#but Americans have been fucking up my accent since before I was born

[actualhumancryptid]

I have to report that I saw the trailer for the Netflix drama about Belle Gibson and the American actress playing her seems to be shockingly good at an Aussie accent.

Whether it will be good… I mean I have the lowest expectations in this era of Mid TV (and also it’s Netflix not, say, Hulu), so the accent is enough I guess.

[grimeerie]

If Enigma of Fear comes this month,i am praying for this game to be absolulety marketed fucking EVERYWHERE online,cause not only Ordem is such a amazing project that deserves so much recognition,but being a fully brazilian/latino-made TTRPG,the idea of this series becoming worldwide-known means so much personally as a brazilian artist.

I've mentioned this on a post before,but the experience of growing up as a latine being constantly fed white american-centric pop culture,be it comics,TV series,movies,art in general,to such a extreme point it made me develop such high insecurity in my country's art and culture as a whole,is so deeply harmful that even after leaving that toxic mindset,that insecurity still lingers on.

And it's why Ordem as a project is just so beautiful as an rpg to me,like the campaign main setting? All brazilian cities! The characters? Brazilians from different parts of the country all speaking in the accent and slang of their state or city! The players? Brazilians! The promotional art,the music,the boards,the tokens? ALL BRAZILIAN MADE. Like this project in so unashamedly Brazil and that makes me love every bit of bit.

Even though the gringo side of the Ordem fandom may still be somewhat small,the ammount of love i've seen you all have for this project is so big; all of the fanart,fics,headcanons,every single form of appreciation has just been so good. Know that regardless of what you may think about the quality of your contribution to this fandom know that to me and so many other brazilian,your love for this series means a lot to us. The hype for Enigma of Fear has been wonderful to see,and DESERVED CAUSE THE GOD THE GAME LOOKS FANTASTICAL AND DUMATIVA PUT THEIR WHOLE DUMATUSSY FOR 4 YEARS INTO THAT GAME AND THEY DESERVE THE RESPECT FOR IT-

BUT ALSO i want to shoutout the QSMP fandom as well,cause y'all are insane fr,seeing people love the same CCs i've watched and loved since my childhood,the fandom interacting with us Brazilian ??? Learning about our culture???? LEARNING TO SPEAK PORTUGUESE???

Sorry for the ramble but like- the whole learning portuguese part still makes me so happily feral cause as someone who grew up on Internet fandom spaces,having to learn english on my own to be able to interact with others,especially english being the main language in most internet spaces,THE FACT THE INVERSE IS HAPPENING LIKE WHAT?? Serioulsly,the dedication man! That is awesome!!

Legitimately i don't think there's enough words to describe the appreciation i have for yall,so basically: thank you all,so much,for giving us so much love this past year,and i hope if Ordem does become big enough out there,that more brazilian art to come gains as much love as this one,we are such a diverse country with so much to offer,and im am so glad to be born to such a colorful and crazy country <3

In general i hope this will be an encouragment for all to support non-white american centric art in general,there's so much art from other countries to love and appreciate,that desperately need it.

So basically: Watch Ordem Paranormal,and play Enigma of Fear when it comes out. It's RPG,it's story,characters,worldbuilding are fantastic,its horror,found family,comedy and deliciously SOUL-CRUSHING angst. Trust me,you won't regret it.

É ORDO REALITAS CARALHO!

[sillyfriendssharingablog]

the iconic trio but if they were normal kids with normal lives, normal parents and in a normal town

this is a little peak of my modern/slice of life au that I love, it's literally one of the first things me and my bestie did when getting into mgs. it's very wholesome and cutesy, the exact opposite of its source material. I will talk about it fully later though, as I have other things planned for this month. This au is completely safe for other people to insert their OCs in. It is also set in Alaska, and most birthdates remain unchanged. But I'll give you some fun facts about this three little fucks and their normal lives as kids in my au.

Eli Sears (12 y/o)

Son of John and Eva Sears

half white American half Italian (in my head Eva is Italian stfu)

is the middle child (for a few seconds) and gets treated like it

lives in a very fucked up family (fucked up in the Family guy way)

vapes (thinking it's cool)

the vapes are stolen from uncle Venom

he despised his brother since the day they came out of their mother

acts all mean and angsty but still cries to his mama when he can't do his math homework

thinks he is the leader of the trio

cant tie his shoes

has braces

is a bit of a bully, or at least tries

is in their chuch's choir (in this AU the Sears are Catholics)

has a skateboard

Azedi Miller (14 y/o)

Adoptive daughter of Kaz Miller, that single-fathered her for most of her life

has a very deep and healthy bond with her dad, even if he is very overprotective

her race and ethnicity are the same, and she is still in touch of her culture even if she has been raised by an American man. But now she has a more southern accent, coping her dad.

at 14 she became a loving older sister of Catherine Miller was born

tomboy, and is a soccer champion

is the bodyguard of the trio (the one who protects and takes all the countabilty of their actions because she is the oldest)

tries to hold Eli from doing dumbshit most of the time, but at the end joins him

is a scout girl

has lived in the countryside in her first years.

gets herself into dangerous shit because her little ADHD brain tells her to do them

Azedi is neighboors with Quiet, that is Eli's cousin bcs in this AU she was adopted by Venom (don't ask why), and they are besties even if Az is 14 years younger than Quiet.

Tretij Rebenok (12 y/o)

lives in a foster-care home

autistic and has been nonverbal since 7th grade

knows that he is slavic, doesn't know much else of his past

trans boy, but only his friends know about it (even though, since he didn't talk, they only ever adressed him with "It")

he is the racoon of the trio (lives in a trash can and bites)

scares a lot of people just by the way he looks and is banned from most public spaces

instigates Eli into doing dumb shit

deadname is unknown. Before he asked them to call him Tretij they just called him "the other one" or "third friend"

literally eats bugs

in his foster home he is a neglected a bit, so he may often look messy and he may stink

he has a burnt scar on half of his face (I had to make up for the canon scars)

evilest fucking kid ever

just hangs in the background most of the time thankfully though

Some other fun facts about the trio in the au

Azedi and Eli have known each other since they were born, since their dads are buddies. they met Tretij when they entered primary school and became the neighborhood's terrors ever since

they raid Ocelot's house every once in a while

Eli and Azedi used to communicate with Tretij with mostly sign leanguege, that they learned with Quiet (since she is also autistic and nonverbal in this AU), when he was nonverbal, even though they also didn't really need to sign anything with Tretij bcs he understood them even without gestures (since they are that close with each other :3)

Eli and Azedi had started dating at the end of Eli's 7th grade, but the only thing that they do different from what they do with Tretij is giving each other little kisses and calling each other petnames

also Miller despises Eli, but this is in all universes

they all have matching bracelets made by Az

[sidsthekid]

15 people 15 questions

thanks for the tag bud @crosbyism!!

1. are you named after anyone?

yeah but i don't like it. the plan is to change it someday, but there's some things i gotta improve about myself before i can...

2. when was the last time you cried?

a few days ago. i got 2am sad about things i thought i'd gotten over.

3. do you have kids?

no but every now and then the baby fever comes a-knockin...so maybe in the future

4. what sports do you play/ have you played?

sports were life for me!! i did soccer, horseback riding, swimming, volleyball, tennis. i also started to snowboard recently! but if life had worked out the way i wished it did, i would've stuck to horseback and joined a college team. i've loved horses since forever and the comfort they bring is something else.

5. do you use sarcasm?

penis

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

eyes and the way people talk, i.e. the sound of their voice & accent, maybe habits that they have in terms of how often they use a word (uh, like, etc.). but on the other hand, eyes!! very hard for me to resist the pull of a pretty pair.

7. what’s your eye colour?

brown! i used to feel meh about the color but i like them a lot more, now.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings. i saw the babadook once and that shit fucked me up real bad for a long time. i still can't really look into the darkness for too long or i start seeing things.

9. any talents?

music! i take to instruments very quickly and have what you might call perfect pitch (ew). same goes for my athleticism. my hand-eye coordination has always been pretty good and it makes it easy for me to jump back into things even if i've been inactive for some time.

except golf. i've always been ass at golf.

10. where were you born?

i was born in a place that i'll probably never see again! some teeny tiny suburb.

11. what are your hobbies?

i like to collect enamel pins! every where i travel i try to up a few. i also love doing pottery on the wheel, making pots and bowls. making lil animals to sit on my shelves.

i also love to ice skate and listen to music. and finally, i obviously very much enjoy reading fic and chit chatting about it with my buddies on here.

12. do you have any pets?

no but i fostered a cat once. he was my lil nutty angel.

13. how tall are you?

5 FOOT THREE.

14. favourite subject in school?

political theory. my favorite professor in the whole wide world completely redefined what it meant to study the topic and when i think about him and the classmates i had and the conversations and experiences we bonded over for too long, i definitely cry about it haha. man. i miss it.

i also really enjoyed studying american politics, specifically the history of conspiracy. i remember having to read 'the paranoid style in american politics' by richard hofstadter for a class and it was both parts fascinating and terrifying.

15. dream job?

i don't really have one anymore because i think i already got it. but obviously, things can change and knowing me, they definitely will.

tagging the below!! no pressure to do at all of course. it's all in good fun! :):)

@yippayappa@puckingembarrassing @capsvsducks @plethoriall @ellen-shame @robindrake13 @tangerwolls @georgievs @blackholesun @kylesdubas @cascara-soda @ceanspam @phdmama @dragooncroft @annieqattheperipheral

[doctorstethoscope]

Fluffy February Day 28 || Author's Choice

the very last one!! Thank you to everyone who participated in this crazy month <3. This is another one of my favorites of the month, I decided to do a will x mackenzie first kiss since we don't get to see very much of what they were like pre-series.

pairing: will x mack

wordcount: 849

contains: alcohol consumption

“Have a drink with me tonight,” Will’s spunky new Executive Producer, Mackenzie McHale, commanded of him after the Friday night broadcast. 

“I suppose, since the news hour is over and you no longer own me, that I’m able to decline?” He jokes with her, quoting something she’d said about owning him for the hour of their show. 

“I don’t think so,” she corrected him jovially. “I didn’t quite ask, did I?” She smiles. 

“No, you didn’t,” he agrees. “You’re buying.” 

“Perfect,” she says. “Let me just get my coat.” 

The two of them walk down the street to a dive bar, snagging a booth and ordering their drinks. 

“I think we might have a good thing going here, McHale,” Will says, extending his glass to her. It had been just over a month since she’d come on as his EP. Their viewership had shot up, and to Will, it felt like doing something significant again. He’d been in a bit of a slump until she arrived. She pushed him. Hell, she drove him mad sometimes, but he needed it. He liked it. He wanted more of it, even if he knew he shouldn’t. 

“Well, I’d hate for you to overstate it,” Mac teases as she takes a sip of her gin and tonic, and he catches a twinkle in her eye. “As much as I’d love for you to fall over thanking me for making you a star, you are just as responsible for our success, Billy,”  she tells him, batting her eyelashes. 

He’s fairly certain she’s got something of a crush on him, and he’s halfway fucked. He wants her, badly, but he won’t do that to her. He’s got far too much baggage, not to mention the professional field day it would cause for her.  They order another round, chat a bit about the show, and then pay their tab.

“I don’t live far, so I think I’ll walk,” Mackenzie tells him as they exit the bar. 

“I’ll walk you,” Will decides immediately.

“That’s very sweet, but you really don’t have to—”

“It’s exactly as optional as drinks were,” he teases her, gesturing for her to lead the way. They walk in silence for a moment before he decides to broach more personal topics that the two of them hadn’t ever touched before. “So what made you decide to defect against The Crown?” He teases her.

“I’m American, you asshole,” she laughs. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he shrugs, his eyes begging her to elaborate. 

“My father’s a diplomat. I was born here, although we moved to the UK shortly after my mother recovered. Stayed long enough for me to pick up the accent, and then we moved all over. Cambridge probably didn’t help with the accent thing.” 

“Where you went to school?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” she answered with a smile. “What about you?”

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t Google me before you took the job?” He teases her, and she blushes. God, he hopes to make that happen many, many more times.

“Maybe I just want to hear it in your words,” she says. “Maybe… maybe I just like listening to you,” she carries on, slipping her hand in his as they continue to walk. He squeezes her hand in his, then pulls her into an alley. 

“Will, what are you doing?” She asks, confused. 

“We can’t do this,” he says, even as he crowds her into the wall. “I’m your boss, for one.”

“Actually, I’m your boss,” Mackenzie chuckles. “So if I was inappropriate, I apologize.”

“It’s not that,” Will scrubs a hand through his hair. “I want to. You’re fucking electric, Mackenzie.” 

She smiles at that. “What is it, then?” She asks, bringing a hand to his chest, feeling the thrumming of his heartbeat.

“I’m fifteen years older than you,” he reminds her as she leans in closer. 

“I don’t think that’s a good enough reason,” she whispers, her breath hitting the junction of his neck and his collarbone, weakening his resolve exponentially.

