#about being chased up a never-ending tower that is falling apart and also on fire by a horrible deer monster

[wiltingdecay]

sorry idk what ur tower patron looks like but anyway

ABAOSDBDINALASBPAOEBRKAPSD YES THIS IS IT. THIS IS EXACTLY IT 100% YOU GET ME BASIL

[mayaflowerxs]

STRAYKIDS AS PETS

(Hyung Line)

Pairing: skz x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: fluff. Lots of cute moments.

Synopsis: How you and skz member meet and how it’s been going ever since. (Only dogs or cats as pets)

Chan:

Definitely a Golden retriever. You found Chan late at night, you and your ex boyfriend had gotten into a massive fight and you ran out the house to get a fresh breath of air. While you were walking, the sun had gone down and you ended up at the park. No longer feeling safe to stay out, you also didn’t want to go back to your ex’s place. As you bring your phone out to call your best friend, you kept looking around. Goosebumps trailing up your arm as the chilly wind blew by you. “Hey y/bsf/n, Me and him got in a fight again. I’m at the park and it’s really dark, come pick me up please?” While you were on the phone, you hadn’t realized the Golden dog start approaching you from behind. He had smelled you the second you stepped foot onto the premises. He’s been eating the scraps the kids leave by the tables. Seeing & smelling you intrigued him and he couldn’t help but want to get near you. “Thank you so much! Alright see you then.” As you hanged up, it had started to get pitched black, only the distant light of your neighborhood can be seen.

As you go to turn on the flash, it had flashed onto Chan. Squealing you fall off the bench and flat on your butt. Wincing as the sharp rocks scraped your palm. Chan immediately whines as he didn’t mean to hurt and scare you. With his nose, he nudged your palm for you to open it. Wanting to see how bad your injury was. “It’s alright buddy, see? No blood.” Chan breathes out, the sudden worry slowly dissolving. “You’re pretty cute.” You say as you go to pat his head. Chan couldn’t help but wag his tail, immediately feeling a strong connection between you and him. You knew you couldn’t leave Chan there and when there was no tag you knew you had to take him home. When your best friend came to pick you up, you guys went to the vet which was pretty hard since most of the ones near you were closed. No chip. Chan panicked when you put him back inside the car and started going to the route your best friend takes to get to her place. Not realizing that it was also the route the pound ends up at. Chan felt a strong wave of ptsd washing in and started whining. Barking and scratching the door. “What’s wrong buddy?” Howling as he nuzzled his nose in your neck, in a way begging you not to take him to the pound. That never happened. Now a year later you were in your small apartment with Chan. His bright blue diamond collar around him with his name shined brightly on it. Absolutely loves the time he has spent with you. Everyday is a blessing for him, he’s the comfort you always needed. When you wake up, he immediately gets up as well. When you go to work, he walks you to the door. Looking through the window until you drive out of your parking spot. Spotting you even when you guys are on the third floor. Making sure to park somewhere in his view, the last time you didn’t. You got a complaint about a barking dog 5 minutes after you drove off. When you’re sick, he uses his body heat to keep you warm. When you sleep he makes sure to not make as much noise to not wake you. 250/10 best boy.

Minho:

He’d be a Siamese cat. Now, now. Minho was actually a stray when you found him. His mother got killed by a coyote and his siblings were caught in a fire. He was the only one who survived and he was pretty traumatized, he was always wary with his surroundings and anyone really. Never trusted anyone or anything. When a pack of dogs started chasing him, usually he would fend for himself but given that he was outnumbered and had little to no energy. He used all that he had to run to the nearest house. Fitting himself through the small fence hole as the dogs barked at him. Baring their teeth at him, running inside the small vent the house had that led under the house. Staying there until he was sure no dogs were around. Feeling so tired, he had fallen asleep. He woke up when the slam of a car door was in his ear shot. Smelling the scent of chicken, he peaked his head out and saw you holding a bag of KFC, (if you don’t eat chicken or like KFC then imagine something else haha) His stomach grumbled as he licked his lips.

It’s been almost two days since the last time he had eaten. The rats he had caught had diseases and he really didn’t want to deal with infected rats much less, eat them. As you enter your house, you were engulfed by the hot heat pent up in your house. Opening the windows to let out the hot air and in the cool air, Minho slowly crawled out of his hideout. Peaking his head out to see inside your house. Instantly spotting the bag filled with the delicious chicken he craved dearly. He had a plan, while you were in the room. He’d go in, grab a wing and rush out. But it only backfired when he got in and got carried away by the great smell of the food. Not realizing you had closed the door and windows once cool air got in. Making your way over to the kitchen. Not even hearing your footsteps, he jumps when he hears your voice. Dropping the chicken in his mouth. “Uh...hi.” He hisses at you. Your guys first interaction was a mess. He hissed and threw his paw (with claws out & everything) at you. When you let him out, he quickly ran out. Running until he wasn’t near the house anymore. When he came to a stop, he felt this lonesome feeling in the pit of his stomach. The soft voice of yours ringing in his ear. He felt bad, you were being nothing but nice but he returned your niceness with hisses and scratches. By the next morning, you open your door to get your mail when you see him sleeping on your patio. After 5 months, he was officially named Minho. His grey collar around his neck with your address imprinted on it. Spending most of his time annoying the heck out of you. But you still love him. Sometimes his tree tower gets boring so he results in napping on your lap. When you’re not home he looks out the window. Smirking at the dogs who previously chased him. They’re the same stray dogs running around like wild animals while he had a home. He has amazing food, his water is always cleaned along with a litter box how cool is that?! And he has the best human to love him even when he was cold hearted to them at first. He really was glad that piece of chicken brought him a great home and human.

Changbin:

He’s a Rottweiler for sure. He met you at a dog park, his owner was a 7 year old girl. Terrible owner, she was in a family of seven. Four siblings who were very irresponsible and very ignorant. Poor parents, they were too nice which the kids took advantage of. While the youngest of the family was busy brushing Changbin’s thin fur very aggressively, he looked out to the other dogs. Wishing he was running around freely, ironic how they came to the dog park so he can run around freely and yet he still feels the same way as he always does when he’s back at home, encaged. Trapped. As he was looking at the other dogs, he saw one in particular walk in. Jumping in excitement as it’s tail wagged and looked up at its owner. When looking in the direction the dog was staring at. He froze in his spot. The most beautiful human stood there. As if an angel had appeared before him. Like his inner wild animal had just screamed, ‘MINE’ you really were one of a kind. He didn’t know what to do, but what he did know is that if anyone was going to keep wasting more of his time, it definitely would be you. The little girl got distracted when her mother had called her name. Using this distraction, he got up and jogged his way over. The male dog you came with had ran off in joy. As you were sat on the bench and smiling as Seungmin had joined his usually park pal, Felix. You didn’t realize Changbin had made his way over to you until he sat down in front of you.

“Oh! Hello there! Aren’t you a cutie?” You say as you scratch his chin. Changbin felt his heart flutter, getting up from his spot as he got closer to you. Nuzzling his head over your legs. He didn’t know what came over him, it was wrong. Especially when the human he felt so fondly of already had a pet. Changbin smelled the scent Seungmin left on you, he did all that he can to not growl at the thought of another dog scenting you. He knew that if Seungmin were to find out he would definitely not react nicely to a random dog scenting his human. But he couldn’t stop himself, he wanted you. He wanted to go home with you. Heck, he wanted to befriend Seungmin as well and become one big family. One could only imagine. But things did go for the better. Changbin spent most of his time with you and when you had to leave. You saw the family that pertained to Changbin. Seeing how annoyed the older kids looked and how much the parents weren’t doing anything to keep them from giving attitudes to the dogs that ran past them. You had enough when you saw the girl start tugging on Changbin’s collar practically choking him. Hearing his whines broke your heart. Walking over you got the attention of the parents. “That’s no way to let your daughter treat your dog like that. Don’t you see how much he’s hurting?” The parents already looked frustrated enough that their kids were being brats. The youngest started throwing a fit about how she can’t do anything right. Finally the father had enough and exploded. “You guys are all ungrateful! If this is how you guys are with him then you guys don’t deserve him.” Grabbing his lease and clipping it on his collar he walks over and hands it to you. “Keep him, please. He already looks happier with you, I know you’ll do a better job than we can ever do.” Walking off with his family. You stood there bewildered. Mouth agape, but to Changbin he was thrilled. Tail wagging as his mouth was wide, tongue out in content. Looking up at you with adoration. In the distance, Seungmin and Felix looked at the scene before them. A confused Min wondering what the hell had happened. Adjusting was a bit difficult for Changbin. Don’t get me wrong he loved every second with you but because he scented you over the scent Seungmin left on you. He didn’t exactly have a nice bond with Min. He couldn’t be in the same place as Min without him huffing and walking away. Over time, they had gotten closer. Getting used to the fact that they were now sharing their beloved human. Having the same interests, hobbies, and the number one common thing they shared of them all. The love they have for you. Very protective boy. Now when you guys go back to the dog park, he also befriended Felix. But after a while, he runs back to you and sits by your side. Glaring at any dog who dares get a bit too close to you. Nudging your leg when you scold him for being mean to the other dogs. Looking up at you with puppy eyes as a way for you to forgive him. You can’t resist his eyes and blow a kiss at him as you coo at his adorable self. ‘My human’ he thinks. The flutter in his heart still present.

Hyunjin:

He would be a Norwegian Forest Cat. In all honesty, Hyunjin hated your guts. He didn’t know why. Well actually he did. You see he was your grandmother’s baby boy. He was like her child and let’s just say he was SPOILED. You and your family are pretty wealthy. Most of your cousins grew up to be brats and think just because they have money they get to act however they wanted. Your mother although didn’t want anything to do with the family. Ashamed at how her siblings acted and how that affected their kids. The only family member she kept in touch was your grandmother who she loved dearly. Hyunjin had to face your cousins countless of times. They were either brats and hated his presence or wanted to break and shred his bubble and hug the daylights out of him. Either way, they never treated him properly. All the pampering the maids gave him each morning which was brush his hair, put him his nice outfit for the day. Give him a message and more, all went out the window once your cousins came to treat his relaxing day a living hell. So when you came to visit he only assumed you to be just like them. But your grandmother had fallen very ill. So he couldn’t worry too much about your presence, his only concern was his mama. That was until she passed away. He was devastated when he woke up and she didn’t. And if things couldn’t get worse, the day you visited was the day your grandmother had you promise to take care of her little Jinnie for her. You couldn’t say no to her.

But you were running out of ways to get Hyunjin to like you. Or to at least not to scratch the soul out of you. Not only was he grieving for your grandmother but he had to put up with what he thought was one of the many annoying bratty grand children. In the end, you gave up in making amends with him so you kept your distance. You couldn’t give him up and even if he hated you, you made a promise and you were going to stick to it. You tried to stay out of his way most of the time. Waking up early before he did, you cleaned his water and gave him his food. The fancy kind because your grandmother believed a ‘good’ boy like him deserved more than regular dry food. The money your grandmother had left, was given to you and a portion to Hyunjin as well. It was enough to not have you work for the rest of your life but that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to stop doing what you wanted to pursue simply because of money. You still wanted to go out and do what you loved. So yeah, you kept busy. And when you got a promotion, you had less time spent at home. Hyunjin should’ve been glad. Well, he was. That was until he heard you outside. Peaking through the window he saw you crouched down. Helping a stray cat who pretended to look very ill. Cooing at them, you fed them the last bit of your lunch. Rubbing their back as they purred. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. Why were you petting some random cat and not him? You were barely home and now that you are, all the attention is onto a damn cat that doesn’t live here. He knows it was wrong to think this way but he couldn’t help it. You weren’t the annoying brat he thought you were. You were this sweet angel that did nothing but try to make him feel as safe and comfortable as possible. When you entered the house, he felt himself frown when you completely ignored him standing by the door. You didn’t realize this but for the remainder of the day, wherever you went he sorta trailed behind you. Still keeping a distance. When you laid down on your bed, you heard his little meow just as he jumped on the bed. You stopped whatever you were doing and looked at him. Waiting for a hiss or bite about to strike at you. But it never came, instead he lend out a paw on your arm. No claws clawing your arm. Only the soft fur & pad touching your arm. Inching closer and closer, he climbed on top of you and laid there. You smiled softly at him. Hesitant, but pet his head softly. His tail wagging a bit as he took a nap on your chest. Maybe living with you wasn’t so bad. He still smelled the scent on that other cat so he didn’t forget in stretching so far out that every inch of your chest, stomach and neck got covered in his scent. That atta show that stray to stay away from his human.

[the-modernmary]

always been a storm || hotchley (ch 1)

summary: Lots of people wondered about their love story. How they met, how they fell in love, and even how they fell apart. Haley likes to tell their story from end to beginning. Aaron tells it from the beginning to end. Somewhere along the way, they meet, and it always ends with a goodbye.

Author’s Note: This is inspired by the musical The Last Five Years, so I will be following that format. If you aren't familiar with it, it is told in opposite chronological directions from both character's POVs. So Haley's POV will start at the end of the relationship and move backwards, while Hotch's POV is going to start at the beginning and move forward. Hopefully it should be clear as you read. Also, since the writers couldn't decide how old Hotch was, I sort of played around with the years/canon timeline. But canon is just a suggestion anyway.

read on ao3

Haley - 2009

Haley Brooks once told her sister about a boy who kissed her at the Pirates of Penzance cast party. She had said that she could see herself with this boy for the rest of her life and, when the couple got engaged five years later, Haley told her sister that she just knew that she was going to love this boy until the day she died.

Haley Hotchner never could have expected it would end like this: a serial killer, gun pressed to her temple, on the phone with her husband — ex-husband — and no way to protect her 5-year-old son, the little miracle she and Aaron never thought they were going to get.

“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Aaron says through the phone, voice shaking, and Haley has no idea what Aaron could possibly mean by that.

“What?” she asks, even though she knows it’s futile. Years of chasing down serial killers and getting into their minds has made Aaron paranoid. He has backup plans for the backup plans of their backup plans. He has safety plans for anything that could possibly go wrong, some that even Haley doesn’t know, and this must just be another one of those plans.

Aaron repeats himself a little more forcefully, and that’s when Haley knows it’s over for her. At least Aaron is still alive, and not dead like she had been told he was. At least Jack won’t be completely orphaned. It was a small comfort.

 If Jack survives, her brain reminds her unhelpfully, but she pushes that thought down. For all of Aaron’s faults, he’d never let anything happen to Jack. And if the only person Aaron saves is Jack, then Haley can die peacefully. 

  When she hugs Jack, she doesn’t even realize how tightly she’s holding him until he tells her, and it’s with reluctance that she loosens her grip. Logically, she knows it’s safer for Jack to go off and do whatever Aaron told him to do, but the motherly side of her brain is screaming to hold her baby boy to her chest and never let him go. She can keep him safe and protected from the world, she just knows it. She’s protected him this long from the reality of the world - fed him stories of villains and superheroes to try and explain where his dad was and why his dad so often woke up in tears - so she can do it just a while more.

And if she can’t protect him, she selfishly wants to keep Jack close to her for a little longer, for both of their sakes. For Jack, she wants his last memory of her to be one of happiness and love — a final hug from his mom who loves him so, so much. For Haley, well, she needs that last bit of bravery. Aaron keeps telling her to be brave and to not show The Reaper any weakness, but she’s never been that person. She’s always been the emotional and dramatic one of the marriage.

(If she had more time, she might have considered that, no, she actually wasn’t the dramatic one and that up until the bitter end, she had been reasonable and willing to compromise, and it was Aaron who believed the weight of humanity was on his shoulders, despite the fact that he was nothing more than a man. But no one would ever believe that Aaron Hotchner was overemotional, and like most things, it’s just easier to put it on Haley.)

As if reading her mind, Aaron’s voice cuts through the silence. “You’re so strong, Haley, stronger than I ever was,” he assures her, and she can’t find the right words to say, not when her mind is racing a million miles a minute.

 She thinks of her sister, her best friend in the whole world, and how she never got to say goodbye. They had been planning on taking Jack on a weekend camping trip when Haley got pulled into WitSec. There had been no fanfare, no tearful farewell. Just a nondescript car from the hospital to a nondescript building where Haley Brooks went to disappear. She wasn't able to tell Jessica that she loves her or to thank her for everything she had given up for Haley. Now Jessica was going to lose her little sister.

And her dad… God, the last thing Haley did with her dad was fight with him. It was something so stupid, too — Roy had insisted on Jack going into Pop Warner football even after Haley had told him multiple times that she didn’t want Jack starting in such a high contact sport so early on in his life. They had gone back and forth on it for close to an hour before Haley had stormed out in tears because if she had to hear one more word about “Jack needs to develop tougher skin” and “he should be around more male figures, it'll be good for him” as if it was Haley’s fault that Aaron didn’t make it to see Jack the past two weeks, she was going to lose it.

God, she was so bone-deep, achingly exhausted of everything always being her fault. 

“You’ll hurry, right?” she asks, eyes never leaving the Reaper. He’s stalking across the room, gun hanging lazily at his side.

 “I know you didn’t sign on for this,” Aaron starts, and it’s not lost on Haley that he avoided her question.

Still, she doesn’t need an explicit answer from him. The Reaper is behind her now, his hot breath creeping down her neck and the column of her spine, meeting perfectly halfway with the tip of his gun. “Neither did you.”

The conversation somehow switched from comfort to a goodbye without either of them ever realizing it. “I’m sorry for everything.”

The cold steel of The Reaper’s gun nudges against Haley’s back. A braver, tougher person than Haley might have fought back - might have elbowed him in the gut and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine and escaped - but Haley’s accepted her fate. All she’s able to do now is grip the phone a little tighter. It’s the closest thing she has to holding Aaron’s hand one last time.

“Promise me that you will tell him how we met,” she starts, and her voice becomes steadier and more confident than it had in years, “and how you used to make me laugh.”

“Haley…”

She thinks back to the Aaron she met in high school - tall and lanky and smiling despite already feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. She hadn’t seen him smile in so long. Aaron always believed himself to be a protector, and Haley knows that he already blames himself for Sean and Gideon and Spencer. God only knows how far he’ll spiral after this.

“He needs to know that you weren’t always so serious, Aaron.” She takes a grounding breath and says the next part to him directly, hoping that he’ll understand what’s unspoken. “I want him to believe in love. Because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me.”

There’s a long pause that makes Haley’s stomach drop. A million things still need to be said, but she can’t bring herself to say them. She can’t even think, not when she hears the click of The Reaper’s gun cocking. She can’t be brave any longer.

The air in the room seems to get thinner, and Haley gasps desperately to try and get a breath while tears stream freely down her face. She’s going to die alone and Aaron and her son are going to hear it and oh God, Jack is going to be in the house with Foyet and nobody to protect him. Her one job as a mother is to protect her child and she’s going to die a failure. 

They both know what’s going to happen next, but in his own bit of stubbornness, Aaron doesn’t say goodbye. It’s not what she wants to hear, anyway. He decides to give her comfort, a promise that he’ll see through her final wishes, although it’s not the first promise he’s made and broken. Haley wishes she could go out believing him.

BANG

Haley cries out in pain, falling to her knees as white hot pain spreads like a fire through her abdomen. The phone drops out of her hands, but that doesn’t stop her from calling out for Aaron. 

“Aaron… Aaron, help me… Please,” she begs through tears. She wants to hear his voice again, to tell her that it’s going to be okay and that he’s about to burst through the front doors and save her. She wants to hear him say goodbye and that he loves her. 

All she gets is silence from Aaron’s end. The only proof she gets that he’s still on the line is the rumble of the SUV he’s in. Black spots dance in the corners of her vision, so she can only barely make out the Reaper towering above her and the barrel of the gun being pointed towards her face.

Haley calls out for Aaron again, unable to say anything but his name through her sobs. It’s useless to beg for her life, she knows that, yet she still tries. Tries to reach out to him and tell him how sorry she is. Sorry for not being stronger and for not protecting Jack. 

The Reaper raises his gun, and Haley immediately wishes that she had said more to Aaron. She wants him to know that she never stopped loving him and that she doesn’t blame him one bit and that if she had the chance to go back, even knowing how it all was going to end, she absolutely would because Aaron is all—

BANG

[dinthehottotty]

A Thing About Silver (Part 2)

Summary: You face Din after sleeping with Cobb, partially out of spite and fight with Mando. 

Warnings: Angst, smut, gratitious smut. So much. More creampies. Unprotected sex. This is fanfiction. USE PROTECTION. Slight Dom!Din

A/N: I enjoyed writing this wayyyy too much. Good luck. Also I rushed a little bit towards the end cause I’m tired.

Part 1

Mando was moved on to cleaning his blaster now, still waiting. It made you sick.

Ducking your head, you shuffle through the sand and don't bother to look at him as you approach the little dome. He doesn't say anything as you climb the steps he sits on and wordlessly move toward the building.

Sleep called for you.

Leather snatches your wrist, not delicate at all. "Look at me," he manages. It's got no bite. No edge. It's soft and coaxing. Too sweet for your eager ears because now tears are welling in your eyes again at the shame. Immediately you know the truth of things. There is no illusion that you've truly and sorely fucked up. The worry in his voice twists you apart. Would you ever be able to repair the shot your hurt pride took?

Instead you squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back, desperately hoping that he won't insist. But it's Din. "Please, look at me," he begs. The attempt to steel yourself and stand your ground crumbles like the sand in your boots.

"I can't," you manage, voice breaking harshly. "Let me go." You pull your hand away and trudge into the little room he'd rented. The child was long since passed out in his floating crib. There was a tiny kitchenette in the corner, one that had been cleaned but a bowl still sat at the table. Then there was a bed and a sofa. Toward the back sat a door, you assume to the 'fresher.

You can hear Din following behind you, heavy boots making the floors creak. "You should eat something," he tries, voice turning tense but he's still just as soft as before. Instead of listening, you move toward the sofa and sink down on it, the fresh tears hot on your cheeks.

There is a split second between when he moves around and sees the tears, and him reaching for you. "Don't," you rasp.

"Did he hurt you?" He snarls, despite his gentleness of his hands flutter over you.

"No," you snap back at him. Finally glaring deep into the visor of his helm. It lasts only a moment. "No, Din, he didn't do anything wrong." You sniffle and fixate on a spot on the wall, then stop fighting the urge and curl in on yourself. How could you sit here and feel sorry for yourself when you'd ruined everything so easily. All for a quick fuck. (Well, not necessarily quick.) You'd pushed and prodded, always hoping for a different reaction but deep down, you'd always known the truth. Din didn't love you in that way.

He paces across the floor in front of you, very quiet, very anxious. Despite feeling the increasing anxiety from it, you decide to push it down. Your own frustration twisting and tightening like a coil. The air was heavy.

That is until your eyes fall on the floating cradle in the corner. Your heartaches, you weren't just losing Din. The kid would go with him.

You had two options. This was an ugly sore that neither of you could ignore. Should you try to resolve it now? Best case, you ride out this wave of shame and stick with Din and the child. They were home to you, but you'd be subjected to the truth that Din would never love you in this way. Trust was probably broken and until you both had mended from the hurt of the situation, the ship couldn't sail smoothly. You'd have to learn to not love Din in that manner, if that was possible. You fear that it would make you bitter. How long would you be staying with Din? Until the kid was gone? Would he be okay after he'd delivered him? Should you both spend the next few nights thinking and settling on your stupidity or would that just encourage further brewing? You didn't know if you could trust yourself to stay level headed or not burst into wails if Din so much as raised his voice.

But you needed it. You need him to scream at you about your recklessness. You needed to be shamed because how could you possibly take Din being this sweet and worried about you. Bile worked it's way up from your stomach, fighting with burning fingertips.

His pacing froze, seeming to watch you with distress, but you couldn't tear your blurred eyes from the levitating bassinette.

"Are you going to leave me?" He asks, his voice much firmer than before.

"I..." You start but slowly trailed off. There were too many words in your head. It was muddled and confused. In the very center of it was the enormous weight of shame and guilt. The utter dread cored from them but gravitating all of the negativity that surrounds your situation. It was tossing you in the oceans of panic, you were drowning. Din's anxiety was driving him to go rigid.

The idea of going to sleep was teasing you. Your eyelids were heavy. What time was it even? It was an empty thought. You wouldn't sleep. Just chasing your tail endlessly.

Din is moving between you and the kid and you realize the possessive tone his voice had carried. The real question was he wanted to ask was 'are you going to try to steal my child?' and he had obviously taken that as a threat. How this must look, you gazing longingly at the sleeping babe in his cradle and not giving the man a true answer.

Your eyes move up the curves of beskar that blocked your view of the little one. More hurt is rising. He wasn't worried you'd leave. He was worried you'd take the wrinkly green baby. Somehow you felt the need to blame the metal that separated him from you. You didn't normally curse the only think that had kept him alive this long, but it seemed to mock you like in Cobb's hut. It spurs a dangerous thought.

If Din wanted to fight, you'd fight.

"Wouldn't you like that? Like me to just walk away?" You hiss, rising off the couch to stare at him. Din's helmet doesn't waver a bit as you close in enough to see the puffiness of your eyes.

"Do you want to walk away?" He snaps back.

"Wouldn't that be easier!" You give a sarcastic laugh. "One of your problems could just walk away! Just say it! Just say you want me to leave you alone!" You shove at his chest weakly.

"Stop," he orders sharply. "You don't know what your talking about."

"Really!? Are you kriffing kidding, Din?"

"You need to eat and go to bed."

"Do you somehow have this sick notion that I'm your kid, too? Because I'm not! I am not a child! I am a hurt, angry, and frustrated adult woman!"

Din places his hands on his hips and towers over you. "Stop putting words in my mouth. Where are you even getting these ideas?"

