#THE DAGGER WAS MEANT TO PROTECT MORGAN

[ellie-the-awesome-11]

so I listened to the new episode

[kryscent]

tsuki no hikari ☆ 1

pairings: opla!zoro x gn!reader

wc: 5.3k

content briefing: slow slowburn. canon typical violence (description and dialogue). the east blue saga. lore heavy!reader. multi-chaptered work so expect fluff, angst and suggestive content ahead. alternating povs. the reader used to go by the name hikari but is not an oc (i promise its for the plot)

synopsis: a vigilante of sorts, you roamed the east blue without any particular aim, until one odd mission pulls you back into a part of your life you'd almost left behind, meeting someone you'd almost forgotten.

teaser | next

Your hand clenches around the hilt of your sword, the scabbards of the two blades at your hip clacking together as you disembark the weak sloop, boots splashing onto the shoals. 

Lifting the duffle carrying your bow and quiver onto your shoulder and tightening your dagger around your opposite arm, your eyes take in the havoc wreaked upon the town in front of you. 

Late, your conscience gripes, you’re late. 

You’d gotten word on your den den mushi ear-piece from your informant, while resting in an inn on the suburbs of Shells Town - news on the streets said the Buggy Pirates were besieging raids across the Organ Islands, shortly after the embarrassing defeat of Axe-Hand Morgan. (Admittedly letting out a chuckle, seeing as to how you’d arrived to uncover the inconsistencies of pirate capture-defeat reports from the 153rd branch. The work was cut out easier for you with him out of commission for a day or so, though unfortunately, the safe you’d been looking for was missing.) 

You didn’t, however, expect to come upon Orange Town in ruins, seeming devastatingly uninhabited. Wind blows through the wreckage, howling eerily through the empty walls, caved-in roofs billowing dust as they collapse further at the prodding of the gust. 

Raids would infer looting - stealing of goods, valuables and treasures by corrupt pirates from nondescript towns and villages; or on the latter side, the kidnapping of “useful” village folk, holding hostages. But this is Captain Buggy you’re talking about - any inference may as well be considered useless, scattered to the four seas, when it comes to his maniacal tendencies. You'd heard enough about the famed clown pirate, mostly from Shanks, and you’d felt bad for the man he’d described, at your young age.  

You trudge further into the town, lifting fallen slats to check for injured townspeople or wounded animals trapped under, head tilting curiously at the lack of any sign of life, aside from the telltale odour of rotting food. 

You’re considered a vigilante of sorts by the people living in the villages you protect and liberate; the name ‘Hikari’, said with their heartfelt gratitude and respect, was your only identifiable – memorable – feature, aside from the painted kitsune mask covering your face. Utmost importance was given to the safety and wellbeing of the people you fight for – which meant fighting against bad pirates and bad Marines alike. 

It was a given you left Shells Town immediately on hearing of the altercation, and your mind swims with possible reasons for the absence of life – perhaps they fled? Your questions are answered in part, your brows meeting as they furrow at the sight in front of you. 

A red, white and blue striped circus tent, fitting to Buggy’s colour scheme, rose up in the centre of the debris, applause and hollering permeating the fabric to reach your ears. As you make your way to the tent, the air cracks to a dull thud, later followed by the sound of loud, running water (high pressure, through a pipe?), and you break into a sprint, skirting far around its circumference to enter without getting yourself killed by surely armed guards. 

All sounds suddenly quiet, right as the wind flaps at the bottom of the tent. Lotto. You make your way to it, leaving your bag at the opening while muttering a prayer to the seas that no one will halt your entry. Crawling under, mask pushing to the side of your face in the midst of your efforts, you stop in your tracks as a man falls limply to the ground from an impressively built arm, strangulated. You quickly get to your feet as a pretty, orange-haired girl, who you assume was in the dangling cage that rocked back and forth behind her, cuts through the rope fastening his other arm with a kunai thrown by the serpent looking man at her feet. She pays you no mind, seeing as to how you haven’t said anything or attacked them yet; gathering her weapons from where they were stored away, you catch sight of striking blue eyes in the mirror. 

Your eyes meet the gaze of the man on the murder-pseudo-wheel of fortune, as he steps off and shakes out his shoulders, levelling you with a scrutinising stare, cocking a straight green brow, matching the cropped hair on his head, a set of three earrings glinting on his left ear. Handsome, you think, eyes darting over his face appraisingly. Warm but hardened chestnut eyes, full lips, broad shoulders and a honed figure. Blinking away the thought, you dart out to the arena stage, leaving the bemused pair behind. 

The lights are dim, with only a few azure spotlights on, making it hard to see very far. Coincidentally, you end up right at what looks like a throne. Buggy’s throne. Funny enough, no guard is stationed here – considering he probably didn’t want to share his spotlight. 

Your gaze trains to your side, observing the desperate stares of the villagers, wide-eyed and cheeks stained with tear-tracks and soot. Your eyes flick to their feet; chains. Oppressed. You decide you despise him, with every fibre of your being, any remaining pity or sympathy rinsed clean with the tears of the villagers he’s shackled to the benches of his circus. 

You’re right in his line of sight, from where he’s mocking a boy in a tank filled with what looks like seawater, cackling wildly in seeming joy, muttering about a “devil fruit”. You throw your dagger, landing right between his fingers on the glass, with deathly precision. 

‘Hey Bungy, you get off on torturing kids?’ you say sharply, chin high and voice faux pitiful, creating enough of a diversion as the glass cracks from your throw, and the ginger girl from earlier unclasps her bo staff and pitches it right at the spot over your dagger. (Hm. Assistance wouldn't hurt, especially if they're on the good side) The clown’s head is turned to you, howling “It’s Buggy!” before he twists his neck in alarm at the dual damage to the material. 

‘Where are my freaks?!’ he shrieks, looking around frantically, before his eyes latch onto the green-haired swordsman across. Three swords, you note, cocking your head curiously. His eyes are sharp, focused on the clown from under the bandanna covering his mossy hair, his reply clipped. ‘They’re not coming,’ his voice is gravelly, tone threatening danger. 

The tank before you fractures before shattering completely, a small tidal wave flushing the imprisoned boy and the fool to the ends of the stage. You stand by, a single sword drawn, stony expression twitching slightly in disgust as the boy regurgitates what looks like an impossibly long cylinder, coughing out the water he’d swallowed. Your gaze travels to his head of wet curls, a familiar curved scar under his left eye… Your eyes widen slightly as he drags himself across the ground, reaching for a distinct straw hat. 

‘Luffy?’ you whisper in shock, short breath leaving you in the form of a gasp. ‘You know him?’ comes a voice from your right – you turn to face her, the girl with the bo staff, swirling it in her palm before bringing it to rest at the small of her back. ‘Nami,’ she offers, by way of introducing herself, relaxing slightly at your recognition of the boy, and you return it with a nod, followed by your own name in exchange.  

‘My map,’ Buggy musters, voice weak, though his eyes light up disturbingly, grin growing slowly, the same time as Luffy splays out his hand, groaning. ‘My hat.’

‘Yeah, I do. Who’s greenie?’ you answer, nodding your chin at the swordsman approaching the harlequin menacingly, before slashing at him in clean strikes with two swords drawn. It’s to no avail, as he uses his obvious devil fruit to divide himself into pieces, to predict and dodge every slash. ‘Zoro, he’s harmless,’ she murmurs, dripping sarcasm, lifting a hand to gesture for you to follow her as her eyes betray her remaining scepticism towards you, leading you slowly behind the swordsman. Ah, Zoro.

‘Surprise, shithead!’ the clown cackles psychotically when he starts detaching and propelling his appendages around till all that remains upright is his head, as the both of you flank either side of Zoro. Your brows furrow, nauseated at the display as your eyes follow his head, shifting to stand with your back to the both of your temporary allies, a rough triangular defence. You push your sword out to cut into fast-coming blows, redirecting them away from you. 

‘How am I s’pposed to slice a guy who’s already in pieces?’ Zoro comments, you presume to Nami, as the three of you shuffle around in slow circles, trying to keep up with his spinning. ‘This was not part of the plan!’ she calls back, exasperated as the three of you branch out to attack a body part each. 

‘You had a plan?’ you call back, slashing at what looks like a chunk of his torso, receiving a grunt in response from Zoro. Clearly, the two of you are not doing any damage, most done probably by Nami and her staff, striking each part flying around with blunt force. You switch your method to pummel his body with the hilts of your swords, knocking them away. Your stomach lurches when the fleshy (gross) missiles change their focus from being some kind of disturbing display of power, to targeting the three of you individually. 

You draw your second blade, deflecting the foot that comes flying to kick at your chest with unexpected potency, caught off-guard at the impact. You let out a strangled heave when a hand swerves past your crossed swords, clasping tightly around your neck to choke you for a minute, your swords carefully slashing at his wrist as much as you could manage without hurting yourself. He uses the sudden upper-hand to push you back, feet dragging, to throw you harshly onto the ground at the feet of the manacled audience, who gasp loudly, whatever breath remained in your lungs knocked out of you at the impetus. Your mask shatters, cracked fragments lying beside your face, ribbon torn. 

Zoro and Nami are no better – as he’s pushed, toppling over the tank that shatters with his fall, and she’s shoved tripping over a low stage stool, tumbling onto her back. 

You watch in horror, a hand dropping your sword to grasp at your throat, inhaling copious amounts of air, as his body reattaches itself, hovering in front of Luffy, before touching down onto his feet. 

‘Would you look at that?’ he asks, voice feigning playfulness, not bothering to disguise the scorn beneath. Luffy, holding his hat to his chest, getting up slowly with his back against the wooden pole at the edge of the stage, straightening himself. 

‘Somebody escaped my Tank of Doom,’ he continues, a single finger raised drawing circles in the air, taunting. ‘Well I’ll be back to finish you off–,’ his voice quietens before raising to a gruff yell, ‘–right after I tear apart your sorry excuse of a crew!’ He breaks into another peal of guffaws, with a horror befitting for a clown of his stature. 

You exhale sharply, grabbing your sword again and using it to stab into the sandy grounds, rising to your feet before placing your viridian hilted sword back in its sheath. You hold a hand out to Nami, sensing Zoro getting to his feet in your peripheral. She takes your hand, grasp warm, righting herself.

‘You can dump seawater on me–,’ your eyes shoot up as Luffy responds for the first time since this freakish battle had begun. ‘–and I’ll let it slide,’ he starts, pressing his hat back onto the crown of his head, before stepping forward, voice dipping into ire. ‘But don’t you ever threaten my friends.’ He rolls back his shoulder, palm pressed to it, preparing to punch as his arm stretches back for a few metres, before launching forward to slam into Buggy’s abdomen. A cylindrical, punch shaped piece flies out with the impact, and back into his stomach. You try not to gag at the absurd array. 

He winks at Luffy, before producing a set of eight knives, four on each hand, his tone a low whisper. ‘So you wish to die first?’ he hums. ‘Be my guest.’ 

He detaches his body with sickening pops before spinning them again like earlier, the blades adding more possibility of harm this time, bellowing, ‘Chop Chop, Cannon.’ 

All the parts go flying at Luffy as he vaults and catapults himself over all of them, avoiding the knives. He manages to tackle the clown to the floor, grappling for a moment until a fist comes flying at Luffy’s side. When he gets to his feet, another fisted dagger slices the hat right off his head and pins it onto the wood. As it drops, he runs to it but is tripped and pushed by multiple limbs, until a hand comes to choke him as Buggy chortles, much like you earlier. 

‘Nami,’ he croaks, stifled. ‘The crates!’

You run into the melee, ripping the fist off his neck and throwing it to her, as she bats it into a case, closing shut. 

Luffy looks up at his saviour, to him an unfamiliar addition to the fight, before you turn to him to help him up. His gaze falls to the sword at your hip, eyes widening in recognition at the hilt, the guard. Specifically, an almost exact replica of Shanks’ hilt and crossguard. The one given to…

‘Hikari?’ he asks loudly, surprise and disbelief a beaming mixture in his voice, knocking a stray limb in Nami’s direction so she can throw it into a chest. A smile stretches across his lips contagiously, and you can't help but smile gently with him, your heart warm with nostalgia at the familiar grin that was so very Luffy, before kicking a stray leg to Zoro, who stabs his swords through it to pin it to the ground as Buggy howls in pain. ‘Its [name] actually,’ you hum, twisting to continue the fight. He whoops in reply, the thrill at your arrival evident in his invigorated attacks, joy radiating off him in waves. You chuckle to yourself, he hasn't changed one bit. 

The four of you together knock as many parts of him that you can manage into crates, boxes and barrels, until all that’s left of him is a pair of hands and feet, and his head. Luffy gently picks his hat off the ground, holding it to his chest. 

‘What’ve you done to me?’ Buggy screeches, voice broken and grating to your ears. The curly haired boy simply grins in response. ‘Cut you down to size.’ 

‘The One Piece will never be yours! You’re just a sad–,’ the pathetic clown curls his hands into fists, searching for words ‘–lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!’ 

Luffy doesn’t look at him, staring down at his hat intently, a small smile on his lips. ‘I know exactly who I am.’ He places his hat back onto his head, before beaming, eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates.’ He settles into a crouched stance, throwing both arms behind him. ‘Gum Gum,’ he starts, as Buggy begins to frantically protest. ‘–Bazooka!’ His hands come stretched forward like a slingshot, wrists pressed together as they launch Buggy through the top of the tent, far into the stratosphere. 

He walks to where the map lies, picking it up before approaching the three of you. He hands the map to Nami as you adjust your swords and sheath them, picking your dagger up off the ground and placing it in the guard on your forearm. 

‘You’re giving this to me?’ her voice coloured in disbelief. Pulling the remaining ties of your mask from behind your ear, you raise a brow – her words presumably about something that happened before you arrived. You’re going to have to get a new one.  ‘You’re the navigator,’ he smiles. ‘Guys, this is [name]! Previously Hikari and one of my best friends!’ he gestures at you, hand spread in a showy fashion. You lift your own in a still wave as a greeting. 

Nami offers you a short smile, and your eyes shift to the man beside her, who nods at you. ‘’M Roronoa Zoro. You fight good,’ he acknowledges, prompting a small, amused uptick of your lips. So he does speak beyond primitive grunts and groans. ‘Thanks, you too.’ 

‘Let’s get out of this clown show,’ Zoro turns to leave, before Luffy stops him with a hand on his shoulder. ‘Not yet. Still one more thing we have to do.’ He lets go of his shoulder, smacking it in friendly camaraderie with a grin. 

The spotlights come back on when Luffy pulls one of the pins holding the villagers’ manacles in place. The four of you make an effort to pull the chains as gently but quickly as possible, and you’re in front of Zoro when an old white-haired man questions Luffy. ‘Are you our new captors?’ the man asks, clearly expecting the worst. Luffy looks confused, stopping his movements as he leans back onto his haunches, ‘What?’ 

‘Well, you’re pirates aren’t you?’ 

‘I’m a different kind of pirate,’ he declares, rising to his feet with a grin. You smile to yourself at his reply, looking up at the man across from you. He shakes his head, hiding a smirk of his own as he looks away. 

While you all make preparations to leave the island, you stop to speak to the villagers who come rushing to offer rations and supplies for your travels. The old man, who you learn is the mayor of Orange Town, Boodle, asks for a moment with you. 

‘I’ve heard of you, and seen your bounty poster on the notice board. I thought you were a pirate,’ he says, voice marvelled. You chuckle, patting his hand. ‘Fighting corrupt Marines earns you a wanted poster with your name on it, of course. I’m not a pirate yet, but the bounty increases the more dishonourable officers I take down,’ your expression lights up in memory. 

‘Right. Speaking of bounties,’ you reach into your duffel, a jute sack carrying one million berry from your last hunt. ‘Take this. For reparations and any other expenses to get your town back on its feet–,’ ‘–I cannot possibly accept this,’ he flounders, eyes wide at the bulging bag. 

You press the bag into his grasp, nodding with conviction. ‘Please do. I understand it may be difficult to accept, but as mayor, consider this an investment to the priority and welfare of your townspeople.’ 

He takes the bag, hesitant, before gripping your hand gently in gratitude. ‘Your kindness, and your crew’s, will remain in the memory of our town timelessly.’ You laugh at his determined statement, and go to correct him but you’re interrupted by the yipping of a small dog, pawing at your legs.

‘Chou Chou, no!’ A small girl comes running, scooping the pup into her arms. ‘I’m so sorry, he’s excited around new people.’ You reach out to ruffle her hair, then the dog’s back. ‘It’s alright. Chou Chou, you said?’ 

A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to look at the holder. Luffy smiles at you warmly, before his grip drops to your hand, pulling you aside, before tugging you into his arms. ‘I missed you,’ he mutters into your shirt, before looking up at you. ‘Of course you’re as kind as I remember,’ he says, smile proud as he holds onto your arms. You mess up his curls, eyes pushing into crescents. ‘Missed you too, kid,’ you grin, before wrestling him into a headlock. ‘You forget who’s older?’

He barks out a laugh, tapping out on your forearm, before facing you again. 

‘Join my crew,’ he says, voice shakily conveying calm, making a clear effort to not force you into something no matter how dearly he wants it.

‘When I finally become a pirate, I want you to be my quartermaster, so you’ll be by my side when I become King of the Pirates! That spot is for you, and mine as captain! And–,’ you interrupted the shorter boy with a giggle as he scowled at your teasing interruption. ‘That’s a funny word. Qua-ter-master. Who taught you that?’

‘Shanks did,’ he huffs indignantly. He shoves his hand at you, pinky outstretched. ‘So?’ 

‘Fine, I'll be your quartermaster, whatever that means. Promise,’ you concede, linking your finger with his. 

‘I believe I do have a promise to fulfil–,’ you glance away, fighting back a smile, squinting in the sunlight before looking back at him,‘–Captain.’ He shakes you by the shoulders, beaming like the sun behind him as you let out the laughs you’d been holding in, Luffy babbling loudly in joy about how ‘’You remembered!” and how he could count on you before he pulls you in for another bone crushing  hug. 

He calms down, if only slightly, to stare right into your eyes. ‘What is your dream?’ You shrug noncommittally, ‘I kind of already am well on my way to accomplishing that goal, by taking down terrible pirates and deplorable Marines myself. The dream is a world where their wrongdoing is no longer rampant,’ you slow, feeling the words in your mouth, a smile tugging at your lips, ‘–and I think being on the crew of the future King of the Pirates will get me there, don’t you think?’ 

His eyes light up, glinting in pride. ‘I will never let anything get in the way of your dream, and I will help you achieve it,’ he promises, offering his pinky much like he had years ago. ‘–as long as you do the same for me.’ 

You grin a half-smile, linking your fingers and shaking them once firmly. ‘Promise.’ 

Nodding at your small sloop, Zoro comes to stand behind Luffy just as you ask the boy, ‘Help me get my stuff?’ 

The tall man, who seems to be all brawn and no brain, grunts in response before walking to your boat, and you follow after him, amused. 

You lean forward to take some of the multiple bags of your supplies, food and water, but he doesn’t let you – he’s carried all of them over his shoulder and in both his hands before you can reach to hold them. 

‘I can–,’ ‘–t’s fine,’ he leans away from the hand you’ve put out to share some of the weight of your belongings, his voice low with exertion. You raise a shoulder in a shrug, leaving him to it. 

You push the boat far into the sandy shore, watching as the children and the puppy from earlier adorably run onto it immediately to play.

Boodle approaches the four of you this time, holding out a crate of as many scraps they managed to find after their plunder. ‘It’s not much, but take this…as a token of our gratitude,’ he holds it out to Luffy, who shakes his head gently, pushing it back to the old man. ‘You need it more than we do.’ With a firm nod, he bids them goodbye as the four of you walk out the small wooden dock to the boat.

You jump onto the deck of their ship, glancing at the book of maps lying near the helm, helping Nami untie the anchoring knots. She seems to be the evasive, cunning type, suspicious and wary of new people. You had a feeling Luffy only just got to know her, and earned most of her trust when he handed her that map. 

Wondering where the two men were, you turn to twist the other rope when you catch sight of Luffy jogging back down to where the mayor still stands with the tray, reaching for a piece of bread. ‘Maybe just a snack,’ he takes a big bite, before holding the rest in his mouth, waving as he runs back to the craft, Zoro in tow. You let out a sharp exhale, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. Same old.

The people wave, echoing ‘thank you’s and ‘goodbyes’ as you raise the sails, setting off. 