“It could end badly. The network would prioritize me over you,” he cautions.

“Will?” She asks, and he looks down at her, sees nothing but desire in her green eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing, and fighting to keep his hands at his sides when he’d much rather have them in her hair or—

“I’m a big girl,” she tells him. “I can take care of myself,” she promises as she pulls herself up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his, winding her arms around his neck and trusting him to catch her as she crashes into him.

He’s good for the catch, placing one hand on her hip and bringing the other to tangle in her hair as she prods her tongue past his lips. They kiss for longer than they should, based on all of Will’s previously stated objections, and he pulls back.

She’s panting, and blushing at him, again. He’s off the deep end, now. She’s got him right in the palm of her hand— halfway fucked is fully in the rearview. 

He leans back in.

tagging: @spacecowboyhotch @honeybrowne @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @infinite-tides @gspenc @anlin2058 @zetasaturno99 @witheldclouds @realdirectionx @sbeno22 @el-vs94 @hausofwhores

[harutostablet]

<<Incoming Call: Kamiyuki>> Haruto sighs and answers it, even though he should probably be asleep. Once accepted, a box pops up revealing an elegant Japanese woman in her early twenties. Her skin is pale and shiny, with the hint of pink, like she just scrubbed her face of heavy make up. The woman was still wiping her face with a towel when Haruto's image pulls up. Like her younger brother, her hair is cut into a short, style that could easily be hidden under a wig. Her matching blue eyes stare at her monitor before relaxing back in her chair. "Oh good, I caught you," she said. "Yo," said Haruto. He was sitting on the roof surrounded by the decorations for the party. He brought his tablet to the roof to listen to music while he wrapped up a few things. "I should be sleeping." "It's fine, you never sleep." Kami said as she reached for something out of his view. A few seconds later he saw a mini cigar. Haruto knew that Kami only did that when she was stressed. In the background he could hear, Kami's assistant puttering about dressing room. Haruto also knew that that if Dad sent Kami to call him it wasn't going to be about something Haru wanted to do. "What's going on?" "You're coming to America." "Why? For what reason? I told Dad--." "Worse than Daddy," said Kami. She's lit her cigar, took a long draw and blew out a ring of smoke. "Uncle Kenji." Haruto frowned. If Dad's agent decreed something there was no getting out of it. "Why?" he grumbled. Kami shrugged. "Promote this movie. Someone's writing an article on Daddy and wants to make sure we're all not strung out on drugs." She waved the cigar as she poke. "Take a few photos....you sing a song...." "No!" Haruto yelled at the screen. Being on the roof by himself his voice vibrated louder than he thought. Kami, completely unfazed by the out burst, took another drag of her cigar. "One song, one club," she pressed. "Just something for Youtube." "Kami-ane, I told them..." The woman on the other side of the screen softened a bit. "My heart, if you haven't realized it already, we are a commodity. You, me, Aoi-ane, even Yuki when he turns twenty. Now, Uncle Kenji finally gets to put into place all the shit they've been grooming us for since we could walk, and for you, that's music." "Tsk" "Tsk, nothing, you're the only one who can can carry a tune." She took another drag from her cigar. "Haru, it will be fine. Aoi-ane is coming too. We'll go to a spa." She appraised him through the screen. "Save you from any more tragic fashion decisions...." Haruto looked down at his clothes. He was actually proud of this outfit. "I was getting ready to go to bed," he says instead. "Oh good, You're still single, right?" "So?" "Maybe, we can find some strange while you two are here?" Kami said easily. "I do not want to go trolling for ass with my sisters," he said. Kami giggled. "How is it going there?" He tried to change the subject. Kami rolled her eyes. "They want me to be authentic," she switched to English. "Whatever the fuck that means?" Kami's accent was flawless, she sounded like a native born American. "I'm not their fucking doll!" she yelled over her shoulder as if someone were listening at the door. This was one of the reasons he loved his older sister. "Fine, whatever, I'll do it." he sighed. "Good," Kami said with a nod. She switched back to Japanese. "I'll have everything set up. Love you Haru." Haruto brought on a smile for his sister. I might as well get in practice, he thought. "I love you too." << End call>>

[artistfingers]

Do Sam and Tucker have their theories on how Danny Phantom passed away? In the undercover au, if so what are they? and how ridiculous do they get after they finally start hanging out with him????

[Undercover AU]

Sam and Tucker’s Theories on how Phantom Passed Away…. Yeah, I’ve got ideas there 👀

Below the cut: ramblings on their theories about Phantom in general, including how he passed away, and if he’s different from other ghosts. One or two spoilers for the comic I’ve got in progress and some I have loosely planned, btw.

Before they met Phantom, Sam and Tucker’s theories were in line with everyone else in town. One leading idea, that could have held a grain of truth, was this: that Phantom was murdered young and came back as a ghost to seek vengence… against the very ghosts that ended his life. Sure, it’s dramatic, but it makes a good story, and it kinda explains why Phantom protects humans. But they’re pretty quick to discard this idea once they befriend Phantom; it’s just not accurate to call him vengeful. But what do they surmise instead?

Well. It starts with little clues that Phantom doesn’t realize he’s giving away.

Early on, they learn Phantom is 15. Was he 15 when he died? Has it been 15 years since he died? Something else? How do ghosts count their age? They don’t really know. Phantom won’t really say.

Then, Phantom mentions he wanted to be an astronaut before he died. And that sends Sam down a rabbit hole to set out a potential time frame for when he lived and died. The Space Age began in 1957, with the launch of the Soviet Union’s Sputnik satellite. And if you account for the fact that Phantom’s an American teenager (assumption: his accent), then a likely candidate for his interest in space was the Moon Landing in 1969. Maybe Phantom lived through it.

Running with that assumption, and if Phantom died at age 15… The earliest he coulda been born was like, 1954, or thereabouts. Of course, he coulda been born any time after that, but it’s a good starting point.

Later they learn from an offhand comment that Phantom likes Nasty Burger. He went all the time before the accid—he used to go a lot, like, every week. Which gives Sam and her little detective notebook another clue: Phantom lived in the region where NB’s popular. I’m picturing Nasty Burger as a regional chain, like how In-N-Out’s mostly a West Coast thing, Nasty Burgers are pretty difficult to find outside the Great Lakes region. So that vastly narrows down for Sam where he lived.

...Honestly, Sam’s got one of those cork boards covered in pins and yarn and newspaper clippings. All Tucker can do about it is stand back and say, “Sam, this is getting a little creepy.”

After all, he’s more content to let Phantom open up when and if he’s ready. But Sam makes it difficult to resist thinking about, and she needs someone else’s perspective to bounce ideas off of.

And it is interesting, especially because Phantom is so close-lipped about his life and death. They have to wonder, is there a reason for that?

They even ask him point-blank: “Do you remember your life?”

And Phantom shifts uncomfortably, looks up at the moon that’s fat and full and bright, and says, “Yeah. A little too well.”

The strained look on his face tells them that they shouldn’t push it any further than that.

They start to research teen deaths that fit the right region and timeframe Sam drew up. Beyond their insatiable curiosity, maybe there’s something nice they can do for him if they can learn a little more. Celebrate his birthday? ...no, that’s in poor taste.

In more than sixty years of obituaries, there’s altogether too many young deaths. They find more Phantom-Likelies than they’d like. They don’t even know how he died, aside from one or two small things. They did learn he died in an accident, though (Sam tosses out all candidates that were murder or natural causes). The bigger clue is that the accident that killed him fucked up his right hand. Like, a lot. It’s pretty nastily scarred in his ghost form.

(As a side note, the scar isn’t visible in his human form, but in both forms he deals with chronic pain in that hand; maybe even a loss of sensation in those fingers. He’s taught himself to write with his left hand by now. Later on when Sam and Tucker meet Fenton, some of their theories about the Phantom-Fenton connection might utilize the fact they’ve both got messed up right hands.)

Even if his death is a touchy subject for Phantom—as with any ghost—I can see him using dark/morbid humor and quips around it. Close call with Technus and electricity? “Wouldn’t be my first rodeo.” or, the three of them giving a burial to a bird that got caught up in the telephone wires? “I know how you feel, little guy.” and so on and so forth. (Sam: I’m sensing a theme here….)

Tucker throws out some pretty ridiculous ideas. “Maybe he worked in a power plant and a hurricane tore through the place and he got buried in wires—” “Tucker, how old do you think you have to be to work in a power plant??” “I was just saying!”

Sam’s theories are a little more grounded (hah), but either way, the two of them agree that Phantom’s death must have been grisly. Not only for Phantom to die so young, but for Phantom to become a ghost at all, let alone such a powerful one.

It’s a pretty well-known fact by now that natural, peaceful deaths don’t generate ghost cores.

...and finally, because we can’t not beat up Danny a little bit, after helping him out in enough conflicts, Tucker and Sam start to notice that Phantom’s injuries are not like other ghosts’. He actually bleeds ectoplasm. Bleeds it like blood. Other ghosts are a bit loosey-goosey with their ectoplasm; it congeals and coagulates quickly, and often can be bent to their will much the way the rest of their body is, at least until the point of destabilization or complete separation from the core.

While Phantom neither destabilizes nor breaks down, his ectoplasm doesn’t coagulate like that. It flows out of him like, not nearly as viscous as it should be. And every time it does, the pain on his face is way too alive for comfort.

So there’s something about Phantom, something that’s different. Sam and Tuck can’t confirm too much, but this is Phantom; this is their friend. And they’re worried about him.

[elmer-kasprzak]

in honor of my post abt not every newsie being a wasp becoming my most popular post, here’s some fun hcs about the newsies nationalities and a sprinkle of religion (not much)

david jacobs - we’ll start with the most popular i suppose. he’s ethnically and religiously jewish, and i’m thinking his family is from a german-speaking country. austria is probably likely (there were a lot of jewish people in austria in the late 1800s), but germany is also a likely option. his parents probably emigrated to america before he can remember, and at the very least les was born in new york. all three siblings can speak german fluently, though they don’t have much of an accent. they were raised in new york.

elmer kasprzak - not to be biased or anything, but i’ve done quite a few thinks about elmer and his family history. he’s from poland, and moved to new york with his mom and dad sometime after his 5th birthday. because he grew up with english as a second language, he most likely had to attempt to learn a “proper” new york accent. he was born in a village close to the german-polish boarder, and so he probably also could speak some german. he could understand more than he could speak.

racetrack higgins - okay this is specifically talking about livesies racetrack (because 92sies racer is so very italian /pos). points. that man is irish, through and through. i want to say first or second generation american, but the idea that he has an irish accent is fucking hilarious so maybe he was born in ireland. either way, he’s catholic. a HUGE majority of irish people who moved to america were catholic, so it would make sense that he was, too.

york - okay, okay. i know he’s not technically a livesies or 92sies newsie, but i think he deserves to be talked about more. originally, this hc was a joke, but then i thought about it and suddenly i decided it was no longer a joke. york is from york. old york. britain. he’s a british little fuck and he has the accent and it’s so good. granted, because he moved to new york when he was 10, it’s a bit faded, but it’s DEFINITELY still noticeable. he’s proud of it, so good for him. actually, he’s probably the most wasp you can get.

graves - okay so this is something i’ve affectionately dubbed the anthony zas effect. basically, any newsie he plays is polish. graves is second generation american, although he doesn’t have much connection to his polish heritage. it’s most prominent in his surname (i hc it to be dudek, but that’s just me), but only spot really knows that. he’s also not one specific denomination of christian, and so he avoids any shit based off of that. he kinda flies under the radar.

buttons - okay i lied about york. this is the most wasp-like newsie. his last name is davenport. do i need to say more? he doesn’t really know much about his heritage. his family has been in america since before the civil war, and so it doesn’t really matter to him where he’s from. (hint: he’s british. that man is just english and it’s really funny).

okay… i’m so very exhausted so this list is short but if you have anyone else you want me to yell about when it comes to nationality hcs, lmk because i absolutely will. i’m vaguely thinking about more poc newsies, but i need to do more research on immigration policies before i do anything for them. until then, enjoy, gay people.

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

Things I Loved About Black Widow (2021).

*Spoilers*

Yes it’s been almost two weeks since release. Yes I’ve seen it almost three times now. Yes, all my thoughts are still a jumble. Somewhat ordering them for this post will be difficult.

Honestly, the entire first 53 minutes of this movie is perfect to me. Everything about it. The dialogue, the action, the way it’s able to convey so much without words, how it’s just Natasha, Yelena and Mason, everything is just *chef’s kiss*. (This isn’t to say the remaining 1hr 21mins is bad, it’s just not as perfect as the first act imo)

I have a thing for scores and god bless Lorne Balfe he really understood the assignment on this one. If you haven’t already, take a few minutes to listen to his composition, specifically ‘Natasha’s Lullaby’. I love when you can hear a story in music and I think this score does that really effectively.

