surfaced bearing her father’s body. The local folk buried them beside the water. Du Shang, prefect of Shangyu, notified the court and hailed the daughter’s filial devotion. The prefect had Handan Chun compose this text to mark the event and then had it inscribed on the tablet. Though Handan Chun was only thirteen at the time, he wrote it in one sitting without revising. His monument was set beside the grave and attracted great interest.

“My father, Cai Yong, went to look at it. The sun had already set that day, but he was able to feel the characters in the darkness with his hands. Then he found a brush and wrote eight large characters on the back of the stone. An engraver who recut the stone also cut these eight words.” Cao Cao read the words: “Yellow spun silk --- a young woman; a distaff grandchild --- mortar and pestle.”

“Can you explain this?” Cao asked Cai Yan. “Though it’s by my own father, I’m afraid I cannot,” she replied. Cao turned to his counselors and repeated his request. But none of them could unriddle it, either. Then Yang Xiu, his first secretary, stepped forward and offered to interpret the writing, but Cao Cao asked for more time to think about it. He bid Cai Yan good-bye and left the manor with his retinue.

Cao Cao had ridden three li when the answer came to him. Laughing, he said to Yang Xiu, “Now, try and explain it.”

“It is a cryptic saying,” Yang Xiu began. “Yellow silk is colored silk; and the graph silk (丝) beside the graph color (色) makes the graph superb (绝). A young woman is a junior miss; and junior (少) beside miss (女) makes the graph exquisite (妙). A distaff grandchild is a daughter’s son; and daughter (女) beside son (子) makes the graph excellent (好). Mortar and pestle are tools that can be held to crush the five spicy herbs; and hold (受) beside spicy (辛) forms the graph words (辭). In short, we have four words, ‘superbly exquisite, excellent words.’” Cao Cao was amazed and said, “Exactly my own thought!” Everyone present sighed in admiration at Yang Xiu’s quick mind.

---ONE FULL CHAPTER OF UNRELATED INCIDENT LATER---

...Cao Cao held his forces at the gorge for many days, unable to advance for fear of Ma Chao, unwilling to retreat for fear of exciting the scorn of the western army. Cao Cao was in a state of indecision. At this moment the chief cook brought in chicken broth for Cao Cao, who noticed pieces of ribs in the bowl. The sight gave rise to a thought. As he was musing, Xiahou Dun entered his tent to ask what the password would be that night. “Chicken ribs. Chicken ribs,” Cao replied unthinkingly. Xiahou Dun passed the information to the officers. First Secretary Yang Xiu heard the words and instructed the soldiers assigned to him to pack up and prepare for the journey home. This was reported to Xiahou Dun, who in amazement invited Yang Xiu to his tent and asked why he was preparing to leave. Yang Xiu replied, “I knew by the night signal that the king of Wei would be returning in a few days. You see, chicken ribs have no meat on them, yet one relishes them for the flavor. If we advance, we cannot prevail. Retreat will earn us men’s contempt. There’s no advantage either way, so a quick return home is the best choice. Tomorrow His Highness will order us home to the capital; I thought I’d better put my things in order and avoid a last-minute rush.”

“How well you know His Lordship’s innermost thoughts,” Xiahou Dun said and began arranging his own affairs. Soon all the commanders had begun to do the same.

During the night Cao Cao, agitated and unable to sleep, armed himself and made a private tour of the camp. He was astonished to find Xiahou Dun’s men packing up and summoned Dun for an explanation. Dun told him that First Secretary Yang had anticipated Cao’s wish to return. Next, Cao Cao summoned Yang Xiu, who attributed his interpretation to the chicken ribs. Cao Cao was enraged and said, “You dare concoct statements like this and ruin my men’s morale!” He shouted for his guards to remove and execute the secretary and to post his head at the main gate as a warning to all.

Now Secretary Yang Xiu --- a free spirit who presumed on his talent --- had crossed Cao Cao more than once. One time, Cao Cao had a garden built. When it was ready, he went to inspect it. Without uttering a word of praise or blame, Cao Cao took a brush and wrote a single word, “Alive,” on the gate to the garden, then departed. No one could interpret what this meant, but Yang Xiu said, “The graph alive (活) inside the graph gate (门) makes the graph broad (阔). His Excellency was simply saying that the gate is too wide.” The result was that the workmen rebuilt the surrounding wall, thus changing it to suit their lord. They then invited him to make another visit. Cao Cao came and was delighted. “Who guessed my meaning?” he asked. “Yang Xiu,” they all responded; Cao Cao, though he voiced his admiration, secretly resented the man. Another time, a box of kumiss was sent to Cao Cao from north of the border. Cao Cao wrote three words on the box, “One box cream (一合酥),” and placed it in his cabinet. When Yang Xiu entered and happened to see it, he opened the cabinet and distributed the treat. Cao Cao later asked him why had done it, and Yang Xiu replied, “You wrote quite plainly on the box, ‘per man, one mouthful cream (一人一口酥).’ How could I deviate from Your Excellency’s command?” [Ed. note: ‘mouthful’ = 一口, lit. ‘one mouth.’ 人一口 an uncalled-for deconstruction of 合, which my mother claims might be better translated as “family size.”] Cao Cao smiled with pleasure at the play on words, but in his heart he felt hatred.