No matter how long you’d spent on the sea, nothing satisfies you more than the resounding whip of the sails catching the winds, pulling you further into the arms of the deep oceans, the salty spray trickling onto your arms like dewdrops. 

You lean against the wall beside Zoro, sat upright and getting some shut-eye, watching as Nami carefully stitches up Luffy’s precious hat and hands it back to him when he thanks her for fixing it. 

‘You said it was your treasure, right?’ she smiles at him, before getting up and walking to you. 

‘Pardon me if I’m wrong,’ you start, cocking a brow, ‘–but were you the ones who successfully pulled the rug from under Axe-Hand’s feet back in Shells Town?’ 

Nami pats the heavy safe beside her, smirking derisively before walking past you into the galley. ‘Stolen right from his office. It’s where we got the map.’ You look down to your side when the man you’d assumed to be asleep speaks. 

‘Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?’ he mutters, gruff with drowsiness. Luffy places his hat on the crown of his head, turning to face his crew with a smile. 

‘Shanks always said,’ he begins slowly, and you tilt your head, ‘–that if the path to what you want seems too easy…then you’re on the wrong path,’ he finishes, and you stare down at your feet, mind fond of the memory. Zoro squints, mulling over the words while looking out to the sea. ‘This Shanks guy seems alright,’ he says. You huff out a chuckle, and his head turns to look at you. 

Warm eyes, you think again, when he’s not in battle. The setting sun casts a glow against the high of his cheekbones, dipping into shadows at the sharp curve of his jaw. Unsafe thoughts, you slap yourself to your senses. ‘Next stop, the Grand Line!’ Luffy declares, pointing out to sea, bringing your thoughts to a halt. 

Settling down into the space beside Zoro, you open the heavy safe, pulling out and reading through the case files that you needed, beneath a bounty poster of Kuroo of the Black Cat Pirates. 

Flipping through the pages upon pages listing the pirate’s crimes, you speak offhandedly to the man beside you. ‘If you’re Roronoa Zoro,’ you nod towards the white-hilted sword leaning against the wall, ‘–that must be the famed Wado Ichimonji, isn’t it?’ 

His eyes snap open, turning to you. ‘How do you–,’ ‘I, too, trained at Shimotsuki Village,’ you face him, expression vacant. ‘Granted, the Wado on its own is a legendary sword, a prized heirloom of Shimotsuki Kozaburo, who forged it,’ you hum, glancing down, running a palm over the scabbard of your own sword, ‘–handed down to Shimotsuki Koushiro, who gave it to his daughter Kuina,’ you look up at him again, levelling him with a knowing stare from where he’s leaning away from you slightly, eyes narrowing a fraction. ‘It was then handed to you. Roronoa Zoro. I presume you protect it with your life.’ 

‘Who are you?’ he prods, sitting upright again, straightening his shoulders to feign confidence – distrust. You meet him head on, self-assured to return the qualm, ‘I’m [name],’ you introduce yourself for the second time, ‘–otherwise Hikari, former shinobi and scholar of the Shimotsuki region.’ 

‘How come I never met you?’ he asks, tone wary. ‘You have. Every student in the village knew you, Zoro,’ your lips uptick faintly. ‘You just didn’t know them, engrossed in your tunnelled dream, working towards it with the only other student who was above your raw prowess. It was admirable, and it’s partly why I took up a second sword. It’s funny we ended up on the same ship,’ you reply, lifting the scabbards at your side. 

He regards you, considering, as you turn back to the folder in your lap. ‘You have a story,’ he decides finally, the words more of a statement than a question as he rests back onto the wall, closing his eyes once more. ‘About as much as the next person,’ you answer, peeking up from the pages to watch him once more, chest falling and rising with his shallow, controlled breaths. 

You sit in charged, slowly tranquil silence beside the napping swordsman, engrossed in the inconsistencies of the arrest warrant and report. Your eyes begin to droop as you close the file shut, gazing out at the endless horizon, sunset meeting twilight, and succumb to the greedy claws of sleep. 

Morning come, you’re dressed and clean, slotting the case file and bounty poster into the pockets of your duffel. You sit cross legged on the deck beside Luffy, watching him work on what looks like a skull and crossbones with a straw hat as he regales the story of what went down in Shells Town. You don’t have the heart to tell him the lines of teeth (?) are wonky, lips pressed together to hold back a giggle. A passion project, you suppose. ‘D’you like it?’ he looks to you for approval, beaming when you nod at him, smiling shakily. He remains none the wiser, turning to the girl at the bow, pushing up her glasses as she runs a hand across the coveted map to the Grand Line. 

‘Hey, Nami. Nami!’ he calls, and she looks up at him, her focus skewed. ‘What.’ she deadpans, annoyance creeping into her voice at being disrupted. He grins, clumsily bending to pick up the large fabric. ‘It’s ready!’ 

‘And what is…it?’ she asks, nonplussed, and you close your eyes, lips pursed, reaching for inner peace. ‘Our Jolly Roger! Every pirate crew has to have one, and now we do!’ You whoop weakly in support, fist raised. ‘We are not a crew, and you are most definitely not hanging that on my boat.’ His smile wavers, and you pat his back in comfort. The door to the galley opens, and he perks up again. 

‘Hey Zoro! Check it out,’ he displays it, much like how a kid seeks approval on an art project. Zoro takes in the Roger, before looking back up at Luffy. ‘That’s unique,’ he mutters, walking to the port rail, at which you can’t help but snicker.   

‘Nami I think the toilet’s broken,’ he tells her, before glancing at you, head cocked at your laughter. You shrug mirthfully, turning to Nami when she responds, and your cheery expression melts. 'We don't have a toilet.’

‘Oh.’ He looks away from both your probing stares, bobbing his chin at the door. ‘Well something back there’s leaking.’ 

Nami curses in alarm, storming into the galley as you scrunch your nose in disgust at him. ‘Gross.’ ‘What?’

She stomps back out, finger pointed at him. ‘We’re taking in water. What did you do?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ he quips, face twisting petulantly. ‘With how you’re always clanging your swords around all the time, you must’ve broken something!’ she exclaims gesturing at his swords, and you step back, hands subconsciously pressing your sword guard closer to your hip. 

‘If you’re such a good thief then maybe you should’ve stolen a better boat,’ he shoots back, words scathing. 

Luffy steps in before the fight can escalate, calling for a crew meeting, and stand beside him wordlessly as the others chorus “not a crew.’’ You observe the tension between the two as he talks about getting a new ship, fit for the Grand Line  – they’ve met only recently before being put into the small confines of her boat, from what Luffy told you, both aiming for different targets, iffy and apprehensive around the other. 

The group suddenly goes silent, looking to you for your opinion. You’d kept your ears open, despite not participating in the discussion, thank seas, pertaining to the name of the crew. ‘The Gecko Islands are pretty safe, and their port town Syrup Village is well known for their shipbuilding – it's quiet and relatively free of pirates. We could go there?’ you nod slowly, offering information from what you’ve learnt on your travels. 

‘Perfect! Great job, quartermaster and navigator,’ he smiles at you, before pointedly nodding at Nami, who sighs heavily.

‘You’re still not hanging that on my ship.’ 

kryscent '24 do not repost or translate without credits | likes or reblogs are much appreciated <3

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-- RP: @skullboneandunown

skullboneandunown:

Razor didn't back down. He slams his now more powerful tail on the ground, and lets out a hiss. 'And what makes you think Donovan, or anyone would let that slide?' He knew he himself wouldn't have a chance, but Donovan? He fought against an omnicidal robot hellbent on purging all life in the multiverse. Granted, that was a team effort, but still. The Primal Beast felt the dark magiks leave his body, a chill in the air as they force Terapagos back into it's slumber. "....Get it done, pests. I will deal with you later." He watches Donovan fall to his knees, spent and in pain....a pain Morgan wouldn't be able to heal completely. Razor and Mewtwo race over to help him up, and his armor disappears. He coughs and speaks to Morgan, although unable to face her at the moment. He hurt too much. "I know you're hurting Morgan. But threaten innocent people, or destroy anything, and it won't just be Zygarde who comes after you." He pauses to try to stand, grunting as he forces himself up. "I'm meant to protect the world from any and all potential mystic threats. Now... now that includes you, if it comes to it." He stares down at his arms, and Mewtwo's blood runs cold. Glowing cracks have formed on Donovan's arms, from his fingertips to his shoulders. Donovan just sighs. "Well.... that's just prime." The Primal Beast can only glare daggers at her as she heals the others, and his blood boils at the mention of him losing his children. He very much wants to rip her throat out, he is the only one here strong enough to actually fight her, but he sneers. "Perhaps. But I won't destroy innocent lives like you would. I can accept that death comes for many, my children included, can you say the same, Morgan?" He huffs and begins to channel more temporal energy. "It will be a minute until I can get them back. You'll just have to be patient."

'I have always been a threat, Donovan. I always will be. I would tear down the sky for what is precious to me.' The one thing she held sacred was her children and her family. They were hers and gods be damned if she'd let her brightest student or even the Primal Beast stand in her way. That being said, she did not look to Donovan, instead letting Mewtwo and Razor tend to him. Her gaze slides to the Primal Beast at hand, her voice quieting and a private link between the two of them coming to the forefront for her voice.

'In all the years you knew me, let alone will know me, have I ever once destroyed innocent lives?' It was an honest question, and if he was going to be a smartass, she would be one back. 'I don't know what you did to deserve this form, but I suppose i'll find out in the future.' That being said, she lays a hand to the barrier. It's unbreakable, untouchable, and it feels like a rift has grown between her and her child... and she suppresses the feeling to cry at this. 'I have seen and accepted death so many times before -- but my children are not meant to die anytime soon. I have seen their ends. This was not foretold.' She pauses. 'And if you tell me to be patient one more time, I will knock your legs right out from under you. I'm still the one who taught you to tear down the sky and control even Arceus himself, or have you forgotten?'

Her tone goes between pain and joking. She can't keep her emotions straight, and for her, a fae, it is difficult to grasp how much she has changed in being a mother. Taking on her Gardevoir form in Monarch phase, she looks to the Primal Beast then. 'Be honest with me, Donnie. This will take more then just a few minutes, won't it? This barrier.' No, it would take a week, perhaps even longer. She despaired to know what laid beyond this distortion. Shifting a bit as she felt Mew coming closer, she could see the despair in his eyes, and let him in on the conversation via a psychic link. 'You couldn't have known. No one could have.' She sighs softly.

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (17/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,346

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, creepy men

masterlist

a/n: HEYYYYY HAPPY TWO YEAR BLOG BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!

Bucky’s heart was pounding as he finally shook the last of the Hydra goons that had been chasing him, glancing every which way just to double check.

He didn’t feel good about this.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the two of you had gotten separated, and he hated it. Granted, he always hated being away from you, had since you were fifteen.

Back then it was because he didn’t trust the Red Room instructors. Now it was because he was in love with you and being away from you made him feel like a part of his heart was missing.

Speed walking towards the entrance of Coney Island, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper’s number.

“Oh, my god, thank god. What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper demanded angrily of him. “Do neither of you know how to answer your phones? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. “We had to separate so I could try to lead the bad guys away, but they just… disappeared. I’m heading for our meeting spot now.”

Morgan and a few other kids were babbling in the background about how their day had gotten cut short, but he knew that the littlest Stark would understand better than anyone else once they explained to her.

Pepper was suspiciously quiet for… a long time. A long, long time.

“Pepper?” Bucky whispered, his voice cracking.

There was an unspoken question between them.

What if he’d fucked up?

Should he have stayed with her?

What if they’d gotten to her?

And one that was looming over his head, heavier than ever.

What if he never got to tell you how he felt?

“I’m here,” she said reassuringly.

“What if…” Bucky’s heart cracked inside of his chest. His throat was closing up with each passing second, his flesh palm sweaty. Keeping his grip on his cell phone was becoming a challenge. “What if I n-never g-get to tell her h-how I feel?”

“Don’t think like that.”

“God, I’m so fucking stupid,” he cursed as he made his way to the aquarium. His eyes flickered around the crowd, almost hoping he’d see the two women from earlier. They would’ve recognized you and might’ve seen you.

But there was no sign of them.

“Those fucking special skills or whatever would really come in fucking handy right now,” he cursed. With the way people were parting like the Red Sea in front of him, he knew he probably had his less-than-friendly expression on.

His Murder Face, as you called it.

Or his Resting Bitch Face, according to Sam.

Bucky ran his vibranium hand over his face as he tried not to panic. For one, he hadn’t even gotten to the meeting spot yet. Most likely, you were there waiting for him and he was worrying over nothing. “Tony and Natasha will haunt me forever if I let something happen to her.”

A sigh resounded over the phone. “You didn’t let something happen to her, Bucky. Hell, we don’t even know if something is wrong with her yet. But they both know that you have… you have literally devoted your entire being to taking care of her, protecting her. You did what you thought was the best option in the moment. And maybe… Maybe there was no getting out of that ambush without something happening to one of you.”

Rounding the corner to the tunnel, his heart stopped inside his chest.

You weren’t there.

“Bucky? Bucky? What’s going on? You there? What’s happening?”

It was like the world around him had gone fuzzy, and all he could hear was a ringing in his ears.

You weren’t there.

You weren’t there, and it was all his fault.

He told you to go to the tunnel.

How fucking stupid was he? The tunnel was possibly the worst place he could’ve told you to go to. It’s closed off, a literal tube with water all around you except two very small exits that were easily blocked.

What had he done?

Slumber had come easy for you for once. You were so exhausted, even your bones weary, from dancing all day. And by all day, that meant for over twelve hours because of your sadistic new instructor.

The last one had been… disposed of.

You’d woken at sunrise as usual and gone straight to ballet, only for the instructor to not let you go after the normal three hour class.

The rest of the girls filed out of the dance studio, some glancing back at you in curiosity.

There was no worry in their eyes. It was every girl for themselves these days.

If you thought real hard, you could remember a time when you all looked out for each other. You would braid each other’s hair, give a warning if any of the instructors or Madame B were near. If someone didn’t wake up when they were supposed to, the girls would shake her awake and help her get ready on time.

But that time was no more.

Those that ran the infamous Red Room didn’t like when their… students banded together. Things were better for them when you all hated each other and sought ways to sabotage the others.

It made you more likely to kill during a sparring session, and they only wanted girls who were willing to go all the way.

“Is there something you needed from me, madam?” You asked, your hands folded behind your back, spine straight, your chin high.

Good posture had been beaten into you within a week of arrival.

You didn’t forget a lesson like that anytime soon.

The instructor was new to you girls, though you had been told she wasn’t new to the Red Room. She’d been one of you, once upon a time.

One of the few who had survived to graduation, and then lived long enough after to be brought back as an instructor.

“I’m told you’re a prodigy,” she drawled as she slowly walked towards you, her platinum blonde hair pulled into a tight ballerina bun much like your own. While all of you girls wore black leotards, hers was a pale lilac, a shimmering rehearsal skirt tied around her waist that swished around her thighs. “That you are Madame B’s new pride and joy… Though, just based on your dancing, there is absolutely nothing to be prideful of. It is a surprise to me that you haven’t been… taken care of.”

The implication was clear.

Just based on that morning’s class, she thought you were bad enough at ballet to be killed.

Was it possible she just wanted you executed now? Was she about to do so?

Even though Madame B would be pissed, there were more girls that they could train. She’d only be upset for so long before she’d have a new prodigy, a new pride and joy.

Before the Soldat would have a new trainee.

Before your Soldat would have a new trainee. All the other Soldats could have all the trainees they wanted, but your Soldat, your Seven… The thought of him training another girl made bile rise up in your throat.

“Do you have pointers for things I could work on, madame?” You asked, shoulders tensing as she circled you. Like a vulture ready to scavenge a dying animal.

“I simply thought I could lend you some extra practice time,” she said, a sickly sweet smile spreading over her lips as she looked you up and down. “And don’t worry about Madame B and your other instructors. I already let them know that I wanted extra time with you today.”

The way she was speaking was setting off alarms in your mind.

“Perfect,” you said clearly, not letting your fear show. The instructors could smell fear and would use it against you until your heart stopped beating.

“Do you know the role of Aurora in the Sleeping Beauty ballet?” She asked, eyes cold. When you nodded, she chuckled. “Good. You’ll be dancing it on pointe, start to finish. Now.”

You were shocked when she then turned and started the music, but you did as she said.

Now, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty is his longest ballet ever, at almost four hours long.

And you danced all of it.

“Below average,” the instructor said, glaring daggers at you. “Again.”

You needed water desperately, your lungs fighting for air as you pretended to be unbothered by having done that by taking slow, even breaths.

But you had to do it again.

And again.

Every time you finished, she gave some comment about how your dancing was shit, how you’d never be good enough.

At this point, you wished she would simply kill you and get it over with. You were exhausted and your muscles felt like they were going to give out at any moment.

“MALEN’KAYA!”

You fell out of your pirouette in your shock, gasping as your ankle twisted and you fell to the ground. “Fuck!”

Your Soldat stormed into the dance studio as you looked up, eyes wide.

When had he gotten back? He’d been on a mission for the past few days, and fuck, you’d missed him something fierce.

“Soldat,” the instructor breathed out as she stopped moving, staring up at him with blue eyes. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” he said, glaring at her like she was a pile of dog shit he’d stepped in.

She moved towards him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “I was hoping to see—” She was cut off as he raised his hands to hold her face. The harsh woman looked so… soft for him. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“No,” he snarled, his voice dropping almost an octave. “You should’ve thought twice before touching my malen’kaya.”

The light that had been in her eyes when she first saw him quickly disappeared as she realized she was totally, and utterly, fucked.

Your heart caught in your throat as he so easily twisted her head, a loud snap ringing through the air. He let her limp, lifeless body fall to the ground with a thump before turning and rushing to you. The darkness that had been in his face was long gone as he pulled you close, his hands running over you to try to find sources of injuries.

It took you a moment to realize he was speaking, your ears ringing as you stared at the dead woman on the ground.

“—you okay? What the hell happened? Who allowed this?” He asked, talking a mile a minute as he checked over you. Once he finally got to your pointe shoes, he took in a shaky breath. “I have to check,” he said as he reached for the pink ribbons tied around your ankles.

In the two years since you’d known him, you’d never seen his hands shake like they were.

Your eyes locked in on his face, his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed, as he tentatively untied one of your pointe shoes. He slowly slipped it off, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at your foot. It was only when the second one came off that you finally looked at the damage.

Well… You were sure your feet could have looked much worse after dancing for over twelve hours, but… It still wasn’t pretty.

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you lied, trying to soothe him.

He was usually much more composed than this, his face harder.

Even when he was feeling a bit nicer, a bit softer, it was nothing like this.

The Soldat shook his head, looking absolutely pissed. “You don’t have to lie. Never lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted. “But that might be because right now, they’re numb, so I can’t feel anything at all from about my ankles down. But that does mean I didn’t lie.”

You were attempting to joke with him, lighten up the mood a bit. However, he definitely didn’t seem to be taking the bait.

When you glanced over at the windows, for some reason you were surprised to see how late it was. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he drawled as he scooped you up, leaving your pointe shoes behind as he carried you to the locker room. The man was somehow almost completely silent as he set you on a bench and grabbed a first aid kit out of what seemed to be thin air, before gently cleaning away the blood.

Water was dripping somewhere in the locker room, the droplets hitting the tiled floor with soft clinks.

“You were gone,” you whispered, eyes trained on his face. He was still so handsome, even with the frown lines that were starting to appear. Not that you could blame him, everything he’d been through would more than warrant a few wrinkles. “You were gone so long…”

The Soldat’s eyes were soft, despite being the color of the ice that coated the windows. “I know… I can’t stand being away from you, but if I didn’t go… They’d find some way to punish me.” His rough flesh hand cupped your cheek. “And I think they’re starting to catch on that the best way to punish me would be through you, malen’kaya.”

For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you. From the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again, you could’ve sworn on your life.

But then he took in a deep breath.

And his hand left your cheek.

You tried to push down the disappointment that welled up in your throat, biting your lip.

“Come on, malen’kaya,” he said as he finished wrapping up your poor feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The other girls were already sleeping when he carried you into your room, each one of them with a single wrist handcuffed to the bed frame.

“Hate knowing that you’re locked here all night,” Soldat said, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he approached the only empty bed in the room. “It’s like… putting a lark in a cage. I don’t like it.”