Nat speaking Russian! Nat speaking Russian! The way she reverts back to it in the opening scene when she’s scared! I wish we’d gotten more of it honestly, especially in the family dinner scene, even something as simple as ‘pass the salt’.

Also, her Russian accent in the Budapest flashback! It was quiet but definitely there, and it showed that her American one was something she had to train herself back into once she defected, which I appreciated.

“I stashed that like five years ago” Is this a canon hint that Nat hoards her food? Maybe?! I’ll take what I can get to satisfy my headcanons thanks.

Natasha and Yelena’s fight sequence in the apartment is the best fight scene in the movie. No arguments.

So much of my inner monolgue while watching was just ‘imsogayimsogayimsogay”. That much leather and that many piercings??! The BRAIDS?? This movie is for the wlws.

Mason you absolute icon I love how much you care about Natasha I love that you’re sleeping everywhere because same. (You deserved better than to be a Taskmaster misdirect). Please turn up in more MCU properties as Yelena’s contact or something.

“But you’re not a mouse, Melina. You were just born in a cage, but that’s not your fault.” THIS LINE!!!

AND THIS ONE. “You took my childhood, you took my choices and tried to break me. But you’re never gonna do that to anybody ever again.” The emphasis on choice vs children, how it’s always been about bodily autonomy instead of the romanticised horror of sterilisation that Whedon went with. 

“I never let myself be alone long enough to think about it.” I GASPED.

HONOURABLE MENTION: “You didn’t work in the shadows, you hid in the dark,” (or something). There’s something really satisfying about that line. 

Everything about this film is so inherently female, I love it when things don’t reek of testosterone.

I’ve heard some critics say this movie felt really ‘isolated’ and ‘disconnected’ from the rest of the MCU because of the time jump and how many new characters there were and I have to hard disagree there. The appearance of Secretary Ross, name-dropping Tony Stark, and the continued references to the Avengers were not only realistic but also really cemented this oneshot in-universe for me. 

*cue me flapping my hands and opening another draft because every separate point is eliciting another two paragraphs of analysis that I absolutely cannot include on this post or it will never end*. Man I love this movie. See the read-more because this is getting longgg.

Similarly, how it actually carries through on a lot of previous set up, mostly from Avengers 1, like with ‘Dreykov’s daughter’ and “thank you for your co-operation”. I got very nervous when they announced they were going to tackle Budapest because a) I didn’t think anything they came up with would ever live up to the hype people gave that line so it would only end in disappointment and b) I’ve never particularly cared, to be honest. (it was a throwaway line in Avengers 1 that was repeated for nostalgia in Endgame in a context that now makes no sense, forgive me for being indifferent) but I actually loved how it tied everything together.

The way it reclaims her from every male creator that’s handled her (fuck the Russos and M&M) while simultaneously keeping the best of what they managed to foster (again, Avengers 1 is a heavy influence, and rightly so, but it gives a fat middle finger to AOU, also rightly so).

How competent Nat was shown to be without being unbeatable. She fully got her ass handed to her a couple of times, and yes, it’s very unrealistic that she was able to go through two car accidents, fall off that bridge, out of that window and then out of the sky without being seriously injured, but we finally got to see the physical manifestations of some of that pain! She was holding her ribs when she got out of the water, the bruises on her back, the dislocated shoulder, and the blood splatters were actual splatters when she broke her nose rather than delicate dabs.

This might be an unpopular one, because I know this was what a lot of people were expecting more of, but I was glad Natasha’s youth in the Red Room was confined to the opening credits. The aftermath of that training and Natasha as a product of it has always been more fascinating to me than the actual event.

As an older sister myself, the dynamic between Natasha and Yelena really struck home for me. Yelena’s pride in Nat and need for approval and validation from Natasha in conflict with realising Nat’s flaws, wrestling with her disappointment, seeing how human Nat is, were perfectly portrayed by Florence Pugh. I could completely relate to Nat, who, despite trying to convince herself otherwise, couldn’t fight her fierce protective instinct and specific brand of unconditional love that only an older sister will ever feel. 

A diverse set of Widows!

I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of comics references in this movie. The frame where she jumped through the fire from the Waid/Samnee run, the pheromonal lock.

Now I have my problems with Scarlett Johansson, but I came out of this movie with a lot of respect and a little bit of pride in her. It’s clear that she put her everything into this movie, both as an actor and executive producer. She obviously cares immensely about Nat and how she’s portrayed, and it’s clear from interviews that the things she loves and finds fascinating about Nat are the same as the fans. (I also feel a little bit sorry for the way she’s getting brushed over in the coverage in favour of a new and shiny Florence Pugh, so this is me expressing some ScarJo-as-Natasha appreciation).

A big question I had going in was, ‘Natasha’s always reflecting the people around her, but what’s she like when she’s alone, and has only her own mind for company?’ and this movie really answered that for me. Seeing her out of her suit and wearing clothes that were for her, not for a cover or a mission, seeing her drink beer and eat ice cream and let her hair dry while watching a Bond film she’s obviously seen many times before, it was all perfect. The scenes in the caravan were a huge step for humanising women in action movies. 

I’ll probably be adding to this post a lot because this movie will not leave my mind and new things are occurring to me at the most random points. 

See my ‘Things I...didn’t like as much about Black Widow’ post here.

[wonder-womans-ex]

The High Road

Chapter the First: In Which Logan Enters Into a Non-negotiable Negotiation

There is a man in Logan’s room. 

For a moment, he stands there in the doorway, motionless, because that fact alone is a little difficult to come to terms with. There is a man in Logan’s room. 

He’s not just in the room; he’s sitting cross-legged on the foot of Logan’s bed, picking at a loose thread on one of the blankets. Logan, still stunned, shuts the door behind him, and the man looks up abruptly at the sound.  

He jumps to his feet, bowing and saying “Your Highness,” at the same time as Logan starts to fire questions at him. “How did you get in here?” he demands first, and, without waiting for a response, moves onto “Why are you here? Who are you?”

He doesn’t expect an answer, but he gets one—and what an answer it is.

“My name,” the man says with an air of great importance, “is Leo Knut.” 

There’s a pause. “Never heard of you,” Logan tells him. 

“Good.”

Another pause. Logan takes a step forward, then two, until he’s close enough to get a good look at the intruder. There’s a black bandana covering his mouth and nose, and another pulled over his hair, but a blond curl is still peeking out and falling over his forehead. A slit has been cut into one of his slender, pale eyebrows, and it takes Logan a few seconds to tear his gaze away, but he’s glad once he does. He meets Leo’s eyes, and he’ll be damned if they aren’t the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. 

He could get lost in those eyes—they’re a bright, sunny blue, speckled with glints of sapphire and shimmering aquamarine; they seem to glow in the same way a cloud does when it passes in front of the sun—and, indeed, he does. Reclaiming his senses takes a few moments, but it’s worth it for the energy that passes between them. He and Leo are a current, brighter even than the sun shining outside, and Logan starts to mourn the loss of that current the instant he forces himself to look away.

“You were wondering how I got in here?”

So, sure, it’s not the first time Logan has heard him speak, but it’s almost like it is. Before, he had only been able to hear Leo’s words, not his voice, but now it’s a completely different story. Leo’s accent washes over him, and it takes him a moment to place it—American, he realizes now, which means that the boy standing in front of him has roots buried halfway across the world—but once he has, he’s gone. 

“I—I was, yeah,” he stammers, trying not to blush. Leo scrunches his eyebrows up, and then he turns and steps back to sit once more on the bed. One hand, fitted snugly into a fingerless black glove, pats the space next to him, and Logan sits, trying not to show how flustered he truly is. The wool blanket is rough against his palms, so he folds them into his lap. He imagines he must look like an idiot—a stuck-up idiot, for that matter��or some sort of damsel in distress, but it’s worth it if he gets to be just that much closer to Leo. 

“Well,” begins Leo, earnestly meeting Logan’s eyes once more, “first I had to distract the guards. They’re good at their jobs, you know, especially the one by the west gate…”

The apparent problem with Leo, Logan reasons, is that there’s just so much of him. Not physically, no—in fact, he’s on the slighter side, muscular but with the leanness of someone who knows what it’s like to go for days at a time without proper food—but he’s overflowing with personality. Passionate is not a word Logan uses often, but it truly is the only word that comes to mind when he thinks about Leo Knut. 

Well, not the only word. There are a few others, too, on the tip of his tongue: beautiful; vibrant; charming; the only thing ever envied by the sun itself, but passionate is the one that gives him the least pause; it’s the one that needs no modification or analysis. Leo is passion. Passion is Leo. To Logan, at least, it makes sense in a way very little ever has before. It can’t have been even a quarter hour since Leo entered his life, but already Logan knows he’ll never recover. 

Leo’s voice is like honey. It’s like melted butter in a frying pan. It’s like dipping his toes into cold, clear water on a hot summer’s day. It’s like waking up in the morning to sunshine streaming through the gap in his curtains. It’s like laughing and crying all at once. Logan’s strong suit may not be description, but there is no world in which he could not write poetry about Leo Knut’s voice. 

Logan has always fallen in love fast, and this is no exception. 

“...that’s the brilliant part, see? The others think they’ve seen an intruder, so they shoot, and the one at the west gate runs off to see what all the commotion is. Now I’m free to get past his post, and—Logan? Are you listening?”

Logan starts. “How do you know my name?” he asks, somewhat stupidly. 

“I don’t think there’s anyone from here to Prussia who doesn’t know your name, Lo.”

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Logan’s heart really does not melt inside at ‘Lo.’ Plenty of people call him that—his sisters do; most of his friends do; heck, even a few of the servants he’s known for a while. 

But Leo is not plenty of people. 

“Oh,” says Logan, “right.”

“‘Oh,’ he says, like he isn’t the heir to the fucking throne of France—”

“Shut up, Leo!” Logan protests playfully. At least, he tries to pass it off as playful—he’d be lying if he tried to tell himself he isn’t flirting. After all, there’s something truly intimate about using someone’s name in conversation when alone. 

It rolls off his tongue right, too—out loud, it sounds like some sort of tree spirit, or a star in the night sky. For a moment, he even entertains the thought that perhaps Leo is a prince, too; he knows what it’s like to be royalty and can therefore understand Logan’s life in a way so few people can. But just as quickly, he lets himself acknowledge that Leo is no prince. 

For Leo’s hands, when Logan reaches out towards them and takes them in his own, are rough and calloused. These are the hands of a woodworker, or of a hunter. They are not at all like Logan’s own soft, pale, occasionally-inkstained ones, and this alone is proof that he and Leo are and always will be worlds apart. 

He knows why it matters to him, but he also knows why it shouldn’t—after all, there is no world in which he and Leo would ever be able to love each other, anyway. Not when the law and the people and everything else Logan was born to uphold are against it. 

Leo smiles—or, at least, his eyes squint in the telltale way that means he’s smiling—but, even from what little Logan can see of his face, there’s something off about it. It’s halfway between awkwardness and confusion, and Logan isn’t sure there’s a word for exactly what it conveys. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t protest or resist when Leo gently pulls his hands out of Logan’s grasp—or maybe there’s another reason, too. 

“You didn’t answer my other question,” he points out, simply to continue the conversation. He’s not entirely sure what he’d do if he doesn’t hear Leo’s voice again right now, and he doesn’t think he really wants to. “What are you doing here?” 

Leo nods thoughtfully, eyes seeming to darken. His entire personality shifts. He no longer has happiness radiating from every inch of him; he no longer seems to emit warmth like he’s a fire. He becomes cooler and more poised and almost more vicious, but in a way that is, paradoxically, anything but angry. He’s still smiling, though, and Logan has no idea what to think of that. “I’m here to kidnap you.”

It takes Logan a second to register this. Once he does, however, his hands clench into fists and he’s immediately on the defensive. “What?” he asks, but it’s clear this is a how dare you ‘what’ and not a please repeat yourself; I think I misheard ‘what.’ “You—that’s illegal! You can’t just tell the prince of France you’re planning to kidnap him and expect him to let you get away with it!” 

He’s blustering, and he knows it. “I could get you arrested, you know. Every guard on this floor will come running if I just so much as scream!”

It happens so fast he nearly misses it. One second, they’re sitting next to each other, a good two feet between them, and the next, Logan is flat on his back against the pillows, Leo pinning him down with one knee on either side of his torso and his left hand holding both of Logan’s wrists above his head. The other hand is pressing something sharp and cold into Logan’s neck, and he knows without having to look that it’s some sort of dagger. Leo’s bandana has slipped down, too, and his whole face is visible for the first time. 

“You could,” Leo agrees, grinning to reveal a narrow gap between his front teeth and two perfect dimples, “but you’re not going to.”

.

wonderful characters by @lumosinlove

thanks to @heyitssmiller for beta reading :)

[centuriantalevevo]

A list of my MANY Draco Headcannons

Draco had an older sister who died a few weeks to a month before his first hear

His sister gave her life to save him, had she not done so, he would've been ran over. He watched her die in the hospital, after a few weeks of being in a ventilator (his father making them take her off of it), meaning he can see Thestrals.