"You treat me like a kid! I'm trying to show you I'm not one!"

"Well, you're acting worse than one right now!" He snarls through his modulator. You grit your teeth at his response. That one hurt. You knew it was true, the spotchka from tonight had left early tonight. It hadn't been enough to truly get you drunk.

"I have no problem listening to you when you give me a damn reason! Just fucking explain things!"

"I don't want to argue with you." He resolves.

"THERE IT IS!" You nearly screech. "That! You barely give me any scraps! You are so fucking hard to read sometimes and I fucking hate it! All I wanted was you to tell me 'no' tonight but instead you just stared! YOU JUST WATCHED ME WALK AWAY!" Din's visor drops at that. It's not trained on you, but off to the side, down towards the floor. "I COULDN'T EVEN ENJOY IT BECAUSE YOU WERE FUCKING THERE THE WHOLE TIME LIKE SOME DEVIL!" You break, sobbing.

His head twists up. "What?"

"You just stare and mock and-"

"I have never mocked you," he butts quieter than before.

"Why didn't you say 'no'?" You snap, eyes blazing, needing an answer.

He only gives you silence. You squeeze your lips into a hard line in the deafening scream of it. Shaking your head, you twist away. "Fucking great," you mutter to yourself.

A hand reaches tentatively for you, it brushes over the underside of your wrist and onto your palm. "What do you mean I was there?" He asks softly.

"You don't get to do that," you warn him, drawing your hand away again. Normally, you would blissfully sunk into his rare touch but you couldn't shake off the fire that was filling you. Guilt was nagging the back of your mind, knowing you were punishing good behavior. It was fruitless. He didn't want to touch you like that. "You don't get to answers from me while avoiding your own. That's not fair to me!"

Din sighs, turning his head to the side. "I'm... I'm not always good... with words." That one hurts more than you expect to. This man was bound to carve you up and spit you out.

You stop, turning your head towards him. You can see him shift his weight, stepping closer. He's standing right behind you. For the millionth time, you wished that fucking armor wasn't blocking his expressions from you.

"I... don't, just so you know."

"Don't what?"

"Want you to leave."

"Why don't I believe that?" You prod, still feeling antagonistic. Din steps closer, he grasps your arm and turns you. He twists you about so suddenly and forcefully that you're taken by surprise. A gasp leaves you when he suddenly grasps your face.

The air stills as you vibrate with the sudden aggression he's showing. His boots hit hard and heavy. Each step is slow and steady, his helmet only inches from your face that he's tilting up in the borderline painful grip he's got on your face. He's forcing you to walk backwards, supporting your form with the other hand that's gripping your arm. Air is suddenly harder to acquire. The air twisting tightly. "Bruise your cervix?" He prompts lowly. It drags across his tongue, extra ragged. "Use you. Make you feel something." It's not possible for your heart to beat out of your chest but when he's done walking you backwards, you feel like it will.

The air has changed, charged with the electricity of anticipation rather than shame and rage.

"Did Cobb do that?" He asks, nearly whispering. It's not an accusation. You glance towards the bassinette where the kid still sleeps, amazingly.

"I used him," you admit, shame filling you, he doesn't give you the opportunity to dwell on it too long because he's shoving you backwards onto something soft. The bed.

Cue the swell of disbelief. Mando leans down and immediately starts working at your pants, tugging them open effectively. He gathers the edges in his hands just as you remember what is currently leaking from between your thighs. You gasp out, "Din, wait!" much softer than you intend. Your voice failing you in the way you need it to.

Too late. He tugs the fabric down your legs effectively. Once glance tells you enough, he's staring at the mess that is was made between your thighs. "You let him cum in you?" His helm tilts up to your face that you cover with your hands. Your brain is too busy trying to decide if he's awed or offended by the newly reveled information. You try to press your thighs together.

"I'm sorry," you plead between the palms on your face.

Din hooks his hands roughly under your knees and jerks. You're dragged over the bed until your bare ass is seated at the end of the bed and then he pushes your knees up and apart and just... just stares. It's enough of a sight to have you peaking from behind your hands. "Are you sore?"

Fuck, you were supposed to be fighting not... not... well, what even was this? Some kind of slut-shaming? Was it bad that you were this turned on by it. The morbid curiosity was battling the mortification at being examined by the Mandalorian bounty hunter in this manner. His fingers were squeezing and massaging where they rested under your knees, trying to coax an answer from you. "Ah... a little, I suppose."

"Doesn't sound bruised to me."

You gulp.

"Don't move." How could you? You were petrified and incredibly, embarrassingly aroused. He lifts his hands from your legs, leaving you hanging on whatever he decided to torture you with.

The last thing you expect is for those gloves to make their way to his belt and unbuckle it. "I said, 'don't move'," he repeats, pausing in his movements. It's only when he says that you notice you've propped yourself up to get a better view of him. Suddenly bashful, you sink back down to your back. "Open them further," he rumbles lowly. None of his words seem to have any aggression despite his aggressive actions. His town maybe low and he might be ordering you around but there is no real bark to him. It's raspy in a way that you've never heard from him. Drawn out slow in a way that indicates he's in no rush. The balance has you spinning.

But fuck, pulling his pants open and you nearly wheeze when a he palms your forehead, pushing it back into the bed while he reaches within the confides of his clothes. Your left with only a view of the ceiling and his wrist. His bronzed skin peaks out just a hair. "You don't get to look."

"Oh, shit," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut. What sort of wet dream were you stuck in? There was no way-

Something runs across your most sensitive area, something too thick to be a finger. You gasp and arch as it hits your oversensitive clit right off the bat. A little 'ah' leaves you for only a moment. "It's your eyes," he says and you think you've missed something when he wheezes it out. Then he lines up and slowly, maker, so slowly and completely unhindered, he's breaching you with the cock you've been dreaming of for months. You give a torn moan and arch up, grasping at the sheets. Still it's quiet because of all the things tonight, this is the last thing you want the kid seeing. "Ca-can't speak when... when you look at me." Heat blooms in your chest. He's still pushing deeper. He sinks against your cervix like no one's done before and pushes against it. When his pelvis meets yours, it's stretching you almost painfully. Your cervix is straining at the intrusion. It's lewd how wet it sounds already.

"Din," you sigh.

He gives a shaky groan when you squeeze around him. "Sh-should've told you 'no'," he admits, drawing back. And then he drives back in with force enough to make you cry out, and open further for him. "Ruin you," he murmurs with such a slur you wonder if he's drunk on it. And then his hips start to canter deep and hard. Not fast. Just deep and hard, stretching you beyond what you think you can. You're left mewling and trembling beneath him. "Should go... shove my...," he curses and his hand shifts from your forehead to your throat. "Shove my blaster, ah, kriff, down Vanth's throat."

Wait, he was jealous? Fuck, did that make you clamp down on him.

"Shit, like that?" He rasps out, still like he's whispering to you. "Want you," he promises, lower down so his chest is pinning you to the bed. He's so heavy, but you don't feel like you're breathing anyway. "All the time."

Please, don't let this be another delusion. Please.

"Did-did you just say... say that you saw me... to piss me off?" He urges.

"No," your arms tangle around him, grasping for purchase on his back. "No, I want you so- Kriff! Feels so good - want you so bad, s-saw you the whole time." He shudders in your hold, rolling the cool helmet against your neck as he continued his unhurried pace. He was going to kill you at this rate. "Please," you beg, "Please, Din. F-faster. Need it."

"No, I'm using you," he responds. A hand grips your hip and it's like he doesn't know whether he wants to push you further into the bed or pull you closer.

A familiar feeling rises in you, another orgasm creeping closer. The thought is pushed from your mind as the other hand covers your eyes. The one gripping your hip disappears and then something drops onto the bed. "Don't... don't look." Unmodulated and raw. Din is kissing you then. His mouth wet and hot and welcoming in this inferno of a hut.

He tastes so good and his tongue slips against yours eagerly. You would tear your eyes out if it meant you could feel his soft stubble against your mouth like this. You moan into his mouth and he eats it up with a particularly hard thrust. "Stay," he groans. "Be mine, be mine, be mine, bemine, beminebeminebemine...." he mantras like he can't breathe. His hips are finally moving faster.

"Yours," you promise, "Yours, yours, yours." You've lost your mind, unable to even conjure why you were mad at him in the first place because this sweet haze was too thick to look through and it takes you a moment to realize it’s a slow orgasm releasing. It’s not overwhelming, it’s just hot and sticky. It has you stretching across the sheets. His teeth sink into your neck as you shake below him. He settles down when you begin your own mantra. Instead, he grinds deeply into you. You're only vaguely aware of the way you both grasp and tug each other closer.

It's not long after before he spills himself into you with a string of expletives. "I'm sorry," he whispers against your neck. It's so nice to feel his breath for once.

"Me too." And nothing else seemed to be needed for it. It's not long before he's rocking his hips and spill his own seed out around himself.

You kind of like his beskar in this instance. The room feels too hot and it's cool against you both. Yeah, you could get used to this. Maybe tomorrow you'll remember what you're supposed to be fighting about.

Taglist: 

@lxdyred​, and I promised to tag you in this, Ava, have some iffy smut. @buttercup--bee​

[make-me-imagine]

Red Roses: “I Love You” - Clint Barton Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Clint Barton

Triggers: Mention of gunfire/violence (very brief)       

Words: 1,678 

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @thebookbakery​​, @fablesrose​​, @kitkatd7​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​, @beksib​​, @destynelseclipsa​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​, @snarky--starky​​, @saintbootlegloras​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​, @empath-bunny​​, @okkulta​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​ ,  @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​

February 14th

You ducked down behind the car as one of the assailants fired his gun at you, peaking out after hearing a grunt followed by a thud, you see him lying on the ground, stun-arrow stuck to his back. Your eyes dart to where the arrow came from as Clint and Natasha came out of the building. 

“Took you guys long enough!” you yelled as you threw a stun grenade into the building where you heard men coming from to chase after you “What happened you get lost?” you quipped as you all began running back to the car.

“Whats your hurry, got somewhere to go?” Clint asked eyeing you with a smile as you all jumped into the cars. 

“Maybe I do, what’s it matter to you?” you asked as you caught the hard drive Natasha tossed you. Unseen by you, Natasha and Clint shared an amused look as you all caught your breath.

You had suddenly been sent on this mission this morning when you found out that two home-terror groups were sharing dangerous information and SHIELD secrets. Finding out about a drop of the hard drive you were sent to retrieve it. 

“I never knew you to be interested in any of Tony’s parties.” Natasha said.

“I’m not” you replied simply as you plugged the hard drive into a computer. 

“Why not? Should be fun.” Clint said.

You remained silent as you began hacking the hard drive, ignoring Clint’s comment, but unable to ignore the heavy beating of your heart. 

After getting back to the SHIELD office you were heading back to the tower, Natasha fell into step beside you “So, are you excited about tonight?”

You glanced at her quickly “I don’t know.” you said truthfully. You had told her about what tonight would bring, the truth about your admirer. You hadn’t told Clint, because, well, you wanted it to be him more than any of the others, and you were afraid that talking to him about it, would make it too obvious, or maybe he would be to obvious about it not being him. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine” she said, as if to console you.

Entering into the tower, you see various Valentines decorations littering the front entrance all the way to the elevator. You and Natasha stopped as you looked around, none of it had been there when you left. Feeling a presence behind you, you realized Clint had entered.

“Wow. Looks like Cupid threw up in here.” he joked before brushing past you.

You and Natasha smiled as you followed behind him, all three of you had to rush to get ready, the party was starting in about an hour and you were sure you all looked like hell after having a firefight. 

- - -

After quickly taking a shower, and getting ready, you sat on the edge of your bed as you slipped on your shoes. Taking the silent moment to really think about what might happen in the coming evening. 

You tried your best to be accepting of the fact that it could be any of the others who might confess to you tonight, and you tried convincing yourself that you would be alright with it being any of them. And in a way you were. 

But, thinking more about it being Clint, made you feel more excited and hopeful that it being any of the others. And thinking about it, not, being Clint, made you the most disappointed. You had known each other for years, he is the reason you became an Avenger in the first place. He knows almost everything about you, and you about him. He makes you comfortable, he makes you smile, laugh, and he makes you feel safe. 

Looking over at your desk, your eyes land on a series of photo booth photos of you and Clint you had pinned up. You went undercover as a couple once a few years back and took them. It ended up being one of the funnest nights of your life, even through the spying and fighting. He had a matching set of photos tucked away also, his favorite of them all, torn off and placed safely in his wallet. But this, you didn’t know.

Checking the clock, you take a breath as you stood and left your room, the party had begun. Once you got to the party you were a bit intimidated with how many people had already shown up. ‘How many people did Tony invite?’ you thought to yourself as you scanned the room.

You jumped slightly when an arm slipped through your own. Looking over you see Natasha by your side as she looked around the room too “I don’t even know who have of these people are. And that’s impressive for being a spy.” You smiled at her comment, feeling comforted by her presence as you both walked further into the room.  

The first hour of the party seemed to go by quickly as you spent most of it greeting and chatting with some of the guests, per Tony’s request. Walking away from a particularly perverse man, you rolled your eyes as you walked into the other room, someone falling into step beside you. 

“Someone certainly pissed you off.”

You turned to look at Clint with a look of disdain “If I had to hear one more suggestion about what would make my superhero costume look “better” I was going to deck him.”

Clint snorted as he took a sip of his drink before setting it on an empty tray in a waiters hand. Reaching out his hand he looked at you “Dance?”

You looked from him and into the crowded room of slow-dancers, you hesitated “Ehh, I don’t know, you know I’m not much of a-”

“Oh come on” he smiled as he took your hand in his and all but dragged you further into the room. As he brought your intertwined hands up, and set his other on your waist he smiled at you as you began to move with the music “You’re a great dancer. And I say that as the guy who taught you in the first place.” 

You smiled at the reference back to an undercover mission you had been on, that involved going to very rich man’s party. “Now you’re just trying to boost your own ego. As if I didn’t crush your toes more than a few times.” 

“Hey, I got over it, and you got better.” 

“We’ll see, it has been a while.” 

“You’re doing fine.” He said honestly with a small smile that made your heart pound. 

You chatted through the rest of the song, and as the next started Clint paused as he looked around “I have something for you.”

Queue the rapid beating heart again “What?” you asked. 

Reaching into his suit pocket, carefully, he pulled out a single, delicate, half-bloomed rose. You froze as you stared down at it as he handed it to you. You stared at in in surprise before you glimpsed up at him, your eyes briefly scanning the people behind him, noting that they were all preoccupied with their partners. 

“Clint, this is...”

“A confession.” he finished.

You met his eyes “So it was you the whole time?”

He smiled while gesturing his head “Yeah well, I guess I just couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with my best friend.”

If your heart could beat so hard out of your chest, this was the moment. “What?” you almost whispered out. 

He took a small step closer so that your faces were mere inches apart as he brought up his hand to gentle brush the side of your face “I’m saying I love you Y/n. Have for quite a while actually.” 

Unable to stop yourself you all but leaped forward and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight embrace making him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you. He spoke into your ear “I’m hoping this is a good reaction.”

You pulled away with a laugh “Yes it is Clint. I- “ you hesitated, out of fear and excitement before whispering out “I love you too.”

Clint grinned at your words before he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. Both of you smiled into the kiss before pulling away. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a hell of a long time.” 

Your smile continued to beam at him as he said this, before he reached out and pulled you closer, his hand intertwined in your again. Leaning in, you kissed again before pulling away as he began to sway your bodies again in time with the music “Natasha knew didn’t she?” you asked, thinking back on all the times you and her had talked about it. 

“How could she not? Besides, she helped me deliver them on a few occasions.” he smirked making you smile and shake your head as you thought back to that day in the gym.  

“So why the flowers and the notes? I knew you were a romantic, but even for you this is a bit...dramatic, not to mention patient.” 

He chuckled “Oh trust me, there were times I almost gave in and just told you. But, I heard you talking to some of the others about Valentines a while back, you know when you guys were laughing about how they put all that Valentines stuff in stores two months before? And I heard you mention that you’ve never really had a Valentine before, so I thought, hey what the hell, I’ll be your Valentine.” he finished with a cheesy smile that made you giggle.

“Well.” you paused “I couldn’t have asked for a better Valentine that you.”

He smiled fondly at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Moving to rest your head against his shoulder he pressed a kiss to the side of your temple as you continued to dance. Both of you unaware of the grinning and giggling Natasha and Wanda watching from the corner of the room.

xx xx xx xx xx

If you liked it, please consider reblogging and checking out the rest of the endings!~ :)

[that-good-trash]

Burn Away With Me 3

Shoto Todoroki x reader / Dabi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of death and blood, profanity, kidnap, murder, Angst

Word count: 10K

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Kidnap and murder usually go hand in hand but not like this. The world thinks your dead and you have to watch them mourn you like a princess locked away in a tower. Except princes don’t look for dead girls. You might just have to rely on the villain who took you.   

Comment: Holy Shit, I am so sorry this took so long and that I haven’t been posting anything new. School just started again and I am a full time student and employee. I have a few other fics in progress and there will be a part four to this fic, which will be the conclusion. Thank you all for sticking around still and just bear with me. This chapter is long and I hope there aren’t to many errors with grammar or spelling. I hope you enjoy and please look forward to my next fics which I hope to post this week. 

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Endeavor was a clever man with years of getting what he wanted tucked under his belt. He wasn’t intimidated by his son. He thought of his son as a tool not a human being with feelings and emotions that mattered. He had tried to be that guy and failed. His wife wanted nothing to do with him and neither did his oldest son. He showed them that he could change and yet they didn’t forgive him so what was the point of changing. He reverted back to the piece of shit he was so good at being. If he couldn’t be Number 1 and a ‘good’ dad then fine. A hero it is, despite the fact that he wasn’t a good hero either. Just a narcissistic asshole who beats people down with no remorse and would do anything to get what he wanted. Even kill you, even kill his own son. You and Dabi had ‘murdered by Endeavor’ on your personal resumes.

Now Shoto was standing his ground against the man who continues to take the things he loves. His flames dance around his body waiting to be released like hell hounds against his father. The ice cracks when Endeavor lifts his foot. He seems amused, like this is all a game. He wants Shoto to fall apart because it’s easier to control him when he isn’t all there. Shoto won’t let that happen, not when he needed to get revenge, if not for you then himself.

“TALK YOU BASTARD!” Shoto Todoroki was anything but a loud man. He wasn’t overly confrontational so this was a big change in his personality. Endeavor quirked a brow before his booming laugh pushed against the walls of his office. He steps forward knowing that his son will respond defensively. Ice shards jut forward almost striking the flame bearded man. He laughs before grabbing the overgrown frozen stalagmites melting them in seconds. His ice was strong but fire was still fire and couldn’t be overcome by a chill. His own fire pushed against Shoto’s as he approached. Shoto stood his ground, his hair had risen slightly dancing with his flames that were now reflecting in his eyes. His father glowers down at him neither of them willing to end this in a civil manner.

“I didn’t kill her but I am glad she is gone. You will mourn and hurt for now but in time she will be nothing but a painful memory. You can’t waste your time chasing rumors, trying to kill me. If you believe ever rumor out there then you would have to believe that you killed her or that she is actually alive. See how foolish those ideas are. You are just ruining your youth and if you kill me then you will spend the rest of your life behind bars. Would it be worth it Shoto?” He knows what to say to hurt his son. How could he forget about you? He couldn’t forget even if you wanted too. You were the better half of his life. You weren’t sunshine on a stormy day; no, you took him out in the rain and made him dance with you in it. He learned to love and be loved when you came into his life. Walking away now, giving up, was not a choice. He didn’t care about prison bars or the death sentence.

“Killing you, regardless of circumstance, would be worth everything.” The flames burned against each other as Shoto lifted his hand toward his fathers’ face. The flames disappeared at the sound of knocking on the door. Both men, despite having stopped their quirks, still looked at each other with intention to kill. “Come it.”

Midoriya opened the office door flinching slightly due to how hot the knob was. He walked into the room feeling the drastic change in temperature. The hallway was cool but the closer he got to Endeavors office the warmer it was. This however was extreme; he could feel the air stick to him from the increased humidity. He gripped his shirt pulling it in and outward trying to get a cool breeze.  Shoto never looked away from his father even when he heard Midoriya clear his throat.

“Um, what’s going on in here.” The green haired boy lifted his foot, his shoes were damp from the puddles accumulating from Shoto’s ice. The walls had a heavy amount of condensation and it seemed like there were char marks on the flooring and parts of the ceiling. Midoriya knew whatever answer he was about to receive it wasn’t going to be the truth. “Pro Hero Deku, you have stumbled across a misunderstanding. My son is just emotional over his girlfriend’s de-”

“Fiancé. She wasn’t just my girlfriend, we were engaged. I was going to marry her and that’s not going to happen because you ki-”

“Because she was murdered by someone whose still out there. You should be hunting that person down instead of harassing me. Deku, if you wouldn’t mind this is over and I have other things to attend to.” Shoto was seething with hatred that scared even Midoriya who never got to see the boy like this. Endeavor turned away from the boys knowing that Shoto wouldn’t attack with Midoriya there. Shoto clenched his fist before turning and storming out of the room. He didn’t blame Midoriya for this interruption but he was upset by it. The rushed footsteps of Midoriya could be heard chasing down the revenge obsessed male.

“What the heck was that?” Midoriya had been trying to get ahold of Shoto, not for business but as a friend. He knew that Shoto was taking your death hard and everyone was worried about his reclusive distant behavior. Hell, even Bakugou was ‘worried’ about your fiancé. “Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t involve you.”

Shoto doesn’t get to take another step as Midoriya grabs him yanking his shoulder around to face him. Midoriya stared at Shoto with a look that he had seen to many times in his life. He had seen this concerned determined face all those years ago at the festival and has continued to see it every time something concerning happens that Shoto doesn’t cope well with.

“Don’t worry about it? How can I not worry when my best friend isn’t answering anyone’s calls? Doesn’t involve me! I don’t know what you were doing or talking about with your dad and maybe that doesn’t involve me but you’re my best friend.” Midoriya is breathing heavy from speaking with no break. He looks down after removing his hand from Shoto’s shoulder. His face goes from determined and concerned to downhearted. When his eyes meet Shoto’s again they both share a common emotion, hopelessness. “Also, this does involve me, I was her friend too. I care about her; everyone cares about her. We all miss her Todoroki! I know your suffering but you aren’t alone. You are isolating yourself and its not good for you. Please Shoto, talk to me.”

Shoto searches Midoriya’s eyes for any emotions other than loss and sorrow. He wants to walk away and pretend like this never happened. He thinks suffering alone is better than relying on the people around him. He hadn’t even been back to your shared home, nor had he returned to his childhood home. Instead he locked himself away in a hotel room surrounding himself with your things and any media that could drive him to kill his father. He watched videos and read articles about the disgusting man’s feats and failures. He waited for the perfect moment while clinging to your fading scent on the clothing you left behind. He was a truly broken man and even though he was a hero his intents match a certain cerulean eyed villain. There were a million things that lingered on Shoto’s tongue, words that would never get to be said. He wanted to talk, hell he wished he could have been like his classmates crying their hearts out while sharing in-depth stories but every time he picked up his phone to call or text, he saw the photo of you he had saved as his background. A picture of you smiling carefree while the sun casts rays of light that shimmer off your skin. Your hair is frozen in a windy mess behind you. Your eyes are staring at him with so much happiness and love that it hurts. It wasn’t taken on some special day or under certain circumstance, it was just a simple photo taken on a simple walk. You didn’t understand why he chose the photo yet he was overly fond of it. When the picture stared at him, he couldn’t call his friends. He just stared into your eyes wishing to see the real ones. He missed your loving gaze, he missed any look you had as long as it was toward him, even if it was anger. He wanted anything but this. Having to seek comfort in a photo was cause for heartache.

Shoto pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at the photo, before looking at Midoriya. The words still sit behind his lips, tingling, willing his to speak.

“I have nothing to say Midoriya.” Midoriya had waited with bated breath for Shoto to tell him something, anything. He could see it in his friend’s eyes, he knew there were many things that needed to be said. The response he was given punched him in the gut. He would have doubled over in pain if the punch wasn’t metaphorical. Midoriya wasn’t the type to let things go and as he watched Shoto turn around, his legs taking him god knows where. Midoriya ran after him, Shoto ignored the chase and left. He ignored the calls of his name as he exited the agency. He had to come up with a new plan. His hands found comfort in his pockets as he tried to blend in with the darkness. He heard his name echo as he turned the corner out of view. What was there to say now. If he told Midoriya what his plan was then he would try to stop him. Midoriya tried to follow but found himself in front of an alleyway of ice. He sighed pushing his hand against it. He imagined that this was the same ice that now lived in Todoroki’s heart. You were the fire that balanced it, but you were gone now.

“I wish you were here Y/n. You would know how to help him.” How ironic to need a dead person’s help when they were technically the cause of the problem. Even more ironic was while this occurred you were very much alive, asleep with your book still clutched in your hand blissfully unaware of Shoto’s unraveling mental state and morals.