“I know,” you said. “But… It’s just how it is.” You looked up at him with bright eyes as he laid you down and tucked the blanket in around you, making sure you were nice and cozy before he took your left wrist and cuffed it to the metal frame.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, brushing his metal fingers along your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Oh, God…

Everything hurt…

Why did everything hurt?

It was like your head had been shoved under water, but your eyes were too heavy to open.

“—gotta take the video and send it.”

“How do we know he’ll come?”

“Oh, he’ll come. He’ll always come for her.”

Who was that? The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but not quite.

“His precious malen’kaya.”

You slipped back into unconsciousness even as you fought the darkness coming over you, slumping down again.

The clock ticked obnoxiously loud as you sat in the diner booth, your knee pulled up to your chest. A cold cup of half-drank coffee was sitting on the table in front of you.

You’d been waiting over an hour for him to show.

The lunch rush had come and gone, and the waitresses—in their rockabilly uniforms and roller skates—were shooting you pitying looks.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you huffed as you got to your feet and slammed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the vinyl table top. “He asks me on a fucking date and then doesn’t fucking show. How fucking typical.”

It had only been two days since the mission where he’d asked you out on a date. Your ankle was wrapped, and you were under strict orders to rest.

So, of course, you’d dragged yourself out to this diner that he insisted on taking you to.

Well, meeting you at since you really, really didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of riding in the same car.

If you were being honest, it hurt. A lot. You’d gotten your hopes up over the past two days, tossing and turning at night as you dreamed of what would happen on your date. Would it go anywhere? Would he end up being the love of your life?

You hadn’t had a crush on anyone since…

Well… Since your Soldat.

You missed him so fucking much.

And he wouldn’t have stood you up.

“Fuck Steve Rogers.”

Your face was flushed as you headed home, storming through the streets of Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. You needed time to stew, and the subway would be too fast.

“I should’ve just stayed home and taken that fucking bubble bath,” you huffed as you got in the elevator and rode up to the residential floors. Even if it had been meant to be a casual first date, you’d done your hair and stressed over your makeup, wearing your nicest pair of leggings and sneakers that didn’t have mud on the bottoms.

And even if the plan had been for it to be casual, you’d been looking forward to flowers and a kiss on the cheek, stealing a fry from his plate and maybe playing footsie under the table.

Just a little.

Like other girls got to do.

The elevator music was getting into your head, and there was no doubt it’d be haunting your dreams. But when the doors opened onto the common area floor, you were just about ready to burst into tears.

Because Steven Grant Rogers was sitting at the kitchen island and eating a sandwich as he laughed at some joke Rhodey made.

You couldn’t believe him. Was this his plan all along?

Steeling yourself, you straightened your spine and walked with purpose, planning on walking right by without even acknowledging him.

But of course, that wouldn’t be your luck.

As soon as Steve caught sight of you, he froze, his blue eyes going wide. Breathing out your name, he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Wait! Please! I’m so fucking sorry, I completely forgot!”

“It’s fucking fine, Rogers. It’s clearly a sign that this is was a bad idea in the first place,” you said, your voice cold enough to freeze him again.

“What?! No! Please, I’m just…” He groaned as he followed you onto the elevator that would take you up to the other residential floors. “I just had three meetings before noon and completely forgot! That doesn’t mean I don’t want this date with you!”

Taking a breath, you turned on him, glaring at him like he was a piece of dog shit on your shoe. “You know what the cherry on top of this is?” You asked with a laugh. “My first fucking date of my entire fucking life, and I get stood up. Fuck you, Rogers. Fuck. You.”

You’d successfully shocked him, and left him looking like a guppy, his mouth hanging open as he watched you leave him standing there.

When you came to again, you actually found the strength to open your eyes.

The room around you was like every stereotypical hostage room you’d ever seen in real life, and in movies.

Almost like the one Olivia Pope had been in on Scandal.

Though, you had a feeling that this one was real and wasn’t just a fancy set in a warehouse.

“Where am I?” You asked yourself, trying to take stock of everything. “Okay. Head hurts. Expected that. Don’t feel any sharp pains… so he probably shot me with a tranquilizer and not a bullet… Which is probably better for my chances of escape.” It was so fucking cold, your entire body was trembling. “No phone, so no way for the others to track me. Same clothing I was in… so at least there’s that.”

Your voice died as you heard movement beyond the black steel door in front of you, watching as it slowly opened. Your heart sank as you realized who was standing in front of you.

“It’s been too long, malen’kaya.”

[novaiya]

Killing Me Softly With Her Song - Arthur x Reader

Summary: Based on this request: Can I get one where Arthur reacts to hearing you sing at camp for the first time? Like, just walking by one of the campfires and hearing you play Javier’s guitar and singing to yourself or if in a group setting hearing you sing along to one of the songs they sing at camp or something like that.

Words: 708

Warnings: None.

A/N: This was probably the easiest request for me to do because I go to sleep imagining this everyday. The song that you’re singing is Silver Dagger (Joan Baez version). I, of course, wanted to make you shred Crazy Train, but decide to spare Arthur and the rest of the camp the mindfuck that would be the conversation explaining metal 😌

The camp was busy when Arthur came back. Pearson and Abigail were chopping vegetables, with little Jack sitting on the ground right next to his mother, playing with Cain. Kieran was tending to the horses, and not far off Sadie was feeding the chickens. By the wagons, he could see the girls, Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen, either sewing or washing clothes, except you. You weren’t there. He looked around the camp; you weren’t by the main campfire, by the poker table or by your tent. He was about to walk over to the girls and ask about your whereabouts when he heard a voice in the distance. He turned towards it and saw you by the scout fire with a guitar in your lap.

As he walked closer, he could hear you sing, voice soft and smooth over the sound of the guitar.

“And in her right hand, a silver dagger,” you sang. Your head was down, watching your fingers move between chords, so you didn’t notice Arthur’s arrival. He took a sit across from you, quietly listening to your voice.

He had never heard you sing. Whenever there were songs being sung by the campfire, you weren’t there to join, usually busy with other things. He couldn’t believe that all this time you were hiding such a beautiful voice. There were so many things he still didn’t know about you, he thought, and he was keen on changing that.

“My daddy is a handsome devil,” you sang as your fingers moved from A chord to D chord and then back to A. Arthur never knew you could play the guitar either. The only person he ever saw use the old guitar was Javier and whenever he wasn’t using it, it simply sat against an old crate, collecting dust, waiting till next time to be used. Arthur was amazed as he watched you play. Your fingers moved effortlessly between chords, gracefully changing between shapes and positions. Although he didn’t know how to play himself, he could tell that you’re good just from how easy you made it look.

“-alone all of my life.” You strummed the A chord one last time before coming to a stop.

“Didn’t know you sang.”

Arthur’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you snap your head up at him.

“Arthur!” you exclaimed, not expecting to have an audience.

“Sorry for intruding,” he said, raising his hands up. “Didn’t wanna interfere while you were playin’.”

“No worries, it’s fine. Just didn’t expect anyone to be listening.”

“How come I never heard you sing before?”

You smiled sheepishly, casting your head down, trying to hide a blush on your cheeks.

“Well, I usually just sing for myself.” You pushed a hair away from your face, putting it behind your ear. You felt really nervous, having Arthur hear you sing. Singing was something you did for yourself, never for anyone else, a hobby that you weren’t putting on display or monetizing.

Arthur nodded at your answer, understanding perfectly what you meant. He too had a hobby he didn’t particularly want to share with people; journaling. He kept it to himself, doing it whenever he had spare time and not showing it to anyone.

“Well,” he said, getting up from the chair, “If you ever feel like it, I’d love to hear more.”

“You do?” you said, looking up at him. He walked up to you, giving you a hand and helping you up.

“Sure. It seems like there's still lots of things I don’t know about you.”

“Says you,” you shot back with a smile, “with you and your journal.”

Arthur laughed at that, his hands coming up to hold the buckle of his belt.

“I tell you what. You sing a song for me, and I’ll let you see a page from my journal, how about that?”

Arthur’s offer surprised you. You knew how protective he was of his journal, never leaving it unattended or letting anyone get even a peak. Was his desire to hear you sing so strong? Or perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, you weren’t about to say no to Arthur, especially if you got to spend more time with him.

“Sounds like a plan Mr. Morgan.”

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #130/164

130 & 164 fit well together as kind of a “two parter”.

Oh my god! You’re in love with her! Why can’t they see they’re meant for each other?

Despite the image he maintains with relative ease, David Rossi wouldn’t consider himself an expert in love. Far from it, actually. After all, he’s been divorced three times, each one a bit more dramatic than the previous. He’s broken hearts as many times as his own has broken. It’s a relentless cycle that has made him overwhelmingly astute, the kind of wisdom that comes from years of experience.

He’s undoubtedly charming, knows his way around a wine cellar, and can woo even the most jaded of women.

Love, however, is a different story.

But if there’s one thing he prides himself on, it’s calling it when he sees it. As he’s learned over time, love is sometimes inconvenient, usually impractical, and something is always lingering in the shadows to tear it apart. It’s a test of survival, one he’s failed many a time.

Those years of experience are how he comes to the conclusion that Aaron Hotchner is head over heels in love with Emily Prentiss. He’s annoyed at himself for not calling it sooner, for not seeing the signs. Because today was one hell of a sign, and as he walks away from the crime scene, his heart pumps just a little faster, a bead of sweat lingering on his brow. A sign that was just a little too close for his comfort.

They’re in Boston this time, having been called in to catch a killer targeting brunettes in nightclubs. And as day two blends into day three without much more than a tentative profile and preferred location, they have to take a different approach. One Dave should have seen coming.

It’d been Emily’s idea to go under, posing as a potential target, one Aaron disagreed with from the beginning. Dave had watched him shoot her down immediately, an utter disregard that bordered on downright rude in front of half the Boston PD. It wasn’t the curtness of his voice that got his attention, or the way he held up his hand as if to shush her when her mouth opened to question his directive. It wasn’t that. It was concern, maybe even a touch of fear he’d seen in their normally unflappable Unit Chief. He’s met with Emily’s fury, an anger that radiates through her eyes, her arms curling across her chest in defiance.

But they have no other option, because catching a nightclub killer isn’t going to be easy, as Emily reminds him, unwilling to back down. It’s a good plan, she suggests, because she fits the bill and knows the profile.Aaron’s face darkens at the prospect. “He’ll walk right into our trap,” she reasons before it’s almost a done deal, and she changes into the slinky emerald green dress that somehow appears from nowhere.  

Dave has an inkling his reluctance goes beyond more than just simple concern for a subordinate just moments before they leave for the club. When sees her angrily stalking away from him, wearing that green dress that turns every head in the station, her hair fixed and fully made up, he knows there’s something between them. Something that’s been going on for awhile now. Aaron follows behind her, his mouth pressed into an angry line and his jaw set. His eyes don’t even linger on the dress - which suggests he’s seen it on her before. The only question is when that was.

“Disagreement?” Dave attempts with discretion as Emily disappears around a corner, her spine stiff and her shoulders squared.

He says nothing in return, only fastens the FBI vest around his waist, a sign of his defeat.

But as it turns out, in the end, Aaron was right, and Dave isn’t sure he wants to know all the details of just how he finds him bent over their unsub, menacing with a gun in his face less than two hours later. The Boston PD swarms around them too, their own weapons drawn in preparation. Aaron is seething, hissing that it’s over, an expletive falling from his lips.

“Hotch,” is what Dave says evenly, almost pleasantly, because what he recognizes in his face is rage. Rage for the fact that Emily was found with maybe seconds to spare before things went from bad to worse, with two broken ribs, a badly sprained ankle, a fractured cheekbone from being pummeled in the face. “We’ve got him. Go.”

When he escorts their unsub into a police car - a man whose name isn’t even worth uttering - he spies Aaron hovering around the open doors of an ambulance, mere inches away from Emily’s side. She’s bleeding at the knees, her face already swollen, as she’s loaded into the ambulance en route to a Boston hospital. They got lucky tonight, as they often do, but this one carries a little more weight. For more reasons than one.

...

The bar is where he finds Aaron after they get back from the hospital hours later, everyone in just a few more pieces than they’d been when arriving. There’s a drink in his hand and an empty glass beside it, suggesting he’s been here a bit longer than Dave originally thought. The clock on the wall approaches 2 AM.

“Shouldn’t you be with her right now?” He asks, taking the empty stool at his side. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“JJ has it under control,” Aaron says stiffly, clearly not ready to elaborate any further because things are clearly still rocky. “I shouldn’t have ever agreed to send her under.”

“Did you actually think you’d have a choice?” The bartender brings another round for them both, and he nods a quick thanks. “Emily is … well, Emily.”

“I could have taken her off the case. But then I wouldn’t have been objective. What I did was based strictly on my own feelings.” It’s as close a confession as he’ll get out of him, so Dave takes a chance.

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Three months,” Aaron says honestly, maybe a bit too forthcoming, but that’s probably the alcohol talking. Has it been that long? Clearly by now, Dave knows their little secret. “She’s a little out of my league, don’t you think?” He scrubs a hand over his eyes, his face lined with exhaustion and stress, the emotional turmoil that comes with nearly losing someone you love.

“My God,” Dave whistles, the whiskey burning his throat and quieting the voice in his head that reminds him just how close she got today. He suddenly wishes he had a cigar. “You’re in love with her,” he adds quietly. It’s a statement, not a question.

Aaron swallows tightly, nods. “Is it that obvious?”

His face cracks into the slightest of grins. “No. I’ve just been around long enough to tell.”

...

The flight home from Boston is uncomfortably quiet. It’s like everyone knows to stay out of Aaron’s way, giving him space once they’ve boarded the plane. He gets on last, staying a safe distance away from Emily, even though he keeps a protective eye on her at all times. She’s on crutches for the next week - the ankle sprain was worse than they’d originally thought, and she curses under her breath as she maneuvers clumsily down the narrow aisle. Whatever went down between them in Boston is clearly still brewing, and Dave is glad they’re all headed to the sanctuary of their own homes. He says a silent prayer for whichever set of neighbors have the good fortune of listening to the argument that will most likely materialize once they’re back in Virginia.

“I’m fine,” Emily says firmly once she’s seated with her foot elevated on the seat across from her, ignoring the sympathetic smiles from Morgan and Reid, their offers to keep her comfortable. “Everyone please stop looking at me like I’m going to break into pieces.” Emily grumbles, clearly exasperated, gripping the armrests as she takes a few steadying deep breaths. From the corner of his eye, Dave watches her pop a pain pill, chase it down with some water, and stare at the ceiling for a few long moments.

Aaron settles not too far away, and it only takes a few minutes before they’re staring daggers at one another, a wordless duel laced with the remnants of previous arguments. It’s palpable, hanging in the air like a cloying smoke. Being in their vicinity finally gets too uncomfortable; he awkwardly shuffles down the aisle a few seats back, finding JJ in one of the seats with a book in her lap. She barely acknowledges him, just a little half smile as she stares at the pages, and it soon becomes painfully obvious she’s not even reading the words.

“You gonna turn the page anytime soon? You’ve been on -” Dave leans over to confirm - “page 177 for the last fifteen minutes.”

“Why can’t they see they’re meant for each other?” JJ mutters under her breath next to him. it’s meant for only him to hear, Dave does a double take, making sure he heard correctly. She catches him immediately, smirking behind her fist. “What? I don’t believe for a second you don’t know about what’s going on between the two of them.

He holds up both hands innocently, hoping it's convincing. “I know nothing.”

“Lie to me again, Rossi, and I’ll ask Strauss why she comes to your office every night when she thinks we’ve all gone home.” JJ snaps the book shut, tossing it to the side. “Now,” she says, lowering her voice. “Tell me what you know.”

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 7

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1571

Rating:  E

Warnings: pregnancy, light angst

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 7

The logistics of holding a dinner party for all the Avengers and their families was a little daunting and Bucky sat at the kitchen table looking at recipes that would work for such a large group of people, but would also cater to the different dietary restrictions people had.  Wanda was vegetarian for example and so either she’d need to be catered for specifically or everything would need to be vegetarian.  He considered the options for either scenario.  He also realized there was absolutely no way that everyone would be able to fit in their apartment, and he’d have to use the party deck and have it set up for a banquet.

As he scrolled through a list of suggested recipes for vegetarian dishes at a large dinner party and bookmarked the pages for spinach and ricotta Rotolo, chestnut, spinach and blue cheese en croûte, and onion, walnut and mushroom tarte tatin, the door to the apartment opened and you and Steve came in with Geo.  Geo threw his backpack on the ground and you picked it up and took out his lunchbox as the boy beelined for his tablet.

“Welcome home, Geo,” FRIDAY announced.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” he said.  “Did you have a nice day?”

“It’s been busy,” the AI replied.  “How about you?”

Bucky chuckled as FRIDAY and Geo had their usual post-school chat.  You went into the kitchen and washed out his lunch boxes as you let him settle in for the day and Steve came over to Bucky, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen and kissing him on the top of the head.  “Planning a menu?”  He asked.

Bucky nodded.  “Yeah.  There’s a lot of people to cook for.”

There was a break in the conversation between FRIDAY and Geo and Bucky looked over at the boy as he turned on his tablet.  “Hey G, not going to say hello to me?”

“Hey, dad,” Geo said, without looking up.

“Geo, can you put that down for a minute and come here,” Steve said.  “We’ve got something to tell you.”

Geo looked up at Steve with an expression of a boy who thinks he was in trouble and is trying to work out exactly which of his infractions had gotten him here.  He got up slowly and came over, looking from Steve to Bucky suspiciously.

“You can relax, Geo.  It’s not bad news,” Steve said.

“Then what is it?”  Geo asked.

You came out of the kitchen and took a seat at the table.  “So,” you said, rubbing his arm.  “It turns out, you’re going to be a big brother?”

“Really?”  He said, blinking at you.  “Is it going to be a brother or a sister?”

“It’s too early to say,” Steve said.  “But as soon as we know we’ll tell you.”

Geo looked at Steve and Bucky and frowned.

“What’s up, buddy?”  You asked.  “You can tell us anything.”

“It’s nothing,” he said.  “Can I go to my room?”

You looked at Bucky and Steve looked at each other confused.  “Sure, if that’s what you want,” Steve said.  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

Geo shook his head and pushed his chair away from the table and went to his room quietly.  Bucky looked at Steve and furrowed his brow.  “What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said.  “Maybe we should have talked to him about having another baby before we started trying.  I mean, it affects him too.”

You frowned and tapped your thumbs on the table.  “You don’t think he’s worried that you’re not going to love him as much do you?”

“Would he?  He was so young when we met him,” Steve said as Bucky felt himself shrinking down into the chair.  He’d never even considered that Geo might think something like that.  He wanted more kids because of how much he loved both you and Geo and he wanted more of that.  ���I would have thought he’d just see it as another kid.  The way he took to Morgan so fast too.”

“Maybe we should go talk to him,” Bucky said.

“Okay, but if he doesn't want to talk, don't push him,” you said.  “Let him process and make sure he knows he can come to you when he's ready.”

Steve nodded and the two men got up, heading to Geo’s room.  Steve knocked lightly on the door, and when they heard Geo’s small voice saying come in, they let themselves in.

Geo was sitting in his closet with his tablet.  He wouldn't look up at Steve or Bucky, and while he wasn't crying, his eyes were rimmed in red.

“Geo,” Steve said gently, crouching down.  “You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but we just came in to check on you.  We -” He looked over at Bucky for help and Bucky let out a breath and took a seat on the ground, cross-legged next to the closet.

“Do you think when the baby comes we will forget about you?”  Bucky finished.

Geo scrunched up his face and turned away from them so he was facing the wall.  “You aren't really my dads.”

The words felt like a cold dagger to Bucky’s heart.  He knew Geo hadn’t meant them to hurt.  He was hurting and that was how the little boy thought Steve and Bucky saw him.  That didn't change the fact that it hurt that Geo felt like that at all.  Not after all this time.  He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and rubbed it in soothing circles.  “Yes, we are.”

“Of course we are,” Steve agreed.  “Don't we do all the things dads do?”

Geo shrugged and didn't answer.

“We love you buddy.  The new baby isn't going to change that.  It will just mean you're gonna have a little brother or sister to look up to you,” Bucky said.

“What if you love them more?” Geo asked.

“Geo,” Steve said.  “I know that sometimes you can love one thing more than another thing.  I love painting more than reading.  You love FRIDAY more than you love the traffic lights.  But most of the time that's not how it works.  It's not like a bag of candy you can run out of.  A person has an endless amount of love to give and it's just different for different people or things.”