He's bisexual and GNC (No! N O T Nonbinary. He's gender nonconforming, meaning he doesn't conform to gender roles), and is supportive of trans people, he has a younger cousin (the youngest of all his cousins) who is Trans (MtF) and woukd protect that girl with his life.

He finds Harry hot, and is jealous of him, but would not date him because he also hates him.

He can speak MULTIPLE languages, and is fluent in Japanese, he can speak conversational Japanese and can translate advanced slang. He can translate MASA songs, that tells you everything.

He has 3 different accents, he was born in Scotland grew up there for a time, then moved to Australia as a child, and then to Britain so he can do a Scottish, Australian and British accent. However, he cannot so an American accent and hates even attempting it.

He has a lot of exotic pets, a lot of tarantulas, snakes, even a few scorpions. He also has a dog, cat and horses. Of course he'd have horses, my mans he is filthy rich.

We're setting my headcannons in modern day setting, meaning like 2000s era, because it makes my life easier. With that said, as much as he makes himself out to hate all things muggle related, secretly he doesn't hate muggle things, he enjoys them but pretends he hates them because his father forces him to. He has a YouTube channel is amazing at using UTAU, Vocaloid, and other VSynths, he also works on his own VSynth and his own UTAU banks, he also is good at MMD.

If anyone dares misgender a trans person especially a trans person that is his family or friend, he will start a war

His mom is supportive of him and is the better parent. Draco favorites his mom over his dad

Megurien Luka is best girl to him and he would absolutely marry her if able to

When in around 3th year, some Icelandic kids asked him to help them start a language club, for those who wanted to learn languages, etc, because he knew the most languages, he agreed.

He's definitely had his fair share of boyfriends

Even though his father doesn't approve, he says fuck it down with approval

He more than likely finds Lil Nas X a little hot, same with CoryxKenshin and MacDoesIt, even if his gay cousin disagrees. I said what I said.

His first crush was a guy, back when he was about 9 to 10. That crush was his best friend as well, and a muggle at that. Unfortunately, the boy (who was also around his age), died of cancer. The boy was technically his first kiss. While in the hospital, the boy wanted to kiss a boy before he died, because that boy DEFINITELY knew he didn't like girls, Draco carried that for him. I made it sad didn't I?

His older sisters name was Alice

His cousins names, Oldest to Youngest, are Dominic, Darla, Demi and Jamie. Dominic is Gay, Darla is a Lesbian, Demi is Ace, and Jamie is a trans girl. Dominic and Darla are twins

Narcissa is SCARY when mad, and Draco is more likely to listen to her over Lucius

Draco loves playing Apex Legends-

He can speak Scots

This mans goes to Japan like every summer, he has some Japanese friends there, and goes to see Magical Mirai and NicoNicoCho Parties-

He likes playing VR Chat and often talks to the Japanese players, but also the French and Spanish players

He's trying to learn Chinese but is very butchered in the language

Since Hermione is a muggle, she definitely plays the game, and Draco has seen her in there over 100 times, and is often times speaking in Japanese when that happens so she never realizes.

He likes to insult her in game in various languages

This bitch made a freaking VTuber model you can't change my mind

He's good at math, and learned from his sisters friend Rowan (MAY OR MAY NOT be a reference to Hogwarts Mystery-)

He's Bipolar, has a hell of a lot of trauma, suffers from depression and has ADHD

He HAS been put in a mental facility quite a few times, and has tried to kill Lucius in his sleep

He has sleep paralysis

He definitely finds Blaise Zabini hot

He is unable to be canceled, he comes back from the grave

He hates Ron because, unlike Draco, Ron actually has siblings still (minus I think.. Fred dying, but Draco couod sympathize with George on that feeling), he's jealous if Ron because he still has his brothers and sister

My mans hates his dad so much holy crap

I plays a LOT of Project Diva and can complete a lot of songs on EXTREME and EXEXTREME mode

Common World Domination- he likes that song

His theme song(s): Rolling Girl, My Immortal, Unhappy Refrain, Unknown Mother Goose, Two-Faced Lovers, The Lost Ones Weeping, Futaride (The Two Of Us), World Is Mine

He loves Weekender Girl, Sadistic.Music♾Factory, and This Is The Happiness and Peace of Mind Committee

He definitely knows all the English Lyrics for This Is The Happiness and Peace of Mind Committee

He really wants to have like a Miku Expo or Magical Mirai esque show in Higwarts with nothing but the banks he has and holograms of them. Please just let him have holograms of the UTAU, VOCALOID, and SynthV Voicebanks he has- let this man's have a concert

Fuck you. Un-Dracos your Draco-

He absolutely goes to Pride and wants Hogwarts to have a Pride Month type of thing

He's a whole Atheist

I may or may not be projecting onto him

He's good at horse back riding

He plays piano

He for a while thought he was trans but just realized he's just GNC lol

We hate JK Rowling in this household

The Draco picture belongs to Anyeka, I just added the Bi pin and the background...

That's my lockscreen btw-

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch1: You Gotta Have A Plan Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Chapter Summary: After returning from Sudan following their arrest, Sam and Ari go their separate ways…but Ari just can’t let things go. He needs a plan to break the refugees he left in the camp out. And he comes up with a plan so ridiculous that it just might work. That is, if he can pull together the right team.

Unfortunately he knows that the 2 people he probably needs and wants there the most, are going to be the toughest to convince. After all, they are siblings…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

A/N: Now, we believe from what research and reviews tell us, that RSDR takes place basically between 1979 and 1982 (the real Operation Brothers upon which it is based upon ran until 1984). To keep this as historically factual as possible, we have done all the research we can find on Mossad, the history of the Jewish people in the 40s through 80s…the rest is purely down to our imagination.

If anything is factually wrong, we mean no offence. Chalk it down to slight creative license and take this for what it is- a work of fiction.

“Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes, that call me on and on across the universe…”  Across the Universe by the Beatles

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 March 1979

Ari Levinson was a man who very rarely liked to sit still. He’d been the same as a boy, always needing to be doing something. And right now, even in a dark, sweaty, smelly cell in Sudan he was no different. Using the bars in the roof that gave them the only light and air into the area, he was doing pull ups, counting his way up to 100. When he finished his reps he dropped down with a sigh and made his way over to sit by Sammy who was leaning against the wall.

Ari glanced over at his friend, his fellow agent who simply looked at him without saying a word, and then looked away, both of them glancing up as Kabede, their in-country contact so to speak, walked over and sat besides Sammy.

“I heard the guards talking.” he said softly in his thick, African accent as Ari sat, his arms hanging over his knees. “They think we are smugglers. We need to get out of here.”

“Mr. Guy Thomas.” one of the guards called. All 3 of them exchanged a look, before Ari stood up and made his way to the cell door.

“You called?” he asked.

“You, and your friends…” the guard said, gun slung over his shoulder “You come with me…”

They did as they were told and were ushered into a small room, where they were unceremoniously handed their gear and told they were free to go. Ari did nothing but smile at Sammy, who rolled his eyes, because it was a knowing joke between everyone who ever ran a mission with Ari that he could fall in pig shit and come out smelling like roses.

Ari fished a packet of cigarettes out of his back pack, along with his shades and slipped them onto his eyes. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out into the sun, lighting his cigarette as he went. He paused for a moment, looking at the man who was leaning against a blue car, watching him. He jerked his head and Ari stepped towards him.  

“And you are?” Ari asked, eyeing him up.

“I'm the reason you're out of there.” The man said, pushing himself off the car. Ari exchanged a look with Sammy as the man continued “Walton Bowen, American.”

“No shit.” Sammy said, his eyes still on the man as Ari shook his hand.

“Yeah?” Walton looked at him before he moved to shake his hand too “Cultural attaché, the embassy in Khartoum.”

“Oh. Well, you must have your hands full, considering the flourishing cultural scene in Sudan.” Ari said, the sarcasm evident in his tone and Walton gave a little laugh.

“Not nearly as flourishing as you with your anthropology studies, I'm sure.” Walton said, his voice level but Ari could detect the note of disbelief he carried. “We got a call from DC, you gents had gotten yourselves into a bit of a pickle.”

As Ari kept his eyes on the man and his face straight, besides him Sammy pointed

“Is that our stuff in the back of your car?”

Ari looked at Sammy then round to the car as Walton nodded.

“Yes, it is.  I'm sorry about the hasty packing…” he said, gesturing to the car “…but I know you have a flight in less than five hours to London.”

Ari snorted, shaking his head a little. Of course we do, damned it Ethan.

“Where are you off to after that, boys?” Walton continued.

Ari didn’t reply, instead he chuckled, and turned from the man, walking over to where Kabede was stood a few feet away.

“Looks like they're calling me back. Are you gonna be okay?” Ari asked

“Yes” Kabede assured him “I will bring more families.”

“We'll find a better way.” Ari nodded, giving the man a friendly embrace, patting him on the back before he turned around and walked back towards Walton and Sammy.

“Hope you got my toothbrush…” he said, not stopping as he passed them both and made his way to the car. “It’s new.”

After a few hours layover in London, they were called to a desk and given tickets for a flight back to Isreal for an hour later.  Ari fell asleep before the taxi down the runway had even finished and awoke a few hours later, stretching and ordering himself a beer. Before much longer the plane began it’s descent into Ben Guiron Airport and Ari let out a sigh. He knew he should be glad to be home, but he wasn’t. He hated leaving a job half done. But he wouldn’t deny he was looking forward to a shower. He felt disgusting, looked disgusting, smelt disgusting. Thank fuck Ethan had the sense to book an entire row out for him and Sammy each.

They cleared customs easily and were met by a driver who waved them over to a car.

“Home?” The man asked Ari as he took his bags from him to take them to the trunk. .

“Office.” Ari corrected, as he wrenched open the passenger door of the car. “You coming?” he asked Sammy as he sat down.

“Nah. Nah, I'm going back home.” Sammy looked at him.

“What?” Ari said, frowning as he got back out, leaning on the roof of the car.

“Back to the clinic.” Sammy said with a small smile.

Ari looked around, before he shut the door and walked over to Sammy, his mouth open in surprise.

What the hell are you talking about?” he asked gently.

“I called Ethan back in London, got a message to Hannah. She’s picking me up.” Sammy said taking a deep breath “I'm done.”

Sammy moved to pull Ari into an embrace, which Ari returned, albeit it a little half- heartedly as he was still reeling from Sammy’s revelation.

“Why?” he asked, patting Sammy on the back.

“I love you, man.” Sammy said, pulling away “You're a lucky guy. But when the luck runs out, then... you gotta have a plan, and you never have one. So... I'm out. “

Sammy looked around.

“You're out?” Ari said flatly, his eyebrows raising.

“I'm out.”

“Sammy.” Ari said gently as Sam turned away. He paused and turned to face Ari again, smiling.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

Sam quickly walked away down towards the pick-up area outside the terminal, as Ari called his name again, a little louder, but he ignored him.

Ari sighed and looked upwards, wiping a hand over his face before he glanced at Sam’s retreating back just in time to see a flurry of dark, wavy hair rushing towards him. Ari continued to observe from a distance as Sammy hugged his sister back, her face pressed into the side of his neck, Sammy gently rubbing at her back. When he finally let her go, Ari finally got a look at her and he had to smile. The last time he had seen Hannah had been almost 3 years ago, at her husband Andy’s funeral and Ari was pleased to see she looked better than she had that day. Her hair was longer, her cheeks were fuller again, no longer hollow with grief. Her skin was darker, more tanned...she looked healthy, back to her vivacious self along with, he hoped, that spark that bounced in her deep blue eyes, Eyes he knew so well.

He had first met Hannah through Sammy when she was 17, and he was 24. He had liked her from the off, despite being 7 years older than her and there’d been a spark, there was no denying that. But for various reasons, despite a 3 month long sort of fling, it hadn’t worked out. He’d backed off, instead admiring her from afar, constantly telling himself he was too old and no good for her, and then he had met Sarah. Their relationship at first had been based on total, physical attraction and had been a total whirlwind. They had married later that same year after discovering Sarah was pregnant, Ari wanting to do the right thing by her. Their daughter Maya was born 7 months later and for the first 4 years, he had to admit he’d been happy.

Meanwhile, Hannah had started dating another one of their agents and friends, Andy Horowitz. They’d married too and then sadly mere months after they had married Andy had been killed on a mission they’d been running some 3 years ago, a mission Ari had been in charge of.

Hannah said she didn’t blame Ari, but he’d seen it written on every inch of her pretty face. She’d hardly been able to look him in the eyes since Andy’s death, and as a result he had made no effort to reach out in the 3 years since Andy’s funeral. Which he knew was a selfish, shitty thing to do on his behalf, as they’d all been so close, family close even, but Hannah had always worn her heart on her sleeve and he couldn’t face the turmoil and heartbreak she was emanating.