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“Good morning doll.” Usually you’d snap at Dabi for his pet name but you had gotten used to it. By now you were more like roommates, he paid rent and shopped while you did everything else. You’d never admit to being used to this life but somehow another week had passed giving you no other choice. You followed every news cast and read every paper that came out hoping to read that Endeavor had died or been critically injured. It was cruel but necessary to survive and return to Shoto. Except the disappointment had to kick in after a week of nothing. No murder or injuring occurred. You started to think maybe Dabi didn’t have as strong a hold as he thought, worst case you thought Shoto didn’t care anymore. Maybe he had given up on you. A smack to your arm caught your attention as Dabi hit you before thrusting the newest paper toward you. You snatched it up faster than he could blink. He scoffed at your pathetic gesture. He had started hating watching your face fill with hope only to be disappointed by more hero news and never any good old fashion bad news. Your mood would drop and maybe a few tears would slip away. He wasn’t irritated with you, no he hated how you did this to yourself. He knew this wasn’t paradise and that playing dead was draining. He just wished that you could relax more. He had seen your smile and heard you laugh and those moments stayed with him. He watched you now waiting. You never cried, instead you crumpled the paper. You threw it on the ground before leaving the small kitchen table. You fled the room with what seemed like betrayal and anger. The bathroom door slammed shut. This was new, not the usual reaction, now he had to read the paper. It was crumpled and torn slightly in parts but he could read it, however there was really no reason to read it when the front cover was a large candid shot of pro hero Shoto smiling with his arm around some upstart, some young female sidekick. The picture must have hurt you but Dabi knew that it was faked. The smile never reached the heroes eyes. They were dead with you. The girl was all too happy to be getting a photo with Shoto. It was publicity, the media trying to make things interesting again. The article headline read Pro Hero Shoto Mending His Broken Heart With New Love Interest? Dabi actually laughed at how pathetic it was. He continued to read about this new girl and Shoto’s love for her. It mentioned her story about how she always looked up to Shoto, how he made her strive to work harder. Shoto couldn’t be bothered to comment. Dabi leaned back in his chair smirking. This was a part of someone’s plan, whether or not it was Endeavors pathetic attempt at changing the narrative or Shoto’s attempt at distracting the media while he goes after his true goal. Either way someone was pulling the strings with this little media shake up. Dabi chucked the paper onto the table not caring for its fake news. He knew what needed to be done and he didn’t like it.

A knock on the bathroom door brought you away from the storm of thoughts brewing. You had been under the, now cold, faucet for a while now. Two things were prominent in your thoughts, killing your fiancé or the girl who dared claim him. You weren’t stupid, you could put two and two together, they weren’t actually romantic interest. However, that didn’t stop you from imagining showing up at his agency with hells fury behind you. You could imagine the pure fear that people would have watching a dead girl attempt to kill her widow. If you didn’t go after him, you’d find this girl and make her regret the day she thought she could have him. You weren’t dead so watching him potentially move on made your blood boil. He got to live like a normal human while you were trapped. You were stuck enclosed in the same rooms till god knows when. You clenched your fist aware of the missing digit, another thing you lost because of this whole mess that shouldn’t have involved you. Another knock brought your attention to the door. The water stopped as your prune fingers turned the faucet off. You let your back fall against the cold tile before slipping to the tub. You refused to cry because he didn’t deserve your tears right now. No matter the truth, you were pissed at him. No tears or tight chest, just pure unadulterated anger. Dabi finally opened the door not caring if you’d yell at him. He went to pull the curtain aside but was stopped. Your fingers gripped it tightly to prevent it from moving. “What do you want Dabi.”

“I want you doll.” A scoff could be made out behind the curtain. You rolled your eyes but he only heard your sound. He leaned against the warm and slightly damp wall waiting for a witty response or reply of disgust. You remained quiet. “I want you to get off the shower floor and get some clothes on. I got a surprise waiting for you.”

With nothing left to say Dabi left you alone. You had low expectation when it came to a surprise from your kidnapper. Hell at least Belle was given a castle and had company in the form of talking dishware. A literal beast was outdoing Dabi, but that was to be expected since fairy tales were fake and Dabi wasn’t a prince. You didn’t rush to get ready which was fine by Dabi. He sat on the couch waiting with all the necessary parts of his gift. Once you dried off and had clothing on you walked into the living room. You didn’t get to far before a bag was thrown at you. Eyes wide you move quickly to catch it before it could hit you or the ground. In the bag was a strange variety of items, that separate made no sense but together made a brilliant gift. With raised brows you pull out the first item which is a wig, with hair color different then your actual hair color, that looks so real you almost check for scalp pieces. Dabi gestures for you to keep going. With the wig on the table you pull out a small case, in it a pair of contacts that were very different from your actual eye color. The gifts were staring to create more questions and concern than pleasure or happiness. The next few items were miscellaneous pieces of clothing, all dark clothed and plain enough that they would bring attention to you. A scarf and glasses also appeared from the bottom of the bag. The only theory that you could piece together made you laugh at how ridiculous it was. The more you looked at the items on the table together the more you realized that maybe it wasn’t ridiculous. You look at Dabi skeptically as you point to the confusing surprise. “What the hell is this.”

“It’s a disguise.” Your heart stopped for a second. Could this really be happening? You look at him with pleading eyes begging for this to be real and not some kind of sick joke or trick. “You’re gonna need it to leave the apartment.”

There was no way that this was real. You must have died for real. You suck in a breath, holding it in while your chest shakes with your shoulders. You are trying to prevent yourself from crying. You still refused to believe this cruel trick. The costume pieces sat staring at you, this was farfetched. Dabi was expecting more excitement, to be praised, he should have expected that you would be skeptical.  Instead of criticizing you he walks up next to before smacking your back. “Go get ready I’m not waiting all day.”

“Yes okay, I’ll be right back. You are not allowed to change your mind!” You had never moved so fast before in your life. Before being kidnapped you would have spent a good amount of time preparing to go out, especially with Shoto but right now you were throwing everything on with haste. You pulled on a pair of black leggings and over those a simple enough deep blue skirt. It was above your knees and for a moment you felt like a high schooler again. The top was long sleeve and didn’t matter because a hoodie went right over it. The hoodie wasn’t bulky and instead was light weight and thinner. The hood was most likely to hide your face if necessary. The wig was most likely the most expensive item because it was definitely not a costume one. You had to giggle since it looked like you were cosplaying. Your contact covered eyes stared back at you in the mirror, your fingers ran through the wig. You didn’t look like you and this made you feel like you were being reborn. You were still Y/n and yet the girl that stared back wasn’t her. You were dead and this girl was alive, it was almost riveting. When you walked out of the bathroom Dabi looked you over, he smirked nodding with a look that told you he was impressed. You pretended like you didn’t care but you did. A little good attention wasn’t bad to want. You were starved for it so it was no shock that you didn’t shy away from his. You walked toward the door but he was faster blocking the exit. Your heart dropped thinking he was going to laugh and tell you this was a joke. Instead he placed the fake glasses onto your face. “There are a few rules your gonna have to follow.”

Relief washed over you as your fingers brushed the cool metal that framed the fake lenses. You listen to ever word. The basic rules were to not speak to or look at anyone long enough to be recognized, you weren’t allowed to use your quirk and if any heroes tried to approach you were to act shy and hide your face. You had a lot of rules about hiding your identity and yet here was the most recognizable villain ever. He smirked knowing you felt he was being hypocritical.

“Don’t worry Doll, I got someone for this.” He motioned toward his own face where his skin was held together by staples. You nodded not knowing exactly what he would do but not really caring. You got to leave and that was the most thrilling thing ever. He opened the door and you felt the cold hallway air hit your exposed skin, which wasn’t much. A giggle escapes as Dabi holds his hand out for you to take. You grab it with vigor ready to be alive again, even if it was just for a moment.  

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You had no idea how he did it but Dabi looked like a normal person. Well normal to society. Personally, you didn’t mind how he looked. He took you another apartment in the same building. He walked in and walked out without staples or scars. The quick explanation he gave was that the persons quirk helped change how someone’s appearance looks to others. Sure, enough your fingers touched his face and you could feel the staples even though you couldn’t see them. Amazement, you were amazed at this quirk before you realized the quirk could have been used on you and you wouldn’t have needed to wear the get up. Dabi knew what you were thinking when you side glanced him.

“Don’t look at me like that doll. This was expensive, much more expensive than your get up. You can wear a costume; I can’t really cover this up.” You hadn’t even thought about him having to have paid for the quirk users help. Of course, in an underground world someone gets money any way they can. You laugh at his comment about covering up his face. You walk in front of him turning, your skirt swirls around with you as your fingers brush his cheek. Your eyes hold so much kindness. “You don’t need to cover up. I think your face is perfect.”

Dabi blinks, he doesn’t really know what to say. Mostly because he never mentioned being ashamed of his scars openly. He was though. He hated how he looked but lived with it since it was his choice, technically he was forced into something so dramatic by his abusive father. You didn’t need to compliment him; you didn’t owe him a smile. You were really a peculiar person. His arm slowly lifts before a flick is administered to your forehead. Your hand quickly moves to rub the spot while you face scrunches. “How sweet you think I’m covering up because I’m ashamed when really it’s because I’m a wanted criminal. I do appreciate it sweetheart. Better watch out, I know you’re touch starved but falling for your captor is kind of cliché. No Stockholm syndrome allowed here.”

Your face went from discomfort to embarrassed. You rush after him as he walks away with a cocky grin. You hit his shoulder before walking next to him.

“I would never fall for you.”

“I know because you have your AmaZinG Shoto you love so much.” You hear Shoto’s name and feel angry again. You grab Dabi’s hand, holding it while you both leave the apartment building. He laughs knowing that you had nothing to say because it was a touchy subject. The moment you both felt the cool fall air blow by the anger you feel dissolves replaced with excitement. You are free, this was what a caged bird feels when it gets to spread its wings. You didn’t even care that you had no idea where this was. Your legs moved you off the front steps of the neglected building and you spun around on the sidewalk. Dabi laughed while his hands pushed into his pockets. He walked onto the sidewalk after you. You stopped spinning turning to him with an appreciative smile. He didn’t deserve it but he accepted it. His hand gestures forward and you grab onto him once again. You link arms with him making him raise a brow. You don’t care about his reaction because you aren’t going to let anything take away your happiness. You let him lead the way, walking passed rundown buildings and sketchy people. You don’t want to judge but it definitely wasn’t a part of town you would have been found in prior to dying. The dirty sidewalks, seedy businesses, and rundown buildings soon enough turn to crowded sidewalks and streets, large and small businesses, and hero agencies. Oh god, you looked down as you passed an agency you didn’t recognize. Dabi laughs because most kidnapped people would go screaming the first sign of ‘help’ while you were acting like you were also a wanted criminal. You looked away from the looming agency building and around the street. People walked right by you never even questioning who you were. They didn’t care. You weren’t Y/n right now, just a stranger. Dabi didn’t understand how you felt so content with being around strangers. He didn’t understand because he didn’t like people and they didn’t tend to like him. Watching you intrigued him, you didn’t run away, you hadn’t stopped smiling, and you hadn’t mentioned Shoto.

“Da-Um Dante, can we get something to drink?” You almost said his name but stopped quickly changing it to the first thing you could think of. This fake name amused Dabi causing him to smirk, not only that but he was also smirking because you asked for a drink. He wanted so badly to tease you but for some reason couldn’t find himself doing so. “Sure, doll.”

“Let’s go to that café, I want something warm with whipped cream.” Your arm released his so you could pull him along. The café wasn’t to busy and Dabi was grateful. He watched you look over the menu mouthing the items to yourself. The cashier called you forward asking your order. You ordered a large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. The cashier smiled at your simple order before looking at Dabi.

“And would your boyfriend like something as well.” Boyfriend? Your face scrunched up like you had just smelled a soiled diaper. Dabi couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped. The cashier could have thought you were siblings but of course you had to be dating him. Before you could comment about him not being your boyfriend he stepped forward, his arm going around your waist to help pull you to his side. He leans closer to the counter. “I’ll have a black coffee.”

“Da-” Before you could say his real name by accident his grip tightened and he gave you a look that warned you. You pouted before pulling away. He paid as you went off to find a table. You found on in a corner against the window, which was exciting to you because you could watch the people. Dabi found you daydreaming, your head in your hand while your eyes watched some high school students taking pictures together.

“God, they look stupid, poor uninformed youth. Little do they know what the pitiful future holds.” You stared across at him as he looked at the teens with a completely opposite viewpoint. A cream packet hit Dabi prompting him to bring his attention back at you. You were displeased with his commentary. “Really? Because that’s truly how everyone’s life is destined to turn out. I’d like to believe that those kids are going to grow up and enjoy life, they might change the world or make a big difference. I know you have your reasons to not enjoy life but that doesn’t mean everyone is going down the same path. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Dabi had almost forgotten that you both came from different worlds. While you believed in hope, he had none. Hope was for children, for fools. You however knew the cruelties of the world and still help onto the sliver of hope you had left. These kids were you. They laughed and you remembered when you were their ages, laughing with your own friends. Now you were trapped, a prisoner of your own accord. Regardless you did not find him funny or charming. “Such a prick.”

“Never said I was anything else.” He was annoying and arrogant but honest. He never pretended he was a gentleman; you chose to believe he could be one. You couldn’t argue with him. It also wasn’t worth ruining your time outside the apartment. This outing was yours not his.

“Your drinks.” You thanked the barista who dropped off your order. You held the cup a gentle smile crossing your lips. Dabi didn’t touch his drink, instead he was watching the people outside. His own thoughts bringing him to think about your future. He wasn’t planning on keeping you around forever but his plan was working slowly. You were now intertwined with his life. He thought about you every time he left the apartment. You could have escaped but you hadn’t even tried. It was like his promise to release you was good enough to calm you, to make you trust him. His eyes watched you through the window, your reflection seen from his angle. The way you licked the whipped cream from your lips caught his attention. He looked beyond your reflection and at the people passing, not wanting to get to invested in watching you. He wondered how long you’d spend running around the city till he’d have to drag you back.

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six hours had come and gone and yet to you it was minutes. You had missed the fresh air, the sunlight dancing on your skin, and the chatter of people around you. You had actually had conversations with strangers, you spoke to people and they spoke with you. It was thrilling and yet as the sun started setting you knew that it would be ending soon. Your face fell with your shoulders at the idea of going back. Dabi would have went back by now but you wanted to stay out and this was all for you. He drank the subpar coffee, walked the crowded stores, ate overpriced food, and even let you get close to people and conversate despite the risk. The streetlights turned on and it seemed even more people were out. Dabi’s phone was vibrating against his leg, his hand reached into his pocket to pick it up. You were watching one of the TV sets that was playing a news station. He hesitated before disappearing down an empty alleyway to answer the call.

“I told you not to call me today.” The irritation was clear in Dabi’s a statement.

“I’m well aware of what you told me it’s just that we have a problem.”

“What problem is to big for pro hero hawks that he has to call a villain to get help from.”

“Shoto.”

There was a brief moment of silence, tension in the air and through the phone. Dabi thought things were moving slowly so now he was sure that the pro’s need for revenge was dwindling. The sidekick in the photo came to mind. Maybe there were to many distractions, maybe he needed a push in the right direction. A reminder of his loss.

“What’s the problem.”

“He hasn’t been coming by endeavors agency and I haven’t seen much of him even in the district. He might be planning something but currently he is avoidant of his father and thus is getting in the way of the plan.”

Dabi was right, but of course he was right, brother’s intuition. This was beyond irritating news but he was already formulating a plan. That plan needed to happen, now. He could hear the phone move away from his informant, hawks, followed by whispering. The person speaking in the background had no idea that their precious hero was helping destroy the current number one. Dabi hung up the call and texted hawks a brief warning. Looked like it was time to send you home. The moment he left the alleyway he found you were gone. Of course, you were gone. He disappeared without telling you where he was going. Hell, he wouldn’t be shocked if you finally gathered the courage and common sense to run away. Before he could even begin to question your whereabouts, he saw you. You were leaning against a clothing store with your hands held in front of you. A stray tear was making its way down your cheek as you looked into the night sky above. The lights and clouds forming made it hard to see any stars. Dabi walked through the crowds of people with only you in his sights. Why were you crying? His hand reached for you but retracted immediately when he watched someone else catch your tear. His body stood frozen amongst a group of business men while his worst fear surfaced.  

“Are you okay? I saw you and couldn’t help coming over here. You look so sad, familiar and sad.” Standing in front of you, so close his breath touched your face, was red riot. He was in disguise just like you were but not as intense. He wore a hoodie to cover his hair which was down instead of spiked. A mask hid his rows of shark like teeth and his casual clothing made his build less noticeable. You knew who he was even before you looked at him. His voice laced with concern and care was more familiar than his looks to you. He wasn’t a close friend but if you were friends with Eijiro Kirishima he thought the world of you, would die or kill for you. He was ride of die and right now he was talking to a dead friend with no clue. Your throat tightened and fear pulsed through your veins. Fear of being caught? Dabi taught you that, that being caught was bad, that if this plan didn’t happen then things would end up so much worse. Fear wasn’t the only thing you felt. You wanted to lean into his hand when it caught your tears. You yearned for his attention, for physical contact from a past that seems so far away regardless of how much time it had really been. You look into his kind crimson eyes and realize that maybe he was trying to figure out who you were. He looked curious but there was a hint of confusion. He was wondering why you were familiar and the only thought he had made no sense. If you talked, he would figure it out. You were literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“I…” You didn’t have to speak because someone else spoke up instead. Dabi’s hand yanked you away from the wall and into his side. He turned you till your chest was pressed into his own, hiding your familiar features away from the prying heroes’ eyes. He knew that his own self was way more familiar but with this quirk hiding his distinct features he didn’t worry about getting caught.  Dabi’s piercing stare causes Kirishima to back up, his hands raised in surrender.

“Are you bothering my girlfriend.” Dabi’s voice was distinct and yet when he spoke, he sounded like someone else. He had spoken with a deep growl that fit his usual tone but something was off. Somehow, he wasn’t Dabi talking. You couldn’t be offended by his words since he was saying them to save the both of you. Yet deep down you weren’t disgusted or offended, instead hearing him growl with a twinge of overprotective jealousy made your heart skip a beat. The way he held onto you in a tight possessive manner made you almost fall for the false title as his girlfriend.

“I didn’t mean any harm. I saw her crying and she seemed sad so I wanted to make sure she was okay… She reminded me of a friend I recently lost.” Kirishima was never the type to make trouble but he did find himself stumbling upon it quite often. He sounded sincere and didn’t want Dabi to get the wrong idea. You knew Dabi didn’t actually believe you were being harassed; he was preventing you both from getting involved in something that would jeopardize everything. The part that really hit you hard was his last sentence. You reminded him of you. He approached you hoping to ease your pain but also because he wished you were the real thing. The harsh reality being that you were the real you and he wasn’t allowed to know that. He was mourning you as well and he wanted to look into your eyes and see the girl that used to go drinking with the Bakusquad. Instead he saw your glossy tear covered contacts. He saw the fake you and was reminded that people don’t just come back from the dead. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from running to him, to prevent a slip up just because you wanted to give him reassurance. Dabi’s grip on you tightened, as if he knew what you were contemplating. “She’s fine, just got lost in the crowd. Thanks for the worry but we must get going. Sorry about your friend.”

“Hey!” As Dabi turned away from Kirishima to walk away with you, a voice called out to the red head. Your body got tense and Dabi recognized it as he jolted his head back toward the hero. Bakugou was in his own shitty disguise walking toward his best friend. Kirishima was a good boy, someone who wouldn’t harass strangers, Bakugou wasn’t the same way. If he thought you were familiar, he would interrogate you. Dabi was ready to use his quirk to escape if needed, ideally he would prefer not to. “Come on shitty hair, let’s go.”

“Sorry… I forgot we were supposed to meet up. I saw this girl and she reminded me of Y/n.” Dabi was already pulling you away again the moment he realized Bakugou hadn’t noticed the two of you. The crowd started to swallow you up but you could still make out what Kirishima had sadly spoken, you also heard Bakugou’s response. “Idiot, she’s dead. You gotta stop looking for her, you’re starting to act like Icy Hot.”

You let yourself be dragged down streets and away from the lit-up buildings. Your day had already faded to night and now you knew where you were headed. Dabi was obviously taking you home and surprisingly you didn’t mind. It had been fun but, after hearing your former friends talk about you as if you were a ghost, the fun dissipated into self-loathing. At some point Dabi wasn’t holding your arm anymore, instead you followed slightly behind him as he led you back. He would have told you that it was time to return but he knew that you were well aware. Your mood had soured and he wasn’t going to contribute more than he had. The apartment building was dark when you arrived outside it. You would easily enough deem it an abandoned building had you not been living here. Dabi held the front door open for you allowing you to walk through the doorway and into the hallway with the flickering yellow bulbs. Dabi walked behind you occasionally telling you where to turn, until you got to the apartment. He let you inside and went to apologize but you had already started heading to your bedroom. He planned on leaving immediately but that didn’t happen. He followed you inside, his phone discarded on the table as it attempted to interrupt him.

“Did you have a good day?” You stopped outside the bedroom door and thought about the hours outside these walls. Despite how it ended you did have fun. Hell, you had a blast just being out in the fresh air, surrounded by people and bustling buildings. It was sad that you found satisfaction in freedom but who wouldn’t after living their life locked up for an undetermined amount of time. A small smile graced your lips as you pulled off the wig. You held it in your hand as your hair settled down back against your face. You turned and looked your captor, friend? in the eyes.

“I had a good day, thank you Dabi.” You open the bedroom door before disappearing into the room leaving Dabi a little surprised by your answer. His shoulders shake when he starts laughing. He really had no idea what to think of you. He walked away from the door calling out to you that he was leaving. Without a response from you he left. You didn’t cry once you were alone. Instead you sat on the floor with your head in your hands replaying the boy’s words. Kirishima thought you were familiar, Bakugou had to remind him that you were dead and yet you were pulling a fast one on them. Had it been Shoto would he have known? Would he instantly know despite the layers of disguise? Would Midoriya have known it was you. Would he have chased you down? These words meant nothing because there was no way to test if this would happen. Had Shoto shown himself on the crowded street Dabi would have taken you home immediately. He didn’t find the others a threat, Shoto was a pawn so of course him seeing you was a threat.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt. The sound of vibrating could be heard coming from the living room. An eyebrow raised as you sat up, getting off the floor. Had Dabi not actually left? You dragged yourself down the hall finding that you were alone in the apartment. The only thing out of place was Dabi’s phone sitting on the table. The entire time you had been here Dabi hadn’t let his phone out of his sight. You wondered if this was a trap as you approached it. The screen was lit up and you saw a text waiting to be read. The missed call notification was below the text box. You read the contact name. You didn’t have to decipher the insulting nickname; You knew that the person trying to get ahold of Dabi was Hawks. You unlocked his phone, you had seen the code before when he hadn’t realized you were watching, the text popped up. You tried to ignore snooping through the previous messages and instead opted to read only the ones that had just arrived.

[I know you already have your mind set on this but maybe rethink this. I don’t think it’s going to go the way you want it to.]

[Are you ignoring my calls on purpose?]

[You can’t kill Shoto’s new sidekick. It messes up your plan against Endeavor.]

[Shoto just left the agency…]

The words reflected off your drying eyes as you read through the texts. Your heart had started racing as you read what his intensions were tonight. What had led him to this decision? Had you contributed to his idea to kill her. You didn’t want to be the reason an innocent life was taken even if you held hatred for her that very morning. This couldn’t be happening. Had Dabi had his phone would the texts change his mind. Had you known his plan prior to him leaving would you have been able to stop him. Your grip on his cell tightened as you decided what needed to done. You hadn’t taken off your disguise, it was dark outside, and you had a shit ton of adrenaline coursing through you. You held onto the phone as you ran out the door making sure it locked before you disappeared down the dully lit hallway. The outside world was much darker and colder than it had been earlier. You had no idea where to look for him but you realized that he might have mentioned a location. You checked back through the texts but found no location, instead a lot of conversations about Endeavors demise and Shoto’s involvement. You went to the internet looking for answers to where the sidekick could be. You found a tweet the showed a picture that had been taken ten minutes prior. The photo had the girl posing with a large electric building clock in the background. You knew where this was and the time gave you an idea of how long ago this was actually taken. You hoped you’d make it in time. You were suddenly hit with the fear that Dabi wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if you tried to stop him. You let the fear settled in your stomach while your legs sent you flying down streets. People looked at you like you were crazy and the funny thing was you were thinking the same thing. You were crazy, this was all insane. The craziest part being your conflict over whether you were doing this to save an innocent girl or because you didn’t want Dabi getting caught. A groan of frustration left you as you found the building the photo was taken in front of. Your legs were throbbing from running. You were curious as to why a sidekick under Endeavor would be so far from their district. You looked around while overthinking everything. You needed to figure out where she would go and where Dabi would ambush her. An alley would be his primary choice and there were plenty of those around. You ran around asking people if they had seen her, using Dabi’s phone to show the picture. People thought you were some crazed fan before pointing you off in different directions. Eventually you felt defeated, like all this was for nothing. What if Dabi had realized his phone was missing and went back to get it. He would definitely be on his way to kill you. The alternative thought was that the girl was already dead. Your feet begged for you to stop walking. You just about gave up when the most putrid smell hit you. Your hands covered your nose and mouth. You gagged. The smell brought you closer and closer to the truth. You followed it knowing what it was. The smell of charred flesh, burning hair, boiling blood. The smell of overcooked organs and crackling bones.

“Dear god.” You found her. You found her the exact way you hoped not to. What was left of her corpse was enough to identify her. Her teeth could be seen since her lips and the skin around them was burned away. Her gums had burns as well, her tongue was nonexistent. Her eyes seemed to have boiled but you could still make out her warped irises. He didn’t burn away all of her hair; you could see slight strands sticking to what skin remained on her scalp. Her body was worse off. You couldn’t look at her any longer. You turned sobbing into the same hands that prevented the smell from invading your nose. You could prevent the smell from getting stuck in your nose. You would remember this smell for the rest of your life, her burnt corpse would live in the darkest recesses of your mind. Your legs were starting to lose their ability to remain standing. You wanted nothing more than to escape this hellscape you had searched for. You glanced back again at her before quickly looking away again. Sobs slipped out as you mourned her, a stranger who this morning you wished didn’t exist. It was ironic really. You could help but blame yourself. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t want this to happen.”