Bucky smiled and took Steve’s hand.  Steve always did have a way with words when he stopped for a moment to use them.  “Yeah, buddy,” Bucky agreed.  “You've got two dads right here.  Do you love one of us more than the other?”

Geo shook his head.

“That’s the same with us,” Steve said.  “I love your dad Bucky, and your mom, and you.  I love you all so much, it’s just different for each person.”

“And pal,” Bucky added.  “We wanted another kid because we love you so much.  We wanted more of that - not to replace you.  We’d never replace you.”

Geo turned around and practically flopped over both men, one arm holding each.  He started to sob and Steve rubbed his back.  “That’s alright.  You cry it out, bud.  We’ve got you and we’re not going anywhere,” Steve said.

“And when they get here, you’re going to have one more person in your life that loves you and you’ll know will always be there for you,” Bucky added.  “I had a little sister growing up.  She was one of my best friends.”

Geo looked up at Bucky.  “Really?”

“Yeah. She could be annoying sometimes, but we used to do so many things together,” Bucky said.  One of the hardest things Bucky had had to come to terms with when he’d broken free of his HYDRA programming was how many people he’d lost and never gotten to say goodbye to.  There were now people out there in the world that didn’t know who he was that he wished he knew.  His sister had had children and they had had children and they’d started having children too, and more likely than not, they didn’t even know who he was.

Geo seemed to sit and think things over for a moment.  “Okay.”

“We’re going to have dinner with everyone to tell them the news,”  Bucky said.  “You wanna help get ready for it?  You can help me decide what to cook and decorate the table.”

“When?”  Geo asked.

“Tomorrow, up on the party deck,” Bucky said.

“Okay,” Geo said.  “I’ll help.”

“Do you want to be the one to tell everyone?”  Steve asked.

Geo looked up at him with big eyes.  “Can I?”

“Sure,” Steve said, ruffling his hair.  “We’ll say ‘Geo has some news’, and then you can tell everyone.”

Geo got up excitedly.  “I’m gonna make table decorations,” he said before running to his craft box and digging around in it.

Steve looked at Bucky and chuckled.  “That seemed to do it,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded.  “Might need to make the extra effort to make sure he feels important.”

“We can do that,” Bucky said, getting up.

Steve nodded and went over to where Geo was pulling out things from his craft box and the two started to talk about what he had planned for the table decorations.  Bucky watched them for a moment before heading out, ruffling each of their hair as he went.  This whole parenting thing was tricky, but Bucky realized, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

// NEXT

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Creatures in the Woods || Morgan & Dani

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @surmamort & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan loses control. Dani walks a gray line.

CONTAINS: animal death, references to domestic abuse

The moose died from a blow to the head, bashed in when it hit a tree after being ambushed by a pack of wolves. The broken shards of skull pierced its brain and the bitter fluid that once protected its thoughts of soft meadows and sweet bark leaked out along with its blood and puddled on the ground and fed the soil until the grass wilted with its weight. When Morgan found it a day later, tense with dread, it was the brain-blood smell that pulled her off the trail of the rabbit she was hunting and into the ground. The last thing she noticed was the lullaby of the flies circling its head and the way the gore-slick skull fragments shone in the summer sun almost like porcelain. The last thing she felt was the mouth of death salivating inside her and the plunge of gravity when the ground falls away.

“Nnnnnggghh…” Morgan scraped the soaked ground with her mouth. The fluid made her appetite come alive. She growled, following the trail to the corpse. The wolves had torn away much of the muscle meat, but there were still crepe thin lungs dangling behind its ribs and a fat heart waiting to burst between her teeth. She tore her way through the carcass up and up until she was kneeling in it and tearing the skull apart to get to the brain. It was half eaten by scavengers but what little Morgan’s mouth could find made her moan with relief and a need for more.

Dani felt brittle in every sense of the word. Weak, weak, weak. Dani stood still in the small clearing she’d parked in. It was far enough away from the town’s edge that she felt it a good place to settle, at least until she either found somewhere else, or until she felt herself welcomed back home. It had only been a day, and yet, it felt like an eternity. In the back of her truck were a few different bags. Some with weapons, some with clothes, and some with food. She’d been out there a few weeks already, and while she’d been taught to live off the land in case of emergency, she needed to live quietly. There was a stream nearby that’d aid her in getting her hands on clean clothes.

She moved along the trail that seemingly only her feet traveled as she pursued the bubbling stream. She could hear it from where she was, but she could hear something else. Ahead of her laid a dead moose, its organs spilled from its insides-- or, what was left of them. It was picked clean, a crow to roadkill, all aside from its hide. It was ripped from the inside, blood smeared against the grass. It was so red. So was the individual ahead of it, bent over, hands gliding against sinew, fingers picking, digging for more. Dani felt her heart in her throat as she drew her crossbow and charged an arrow into the slot of it. She pulled back and leveled it with the zombie’s head, only to falter as she got a better look. Morgan Beck. Of fucking course. Dani watched as the woman dug for the moose’s brains, her fingers picking cleanly as if she’d done it before, or as if it were foreign and she was trying to be careful, the hunter couldn’t tell. It’d be easy, she realized. To kill Morgan now. She could end it here. The back and forth, the way that Dani’s skin crawled every time she saw her… It could all end here. The only issue? As soon as Morgan’s face flashed before her, Bex’s did too. The desperation in her friend’s face, the love that’d shown. Not only on Bex’s, but Morgan’s, too. The way that their care for one another was palpable. Dani felt like she was going to be sick, and not because of the gory scene laid out before her. She kept the bow raised out of her own protection but looked around them. Would Morgan try to attack her? She swallowed thickly before she pushed through the trees, closer to her. “Morgan,” Dani said, her voice leveled and careful.

There was only so much fluid and viscera Morgan could find. She tore the moose open, screaming with frustration. “NNrrrrggg!”  More. The ache. Feed meat. Eat death. She heard a sound and looked, sniffing and licking her lips. She was a mess of blood from her nose to her feet. Patches of moose fur cand bone chips stuck to her clothes and bristled in the hot wind as she crept forward. She growled. Somewhere, there had to be more. More meat. More death.

Dani stared ahead at Morgan as she turned, gore dribbling from her chin. It was caught in her hair, at the lapel of her shirt. She was… disgusting. The hunter swallowed thickly. The urge to shoot, to put Morgan down, numbed her fingertips and clawed at the back of her throat. She couldn’t, though. Every time she thought about it, the documents with her father’s name attached appeared. Each time she met Morgan, she’d known her to be unlike what she’d been taught about zombies, but this…? She was playing right into stereotypes and a part of it made Dani’s chest ache. She took a step back. “Morgan, what the fuck?”

Morgan shambled forwards, her mind beyond any language besides hunger. Death’s appetite needed more than an abandoned carcass could provide. Noise meant food. More. Eat. When she could get her hands around the noisy body and eat the pieces, maybe then it would be enough.

“Fuck,” Dani grunted as she stumbled backwards. Morgan moved towards her, mirroring that out of a horror film. She glanced over her shoulder. They were going deeper into the woods now, away from the stream. The clothes she meant to wash were left behind in a bag dropped at her side. She should kill her, she should just do it, the hunter thought. But Morgan wasn’t herself. Dani had seen Morgan. This was not her. What was she supposed to do? It was clear now that she was starving. Dani would need to get her something to eat. “Over here,” Dani decided to say as she moved off in the opposite direction, closer to the stream. Hopefully there’d be deer there, or maybe another moose, or literally anything.

The body moved and Morgan lunged. Her hunger drooled in her open mouth, teeth bared, but the only thing she caught was the air. She stumbled and followed the body. It wasn’t a quiet body. The grass and twigs screamed under its feet. Squirrels scattered up the trees. Morgan reached for them. What moved could die. What died could feed. But they escaped and Morgan grunted with desperate frustration and then there was nothing but the tall moving body ahead and the sustenance it promised.

Dani easily evaded Morgan’s lunge with a step backward. Immediately, the zombie became distracted by a few squirrels that scurried near the trunk of a tree. As Dani watched her, she felt the pit in her stomach grow. Ever since she’d found out what her father had been killed for, the idea of hunting had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Morgan before her, clearly not herself, only deepened the wound. Had her father died like this? Helping one of the many fae he’d been forced to experiment on? She blinked back the sudden anger that ripped through her and turned towards the stream, hitting a stick she’d picked up against a tree to gain Morgan’s attention again. The stream was a quiet trickle, and as Dani looked around, she saw nothing at its bank. A little further, they’d have to go a little further. She made sure to maintain a careful distance between herself and Morgan.

A guttural scream came from Morgan’s blood-stained mouth as the body evaded her. Her staggering steps grew quicker, angrier. There was life under her fee and the shrieks of feathered flying meat and in the rushing river. It splashed in swimming meat unseen. It panted in the distance on fur covered backs of meat that ran.But Morgan knew none of this. All she wanted was death. She would cannibalize herself for it if she could, her stomach clenched so desperately. But she would take the body dancing in front of her. She lunged, teeth bared, and caught the edges of Dani’s clothes.

Dani had seen starving zombies before. She’d taken care of them with chicken wire and a dagger into the brain. She knew all the steps. She could easily hide Morgan’s remains, but there was no way she’d do that, not when Dani knew how much this… zombie meant to Bex. She knew it was dangerous, too, what she was doing. For a moment, the hunter wondered what Bex would think, seeing Morgan like this. Could Dani hold it up in front of her, explain to her that this was what she was trying to protect the world from? But as much as Dani didn’t want to admit it, this was still Morgan Beck, brought to the brink of her existence as a zombie due to her hunger. What had happened? Dani wanted to know, but felt it futile. She was a monster-- the kind of creature that Dani’d been taught to slay, so why was she helping her now? Irritation festered, licking at her skin, once Morgan lunged at her. She shoved her shoulder into the zombie at her advances and side-stepped once again. “You’re making it really fucking hard to hel--” Dani froze at the sound of something. A deer. She saw it with her own two eyes.

Morgan only knew the pull of hunger. The body shoved her back, tripping her to the ground, but once there, she began to crawl. Her reach was short but her urge was swift. She clawed at the body’s clothes salivating for the closest thing to relief she knew.

Dani wanted to remark how pathetic Morgan looked. She wanted to be cruel, to be as callous as the brunette had been in the thrift store, but everything that the hunter wanted to say fell short on a venom filled tongue. She pressed her lips together and turned her attention to the deer. If she left Morgan out here, how long would it be until she found someone incapable of taking her down? Or… helping her? Dani took a deep breath as she aligned the bow with the deer and let the spring go. The arrow shot through, and the deer kicked up for a moment before making an awkward run towards the stream only to fall to its demise.

Morgan was trying to gnaw through the body’s clothes when the sound of fresh meat falling tore her attention away. It was big and fresh and red where it was pierced. It was motionless. It was silent as death. It was hers. She scrambled across the ground until she reached it and tore in. Her blunt teeth pulled up more soft hide than meat, but her hands wrenched the red spot open so the death meat could spill out. She couldn’t open it fast enough. The tissue went down so well, soft and soothing as love. She stopped once to choke down a liver. Once again to crack open the skull. The gray meat was the best meat. She ate it so desperately she ended up smearing some on her face trying to fit all of it through her mouth at once.

Time means nothing to hunger or death, and so it felt like nothing at all for Morgan to gorge herself until all the good flesh was picked from the bones and she fell over, sated.

But time means a great deal to people, and so when the rest of Morgan surfaced, the first thing she noticed was the new tint to the sky. Hours had slipped past her in a few hazy moments. The second thing she noticed was the blood and flesh staining her hands and nails, and the taste of raw flesh l in her mouth. Trembling, she looked down at the horror show splayed across her curled up body. If she could slip under again, if she could stop thinking, if she could not know-- but she did. Too well. Morgan screamed. “No, no, shit, no…” She tried to wipe her wet hands but there was hardly any part of her still clean.

Immediately, Morgan seemed drawn to the deer. At least it had worked. Dani watched silently as the zombie clambered towards her meal. The way that Morgan ripped open the deer with such ferocity, she wondered what kind of harm could be done unto a human. She wondered how far she would’ve gone, should it have been somebody not immune. It was clear that the zombie was not in her right mind. Dani had seen gore. She had seen death. She had pressed others’ organs into the stomachs until help came. She had seen brain matter and loosened veins and sinew and bone. She’d seen it all, but not like this. Dani swallowed down the bile in her throat and gave Morgan a moment of peace, willing herself to look away. It was sickening, allowing the zombie to exist like this, to not end it. But her father and what he’d died for, as well as Bex’s face, it all flickered before her. Weak, weak, weak. Jeanette’s voice rang loud. She gripped the crossbow tightly until the sound of Morgan’s fingers squishing through the meat of the deer had ceased.

Dani heard Morgan’s scream and it made her jump. Unprepared, she drew her bow again and took a step back. Morgan was searching herself, probably for her humanity. Dani watched her carefully, and even though she couldn’t see her face, she knew that the zombie was scared. She hated herself for doing this, for allowing this, but she had to. She couldn’t kill Morgan Beck. Morgan Beck was a zombie, but she… Dani clenched her jaw. She knew that the sight of her would be less than ideal, but it’d only be a matter of time until the zombie turned around. She instinctively lowered her bow and set it on the ground, lifting her hands. The last thing she needed was for Morgan to tell Bex she had pointed a bow at her in her greatest time of need. It went against everything she had learned, and against everything she knew, but she did it. With trembling hands, she held them up to where Morgan could see them, the sleeve of her own shirt shredded from Morgan’s desperation. “Morgan.” It was like last time, only softer. There was no anger, no rage. It felt weak in her throat, the words. They felt twisted and gutted.

Morgan jumped at the sound of her name. Her body hunched to hide itself, but it was no good, she was drenched and dirtied all over. When she saw who had called her, panic flooded her body. She scrambled backwards into the stream, panting and whimpering and struggling to hang onto any thought beyond No, please, I don’t want to die. No, please… She was screwed. She was thinking like prey and she’d lost her bag with her knife and her phone and she couldn’t concentrate and she was so, so screwed. But this is just what Odell had hoped for when she strong-armed all the butcheries in the county to stop selling to her, wasn’t it? At last she managed to say, “What do you want from me?” She just barely managed to keep her voice even, but she was kidding herself if she thought she could come off as a threat like this.

The shock and fear that splintered across Morgan’s features should have gone ignored, and Dani knew it. She should have felt nothing but contempt for this woman, this zombie. But the contempt did not come. Nor did the anger. What Dani felt was relief-- relief that the deer had been enough to satiate the monster in her. The bow was still on the ground, and though she had her dagger strapped to her forearm beneath her sleeve, she had no intent to actually use it. Morgan scrambled backwards and Dani stayed glued to the spot. She had no energy to fight, even if she wanted to, even if it came to that. Another flicker of Bex, another flicker of her father. She took a deep breath, but all she smelled was blood, and it was so red. “No, nothing.” She stayed put. “I…” Did she dare admit what she had done for Morgan? It wouldn’t matter, and Dani wasn’t sure if she cared whether or not Morgan understood what had happened. “I found you all fucked up. You kept trying to eat me or some shit, I dunno.” She shrugged. “I--” She looked towards the deer, bones and hide melting into the water. “Shot that for you.” She pursed her lips. “Then you came to.” Dani tried her best to keep her voice level.

Nothing Dani said to Morgan sounded plausible. But there was a deer, ravaged clean. Something in the bit of her stomach wanted to fall down and lick the hide, just in case, but it was just a whisper, and she could tell it no. Behind the deer was a trail of blood. And Dani’s clothes looked like they’d gone through a shredder on one side.

Had there been anyone else in between. Morgan couldn’t sense any aftertaste of human and she didn’t have any intrusive thoughts that felt strange but maybe she was too scared to know for sure, maybe she had already washed down the taste with all that deer. Morgan stood slowly and took another defensive step back. As much as she knew she shouldn’t take her eyes off an opponent, the smear of blood that led back through the woods held her gaze firmly.

“What was I--um--” Her voice was small and stammered so badly she had to stop and try again. “I remember a rabbit. I was hunting a rabbit. But I was me,” she added quickly. “I wasn’t like this, I was trying to catch it before I got like this. I haven’t--” Her voice broke again. “The butchers won’t sell to me anymore. Not anymore in the county. I tried. I did. And rabbits aren’t so filling but I didn’t want to lose it being picky but then--” She searched her mind. What had happened then? “There was something. Something big and half eaten and beautiful and I know it was an animal but I don’t remember what kind. Do you know if I-- if I might’ve done something to someone? In between?” She couldn’t live with wondering, and no one would tell her the truth like the slayer who hated her.

Dani kept her gaze on Morgan. Despite having helped her, maybe against her better judgement, she was a hunter. She had fought against her purpose. It felt wrong. She felt her skin tickle with the wrongs she committed in not taking Morgan down when she saw her that way. There’d been no telling whether or not Morgan had gotten to a human prior to their coincidental meeting, but Dani had to trust that what she’d done was the right thing. Not so much for Morgan, but for Bex. For the memory of her father, too. Still, Dani kept her hands where Morgan could see them. She felt silly. No matter how wrong it felt, Dani couldn’t kick the feeling that there was some part of it that’d been right, even if it was something she’d wrestle with in her days to come. “The butchers?” Dani raised a brow. So that was how Morgan got her… sustenance. That’s what she had meant by not being like what Dani thought-- not being animalistic, not like now.

The hunter could see the fear and the frustration on Morgan’s features. It was loud, even to somebody like Dani who normally wouldn’t care. As Morgan rambled, Dani continued to search the zombie’s features. Her gut continued to twist. Whether due to the smell of blood that laid thick and heavy in the air, or because she was allowing Morgan to explain herself. Finally, Dani pulled her gaze away and allowed it to settle onto her shoes. They were caked with mud and dirt, but it hadn’t ever been anything she cared too much about. “I don’t know, Morgan.” The name felt weighted differently on her tongue than before. The malice was gone. Exhaustion followed. “It was a moose that I saw you snacking on, you know. When I first came up on you.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I led you here because deer typically are down this way. It seemed like the best option.” Despite knowing how to kill zombies and that being her priority, the texts, and everything else that Dani had learned from, told her how to satiate, how to bring them to. She supposed scribes included that information due to their own conscious being flooded with guilt due to the idea of being accomplices to murder, even by word of mouth. “I can’t tell you if you killed anyone. I wouldn’t know.” I hope you didn’t, because then what the fuck am I doing here?

Morgan’s face crumpled at Dani’s non-answer, but she nodded and did not argue. A moose fit the description of the blurry creature she remembered, but she was only half sure and maybe that was only because she didn’t want to be a monster someone had a reason to hunt down. She waited for Dani to go on. To explain how she couldn’t be too careful. How, now that Morgan was conscious and could be ashamed of herself, she should tell Dani how right the hunter was before she received a quick shot to the head. But there was only silence between them.

Finally she turned her gaze away from the bloody path and back to the hunter. “Why did you bring me back?” She asked.

Everything was quiet now, aside from the sound of the gurgling stream, swallowing and spitting past the corpse of the deer that laid against the cool rush of water. She made a note to move it after they were done here. Dani tensed at Morgan’s question. She had an answer, but it felt… wrong, explaining that it had been for Bex. A part of it had been, but her father had been involved, too. If she hadn’t approached either Jeanette or Lauren prior to this meeting would Dani have reacted the same? She inhaled sharply through her nose and looked up at the sky, taking note of the birds that fled in a hurry from the top of one to another. “It felt wrong. Killing you. Like that.” The words came out stiff and her voice sounded small. After a moment, the hunter finally leveled her gaze back to Morgan’s. “I’ve seen you. Maybe not like you are right now, but when you’re…” Almost human. “Not… covered in blood.” She tested out the words, but they still felt wrong. “It seemed wrong.” She nudged a rock just next to her foot with the toe of her shoe as she looked back down. “And, I guess… for Bex?” It felt odd, passing up on her obligation for others. Would it have been what her father would’ve done? She had nothing to offer either Jeanette or Lauren, she realized. They had lied to her about her father, about how he had died. No matter how many times Jeanette’s voice hummed in her ear, she knew it to be wasted.

Morgan gave a bitter laugh that came out like a sob. It must have been a while since Dani had talked to Bex, or Bex was too generous to tell her new slayer friend how upset she really was with Morgan. She wasn’t sure how much she could believe that this child soldier of a hunter was suddenly having a change of heart, but she did understand what it meant to do something for someone else. And just how fickle that could be. Would Dani regret sparing her if Bex ever said, oh I'm never talking to Morgan again? Would she come back to finish the job and take the question off her conscience? The longer Morgan stayed, the closer she came to testing that out.