Sammy assured him she didn’t hold him at fault, not really and that she was just upset, compounded  by the fact she hadn’t been there and was only hearing everything 2nd hand. But still, it did nothing to assuage Ari’s guilt. Andy’s life cut so tragically short, and Hannah left widowed at such a young age…

The driver’s voice shook Ari out of his thoughts, and when his eyes focussed again he realised he was staring at nothing. Hannah and Sammy both long gone. With a nod to the man he climbed back in the car and they set off for HQ.

**** "You're pissed." Sammy told his sister, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Hanna didn't answer. She stared at the license plate of the car right before them as if it was the magic combination to some sort of treasure chest. She was avoiding looking at her brother. Of course she was pissed, that was out of the question, but she didn't want to discuss that in the middle of the early evening exasperating traffic. Why was the way out of the airport always so crammed with cars?

Sammy turned to look at her and read the signs like an open book. White knuckles from the intensity with which her hands where holding the steering wheel, furrowed brow and a twitch of the mouth where she was biting the inside of her right cheek. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You are pissed. I can tell, Hannah."

"No, I'm not" she replied trying to sound as convincing as possible and hit the car horn three times. "Oh, come on! We all have places to be!"

"Yes, you are. And honking the horn while in a traffic jam won't get you anywhere quicker, you know that?" Sammy said raising an eyebrow at her sudden outburst.

"No, it won't. But it will keep me from slapping you across your stupid face." she bit back, admitting her irritation.

"Ok." Sammy said preparing for what was about to come slouched on the passenger seat "What's on your mind?"

"Damnit, Sammy. You know full well what's on my mind. You know perfectly fucking well." she hissed without even bothering to look at him.

He sighed and nodded as an only answer. Avoiding his sister's gaze, he turned and looked through the passenger window.

"Yet, there you go again." she resumed after a minute, once she had steadied her voice and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Getting yourself arrested. You could have been killed right there on the spot! I just ...."

"Hey…" Sammy said gently rubbing her thigh "It’s ok. I'm ok, right?"

Hannah nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. There were a few minutes of silence in the car as the traffic resumed and Sammy waited patiently for his sister to get herself together before speaking.

"I spoke to Ethan from London, told him I'm out." Sam said.

"What?" Hannah asked surprised looking at her brother before rapidly turning her eyes to the road ahead.

"That last mission... it was just... I'm done. Can't do it anymore." Sam fumbled with the words while he rubbed the scars on his right hand with his left one.

Hannah looked at her brother again, before she sighed, concern flooding her system.

"What happened Sammy?"  she asked, her tone soft “It must be something bad to make you want to leave it all behind.”

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. It's just… I'm tired of all that shit and need to get out, that's all." Sam replied trying to convince his sister and, most importantly himself, it was the right decision. 

The sight of that woman letting herself drown in the river had taken a toll on him. It haunted him at night and whenever he closed his eyes. He could have done more, he should have saved her, he should have found her under that muddy water and swum with her to safety. But he hadn't been able to and he didn't want to go into another mission where he would lose lives instead of saving them. 

"So, what's the plan?" Hannah asked a moment later trying to snap her brother out from the place he seemed to be lost in.

"The plan is getting home, have a shower, eat something decent and sleep till the new full moon." Sam deadpanned with a faint smile.

"I’d also consider a haircut." Hanna quipped smiling at him. "That mop doesn't suit you, neither does the moustache!"

"Yeah, well. Not much you can do when you're down there and under for six weeks." Sam stated before he smiled at her "You, on the other hand, look great, Han" 

"Well, that's what you get when you shower and wash your clothes. You stink." she said winking at him and he laughed.

"Seriously though, what are you gonna do? “ Hannah asked him after a moments pause “You gotta have a plan."

"That's exactly what I told Ari..." Sammy shrugged and Hannah’s head whipped once more to look at him.

"Ari?" she asked double checking her brother "Was Ari on the mission with you? Actually, don’t bother answering because of course he was..." she trailed off.

"That reckless, lucky son of a bitch who never seems to have a back-up plan." Sam said before lighting a cigarette. “He was there alright.”

"I'd say the man without a plan has some things very well planned." she mused while tapping the steering wheel with her fingers.

"Yeah, well, as I told him I wanna go back to the clinic. If that's ok with you, that is."

"Of course it is Sam. It's our clinic, remember? And we could do with your help, in fact, it would be a blessing. We've been very busy lately." she said excited by the prospect of having her brother with her again. "Mum will be thrilled to hear that.” “How is she?” Sam asked.

“She’s ok.” Hannah said “I’ve been trying to get her to take it easy, consider retiring but…you know what she’s like.” Sammy snorted “Stubborn, opinionated, always thinks she knows best…that’s where you get it from.” Hannah merely raised her eyebrow and smirked a little. “I dare you to tell her that on Sunday…” “Sunday?” “Yeah, she hasn't told you yet but you're coming for lunch." Hannah smirked as Sammy rolled his eyes, smiling fondly “And she won’t take no for an answer.”

***** “Ladies and gentlemen. This afternoon, historic documents concluding the Treaty of Peace between the Arab Republic of Egypt and the State of Israel will be signed…” Ari could hear the reporter on the news growing louder as he strode through the Mossad HQ towards Ethan’s office.

“Is he in?” he asked Ethan’s secretary, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Wait, don't go in there…”

“Thanks.” he said, ignoring her as he pushed the door open, giving a small annoyed huff of a laugh as he tossed his back pack to his left where it landed with a thud. He then made his way over to the decanter of scotch on the shelves to the right of the room, Ethan not even bothering to look at him from where he was leaning against his desk, his own tumbler in hand, watching the TV, dressed in a crisp black suit and white shirt as always, his tie impeccably knotted.

“The Prime Minister is about to sign the most important peace accord in our lifetime and he can't enjoy it because of some remote tribe of our people getting massacred on a continent no one cares about.” Ethan said a little emotively, his British accent crisp as ever as he took a sip of his drink.

“Well, maybe you should let me do my job instead of pulling me out.”  Ari said, picking up his drink and turning towards the couch at the side of the room.

“Your job includes getting arrested?” Ethan asked, as he stood up straight and turned off the TV. Ari sighed as he slumped on the couch, one leg bent with his foot resting on the low coffee table in front of him “Or is this just another by-product of you being reckless and totally out of control?” he looked at Ari for the first time  since he had walked into the room.

“Sudan. My god, Ari…” Ethan snorted angrily, picking up his decanter to top up the glass. “An enemy country in a perpetual state of... fucked-up-ness. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that hiding refugees in a refugee camp was a pretty brilliant idea.” Ari said simply with no trace of irony, as he scratched at an itch on his side before necked his liquor.

“And how do you propose to get them out of there?” Ethan looked at him.

Ari sighed and placed the empty glass on the side next to the phone “Still working on that.”

“This job pays in migraines.” Ethan shook his head as he crossed the room and topped up Ari’s glass. “You look like shit.” he said, pointing to him with the hand that held the decanter which he placed on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” Ari replied “Smell like shit, too. I was under for six weeks.” he reached for the now once again full glass as Ethan sat on a chair opposite him.

“How's Sarah?” Ethan asked.

Ari looked down, his finger tapping on the rim of the glass before he placed it back on the side and slumped down on the sofa again, his eyes focussing downwards on his thigh as it bent upwards in front of him, his hand hooking underneath it.

“She left me.”

“Your life's a mess.” Ethan stated and Ari simply raised his eyebrows in agreement “Well, maybe this is a blessing in disguise, then.”

“What is?” Ari asked, as Ethan took a drink. “Are you taking me off this?”

“Exfil is going to come up with some alternative plans for the Ethiopians.” Ethan said as Ari tipped is head back with a frustrated sigh, his hands flying out to his side. “Then we'll discuss with the boss how best to move forward.”

“Ethan, don't do that.” Ari pleaded sitting forward “You know those guys are morons, they're gonna waste months on plans that aren't viable.  Months that we don't have. You gotta send me back.”  

“Go home, take a shower, spend some time with the family.”

“Ah Fuck!” Ari sighed, before his voice grew louder and he crossed his arms, taking on the tone and appearance of a sullen child “No.”

“No?” Ethan looked at him “It's done, Ari. You're not going anywhere.”

And that was that. Ethan wasn’t for turning. In the end Ari had stormed out of the office, his mood darkening by the second, and it didn’t get any better when he arrived home to find the place dark, empty and a message from Sarah on the answer phone telling him she’d taken Maya to her parents place.

Her parent’s place in fucking New Jersey

“Spend some time with the family…” Ethan’s words rang around his head as he slumped on the bed, beer in hand looking at the now empty side of the closet that had contained most of Sarah’s clothes.

Yeah, chance would be a fine thing.

**** Ari spent the following days on a semi-comatose state. He kept strict grooming and feeding habits, which was something he quite enjoyed after six weeks of not being able to give much thought to it.  He also took care of the chores now that it was only him at the house and set up a work-out routine to keep his one-track mind occupied and allow himself to physically blow off some steam. 

He was frustrated to say the least. Frustrated at being pulled out by Ethan, who wasn't even willing to reconsider his reinstatement for the time being. And frustrated on how, and it ached to admit, he missed his daughter. He had seen Maya last before leaving for Ethiopia and he had told her, and so had he thought at the time, he would come back home and spend all the time possible with her. But she wasn't there when he came back. 

Surprisingly enough, he didn't miss Sarah or, at least, not in the way he should. He did miss spending time with his family or the feeling of having a family to get back to and Sarah was part of that family. And, to tell the truth, he had never been home in this house alone. And, though he was beginning to come to terms with the fact this was his life going forward, he wasn't sure if he liked it. But, on the other hand he was also relieved. Sarah and he had been strained and fighting for so long before he left for the mission that her leaving had almost been a relief.  And, in a sense, he was glad she had done it before he was the one who had to suggest that maybe they needed to concede things weren't working between them because, frankly, Ari Levinson was a chicken shit when it came to stuff like that

But what Ari wasn't was cut out for the mundane, office life. A couple of weeks later his mind was in a state of turmoil. He took a trip out to New Jersey for a few weeks under Ethan’s instructions where he spent some quality time with Maya and had a very frank discussion with Sarah. The papers she had left him to sign upon his return from Ethiopia were legal documents which would enter them both into a legal period of 2 years separation and upon the conclusion therefore a Divorce would be mutually agreed. There was no way back for the pair of them, and he was relieved that she felt the same way and signed the papers in presence of an attorney who assured him this was the easiest, least messy way to go about things. Sarah had also agreed to return to Tel Aviv at some point as she conceded that keeping Maya at the other side of the ocean wasn’t fair to him or her. But when that would be, she never said.

All in all he wasn’t feeling great when he returned to HQ at the end of April especially when he was told that Exfil had yet to come up with any decent sort of plan. He told Ethan, once again, that they were fucking morons but was told to steer well clear. But Ari had never been one to stay out of things, or pay any attention to his boss when he thought he knew better. Day and night the idea of getting the refugees out of that Sudanese refugee camp was still haunting him. He had to come up with something and it had to be as soon as possible, before those Exfil idiots fucked it up completely. So after weighing up the situation for week or so more, he decided to get on with it off radar. He knew the best way to get Ethan to hear him out would be coming up with a fool-proof plan-something so absurd, far-fetched if you will, that no one would suspect they were smuggling Jewish refugees out of Ethiopia. 

So he did it by stealth, getting on with his normal duties of paper work and communicating with other Intelligence Operatives across the globe playing the co-ordination role Ethan had dumped him in and putting the final touches on the last mission reports he had been doing at Mossad Head Quarters. His day job so to speak.

The night times, however, well, they were his own. And he used them to do a bit of research of his own. 

He tried not to be spotted when he went to the archives department and asked the assistant there for a specific microfilm. Last thing he wanted was Ethan or one of his subordinates sniffing he was up to something. At least not before he could flesh his plan out in order to give a proper presentation to Ethan.

And finally, after an arduous period of research and countless sleepless nights it came to him, one warm night at the end of June. He was examining one map of the area on the computer when he noticed the sea. They could do it, the answer had to be in the sea. Ari felt a sudden surge of optimism and started digging into the different possibilities for a way out through sea instead of land and a feasible cover. His smile reached his eyes when he spotted just what he was looking for and a hunch told him to go for it. 

It took a few days for him to pull everything together and get what he needed, and contact the people he needed. Which was why, early one July morning he was pacing the Comms room, rubbing his beard nervously, ironically dressed in the same clothes he had been in a few days prior when the idea had originally occurred to him. It was funny now, how he didn’t have Sarah pecking his head about his outfits he simply donned his preferred casual clothing to the office, something his single friends at work seemed to do a hell of a lot. Speaking of which, he was feeling stressed out after a heated argument with his estranged wife over the phone earlier that day about him seeing Maya. She had kept her side of the bargain, returning to Tel Aviv, but as a result he’d moved out of the house, renting a two bed apartment not too far from what had been their family home. He’d had regular access and visits to his daughter, which had been fantastic, but tonight he’d been due to take Maya out for dinner. However, Sarah had changed her mind at the last minute, something to do with her work shifts and it being a school night. When he had pointed out that she didn’t give a shit about her school when she took her over to New Jersey for the best part of a month she’d simply called him an asshole and put the phone down. Unable to concentrate on anything he’d gone for a run and returned to the office when it was dark and most of the people had gone, to find there was still no communication waiting for him, to let him know if his plan was going to work.