You showered yourself in blame but the reality was that Dabi needed Shoto to remember you, to remember his need for revenge, and in order to achieve that Shoto needed to be reminded what you had supposedly gone through. Except you were actually alive and this girl wasn’t. You finally snapped out of it enough to want to leave. Dabi was obviously gone which meant you were limited on time to get back before he saw you were gone. You pulled out the phone and realized there was another missed call from Hawks. You opened the voicemail and had in playing in your ear.

“Dabi! You have to get the hell out of there. She sent an emergency alert and Shoto is looking for her. He’s on his way there now.”

Fear once again crept over you as you let your arm drop down to your side. The phone light cast a shadow on the wall and revealed someone approaching. Suddenly the alleyway felt warm and yet chills engulfed your body. You turned slowly as you felt the intruder staring at you.

“Shoto…” You whispered his name, a million feelings trying to surface but all you could do was smile sadly. You never thought about the body sitting behind you and the smell no longer existed as you watched him walk closer. You were unaware of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He was already upset that day, his anger waiting to surface and now it was bubbling out in the form of ice creeping down the alley way ground and heat burning along the walls. The light from the phone had disappeared as the screen blackened. The light was now being cast from the Shoto’s flames. The closer Shoto got the ore he could see. He was staring at a woman in a black hoodie, dark skirt, and black leggings. A woman with unfamiliar hair and eyes. He was staring at a stranger. You were a stranger standing in front of a dead body. The charred disfigured corpse of his newest sidekick. You weren’t a stranger anymore but instead a villain. This wasn’t a case of stumbling upon a dead body, No. To Shoto he had arrived late and you hadn’t left on time. You stepped to the side as if you were expecting him to walk past you. It was a mistake. He was able to see her body, your own demise came flying to the forefront of his mind. You had been a pile of ash and she was still recognizable but the two were far too similar. He looked at you and for a moment you thought he saw the real you. His hand raised and you couldn’t help smiling, imagining his hand cupping your cheek. His arms around you holding you. Instead his eyes held pain, pure unadulterated hatred. His flames danced across his body and you had no time to react as they were sent directly toward you. The alley way was blazing with fire and yet your feet were iced to the ground. There was no escape as you witnessed your fiancé look at you with the need for revenge, he wanted you dead. A sob escaped as the flames finally reached you. They dance lightly against your skin before dissipating. Red flames were now blue as a wall surrounded you. You had closed you eyes while waiting for death. You’d accepted this so easily but someone else wasn’t going to. You hadn’t realized that Dabi had come for you. When he saw Shoto he knew it wasn’t going to go the way your imagination wanted it to. He knew the broken man would try to kill you. His flames burned hotter than Shoto’s which he used to his advantage. He protected you by burning away the flames that attempted to swallow you up. His body emerged from the blue inferno. The quirk that had hid his flaws was gone. His face was back to being graphed and stapled, his eyes burned with as much hatred as Shoto’s. His hatred was conflicted, he hated Shoto for trying to hurt you and he hated himself for ever putting you in this situation. You were sobbing on your knees as you heard Shoto screaming out in frustration. Dabi laughed at his pathetic brother as he walked in front of you. His flames still wildly blazing around you, never actually touching you.

“You killed her… It was you. You killed the love of my life. That girl you’re protecting, I bet you love her. I bet you’d be destroyed of she died. I’ll take her from you. I’ll make you regret ever taking Y/n.” Shoto was fast as he rushed Dabi, but Dabi was faster to defend and retaliate. You couldn’t move as Shoto’s words echoed through you. You could feel how broken he was and all you could think about was how you were the one who did this to him. Regret burned hotter than the flames. You watched Dabi and Shoto move like a well-choreographed dance. Never hitting the other as flames and ice clashed. The wall of ice thrust in front of Dabi was shattered with a sharp punch from the raven-haired boy. Shoto moved forward while droplets of water rained down as his ice was melted. His hands finally reached Dabi as they took ahold of his throat. Dabi lifted his own hand thrusting it against the duel quirked boys face. His quirk activated causing Shoto to release him while yelling out in pain. His face wasn’t burned but it was red, irritation from the heat evident on his skin. Dabi approached him while rubbing his throat which now had hand marks on it. He stood in front of his clueless brother.

“I didn’t kill her. Endeavor killed her, just like he killed your brother. Endeavor is somewhere laughing at you as you spiral out of control. I’m having doubts that you ever loved her because if you had then he’d be dead. Had you really loved her maybe she’s be alive right now.” Dabi was letting his emotions take control as he taunted the pro hero. He wanted Shoto to hurt physically and mentally. He wanted him to suffer even after he killed endeavor and got you back. At this rate he might not even want to give you to a man that he felt didn’t deserve you. Shoto let the words settle, to dig under his skin. He wasn’t about to let Dabi get away with his statement, or any of his actions. He wasn’t going to go for the villain. He was going to go for you. His ice shot him upward giving him an advantage. Dabi was ready for the attack but it never came. Instead he became all to aware of the fact that you hadn’t fled the scene. “Dammit.”

“No hard feelings.” Shoto spoke directly to you as he dropped from his ice wall beyond the blue flames. He landed in front of you so close you could touch him. You looked up at him slowly lifting your hand toward him hoping he would take it. He slapped it away looking at you with disgust. To him you were begging for your life, looking for repentance. He had none to give you. You wanted him to looked past the contacts, through the wig. Why couldn’t he see you? You smiled sadly mouthing an I love you before closing your eyes. Tears dripped down your still burning cheeks. It was as if the next few moments happened in slow motion. Shoto moved his hand hovering above you as the fire engulfed the world around you. You felt the pain set in dragging a scream from deep within your chest. It was searing pain that didn’t fade even as the flames disappeared with the burning of Shoto’s body. The flames burned a blue so bright they were almost white. Dabi’s body burned with his quirk use. The smell of hair and skin burning once again invaded your senses and you had no idea if you were smelling yourself or one of them. Shoto was yelling out in pain while Dabi yelled with anger. The moment returned to normal speed as you heard Hawks yelling above. “SHOTO STOP!!!” Shoto looked up as well had Dabi. Immediately he knew this was his time to get the hell out of there. He ran past his brother, both men in excruciating pain. Shoto reached out to stop him but he hesitated when he heard Hawks screaming for him to back down. He could hear the sirens as he watched Dabi collect you into his arms. He was trying to put as little pressure on your new wounds as he could while carrying you. In your delirious pained state, you reached your left hand out toward him. He had to have been delirious himself because he could have sworn that the villain girl, he had just tried to kill was missing her ring finger, the same finger that was left for him.

“Y/n.” Your name slipped from his lips as you were carried away from the scene. Your eyes closed and you drifted off into a nightmare that resembled the moments that had transpired that night. Dabi brought you home cursing himself and everything around him. He punched the wall cracking it. He growled as his back hit the same wall he just punched. He didn’t understand why he wanted so badly to kill Shoto right now but he knew that it was all because of you. You were supposed to be a small pawn to get the game going, to get it closer to the climax and now you were involved deeper than he wanted. You were never supposed to get hurt, not like this. Looking at your burned skin, relieved that the burns weren’t third degree. He was able to protect you but wished he had done more. You should have been unscathed and yet you lay on the couch marked due to his own family’s mistakes.  

“I’m so sorry Y/n.” He moved to the front of the couch his hand brushing your scorched cheek. The wig had basically burned away and the contacts needed to be removed before they caused permanent damage to your eyes. A knock on the door told him that help had arrived.

--------------------

Hours had gone by and you remained in a mindscape that resembled hell. Shoto continuously killing you while you felt and watched every moment. He reminded you about how you didn’t matter to him, that he never loved you and yet his eyes said they did. It was a cruel world to be trapped in. Slowly thought that world faded and you could see a dull light behind your heavy lids. You could hear a voice gently speaking to you, apologies and promises. When you finally found the strength to open your eyes you found Dabi staring at you. His eyes looked sad but that quickly changed to shock as he realized you were awake. He smirked, or at least tried to.

“I guess true loves kiss does wake a princess.” You scoffed before attempting to slap him. You body was sore but when you saw your skin you had no burns. There were slight markings that made you think that you had been in much worse shape. Dabi was smiling at you as he sat back sighing in relief. You attempted to sit up and he was quick to move and help you. He held your back pulling you up without hurting you. You thanked him and he nodded before getting you a glass of water. He almost dropped it when he saw that you were crying. The glass was left on the coffee table as his arms reached around you. He hadn’t hugged many people in his life but he knew that it held the power to help. You clung to him sobbing into his shoulder, screaming practically. It was painful for Dabi to hear and t reminded him of his newest hatred for Shoto. His hands held you protectively, comfortingly. You held onto him crying until your throat was raw and your tear ducts dried. Eventually it was just you being gently rocked by Dabi as hiccupped sobs continued to escape.

“What do I do know Dabi. What do I do when I died for him and he tried to kill me? I used to dream of our reunion, it was beautiful and full of tears and love. Now when I close my eyes, I picture the flames, the screaming. I hear his words as he tries to kill me. I can feel the look of disgust and hatred.” You had to cover your mouth to try and stop the oncoming panic attack. You wanted to scream but couldn’t. “What do I do when all that kept me alive was the idea of being free to be me again, but the world doesn’t need me in it. He doesn’t need me. I’m a villain in his eyes and I think he might be one in mine now. What is there left for me now.”

“Stop. Please stop. I need you Y/n.” Dabi pulled you against his chest as his lips crashed into your own. A moment of pure emotion and adrenaline. He promised to himself, as his lips molded to yours, that he would make things right for you even if that meant giving up his plan.  

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[mmimagine-40]

Wpam

Reader x Avengers   

KTO TbI? - Who are you

Peter sighed looking around the jet bored. They have been on the jet for a few hours and still have a few more till they reach their destination in Italy. Having to chase after a congressman that they think is working with Hydra or someone ,Peter wasn’t really listening in debriefing. They got tipped off that this guy and some other businessmen in the US are working with people about some type of atomic bomb. So him , Steve , Tony, Nat, Bucky , Sam , and Y/n are all going.  Peter was excited after not being about to go on missions for a while. But right now he’s bored out of his mind and can’t fall asleep. He looked around the jet and saw almost everyone was asleep. Laughing a bit at the fact that Sam and Bucky are passed out leaning on each other. He could hear the hush voices of Tony and Steve talking in the cockpit. Not understand why they don’t just shut the door to talk. His eyes then land on Y/n. She sat across him and nat reading, or that’s what he thinks. She's holding a book and her head is pointed down. But with her face covered it’s hard to tell. He thinks back to the year she has been with them, she never once was seen without her face cover. Sam told him she also always wears it when they meet her. But Pete wasn’t there for that so he doesn’t know much about it.

Year or so ago

Nat and Steve rush to the jet as people shoot at them. Tony and Sam were already there waiting for them. Tony had the jet ready so as soon as Steve and Nat stepped on he could take off. As soon as they jumped on Sam was yelling at Tony to go as he closed the door. “Everyone okay?”, tony asked from the cockpit. Both Sam and Steve say yes, But nAt yell out No clutching her thigh. As she jumped into the jet she was hit. Sam and Steve rushed over to look at her. Tony joined putting the jet on autopilot. “What happened?”. “I was shot jumping in. The bullet is lodged in my thigh.”, Nat says through clenched teeth. As Sam and Steve start to help her, an alarming noise from the cockpit brings Tony going back. “Guys! We have a problem!”, Tony yells as he takes over controls again. “What is it?”, Steve rushes to see the radar. There were two plans following them. Then the plain started shaking as the two plains started shooting at them. “What the hell is going on?”, Sam yells. “We have company! You two hold on it’s going to be very bumpy! You want me to take over Tony?”, Tony nods as they quickly switch so Steve can fly. Tony starts taping on a tablet looking through security stuff and sending shots their way as well. “Huh Steve?! They have a missile!”. “Damn! I won’t be able to out fly it and If we send one it won’t end well for us.”, Steve yells trying to think of something. “Shit it’s coming! Let's go, the cabin is strong and will have a better safety chance.”, Tony turns on auto pilot and grapes Steve rushing to the medical cabin with Sam and Nat. “Hold on!”, Steve yells just before the missile hit the jet, sending them tumbling down. The A.I of the jet Shut down the medical cabinet as the rest of the jet starts falling apart. Tony seals up his suit, as Steve holds Nat close using the shield to help protect her from anything that flies as they drop. Tony was right the cabin didn’t destroy fully as they hit the ground. The sides were crushed in some and the doors were crushed which meant that all electricity was cut off and destroyed to open the doors. Steve looked around after a bit of coming back to it. The crash knocked all three of them out. He moves around them to the crush door and starts to bang against it trying to get it open. But it wouldn’t bulge. Using his shield he finally got the door to slightly crack. Steve was able to shove his fingers through and push the door open enough to get out. He then drag each of them out laying them out of the ground away from the crash. They were supported by the pieces of jet on fire. In a snow forest area that looked to be surrounded by mountains. As Steve looks around he is meet with a blade to his neck. He looks up see someone standing on the other end of the blade but can’t really make them out. They wear dark jeans and a bag sweater type shirt. With a thick winter coat over it. They had gloves on their hands and a wrap that covered their face. “KTO TbI?”, they say. “I’m sorry I don’t understand what your saying.”, Steve says dropping his shield and holding his hands up. Showing the person he was no harm. The person tilted their head then looked down where his mask laid. “Captain America?”, They lower the sword but not fully putting it away. Not moving Steve nods. “Please help me. We were shot down out of the sky. I’m fine but my friends are knocked out. One has a bullet wound and needs medical help the other I’m not sure but the crash knocked them out.”. He points his head to the three body’s. The person looks them over and then at him. Seeing that the others were the famous Iron man , blackwidow, and the falcon. People they only heard about and saw glimpses of when having to go to town. They put the samurai away. “Y/n.”, A female voice says sticking her hand out to help Steve up. He smiles at her taking her hand. “Are you able to open his suit? He will most likely be easier to wake up and not have a concussion.”, Y/n says pointing to Tony as she looks over the other two. Steve works on getting the suit open , as Y/n looks over Nat’s injury. She takes her jacket off putting around the female as most of her suit is torn. She then checks over the next guy. Sam, as Steve told her. Y/n tries waking him up but he’s completely out and has a concussion. “Tony?”, Y/n turns to see Steve got his suit open and is shaking the man. She steps over to them checking him out. “He’s lucky, No concussion or brain damage. I have an idea to wake him up but you might want to back up.”, She says standing up. Grabbing the small bottle from her jacket , she pours the water on his face. Steve and Her stand back as Tony jumps up to the cold water hitting his face. “What the hell?! Where am i? What’s going on?”, He screams looking around till his eye’s land on Steve. “Sorry Tony. We had to get you up to make sure you're okay.”. Tony just nods looking around at the jet that’s on fire. “ It’s cold out here and it’s about to get colder as the sun goes down. We should really get them inside and warmed up. Especially her with the blood loss and the cold weather , it’s dangerous to keep her out here any longer. My cabin isn’t too far from here.”, Y/n says turning back to the other two , still passed out, avengers. “Wait, who are you?”, Tony asks, finally noting the person in all dark clothes standing next to Steve. “Tony this is Y/n. She’s helping us.” Steve says turning to Y/n thinking the best way to carry the two. “I’ll grab Sam. Tony got Nat.”. Deciding now isn’t the time to be asking questions he just nods. Y/n helps him pick Nat up making sure her wound isn’t touched and wrapped up. She then leads them away from the crash into the forest. It was about a 15 min walk to her cabin. From the outside it looks like a very old abandoned cabin. But inside was nice and warm and nicely furnished. Also somewhat modern. She had electricity. Lights , fridge, stove top, modern bathroom. A modern Cabin which you wouldn’t expect all the way out here. The only thing she didn’t have was tv or phone or anything like that. “ You can take him upstairs the room on the right. He’s most likely going to be out for a while. Her , set her on the table. We need to get that bullet out and sewn up.”, she tells them as she cleans off the table. Tony carefully sets Nat down and starts taking his suit off and reaches the Avengers Tower. Y/n rushed finding her first aid kit and getting some hot water. Once Steve gets back down stairs he helps her cut away Nats suit at her leg. He just watches as Y/n cleans the wound and starts to dig out the bullet.  Y/n worked quick as she got the bullet out and cleaned the wound out and put some medicine in it. Making sure no infection grows. She then sews up the hole and wraps it up. “Done. You can take her right down that hallway. Make sure you wrap her up in the blankets. I’m gonna go check up on the other one.”, Y/n tells Steve pointing down the hallway next to the stairs before grabbing a few things and rushing up the stairs. As she disappears upstairs , Steve walks out of the room to tony. “Are you able to get a hold of anyone?”. “No , the crash damaged the suit. The A.I is responding to the suit but not to anything else. But I think I can fix it from some parts from the jet and an internet connection.”, Tony says. “What’s up with this woman , by the way?”. “Y/n? What about her?”, Steve asks watching as Tony takes part in his suit. “You don’t think it’s weird that this person, in the middle of nowhere and who speaks perfect English, is just willing to help us and bring us to her house?”, Tony asks. “Actually I had your captain at the end of a blade before he asked for help. Also if you must know I’m actually from America original and know who the Avengers are.” Y/n says coming down stairs and joining them at the island in the kitchen/ dining area. Steve laughs as Tony lets out a sorry. “Are you able to contact for help or is there anything you need?”, she says looking over everything. “Just a few things I think I can recover from the Jet and you don’t happen to have an internet connection do you?”. “No, and the closest town doesn’t have anywhere with the best connection. Your best bet is to travel about 10 miles northwest there is a small hydra base on the border in Russia.”. “Russia? We aren’t in Russia?”Steve asked. Y/n Shakes her head , “No this is Kazakhstan. Like I said my cabin is about 10-20 miles from the border of Russia.”. Steve nods thinking of a plan, “Okay why don’t we rest tonight , get what you need tomorrow tony. Then figure out from there.”. They all nod agreeing. “If you move your stuff to the table I’ll make us something to eat.”, Y/n says, starting to pull things out of her fridge. 

After dinner Tony kept working, stopping every now and again to sleep. But only to sleep for a bit before waking up and working again. Steve and Y/n take turns sleeping and checking up on Sam and Nat. Around 3 am Nat woke up as Y/n was checking her bandage. Seeing this person with their face covered Nat tried jumping up but found her not able to use her body till Y/n calmed her down and told her what was going on and even got Steve in the room. Sam didn’t wake up till 7 am and walked downstairs , oh high alert, to Tony Steve , Nat and someone else sitting at a table eating breakfast. Y/n introduced herself while handing him some meds saying they will help with his head. He then sat down to eat as they let him know what’s going on. Tony couldn’t help as his eye’s kept going to Y/n. She kept the wrap on around her face and to eat she lifted the bottom. But making sure none of her face showed. But What Tony didn’t know was that Y/n was looking at him too and knew what he was thinking. Feeling uncomfortable she puts the fork down and pushes her plate away.  After breakfast Y/n got Nat some clothes to wear and dug out some old clothes of her fathers for boys. Mainly pulling out winter clothes. They then all headed out to the site of the crash. “Are you sure you're going to be okay to go?”, Y/n asked Nat. “Yeah this is nothing. Pulse the meds are helping keep the pain down. Just can’t walk fast.”. Y/n just nodded and decided to stay with her just in case. Up a head a bite Sam , Steve and Tony were whispering to each other. “Are we sure we can trust this girl?”, Sam has taken a quick glance back to Y/n and Nat. “I mean if she wants to hurt us or anything she would have. I mean she had me at the end of a blade and all of you were knocked out. If she didn’t help there's no telling what would have happened to you or Nat.”, Steve says to Sam. “I mean she knows where a Hydra base is and knows that it’s easy to hack into.”, Tony cuts in. “Why don’t you ask her? And if you two are so worried just keep an eye on her.``, Steve huffs. Tony and Sam just nod. A few minutes later they get to the crash site. There was still lots of smoke from where a fire started. But lucky it was all out. “Okay we need to be careful of inhaling the smoke as well as that some of these pieces can still be very hot.” Steve says. “We need to find the cockpit and see if anything from it survived.” , Tony says, starting to move stuff around. Everyone jumped in looking around. Y/n stayed with Nat helping her, after all she is still a bit weak. “This looks like it’s the head of the plane.”, Nat points out to the crushed piece. They both start moving things out of the way. “Tony! We Found it!” Nat yells to Tony. She winces as she tries to move more things to fully uncover the computers. Y/n reach out to her ,” Hey , take it easy, you're freshly hurt. Here sit down.``, Y/n helps her to lean against a pile of the plain as the other three come rushing over. Tony starts taking part of the computer to see what was salvageable. “How long is it going to take you? We are going to need to get her back soon for some meds and a re-bandage.”, Y/n ask stepping over to Tony. “It’s going to be a bite. There's a lot of pieces to plain computers and I'm the only one who knows how to and what to look for.”, Tony explains not even slowing his movement once bite. Y/n gets on her knees next to him and starts taking a part more of the computer. “What do we need?”. Tony looks at her shocked , “You know your way around?”. “You really think i’d hack a hydra base , the second most secure place, if I didn’t”, Tony laughed at the smugness in her voice. He then starts to explain what he needs. Glade he didn’t have to dumb it down for her. With her help they got all they needed in about 20 minutes. Once they got back, Steve helped Y/n to get Nat laying on the couch and changing the bandages. Y/n then gave her some water and Advil to help the pain. Which ended up knocking Nat out. She then turned her attention to Tony and helped him with the tablet like comtraption to get a hold of someone. Tony was impressed with her skills and how she kept up with him. “Steve, Can we keep her,please?”, Tony asks as Y/n explains another better way to build it. Y/n and Steve just laugh at him. “I’m in too for keeping her, This is the best damn sandwich I have ever had.”, Sam jumps in as he chows down on a second sandwich she made for lunch. “Sandwich?”, Nat pops up. Y/n laughs softly grabbing the one she set aside for her and a glass of water and bringing it over to her. Nat to one bite and moaned at the taste, “I agree. We keep her.”. “I’m sorry about them.”, Steve says laughing. “It’s alright, it’s been nice to have you guys around.”, she says putting the dishes in the sink to be washed later. “You don’t have much human interaction due you?”, Sam asked getting up to put his plate away. “Since the passing of my father no. I had a small bite but they turned out to be bad people.”. It clicks with all of them, “Hydra'', Nat lets out. Y/n nods, “ I escaped them a few years back and have been running from them but keeping an eye on them as well. there for Hacking them. Lucky for me they are to stupid to think I'd stay close to them.”. “ A brain like yours I’m not at all surprised they are after you.”, Tony jokes. “Actually they want me for my ability to not only control the minds of people and their bodies. But also cause I can hold an object and see through the person's eyes if it belonged to or is special to. Sorry it’s hard to explain, basically I can see the danger coming.:”, Y/n explains. They were all shocked. They have heard of mind control and mind reading. They do have Wanda  you can read minds as well. But not someone you can see danger from the persons eyes with just touching something. “Sorry I didn’t say sooner but…”, Y/n starts. “It’s okay we get it. You were protecting yourself.”, Steve speaks up. Her opening up helped settle their trust over her a bite. “DOne!” Tony breaks the silence that fell over the room. “It’s done. Tomorrow we head to the base and hack some connections and then we should be home within 2 days”,Tony says, showing them all the tablets. The rest of the day they just sit around and talk as Tony and Y/n make some last minute touches to the wire they will need to plug into a computer. Over dinner/after they talk about a plan. “Needing to be plugged in we have to go inside. Y/n already told us that it’s a small base. So taking them out shouldn’t be an issue. Only thing left is weapons. You don’t happen to have any due you?”, Steve turns to Y/n. Y/n stands up going to the study she has. They all follow her. She grabs a remote looking thing. Turning back to them, “ I hope this means we all trust each other completely.”. They all nod, Y/n has given a single thing not to trust them. Hell she saved them and is helping them get home. Y/n pressed a button and two of the bookshelves that stood tall and next to each other, moved apart and forward came a wall filled with guns. “The bottom draws have ammo and bullet proof backpacks.”, she explains. They each prepare a bag, then decide to go ahead and get some rest and get up extra early to be able to scope out the area fully. As the others get settled , Y/n sneaks out to the back patio. She sits on the steps and watches the rest of the sun set and the stars starting to come out. “You okay?” Steve asks, coming to sit next to her. “Yeah, Just going to miss you guys. It was nice having people around again. I never realized how lonely I was before now.” Y/n says letting out a little laugh. Steve smiles at her watching her side profile that was hidden behind the face cover. But he can still tell she was looking up. “Thank you by the way. You didn’t have to help us but you did. And saved Nat. She probably wouldn’t have made it if she stayed out there in her consciousness any longer.”. Steve says and watches as the stars start to shine bright as they come out. “No problem, It’s not everyday some gets to say they help the avengers.”, Y/n jokes and they both laugh. A small silence settles before Y/n sighs. “My dad is probably looking down at me jealous as ever right now.”, Y/n laughs out dryly. Steve turns to her with an eyebrow raised. She turned to look at him. “You were his favorite superhero. He used to go on and on about ‘THE CAPTAIN AMERICA’.”. Steve laughs shaking his head. “That man I swear the way he talked about you I thought he was gay for a bit or just in love with you. He had all kinds of news papers about you. And action figures , all kinds of stuff. Hell even baseball cards.” . “Sounds like someone else I know.”, they both laugh softly. Then Y/n wraps her arms around her knees pulling them closer to her holding back her tears. “He passed before you were unfrozen. Didn’t even get to hear that you were alive.”. Steve turned to her and reached out, rubbing her back. “I’m sure he knows and his smiling down knowing his daughter risked herself to help not only me but other superheroes. I would even say being a hero herself.”. Y/n laughs standing up. “Come we should get to bed.” , Y/n holds her hand out to help Steve up. They head into their rooms.  As soon as Y/n entered her room she locked it and started taking off the face mask. Her hand went up and touched her checks which hurt from laughing and smiling. She hasn’t felt this way in years. Steve put a smile on her face , even though he didn’t get to see it, that hasn’t been on her face since that death of her father. She looks in a mirror seeing a rose blush over her face. The smile fell down as her eyes ran over the part of her face that made her keep her face covered around not only others but even herself.