“Good to know,” she said flatly. “Are you going to tell her about this?”

Dani was exhausted. There was no denying that. She wondered if Morgan could see her lethargy. The laugh that escaped the zombie caught her off guard and she took a small, tentative step backwards before she halted. She swallowed thickly and looked at Morgan once again. “Am I going to tell…” Dani thought for a moment. It would benefit her. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Bex would be compassionate to Morgan’s situation, maybe it’d backfire. Dani hadn’t thought about telling Bex, not until Morgan brought it up. As far as she knew, it would be better that Bex didn’t see somebody who she cared about like this. At their lowest, at their most detrimental. “No.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s not my shit to tell. I’m a hunter, not a gossip.” She lowered her hands finally and crossed them against her chest. She dug her fingers into her forearms. “Why did your access to the butchers get taken away?” Dani had known very little about how zombies sustained themselves aside from eating living, breathing, innocent humans. At least, that’s what had been fed to her. If Morgan was telling the truth, then it meant she went against every urge she had to tear into a random human’s skull. It meant that all this time, she’d been telling the truth. Hell, the zombie had even admitted to hunting rabbits.

Morgan’s laughter spilled out a little easier this time and sounded even more defeated. “I tried to talk Bex into leaving her parents’ house. And then when her mother came by to gloat about taking away my office and my job security, we got into it and I tried to make it so she couldn’t hurt Bex for a while. But that seriously backfired and now--” She splayed her arms out, showing what she had so easily been reduced to.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t have her head cleaved off in the next few minutes, Morgan knelt in the stream and started rinsing herself off as much as she could. “She warned me. Both of them. But I figured I’d lost everything enough times over to learn how to deal.” But she hadn’t been a zombie with a conditional grip on her humanity for any of those other times. As bad as things got when she was alive, she’d never been put in a place like this.

If Dani weren’t so concerned for the words that came out of Morgan’s mouth, then she might have found it odd that they were able to have a conversation like this. At the end of the day, the two of them cared for the same person. Bex had become increasingly important to Dani, and ever since she’d almost lost her to Frank… Dani would do virtually anything to protect her. To protect anyone she cared for, really. Bex was strong, there was no doubting that, but it had become apparent that she thought she deserved to be hurt, and it was now obvious to Bex who the other perpetrator was. Her mother.

“That’s where Bex is now, right?” Dani ground her teeth. She could hear it in her ears and feel it in her jaw, the anger she put into the movement. “After--” She wasn’t sure if she should mention this, but Dani kept replaying Morgan’s expression then, and even now. One thing was for certain, Morgan Beck cared for Bex. “After Frank attacked her, after I got her to the hospital. I got thrown out of the hospital and Bex started to cry about how she couldn’t be found by her. I figured it was her mom, but I didn’t…” She felt disturbed. Was it right airing this information to Morgan? Though, she’d already been so much with Bex’s mother. Dani dug her fingers deeper into her forearms. “I didn’t know how bad it was.” Frank wasn’t Bex’s only concern. What kind of mother was she to hurt somebody who genuinely cared for her daughter? What kind of things did she hold against Bex?

Morgan stopped washing. “Frank what?” But why? There was no reason to use him to keep Bex in line. And stars above, she was with a boy even more closeted than she was. Wasn’t that torture enough? It didn’t make sense. Morgan realized too late that she’d revealed how out-of-the-loop she was, but that was bound to come out sooner or later, wasn’t it? She looked down at the blood still caked under her fingernails and felt the weight of her helplessness all over again.

“Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you had. Bex is too scared of this happening to someone else to let them in. And you hunters never lift a finger against a human no matter how horrible and dangerous they are.” She went back to splashing her face clean. Her warbled reflection in the water made her look like someone’s nightmare demon. It was a shame she couldn’t give this face to Odell and make her keep it.

Dani swallowed hard. It felt wrong, airing out Bex’s dirty laundry like this. But Dani had tried to help. It had taken Bex awhile to finally accept her help, but it’d only been recent, and she hadn’t actually gotten to any of the actual protecting parts of it all. “He…” She reached up to scratch idly at the back of her neck. “Stabbed her. She took the knife out.” Dani left alone how odd it seemed that Bex hadn’t relayed any of this information to Morgan, but decided against bringing it up. A wild guess told Dani that the two weren’t exactly on speaking terms, and Dani wondered if that had anything to do with Bex leaving with her, especially when Morgan had begged for Bex to go with her. “Bex said that it’s her ex-boyfriend.”

Morgan’s words struck Dani, but she swallowed the urge to bite back. She had no energy to do so. She’d been drained. Lauren and Jeanette’s words lingered, as did that fucking Prince song. It was on a constant loop. The distraction Morgan brought was welcome, believe it or not. “Yeah, well..” She trailed off before picking back up a moment later as Morgan stared into the water. “It’s in the code. We’re not meant to hurt humans.” Dani thought about her father. Despite him being a hunter, he’d been human, but they took him out regardless. Dani felt a pang of anger and it began to fester. “But I’m starting to figure out not all hunters feel that way. Frank is one, but he tried to kill Bex, so.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “She asked me… to protect her. Or be around her more. I don’t know.” It felt like a lifetime ago that Bex had asked such a thing, even if it’d only been a few days.

“Your hunter code is just a way of keeping things simple and shirking off responsibility for your actions. I’ve met a few of you by now and I haven’t found one decent hunter who wasn’t thinking for themself and using their own ‘code’ whether they admit it or not.” Morgan said, finally calming down enough to feel angry. She stood up from the stream, knowing this was as good as it was going to get, and started trudging out of the water. “No offense, but if your code says I deserve to die more than Odell Ochsenstein, I think it’s pretty bullshit.”

When she was back on solid ground she stopped and gave Dani a good long look for the first time. “Are you going to? Protect her? Because from over here, it looks a lot like everyone who’s ever beaten and used her is a hundred percent whole-grain human. What’s your plan for that?”

“I don’t do that,” Dani snapped. She carded a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. The hunter squeezed her eyes shut. Getting into an argument with Morgan wouldn’t help the situation. Bex was clearly in more trouble than Dani had originally thought, and by helping Morgan, Dani had uncovered just that. “I don’t do that. I don’t-- I don’t want to be like that. I only…” She swallowed thickly. Why couldn’t she push her father out of this? She hadn’t even known him, but she knew his stupid smile, and the cruel way in which he died. He had tried to help others, not even humans. Was she more his daughter than she was Jeanette’s? Despite never knowing him? “That’s…” She cleared her throat. “I’m not trying to kill you anymore, so.” She knew it didn’t solve for the time she had.

Morgan’s question made Dani’s skin crawl. “Of course I am.” She knew the implications. Frank was a hunter. Her mother was human, or at least that’s what Morgan had implied. Dani didn’t actually know any of that. “She’s…” Dani took another deep breath. “Important. To me. To other people.” Dani picked at the fabric at the hem of her shirt for a moment before dropping her hand away. “There’s a community of us. They’ll know what to do. But I won’t kill him. I’ll make it impossible for him to hurt her again, but I won’t kill him.” Dani looked up at Morgan evenly. “I’m afraid that Bex might try. She doesn’t know what it means to kill someone.”

Morgan wasn’t very comforted by what Dani had to say, but it had been so long since she’d felt soothed she wasn’t surprised. She shook her head. “You mean you’re not trying to kill me right now. Because I’m a well of useful information and you don’t want to make Bex cry. If I gave up everything I knew, if you called her up and she said she kinda hates me now for how badly I screwed up, that would change. Because I’m not a person to you. I’m something that used to belong to Bex.” She started walking back the way she’d come. The one good thing about her demon zombie self was that she knew how to leave a good trail home.

“Do your best to keep her hands clean,” she called over her shoulder. “Because, murderer to murderer, we both know she doesn’t deserve to learn how to carry someone’s life on her conscience.”

Dani steeled herself against the cruelty that Morgan provided. Logically, the hunter knew that Morgan did not owe her kindness. Dani didn’t even want it. Not really. What she wanted was to not see her mother’s gaze, but it was embedded now, even in Morgan’s features. Weak, weak, weak, weak. Dani closed her eyes and tried to focus on the beat of her heart and the way it felt in her throat, in the tips of her fingers, in her ears. She could hear Morgan’s footsteps fade, and only then did she open her eyes. The young hunter watched as the very thing she should want to put into the ground walked away, following the carnage she had created. Unable to provide an answer, she reached down for her bow and turned on her heel, moving toward the deer’s corpse. She dragged it out of the water and started back towards her truck. Morgan Beck was wrong. She had to be.

[itismarvelicious]

In some kind of Jumanji way, Tony comes back in the far future, like very far future after some kids found an infinity stone. Doesn't really matter how or which one, it's the far future so we don't know any of it cause we don't know how many things happened since Tony died and the present. So Tony comes back in a world he doesn't recognize anymore. In a world the people don't even know him anymore.

"Who are you?", one of the kids ask.

"Tony Stark".

The kids remain silent like okay, that doesn't help us at all.

"Iron Man?"

The kids: ?

"The universe's savior? I defeated Thanos?"

"Who's Thanos?"

"Isn't that a villain in a comic book?"

Tony frowns. "I'm on earth, right?"

"Yeah"

"What year is it exactly?"

"4183"

Tony stumbles.

"Wow. You're okay?"

"Nope. What city are we in?"

"New York."

"It doesn't look like New York."

"So are you like, a genie? We found you and freed you and that makes us your masters? Can we give you three wishes each?"

"1, I'm a genius but not a genie; 2, I'm the one who's gonna be giving the wishes and I want you to take me to the NY sanctum, that thing must still exist AND I want you to buy me an American cheeseburger."

"What's that?"

"You gotta be kidding me."

Anyway, they go to the sanctum. The new guy there says he can't help him go back to his time but he knows of someone who can help. Thor arrives. He's super happy to see Tony.

"How long has it been, like a hundred years?", he says as he hugs him.

"Ugh, more or less."

Thor puts a heavy hand on Tony's shoulder. "So. I thought you were dead."

"Yeah. Turns out death isn't that peaceful."

"It only is when its time has truly come."

"What?"

"Something Loki taught me. Come, I'll give you a glimpse of your legacy."

"No one knows who I am, apparently."

"But your impact lives. It's okay, you know, no one remembers the name of the shortest-reigning Asgard king in history. Valkyrie totally eclipsed me."

So anyway, Thor shows Tony around. That night Tony sleeps at the hotel under the name of Howard Potts. Can't fall asleep. Remembers his conversation with Thor at dinner.

"How did they live?", Tony asked in the middle of a silence.

Thor dropped his fork, had a little smile, knowing what Tony meant. "Long", he replied.

"Happily?"

Thor sighed. Tony looked down.

So he gets up and takes a car, I don't really care whose, let's assume they borrowed a car during the day. Arrives some time later at the lake house. It's empty and dark, doesn't look inhabited. As he gets out of the car, memories fill the place like ghosts. He sees the happy times of Pepper, Morgan and him, until his own memory slowly disappears and three becomes two and the happy place becomes this dark and empty place again.

In the sanctum, where the stone the kids found is now hidden, the stone glows brighter and brighter. From outside, the sanctum trembles.

Thor finds Tony in the lab. It's dawn.

"Been working, huh?"

"Yeah. The mind's busy. There's still a lot of things I can use in here. Anyone else lived here after us?"

"Yeah. Parkers."

Tony raises an eyebrow, then chuckles. And goes back to whatever he's fixing on his workbench.

"You're planning on going back, are you?", Thor asks.

"I don't belong here."

"There might... Be one thing we need your help with before."

They're at the sanctum. There's a big hole in the roof, like when Hulk fell from the sky.

"We suspect whatever was there came out of that stone you came out of yesterday. Any idea what it could be?"

"Yeah. It's a chitauri."

The sorcerer squints. "The chitauris have been extinct for two thousand years."

"Well I guess I've been running away from them for two thousand years."

It's Thor's turn to squint. "When you said death wasn't peaceful..."

Tony paces the room, sits on the armchair in a corner. "When I snapped and died... I found myself in this world. I supposed that was the afterlife. Except I took everyone else with me. All those who were snapped and me, we didn't really die. And even when we died in that world, we... Couldn't die. I fought at first and when I realized that, I hid. And planned my way out. Looks like they found my way out."

"The stone."

"Yeah. I guess it would've never worked had no one found it to activate it on the other side."

We see the arc reactor floating down the water after Pepper slips it on the lake at the funeral, floating further and further away until it sinks to the bottom of the lake and rolls down slowly, passing the various weathers and passing time, disintegrating slowly, forming a smaller round shape, until someday that small round shape glows again, still travelling for some time until finally, a kid picks it up, drawn by this underwater glow.

"Tony. You created an infinity stone. A ressurection stone." Thor looks more proud than surprised.

"I created a portal. And I didn't close it."

Thor snorts. "Yeah, it's just chitauris, this should be solved in a minute."

There's a crack sound and a blinding light. Loud steps are heard. Tony breathes loudly.

"I told you I'd always find you, Stark."

There's shrieks and other deafening sounds around there, coming in louder and quicker like a flood. There's a lightning and Tony's projected backwards as the sanctum blows up. Among the flames, Thanos. In the grey smoke around him, his alien army.

"How interesting does the game become when it's real", Thanos says, walking forward slowly. "How should I kill you this time? Crush your skull against the wall? Tear your heart out of your body again? Cut your head off?"

"The only head off will be yours", Thor says, throwing stormbreaker. "Run!"

Tony runs, but towards the sanctum as Thor fights Thanos one on one. There, he looks for a weapon and finds a sword. Just as he takes it from the wall, something arrives behind him and Tony blocks the alien's pointy arm with his sword. Tony's become good at sword fighting just because I love sword fights and I want to see sword fights in superhero movies. So Tony's become good at it because he's got two milleniums of self training.

Anyway then Thor and Tony meet again, fight side by side, and then there's more noise coming, people in superhero suits appear, and lights in the smoky sky - iron armours.

"What's this?", Tony asks.

"Your legacy", Thor says with a proud smile.

Carol, Valkyrie and Nebula show up too. Loki too, as a frost giant because I'm mad we didn't see that in Endgame. There's webs being cast around Tony to protect him, a captain America shield being thrown, etc etc.

Tony keeps looking for something in the sanctum, still sword fighting the villains who come in his way, until he finds it again, the arc reactor stone, and he holds it in his fist, squeezing tightly. "Come on, please work". The walls collapse around him and in front of him, revealing Thanos behind it. Thanos smiles and with rapidity, throws a dagger at Tony, that hits his heart just as the nanosuit finishes wrapping itself around his body. The dagger falls to the ground. And Tony rises.

"Well hello, Mr Stark", a voice says in his helmet.

"Who are you?"

"A Stark."

Anyway, the fight ends with Nebula killing Thanos as it should be.

Once the fight is over, everyone is on the ground. Every iron people nanotech their suit away, I don't know how to say that. There's a hell lot of them. "So which one of you is a Stark?", Tony asks.

Several of them raise their hands, then step to the front. Among them, there's Riri Williams. Well that's up to you, I don't know much about her but I liked the idea that she could have very old Starks ancestors. Oh oh, or maybe she could have Rhodes ancestors! Maybe a Rhodes and a Stark at some point got more than friends. And then the daughter married a Williams, really whatever you want.

"The Iron Army is one of the most famous and respected in the universe", Thor explains.

The kids at the beginning just didn't really know about it because Earth has been one of the most peaceful planets in a long time.

Also there's a spider kid who introduces himself as a Parker and he looks exactly like Peter. Or he looks like the Peter Parker from into the spider-verse, that could be fun. Up to you.

Anyway. After that Tony manages to build the time travel stuff again and Thor helps him go back in time. "Have a happy life, Tony".

Tony arrives in 2023 right after his funeral. Everyone's gone. Tony knocks at the door. They reunite properly, with tears of happiness and kisses and then Tony says, holding them in his arms, "we're gonna live long. And happily." The end, I have no idea what I just wrote and I'm sorry for the plot holes, I definitely got carried away.

[idjitlili]

Legolas x reader

I am so tired I stayed up till 5 am last night reading so sorry if this shit. It is shit, Idont know what happened

Imagine somehow being teleported into Tolkien’s ,the hobbit, and you end up meeting legolas and Thranduil. In which you insult thranduil, Thorin is sorta your daddy.

You have been travelling with the company since the trolls tried to eat everyone. You had quite literally came out of a floating , flame coloured line. Only to walk into the tree. A troll had picked you up and attempted to eat you as-well , but you really didn’t care, as you was focusing how your head hurt from the tree.

After explaining your situation to Gandalf , which he ended up believing that you weren’t from here, due to your clothing, and strange sayings. Plus the evidence that all the dwarves and a Hobbit had seen you magically appear.

Thorin didn’t like having a teenage girl , with barely any self defence skills , to come with on their adventure, mission, thing. Yet he felt like he had to protect you from harm, surprisingly since you saw how he treated Bilbo. Uh basically he’s your dad.

The first night with the company , they had all offered you blankets , food (lucky Bombur makes a lot.) , the princes had given you some of their extra tunics. Which they had a lot because dwarves likes to wear layers. Too bad they weren’t green.

Dori acted like a mother to you , he would make sure you ate , and even got Ori to make you knitted goods. The dwarves thought you you would freeze to death , as dwarves didn’t get as cold as humans. Something to do with their build or something, you recall Balin telling you.

You became quick friends with Bilbo, he was interested in where you were from, and what it was like there.

Kili and fili teased you for your weird obsession with potatoes, as you mostly ate them, and you even had gone far enough to make a potato ring. (I actually did)

Now you and the company are In Mirkwood forest , unaware to what is going to strike, soon.

Kili and fili ,stood either side of you in a protective manner. For hours the company had been walking through Mirkwood, Thorin denying any assumptions that they were lost.

You grunt , at the blisters that are forming on your feet , that are sweating in your trainers.

“My legs hurt.” You moan , quietly dragging out hurt.

Kili scoffs at you , “your legs are longer , imagine how mine feel.”

You look at Bilbo who is lagging behind,

“Well you can’t say anything , Bilbos legs are as long as my dick.”

“OI y/n, i dont have no legs.”

“I never said that , my dick is hugeeeeee.”

“You don’t have a dick .” Bofur responds loudly , with annoyed tone.

“How would you know if she had a dick. You haven’t seen it.” Kili responds sending you a wink.

“Yeah thank you , my dick is in my head.”

“How would it fit though?” Fili inquires , with a confused facial expression.

“I meant my personality you jensen Ackles , and John travolta blend!” You reply smirking to yourself .’Boom roasted’ not that he would get the joke.

Unknown the rest of the company Bilbo had climbed up a tree to look for a way out of mirkwood. The air felt limited in the poisoned forest , you felt chills go up your back, shivering slightly.

“Thorin...” you speak slowly, as you spot a eight legged spider, approach in the distance. It was bigger than a sheep, teeth like knives, beads for eyes.

Thorin grabs you and makes sure you are behind him, before you know it , all the dwarves plus you are surrounded. You unarmed, stay close with thorin , so you don’t die.

Suddenly the spiders are everything, no escape, the spiders are travelling down by webs and pulling up the dwarves , who don’t see it coming because they are too busy fighting the ones on the ground. When they are pulled up , they are wrapped into a webbed cocoon.

Thorin grabs a hold of you and pulls you into his jacket , then you are both slung up into the air, you become dizzy from being wrapped up in the webbing. Then you and thorin are in just stuck. For what it seems like forever.

Until , you feel yourself falling down slowly from the trees, the cocoon is ripped open by thorin. You get up looking around there are several, other cocoons with dwarves crawling out of them. You look around to see there are still spiders everywhere, you look to the floor and see thorins swords , picking up quickly you pass it to him. he nods with appreciation and passes you a dagger.

I guess you have no chance but try to help , otherwise the others will die because you were too scared to take a chance.

‘You miss 100% the shots you don’t take -Wayne Gretzky-Michael Scott -y/n l/n’

Before you can even look around for a target , you are rugby tackled to the ground, by a disgusting excuse of one of Morgan freeman’s creations.(I think he’s god uh)

You pull your arm out of its grasp, with your ,sorry thorins dagger in hand , before the poison from the spider can be injected. You stab it the face , its body goes stiff around you curling. You push it off gagging at its texture, you pull yourself off the floor only to be tackled again.