Cao Cao lived with a constant fear of assassination and was forever warning his attendants: “I like to kill people in my dreams, so when I fall asleep, be sure not to come too close.” Once while napping during the day, his blanket slipped to the ground and a guard hastened to cover him again. But Cao Cao leaped up, drew his sword and slew the man, then went back to sleep. When he arose a little later, he feigned surprise and said, “Who has killed my man?” When the other attendants told him the truth, he wept sorely and ordered a funeral with full honors. Everyone believed that he had done the killing in his dream --- except Yang Xiu, who had read Cao Cao’s mind. At the time of the burial Yang Xiu pointed at the dead man and said, “His Excellency was not dreaming; only you were!” These words were reported to Cao Cao, whose hatred of Yang Xiu only increased.

Cao Cao’s third son, Zhi, was a great admirer of Yang Xiu’s ability and often had him over for discussions which lasted all night. When Cao Cao had proposed naming Cao Zhi his heir apparent, Cao Pi, the eldest, secretly requested the elder of Zhaoge, Wu Zhi, to come and advise him. To prevent detection, he had Wu Zhi brought in a large box made to hold bolts of silk. Yang Xiu found out the truth, however, and reported it directly to Cao Cao, who put Cao Pi’s quarters under surveillance. Pi nervously informed Wu Zhi, who advised Pi to bring in another container with real bolts of silk to deceive the investigators. Cao Pi did so the next day, and after searching, Cao Cao’s men had to report that silk was all they had found. Cao Cao therefore came to believe that Yang Xiu had intended harm to Cao Pi and hated him the more for it.

Cao Cao then decided to put Cao Pi and Cao Zhi to a test. One day he asked his two sons to appear outside the city gate of Ye, but he told the guards not to let them out. Cao Pi arrived first and was turned back. Cao Zhi heard what had happened at the gate and asked Yang Xiu about it. “When you go forth on the king’s command,” Xiu said, “it is appropriate to cut down anyone who tries to stop you.” Cao Zhi thought this right. And so when he was stopped at the gate, he cried out, “I bear a royal command. Who dares prevent me?” and immediately had the guard cut down. The result was that Cao Cao regarded Zhi as the more capable. Later, however, he was told that Yang Xiu had coached Cao Zhi; he became so angry that he subsequently lost his preference for Cao Zhi.

Yang Xiu had prepared a special primer on state affairs for Cao Zhi’s use. As a result, whenever Cao Cao posed questions about state affairs, Zhi responded so eloquently that Cao Cao eventually became suspicious. Later, Cao Pi bribed a few of Zhi’s followers, who secretly showed Cao Cao the special primer. In a fury Cao Cao said, “How dare this fellow make a fool of me!” It was at this time that he conceived of the idea of killing Yang Xiu. Now, using the “chicken ribs” incident as his pretext, he carried it out. Yang Xiu was thirty-four years old.

[and postscript]

Suddenly a body of men came straight at Cao Cao. The leader shouted, “Wei Yan, here!” He took his bow and fitted an arrow to the string; the shot struck Cao Cao, who tumbled to the ground. Dropping his bow and raising his sword, Wei Yan charged up the slope to kill Cao Cao. But a general cut athwart him, shouting, “Don’t touch our lord!” It was Pang De. With a burst of energy De advanced, drove Wei Yan off, and protected Cao Cao. Ma Chao had already retreated, and so Cao Cao was brought safely back to camp.

Wei Yan’s bolt had struck Cao Cao’s upper lip, knocking out his two front teeth. A physician was called, and while being treated, Cao Cao remembered what Yang Xiu had said about marching home. He had the scholar’s body recovered and given an honorable burial.

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Voiceless pt. 1

Summary: (Reader Insert) Reader is a mutant/inhuman with a powerful voice (works a little like a banshee / a little like a siren). She's had it a little rough since discovering her powers. She is found and taken in by Tony Stark and the remaining Avengers after the events of Civil War

(insp by “Dangerous” by Shinedown)

Word Count: 1306 

Warnings: Swearing, Typos (sorry), mentions of kidnapping and abuse

A/N: I’m not 100% sure what the pairing is on this one yet but there is some serious Dad!/Big Brother!Tony happening.

A giant “Thank you” to @17sullivan who read my idea for this pic, then read this chapter and is an all around wonderful person. Thank you for the push love!

Voiceless Masterlist

When what was left of the Avengers found you,  you were fairly certain that they were there to take you into custody, but they quickly became your family; a strange and dysfunctional family it may have been, but it was yours.

...