Part 1 of 2! I Hope to have the second one posted tomorrow or the next day along with the next part of crazy in love hopefully. - MM

[theeasterlymedia]

A Normative Discussion on Andrei Rublev

Meghnad Mukherjee 

While watching Rublev, I couldn’t help but think about Béla Tarr and his The Turin Horse. Tarr developed his distinctive style over time, and so one should presume Rublev was a stage in Tarkovsky’s development towards perfecting his almost magical cinematic philosophy that we admire today. In this essay we will be discussing only some of the scenes (and a short general discussion) of this three hours long masterpiece otherwise the obvious following rant would not have stopped.

Holiday, 1408, June

The scene opens with the greatest of all Russian Icon painters Andrei Rublev and his crew of apprentices and helpers on their way to a job in the once-powerful feudal fortress city Vladimir in June of 1408. It is probably the evening of June 23, St. John the Baptist Eve, which falls immediately after summer solstice, the end of spring. The Kliaz'ma River rises north of Moscow, flows between Moscow and the Trinity-St. Sergius Monastery and eastward past Vladimir.

Gathering firewood, Andrei gets caught up in a village pagan ritual. We should notice the sounds of nightingales and of ritual bell percussion.Some would say he seeks a way to join his high spiritual calling and art to the real soil of Russian folk experience, his "civilization" to his "culture". One way to describe the linkage of Christian "civilization" with Russian pagan "culture" is dual faith. Andrei is about to have a "dual faith" experience himself, and so are you if you let the film have its way.The making of a straw effigy and the burning of it are documented features of peasant ritual on St. John's Eve. The sexual license portrayed here is characteristic of peasant spring and summer rituals. Andrei stands over a smoldering camp fire and his monkish robes catch fire. Fire and water are central to the pagan rituals of St. John's Eve (they are also central to Tarkovsky's own personal film imagery). The men and women are performing a characteristic ritual of St. John's Eve. Also don't miss the scene downstream from the two lines of naked folk---a white horse comes into view and begins to thrash the river's surface as the ritual boat approaches.

Andrei is captured and bound in a stable by villagers who do not want him to interfere with their dear ritual. Marfa approaches him and plants an earthly kiss: physical contact of native paganism with highly refined and civilized Christianity. Notice the necklace she wears. Also notice how Andrei sheds his monkish cowl (identifying "uniform" of the black or monkish clergy) as he decides to melt into the woods and rejoin the village fest. As the next morning follows someone has squealed on the village revelers. The local landlord and his ruffian men-at-arms on horseback appear, accompanied by clerical enforcers, all bent on doing their official Christian duty. They hope to run down participants in last night's ritual. Sure enough, here comes Marfa and her significant other, chased by authorities. He doesn't get away, but she swims toward the middle of the river, immediately past the boat carrying Andrei, but he will not look at her. She splashes bravely out to deep waters.

Raid, autumn, 1408

Now we jump ahead a few weeks to the fall of 1408 and the outskirts of the city Vladimir. This army is led by a Russian prince who is a rival of his own brother for power in Vladimir. A tatar Khan’s army and his one will join up at a difficult river ford in preparation for an attack on Vladimir. As the two armies link up, the Khan and the Russian prince vie with one another to see who is faster. The Russian prince recalls an event in the previous winter in which the church tried to reconcile him with his rival brother. The wintry church is the great in Vladimir, built in 1194-1197. You can just barely make out the remarkable animal, vegetable and human figures carved in relief in the white stone outer walls of this ancient cathedral. These figures are taken to be themselves representatives of the combination of old pre-Christian "Scythian" motifs with Biblical themes.

Two times later in this section of the film, the Russian prince flashes back to this treacherous "kissing of the cross" which he and his Tatar ally are now about to betray. The second flashback occurs as the Russian prince witnesses the Tatar humiliation of the captured prince's brother and family and receives from the Tatars the vestments of the now deposed brother's power. The sounds of the Orthodox mass can be heard again, now in the courtyard as the Tatar khan nervously walks his war horse back and forth in anticipation of breaking into the church. A dying horse comes down a stairway and falls to the ground, bleeding to death. This is a disturbing and powerful scene. We may be more touched by this cruel death than by all the other film portrayals of human death. As the horse stumbles to its death, from the church we hear the most characteristic phrases from the Russian mass: Hospodi, pomilui, Hospodi, pomilui... [Lord, have mercy, Lord, have mercy...].

Soon, we see inside the cathedral being rammed by the Tatar army.We spy Andrei again. He is with a young blond woman. The actress is Tarkovsky's wife, and she is playing a paradigmatic Russian cultural role: the holy fool. She is a "durochka", not able to take care of herself, but in her naive simplicity representing something very dear to Russian tradition. Andrei has made himself her protector in earlier scenes, and now they are trapped together as the cathedral door breaks open. What a scene, as the Tatar khan paces his horse around inside the cathedral, asking the Russian prince taunting questions about the holy images on the walls, most now burning. The brave and defiant Foma is tortured, molten lead is poured into his mouth, and he is dragged to his death by a stallion stampeded through the devastated streets of Vladimir.The traitorous prince is beset with deep misgivings about this destructive adventure. Large white geese float from cathedral rooftops to the disordered streets below, all in slow motion. Andrei and Durochka are still in the church and try to come to terms with what has just transpired.

Tatar's Wife

The final scene I have selected is four years later, the winter of 1412. It is a hard winter, and famine stalks the land. Andrei is heating large stones and trying to transfer them to wooden casks to heat water. Durochka is eating an old apple. The Tatar khan rides into the monastery with several of his warriors. They are in a playful mood. The khan feeds frozen meat to quarrelsome dogs. Durochka wants some too. What follows is one of the most intriguing "falling-in-love" scenes in all of filmdom. Andrei tries to intervene, but this situation is beyond his or just about any imaginable power to change. As the khan sweeps Durochka up behind his saddle and he and his warriors gallop out of the monastery courtyard through a roofed gateway, our time is up.

Some commentary or rather a casual discussion --

Tarkovsky created a film about faith in a time when there were no films about religion, apart from satire or anti-religion propaganda. At the same time, people who were religious have tended to view film as a profane medium, inappropriate for religious topics. Andrei Rublev was a 15th-century monk regarded as Russia’s greatest icon writer. While his work is well known and celebrated throughout Russia, little is known of his life except for the handful of icons he left behind. Tarkovsky invented life for Rublev. It is then not an investigation into the painter’s life, but Tarkovsky’s response to what the filmmaker saw and felt by looking at Rublev’s icons.

Moving through ‘a sequence of detailed fragments’ in which Rublev is sometimes present, sometimes only an observer, the film works toward difficult questions: how is experience related, and how can it be communicated? How can art be true to its subject and its audience?How do you paint the trinity without just reducing it to the sum of its parts?

At once humble and cosmic, Rublev was described by Tarkovsky as a “film of the earth.” Shot in widescreen and sharply defined black and white, the movie is supremely tactile—the four classical elements appearing here as mist, mud, guttering candles, and snow. A 360-degree pan around a primitive stable conveys the wonder of existence. Such long, sinuous takes are like expressionist brushstrokes; the result is a kind of narrative impasto.The film’s brilliant, never-explained prologue shows some medieval Icarus braving an angry crowd to storm the heavens. Having climbed a church tower, he takes flight in a primitive hot-air balloon—an exhilarating panorama—before crashing to earth. Fifteenth century Russia was a tumultuous country, never really at peace, and Tarkovsky shows this in particular in the latter half of the film. The theme of conscience is present throughout the film.Tarkovsky plays here with sound and silence, almost deafening silence.

Shooting the entire movie in black and white, Tarkovsky finally dazzles the audience with close-ups of Rublev’s works, revealed for the first time during the movie in all their brilliance and colour. After more than two hours of sombre and austere imagery, the beauty of the frescoes amazes the viewers. The art, born from the endeavours and aspirations of the artist, is presented to the audience in all its grandeur, rising over the everyday like the man on the balloon at the beginning of the movie. This universal quality of the artist and his work makes the historical period irrelevant, performing a spiritual sweep, casting an ethereal spell on the audience.

Andrei Rublev is itself more an icon than a movie about an icon painter. (Perhaps it should be seen as a “moving icon”) This is a portrait of an artist in which no one lifts a brush. The patterns are God’s, whether seen in a close-up of spilled paint swirling into pond water or the clods of dirt Rublev flings against a whitewashed wall. But no movie has ever attached greater significance to the artist’s role. It is as though Rublev’s presence justifies creation.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Ghost In The Dark (Valtor x OC)

Link to Chapter 1:

Time Line: Chapter 2 is set a few days before Tecna closes the portal connecting Andros and the Omega Dimension.

Rating: M

*2* Fire Burning Under Your Skin

(Word Count: 3250)

After Hel had calmed down, the Trix had escorted her to an empty bedroom which used to belong to one of the professors before Valtor marked them all. With all the ladies gone, Valtor could finally gather his thoughts in the peaceful silence; however, something was very much disturbing him.

All those years, he had partly blamed Hel for their imprisonment in the Omega Dimension since she had disappeared when he needed her the most. Her incredible arrogance had been the reason why the Company of Light had managed to defeat Hel pitifully easily considering she had been one of the post powerful witches to roam the magical universe –at least that was what Valtor believed before Hel told him what Mandragora had done.

He knew very well that every one of Mandragora’s actions were being controlled by the Ancestral Witches, which meant that they had ordered Mandragora to steal Hel’s ring. They had wanted Hel to be captured.

This is too odd, Valtor thought while he stood in front of the massive window inside the headmistress’s office as his grey eyes thoughtfully gazed upon the dark, night sky. Why would the Ancestral Witches want to get rid of her? During the time we worked for them, they had no complaints about her –in fact, they were greatly pleased with her progress. Unless…

Unless they thought she was becoming a… distraction.

Back then, when they were working together, Valtor had taken a fancy to Hel. Being the fierce and tough woman she was, Hel had played quite hard to get; however, Valtor had always liked a good challenge. The harder the challenge, the sweeter the victory.

The attraction between the two of them had been undeniable and it would have taken a will of titanium not to fall for Valtor’s charms, hence Hel had eventually given into her heart’s deepest desires. Of course, it hadn’t been easy for her to admit that she had been falling for Valtor; even though they had been partners in crime, she had always seen Valtor as a rival.

After all, only one could be the most powerful sorcerer in the magical dimension.

Still, her ambitions hadn’t been powerful enough to keep Hel away from Valtor. The more time they had spent together, the weaker her walls had become and at the end she had been the one to pull Valtor inside her arms.

Upon recalling the nights they had spent together, the edge of Valtor’s lip curled upwards.

Hel had always been a rather physical person; even before the attraction between the two begun to form, she would never miss an opportunity to put her hands on him –the light touch on the shoulder while passing by, the faint contact of the knees under the table… So it had been no surprise when they had found out that they simply weren’t able to keep their hands to themselves at night.

She had a strong effect on him, she had always had, just like a drug and unfortunately, Hel knew how to use this to her advantage. And this is exactly why the Ancestral Witches decided to finish her off, Valtor thought as he shook himself and headed to the desk. Because I let myself get so unnecessarily distracted by her.

Seems like nothing has changed –despite all those years we’ve spent apart and despite all the blame I’ve put on her, she is still magnetic.

Clearing his head, Valtor pushed every single thought about Hel away from his mind and continued reading Cloud Tower’s spell books from where he had left off until his peace was disturbed by a presence lurking inside the shadows. The sorcerer’s grey eyes didn’t even leave the book between his hand as he spoke.

“I thought you wanted to get a beauty sleep, not a two-hour-nap.” Valtor said, he was sitting on the chair with his legs crossed on the desk, as always. Upon hearing his voice, Hel stepped out of the shadows behind the bookcase. She had her usual sleepwear on her: a silver-coloured, silk set consisting of a tank top and shorts.

“The voices of the dead don’t allow me to rest, unfortunately.” she responded and yawned while she was walking towards the desk “Some serious chaos took over the Underworld during my absence.”

Valtor eyed the dark haired woman for a moment before speaking “Do they know you’re back?”

Hel shook her head “No but some of them has begun to feel my presence and they are trying to reach their queen.” she said and grimaced “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to hear countless different voices in your head while you’re in the middle of a pleasant dream?”

“I can only imagine,” Valtor responded as he put down the book he was holding onto the desk, his eyes following Hel’s movements as she walked past the desk and stood in front of the window, her back facing him “But I suppose it would have been better for you to deal with the problems of the Underworld in person instead of complaining about them to me.”

Hel rolled her eyes in annoyance “I am not going anywhere before you explain,” she said and turned to look at Valtor with her arms crossed over her chest “Why the fuck you’ve left me in the Omega Dimension.”

She’s hurt, Valtor thought as he analysed Hel’s tone and gestures. Because she wouldn’t have left me behind if she had been the first one to escape the ice.

Taking a deep breath, Valtor let his legs down and stood up from the chair “Would you wake a potential rival from their eternal sleep, Hel?” he asked while he took slow steps towards her.

The dark haired woman let out a cold, scornful laughter “Perhaps I’ve forgot what a huge self-seeker you are,” she spat out the words as if they were venom “But what was I expecting from a man whose mothers are directly responsible for my time in the ice?”

With that, Hel sent Valtor a last, furious look and walked past him, her shoulder forcefully hitting his arm “Hel, wait,” Valtor said and held her from her right wrist “What Mandragora did has nothing to do with me.”

Hel looked at Valtor over her shoulder as she freed her wrist from his hold “Do I look like a fool to you?” she asked with an angry tone and once again tried to walk away from him, only to be caught by Valtor once again. The sorcerer pulled her against his chest and placed his right hand around her waist so that she wouldn’t be able to step back. His left hand was still holding Hel from her right wrist “Let me go!”

“Tell me, Hel, when have I lied to you?” Valtor asked with a low and calm voice, which caused Hel to stop trying to push him away “Think logically, losing you bore nothing in my advantage –on the contrary, it is one of the reasons why I also ended up in the Omega Dimension.”

For a moment, both of them just looked at each other in pure silence: They were standing so close to each other so that Hel was able to feel the warmth radiating off his body –because of the dragon fire within him, Valtor had always been warm. And once again, after sixteen long years, Hel was feeling the familiar realisation of how small she was compared to Valtor, whose huge frame was towering over her. Being inside his arms had always made her feel that way –it made her feel both safe and small.

“You really are cold,” Valtor spoke with a lower voice this time, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, hence he could feel Hel’s skin under his palm. Slowly, he moved his left hand, which was holding Hel’s wrist, along her right arm “Almost frozen.”

Upon feeling his hand tracing her skin, Hel shivered, which caused a small smirk to form on Valtor’s lips. She has missed my touch; this makes everything more interesting. Seems like it takes more than sixteen years in ice to snuff out some flames.

Quickly, Hel wore her usual, reckless expression –she simply couldn’t stand the idea of showing Valtor how much she had actually missed him. No, she would rather burn in the flames of her yearning than to give Valtor the satisfaction of seeing that she still wasn’t able to resist him.

Either he admits it first, Hel thought as her grey eyes wandered on Valtor’s strong facial features. Or the chase begins all over again.

“Well, darling, not all of us carry the breath of the dragon under our skin.” she said and slowly stepped back when she felt Valtor’s hold loosening. Then, she walked left to the desk, eyeing all the books piled up on it “Seeking to acquire every single piece of magical knowledge in the magical universe, hmm? Just like old times.” Pushing away some books, Hel sat on the desk “Which dimension do these books belong to?”

Valtor snapped his fingers and the books began to re-organise themselves “These are from the spell vault of the Cloud Tower.” he responded and sat on the chair, leaning back with his hands behind his head.

Hel licked her lower lip “Oh, I’ve tried everything to get my claws on some of these back then when I was a student here, in the Cloud Tower.” she muttered “Are there any books for my taste?”

The sorcerer pursed his lips “I haven’t come across anything about necromancy or shadow magic, yet.” he said, then pointed at the books with his head “But I’m sure they are simply hiding somewhere in those pages.”

Hel sent him a fake smile “Then inform me when you find them, will you?” she said, which caused Valtor to let out a soft chuckle “So, whom are you fighting this time?” she asked as she began to draw circles on the desk with the index finger of her right hand “I suppose the Company of Light is not really in the game anymore.”

Valtor shrugged recklessly “Well, there aren’t many people who dare stand against the mighty Valtor,” he spoke with an arrogant tone “Except for the remnants of the Company of Light and a bunch of fairies.”

“A bunch of fairies?” Hel repeated him and threw her head back as she let out a long, loud laughter “This is hilarious –and you haven’t got rid of them yet? In front of the mighty Valtor, fairies should be no different than flies.”

However, a frown appeared on Hel’s face when she couldn’t get the expected reaction from Valtor –instead of mockery, a serious look fell into his grey eyes “Hey, what’s wrong?” Hel asked with a rather soft voice, which had been an instinctual shift, and reached forwards to place her right hand under Valtor’s chin. With slow movements, she lifted his head so that they were making eye contact “Talk to me.”

“The keeper of the dragon fire is alive.” Valtor said coolly “And she is one of those fairies.”

Hel withdrew her right hand as a shocked expression appeared on her face “What? The heir to the throne of Domino? Oritel and Marion’s daughter?” she asked “How is that possible?!”

The sorcerer crossed his arms over his chest “Apparently, her older sister has managed to save her from the attack on Domino.” he said with an obvious annoyance in his voice.

“And she poses a threat for you since the essence of her powers is pure dragon fire,” Hel spoke while she ran her right hand through her dark hair “Which is the only thing that can actually harm you –so your plan is to simply get rid of her, then end the Company of Light for good, and eventually spread your reign across the universe?”

Valtor nodded while he slowly stood up from the chair “That is pretty much the deal,” he said and smirked “And now that you’re by my side once again, nothing will stand in my way.”

Hel clicked her tongue as she moved her right index finger in front of Valtor in a disapproving manner “No, darling, that is not my fight anymore.” she said, which caused Valtor to raise a sceptic brow at her “The dragon fire is no longer an interest of mine –as you see, I do not serve the Ancestral Witches any longer.”

After taking two wide steps towards her, Valtor stood in front of Hel and placed his hands on the desk, on either sides of her sitting figure “What are you planning to do, then?” he asked, his eyebrow still arched. Just as Hel was about to answer, two ravens flying in front of the window croaked loudly “Looks like the word of your return is spreading quite fast.”

The two ravens Daudi and Skadi (meaning death and shadow in Old Norse, respectively) could be considered as Hel’s pets –apart from the time she spent in the Underworld, the ravens would never leave Hel’s side.

Hel shrugged “Don’t mind those two, they’re simply overmuch excited to have me back, that’s all.” she said “What I’m planning is, of course, revenge –you didn’t think you were the only one to plot their revenge during their time in the ice, did you?”

Seeing Hel’s dark side had always turned Valtor on in an indescribable way –no physical contact would be needed at that point. Simply feeling the dark, wicked aura surrounding her and radiating off her body would be enough for Valtor to lose every bit of self-control he had on himself.

It seemed like Hel got quite carried away while telling her plan, hence she didn’t notice that Valtor’s eyes were getting darker with lust every passing moment “First, I have to regain my strength and establish the order in the Underworld to rebuilt my army of the dead. Of course, there’s also one little sunny problem, too, that needs to be fixed –I’m never living the life of a bat once again. Then,” she said and playfully poked Valtor from his chest with her index finger “I’ll go after your mothers and their little minion Mandragora, only to send them into Oblivion for an eternity –one should get a taste of their own weapon, don’t you think so?”

For a moment, Hel stopped talking and slowly moved her right hand to Valtor’s face. Seeing that he wasn’t pushing her hand away, she began to trace his features with a faint touch “Until then,” she continued to speak “I might just stick around here for a while, y’know, just for the fun of it.” Her grey eyes were following the trail her fingers were leaving on his face. She was giving it all not to meet Valtor’s gaze for she could feel his intense looks on herself and she knew she’d melt the moment she saw the yearning within his piercing, grey eyes “Maybe I could visit some familiar worlds to take back the powers which once belonged to me.”

As Hel pulled her right hand back, a smirk spread onto Valtor’s lips. With incredibly slow movements, he leaned into Hel and pushed back the right part of her dark hair behind her right shoulder so that her ear wasn’t covered by the hair anymore. After placing his left hand on the right side of her waist, Valtor brought his lips on a level with Hel’s ear and whispered “So it’ll be like the old times, hmm?”

He still smells the same, Hel thought while she shivered once again –feeling Valtor’s warm breath licking her neck had always made her feel dizzy. Leather and cologne.

Valtor waited for a few second; however, upon seeing that Hel wasn’t making any moves, he slightly pulled away so that he was looking at her face once again. No matter how much she wants me to touch her, she is still the same old Hel –refusing to be the first one to drop the indifferent façade with every single piece of her will.

Well, love, the years we’ve spent apart didn’t blur my memory –I am still perfectly capable of bringing you to your knees.

“I could use the element of surprise against my enemies,” Valtor said while his right hand rested on Hel’s left upper-leg and once again, he was struck by the coldness of her skin. It was for a fact that Hel had always been colder compared to any other human because of her connection with the dead; however, she had never felt this cold against his skin “After all, the Company of Light has no idea that you’re back and I doubt the fairies know about you at all.”

Hel raised an eyebrow “I have no idea how long I’ll have to stay in the Underworld, Valtor –if I were you, I’d make my plans without taking the element of surprise into account.” she said and then took a deep breath upon feeling Valtor’s hand slowly caressing her inner thigh “So, which worlds have you conquered so far?” she asked, trying to maintain the indifferent face. Her efforts were only causing the smirk on Valtor’s lips to grow “Solaria, as I see, has been once again the first on the list.”

Slowly, Hel placed her hands against Valtor’s chest but because of the purple vest and the white ruffled shirt, she wasn’t able to feel much of him under her palms. At least he wasn’t wearing his long, maroon jacket –one layer less.

“Well, you know how much my dragon fire likes to feel the presence of the sun.” he responded “The two just have some kind of… chemistry.”

The edge of Hel’s lip curled upwards as she tilted her head to the side “And that’s why you used to sleep with the Witch of Shadows, hmm?” she spoke with a challenging tone as some little shadows circled around her head for a few seconds.

Valtor playfully rolled his eyes at her words “Her shadows didn’t use to burn me back then.” he said while his right hand left Hel’s leg and cupped her face.

“You should’ve known better than to leave me behind, Valtor.” Hel muttered under her breath but she silently gasped when his left hand, which had been resting on her waist, slowly slid under the hem of her tank top and held her bare waist.

“Hmm,” Valtor spoke with a deep and husky tone “Her skin didn’t use to feel as cold as ice, too.”

Well, two can play this game, darling, Hel thought as her hands, which were on Valtor’s chest, held him from his waist and pulled down into her so that there was very little distance left between their lips “Maybe you could pass her some heat,” Hel whispered against Valtor’s lips with a seductive voice, her eyes were trying to capture his; however, Valtor’s gaze was lingering on her lips “She still recalls the fire burning under your skin.”

Under her hands, Hel could feel how fast Valtor’s heart was beating, which brought a victory smirk to her lips. After Hel’s hold on him loosened, Valtor licked his lower lip and withdrew his upper body a little bit back while placing his right hand on Hel’s waist under her top as well. Slowly, he leaned into her ear once again “If that’s your wish, love,” he whispered and then placed his lips on Hel’s neck.

The amount of tension in this chapter was rather intense, wasn’t it? I hope you’ve enjoyed it, please don’t forget to give me some feedback!!

[rosepetals-flyingbirds]

Late at Night.

With: Modern!Ivar x Reader. (CEO!Ivar Soulmate!Au)

3.5k

The initial moment Ivar had observed you, was two months before the assassination of his father. 

You were Bjorn’s right hand and since the floor Ivar worked was five levels up he rarely saw you, of course Hvitserk has mentioned something about ’the hot partner of Bjorn’ but Ivar just scoffed and made some come-back as “Dear brother, if you spent your attention and time to make sure our company is well cared of with the same effort you spend searching women we wouldn’t have so many problems”.

But you had walked by him in a corridor going wherever it was you were going. 

Ivar had had to do a double take, looking back at you as you tentatively passed him in the hall, working so hard to stay out of the CEO way, Ivar wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, and after hearing complaints not only by his brothers but co-workers as well… you tried to avoid him at all cost.

True to be told you’ve never seen the younger Ragnarson before that event in real life, only by pictures in the newspaper or in Bjorn’s or Hvitserk’s facebooks tagged photos.

You heard the stories about him.

He sensed something within you that he never ever sensed on his life, considering it was rather lonely where he admitted or not.

As he passed you, he felt an incredible measure of light glowing from you. It threw him off and at the time bothered him. For Ivar, it was like a dense veil of smoke, pulling at something inside him, almost suffocating him.

For a short minute as you walked apart from him vanishing inside an elevator when the heavy door closed, he felt that feeling burning inside of his chest. 