This time the dagger had been knocked out of your gasp , desperately you try to reach it buts in use, the creature pushes you down hard. You pull up your leg and kick as hard as you can, it lands on the left of you. You finally able to grab the dagger going to kill the spider, but someone beats you to it , FIring an arrow through its head.

You look up to see a blonde dude, why is he wearing leggings. Weirdo, your brother accidentally put your leggings on ,once and ripped the crotch how he didn’t notice

he doesn’t own leggings. I do not know.

Snapping you out of your thoughts , you are dragged up, dagger snatched out of your hand, and you are roughly pushed towards the group.

“Don’t you touch her again , or I’ll make sure your everlasting life does t last.” Thorin snaps at the ginger elf that had man handled you. What a bitch.

“Oh is this human your girlfriend?awwe.” The blond elf snickers at Thorin, kili and fili gag at the thought of their uncle being in a relationship.

“Uh princess , yeah you with the dance pants. Treat the king of erebor with a little respect. Assbutt.” You glare at the blond, who tended at your words. Haha loser.

“There is no king under the mountain not will there ever be.” He replies , scowling at you.

“Yes , there will be , princess.” He scoffs.

———————————————————

The blonde elf that you soon discover his name is legolas ,and he is the kings sOn.

Bilbo was missing , aand the company were led to the woodland realm. You could only hope that he would find a way for us to escape.

You and Thorin were spilt from the other dwarves, we were brought to the king. He stuck a deal with Thorin who declined. This king was as dickhead , and narcissistic. Legolas is stood next to you just in case you tried anything .

“Take him alway, ill take to his girlfriend now.” The woodland king states to his guard smoothly.

You scoff.

“ I am literally 18, you perv.”

You feel his ice eyes , stare at you , judging , your whole life, your clothing.

“You are not from here are you,child?” He must of noticed your keanu reeves shirt.

“No”

“tell me why you travel with these dwarves.”

“Why, I like them.”

He scoffs “they are scum, pigs , thieves.” He growls at you , circling you.

“Oi princess , this is your daddy?” You ask legolas who refuses to meet your eye.

“ all I can say is, at least thorin actually loves me and he’s not even my real dad.” Thranduils jaw clenched so hard that he probably could bite your head off.

“We are NOT talking about my son we are talking a bout you.”

“ okay listen here you self obsessed prick, I don’t give a shit about what you want, so cut the shit and get to the point.”

“ I want you to get my the gems of starlight,Thorin won’t expect it from you, I’ll let you all go.”

You feel bad for legolas his dad is soulless, makes him do everything while , he sits on his throne , acting like Gaston.

“No, I am not doing that to my friends, If you wasnt such an asshole and helped Thorin when Azog attacked them he probably would’ve given them to you. But you didn’t. So you suck”

Thranduils faces fled with red , he was angry he whipped his head to towards you.

“Get her to her cell now, legolas.”

“Just saying who risks their own sons life on a forest that clearly can’t be saved,”

“My sons well being doesn’t concern you. Human.”

“You clearly haven’t got love with son. You need to get yourself a girl mat-“

you are interrupted by a slap in the face.

“Well that was a girly move, who slaps , go punch me instead.”

Legolas pulls you out of the rooms quickly, not allowing things to worsen, walking you towards the cells.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?”

He stops and looks at you,” because he will probably execute your friends.”

“Doubt it , he wants them gems , then he needs someone to kill the dragon.” You speak carefully walking down the stairs.

He hummed in response.

After you walked into your cell,you turned and smiled at him. You knew he wasn’t as mean as he portrayed himself as.

“Uh sorry for making fun of your trousers ,” you whispered so thorin didn’t hear , he would skin him.

He smiled lightly “sorry my Ada slapped you.”

“It was a bitch move not going to lie. “ you reach up to my face that still stung, You grin.

“I have no doubt you are going to escape.” He whispers.

“Yes sir. Stay safe princess,savvy?”

———————————————————

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh” you let out , as the water in the river splashed you hard in the face.

“Why is this so fun, yet we are still being hunted.” You throw up arms like you are on a ride in a theme park, until an arrow flies at yodu and almost hits you.

You turn to see legolas , you wave to him. He just keeps running after you and the dwarves , saying our butts , see he was a good dude.

Because of you distracting legolas , he couldn’t see an orc going to hit Tauriel. She got punched square in the nose , falling into legolas , whodidn’t see it coming and fell in the water.

For elves being graceful, that wasn’t ,but fortunately he landing in the water right near you. You reach in the water and some how pull him up so he’s holding onto the barrel. You lean back so it doesn’t tip his way. Still does. He’s stuck in the water with you. You offer him a smile.

“How was your fall?” You ask him.

“Into the water ? Amazing.” He replies grunting.

‘No falling from heaven”

“Oh.” He blushes

[sierraraeck]

Break (Pt.1)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: As the situation for Spencer in prison continues to get worse, Aundreya has to come up with something to save him and fast. Story fourteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mentions of drugs and homicide. Sexualized comments.

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: Just a reminder that I don’t actually know how prisons work.

All bad things happen at 3am.

I am convinced.

If you can get to 4am, you are in the clear, but until then, 3am is coming to bite you in the ass.

The last time I got a call at 3am, it was to inform me that Derek’s cousin was missing and we had to save her.

This time, it was to let me know that Spencer was in critical condition in the prison infirmary.

I was the first one at the office other than Hotch who made the calls. The rest of the team wasn’t too far behind me, all walking in with the utmost sense of urgency.

Except for Derek.

Who was pissed.

“I thought you said that those things were going to help him!” he spat in my direction. Derek, Aaron, and I had kept our promise on not telling the rest of the team how bad of a condition Spencer was in, and I didn’t let either of them in on my plan with the chains and fake backstory until Derek figured it out and told Aaron.

The rest of the team stopped in their tracks to try and understand what he was talking about. “Yes, they were supposed to and they have for weeks,” I replied, attempting to stay calm.

“That’s not good enough. Instead of protecting him, you put a target on his back,” he accused.

“Woah, calm down-” Prentiss tried.

“I am not going to calm down! Reid got stabbed, Emily. He almost died! And it’s because of her,” he said, turning his fiery gaze on me again.

“That is not fair,” I dropped my voice almost to a whisper and my nostrils were flaring.

“Oh really? Because I think that those guys wouldn’t have made an elaborate plan to kill him if he’d just kept his head down. Those bracelets of yours drew attention to him and they probably hurt him only to get back at you for whatever the hell you did to them,” he said. His voice was cold and dry, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. If Spencer would have been better off without me altogether. The answer had to be yes.

I was thankful for Emily’s persistence to understand because she saved me from having to respond. “What are you talking about?”

“Chambers here went to visit Reid. She gave him those bracelets and rings of hers that identify her as The Figure, or the gang-slash-ring leader or whatever. She told him to wear them and to ‘drop the innocent act’ and to tell other inmates that he was associated with her. Look where that got him.”

“It’s not her fault, Morgan. That could have happened to him either way, and it could have happened sooner had he not had those with him,” Prentiss tried. She was one of the best people who could get through to Morgan, but this time, it didn’t seem to be working.

“Or it could have not happened at all. I guess we’ll never know considering she continues to make decisions about his safety without input from the rest of us,” he hissed.

“You’re right, we won’t know,” Hotch said, emerging from his office. “All we have now is that it happened and we have to move on and try to do what’s best for him. Which includes working together to solve this case and get his name cleared. Understand?”

Derek sent one more dagger through me with his eyes before looking up at Hotch, “Yes.”

“Chambers?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Rossi is on his way to visit Reid and update us along the way. The rest of us need to look harder at this case,” Hotch said.

We all headed up to meet him in the briefing room and Prentiss quickly caught up to me. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Don’t let him make you feel bad about it. You were just trying to help.”

“Thanks Emily, but he’s right. I wasn’t being helpful,” I let out a small sigh and shook my head, “and it never seems like I am.”

With that, we entered the room and got to work.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“So all we have is Reid talking to Corbyn Young, a kid who was a part of Aundreya’s ring who ended up dead only hours after Reid talked to him because he thought Corbyn was stalking him, and a sketchy message from someone who she’s pissed off?” JJ confirmed, gesturing my way.

Morgan scoffed under his breath, “Yeah, that really narrows it down.” I didn’t even bother to glare at him.

“Chambers, can you think of anyone in particular that would do something this intricate?” Hotch asked.

“Yes. Like half of the people from my past,” I said, confirming what Morgan stated. Hotch sighed.

“We’ve been going over all of this and looking into more angles for weeks and we are no closer to getting him out that we were when we started,” JJ huffed.

“This sonuvabitch is thorough,” Morgan said.

I sat there going over every single person I thought was capable of doing this, hoping I could think of anyone other than who I’d already suspected.

My train of thought was interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Yes?” Hotch answered. There was a mumbling on the other line before Hotch paused and said, “He’s going to be fine. He just woke up.” A collective sight spread throughout the room. “Yeah… Are you sure?... Anything else we need to know?... What do you think?... Sure… Yes, that is true… I’ll let her know. Thanks Dave.” With that, he hung up and turned to look at me. “He wants to see you.”

“What?” Derek, JJ and I all blurted at the same time.

Hotch and Prentiss exchanged an unreadable look.

“Head down there. We will continue without you,” is all he told me. I nodded, and quickly scanned the reactions around me. Confusion, disgust, betrayal, concern. A mixture of some or all of those.

But there wasn’t much time to think through it. I just left the remaining five of them to their work and headed for the prison.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“Hey Doctor Genius,” I said as I slipped into the infirmary. Rossi was sitting in a chair next to him.

“Hey,” he said, sitting further up.

“I thought we agreed that this wouldn’t happen again,” I playfully scolded. He quirked one side of his mouth up.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to keep showing up to help me,” he said. It was meant to be a joke, and I knew that the time he got shot wasn’t what he was trying to get at, but it was all I could think about when he said ‘help me.’ I vividly remembered what happened the last time I offered to help him.

But I played along. “Maybe I should start charging.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Rossi accused. I let a small laugh escape my lips as Rossi got up to leave. “I’ll be back.”

Once he left, I occupied the seat he’d just vacated. “Darrell?”

“Yeah.”

“And his two friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

Instead of answering, he exposed his stomach to me. There were two wounds with stitches through them. One was just to the left of his belly button and the other was just above it, forming a line about two inches long. If I had to guess, the scar ended right where his ribs started.

“They compliment your other one,” I commented.

“Thanks,” he said, covering himself back up.

We sat in silence for a while before the question I’d had for almost two months starting nagging at the back of my mind. I wanted to wait for the right time to ask, but I really didn’t think that would ever come. So I just went for it.

“How was your date with Maeve?”

He was thrown for a loop. His eyes got wide and he furrowed his brow. Clearly this was not the question he was expecting. “It was fine.”

“Fine? That’s all?” I gave him an encouraging smile.

“I showed up, she almost got all the way to the restaurant when I thought I saw her stalker.”

“Her stalker?” I was astonished. He’d never mentioned this before.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s why we didn’t plan to meet sooner and why I have to call her on payphones. It’s because she has a stalker,” he tried to sound matter-of-fact, but I detected the disappointment behind the statements.

“Oh Spence,” I said. His nickname just slipped out and he noticed, but I kept going. “I’m so sorry. What made her wanna meet, then?”

“She thought they were gone. She thought she was in the clear, but when I showed up, there was a man who just kept looking over at me and I got worried and called it off.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

“Me too,” he said, dropping his gaze.

“Is there anything I can do?” I offered. It was a long shot, but I figured I might as well put it out there.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that you haven’t been able to contact her for weeks, and she’s got to be worried. If I can call or check up on her…” I trailed off, not really knowing what I’d do. I was hoping he had an idea.

“Um, I don’t know. I don’t want her to know about … this,” he said.

“I understand that. I can leave that part out and just assure her you’re okay and that you didn’t just fall off of the face of the Earth,” I suggested.

“Yeah. I guess. I just don’t know how she’d feel about me giving her number to someone else, you know?”

It was a valid point and I could tell he was conflicted. “It’s up to you. I will do whatever you want.”

He sat there pondering before answering, “No. As much as I don’t want her to worry, I won’t risk her safety.”

“Okay. That’s a good choice,” I said, granted, I would have agreed with his decision either way.

“Do you guys have anything?” he asked.

I tried to ignore how desperate his eyes were when I replied, “We’re working on it.”

“Okay.”

“But I have a plan,” I said. His eyes snapped right back to mine. “Please, just hold on for a little bit longer.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to get you out of here,” I whispered.

Realization struck his eyes. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Of course it is. I will be in and out,” I promised.

“You could get caught,” he pleaded.

“I won’t. They didn’t catch me the first time, they won’t catch us the second time.”

“Us?” his level of concern was on the rise.

“I’ve got a round trip ticket and you’ve got a one-way out.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s the best one we have.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” he breathed.

“I’m not sure there is. And I’d rather have us both be on the run than leave you in here and have you end up dead, knowing I could have done something more.” He had nothing to say to that, so I finished with, “One of those situations you can get out of, the other one you can’t. Buying you, and the team, more time to clear your name is the best case scenario.”

I saw his eyes flick towards the door and I turned around to see Rossi approaching.

I rushed, “Don’t worry about it. Just keep yourself in here and in solitary as long as you can. I’m coming to get you.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I signed myself up to go back to my least favorite place on Earth.

Prison.

The problem was, that if I was going to break him out, I very well couldn’t do it as a visitor. I would have to become a bit more involved. As much as I didn’t want to, being an inmate again was going to be the easiest way in and out.

That being siad, I had to do something that would warrant me going to prison, without being something super extreme like murder. White collar crimes would take too long to set up, so I was thinking theft? Vandalism? Destruction of private property? Trespassing? Drug dealing?

While those were all viable options, I had one that seemed even better. Or maybe worse. But definitely quicker, more effective, and immediately on hand.

Assaulting an FBI agent.

Granted, I was an FBI agent, so it might seem more like a workplace quarrel, but I went into it with a Plan A, a Plan B, and of course a Plan C.

I arrived back at the office, but waited in the parking lot for my text to be delivered.

It only took a couple of minutes before Derek Morgan was exiting the building, approaching me at a rapid pace.

“I got your text, what’s up?”

“Hit me.” It was a simple command but one that obviously didn’t make sense to him.

“What?” Derek’s eyes got wide.

“Hit me!” I said louder, as if my volume change would help him understand. When he continued to look at me dumbfoundedly, I blew an irritated breath out of my nose, then hit him right in his perfectly chiseled jaw. It kinda hurt. “I said hit me!”

As he recovered, he turned around and tossed a fist at my head, which I easily ducked under. I was honestly surprised he was willing to come at me after only one punch, but I guess his anger and disgust for getting his younger brother hurt overpowered his usually clean conscience. That, or my commanding and urgent tone really convinced him to do what I asked. Potentially both.

“Oh come on, Derek,” I taunted, “That can’t possibly be your best.”

He wiggled his jaw, but took a step back. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I am not going to do this.” I guess he’s stronger than I thought.

He turned to walk away, but I came up behind him and swept his legs out from under him. He landed on his ass and had the wind knocked out of him.

“The first rule of fighting is to never turn your back to your opponent,” I said with a condescending tone. I gave him room to stand up, which he quickly utilized, turning to face me.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked me. It’s as if the asphalt stripped him of his anger in addition to his breath.

“Because I figured I’d have the most fun kicking your ass,” I replied. I went in for my second strike and he moved out of the way, catching my fist in his. I pivoted away and elbowed him in the ribs with my free arm.

I don’t want to hurt you too badly, I thought, but I need to fuel you enough so you’ll fight back.

He grunted but tossed me away from him, putting his foot out in the process causing me to trip. The sting of the pavement left nice tears in my pants right over my already bleeding knees.

“No need to hold back, Derek,” I grumbled, “I thought I already warned all of you to never go easy on me.” He could have hit me with no problem, but he opted to trip me instead. I couldn’t have any of that if my plan was going to be successful.

“Why are you doing this?” he repeated.

I pushed off from my hands so I was standing, brushing the little rocks out of my palms and raised my eyebrows, “I deserve it, don’t I?”

I didn’t give him time to answer because I went in for a kick. I made contact with his shoulder which made him stumble backwards.

“Huh?” was all he could manage.

I went in for another kick, aimed at his right shoulder this time, and only barely made contact before he grabbed my ankle with his strong hands. He held me firmly where I was, and I almost wanted to smile at the opportunity. It was a move I had mastered, but hadn’t performed in a long time. I pushed off of my other leg, springing into the air and completing a 360 turn. Usually, I’d kick the other person in the face as I went, but I didn’t want to do too much damage to Derek. That wasn’t my main goal. Instead, I kicked over his head, but the movement was strong enough to break his grip on my other ankle. I landed one foot after the other, returning to a typical fighting stance and read the look of astonishment in his eyes.

I persisted, “I mean, I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I’m no better than the murderers we hunt. I’ve been manipulating all of you, getting you to trust me for my own benefit, and look how that’s ended up. Some kind of profilers you guys are, letting a grade A criminal join your unit, then letting her rip you apart right under your noses. I’ve caused nothing but trouble for all of you since the day I joined. I almost got your best friend killed. Can you imagine that? Being shoved against the wall, the blade dripping with his blood. Slowly bleeding out on the floor of his dark cell, wondering if he was gonna die alone in a place he didn’t belong, having that be his lasting legacy. I mean, I was the only reason they targeted him. You said it yourself. I’m the reason he’s in prison in the first place,” I said deliberately, making sure to emphasize each word, letting the weight behind them sink in. I could feel him winding up and it brought a curl to my lips. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was act deranged and sound enticed by the idea of Spencer’s blood on the floor, hoping it would be enough.

And it was.

I saw his foot shift forward an inch or two before his fist followed. This time, I let him hit me.

My head snapped to the far right. It was a dizzying feeling, and it almost forced me off my feet.

I cackled as I turned to look at him, bringing the back of my hand to my mouth to wipe the sticky blood from my lips. The sight and smell, the whole atmosphere of fighting, brought back memories of my worst days, but honestly some of my proudest moments. I hated myself for it, but I meant it when I said, “I forgot how exhilarating this is.”

The look on his face was one I’d only ever seen him wear when staring down an unsub. I reveled in the fact that not only was my plan working, it was working perfectly. I decided I’d rip that disgusted look of his face, going in for a punch I knew he’d dodge, instead making contact with my knee at the base of his throat. I heard him cough and bring a hand to his neck, but by now, I had his adrenaline pumping. He brought his other fist up and made full contact with the center of my stomach before following it up with a strike to my face.

We were both clutching at our most recent sore spots, my eye socket throbbing, preparing for the next blow when the doors behind me blew open.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Hotch hollered.

I turned to look at him, and realized that the entire team had followed. I glanced above their heads and noticed the camera there. Garcia must’ve been watching. I accounted that they’d get us on camera, noting that I initiated it and he resisted, but I didn’t anticipate having a live audience.

Before either of us could answer, Derek came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, attempting to restrain me.

“First rule of fighting: never turn your back on your opponent.”

“Second rule: make sure you have the proper grip.” I clasped my hands together and brought both of my elbows down into his ribcage, then shot my hands up into his face. It pushed his weight slight backwards, and while he still had a pretty good hold on me, it faltered only for a second. But that was all the time I needed.

I pushed my arms against his while forcing my spine into his chest. It created even more wiggle room, enough that I could turn and face him. He grabbed my wrists, and I wrapped my hands around his in return. I tossed my whole body weight towards the ground while driving my heel into his shin, forcing his weight toward me. Before he could land on top of me though, I put my other foot up, centered on his torso, and flipped him clean over me. It was the second time I knocked the wind out of him, and I kipped-up to standing.

I could have easily kicked the shit out of him at this point, but the look of horror on sweet Penelope’s face stopped me from completely losing myself. Had I not looked away, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through on my plan. My plan to save Spencer. That’s what I was repeating over and over in my head, convincing myself this was the right thing to be doing.

I planted a single foot on top of his chest, and looked down at him.

“Why are you doing this?” he pleaded, but this time it was different. He was no longer asking me why, he knew why, he was now asking me why I thought this was the best solution.

“I have to.” It was the best, and really the only, explanation I had.

I heard Hotch approach us and I turned to him, drawing my gun.

He halted in his tracks, and Rossi and the ladies behind him gasped.

“Aundreya, what are you doing?”