And then, finally the fax from the Sudanese Tourist Board arrived and he knew he had a great plan. Now, he had to sell it to Ethan and it couldn't wait, despite the ungodly hour…

“Ethan! I have an idea.” Ari said as he climbed the stairs to Ethan’s apartment, backpack over his shoulder, his arms laden with rolled up maps and papers.

“It’s four o'clock in the morning.” Ethan said exasperatedly.

“It's a really good idea.” Ari assured him as he continued up the stairs. Ethan simply stood back as he entered his apartment “Do you always sleep in a silk robe?” Ari asked, turning to look at him before he headed into the living room. Ethan paused for a moment before he followed him in, shutting the door behind him.

Ethan listened patiently as he explained his plan, and for the most part simply nodded. When Ari finished, Ethan leaned back and smiled softly at him, his fingers drumming on the map Ari had spread over the table.

“You know what Ari…” Ethan said, a smile on his face “This is so ludicrous…it might just work…but you’ll need a good team.”

Ari smirked and handed Ethan another piece of paper, watching as his boss scanned down the names of the Agents and former Agents he had identified.

“This…” Ethan looked at him, shaking his head “This is not a team, it’s a recipe for disaster!”

“They’re the best of the best…” Ari shrugged.

"But the Navons?” Ethan looked at Ari, shaking his head in disbelief “You mean you want both of them? Seriously after everything that’s-?”

"Oh, no, my bad…” Ari said, cutting him off and reaching over and scribbling something on the paper as Ethan let out a sigh of relief before he looked up, his eyes twinkling as Ethan let out a groan as he spotted the correction Ari had made to the name. “She’s a Horowitz now..."

**** It took them a week to get all the details fleshed out to a point where Ethan was happy to take it to his superiors. Ari would have done it that same morning he had gone knocking on Ethan’s door but his boss had insisted on details and plans…something Ari wasn’t all that bothered by, preferring to work in the spur of the moment. Still, Ethan had insisted that he wouldn’t be able to sell the idea without answering questions, and had lectured him in great detail on the 5Ps, or 6 Ps in this case…

Proper preparation prevents piss poor performance…

He had to admit, however, Ethan had been right. As he began to spell out his ideas and plans to Isaacs, the Mossad Chief, he found himself being able to speak confidently, not just because he had conviction in his idea, but because he never once found himself lacking the ability to explain.

“The majority are coming in from Gondar and Tigray right there…” Ari said, leaning over from his chair to point at the map which was spread out on the desk. “But we can't land our planes anywhere near there.”

“Why?” Isaacs asked, looking at Ari from where he sat in his chair.

“Derg brought in the Russians and Cubans. It's limiting everyone's mobility. The chance of landing a plane without being noticed is non-existent.” Ari explained “The only way to get a substantial number out is by sea.”

“Ethiopia's practically landlocked.” Isaacs said, leaning forward and gesturing at the map.

Ari nodded in agreement, his hand rubbing at his beard before he looked at Ethan who was sat next to him in the other chair. Ethan inclined his eyes at Isaacs, instructing Ari to continue, so he did.

“But Sudan isn't.”

Isaacs paused from looking at the map and then glanced at Ari to Ethan and then back again.

“Seriously?”

Ari nodded.

Isaacs leaned back. “Something tells me this is going to take a bit longer than a few hours to explain…”

Ethan smiled a little and nodded “You could say that, yes.” “Ok…” Isaacs sighed, reaching for his phone “Let me make a few calls. I need to get my advisors down here…and food.” So that’s what he did. Ari found himself repeating various points again and again to different people as they headed in with various files, paper, pens…and he was getting a little frustrated as the night started to draw in. But he kept calm, taking his lead from Ethan who jumped in whenever he could sense Ari was starting to lose his cool a little, and Ari was thankful for the fact his boss was there.

“How long does it take to get from Sudan to Sinai by boat?” Isaacs asked.

“It takes three days.” Ethan began “You can…” “Just a-- Hold on a sec.” Isaacs said as Ari dropped his hands to his hips, leaning back against the large cupboard he was stood in front of. “Even if this could work, you'd need a team of agents on the ground. A team with international background.” Ethan and Ari exchanged a look, and both nodded at Isaacs as he continued “How are you gonna keep our agents that long inside an enemy state?”

“This is where it gets really good.” Ethan said, nodding at Ari who pulled an aerial shot out of the pack of files he had brought with him. Ari handed it to Isaacs.

“Red Sea Diving Resort. It's a hotel built by an Italian company in the early '70s.” Ari explained as he walked back to his leaning post, arms folded. “Fifty kilometres north of Port Sudan. The Italian company abandoned it five years ago.  Now the Sudanese government is looking to lease it, to boost tourism.”

The room fell silent as Isaacs looked at the photo, his expression perplexed which then morphed into surprise. He looked at Ari, how shifted a little uncomfortably, waiting for him to comment on the idea. Instead Isaacs stood up, and moved to his phone.

“Ask the Defence Minister if he can join us.” he said simply, and Ethan glanced at Ari, giving him a smile.

About twenty minutes later, the Defence Minister a Mr Henry Weiss joined them and listened carefully to what they had to say, Ari explaining once again what the outline of his plan was. It took him another hour, and it felt like he had been explaining this all day. Which, in reality, he had.

“Let me get this straight.” Weiss said, sitting on the edge of the desk as Isaacs sat in the chair behind hit, both hands behind his head as he was flanked by various other people from his agency, all of them watching Ari who was sat perched on another unit to Weiss’ right “You want Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service, to purchase an abandoned hotel from the Sudanese government.”

“Lease, but yeah.” Ari said, nodding, his hand curling around his chin and mouth in an L-shape.

“Abandoned because?”

“Because the area where it's located is lawless. It's controlled by the Hadandawa.” Ari said, and for the first time he started to feel a little less confident.

“By the who?” Weiss looked at him

“It's a Bedouin tribe.” Ari supplied.

“Translates, The Lion Clan” Tellem, one of the military agents stood around the room supplied “Known for cannibalizing their enemies.”

“No…” Ari quickly began to protest as Isaacs glanced at the military agent who had spoken. “That's...” he took a pause and looked at Ethan who shifted and stared at Ari. And Ari knew why, because he hadn’t told any of this to Ethan. “ No, that's... not anymore.” Ari folded his arms in front of him. “Now it's... human trafficking. -Girls to Jedda, that sort of thing—“

“This... just gets better and better.” Ethan looked at Ari.

“So, your idea, just to reiterate…” Weiss drew the attention back to him “Is to send a group of Jews to a Muslim country, to a place where they might get eaten by Bedouins, to run a fake hotel, in order to rescue a group of black Jews who might or might not survive a 1,000-kilometer walk across the desert, to be smuggled out to sea by Israeli Navy Seals to an Israeli ship.”

“Disguised as a petroleum service vessel, yeah.” Ari said, smiling slightly.  

“That's ridiculous.” Tellem said with a sigh.

There was silence around the room. Ari looked up, and could take no read on anyone’s body language. He locked eyes with Ethan who gave him a sympathetic look and he let out a breath shaking his head.

Back to the drawing board.

“Is NATCOR still operational?” Weiss asked suddenly as Ari stood up.

“Yep” Isaacs replied, his eyes on Ari.

“What's NATCOR?” Ari frowned, hands on his hips.

“It's a shore company in Switzerland we use for large transactions.” Isaacs said simply

“How large?” Ari asked, not sure what this had to do with anything.

“Like leasing a hotel.” Isaacs said.

Well, shit!

With a small smile, one that was more from shock than victory he looked at Ethan who eyed him appraisingly.

“How long do you need?” Weiss asked and looked at Isaacs.

“I can pull the strings in NATCOR in a week or so but I need to know how much we need and when for.” Isaacs said, and once again all attention turned to Ari and Ethan.

“We’ll need a couple of months to pull the team together, get everything organised…leasing agreements that sort of thing…” Ethan said, looking at Ari

“Give me 3 months.” Ari nodded in agreement. “Maximum.”

*****

It turns out that the Sudanese Tourism Board play hard ball. 6 weeks it took. 6 fucking weeks to negotiate a price and a timescale. Originally they’d been willing to lease the Diving Resort from the middle of March until, after agreement of a slightly higher price, they had brought the date forward to January. That was still too far away for Ari’s liking, but as Ethan had reminded him if they missed even one cross on a t or a dot on an I, they were done for.

Finally, at the end of August, they had ironed out every crease they could see, and the confirmation that they had been accepted to hire the abandoned resort came through. A week later, at the start of September, Ari left Tel-Aviv again to start his recruiting spree. First stop, a Pan Am plane with destination Belize. 

He was having a coffee and tapping some stray sugar grains on the table surface with his index finger's pad absent-mindedly when his plane was called. His mind went to Maya as he waited in line, boarding pass in hand. He’d spent a lot of time with her over the last week, deliberately, and he knew she understood why he didn’t live with them anymore, but she hadn’t understood why he was going to be going away again. And then, on the last day before he left she had been especially quiet and brooding. Ari had tried to make small conversation with her but had failed and had opted to explain to his daughter why he had to go, as best as he could. She still hadn't reacted as Ari expected and he had to admit defeat. The final blow had come when he had asked Maya about the drawing he was holding of her family, a drawing he was absent from, and she had told her father he wasn't in the picture because he was at work. He hadn’t mentioned it to Sarah, it simply wasn’t worth the hassle.

"You've got to be kidding me" Rachel Reiter said to Ari with a chuckle as she stopped at the end of his row, trolley before her "What are you doing on this flight?" she added impersonating the perfect flight attendant.

"I'd like some tomato juice, please." Ari ordered with a smile.

She served him his tomato juice and sat on the free seat next to him. Ari explained to her he had pulled some strings to find out which flight she would be working. Not that Rachel needed to know. She was perfectly aware of what Ari was capable of and how Mossad worked. Thus, she explained the mission she was on, having scanned the briefcase of a passenger, a PLO accountant. 

Ari spent the following five minutes explaining briefly what the mission he was attempting to recruit her for consisted of.

"Ex is in stable asshole condition. Kids are perfect." Rachel told Ari when he asked about her family.

"And you're ok leaving them for an unknown amount of time?" he asked waiting for the confirmation she was in.

"If we don't do something no one will" was what Ari replied Rachel after she asked him to give her a good enough reason to enrol. And that was more than enough, as she smiled and nodded imperceptibly.

"Tell me one last thing." Rachel said standing up and brushing her skirt. "Who's in Belize?"

"Excuse me?" Ari asked with a poker face.

"I know you Ari. I've been running small missions on flights for the past 5 months, they must have told you. And yet you have chosen exactly this one to come talk to me?" she said whispering as she leaned to grab the tray where the now empty glass of tomato juice lay.

"Wait and see Rachel." he said with a broad smile. "I'll be in touch soon."

*******

It was hot, very hot when, a day later Ari sat at a table in a beach bar in Half Moon Caye waiting for Jake to finish his private lesson. Not exactly a diving one.

"What brings the great Ari Levinson all the way to Belize?" Jake Wolf greeted Ari from the door of the decompression tank, wearing nothing more than a dazzling smile.

"I have a unique mission to offer you." Ari told him "But I'm not gonna offer you anything until you cover yourself up" he joked watching as Jake approached him, arms open to give him a hug.

Jake ignored his friend’s request and after brazenly taking a cigarette out of Ari's packet sat on the chair facing him. Ari explained to Jake that he needed someone with expertise and diving skills for a mission related to what in Jake's words was a bloody genocide no one gives a shit about because it's in Africa.

So when Ari told him that his Prime Minister had decided to give a shit, he was convinced he had gained Jake's adventurous spirit and he would be on board. 

An hour and some beers later, Ari had explained to Jake the mission in detail and they both had caught up on their lives.

"Be ready to be called in in about a month give or take." Ari told Jake who nodded. 

"Why don't you stay a couple of days? Look around you. This is paradise, my friend." Jake said a big grin and open arms pointing at the white sand beach and tropical palm trees.

"I have a flight tomorrow morning." Ari had to refuse his friend’s offer, implying he had still places to be and people to recruit.

"Where to?" Jake asked knowingly.

"Amsterdam." Ari answered before puffing his cigarette. “At least that’s where my next victim was last time I checked…”

Jake just nodded, a faint glimmer of a smile showing, before saying "Then, the night is young. Let's make the most of it before you leave."

******

"You fucked up my lunch, man" Max Rose told Ari after lowering the gun he was pointing at his former mentor.