You had to have only been near him for mere insignificant seconds at most, but it awoke something within Ivar, he had chased off in the reverse direction, infuriated and offended with himself that he would allow that stupid sentiment to touch him so intoxicatingly.

It took a while before he saw you again, perhaps two weeks had passed by and he had finally misremembered you, although that tiny sentiment of affection still lingered inside him, expecting to be awakened formerly again. Ivar had always considered that he had killed that stupid desire in him, he had his fun with a few girls he would pick up in parties eventually.

Being a pretty, smart, sexy and billionaire was pretty easy to find a girl, but Ivar was lonely in the most unpleasant way. He was really close to his mother but she was dead already, and when he and his father finally came along he was killed by their enemies. 

He loved his brothers, all of them, but Ivar needed another type of love. But his insecureness due to the scars he had on his legs due years of procedures to fix a condition he was born with where he couldn’t walk without the help of crutches and on the worse days he even needed a wheelchair -his brothers never made fun of him due it, besides Sigurd, but Ivar hated it, even younger he was always fiercer, yelling mad at his mother ’if we have so much money why we can’t buy me new legs?’ and later on he would appear with articles of medicines books with surgeries where could possibly help him- and after 5 years of procedures he finally could fix his problem, but the scars made him disgusted, made him remember.

And alongside all of this Ivar was cautious and headstrong. He barely had friends that weren’t his brothers, finding a girlfriend would be even harder than to most people.

Also, he was different than his brothers who could start a relationship with random girls, Ivar new people and was great in reading them, every time Hvisterk or Siggurd appeared with someone new, Ivar scoffed thinking of how smart the girls were ready to touch their money.

But when he ran into you again, quite literally, there it was.

You hadn’t been paying attention to where or who you were walking towards, and before you could even watch up to try to avoid him, you walked straight into the moody CEO you had heard so much of. It had been like running into a wall, Ivar was so towering and broad, and strong. Ivar caught you from stumbling, and when your eyes lifted to his, he could visibly see the color drain off of your face.

“Ivar! I’m so sorry,” You stated embarrassingly, attempting to step away from him, although you couldn’t because he had had such a tight grasp on you, holding onto your forearms.

Ivar had aspired to shout at you, to threaten you, to fire you like he probably would have done to any other person that risked get in his way. 

However he couldn’t make himself to, alternatively, he only gawked down at you, growing lost in your eyes, your force, your soul. It was nearly like you had been confining him to hold you, unintentionally, as you looked up at his blue eyes.

Ivar knew he should have shoved you apart and continued on his route to the meeting, yet you were so exquisite, and you were quickly making it appear so kind.

When Ivar’s hands had finally left you, was entirely sudden, letting go of his hold and moving back as he finally ordered himself to proceed on already criticizing himself for permitting to be so soft, to permit the feeling and wonder to appear again.

He could hear the words Aslaug used to say when he was younger, and Ivar wanted to forget it, the myth where in a few generations of each family each person had a soul mate, it jumped from his parents and that is the reason why Ragnar and Aslaug hated each other, but it was only a myth, Ivar wouldn’t fall for a woman in expectation of some blind tale.

You, differently, had been wondering why the hell you weren’t yelled at. Ivar Ragnarson was famous for his outbursts and mood swings, and even though you never really cared about the gossips from the company’s workers it was hard to ignore the thought since his brothers always mentioned Ivar somehow. The man did scare you a bit, his dark blue eyes, clenched jaw and serious face made you uneasy.

Yet there was something to him that yelled sadness, and for a second you questioned what had been going on his mind when he kept his hands on you and gazing at you like he had seen you before, like an old friend he cared for dearly.

But you concluded to forget it, Hvitserk and Ubbe would make jokes about that and why is the point of gossiping?

Ivar, differently, wanted to ask about you, wanted to talk with Bjorn about you, wanted to discover every slight detail.

Ubbe asked to change levels with Bjorn, which meant he would have to go to Ivar’s level floor, and you being Bjorn’s right hand had to go too, the bumps with Ivar would be frequent, what if that pull you felt grew stronger? 

What if Ivar becomes to gawk at you like the day you two saw each other for the first time?

Ivar had asked Ubbe to change of office, in that way he could watch you without the need to go down to your prior level winning the opportunity to get caught.

The man was so confused that when you and Bjorn grabbed the offices on his level he decided to ignore you, aspiring to stay away from you and your eyes that blew him confused at nightfall as he tried to have his deserved rest.

Yet with the days passing by, Ivar developed more interested and curiosity about you, trying to decipher and see if it had anything going on with any of his brothers since you worked with Bjorn, talked with smiles with Ubbe, and Sigurd and Hvitserk were your friends on facebook always tagging you in stupid memes or photos. Not that Ivar was stalking you… of course.

He was curious.

When you noticed him around the meetings you attended - something new since he never got involved in Bjorn’s part of the leadership - you decided to be professional and forget the ‘incident’ that has happened. Surely your anxiety wasn’t helping much, but you did try to imagine he was like any other director.

Ivar still managed to intimidate you with his intense stare, even Ubbe and Hvitserk made some remark about the ‘last Ragnarson finally wanting to be your friend too’.

Your smile would throw Ivar over the edge, he was sure by the end of the day that every time you laughed at Hvitserk’s or Sigurd’s stupid jokes it was only to show Ivar your pearly smile which annoyed him.

It irritated him at first, his brothers weren’t funny, but it became something Ivar grew to await, and he liked that you were also growing comfortable around him, slowly. The door of your office would be open, if you needed his signature in something you would knock on his door and ask.

It helped that he found himself accidentally scanning into your eyes trying to use his great perceptive reading to see your opinion of him, in which he would alter his behavior for you if necessary. That was something he has never done or bothered about with people. The person either froze under the most fierce Ragnarson or admired him - or admired out of panic -.

But he needed you to like him, to sense protected by and around him.

That’s what the last few weeks leading up to the loss of his father was, Ivar seeking to get familiar to you as you became comfortable with him.

Ivar wasn’t much talkative, so the two of you didn’t actually chat except if you needed some signature or if he asked something while meetings. 

He wasn’t a friendly person, and after realizing how lonely he was and maybe his weird behavior was a tempt to reach you, you decided to change that one day. 

Ubbe showed a new project he devolves with Ivar and since he let papers with the designing with you… the line between you two would be crossed, after a few weeks, you would finally vocalize to Ivar outer of ethics correctness.

Reaching his door you knocked in the dark wood. “Ivar?” He answered with a ’come in’ and you quickly did so.

Approaching him, a tiny smile was raising up the corners of your lips. He was sat on his chair with papers across the table and money quotations showing in his wide Dell desktop.

Ivar hadn’t looked up, but when he did you got lost in his eyes. All the Ragnarsons had beautiful blue eyes with hints of green, but Ivar’s was far the bluest.

He was silent and you took your gaze off of his eyes and cleaned your throat. 

“Hm, I have the design to the terrain you and Ubbe want to buy to build a mall, I wanted to talk about the other possibilities to the area. I know you are the boss here and the situation with the Wessex Enterprises are complicated but our partner in Ireland wants to buy the area to make a ring of apartments since its the most lucrative development that we have in the business.” You handed him the papers aside your new annotations and a fax from the correspondent in Ireland.

Joining all the paper which was splattered across his desk he put them aside neatly and took the ones from your hand.

Nodding after reading the papers he still hasn’t spoken a word. You almost turned on your feet to leave, afraid that he saw the idea as a form of saying how his idea was weaker, but then he finally speak up. “I like it, is really smart and the costs of construction will be actually lower. I approve it.” A smile reached your lips and you couldn’t stop it, it was always good to be praised in your work.

Ivar was, once again, perplexed… it was the very first time you smiled at him.

Why was his heart clenching?

“Has Y/N-” Looking behind your shoulder you saw Ubbe entering, he smiled since he saw the papers Ivar had on his hands and the smile on your face, nodding his head Ubbe smiled too. “I take that as a good sign?”

“Yep! I’ll contact Halfdan right away.” Looking at Ivar again you saw he extending the papers to your reach. “Actually this is yours, mine is in my purse.”

Ivar chuckled and shook his head slightly, you were precautious and prepared, he admired that.

                                 …

After the day where you spoke with Ivar about the new project you hadn’t the chance to do so again, he took a couple of days off and you were worried, he has never taken days off.

Hvitserk and his big mouth mentioned that he was at home doing a quick treatment that with the new cold weather coming up his legs were taking a toll on his, of course Ubbe slapped his head when he did so. It wasn’t like Ubbe would hide things from you, he was your friend, but the subject in the topic was Ivar’s business not his nor Hvitserk’s.

After that day you pondered about what has happened to Ivar, you had never imagined he had any sort of troubles, once you overheard Sigurd calling him Jimmy with even the same yell the character from South Park would do, but you never gave it much though, Ivar didn’t use crutches nor a cane -and Ivar’s answer to Sigurd was something flying across the room with a shout-.

When Ivar came back to work, he was with a crutch, some workers gossiped about it but what had called your attention was his hurtful expression. 

The moment you saw him your heart clenched, it was definitely making him sad, he always imposed himself and worked hard to be the best. Watching his painful strides where your eyes almost teared up the next thing you felt was Ubbe leaving the table he was sat beside you and rushing to Ivar’s reach.

Both discussed, Ubbe said he had to go home, he had to take his meds and rest. But Ivar dodged saying he needed to work, but the truth was that not only Ivar was worried about his status but he was also feeling the dreadful mourning of his father.

Later that day you stood until tardy hours trying to finish a document necessary for an outline you and Sigurd where working on. Only when Bjorn left leaving a kiss on your cheek that you saw the hour in the big watch above the office door: 11 PM.

Grunting you rubbed your face and stood to work in the project, the next day would have a meeting and you couldn’t lose time. It wasn’t like you had someone to go home to, of course your dog and your two cats would be pissed, but well, you had to work to feed your children.

Finally finishing the project you let a sigh and smiled relieved and with the feeling of ’work is done’ making you smile relieved, however a loud shattered glass sound startled you. You widened your eyes at that, the building was highly protected, but it didn’t stop your worry.

You accessed the code on your computer to see the cameras all over the floors searching for some intruder or attack. 

Seeing it you let a relieved sigh when you saw it was all normal, the place was almost empty but all the bodyguards were safe and sound in each level and you could see the janitor in the first floor waxing the ground, he wouldn’t be working so calmly if someone broke in.

But something broke again, walking to the sound you saw where it came from: Ivar’s office. Might be a six sense but you felt a feeling running on your veins: Anger. It could be crazy, but you knew it wasn’t your sentiment, but his.

Opening the door not caring to knock you found Ivar with glassy eyes supporting his body on his desk, his crutch in the other side of the room, a broken portrait in the floor with a picture of Ivar alongside Ragnar, and other objects broke in the floor all over the place.

“I-Ivar.” Calling him, understanding it isn’t the best to stay silent watching him suffer. But you panicked at seeing him turn so quickly, the anger directed to you.

Ivar tilted his head, his eyes watching how you nervously look up and away from him, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to come up with a good manner to help him. “What are you doing here? Is late already.” He sniffed which encourages you to continue.

“I heard the sound and I’m sorry for opening the door without knocking but… if- if you want to talk I want you to know I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Ivar scoffed and you felt offended by it. “Help me? Why? So you can call me friend and finish your album of buddies?”

The venom that dripped from his words almost itched your skin. “I don’t collect friends Ivar. Your brothers are nice and great coworkers, just because you never talked to me off work or even tried to be nice even after that weird day where you held my arms it doesn’t mean you have to be bitter about it.”

“So you came all over here to give me a sermon then uh? You can go now, I bet Hvitserk is waiting to make his stupid jokes.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? What have I ever made to you? Or you’ll tell me you’re always like that?”

“I didn’t call you here in the first place, the door is right there so-” Ivar’s feet gave out and he lost his grip from the desk, falling in the floor you ran to his reach touching his arms as he flinched. “Leave!” He yelled but you saw how wet his face was becoming. “I don’t-” Sobbing he shook his head. “I don’t need you here.”

You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t hug him, so you pulled your skirt trying to cover your legs a few more and sat by his side silently. Ivar’s wide eyes looked at you up and down, curiosity all over his face. “What are you doing?”

“Staying here, I know you’re mad but I don’t want you to be alone.”

He tried to find mockery, tried to find a hint of a joke… But he found none, you were actually worried about him. Ivar was used to have his tantrums and his brothers knew to leave him alone when it happened, but sometimes he wanted comfort.

After a few seconds of silence Ivar became uneasy. “What happens now? You leave or we talk about it?”

Chuckling at how surprised he actually were you bit your lower lip. “You have never been comforted before uh?”

Chuckling he nodded. “You would be surprised.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” He nodded but kept quiet, his tears ceasing now. “And about your pain.” Glancing at you curiously you were quick to add. “Your legs, when I saw you earlier your face showed pain. And I’m sorry.”

“Is a curse, you have no idea how many procedures I’ve to endure, but as an old man every time the weather changes the pain comes all again.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Stop apologizing woman, isn’t like that shit is your fault.”

You started to laugh. “You really had never been comforted before, Jesus Ivar. Calm down.” He gave you the start of a laugh and your smile brightens the daintiest as you gaze up at him with more determination. “You took your medicine already?“ You shyly asked, you didn’t want to cross the line too much.

Ivar doesn’t have to reflect on his answer, and he’s surprised by himself for what it is. The fact that his day was going better than most was because you were talking to him, actually communicating to him and worrying about him, and not just because you had to but because you wanted to. 

But he couldn’t tell you that, nor did he really want to say it out loud to make it truer.

“Yeah, the other dose is later on!” He replied instead, too brutally than how he meant, Ivar doesn’t like how your smile falters, or why he cared so much about it.

“Oh… sorry… I didn’t mean to meddle,” You apologized, looking away. He almost groaned, but instead, he nodded and got on his feet not liking how you’re swiftly making him feel. He needed to get away.

Ivar knows he should go home to ignore what he’s feeling, and how he felt like he had been deliberately being ripped up over the last few weeks from being around you. But he knows he would ponder about the encounter.

Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like he was suppressing it if he was he would ignore you, not go around your meetings or tell Ubbe to send you instead of him, or at least he wasn’t hiding his weakness for how his soul was shining, trying to reach yours, but you on the other hand… it was another story.

Why were you affecting Ivar so much? The soulmates tales were true after all?

Getting on his feet you quickly followed and gave him your arm to show support, he could dismiss you, he always dismisses people. But he accepted it and walked to hold his desk while you grabbed his crutch.

Ivar bowed his head in a silent ’thank you’ and you crouched down to grab the picture, shaking the glass pieces you looked at the photograph, he was smiling… how beautiful were his smile, long teeth that added even more positively to his handsome features, and Ragnar by his side clearly proud of his youngest son. “You have a beautiful smile,” Giving him the photo he kept gazing at you. “You should smile more often.”

Ivar unconsciously does so and you smile back, indeed, a beautiful smile.

Ivar notes on his head how your eyes shine at him differently than when you smile to one of his brothers.

“I think you should go home.” You tentatively said. “Are… are you alright to go? You have a car or someone will drive you? I mean you probably have a driver-” Ivar’s lips met yours and you were pretty shocked at that, but when his tongue passed through your lips and your heart clench in such a good way you gave in and answered with the same fever. 

Your hands were on his waist, as more you wanted to run it over his beautiful hair you were scared he would fall and hurt himself.

Either of you knew if it was seconds or years that passed but when the kiss stopped Ivar looked into your eyes trying to see if you felt the same as him, and when he did saw the sparkle his eyes fall to your lips again and in a second his hand was on your neck pulling you near again.

It felt so right, so… destined.

Hearing a faintly whisper you broke from his lips and looked around. Ivar was worried too. “Did you heard it?” You nodded but it sounded like… your grandmother’s voice saying the word soulmate, how she would tell the story every time you begged her to tell you when you were a small girl searching for your Prince, believing that he was out there. And Ivar heard Aslaug’s voice telling the same word.

It was a bond, Ivar finally found his love, his friend, the person that would make his loneliness disappear. His soulmate. And it felt even better knowing that you found him too.

                           …

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Black Coffee: Part 4

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend.  Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Hints at sexual situations. Word Count: 1,925 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: I wasn’t planning on making this a series...and yet there are now 5 parts. Which ended up working out perfectly with my Fire Pit scenario prompt for @beckzorz 1K challenge. Thanks Becca for hosting this and congrats on 1K.

The walk to Quay 4 only takes a couple of minutes; one of the pluses about staying at your apartment and not at the tower with Bucky. The occasional jingle of your keys against the glass growler act like windchimes in the early fall breeze. You round the corner of the final block and come face to face with one of your favorite views of the city. The East River is nestled between lush trees. Some of them have started show hints of the color change at their edges but most are vibrant green determined to hold onto the last remnants of summer. The Brooklyn Bridge is in the backdrop, already beginning to fill with morning commuters you note. That last detail has you pick up your pace a bit.

The barista at the coffeeshop greets you by name as you hand over the growler to be filled with cold brew. It should last the two of you your entire trip. You also order some pastries, your regular hot coffee, and Bucky’s black with 15 sugars. The barista doesn’t bat an eye.

“Where is the sugar addict and the pups anyway?”

The two of you clearly came to the shop too often.

“He should be walking back from the dog park now with both of the mutts and packing the last bits into the car.”

“Packing?”

“As celebration for me being done with school we’re headed up to Adirondack State Park. We’re taking both the fluff balls and camping for a week.” You quickly shoot off a text to Bucky telling him your on your way back. You hope the car is packed so you can start the seven hour drive and beat the worst of the traffic. “No work, no school, and maybe no cell service if we’re lucky.”

The barista wishes you a safe trip and hands over the growler. It’s cool to the touch and feels pleasant during the walk back. Despite fall officially arriving next week, the weather in Brooklyn still felt warm. You knew it could very well change further north.

You truly couldn’t believe it was fall already. Truth be told, you hadn’t had much of a summer as it was filled with classes, papers, and final exams to wrap up your graduate degree. Somewhere in the haze and craziness, you and Bucky had passed your one year anniversary.

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

You’d been surrounded by pens and textbooks. Notecards littered the floor in semi-organized piles. Bucky had let you lock yourself in your office all day to study for a particularly challenging exam. It wasn’t until bedtime, you remember, he’d tapped on your office door. Both Ruby and Rufus had assaulted you with kisses and demanded pets from their long lost mother. Being engrossed in the puppy love, you hadn’t realized Bucky had entered and brought in a cupcake with a single candle.

“Happy Anniversary, doll.” He had said with a sleepy but beaming smile. “I know you’re studying, so I don’t want to derail your progress, but I love you. I can’t wait until we can celebrate.”

You’d started sobbing. You weren’t sure if it was the thoughtfulness, the sleep deprivation, or the fact you’d been so stressed you’d forgotten the anniversary all together. Bucky had understood of course. This trip was a delayed anniversary trip of sorts in addition to celebration grad school being completed. The memory was a fond one and you hoped the trip would be the celebration you both deserved.

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

You turn onto your street and are greeted by a stunning view of your boyfriends plump backside. The rest of him is buried, digging around in the back of the jeep no doubt triple checking the camping supplies. Your catcall and whistle startles Bucky and alerts the dogs of your return.

“Hey hot stuff!” You come up and smack his behind. “I got some cold bean juice for you.”

“I love cold bean juice...but don’t tell my girlfriend I prostituted my behind for it.” He pulls you into a quick hug and kiss, lightly squeezing your own bottom.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You stow the coffee in with the rest of your food in the cooler. “I’m certain your girlfriend is too busy wondering if everything is packed and if we still have a chance on beating traffic.”

“Then I would ask why my girlfriend is talking in third person and has travel tendencies like some 55 year old suburban father.” He scoffs; a lopsided smile playing on his lips before he takes a long pull from his coffee. “But yes, everything is packed and ready to go.”

You call the dogs up into the backseat and haul yourself into the passenger side. Bucky slides his mirror aviators off the top of his head and onto his face, queues the road trip playlist you’d both made the night prior, and coaxes the jeeps engine to life.  

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

The drive had gone smooth enough. The polished, hard, grey surfaces of the city had melted and changed into open roads surrounded by multicolored countryside. You found yourself ignoring all the books and things you’d brought to pass the time and embraced staring out the window. It was relaxing to look out at the farmhouses or abandoned buildings and imagine what lives had been lived in them and what the people had been like. Bucky had decided to turn the drive into his own personal concert series and sang each and every song with gusto until his throat started to get sore.

Bucky had insisted you guys chose one the rustic sites far away from the loop of traditional campsites with water and electric (and near the showers you’d noted). Something about “it’s not real camping if you can charge your phone”. After checking in with the ranger and procuring a map, you drove off in the direction of your plot.

You had to hand it to him for choosing a beautiful spot. He’d certainly done his research. The site was heavily wooded along the dirt path leading up to it. It opened up to a medium sized clearing which is more than large enough to park the Jeep and set up camp. On the east side of the clearing was a creek. If you had to guess, it was probably a moderate size tributary by the steady rushing of water sounds against the stone banks but likely no larger than five feet across. On the west side there was a smattering of wild flowers basking in the sunshine. During your admiration of the site, Bucky had already done a loop of observation and chosen the flattest spot on high ground for the tent.

“You just gonna stand and gawk or help me set up camp, darling.” He called to you already having unrolled the tent tarp. “Unless of course your gawking at me…”

He’s smirking into the sunlight. Sadly the sunglasses are blocking his stunning ice blue eyes, but the vibrant smile and his carefree posture are enough to make you sigh. Your boyfriend had been through a lot. Seeing him so carefree never failed to fill your heart.

Setting up camp didn’t take long. Despite Bucky’s joking requests for help, he had a very dictatorial style of camp set up and took over most of the tasks himself. You didn’t mind unfolding one of the lounge chairs and keeping an eye on the dogs exploring their surroundings (and sneaky glances at your slick with sweat boyfriend).

Dusk had settled over the campsite and somehow it was more beautiful than when it had been bathed in sunlight. Bucky had started a large fire in a homemade fire pit hours ago. The fire had finally produced enough coals for you to set up the large cast iron pan on the fire to begin cooking dinner. The smells wafting from the fire were heavenly and stirred your stomach. Bucky ignited the solar powered lanterns you brought with and the plot was bathed in a warm almost candlelight glow. Ruby and Rufus had wiped themselves out with exploring and chasing fireflies. They were both now curled up next to the fire rousing only in hope of some cooking fallout.

You fished the foil wrapped potatoes out of the blazing hot coals, adding two to Bucky’s plate and one on your own. The meat had a perfect crispy outside thanks to the cast iron’s caramelization. You’d made sure to make enough protein and tossed some sweet potatoes in to give the dogs a special dinner tonight. Last thing to go on your plates were the veggie skewers from the grill grate. It was a damn good meal considering you were rusty on your camp cooking skills.

Fully sated, the two of you lounged in the freestanding hammock you’d managed to convince Bucky to bring. The crackling of the fire created a relaxing soundtrack along with the sounds of the forest and the babbling of the stream. The dogs had curled up together on their outdoor bed.

“Darling?” The word is mumbled into the crown of your head while you lay across Bucky’s chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

You were fully ready to brush off the praise like you usually do but the self deprecating joke died in your throat. You found yourself overwhelmed and a tad emotional. You were done. You’d finished your second degree. You lifted your head to meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“Thank you, Buck. Happy late Anniversary.”

He kisses your forehead before his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and delicate and filled with love. The fire pit and the flames within it had burnt down to a slow sultry roll. You pull away and brush back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Bucky’s forehead; the same one that always went rogue.

“So… how far away is the nearest campsite?”

“A couple miles at least. Why?”

“Far enough if someone were to scream or something, no one would hear?”

“Are you planning on murdering me, love?”

“Not exactly.” You gaze into his eyes and see the amber fire reflected in the blue pools. The deep tan of his summer skin is backlight from the light cast from the pit and lanterns. It’s sinful how good he looks right now. You shift your weight in the hammock so his thigh rests between your legs. He still looks puzzled and moderately worried about you turning into an axe murderer. You roll your hips as much as the hammock net permits and plant a kiss to the exposed skin on his neck.

“Ohhhhhh!” The exclamation turns to a low groan as you suck deeply onto his neck. He tries to pull you into a new position for better access-

“What the hell babe!” You plop not so gracefully onto the cool grass. “If you weren’t in the mood you just had to say so.”

He can tell your anger is lighthearted as you’re unable to contain your giggles. In the needy attempt to touch you, Bucky had disrupted the equilibrium of the hammock and tumbled you to the dirt.

“I told you I hate this damn thing!” Bucky attempts to get out himself but stumbles as if to prove his point further. “Tent!” He points at the blue structure and says the word with conviction. You think it’s a command to get the lazy dogs to move but as you scan his body you can see the very clear bulge in his tight shorts. It was safe to assume the relaxation period had come to an end.

[ikementally-deficient]

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 6: Chrysalis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Second to last chapter! Our first occasion of sex in the traditional penetrative sense, I’m so proud of them. One more to go; I might get it written this weekend if all goes well, but time is an illusion, productive time doubly so, so who knows.

Also of note: I finally managed to work in the prompt that started this whole mess!

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

He can tell there’s been something on her mind. When they go out, she casts sideways glances at him, thinking him oblivious. She hesitates before taking his hand in public. She flinches every time another woman passes by.

“What’s on your mind,” he asks her over tea.

She flushes, her eyes skittering away from his steady gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He chuckles. “Of course you do.” He sips his tea, studying her over the rim of the cup. “You seem apprehensive, lately. Hesitant. As though you’re afraid you’re being watched, and judged.”

Her fingers fidget around the handle of her teacup. She sighs quietly. “Yes -- yes, I suppose I have.”