“Cuff me.” It was a similar command to the one I gave to Derek only minutes earlier.

“You want me to cuff you?” Aaron confirmed.

I fired into the air, then tossed my gun toward him, watching it slide on the ground with a screech before being stopped by his rubber soles.

“It’s protocol. I’ve assaulted an FBI agent and I pulled my gun on you, even firing off a shot. Cuff me.”

He slowly continued his path to me, all the while pulling his cuffs from his pocket.

Derek stood up and helped restrain me as Hotch linked the cuffs behind me. He ushered me by the frozen agents, and it was like I could see the gears spinning in their heads.

Once he got me through the entry doors, he whispered, “There was a better way. We were going to solve it.”

I knew I could count on him to put it together that quickly. He always did do the best job reading me. “You still have to. This is only a temporary solution.”

“Why?”

I was getting really tired of that question. If I never heard it again it would be too soon.

Other security guards were rushing down to detain me and move me to a temporary jail before transferring me to a prison. I quickly said under my breath, “If I don’t, he’s going to be dead before the end of the week. Then we will never save him. Do me one favor, and get me transferred to the same prison.”

He nodded as he handed me off to a bunch of guards in white uniforms. I gave him one single nod before turning away, awaiting my new cell; my new home.

Part 2

Series Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@blameitonthenight21

[oops-i-wrote-it]

Eagles and Robins Ch16: Moments of Mori

Once again, Robin was sickened by what he saw.

Is it?

Undoubtedly.

Grima spoke with anger dripping from his voice. Demonic beasts emerged, chasing, attacking, terrorising the students. Edelgard’s brow was furrowed, her eyes wide with anger, Dimitri’s fists shook as he gripped his lance, Claude was lost for words, his mouth failing to produce any semblance of sound.

“Father, don’t…” Morgan didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“I won’t, not this time.” Summoning Grima again would be too risky, especially with unfamiliar students around. Jeralt came rushing in on horseback, lance twirling then crashing down valiantly.

“Uncle, look.” Lucina went to Robin’s side, staring in the direction of the ruined chapel. She didn’t point, however. She didn’t want to attract attention to the individual she had spotted.

Monica stood there, smiling calmly, watching it all happen, just as Solon had. Rage twisted in Robin’s gut, he grinded his teeth, and inhaled deeply through his nose. He must not rush this.

“What should we do?” Lucina’s hand hadn’t left Falchion’s hilt, she stood tall with her chin in the air and her shoulders back. Gods, she looked so much like Reflet, but with Chrom’s authoritative air. It was heart-breaking, she made such a fine leader, but she shone the most under dire and tragic circumstances.

“Our top priority is to protect the students.” Robin saw a beast near the group out of the corner of his eye, he fired an Elwind spell that came crashing into the ground behind it by the ballista, distracting the beast.

“Let’s take out the ones nearby, but we’ll need to attract the attention of the ones by the chapel. The students are backed into a corner, we can’t push the beasts further in.” Byleth nodded, and handed the Sword of the Creator to Bel. “I’ll take the one near the Ballista with my class. Ignatz, you take the ballista.”

“R-Right.” Ignatz nodded, adjusting his glasses as he eyed up the ballista.

“Robin, do you think you can distract the beast with your more powerful spells to draw them away?” Byleth made for quite the commander, his voice had a power to it that hadn’t been directed at Robin before.

“No problem. Morgan, with me. Professors Eisner, my students are yours to command.” Robin and Morgan made for the beast in the upper corner, narrowly missing the claws, jaws, and projectiles of the others.

“Father, there’s something lodged in their heads, do you see it?” Morgan fired a spell to get the attention of the beast, it crashed into its back.

“I see it. I’m hoping I can examine one properly once this is over and everyone’s safe.” Robin cast a Thoron spell, the beast shrieked ear-splittingly loud. Even Monica covered her ears. “Monica! I see now why you were too busy to come by my office!” Monica scowled at Robin. He saw the flash of a dagger, then a lurch. Had Flayn always been at his side? Robin blinked, then it was Ferdinand on horseback too. Robin came a stop mid-run when he realised he was taking these steps a third or fourth time, looking around.

“Father?” Morgan looked to him, Robin’s chest rose and fell. Morgan squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Robin’s brow furrowed. “It’s nothing, just a little dizzy.” Robin’s head spun to face Owain and Lucina. Owain lost his footing for a moment, Lucina had Falchion in the ground, steadying herself while her eyes swept the sky frantically. They felt it too. Byleth and Bel were watching closely.

At last, Robin understood what it meant to be touched by the power of Sothis.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[imagine-loki]

Beauty and the Beast

TITLE: Beauty and the Beast CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 40/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is under a spell that will return him to his Aesir one if he learns to accept himself for who he is RATING: T (so far)  NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

“You wouldn’t betray family, would you?" Loki tried that tactic, hoping to entice his sister with the idea of family.  He knew that he was desperate for love and approval.  He had a feeling his sister was the same way. 

"I have no family," she informed him coldly.  "I never have.  And it would hardly be a betrayal to give you your rightful throne," she reminded him.  Loki was right.  Her adamance about not having a family was proof enough how desperately she wanted one.  Loki saw the familiar glint in her eyes that so haunted his own

"I am a prince of Asgard, not of Jotunheim. This is not and has never been my throne or my home," Loki told her.  He really tried to be reasonable.  He was trying to use logic against her. It would work on him after all. 

Breya shrugged.  "You’re Laufey’s son and the last remaining prince of Jotunheim. That is your throne," she said firmly.  Loki hadn’t admitted he was Laufey’s son, but she wasn’t stupid, unlike the current king.  Besides, they were family, which of course she knew just as well as he did.  He could feel the bond between them.

"No, never," Loki said firmly.  He had to get away from here.  He couldn’t let himself be tied to a throne he didn’t want.

She nodded and looked down, realizing she was in a losing fight.  He wouldn’t accept the throne.  He didn’t want it, didn’t even want to be here.  "Alright," she said softly.  "But you won’t be able to stay on the realm.  There’s a portal between the realms about two miles north of the palace.  I’ll cover your escape," she offered. It was a very generous offer indeed.

Loki nodded, accepting the offer. He needed to get out of here before he got tied to the throne. "Thank you…sister," the word felt strange on his tongue, even if it was true.

The young Jotun glared at him, her crimson eyes full of rage. "I told you.  I have no family.  Now get out of here," she ordered him firmly.

There was a haunted look in her eyes and Loki finally realized that she was hiding that helping him would cost her. She knew that keeping the king from angering Asgard was worth whatever punishment she would face for failing him. Loki finally vanished his daggers with a sigh. He couldn’t let her suffer because of him. She was family, even if she didn’t accept it, or him, yet. "Maybe you’re right. And I won’t risk your life just so I don’t have to stay. Inform your king who I am," he ordered.

He would give in to the vision in order to protect his sister. Even if it meant he wouldn’t be able to go home.

She gave him a look, distrust in her haunted eyes. "Why the change of heart? You want nothing to do with us or this realm.  If you stay, you’ll be tied to that throne," she reminded him, then considered that he was a self-sacrificing idiot after all.

"I have dealt with torture before. It is not something I will let my only blood family deal with. You may not admit it to yourself, but we are family," he saw the acknowledgment in her eyes. "I will not let you go through what I’ve gone through," he told her gently.

Breya shrugged, looking unconcerned. "He won’t kill me.  I’m too useful," she said, though Loki doubted her.  Besides, he didn’t want his sister hurt. Even if he had just met her.  He didn’t have blood family besides her. 

"Yes. But torture isn’t something you should underestimate. I would know," he said with a haunted look in his eyes.

“I’ve been punished for failing him before,” her tone was reassuring, but her words were dreadful, especially for someone so young.  She knew what she was facing and was willing to help him anyway.

Loki wouldn’t let that happen. “No. Tell him, Breya. Please.” It killed him to say, but he knew this was the right path. 

“If you’re sure,” she said and turned back to the king, waving her hand again to dispel her illusion. “Interim King, this man is our rightful king, the lost prince Loptr, son of Laufey,” she announceed.

The interim king glared at Loki, but stood with his held high. He glared down at Breya.  “You’re sure?” he demanded. She nodded meekly and Loki hated the meek look in her eyes.  The interim king turned to address the court.  “Your rightful king has returned. May his life be long and his rule prosperous,” he seemed almost relieved that he didn’t have the burden anymore as he vacated the throne.  Almost.  He would clearly miss the power of being king. 

Loki glanced at Breya before he looked up at the throne.  He had to steel himself before he climbed the steps to take his seat.  The court applauded and Breya got jostled roughly out of the way as the biggest strongest, most impressive Jotuns tried to vie for positions of power and the new king’s approval. “Enough!” Loki roared in a battlefield roar that silenced them all.  He looked to his sister.  “Breya, come here,” he ordered when he caught her gaze.  

The crowd silence as she scurried up to the the throne. “Yes, my king?” She asked while the others glared at her.  

“You will be my personal advisor. Anyone else who dares question me will face my wrath. Am I understood?” He glared darkly at the rest of the Jotuns.  His power sparked around him as he was annoyed. 

“Yes, my king,” Breya replied.  The rest of the court agreed, however reluctantly.  They didn’t want to be smited.  They didn’t approve of the new king being advised by a teenage girl, just as they hadn’t approved of the last king doing the same.  Loki’s glare hardened.  “Do not underestimate me or my sister. Anyone who does will face the consequences,”

The crowd gasped at Loki’s acknowledgement of Breya as his sister, but in such a way that Loki knew they already knew.  Breya got him through the necessary tasks of the day, stopped three assassination attempts, and finally led him to his chambers which had been completely cleaned, emptied, aired out, and filled with new furnishings in preparation for him.  Loki stepped in and sighed in relief.  “Thank you, Breya. I appreciate your help,”

She nodded and gave him a warm smile.  “Call me if you need anything else,” she replied kindly, tapping her head to indicate telepathically.  “I live on the other side of the palace, so it’s faster than sending a messenger.” The only living spaces on the other side of the palace were the servants’ quarters.  Loki had found that out on their tour earlier.  

Loki shook his head. “That will be changing. Your room will be right across from mine. You are a princess. You will be treated as such,” he told her firmly.  She looked confused.  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “You and I are family, Breya.  That will never change.”

She nodded and gave him a bright smile when she finally accepted it.  “Family…” she said more to herself, longing in her voice.  She didn’t have any delusions that he would stay forever.  “Then I will see you in the morning, brother,” she replied warmly and turned to find her own bed.

“Breya, not to the servants quarters. To the room across from mine. Do I have to make it an order?” He teased, a gentle smile on his face.

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “You just want to make sure I get no sleep tonight,” she whined.  “Do you know how long it will take them to set up the room across the hall?”

“Then you will sleep here while they make up your room. I will not have you treated like a servant,” he told her firmly.

“Finefine, overprotective king,” she replied, sounding so much like Wanda or Morgan in that moment that it brought homesick tears to his eyes.  She touched his hand and ducked into the guest room of his suite to get some sleep. 

 Loki went into the master bedroom and laid on the bed, breathing a heavy sigh. “What have I gotten myself into?” He breathing out quietly.  He realized he’d followed the visions that led to him being on the Jotun throne.  And abandoned his family, friends, and Morgan in the process.  

He soon found that Frigga had been desperately trying to get back in touch with him.  She was his mother and wouldn’t give up on him.  She managed to get one message through.  Only one attempt was strong enough when he didn’t want to talk to her and she knew she had to leave him be after that attempt.  She was out of magic to keep trying, he didn’t want to talk to her, and she would push him away if she pushed any harder. So she sent him one final message, one plea of love.  /No matters what happened, or what paths you choose, my darling, you will always be my son, and I will always love you/ 

Tears formed in his eyes and he squeezed them shut as he found against emotions. /I love you too, Mother. I always will/ he replied.

With that, he severed the connection permanently.

[gingerwritess]

Hi! I really like you’re writing! Loki an Elliot are adorable! ❤️ I had an idea. You and Loki take Elliot to an amusement park and Loki is being a stubborn little shit and won’t go on the ride(bc they look kinda terrifying but he’s not gonna say that). So the reader promises to give him a kiss if he goes on one and doesn’t enjoy it. So he goes and he pretends to hate it bc he wants a kiss

ok this took forever but enjoy!! its super fluffy! 

i don’t own any part of disney, just borrowed their name/park pls don’t sue me

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

“That can’t possibly be safe.”

Loki’s staring up at the ferris wheel with wide eyes, a hand full of bright blue cotton candy frozen halfway to his mouth.

“I wanna go on it,” Elliot announces, wiping his ice cream covered mouth on the arm of his shirt. “Be brave, daddy, it’s a big-kid ride.”

Loki gapes at him—there is no way in hell he’s letting his son get on that rickety old wheel and spin off into oblivion, much less get on it himself. “Absolutely not, this one is off limits. You’re not going.”

“Oh, come on, daddy,” you tease, nudging his arm. “Let the kid have some fun.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my wife had lost her mind…y-you can’t be serious.” His head snaps to yours and he flings a hand at the ferris wheel, that damned mouse grinning down at him, mocking him—he hates this place.

So…happy.

“Elliot,” Loki smiles and crouches in front of the little boy. “Do you have a death wish?”

“A what?”

“That’s what I thought.” He stands up and shakes his head at you. “No one from this family steps foot on that…that wheel.”

You roll your eyes and grab his hand, starting the trek towards the winding line of people waiting to get on, and Elliot squeals excitedly when he sees where you’re headed. “Sorry, snowflake, you don’t call all the shots here,” you call back to Loki, who’s sulking behind the two of you. “We paid a lot of money for this little vacation, so if he wants to go on the wheel of death, let him go on the wheel of death.”

Oh, wonderful. Now Loki’s pouting.

The light-up Mickey Mouse ears Elliot snuck on his head don’t seem to be cheering him up either.

“All these people,” he groans once you’re in line, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms. “You two just go, I’ll wait for you when you get off. I might hurt someone if I stay here any longer.”

“No! Dad, you gotta go!” Elliot hoists himself up on the railing next to his dad, stealing a chunk of his cotton candy. “Are you scared or somethin’?”

Loki scoffs and lightly whacks Elliot in the face with his stick of cotton candy. “You have three seconds to reevaluate that sentence, young man.”

Giggling, Elliot waves you over to whisper in your ear. “Dad’s scared to go on the ferris wheel.”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Loki and adjust his mouse ears, patting his cheek when you pull your hands back. “I bet he’s scared cause he knows he would love it…”

You swear you can feel the daggers Loki is glaring at you right now.

“Tell you what,” you begin thoughtfully, swinging Elliot into your arms as the line starts moving. Loki stays planted firmly on the railing, scowling at you with lips a tiny bit blue from the dyed sugar he’s been eating all day. “I’m willing to bet that you’re going to have more fun than you’ve ever had in your life, once you get your stubborn butt on the ferris wheel.”

“You’re delusional.” Loki grins and lightly flicks your forehead. “Even IF I was to go on this, I would be miserable the entire time, without a doubt.”

“For the god of lies, you’re a terrible liar. Don’t you think, Elliot?” You bounce the wiggling little kid in your arms.

“The worst-est,” Elliot agrees. “C’mon, dad, it’s super fun. You gotta go.”

Loki scowls and shakes his head at his son. “The only way you’re getting me on that wheel,” he pokes a finger into Elliot’s chest, “is if you can make me an offer worthy of the gods.”

“Deal.”

“Really?” You laugh and shift Elliot to your other hip. “Dad drives a hard bargain, kiddo. Good luck with that.”

“Nah, I got an idea.” Elliot grins, his bright eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint.

Oh no.

“If daddy can go on it without smiling ever,” Elliot states firmly, pointing a finger right back in Loki’s face. “Then he gets a surprise.”

“And what might that be?” Loki’s biting back a grin, you can tell.

“Can’t tell ya. Issa secret.”

“I don’t believe you, little silvertongue.”

Elliot crosses his arms and pulls a dramatic pout at his father. “That’s rude, scaredy-cat. I’ll tell you that it includes a kiss from mom and a hug from me, but that’s all y’get to know.”

“Scaredy-cat?!”

“You’re gonna pay for that one,” you whisper to Elliot, tickling him in the stomach and handing him over to Loki, who takes him tight in his arms, holding the squirming little kid in the air.

“You dare call your father a scaredy-cat, Elliot Lokason??” As threatening as his voice sounds, you can hear the laughter behind it as Loki easily holds Elliot in one arm, the other hand turning icy blue and slipping up the boy’s shirt. “That is no way to speak to a king, peasant.”

“NO! I’m a prince, dad, stop, I’m a prince too!!” Elliot squeals with laughter, feet kicking helplessly in the air. “Sorry sorry sorry, sorry dad, stop!!”

The little boy is still squirming with laughter under Loki’s freezing blue hand on his tummy, his own lighter blue starting to blossom from the centre of his chest.

“Well then, the prince of Asgard…” Loki pauses his icy tickle attack, finally setting the blue kid on the railing in front of him, putting a hand to his heart and turning his voice deadly serious. “…must know how to speak with poise, grace, elegance, and regality in every syllable.”

Elliot giggles, putting a little hand to his blue heart and mimicking his dad’s formal speech and accent perfectly, his eyebrows furrowing as he best tries to copy his dad’s pose. “With noise, space, elephants and legal tea in every syllable—”

“That is not what I said.”

You double over with laughter, the seriousness in Elliot’s little face too much to handle as he mimics his father—his father, that is, whose scowl is quickly being overridden by an inevitable smile when Elliot breaks down laughing, too.

He watches the two of you, clutching your stomachs as your faces scrunch with laughter, and a jolt of something warm shoots through his body when you grab onto his arm from laughing so hard. Loki can’t help it; he grins.

How??

How, in the name of all that is sacred, does he get to have all this?

He stares at you, eyes flitting between you and your son, a few stray laughs leaving his lips as you move with the line and climb into a hanging carriage, flopping onto the bench, your shoulders still shaking from laughing. Elliot gasps for breath and throws himself over your lap, absolutely mad with giggles that just pick up for a second storm when Loki climbs in the carriage, ducking low to avoid hitting his head.

“You—you’re—” he breaks down in giggles again, pointing at Loki and covering his face with little hands. “You’re so tall! Mom, mom, he’s so tall, I can’t—”

You’re not sure why Elliot seems to find that so funny, but you find yourself hoping to god that he keeps laughing; you can practically feel the unbridled joy in Loki’s heart at this moment.

He slumps onto the bench across from you, looking uncharacteristically out of proportion on the ride probably not meant for someone with the build of a god. Long legs stretch across the floor and tangle with your ankles, and he runs his foot up your calf with a grin.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

“Hey!” Elliot jumps to his feet, still hiccuping from laughing so hard. “No—hic—ehehe…no smiling, ‘member??”

“Ah. Right,” Loki sighs, crossing his arms and slumping further down in his seat. “No happiness at Disneyland.”

The ride starts moving, lifting your carriage in the air and Elliot rushes to the edge, looking through the gated barriers at the amusement park below.

“I wanna fly,” he announces, turning around and flopping onto the bench next to Loki. “I wanna know how to fly, dad, you know how to fly?”

“Not exactly…”

Elliot frowns, a concerning glint in his eye. “Morgan’s dad can fly.”

“Morgan’s dad wears a metal wetsuit,” Loki scoffs, lightly pushing his son’s face away. “And, last I checked, doesn’t have the ability to freeze his child when that child gets…troublesome.”

He raises his hands with a grin as Elliot shrieks, scrambling off the bench and hurtling over to hide behind you, sending the hanging carriage swinging back and forth.

“S’not good to threaten your kid, dad, don’t do that.”

“Yeah, honey,” you laugh, wrapping your son in a protective hug. “Don’t threaten to freeze your kid, that’s not setting a good example.”

“A good example?” Loki scoffs and laces his fingers behind his head. “I’m sorry, my love, but there’s no hope for this one. You remember last night, don’t you?”

Elliot grins and snuggles up closer to you, ever sporting the adorable facade of a little angel—oh yes, you remember.

“Froze my tongue to my fork during dinner…”

“That was n’accident, sorta.”

“…turned the hot water to ice in the middle of my shower…”

Elliot bursts out laughing again. “You screamed!! Mom got so worried, you screamed—”

“Tell me again, why did we bring you here?”

“Cause you love me.” The little boy scrunches up his nose in a grin. “You love me, you love me—hey!! You’re smiling!”