A mixture of relief and annoyance crossed Max’s face as he waited for Ari to give an explanation as to why was he sat in his arm chair, in the middle of his rented flat in Amsterdam, reading the fucking newspaper with a stupid grin on his stupid face.

"I have a mission for you." Ari said.

"Of course, you have" Max scoffed before hugging him. "But you're buying me lunch if you want me to listen to you."

And that's what they did. Ari knew if you had to win Max over, it had to be around food. After explaining the mission and what Max’s role would be, Ari had one last question and he had deliberately saved it for last when he knew Max would already be on board.

"Max, I need to know you're fine with all this because I need you to be focused. Are you ready to go back down there after Andy?"

"Absolutely." Max said without hesitating. But Ari could see a glint of sadness in his eyes.

"Good." Ari said sympathetically "Then I guess I'll contact you in a month or so." Ari added before he raised his glass to toast for the mission.

***** 4 days later, just over a week after leaving, Ari was back in Tel-Aviv, having saved the discussion he knew was going to be the hardest until last.

He sat in the waiting room of the Ethan Navon Memorial Clinic, a place in which he hadn’t been for easily over 5 years, and was eventually ushered into the Examination Room where the nurse popped a thermometer under his tongue as he sat on the trolley, waiting.

“How can I help you Mr…Aw, fuck me!” Sammy groaned as he looked at Ari who gave him a cheeky smile “What the fuck?  What the fuck are you doing here?” he turned to his nurse “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Hey, hey, just... Calm down.” Ari said gently, “I need to talk to you. Five minutes.”

Sammy tossed his file and glasses down on to the small equipment trolley and said something to his Nurse. She nodded, making a hasty exit and as Sammy went to close the door it stopped before he could shut it fully and swung fully open again, Hannah stepping into the room, frowning at her brother.

“Sammy? What's going on? I can hear you shouting all the way over in the other room? What’s the…” she trailed off as Sammy nodded towards Ari, her mouth falling open when she saw him “Fuck me…”

"Hey Hannah, how you doing?” Ari gave her a small smile. “You look great by the way."

And he meant it. Her hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck and she was dressed in a simple pencil skirt and blouse, her white doctors coat open.

"What do you want Ari?" she asked softly.

“It's a nice clinic you got.” Ari said, taking the thermometer out of his mouth, ”Save a lot of lives here?

“No. But we don't take any lives either.” Hannah shrugged as Ari took a deep breath, steeping his hands together.

“I know how to get 'em out, Sammy.”

Sam scoffed

“I got a plan.  And it's good.” Ari was almost whispering with excitement as he stood up off the bed.

“Yeah, that's...” Sam looked at his sister, laughing sarcastically “That's what you always say, until everything goes to shit.”

“Right, just hear me out. You don't like what I gotta say, I'm going.”  Hannah and Sammy both exchanged a look as Ari began to pull the documents and details out of his rucksack, standing on the other side of the examination bench.

“Ari…” Hannah began as she stepped forwards, but Sam gently touched her arm and he moved towards Ari, shaking his head.

“Ari, Ari…no…”

“What? You don't wanna hear the plan?”  Ari asked gently.

“Stop.” Sam instructed him.

“You don't wanna hear it? You'd rather be here than in the field?” Ari asked, disbelief in his tone as his voice grew louder.

“Shh!” Hannah instructed the pair of them as Sammy began packing the stuff back into Ari’s backpack for him.

“Why?” Ari pressed “You're the best field doctor I know.”

“I used to be.” Sam said gently “Back when I had two good hands.”  

“Hey, both hands tied behind your back, you're still the best.” Ari said honestly. Sam paused and looked at him for a second, before Ari took a deep breath. “I need you on this one….” he looked over Sammy’s shoulder and locked eyes with Hannah “Both of you.”

She frowned a little, her arms unfolding and dropping to her hips as she studied him.

“I can't do it without you.” Ari finished, diverting his attention back to Sam. Hannah watched her brother who paused for a moment, before he turned and walked past her, opening the door. He glanced back at Ari and said, quite forcefully.

“No.”

Hanna’s gaze dropped to the floor as Ari gave a small sigh “Alright…” and gathered up his belongings “Okay…” She looked up at him as he walked past, and he gave her a pleading look which she met with a passive one of her own as he gave her a sad smile, before he walked out, Sam avoiding his gaze as he did so.

The two siblings stood in silence for a moment before Hannah met Sam’s eyes.

“Oh no…” Sam groaned “Seriously…” “Can it hurt to hear him out?” She asked gently.

“Are you serious? For fucks sake…”Sam groaned. “You are, aren’t you?”

Hannah shrugged. Sam eyed his sister again and then rolled his eyes and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Fine we’ll listen...” Sam said loudly, as he walked into the doorway, leaning out of it as Ari stopped and turned to face him “But only out of curiosity…because I'm still gonna say no.”  

Both siblings ushered Ari to Sam's office, Hannah leading the way. She opened the door to let both men in. 

Ari could smell a familiar scent of vanilla when he walked past Hannah into the room and couldn't help but smile softly at her but she was staring at her feet and didn't notice. He tried to make eye contact with her as she helped Sammy to clear the small round table at the right far corner of the office, but to no avail. He could only catch a glimpse of her long eyelashes where the locks that had fallen off her bun allowed him to. 

It was only when Sam asked him to do what he had to do that she raised her head from the table and her big blue eyes looked directly at his, stopping there for a couple of seconds.  A couple of seconds which Ari hoped had been enough to convey the message he wanted her to get. One second; I'm sorry. Another one; help me out in this.

A couple of seconds later her gaze went to the back pack that hanged from his left shoulder. Battered, colour faded by uncountable missions and frayed at the seams.

"Ever thought of changing that? It could use a bit of a wash?" Hannah asked, her head nodding towards the back pack as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

He looked at it confused and when he returned his eyes to Hannah saw she was smiling.

"It's been with me through thick and thin. Couldn't get rid of it at this point." Ari replied returning the smile and placing the back pack on the table.

"All right, let's get this over with." Sammy urged Ari while he took a lot of documents, photographs and maps out. 

Sam wasn't willing to spend any more second on pleasantries. He knew if he gave Ari the chance, he was bound to dive head first into whatever crazy plan he had come up with this time and the quicker he did that, the quicker he could tell him to piss off.

Thus, Ari spread the documents out and for the following 45 minutes he talked Sam and Hannah through his plan for the mission. He had been more thorough with details and careful with sensitive information as he knew Sam would be a harder nut to crack than Rachel, Jake or Max. Especially if he wanted Hannah in.

Both siblings remained silent during the explanation. Sharing a glance from time to time, but Ari was too excited and focused on trying to explain his plan well to read too much into it. When he finished he put his hands on his hips, blew a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead and grinned with satisfaction, looking at them expectantly

Sammy, who had his arms crossed, moved a hand to his face rubbing his jaw and his eyes flicked a moment from the documents on the table to his sister. Hannah wasn’t looking at her brother, however, her attention was solely on the information Ari had set out.

"Is that a brochure for the hotel?" she asked as she took a brightly coloured and glossy document which was folded in the middle.

"Yup." he said popping the p.

"You've really given this plenty of thought." she said admiring the brochure as well as the rest of maps and planning documents scattered over the table.

"I have." Ari replied, his eyes pleading with her.

"So, just to be clear, you want us all to play house while smuggling refugees in and then out of fucking Sudan." Sam snorted.

"Basically, yes. And you sound like one of Isaacs' dogs." Ari protested.

Sam was about to bite back when Hannah grabbed his arm to cool him down.

"I think it's a brilliant plan." she said looking from Sam to Ari.

"Yeah, now he's the man with a plan." Sam scoffed and turned to look at her sister "And I don't care what you think, you're not going."

"Are you listening to yourself, Sam?" she said visibly annoyed at her brother’s overprotectiveness "You don't get to say what I am or am not doing. You hear me?"

Ari lowered his head and smiled at Hannah's outburst. She had always been an independent and opinionated girl and that had caught his attention right from the start. And she had turned into the determined and strong-willed gorgeous woman that stood there right in front of him, telling her older brother to basically fuck off. Ari couldn’t help but think how different she was from Sarah, who had become so clingy and demanding over the last few years.

"How do you even plan on getting all this up and running?" Sam asked Ari ignoring his sister.

"I said I’d have the details ironed out and a team assembled in 3 months and that was eight and a half weeks ago now, give or take” he said, looking at Sam then to Hannah “ I've got another three or so weeks to come up with covers for everyone and hand them out for memorizing. If everything goes to plan then we should be ready to deploy in January.”

Sam sighed and looked up at his sister who was busy studying the map, her sharp eyes roving over the details. Ari watched her for a second as she bit her lip before he looked back at Sam.

"I need you in this Sammy. I can't do it without you." he pleaded. Sam gave him a look, before he turned away shaking his head, clearly lost in his conflicting thoughts. Ari then switched his attention to Hannah. "And I need you too, Firefly.” At the use of his nickname for her she looked up, her eyes locking onto Ari’s a faint smile playing on her face as he held her gaze” I know I'm in no position to ask you to come with me. Not after what happened to Andy. But I really need a female doctor to take care of those refugee women."

Hannah visibly faltered at the mention of Andy. She hadn’t expected to hear his name, least of all from Ari's lips. He was really bringing the big guns out. But then again, persuasion tactics aside, it was a good plan and he was right about needing a woman to help out. Sammy had told her what had happened to that woman that had let herself drown on his last mission after they had found her bloodied and bruised by a tree after a vicious rape. It was common for women to be abused like that by the local authorities who persecuted them, and if there was something she could do to help, then Hannah already knew deep down that wouldn't be sitting the mission out. Andy wouldn't have done either and she was willing to bet Sam was already considering taking up Ari's offer. That fucking handsome bastard always got what he wanted. She would know.

"Which dumbasses have you got to agree to it so far?" Sammy asked, moving the discussion swiftly on. He had spotted his sister’s reaction to the mention of her late husband. She’d visibly wavered and Sammy had seen her right hand go straight to her necklace, where she wore her engagement ring and wedding band, an action she always undertook when she was nervous or the memory of Andy hit her. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ari either.

"Jake Wolf, who you know from a few missions, Max and Rachel..." Ari offered, turning to Sam.

"Max?" Hannah asked still fiddling with her necklace, but a look of surprise now on her face “Max agreed?”

Ari nodded smiling at her. He knew she would be in when she heard the name of her best friend. That was the reason he hadn't mentioned the names of the rest of the team along with the explanation and ensuing conversation. It was an ace up his sleeve he hadn’t wanted to play until necessary. And Sammy, good old Sammy, had provided him with the opportunity on a silver plate. A simple list of names, strategically ordered, and the match point was his.

Hannah looked at her brother and gave him a smile, inclining her head slightly, an action Ari knew all too well to be her conceding her agreement. He managed to resist the urge to punch the air in victory, but didn’t fight the smirk that slid across his face as he turned to Sam and asked.

"Are you dumbass enough to jump in?"

**** Chapter 2 Part 1

[louiseleblancdiggory]

can you do some rowaelin content based on invisible string by Taylor? pretty please

I love TS!!! Invisible String is so pretty and I had the perfect idea for it immediately. The whole bracelet thing was a real thing where I grew up, so it was nice to write about it. Enjoy!

Invisible string

--

May 1993

Aelin didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the first time she saw Rowan Whitethorn, she wanted to.

She had barely turned fifteen, just two days before, when she saw him for the first time. Then, she didn’t know his name, his age or anything about him, but she wanted to.

She was sitting down on a shaded spot on the green grass. Lysandra and Elide had dragged her to the park in the morning to watch the early Beltane commemorations. Every year on Beltane day, the kids were provided a series of games and prizes in the Centennial Park, and at night the adults would come, light up the fires and dance until the sun shone in the sky once more. Aelin loved Beltane, it was her holiday. Her family used to joke that it made sense that a girl that had so much wildfire inside of her had been born so close to Beltane.

Her spot in the grass gave her a direct view into the yogurt shop on the other side of the park. And there, standing in a ridiculous pink-and-blue apron and white hat, was the silver headed guy she couldn’t stop staring.

“You know who’s the guy working at Emrys’s?” She nudged Lysandra with her elbow, and her friend sat up and looked to where Aelin was jerking her chin.

“The silver headed?” Lys asked, her nose scrunching up. “Rowan Whitethorn. He’s in your cousin’s class, turning seventeen in a few months, I think.”

“Hum.”

“Oh, no. I know that look. Whitethorn is bad news, Ace. Stay away from him.” Lys warned and Elide nodded from where she was laying down.

She nodded vaguely, but her eyes didn’t leave Rowan. Even for his age, he was already tall and toned. His teal shirt was rolled back at the sleeves to reveal a tattoo sneaking up his arm from his wrist. He was completely serious, not smiling at one costumer and seeming infinitely bored.

Rowan Whitethorn looked like bad news, and Aelin was attracted to it like a moth to the flame.