“Why is that?”

“Well --” she trails off, still staring into her cup. He waits. When the rest of the sentence comes, it’s in a blurted rush. “I don’t know what you see in me.”

It’s rare that Lucien finds himself caught off guard. He stares at her, cup still tilted in mid-sip.

She continues. “You’re so intelligent, and educated, and -- and h-handsome -- and my audiences love you, and I’m just --” her voice lowers sadly, “I’m just me. Plain and boring.” She turns the cup in its saucer, refusing to look up. “I mean, I know you’re getting tired of me.”

Lucien tries to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order. “What makes you say that?”

“We --” her eyes dart from side to side, checking that no one else in the cafe is listening. “We haven’t even had sex yet,” she whispers. “Not properly. And you’re never, you know --” She gestures vaguely to her own lap, “ interested .” Her forehead is glowing beet red.

Lucien puts his cup down slowly, precisely centering it on the saucer, before he answers her. “I’ve been holding back, you know. I didn’t want to rush you.” Too controlled. He never thought there was such a thing. “I’ve been very interested , but my self-control is quite good.”

She still doesn’t look up at him.

“Do you remember the night you couldn’t sleep, and asked me to tell you a story over the phone?”

She nods.

“The artist and the butterfly. The colourblind artist and the golden, glowing butterfly.” Lucien smiles warmly at her. “I don’t know if I can explain it in better words than those, but perhaps I can show you.” He rises to his feet and drops a few bills on the table before holding his hand out to her. “Will you indulge me?”

Her lashes are still lowered, but she looks up through them, the gleam of her golden eyes tantalizing him. “Of course, Lucien.”

They make a few purchases on the way home: an art store, for India ink and brushes. A theatre store, for gold makeup and sponges. Lucien slides his coffee table out of the way and lays down a sheet on the floor. He stands a large mirror at one end of the room. She watches his preparations with avid curiosity.

“Here,” he tells her. “Take off your clothes for me, and lie down on your stomach.” She is, as ever, obedient to his wishes.

She lies naked before him. Her head is turned to one side, pillowed on her folded hands. Her elbows are splayed out in a line with her shoulders, letting her scapulae rest flat against her ribcage. Her legs are straight. The soles of her feet face the ceiling, big toes resting against each other as her ankles supinate outwards.

“Ink me, Professor,” she murmurs into her hands.

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

The brush drips black ink as Lucien holds it over the pot, waiting for the excess to run off. He carefully studies his canvas in the meantime, contemplating the placement of the next line.

His work is a delicate tracery that stands in stark relief against her pale skin: the careful symmetry of butterfly’s wings rooted between her shoulders, spreading across her upper arms and down her back, wrapping around her ribs and ending in a gentle curve around the undersides of her buttocks.

She’s been lying motionless as he works, for nearly an hour judging by the movement of the sun. Her breathing is so even and relaxed that Lucien thinks she’s fallen asleep. He wipes the brush clean and lays it down, then replaces the lid of the ink bottle. Finally he sits cross-legged to examine his work, losing himself in the intricate tracery of costal and sub-costal veins.

“Are you finished, Professor?” Her sweet voice breaks into his reverie.

“The first stage,” he replies. “The ink should be dry soon.”

She hums in reply, wordlessly comfortable.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Mmmhmm. The sun is beautiful on my skin.” She opens her eyes languorously, and he leans into her field of vision. Her answering smile is warmer than the sunbeam they’re resting in, and he gives into the urge to lie down on his stomach perpendicular to her, so he can breathe kisses onto her eyes and mouth. She giggles, a delicious ripple of joy which starts a warm liquid wave in his stomach that melts a path straight up his chest and face. He rests his chin on his forearms and smiles at her, a spontaneous smile that feels completely foreign on his face.

“I had the dream again,” she sighs, and all the warmth in him freezes solid.

“Which dream?”

“You know, the one from before --” her foot kicks in lieu of waving a hand. “The one with Kiro and the fog and that black haired woman.”

Lucien forces himself to breathe normally. “Was it the same?”

She shakes her head minutely, obedient to his warning about the drying ink. “No. Kiro wasn’t there this time. You were with me instead.”

The ice in his chest cracks; he can feel his heart start to beat again. “Oh.” He breathes in and out, once, twice, thrice before he thinks his lungs can carry on without active direction. “Good. That means I’ll be there to protect you.”

That means Zeus has taken his warning to heart. Helios will not be there to strip her of all his careful conditioning. That means she’ll still trust him, at the end.

Overwhelming relief sends a shudder through him, and he’s thankful her eyes are closed again so she doesn’t see. He watches her silently, memorizing every detail of her dainty features, currently blissfully relaxed and unaware of his tremor.

After a few minutes she rouses enough to look at him again. “Is the ink dry yet?”

He makes a show of examining her back, lightly dabbing his fingertips against the thick margins of her wings. “It seems to be. I can start the gold, now.”

He dampens a small sponge and begins working the shimmering pigment over her back, filling in each wing cell with iridescence that turns molten in the late afternoon sun. This is much faster work than inking the wings themselves, and Lucien finds himself working frantically, chasing the light across her. He feels a desperation in the pit of his stomach, a trepidation that isn’t soothed by the knowledge that he’ll be with her when she goes to the TV tower.

When he finishes, her entire torso is a beautiful blaze, resplendent and shining in the last of the light. He catches her hand, pulling her to her feet to stand in front of the mirror. He pulls her to face him and lifts her arms around his neck to show her the striation of the black veins as her wings flex and stretch. She cranes her neck over her shoulder to see her reflection. Her expression is a mixture of awe and delight.

“Do you see?” He demands hoarsely. He crushes her against his chest, heedless of the gold paint that smears into the weave of his shirtsleeves. “Do you see now what I see, when I look at you?” He turns her face to look up at him, begging for comprehension. All the other colours fade when he’s apart from her, but in his mind’s eye she is always golden and glowing. Her mouth falls open at his uncharacteristic intensity, but her gaze is compassionate and warm.

“Lucien, what’s scaring you?”

She doesn’t know. She can’t know, or everything will be ruined. Her awakening is so close now, and he doesn’t dare deviate from the plan. For the first time he regrets his choices, regrets his success in finding the Queen and preparing her for metamorphosis. He can’t find words to answer her, can’t bring himself to lie to her in this moment when she’s granted him such a tangible expression of his vision. Instead he slams his mouth against hers, claiming her in a fervid kiss. Her gasp of surprise only sparks fire in his belly. The voice of Ares ordering him to calm down and pull back is lost in the crackling inferno.

He bears her down to the floor and continues his voracious assault on her lips, not giving her a chance to protest. One hand tangles in her hair, the other fumbles urgently at his shirt buttons. Finally, impatiently, he yanks and hears buttons skitter across the floor as his shirt flies open. Small hands tug the tails free of his trousers and skim over his stomach to start pulling open his belt.

He grinds into her naked heat as she finds the button and zipper behind the buckle. He’s hard, rutting against her, the long months of self-restraint evaporated like water on a hot pan, leaving behind only the sizzle of need. She bites at his lower lip, not the tentative nips she’s essayed before, but a catch of sharp teeth and the taste of blood as she frees his cock and grabs his waist. She pulls him hard against her, and he slides up through her slippery folds, feeling the head of him rub along her nub. Her chest heaves under him and she releases his lip. He chases her mouth with his own teeth, before laying bruising kisses into her neck, moving down to the trapezius where he bites, hard, and rocks against her.

“ Lucien .” She gasps his name, husky and yearning, and he pulls back to look at her. “God, Lucien, please --!” Her nails drag lines of fire up his back and he pushes into her with no preamble. None is necessary: she’s wet and open and moaning wantonly with each thrust. She slides one hand into his hair and grips tight, as though fearing he’ll pull away. He returns to her mouth, panting into her, and grabs her other hand, lacing their fingers together against the floor. Her legs pull up around him and lock behind his lumbar vertebrae, pulling him deeper as she clenches around his cock. Lucien feels his eyes roll back in his head when his hips stutter.

“Not yet,” he hisses. He slides his free hand under her shoulders and lifts her with him as he pulls back into a sitting position. Suddenly her breasts are right at the level of his mouth, and he traps her against him to indulge himself in the plush roundness. She squeaks as he bites at the curving underside, but he feels her pulsing around him again. His ferocity isn’t frightening her. Just the opposite, in fact. He buries his face in her cleavage and sucks a red mark onto her sternum, branding her as his.

Lucien uses both hands to grasp her slender waist and lift, turning her on his cock until she’s facing the mirror, straddling his thighs. He spreads his knees, forcing her legs further open, and drags her back down to fully engulf him. His hands slide down her pelvis, gripping at her inner thighs hard enough to bruise before spreading her lips so she can see how he stretches her open.

“Do you see now?” He strokes her clitoris teasingly, and she jerks, driving her buttocks into him. “Do you feel how much I’ve wanted you, the fire you’ve lit inside me?” He wraps one arm across her pelvis and pins her to him, while the other hand keeps stroking, increasing in pressure and speed, until she’s shuddering around him, head fallen back on his shoulder and nails driving into his forearm. She’s entirely unable to speak; the only sound she makes is a keening wail while she tries to buck into him. His arm is an iron bar, holding her in exquisite torment. Finally he thrusts up into her and pinches her nub sharply. Her scream of ecstasy matches the violent clenching of her orgasm.

Lucien wastes no time in pushing her face-down to the floor and planting his hands under her shoulders. His abdomen slaps against her as he plunges in, whispering hotly in her ear. “You’re the only warmth in the world. You’re the only colour I see.” He can feel his thighs quivering and knows he’s close. “I can’t be without you.”

He groans gutterally as he comes, pounding against her helplessly until he feels empty and hollow. Breathing is difficult, and he rests his forehead against her spine. The gold paint is smeared everywhere, on her back and his chest and arms, but the ink wings are still precise and perfect.

He understands now that he fears losing her; not the Queen, but the woman wrapped around her. His butterfly.

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Two

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

 Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

 Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

 Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn

 Word Count: 3.8k

 A/N: Chapter 2 is here! Enjoy!

 Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, suggestive language and, swearing cause Jimin is a potty mouth.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 2: Banana Milk and Random.Org 

            You found yourself sitting in front of your coffee table, with your homework spread out like an unsightly table cloth. You were staring down at your notebook, the top of the page read, “Dear Fear: Milestone One” and, the emptiness on the page glared back at you. You were slightly intimated by the idea of exploring your fears for a grade. As interesting as Professor James’s project was, you felt uneasy as you willingly let your fears occupy your headspace.

     “3-5”, you thought, “that isn’t so bad. I am definitely afraid of at least 3-5 things.” You start with spiders because, you know, obviously. Then, you move onto the dark and deep water. There was something about you not being able to feel your feet touch the ground that absolutely horrified you. Finally, you decided on adding two more: heights and opera. Opera was definitely an odd one to choose but, you figured you would explain your reasoning in your research journal later on in the project.

    Your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call from the one and only Park Jimin.

                “Y/N!” Jimin’s twinkling voice sings through the speaker as he waves.

“Jimin!” You nearly sing back at your best friends face, his presence lifting your mood.

“What are you doing???” He tilts his head before turning around to shush a collection of whispers.

“Jimin, who else is there?”

“Nooooo one.” Jimin smiles innocently but, he’s eyes hold a bit of mischief.

“Don’t lie to me.” You giggle, craning your neck as if it would help you peer around Jimin.

“Kookie and Tae!” A much lower booming voice exclaims as you see two heads pop up behind Jimin.

 Your eyes light up at the sight of you two other best friends Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What the hell are you guys doing here???? I thought you wouldn’t be back until summer!” A wide smile is cracking through your face as you practically bounce in your seat.

“Well someone, meaning me, finally saved up enough money for a car, and someone, also meaning me, missed Green Terrace’s dumplings too much to wait until summer.” Jungkook professes, his hand on his chest. Taehyung rolls his eyes, his newly blonde hair, longer than you remember it.

“Someone, meaning Jungkook, also decided it was a good idea to not tell anyone we were coming so someone, also meaning Jungkook, scared the shit out of Jimin when he jumped on him in the parking garage of his apartment.” Taehyung explained, a smirk on his face as Jimin’s face turns to one of complete horror.

“Yah! You came all this way and scared the shit out of me just cause you missed some dumplings! What about me huh?”  Jimin demands, absolutely appalled.

Jungkook throws his head back and laughs before putting a hand on Jimin’s cheek.

“Aw Hyung, you know that isn’t true,” Jungkook practically coos, causing Jimin to soften a little. “I came all this way and scared you,” He’s careful to avoid the curse word. “for the BEST dumplings.” He finishes proudly, as Jimin ignites once more.

Jimin chases him off of the screen as Taehyung laughs along at their antics.

“Yah! You’re acting like lunatics!” He calls, shaking his head before turning his attention back to you.

“Kookie’s just being a brat. We both missed you. A lot.” Taehyung gives you a warm smile before snatching Jungkook by the collar when he tries to swat at a giggling Jimin. “You’re both gonna break something and, you’re ignoring Y/N.” Tae gestured to the camera as the two men catch their breaths.

   You’re beaming as you look at your three best friends, admiring the sight of them all together again. You four had been inseparable since the 7th grade, bonding over your love for dumplings and b rated horror films. The four of you had all applied to the same university but, Jungkook and Taehyung ended up getting baseball scholarships for a university, 320 miles away. Obviously, you all weren’t thrilled about the distance but, you and Jimin were both offered a full ride to your current university so, everything sort of worked out. 320 miles was far but, distance wasn’t enough to threaten the unbreakable bond the four of you had formed.  

“Alright fine! I guess we missed you, Hyung definitely missed you more though.” Jungkook asserts through the speaker, a glint in his eyes.

“Uh huh, we can stick to that narrative if it makes you feel better Kookie.” Standing up and pushing your papers aside, you make your way into your bedroom, making your way to the closet. “Talk to me boys, where are we meeting?” The particular jade hoodie you’re looking for is alluding you, which is frustrating cause you could have sworn that you just washed it.

“Come to my place! We can figure it out when you get here.” Jimin chimes in, his arm around Taehyung.

“Ok, I’ll be there in 10.”

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                The frantic knock you gave Jimin’s door probably conveyed all the excitement pent up inside of you.  The door swings open and you are pulled into a bone crushing hug, signifying that you weren’t the only one excited.

“Y/N!” Taehyungs voice booms in the crook of your neck as he holds you close, spinning you around.

“Your hair looks so good!” You cheer, your voice muffled in his neck.

“Thanks, Kookie hates the mullet but, he’s uncultured and doesn’t understand fashion.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a pointed look causing you to giggle. Jungkook rushes over, and throws you over his shoulder.

“I understand fashion Hyung and, your mullet ain’t it.” Jungkook jests before looking over at you.

“Y/N is that you? I had no idea you were even here. Small world.”

 After a second of giggling and pushing against Jungkook’s tower of a body, your feet are firmly planted on the ground and, you immediately wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m so glad you got a car, you idiot.”

“Me too.” He mumbles into your hair, his bunny cheeks decorated with a blush.

The four of you decided to pick up some take out from Green Terrace which means you finally get to sink your teeth into some dumplings. After thirty or so dumplings between the four of you, the substantial task of catching up finally has a dent in it.

“There’s this transfer student in my world dance class, who is one of the most beautiful men I have ever had the honor of laying my eyes on.” Jimin announces during a comfortable lull in the conversation. “I was staring at him during our group rehearsal and, the next thing I know my ass was on the floor and, he was just twirling around unbothered.”

The three of you laugh, shaking your head at the hot blooded pink haired boy before you.

                “Wow Minnie, you fell? He must be some dreamboat to distract the great Park Jimin in the middle of a twirl.” You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your orange soda, your eyes wide with false concern.

                “Right???” Jimin whines, leaning against Tae in pure agony. “I never fall but, today I did. Hard. I hate him for distracting me; I don’t have time for beautiful men in my dance studio.”

Jungkook cocks his head, his bunny teeth pressed into his bottom lip.

                “Hyung aren’t you seeing that girl already? Uh what’s her name again?” Jungkook inquires, confusion in his features. “Hailey?”

Jimin’s face turns up in absolute disgust as he shakes his head.

                “No, we don’t talk anymore she, was sending her nudes around the entire team and, everyone found out about it right before our midterm performance.” Jimin explains with acid dripping from his normally sweet tone.

                An apology passes through the three of you before Jimin’s fairy-like grin returns to his face.

“It’s alright. I have Mr. Dreamboat to keep me occupied and, if all goes well, he and I can get married and, I can invite Hailey to the wedding. Then, right as she’s about to congratulate me and my new husband, I will throw my champagne in her face, ruining her dress that she probably stole off of a JC Penney’s clearance rack.” Jimin explains casually, throwing back some more Soju.

You look at Kookie and Tae before, the three of you burst out laughing. Jimin holds back a smile as he slaps Jungkook’s arm.

“Yah! It’s not funny, that’s what she deserves!” Jimin whines, starting to laugh himself as he keeps hitting on Jungkook’s arm.

The conversation continues as Jungkook and Tae relay their frat house escapades; which involved: Tae falling asleep in two of the house’s three bathtubs, their mattresses being set on fire, and the recent people they have both slept with. There was also a rather entertaining story that involved a rubber duck, a half a can of whipped cream and, Jungkook getting his banana milk stolen.

“…and that’s why, from now on, I am keeping a lock on my fridge.” Kookie concludes, slightly breathless due to his over-animated storytelling. You giggle, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“I’ll make sure to send you home with a combination lock.” You assure him, a fond smile on your mouth.

“Thank you for your support during this difficult time.” Jungkook whispers through fake tears, leaning into your touch.

Tae nods toward you as he shoves another dumpling into his mouth.

“What about you Y/N? Any men steal your banana milk lately?”

Jimin wrinkles his nose in displeasure as he pulls you close to him.

                “Yah! Taehyung! No one is allowed to steal her banana milk! It’s priceless! She can share it but, they can’t steal it” Jimin insists, causing Tae to chuckle, holding his hands up.

                “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry. Is there anyone you are thinking of sharing your banana milk with?” Tae raises his eyebrows suggestively causing Jimin to smack his arm. Kookie leans in towards your ear as they fuss about with each other.

                “You shouldn’t share your banana milk, Y/N, whoever it is can just buy their own.” Kookie mumbles, his brows furrowed in confusion.

                “Thanks for the tip.” You whisper back giggling before speaking up. “Well, there is a new guy in my abnormal psych class and, he’s pretty hot. I bumped into him after class but, he kind of just said sorry and walked away so, we didn’t exactly get to talk.”

                “You should run into him again, you know ‘by accident.’” Tae suggests, his eyebrows wiggling up and down.

           “You should wear something sexy to class, to get him interested.” Jimin offers, smirking as he rubs his shoulder against yours.

           “I’m not going to wear something sexy to a lecture full of Psych majors; I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed that early in the morning.” You laugh, wiping your hands on a napkin, your stomach full and happy.  “I’ll probably just talk to him, if the atmosphere is right.”

           “Boring.” Jimin comments, smacking his lips as he finished off one of the last sticky dumplings.

           “It’s not boring, “ You giggled, grabbing Jimin’s half empty bottle of Soju to take a drink, the liquid coating your mouth and throat as you continued. “I don’t really feel the need to impress him but, I’d definitely like to learn more about him.”

           “Yeah I bet you do.” Tae murmurs as he nods toward you, a half smile tugging on the side of his mouth.  

A balled up napkin is thrown his direction, hitting him in the chest.

           “Shut up.”

Another round of laughter moves throughout the group before you settle into other topics of conversation.  

           You leave Jimin’s apartment around 3am after your best friends finally pass out from all of the carbs and alcohol. Spending an evening with them really does something for the soul. You took comfort in knowing that their lives were full of good memories, even if you weren’t apart of some of them. There would always be nights like these; nights when your quartet could reunite and, pick up exactly where you left off. Making friends wasn’t something you found to be particularly difficult but, finding friends like those boys passed out on Jimin’s couch, was something you believed, could only happen once in a lifetime.

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           Thursday mercifully arrives after you endured an annoyingly slow Wednesday. Walking to Candide Hall was still awful but, you managed to arrive early enough to find the ideal spot: not too close to the front but, not too far. The fear hierarchy list you had finalized sits on your desk as you observe the order you had listed them:

           1. Opera

              2. Heights

            3. Dark

            4. Spiders

            5. Deep Water

           You reaffirmed that this was the appropriate order as you would rather sit through six hours of the Italian opera, than going swimming in the middle of the ocean. The normal pre-class chatter is buzzing around as you see the boy from Tuesday slip into the lecture hall. He’s sporting a baggy black t-shirt that hangs down to his mid-thigh, black jeans: ripped, obviously, and the same silver earrings as before. His fingers are clutching the silver MacBook in his hand, as he shuffles through the crowd towards a seat that was slightly closer to yours. Tucking his body into his desk, he opens the computer, the glow from the screen slightly illuminating his face: pouty lips, button nose, and dark smoldering eyes. Dear lord, he was heavenly.

Professor James strolls in, less breathless than last time, and waves his travelers mug toward the room.

           “Goodmorning everyone, please have a seat and pull out those lists.” He calls, setting his bag and mug onto the desk.

There is a shuffle of paper throughout the room as Professor James turns on the projector. You look over towards the boy again to see him fumbling around in his bag before, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper. You felt curiosity beginning to bubble in your stomach regarding his list. What was he afraid of? His dark eyes flit up to the front of the room, as he waits for instructions. You watch as his teeth tug at his bottom lip, his long fingers once again drumming against the desk in a slightly chaotic pattern. Was he nervous?

           “Ok so now that you have you all have your list written, go ahead and pass them up to the front so, I can approve them; not that I don’t trust all of you but, I just need to make sure they aren’t too crazy.  One year, I had a student who put crocodile wrestling and actually booked a session with a trainer to get ready for a match with a damn crocodile.” He explains through light laughter, the room following his example. “So, let’s make sure nobody’s planning any croc wrestling alright?”

You smile to yourself as the room’s laughter dies down, as you pass your paper to the person in front of you.

           “Alright, thank you thank you. Now, let’s talk about the next portion of the project,” Professor James begins, the projector loading in the background. “…assigning partners. This project can be very intimidating and while, you will all be individually responsible for addressing your fears, it helps to have someone there to share your experience. The person you are partnered with will be your partner for the entirety of the project and, the pair of you will be responsible for reporting on each other’s progress throughout the project.  Now, this is not a tool for judgement, your partner is not there to criticize your experience, they are merely there to keep you accountable.”

Your face turns up with intrigue as he announces the new addition to the project. A partner would definitely make this project more bearable as, you would at least be able to share your uncomfortable experience with another person. One of your fingers crosses over the other, as you silently wish that your partner is the cute boy with the pouty lips.

           “This is quite a large class so, I figured the best way to assign partners is by random selection.” Professor James pulls up a website titled: Random.org. The screen displays at least a hundred different names, one of them being yours. “Once the website selects your partner, I want you to spend the remainder of the class on meeting your partner and discussing the best way to communicate throughout the project. You don’t have to work out all the details, just get started.”

With a click of his mouse, the website begins pair two names together and, within a few seconds, there are roughly fifty or so paired names on the screen. Your eyes scan the page for your name, squinting in effort to read through all of the other chaos on the screen before, spotting the familiar lettering.

‘Y/N and Yoongi’

           You only knew a few people in the class and, none of them had the name Yoongi. Shuffling out of your desk, you make your way through your other classmates, who had already begun speaking with their partners, up to Professor James’s desk.

“Professor? I’m not sure who my partner is.” You explain as he looks up from the computer.

“Y/N,” His eyes scan for your name on the list before nodding to the center of the room. You follow his gaze before feeling a stall in your heartbeat. It was him. Cute, laptop wielding, pierced ear, ripped jeans wearing…Yoongi. So, that was his name.  

He was looking at you, his hand coming up in a lazy sort of wave.

“You are with Yoongi, he’s a transfer student from Bradbury’s class.”

           That explained why you hadn’t seen him before. Professor Bradbury was another Psych professor on campus who had resigned unexpectedly, right before spring break. It would also explain why your class size seemed so much larger.

           “Thank you.” You smile sweetly at your professor, moving to make your way back to through the crowd. Looks like you wouldn’t have to find an excuse to talk the “hot guy from your Psych class.” Because, that hot guy was named Yoongi and, that hot guy was now your partner. Thank god for Random.org.

You walked up the stairs towards his seat, opting to plop down in the seat closest to him. His soft chocolate eyes watching you as you do. A warm smile graces your features as you nod to him.

           “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

He turns slightly in his desk as he nods, his pouted lips pursed together.

           “Yoongi.” He murmurs back, his voice carrying the same raspy tone you remember.

           “Nice to meet you, Yoongi.”

           “You too.”

A silence falls over you way too quickly before, you narrow your eyes toward him.

           “Were you just planning on waiting in your seat until your partner came looking for you?” You accuse playfully causing him to shrug, unbothered.

           “I like choosing the option that allows me to conserve the most amount of energy.” He explains matter of factly, his expression unchanging but, his warm eyes held a hint of sarcasm.  

           “Well, it’s always nice to have an energy reserve I guess.” A smirk plays on your lips as you pull out your phone, nodding to him. “Is your phone the best way to reach you?”

           Yoongi nods, his eyes still glinting as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

           “Yeah, here.”

The two of you trade information before, handing your phones back to one another. Your fingers brush his for a moment and, you want to roll your eyes at yourself for noticing something so small.

           “How do you feel about the project?”  Another inquiry passes your lips because, you’re supposed to getting to know each other but, Yoongi isn’t exactly a talker.

           “I think it’s interesting but, I’m not thrilled about the workload.” He explains,  his eyes trained on his fingertip that he is currently picking at. “I was kind of hoping we’d just have a final paper or something.”