He is, shamelessly and clearly with little control. “You’re a pain,” he laughs, conjuring a snowball and chucking it at his kid. “But…I do love you.”

“Love ya too, loser.”

Another snowball hits Loki square in the face not two seconds later.

“ELLIOT!!”

“What?! Dad started it!”

* * * *

“So,” Loki hums the moment he takes a wobbly step back onto solid ground. “What was my surprise, unðr?”

“Uh, you lost, dad.” Elliot grabs your hand and reaches for Loki’s with the other, skipping happily between the two of you. “I was gonna surprise you with unlimited hugs for a day, but you had fun, huh?”

“I was miserable, wasn’t that obvious?”

“You were laughing, daddy, mom saw you too.”

“Leave me out of this,” you laugh, holding up your hands in defence. “I’ve yet to make a deal with your father that’s actually ended well.”

“Oh, really?”

Oh no.

Loki turns to you with a glint in his eye. “I seem to recall a little late night wager where you told me not to make a sound or else you would—”

“LOKI, THERE’S CHILDREN.”

“Educating the masses,” Loki grins, swinging Elliot in the air as he skips obliviously along. “I think I should be rewarded even for going on that death wheel, don’t you agree?”

Smooth change of subject, Loki. A+ parenting.

Elliot thinks for a minute, jumping and swinging using your hands to lift him higher. “How ‘bout you get a hundred hugs today? Not ‘nfinity, only a hundred.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, little giant.” Loki swoops the little boy up into his arms and plants a loud smack of a kiss on his chubby cheek, squeezing him in a tight, squirming hug. “You mentioned there being a ‘mom component’ as well, don’t think I forgot about that.”

“Uh huh.” Elliot nods and grins at you, resting his head against Loki���s cheek. “Mom’s gotta give you unlimited kisses. Forever.”

“What?!”

“You heard him,” Loki laughs, using up another one of his hundred hugs. “Unlimited kisses…forever…I like you, Elliot, good thinking.”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” you sigh as Loki wraps his arm not holding Elliot around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“You married me,” Loki grins, stealing two quick pecks to your lips.

“Don’t remind me—”

“Had a kid with me, too.”

Three more smooches and he’s squeezing your cheeks together with a hand under your chin—already abusing his power.

“You agreed to spend the rest of your life with me,” Loki laughs, lacing his fingers through yours and leading you towards another cotton candy stand. “And if that requires unlimited kisses…”

Elliot nods with as smug a grin as he can muster.

“…then you might as well enjoy it.”

You roll your eyes and wrap your two boys in a giant hug, tugging Loki in for a proper kiss. “Then get over here and maybe I will, idiot.”

Elliot claps his hands over his eyes. “That’s gus-tusting.”

“This was your idea, Elliot.”

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

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen  @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @little-scintilla @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted

[cowboy-canoodler]

A High Note of Love: Part 8

(prepare for angst and violence in part 9 my dudes, (Y/N) has had a cushy way so far. Until now. ;) )

Master list: http://cowboy-canoodler.tumblr.com/post/183094165570/a-high-note-of-love-master-list

The sky seemed clearer now, birdsong more beautiful, the water vividly clear, a place to call home, friends, and Arthur. You were walking back hand in hand with your new lover, Arthur Morgan,a more handsome man you’d never seen, his hand was tight within your grasp; on the walk back to camp you shared giggles, the smile hadn’t left your faces since you told him you’d accept Hosea’s invite into the gang, you prodded and poked into each other, chiding chuckles and laughs from happy lips.

“Are you sure you wanna join? It’s not an easy life (Y/N)” Arthur was concerned with your decision, for he knew more than anyone what you could lose from this life, the fear of losing you like he’d lost Mary, Elizabeth and Isaac, other gang members he’d been close to; the fear of losing you now would almost consume him.

“Arthur, I would do anything to be around you and you’re family, save maybe Micah” Another snicker between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around each others waists. This was the perfect end to this day and you had never felt happier.

The walk to camp was short and brisk you and Arthur chortling and taunting each other with small jokes and smiles. As the tents came into view you could see gang members gathered around the main table, Hosea, Micah, Bill, and Lenny all there talking, arguing, debating? Who knew, but voices were raised well above over each other.

“What’s going on?” You questioned, grabbing Arthurs hand from your waist, giving it a small squeeze.

“Prob’ly a lead to a job, the usual” Arthur had said this so nonchalantly with naught but a shrug of his shoulders, but of course this life was second nature to him. Stealing and pillaging, these must be things you agree with to be part of the gang.

“Arthur! (Y/N)! Come over here for a second, help us sort this out!” Hosea shouted over at you, prompting you and Arthur to walk over to the scene of the argument. On the table lay a map of New Austin, the cross roads near Emerald Ranch circled with different crosses and movements written then scribbled out. “Which way should we attack a stagecoach coming through here?” Hosea pointed towards the map, this then cued the men to argue over which way they should attack the coach, Micah and Bill insisting on a frontal assault, Lenny, and Hosea arguing an ambush. Arthurs hand abandoned yours and proceeded to try and calm them down, the ambush being his favoured choice. This went on for a couple of minutes, and in this time you took it upon yourself to look at the map, studying the roads and landscape, ‘6 Guards’, ‘at least $3000′ and other crossed out words littered the map.

“I wouldn’t go with either” You muttered, silencing the group, who all stopped and looked at you.

“What the fuck would you know about a stage robbery, prissy?” Bill puffed his chest out and took a step towards you, but you didn’t retreat and instead stood your ground.

“What the fuck would you know about thinking, Bill?“ Bill didn’t like this, he took another step forward and raised his hand to you, but you stared him down, “You need a distraction to take out the guards, an ambush won’t work they’ll be expecting it, so sit your ass down and let the adults do the thinking, you lump of oats” The group emerged in raucous laughter and Bill huffed, his hand lowering and brows crumpling together with clenched jaw.

“Well then, missy” Micah piped up at last, you could see a bruise forming on his jaw from where you had hit him earlier, “seein’ as you and Arthur are fuckin’ now, how would you do it?” Murmurs of agreement, and a dagger of looks from Arthur shot towards Micah. You pointed at a rock on the map.

“Have someone hide here, a woman will be more believable, dishevelled and dirty, the coach will stop and pay attention to her, especially if shes in high class clothing. She creates a distraction, you guys circle around, quietly, take out the guards stealthily and then shoot the rest. Bingo!” You clasped your hands together with an audible clap and brought your face up to meet the gangs eyes who were focused on you, some mouths slightly agape others nodding in agreement.

“That’ll work” Hosea agreed with you, Arthur, and Lenny concurring in agreement.

“I still say an ambush! What does she know? She ain’t one of u-” Bill shouted, visibly distressed at the thought of you winning the rest of them over.

“Actually she is” Arthur interrupted, “(Y/N) is joining the gang” he encircled his arm around your shoulders in a protective manner, shielding you from them.

“That’s wonderful!” Hosea clapped his hands together, a smile wide on his face, a blush rise slightly to your cheeks at his warm welcome. Lenny and Arthur were also smiling at you, but Bill and Micah shared ‘a look’.

“well if shes in The Gang-” Bill started.

“-She just volunteered” Micah finished the sentence, a wicked smile on his face.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to” Hosea interjected, but you raised a hand to shush him.

“I’ll do it.”

“(Y/N) It’s fine they’re jerkin’ to get a reaction from ya” So kind was Arthur to keep you from harms way, but you wanted to prove yourself to the gang, and this was the opportunity.

“I know that, but I’m still going to do it!” You had your resolve, the other members agreed to let you act this role, despite Arthurs protests. An hour later and the plan was all worked out, the horses fed and saddled, your dress covered in mud and your hair in a messy up do, thanks to Miss Grimshaw’s excellent hair care. You sauntered over to Arthur,who was checking the guns on his horse, in your newly ‘distressed woman’ attire and threw your arms out wide, putting on the best American accent you could muster.

“Well, partner, how do I look?” Smile plastered over your face, but Arthur only returned a look of apprehension, “What?”

“You look great, your accent is great but (Y/N) are ya sure you wanna do this? You could get in danger, or hurt. I only just got ya I don-”

“Hey hey hey” you hushed him and placed a hand on his cheek, “I’ll be fine, we’ll do this job, I’ll head back to Saint Denis, pick up my things and then we’re good to go Arthur, I promise” Arthurs baby blue eyes stared into yours and he leaned into your hand, his guard dropping ever so slightly as his hand came to yours delicately pulling it off of his cheek and toward his lips; he planted a soft loving kiss on your palm.

“Alright get yer shit and get goin’ come on!” Bill shouted as he mounted his horse, the others laughing and starting the ride to the ambush site, you were riding with Arthur, sat in front with his arms resting at your sides as he held the reins.

A natural feeling came from riding out with the gang members like this, you belonged here, all the hurt you had previously suffered and the pain you went through to get to America and away from your family had paid off. This is who you were meant to become. A con-woman extraordinaire. Although that may have been taking it a little far. The ride to the ambush site was quiet, you rode in two groups to avoid attention, Bill and Micah Ahead, Lenny alone, and you and Arthur behind them, hardly anyone passed, and if they did there was no more than a sideways glance.

“This is the place” Arthur stopped his horse and checked his pocket watch, “Coach’ll be here soon” You slipped off the horse, and walked over to the rock, although you were a born performer, you were nervous beyond belief. If this somehow went wrong, it would be your fault and this would prove you’d be no more than a hindrance to the Gang. This had to go right. 

“Yes, thank you Arthur” You looked over to him, Arthur was still concerned for you, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched. “I’ll be fine Arthur” you then swapped to your American accent, “I’m supposed to perform, now go on, Git!” You waved your arms around dramatically and Arthur bucked his horse, riding steadily towards the others, who were hiding somewhere around but you could’t tell.

Even though it had been merely minutes, it felt like hours, nervous twitches in your body, your eyes darting around the roads to look for the stagecoach, head jolting at every noise. Your palms were clammy and beads of sweat rolling down your back until you finally heard it, the sounds of the stage coach, you peaked out from the rock and caught it in your eye line, there were 6 guards, and two more on the stagecoach, a couple of deep breaths and you calmed down, waiting for just the right moment until-

“PLEASE! Can someone help me please!?” You ran out from behind the rock, bewildered and crazy, your arms flailing around to catch their attention, and catch their attention you did. “Sirs! Please!” You ran up to the stagecoach as they looked at you with both suspicion and unease.

“What’s wrong lady?” The one in the drivers seat replied, turning all attention fully to you, this was the clincher.

“Please! Mah husband! He was captured! They killed him, I managed to escape. Please! You’ve gotta help me I don’t want them to find me!” Tears welled in your eyes as you grabbed onto the driver, hysterical sobs erupted from you and the air changed immediately.

“Hey its alright now, what’s your name?” The driver let his guard down and released the reins, bending down to place a hand on your shoulder.

“It- Its Marjorie. Marjorie Roberts” You sobbed enthusiastically, all of the men had their attention on you and you were killing this role. As they offered you a ride home you heard the sound of a gun shot, only 3 guards remained plus the drivers.

“What the fuck?” The driver shot up and you bolted to the rock staying down while the men dealt with the rest, flurries of gunfire and men yelling. Just as soon as it started it had finished, you peeked your head out and saw all the men making sure the guards were dead.

“Did it work?” You asked innocently, standing up and admiring the view of an empty stagecoach littered with dead bodies.

“Yeah, we’re all good” Arthur beckoned you towards him and you obliged, a little jog in your step as you had never felt more alive. “You did great darlin”

“Why thank ya darlin’“ a smile tugged your lips and an arm wrapped around Arthur’s waist, Lenny, Bill, and Micah worked on getting the money from the lockbox inside the coach.

“Well look-ee here, this must be closer to seven thousand!” Micah and Bill guffawed at the money as they started splitting it, Bill handed you your share, “Here”

“What?”

“This is your money! Take it godammit!” You took the money and looked over at Arthur who returned a smile.

“You earned it (Y/N), you did a hell of a good job” Lenny grinned at you as he pocketed his money.

“I hate to say it, but the Kid’s right” A surprising turn as Micah had given you a compliment.

“Woah hold on there Micah, people might think you care” You laughed and held your hands up.

“Eat shit, come on we should go” A collective whistle from each person but you and horses came into view from behind the trees, “meet back at camp”. You mounted Arthurs horse, shortly after so did Arthur, and a quick gallop took you away from the crime. Adrenaline still shot through your veins as Arthur pulled the horse to an abrupt halt, many miles away from the robbery.

“Okay we should be alright here” Arthur looked around to make sure no one was following you but you didn’t care, a grin was wide on your face, the rush of it all still within you.

“That was- thrilling!” You let out a shrill laughter and dismounted Arthurs horse pacing backwards and forwards, a way to just let out the energy your body was pumping into you.

“You did real good, I’m proud of ya!” Arthur dismounted, and any worry that had previously been on his face was replaced with smiles, an enveloping hug and he swung you around planting kisses on your cheeks as you giggled into each other.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it! We did that! WE did that!” More giggles and kisses, and as the energy burnt down as quick as it came you stood there breathless and encased in Arthurs arms, your head buried within his chest. By now the sun had set, an evening robbery and a night of success.

“What do you say we go and grab my belongings now? I want to get back to the gang as soon as possible”

“Well if that’s what you want, I’m not gonna stop yo-”

“I could buy myself a gun and some new clothes” Excitement filled your veins once more as you shot out suggestions for uses of the money, Arthur just nodded along with each of them. you were both so enraptured by the atmosphere you couldn’t hear the hooves and footsteps of incoming persons.

“Well well, if it ain’t Van Der Lindes lap dop” an Irish voice bellowed from the nearby woods as the men made them selves known as horses rounded around you and Arthur, at least 13 men all with their guns pointed at the two of you.

“What in the hell do you want O’Driscolls?” Arthur had already reached for his pistol and pointed it at the one who was talking, his other arm pulling you in close to protect you.

“Us? Now why would we want anything boys?” They laughed around you and Arthur, the air was sour and any chance of escape seemed thin. Your eyes darted around looking for any slight opportunity to present it self to you.

“Well well, whats this?” An arm yanked you away from Arthur making you yelp out a shriek, which was quickly silenced with a foreign hand and a gun to your temple, “you wanna shut the fuck up miss or my finger might just slip” the gun was pressed harder to your head you stifled a muffled weep as tears swelled in your eyes.

“Get your hands off of her!” Arthur stepped forward and their guns followed him all cocked and ready to shoot at a moments notice.

“Wait wait” another man spoke up and dismounted, “I’ve seen her before” two brisk steps towards you and he grabbed your face and pulled his within an inch, studying your features, “ohoho your daddies got a bounty for you missy” your eyes widened as they darted around the attackers face, “Leave him, we’ll take her instead”

And in the blink of an eye, Arthur was knocked out on the floor cold, you hogtied on the back of a horse, and O’Driscolls talking about how ‘Her daddy wants her alive, but now how alive’ 

Fuck

[antemortem-rp-blog]

NIKLAUS ❝KLAUS❞ MIKAELSON twenty-eight / a thousand ☾ original hybrid joseph morgan

There are no bargains between lion and men. I will kill you and eat you raw.

BUT AT MY BACK I ALWAYS HEAR

He was born a bastard and although no one knew for the beginning of his life, it felt as if his father did. Harsh on him for his reckless behaviour Mikael was never kind to Niklaus. His father’s cruelty never broke his spirits, he was ever the impulsive, excitable boy. He had his siblings and mother to love him. They would play in the woods when they weren’t being trained by their father. His own mother, knowing the true nature of her son’s genes, tried to protect him from triggering his werewolf curse. However, her methods only pushed Klaus and Mikael farther apart. He loved his family, possibly too much, but he was slowly taught that he had to depend on himself in the world.

For a brief moment in his life, that feeling would change. Like any other romantic story, it started with a crush. He knew loving her wasn’t what others would do, she already had a child with another man, but he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her. But it wasn’t meant to be. His own brother fell for her as well. They fought for a long time, even going so far as to come to blows before she eventually chose Elijah. Although he never outwardly expressed it, it turned Niklaus bitter toward love. But he still loved his family and that would be his anchor—even despite his father’s cruelty. Ever the doting brother, Niklaus promised to bring his youngest sibling, Henrik, to see the werewolves in the village transform. But this reckless decision would be the one that doomed him for eternity.

Esther, his mother, coaxed by Mikael cast an immortality spell. However, with the limited power Esther possessed along with the use of blood in her spell, she created the first vampires. The unintended side effect of the spell was the inevitable kill Niklaus would make. He triggered his werewolf curse almost immediately, turning into the first-ever hybrid. Mikael, furious to learn of Esther’s betrayal, forced his wife to create a curse to suppress his werewolf side. Unbeknownst to Klaus, Tatia’s blood was used once again forcing the doppelganger to be a part of his curse. Afterwards, Mikael abandoned the family. Betrayed once again by his mother, Niklaus lashed out and killed her, framing Mikael. This action solidified his siblings’ bond, especially between Elijah and Rebekah.

They spent years together, discovering their powers and about a century later, a weakness. The silver daggers dipped in white ash could put an Original into a desiccated state so long as it stayed in. However, thanks to his dual nature, even while dormant, Klaus would awake from this state hours later. Over the years this would become Klaus’ punishment of choice whenever he felt his siblings overstepped their worth. But it never stopped him from seeking out his cure, his freedom. He came close in the 15th century but failed. It wasn’t for another five hundred years he was given the opportunity. It took so much for him the break his curse but he succeeded. He thought everything was good, but then he learned of his mother’s final act of revenge. He couldn’t make any more hybrids.

He spent months trying to figure it out before eventually finding a witch who suggested he return to the scene of the crime. And that’s when he discovered Elena’s survival. At first, he didn’t care, but then he realized that, of course, it would be her blood would be the key. And successfully, Isaac was created into his first hybrid. All of that work was almost for not. Mikael was released upon him and if it hadn’t been for Stefan, Mikael would have killed him. He allowed Stefan his humanity back for the act, but Klaus still knew that Mikael was out there. To try and ensure his survival, Klaus removed the daggers from his brothers ( except Finn ). His situation in town is precarious, but he has to stay near Elena to keep making his hybrids. What better town than Chance Falls to begin making his army?

TIME’S WINGED CHARIOT HURRYING NEAR

Rebekah, Elijah & Kol Mikaelson → SIBLINGS

They’ve grown together since birth. They’ve had a millennium to watch each other succeed and fail. Klaus loves all his siblings, but he also has been betrayed by family before. He isn’t afraid to protect himself first. Rebekah has always been the most loyal to Klaus. He protects her no matter the circumstances, perhaps even when she doesn’t need it. Elijah has always been a challenger to Klaus. His only older brother he lets roam the earth. Despite having a tenuous relationship over Tatia, the two brothers get along for the most part. Elijah tends to be less reckless than Klaus, but what does the original hybrid have to fear? Kol is the most complicated relationship. He loves his younger brother, but he continues to actively seek a way to ruin his plans. He almost didn’t remove the dagger from Kol, but Rebekah would have been on his case if he hadn’t.

Isaac Lahey → PROGENY

His first hybrid. His first true success. He adores Isaac in a way that flatters his own prowess. He can create a super army. He’s glad Isaac seems bound to him in a way. It makes things easier. He’s also glad that the boy seems to advocate for the transition. He wants to change all the wolves of Chance Falls into hybrids. Isaac was just the start. He’s made a few other successful hybrids by now, but Isaac remains his favourite as his first. Isaac is the only hybrid who actually stays in the Mikaelson mansion with them.

Scott McCall → INTRIGUE

He’s a werewolf of great promise. It’s rare for a wolf to be turned from a bite than triggering the curse themselves. It’s been decades since Klaus has even heard rumours of someone accomplishing the feat. There is raw power that comes from a wolf turned like that. He can’t imagine what having a wolf like that on his side would be like. He intends to find out. If given the opportunity, he might even turn the young wolf into a hybrid.

Elena Gilbert → BLOOD SUPPLY

She was supposed to die in his ritual, but he’s come to realize it was Katherine Pierce. He doesn’t know how she reverted the vampirism, but he’s glad she did. Her being alive makes it possible for him to create his hybrids. He’s keeping a close eye on her. He needs her alive and well if her blood is the key to his hybrids. He’ll keep her alive to ensure she can continue to Petrova bloodline. Not to mention whenever possible he pulls a few pints from her. He’s started a stockroom in the bottom of the mansion to ensure for hundreds of years after Elena he’ll still be able to make his hybrids.