You’d been in a few tight spots before, but this was the worst by far. You’d been just off of a double shift at the latest crappy diner job you’d landed; it was hard to get a well-paying job when you only held a high school diploma after all. You feet were killing you and you were massively cranky, and you still had a long walk in the dark before you got home. But when you heard the whimper, you turned your head, scanning the street around you looking for the source. It had sounded like a child, but it was after one o’clock in the morning, there shouldn’t have been any kids anywhere near the diner. The whimper came again, a little quieter, but sounding pained. As quietly as you could, you edged towards the mouth of the alley behind the diner. Pressing your back to the wall, you poked your head around the corner, almost instantly yanking it back. There was a large man searching around the alley, he was partially hunched over and speaking in low tones, if he was looking for the source of the sound, he hadn’t found it yet. You peeked around the corner again and something in his hand caught the light, a gun. You quickly swung your head back around the corner and your heartbeat began to race.

“Leave me alone” a small voice cried out. Your eyes widened and you inhaled sharply as the man responded too quietly for you to hear, but you did hear a sharp slap and a cry of pain.

You don’t remember making a conscious decision to step into the alley, but suddenly you were there.

“You heard the kid, leave ‘em alone,” your voice was steady, not betraying the fear you felt.

“This doesnt concern you lady, back the fuck off,” the man spat at you. Now you could see the child; a little boy, maybe 6 years old. The thug had a tight grip on his upper arm and was dragging him out from behind the dumpster. The boy was struggling to free himself and the man looked back down to him and shook him roughly. The boy whimpered again.

“Let the kid go,” you ordered calmly, “let him go, and walk away. You’re not gonna like what happens if you don’t.”

The man laughed in your face, clearly not believing you could follow through on your threat. You looked to the boy and met his gaze, you nodded at him once before looking back to the man.

You walked towards the man slowly, and as you did, you began to sing. With your powers, it didn’t matter what you sang, as long as you sang, you had control of your target. For a moment, the man looked confused, he squinted and tilted his head, but then he was out of control. You could see his eyes glaze over as you took over, and within seconds, he had released the boy, you pulled the child behind you and sang a little more, pushing the man into unconsciousness. As his head hit the ground, you turned to the boy and knelt in front of him, he had a mark on his cheek from the slap and his sleeve was ripped from the man’s grip; he looked both underfed and exhausted.

“Are you okay?” The boy didn’t respond, he was staring at the man’s body, shaking. You tried again to get his attention, but he seemed to be in shock. You didn’t want to touch the boy  to get his attention for fear of frightening him but what else could you do? Biting you lip, you started to hum, you chose to hum a lullaby, soft and sweet, not enough to really control him, just enough to give you the ability to calm him down enough that he could talk to you.

Once you got him calm, he told you that he had been taken from him mom, he didn’t know how long he’d been gone, but he told you that he had tried to run and the man chased him. He started to cry as he told you he just wanted to go home, he wanted to see his mom. You wrapped your arms around him and started to hum again. You picked him up, he weighed very little you noticed, and you started to walk to the nearest police station.

As soon as you were sure the boy was safe, you turned and left. You knew there would be questions, questions that you would have an awfully hard time answering, so you chose to leave, hoping that no one would come looking for you, after all the boy was safe now.

You had left just before the little boy, now ensconced in a swivel chair, with a cookie in his hands, explained to the officers surrounding him, that the magic lady sang the bad man to sleep.

...

Tony Stark had just flown in your window, shocking enough really even before you considered the fact that your window was rather tiny.

“Um… Hi there…” you stuttered, blinking as you froze, your coffee cup halfway to your lips and your fuzzy slippers propped up on your beat up milk crate/table.

“Hey,” He said, popping his helmet open and smiling at you, “you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“Depends, why are you asking?” you hedged, putting down your mug and pulling yourself into a standing position.

“I’m taking that as a yes then,” he nodded before speaking into what you assumed was a com, “found her.”

“So, should I be running away now? You coming to take me in for something? What is it I’m supposed to have done exactly?” You were slowly inching yourself away from Tony Stark, with the pathetic hope that you could somehow escape if you needed to, when a man with red, metal looking skin and a cape phased through the wall next to you. You squeaked and backed away, quickly this time.

“Maybe should have come through the door Vison,” Tony snarked at the man in a cape.

“I had assumed that you had informed Miss. Y/L/N of the situation, therefore I would not have alarmed her,” the android responded evenly.

“Nope. Nope I am severely under-informed. Not informed at all. Very alarmed now,” you panted.

“Ok, ok,” Tony placated, stepping out of the Ironman suit with an arm outstretched towards you, “Sorry, we’re just here to talk. No arresting, not gonna hurt you, just wanna chat.”

“Couldn’t have called first huh?” you sassed, a hand clutching your chest as you slowed your breathing.

Tony smiled at that as you took a deep breath. He had you sit back down on your beat up couch as he explained why they were there. They had heard about you from police reports, not just the most recent one, although that had helped them track you down. They’d pieced together stories about you and about your abilities. They wanted to help, and asked your help in return. Tony Stark was asking you to join the Avengers. That thought took a solid few minutes to process as you stared at him.

“So, I mean, you’d have to move out of here,” Tony said, motioning to your apartment, “but, I think you’ll like the compound.”

You looked up to meet his slightly smug, lopsided smile as he asked, “What do ya say? Wanna be an Avenger?” You laughed lightly, glancing back at Vision before returning your gaze to Tony’s,

“When do we leave?”