           Your head bobs in understanding as you slip your phone back in your pocket. Yoongi had a point, this project was a little excessive and while you found the content interesting, this project is definitely  more work than you would have liked in your last elective course.

           “Yeah but, an essay wouldn’t make you more well-rounded individual, Yoongi, you got to think of the big picture.” You jest, your fingertips tapping the end of his desk and, at that he finally cracks a small smile, his eyes flitting up towards yours.

           “Is that what you think we’ll get out of this?” He questions, scoffing lightly, the small smile still playing on his lips.

           You shrug at his inquiry, leaning your side against the back of the chair, your elbow resting on the desk behind you.

           “You never know. I think it could be interesting.”

There’s something in the air between the two of you but, you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. Yoongi shakes his head, the remains of his smile still on his mouth.

           “Maybe.”

           The two of you move on spend the remainder of the class period learning a few basic things about each other. You learned that Yoongi’s major was music with an emphasis in sound engineering. He lived with a few roommates in a neighborhood in the middle of the city.   He explained that meeting at his house wasn’t really an option as he lived with three other guys and their house was always a wreck. You spoke briefly about majoring in Intercultural Communications and, how close your apartment was to campus which leads to a mutual agreement that you would both meet there for project related stuff.

           “You’re not allergic to cats are you?” You ask as you both began putting your things away, the class period dwindling down way too fast.

           Yoongi shakes his head, his black hair moving slightly as he does.

           “No, why, do you have one?”

           “I do, her name is Marzipan.”  

           Yoongi’s button nose wrinkles slightly, scrolling through his phone before, looking up at you.

           “I don’t really like cats.”

You make the decision to refrain from defending nature’s feisty and furry masterpiece and smile sweetly at him instead.

           “Don’t worry; she probably wouldn’t like you either.”

           With that, the class period ends and you make the move to stand up. Yoongi cracks another smile at your comment as he closes his laptop. The room is lit up with the sound of your fellow classmates making their way to the door and, as you adjust your backpack on your shoulder, Yoongi stands up and walks ahead of you. Once he reaches the bottom, he turns back to wait for you to get down.

           “I’ll see you Tuesday then?” You question, tilting your head as the two of you walk out together.

           Yoongi nods, his lips doing that weird smile thing again. [:

           “Yeah, see you then.”

           And with that, once again, he turns away from you to walk back towards the middle of the campus.

[calleo-bricriu]

How about some Sinday cards (FB verse)?

(( This got LONG! For reference, he's reading top to bottom, left to right for the first three rows and the cards off to the right are the two paths at the end.

Since the image is likely too small to read:

Top row: King of Wands, Four of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Seven of Wands, Queen of Cups.

Middle row: Queen of Pentacles, Seven of Cups, Six of Swords, The Emperor, Death, The Lover.

Bottom row: Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The World, The Hanged Man, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups.

The card that shows two possible paths: Two of Wands.

The First Path: The Wheel & Knight of Swords.

The Second Path: Page of Pentacles & King of Pentacles.

This one did make me laugh as @absintheabsence is an Aquarius and @tmvoldemort is a Capricorn.   ))

You know I don't keep any--whatever it is you're considering sinning here--to one particular day of the week as though I were some sort of reverse Catholic.

Since you didn't ask about anything specific, I won't either so, you get what you get.

So, we're starting out with the King of Wands. Usually a fire sign, outgoing, charming, good with words--it says fearless but, really, with this deck, I could almost see it doing those little finger quotation marks--supportive, lenient, motivated, if someone tries to put a leash on this one they'll turn into something short tempered, and will be likely to use those described traits to be as obstructionist and fall into, 'If you want to try and make me do something I'd prefer not to do, feel free, but you will fight for every scrap of ground gained and held and I'm more stubborn than you are' territory.

Lucky you, they're going to talk about me.

Yes, thank you, I am a bit stressed at the moment and am regrouping and planning for the future in a way that will center around self-preservation. No need to clarify further, I get it, we're talking about me.

I'm not entirely sure what sort of 'sinning' we're getting at here yet, so I'll just draw a few more. This one just makes it sound like I'm going to--the thing is, I do enjoy a good game of cat and mouse, only I'm often just playing at the part of the mouse; when I am caught, the one who's caught me might not get what they'd thought they were getting.

Which, good guess on my part, as the Ace of Cups points toward new relationships in which I am unapologetically myself and will allow them to think they've captured me when the reality is I'll have just decided the chase has become a little repetitive and dull and will "surrender".

I play that game a lot.

And I am absolutely going to make them fight for every little victory but, my personality being what it is, will always be careful not to push it too far; when you push it too far, they lose interest and that's no fun.

Mum's not going to be happy about it but, that's to be expected.

Neither is some other Witch, only this Witch is substantially less friendly sounding than Mum; well, that's not entirely fair, it looks as though she's friendly enough with those she deems worthy of it and the rest can burn. Reasonably good chance she is not going to care for me being around at all.

This one is one of my favourites to get in this context; it means I'm certainly not going to be bored. It also indicates a lot of fantasy and illusion or wishful thinking but, that's not going to be from my end. I go into these things knowing exactly what they are; what the other person decides to see is on them.

At least it won't be hectic after that initial ending of the chase. Also indicates travel, specifically overseas. Calm after a storm seems apt, but I may be jumping the gun on that.

HA! Rigid, stubborn, authoritarian, always has to have their way, struggles with affection.That's all I've got to say about that card apart from, "At least it wasn't the Tower this time."

Could've done without Death. I'm well aware it doesn't mean actual literal Death, but it does indicate change. Ordinarily I'd say it indicates a change in the one represented by the Emperor, however, the overall conversation here is about me and I do not care for that. I have a very good idea about what that change might be and I am not looking forward to trudging through that bog again.

But, I'm apparently not going to mind. For awhile, at any rate.

This Swords card, quite honestly, is likely talking about myself and the other one.  Dangerous, underhanded, resourceful, spying, manipulative, rational to a fault, lies, and getting away with it all due to being flexible, adaptable and having a keen wit.

That'll be interesting.

At some point, of course, it'll start to crumble because it was never based on anything more substantial than me getting bored with the chase and the other person's life in general taking a turn for the worse.

I'll come out of it successful, accomplished, and pick up right where I left off, however.

Until it gets to that point, however, I'll feel trapped or confined, which may be literal confinement and, from time to time, will very likely be uncertain as to how it's all going to play out.

In the end, however, it'll be good and swift news for me and I'll be cut loose with very little ill effect overall; this one also indicates a Fire sign as did the first card, so it's aimed at me. Not to mention, I'll come away with it massively better off than when I went in in terms of knowledge and skill.

And that's going to land me right in the middle of a lot of interest in the romantic sense from other people once all the dust settles. Weird, but okay.

I really ought to be sporting and ask it what happens to the other person; it's only polite--and they don't want to talk about that, this one is telling me I'll have two paths I can take after I'm cut loose.

The first path seems like the same old, same old for awhile; usual ups and downs, nothing spectacular, reminder to pay attention to how you treat people on the way up as you'll likely see them again on the way down.

The second card for the first path sounds kind of annoying, to be honest, but it indicates that if I go whatever the path is that isn't the straight and narrow, it'll land me right back with that person who has the strong personality, quick wit, charm, intelligence, and more than a bit of a rebellious streak who will, by that time, be a little more rational but also still impatient and impulsive if left to their own devices. However, they're such an exciting and elusive figure that people are still drawn to them. Usually an air sign, specifically Aquarius.

The more likely interpretation is that the Wheel and the Knight of Swords are one path that can be pared down to, "It'll come full circle, have fun with that."

So, one more card at least.

Page of Pentacles. Consistency, general good news, grounded, excelling in one's career, one of those 'young at heart' things. That's a little less dull sounding than the Wheel portion of the first path.

The only odd thing is that it also points toward getting involved with an Earth sign, and points strongest to a Capricorn.

King of Pentacles, everything else aside, centers around Capricorn again and flashes of high social status, building an empire, conservative views, keeps people around them by being very careful--until you're locked down--to come off as patient, generous and stable but, behind the curtain, you're dealing with someone cold, emotionally dead, resourceful, and who will turn absolutely vicious if they even think you've put a toe out of line and has a tendency to go right off the rails if they think whatever they want isn't happening quickly enough.

Someone who can't deal with criticism and--the cards use words like 'blunt' or 'brusque' but, considering the pair of cards, I'd put my money on it being 'will get very violent, very fast if any disrespect is perceived.'

I'll take my luck with the Aquarius if, for no other reason, that I haven't had a conservative point of view on anything since I can remember and would likely not get on all that well with a stubborn, bad tempered goat who does.

These things always go off on a similar tangent any time they talk about me lately, and evidently don't want to talk about anything else, which usually means they think I haven't properly acknowledged or understood what they're saying.

I have, on both fronts, I'd just rather not think about it as I don’t necessarily want to do either.

[ganymedesclock]

In your recent post about the hypothetical Sincline ships, you mentioned certain roles(Mediator, Herald, Mystic, etc.) that each ship's paladin fulfills. Could you maybe elaborate a bit more on each of these? The concept of a sort of "Alt Five Archetypes" so to speak intrigues me.

I mean, they’re not so much an alternate five archetypes as much as, I like the idea that Black and White, for example, would have the same archetype- they’re the head and they would both align with the concept of the Paragon, but, they would call to different things, to the point that they’re not quite interchangeable. So Lotor could work with the Black Lion, and probably better than with any other Voltron Lion- Shiro could work with White Lion, and probably better than with any other Sincline Lion- but Black and White are not the same, they call for different things.

Black, is in many ways, a champion in the light, obstinate in the face of any who would subjugate or ask them to hide themselves. You can see this in both Shiro and in Zarkon- these are people that when the world tells them to move they dig their heels in and say “no.” They assert their strength of will and their personal power by doubling down on resolve- any time the going gets tough they get more stubborn. It’s a very direct sense of values.

And that’s not to say Lotor never challenges people, never confronts- if anything, we see that even outside of structured theses where he absolutely dismantles someone else’s morals, Lotor can and will often take passing shots of judgment at people he dislikes, such as while convincing Zarkon he’s not up to anything in s4e3, Lotor subtly digs at how obviously Zarkon is neglecting him.

But it’s what Shiro and Lotor did to survive that differentiates them.

Shiro was the person who buckled down and held onto his ideals in a setting that was doing everything it possibly could to strip him of himself, to make him a tool of the empire- when his name was ignored he, in effect, made a new one for himself, and kept pushing, kept fighting. When Shiro the Astronaut was taken into the empire, Shiro the Champion forged himself as something that they wouldn’t tame.

In a way, Lotor also kept his sense of self alive under incredible pressure. However, that doesn’t become a name spoken at a reverent roar, and the one time it does seem to gain acclaim in s3e1, Lotor calmly suggests that means nothing- their acknowledgement is shallow and will easily go.

Where Shiro is in a way, the visionary in the light- someone who lacks a certain amount of artifice- Lotor is the conspirator in the dark. It doesn’t matter if a thousand people don’t hear him- if anything, that’s how he prefers it. He shows the sides of himself that need to be seen in that moment, and Lotor at his most sincere is Lotor in private, with only the people he wants in his inner circle.

So this made me imagine White as, in some ways, an illusionist. Drawing strength from charisma, manipulating attention, focus, what happens where your enemies can see you and what happens in the dark. Light, but light as blinding, bewitching, misdirecting.

And in another sense, White still embodying the Head, the Leader- again, in the sense that if you look where Lotor shines at his most earnest and authentic it’s when he is alone in company he completely trusts. Just like a Black Paladin, we see that Lotor’s downfall is isolation, that in some ways he seems the strongest of the team and in others he is the most dependent on the limbs to support and guide him.

From there, that creates an obvious interesting relationship with Cyan as the Right Hand. The Black Lion doesn’t really need anyone to announce it in the slightest so Red if anything takes kind of a deferential position as we see through Keith and through Alfor- Red in a way hangs back and supports Black, to rush in during their time of need.

But if we characterize White as an entity who in some ways obscures their own brilliance, it creates an interesting since that Cyan is the one who brings White into the light, that illuminates the importance of her beloved leader. Both to others- (s3e2, “You dare speak to Prince Lotor?”) and to that leader themselves, when the White Paladin might be lost to the darkness they survive in- this isn’t who you are.

In that sense, Pink becomes the counterpart, the left hand, who expresses their loyalty not by pulling White out of the darkness as-needed, but, as the one who accompanies White through the darkness. Speaking technically, while this is because of Narti’s somewhat rude dismissal from the plot, Narti is the one paladin we never see turn on Lotor in any way. As Ezor says, she trusts him. 

And that implies that in some ways, while Acxa obviously takes a sense of importance and relevance from following Lotor, and in s7 seems to describe herself as lost without him (that she had to separate from her other Sincline pilots to find her own path again)...

Narti expresses that same sense of loyalty, of being a Hand, by shadowing Lotor closely. She’s literally the person he calls on to watch his back when he’s summoned for a direct confrontation by Zarkon.

(which further plays into the ideas I have about the White Paladin- Lotor doesn’t hate confrontations, but overwhelmingly Lotor reacts to someone else’s confrontation- in s3e1, Throk was planning something and Lotor merely baited it into the open, in s3e3 Keith chases Lotor first, and Lotor cheerfully demurs keeping up the attack because it’s not the “day of our choosing”. In s5e2, both Black Paladins in a way are open about this confrontation- Zarkon orchestrates it, and Shiro arms Lotor. But the entire time leading up to the fight, Lotor is stonefaced, almost seeming resigned, and that’s how he remains afterwards- he doesn’t relish confronting Zarkon directly, merely acknowledges it as something that needed to be done.)

With Orange and Blue, since the nature of the Blue Lion is mutability and versatility, I would imagine Orange and Blue are the closest to each other. Roughly, I think what differentiates both of the Sincline Legs from Voltron is the sense that Sincline’s legs are more aggressive.

Ezor, the emotional side of the protection is the one who speaks frankly and calculatingly about the future of the team, and it is a very, very grim summation for Sincline indeed when Ezor actually says she’s given up trying to understand Lotor, when in s3, them happy and together, we see that Ezor makes a lot of effort to keep up with what Lotor is thinking.

I imagine in a healthier scenario, with Sincline moving towards apotheosis as a team rather than falling apart, Ezor would be the one most likely to confront and challenge Lotor when he’s withdrawing away from the team, for the same reasons she was the one to first consider pulling away from him after Narti’s death- because she can look frankly at the psychological climate and go “we’re not gonna survive like this.”

The biggest difference between Ezor and Lance- and by connection, Orange Lion and Blue Lion- is that we see Ezor ply her emotional savvy aggressively. Probably the clearest example is in s7- she easily skims the paladins, notice who’s in the most protected position, Pidge, and who as soon as she looks at Pidge, the other paladins start giving her death glares- and she knows immediately that threatening Pidge is going to get her the most leverage the fastest. In s3e2 she does similar things with the Puigian leader, taunting him and baiting him into getting sloppy.

And that makes sense. The Legs are those concerned with protecting the team, with seeing their allies as a mouth to feed, an injury to bandage, needs that call for redress. 

And the biggest difference between Sincline and Voltron is Voltron is a proud champion of the light, a knightly figure of a bygone age, born during peace and a harbinger of hope. Powerful, shielded, closely entwined with this sense of honor, and overwhelmingly, carrying a tower shield and a shining sword.

Sincline is a bandit, not because of a lack of values- because again, I imagine each piece of Sincline embodies much the same values as its corresponding piece of Voltron- but because if you have been starving for years, honor won’t feed you. Sincline did not streak across the sky and deliver itself as a shining beacon of potential to a court of lords. It was born during wartime, it panicked and hid itself; it waited centuries, powerless in the darkness, nestled in a trap it had created to keep itself safe and tear apart any unworthy that might approach it.

There’s a reason Sincline resonates with Lotor and the generals. It’s because they themselves, are fearful, cornered people. They’re not spineless or morally deficient compared to Voltron- but it’s easy to be a knight in shining armor when you have the money to afford the suit and a polishing kit. It’s easy to say that you want to not merely save people, but do so as a moral inspiration, when you have the luxury of not having to choose between the two.

So much of Lotor’s argument with Voltron at the end of s6 basically boils down to “you don’t understand because you were safe. You were safe, and comfortable, because you had people who loved you and hid you from the fire and the wolves at the door. I did what I did because while you were safe, I was out here, with the cold and the beasts, and I did what I had to because I needed to eat.”

So there’s a vein of not ruthlessness or depravity to Sincline, but of desperation. In peace and in plenty, Sincline is just as honorable as Voltron. But it doesn’t forget famine, because it can’t forget them- because it remembers that, and because that echoes in the heart of its chosen paladins. They remember what it feels like to starve, and that memory starts to gnaw on them when food runs low.

And in some ways, that would resonate most in the leg pilots- in Orange who is very versed in fear, in uncertainty, in “can we make it? Can we keep going like this? Should we be hoping in the future or should we be making sure we have somewhere to run to?”- 

And in Indigo, counterpart of Yellow, the team’s shield, who knows that while she might stock heavily in armor and strength, that she’s going to need to stay there and keep holding that defensive line even well past the point that it will hurt her. Hence why Yellow Lion is the Guardian, but Indigo Lion is the Martyr- not that she lacks the resolve to live in any sense, but in a way, Sincline is shaped by the sense that you can’t guarantee everyone will make it, and if you want to try, the best thing to do is to make a decision that if only four people can go home, you won’t waste time deciding before you push your friends to safety.

Though, that sense of Sincline as born out of want, out of necessity, out of fear would ring through all of them- it’s the significance of Cyan’s focus on Honor specifically because as the counterpart to Red, the visionary, Cyan is the one who looks towards that image of gleaming heroes in armor and says “we could get there, I believe in you. You’re worthy of those honors, too. I won’t let anyone forget it.”

It’s the significance of how Pink expresses her curiosity, her focus on knowledge and information- nobody, nobody sneaks up on Sincline on Pink’s watch. Which is, incidentally, the exact reason why in my original post I gave Pink the power to sense and disable cloaked targets- not only does it set her up as a nice rival to Green that way, but it enforces the idea that in canon, the beginning of Sincline’s end was losing Narti- because she’s the team’s vanguard, and from that point on, they had to operate blind.

And it’s the significance of White as a leader who, no matter how charismatic and clever, is not really comfortable being seen as themselves. While it was so brief, I really think it means a lot that in s6 we see that Lotor in an actual comfortable equal-footing environment with the paladins rapidly turns a bit sheepish and cautious- because Lotor’s most comfortable being seen when it’s an image he’s projecting, and it is a very rare currency of absolute trust when he actually lets his shields down, and he wasn’t quite there with many of the paladins yet.

While it’s funny to see Lotor blushing a little at Lance’s enthusiastic clowning, it comes back to the unfunny root that this is because, for most of his life, Lotor has not felt safe being who he is. He has to know he can trust people before he shows his hand. And that tying thematically into how I imagine the White Lion, as a counterpart to Black with that heavy focus on Identity and Self- but White is the concealed, protected Self that refracts itself through mirrors to become power.

[khaosgaming22]

Backstory Part 1- Recording

Alright i think im ready, Chase start recording, copy and paste when finished onto memory unit 14. Heh 14... oh right im live! Hi! So if you’re seeing this, im dead, in the ground, ripped apart, fed to a Hive god. Ugh I don’t want to go out like that! Anyway, before I start rambling, because I tend to do that, trust me that’s going to happen throughout this, im gone...or ive stepped to far into the shadow of quote unquote “the darkness” whatever that is.

In other words im a Dredgen, now if there are any greenhorns out there who don’t know what that is...ask Ikora. Im not a teacher, and... oh stop- okay fine. Since my ghost is looking at me like that ill explain. Ties into my story anyway...

*Ahem*, a Dredgen is basically a guardian who has turned to the darkness and is an enemy of the Vanguard...and i guess Shin Malphur.

Now that that’s out of the way, we can move on to my story and the reason ive become Dredgen if i have...

I think it begins with a name, Aleina. Love of my life before i started glowing and shooting high powered weapons everywhere. We were in the owl sector of the city and she wanted to show me something, she dragged me into a ship and flew to an area of earth i don’t even know where. But we got there and it was the most beautiful thing id ever seen. To be fair id spent most of my life in the city and its not that pretty but I digress... She told me Malcom had showed her this place when they were on a joyride, she called it Sacramento. Still not sure what it means but whenever i think of her it goes through my mind. Also the reason I remember this was because of what happened next...

We were sitting on the beach and watching the sun go down, waves dying down slowly and coming to a rest at our feet. She was leaning on me and about to fall asleep when I said “Im glad that Im not a guardian, even if i was immortal, if you weren’t...I would have to live without you forever...”

This is the part where karma bit me in the a**. Just as I said this she took her head off me and said, “Ken, You’re...glowing???” From that point on, my life was forever changed. I was the one thing I never wanted to be, a Guardian, immortal servant of the light.

We went home to the tower after and told Malco- Oh right! Ha Ha! Im an idiot! Who’s Malcom? That’s probably what you’re wondering. Let me back up a sec, Malcom Rayez was Aleina’s adopted father. He was also the person id soon look up to when I became a Guardian, but before that happened I hated the light. I hated being immortal, I hated being a guardian and having a destiny that was already predetermined...that didn’t include Aleina...

Now that I was a guardian I figured I had to make the best of it, I learned about the 3 types of Guardians from books and Malcom, and decided to follow in his footsteps and be a hunter. I went on a few small missions with him at first, nothing big like a vanguard strike, more close to patrols. Gathering info or holding a line, that kind of stuff.

Anyway, I went with him for a long while, back and forth from the tower to the city and back to space trying as hard as I could to still be with Aleina when I could. But no matter how many patrols and enemies of the light I took out, I still hated being a guardian, I referred to myself as a slave to the light once, Malcom didn’t like that.

Even worse, the further I went with the thought of hating the light and being stripped of my life with Aleina, the more I pushed her away...

Years went by and eventually she became sick, this was around the time I started to do more interesting missions with Malcom, I wanted to be there for her but I couldn’t. Again the light had pushed me even further away from her, I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when it got bad...

I mentioned earlier how if you were seeing this there was two reasons; 1 I’d suffered my final death, or 2 I’d become a Dredgen. This next part will finally explain all that. Back to what i was saying, I had reached the end of my rope, my leash to the light, I needed to find a way out.

Malcom was, at the time researching Luna, he had told me of a place on the moon he had seen, a massive Hive fortress. He said he could sense the darkness seeping out of the cracks, turning his warm light cold as ice. Told me how a fireteam of six guardians went to quell the source of this evil and died for good.

I figured, no one really knew what the darkness was, we just knew it was the opposite of the light. Something about doing this rubbed Chase the wrong way and I told him to leave me alone, so he did. Then I did the most dangerous, stupid, craziest thing I have ever done...

I jumped into the damn H-E-double hockey-sticks mouth. Without my ghost.

I visited the city hospital one more time before I left, she was knocked out cold, I kissed her one last time, pulled my cloak over my head and walked out. I asked Amanda for a favor, told her if anyone asked where I went tell them I went to Venus. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into but I knew Malcom would come after me if he knew where I was.

I arrived on Luna pretty quickly and landed my ship a little further from the landing zone just in case. I had read about another guardian, a titan? Maybe he was a hunter? Not important, a guardian who went to Luna and came back a changed man, a worse one at that. I think his name was Rezyl...

I transmatted my sparrow and jumped on, seeing a few Fallen Dregs but nothing I couldn’t handle, just lackeys. Soon I came to a pit, almost crashed my sparrow but braked in time, lucky. I looked into the pit, had to be at least a mile deep, no way down. No stairs, no transmat pad, no cliffs and smooth all around. Like it wasnt a formation, but made.

Fortunately for guardians we can survive long drops, but even this would take some inginuety. I grabbed my knife, turned around so my back was facing the pit, my front the Earth on the horizon, and jumped into the chasm.

I flip myself around, plunge my knife into the rocky side of the pit and start sliding down. I get about halfway down until I realize the pits bottom was solid shut. I quickly jump off the side of the wall, holster my blade and take the rocket launcher off my back. I aim the missle at the bottom and pull the trigger, the projectile races down to the bottom and blasts a hole in the hard stone. I put my launcher back and ready my hand cannon.

I make it through the hole in the bottom and its pitch black, I send some solar light to my knife and use it to see. I hear them before I see them, Thrall, tons of them, they’re drawn to my light and the chittering is getting louder. I load my hand cannon and charge toward them. The bullets that exit the chamber echo in the cavern until they find their mark.

Eventually the wave of Thrall are strewn across the cave floor and im walking over the dead hive trying not to trip over them. I keep treking through the cave and eventually get to a large room with some light. I see three Wizards trying to summon something, I decide I don’t want to know what it is and take out my sniper. I land shots on the first and second but it didn’t seem to do much and the third is summoning Acolytes to chase after me. I switch back to my hand cannon and start firing. I jump up on a ledge and take out the first Wizard as it lets out a screech that makes me pull my cloak up over my head. When the screeching ends I focus on the Wizard sending Acolytes trying to shoot at me and screwing up my aim. I load my last rocket into my launcher and aim for the head scoring a direct hit.

I move down from my ledge and throw a grenade at the group of enemies eliminating two of three problems. Then I move onto the last Wizard trying to take out my sniper but he throws a cloud of poisonous gas and I have to stop to dodge it. Then I summon my Golden Gun, I put 3 rounds into his head and he goes down. Im about to move on until I hear a rumble. I turn around to see the biggest Hive Knight i had ever seen in books or on missions, standing in the middle of the summoning circle and it looked...dark....

...You still here?