However, she didn’t go up to him. At that time, as much daring as she was, she still possessed that teenage natural shyness, and talking to a boy two years older than her who looked like he wanted to smash everyone’s skulls wasn’t really her area of expertise. She watched him every now and then, though. The morning ended, giving away to a hot afternoon. At some point, a few kids started running around with buckets, giving away little strings to everyone.

“It grants you a wish.” The little boy told her when he stopped by her tree. “You tie it around your wrist and when it falls down naturally, you can make a wish and it comes true.”

“Oh, really?” Elide, always the nicest one of their trio, asked sounding genuinely interested.

“Yes. Anything you wish becomes true. Sometimes it falls after days, sometimes it takes years, my daddy told me. But it falls eventually and you get a wish.” The boy sounded extremely excited. Aelin guesses that being eight and going around giving magical strings did that to a kid.

“I’ll take one, then. Who doesn’t want a wish, right?” Elide said and the little boy nodded eagerly, handing her a purple string.

“I’ll take one too, of course.” Lysandra smiled, receiving a green string and tying it around her ankle.

When the little boy turned to Aelin, she grinned at him. “I wouldn’t waste the opportunity of having a wish come true, would I?”

The boy smiled back at her, giving her the only gold string inside his bucket. He was running off to the next group of people before she could even thank him. She laughed under her breath, starting to tie it around her wrist. As she gave it the final knot, she looked back at the yogurt shop. Rowan had, surprisingly, also accepted a string from a little girl. He gave her a little smile as he knelt near her, and when she sauntered off, his eyes roamed around the park, stopping on her.

Aelin thought she was mistaken, that in no way in hell he was staring at her, but as Rowan finished tying his string, he raised his wrist and winked.

Aelin could only stare at the equally golden string on his wrist.

———————————

October 1996

Rowan was celebrating his twentieth birthday just the way he planned: getting drunk.

He and his friends had been planning this trip to Los Angeles for months now, and they had ditched a whole week in the university to do it . It was completely worth it, though. They had spent the last three days doing fucking nothing other than drinking and playing some shitty videogame. Rowan had watched Fenrys flirt with every woman that talked to him, watched Lorcan and Aedion scowling and Connall and Vaughan acting like the loving couple they always were.

Things were normal and they were good.

“Man, how the fuck did you find this restaurant?” Fenrys muttered, taking a sip of his beer. Rowan had to agree, the pub’s entrance was almost unnoticeable, and if it wasn’t for Aedion, they would have never found it.

The food was great, the drinks were great and whoever was in charge of the playlist had impeccable taste. Rowan couldn’t think of a better place to spend his birthday.

Aedion scoffed, putting his phone down. “I didn’t find shit. My cousin has been to LA a thousand times and pestered me about coming here. She said, and I quote, that it was her favorite pub in LA, that the food was divine, the beer didn’t taste like piss and, even if the two latter statements weren’t true, the amazing music makes up for it.”

“You are Aelin’s cousin!” The waitress exclaimed, a heavy Scottish accent making the words roll out of her tongue. She must have heard what Aedion was saying when she was walking back to their table to ask if they wanted anything else. “You have her face, and I’ve heard her say those words every time she visited us. Lovely girl, wicked smart, too. Tricked poor Rolfe into letting her buy beer at the age of seventeen! We all though she was twenty two until she was tipsy enough to reveal the truth.”

Aedion grinned. “Sounds exactly like my cousin.”

The waitress laughed out loud, looking at the rest of them. For some reason, her eyes stopped at Rowan. “Beautiful girl, isn’t she? Gets prettier every time she comes by. Looks like one of those American singers.”

He smiled politely at her, but didn’t answer. Rowan had never spoken to Aedion’s cousin. Actually, he had only seen her once.

Rowan looked down at the worn string on his wrist. All his friends had lost theirs already, but Rowan’s was still standing strong. He didn’t believe in any of that bullshit, but he had to admit he had grown fond of the soft scrapping the string gave him. The mention of Aelin and the vision of the golden string only helped him remember the only time he had seen her. It had been Beltane little over three years ago, he was just sixteen and working with yogurt because he really needed the money.

He would have never wore a blue-and-pink apron otherwise.

The day was terribly hot, and Rowan hated interacting with people. Hated small talk and it looked like every person that came by decided that they didn’t want only yogurt, but also a five minute talk with him.

Absolute fucking torture.

When the kids had come around with the strings, it was the first time Rowan wasn’t pissed at the need to talk to someone. The kid had been lovely; a little girl explaining how he would be granted a wish if he wore the string and let it fall naturally. She grabbed the only golden one inside her bucket, running away as Rowan tied it on his wrist.

He looked around mindlessly, but his gaze stopped on a golden haired woman looking at him. Being so far away, Rowan couldn’t identify who she was exactly, but there was something familiar about her. And even from afar he knew that the girl was drop dead gorgeous.

And then he noticed the golden string on her wrist. If it was any other color it might have been something he would have missed it, but the golden thing caught in the light and shined, just like the one on his own wrist. Rowan never understood why he did it, but he raised his wrist to how her his string and winked at her.

Later he discovered why she had looked familiar. She was his best friend’s cousin.

“Ace does get prettier every year.” Fenrys’s voice rang, taking Rowan out of his memories. “Much to the dismay of anyone who has to deal with her ego.”

Vaughan laughed at that. He and Fenrys were the only ones besides Aedion who had any contact with Aelin.

Still staring at the golden string, Rowan almost opened his mouth to ask Aedion for her number. He didn’t know why, the thought had come all too sudden to his head, and he bit his tongue to stop the words.

He didn’t know Aelin one bit, and just ask for her number after a waitress said she was beautiful sounded like a way to pick a fight with Aedion who was extremely protective of his younger cousin.

No, Rowan thought, better to just leave things as they are.

——————————————

New Year’s Eve 1999

Aelin never thought she would be spending New Year’s Eve in a dive bar with her friends and her cousin’s friends.

Usually for end of the year celebrations, her parents would organize a gala or some shit that would force Aelin to wear a boring dress. This year, however, her parents decided to go travel to Europe and spend two weeks there.

And because of that Aelin was wearing a mini red dress, extremely high stilettos, listening to obnoxiously bad music in a small dive bar as she and her group drank beer of questionable quality.

It was fucking great.

She toyed with the dull string on her wrist, the thing probably just hours or days from snapping. After almost seven years, it was about time. She had thought about simply cutting it before, but could never go through with it. It had become a friendly bracelet, one she twisted when nervous or distracted. It had been in all her photos since the age of fifteen, and it would be strange when it fell.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get their wish yet.” A man’s voice came from behind her, and Aelin turned around to stare at her teenage crush.

Rowan had been attractive at sixteen, but now at twenty three he was straight up hot. He had grown even more, his body looking just as defined. Even with the heels, Aelin tipped her back a little to look at him.

They had never talked, never even looked at each other after that Beltane celebration. Every now and then Aelin would consider asking Vaughan or Fenrys for Rowan’s number, but that would have been strange. She had even once looked him up on social medias after a nasty break up with a man named Chaol. Rowan had no idea who she was, but a small part of Aelin would never be able to forget him.

He had been the crush of her teenage years, even if they had never interacted.

“I’m almost.” She said, raising her wrist the same way he had years ago. “Never thought I would enter the two thousands with this thing still on my wrist.”

“Looks like the golden ones are really lasting.” He showed her his wrist, an equally worn golden string laying there. “I’m Rowan.”

“Aedion told me about you. I’m Aelin.” She extended a hand, and he grabbed it with a smile on his face.

“Aedion has told me about you, too.”

“I tremble just from thinking about exactly what Aedion has told you.” She shivered and he laughed. He didn’t look like the angry teenager she had fallen for in secret, but like an easy going man that she would have no problems talking to.

Oh no. We are not going back to our fifteen years old crush. We have grown out of that.

“Want to go to the bar grab a drink?” He asked.

“Sure.”

Fucking idiot.

Aelin almost told her brain to shut up out loud.

“So, what have you been doing? Still with the whole yogurt shit?”

He smiled at her as they walked to the bar. “Fortunately have left those days behind. Most miserable job I have ever had.”

“The blue-and-pink apron and fake smile really did it for you, though.”

He laughed out loud and Aelin smiled, sitting on a stool.

“Was I that memorable, Galathynius? You saw me only once.”

And at that moment, a doubt she had for the past years had been answered. He had seen her that day, and the wink had probably been to her too.

“The sight was ridiculous enough that I could never forget, Whitethorn.” Her grin became wider. “And the little white hat on your hair was the cherry on top.”

Rowan was trying to scowl, but Aelin saw how he had to bite the inside of his cheeks to refrain from laughing. The moment he opened his mouth to reply, Fenrys threw his arm around her shoulders, taking all attention to him.

“My two favorite people.”

“You’re drunk.” Aelin deadpanned as Rowan sighed.

“It is my happiest state of mind, my dear.” He booped her nose. “I’m so glad the two of you started talking by yourselves. I thought I would need to introduce you guys.”

Aelin knew she would regret it immediately, but she asked anyways. “Why would you bother, wolfie?”

“Well,” he started, suddenly trying to act serious. Aelin had to bite her lower lip at the impatient look on Rowan’s face. When he looked at her, his eyes were almost pleading.

As if I could stop him now. She mouthed to him.

Wishful thinking, Galathynius. He mouthed back.

“Three years ago I thought it would finally happen, you know?” Fenrys continued, oblivious to Rowan and Aelin’s silent conversation. “Me and Vaughan always thought the two of you would get along. Same music taste, same movie taste, and bla bla bla… Three years ago,” hiccup. “Three years ago I thought Rowan was finally going to ask Aedion for your number after Aed said that you had been the one to choose the pub Rowan had loved. But he didn’t.”

Fenrys turned to Rowan, scowling deeply. Rowan’s ears were red, his cheeks slightly pink.

“And Aed was a prick and didn’t offer it himself.” Fenrys looked genuinely pissed. “And then tonight I learn from Lysandra about Aelin’s teenage cru—“

“Ok!” She said a little loudly, her own cheeks on flames. She tried not to look at Rowan, hoping Fenrys’s drunk words had been misinterpreted. “It’s two minutes for midnight, Fenrys. Go find someone else to make the last minutes of the century miserable.”

As if he hadn’t been about to drop one of her biggest secrets and embarrassments, Fenrys simply gave her a peck on the cheek and walked away.

She stared at his back, not wanting to look at Rowan.

“What was that, Ace? I didn’t catch it right. Teenage what?” He asked, but by the tone of his voice Aelin knew that he knew exactly what Fenrys was talking about.

She was going to kill Fenrys. And then Lysandra for telling him. And the Aedion for buying Lysandra the alcohol that made her tell him.

“I was young.” She said through clenched teeth. Her cheeks were burning.

When she turned back to him, he had a grin on his mouth.

“You liked me?” He sounded dopey.

“Fuck off.”

He laughed loudly, almost doubling over. Gosh, she wanted to open a hole on the ground and never see civilization again.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the heartbreaker, had a crush on me?” A little bit of laughter was still on his voice, the smile still big on his face. “I’m flattered. Honestly.”

“Please, please shut the fuck up. And never talk about it again.” She pleaded, looking at the big clock on the bar. One minute for 2000. She was going to spend the last minute in the century dying of embarrassment. “Gosh, I want to kill you right now. And Fenrys, and Lys. Anyone with the information.”

“I remember when I heard that you had made Archer Finn cry when you broke up with him.” Rowan said as if she hadn’t said a word. “And you were head over heels for me.”

“I wasn’t head over heels for you, you insufferable bastard.” She grunted, crossing her arms and standing up. “And Fenrys said you were going to ask for my number three years ago, so stop gloating about me liking you.”

“I was.”

“I know you were gloating, I fucking heard you.” She raised her chin, looking at the clock again. Thirty seconds.

“I was going to ask for your number, I mean.” He explained, still smiling. Aelin didn’t know what to answer at that, so she only stared at him. He sounded so much more comfortable talking about it than she was. “You think these things accept me getting my wish before they fall?”

“What?”

Twenty seconds.

“Like, I get my wish now and when it falls I don’t wish for anything.”

Fifteen seconds.

“I don’t know?” Aelin replied. “I’m not really an expert on fake strings’ magic.”

Ten seconds. Everyone started the countdown.

“Well, let’s pretend then that it was an invisible string.”

Nine, eight, seven…

“Huh?”

“An invisible string. It broke right now and I get a wish.”

Six, five, four..

“An invisible string?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, and she instinctively smiled back at him.

They just stared at each other during the next two seconds, and when everyone screamed “one”, Rowan put his hands on Aelin hips and dragged her forward, placing her in between his legs as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

Aelin sighed, putting her arms around his shoulders and kissing him back. Rowan’s mouth was soft and warm against hers, and Aelin could feel his smile against her lips. She smiled too, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside of her mouth, deepening the kiss. One of his hands went to the back of her head, holding her in place was his lips moved on hers, as his tongue moved against hers.

“Happy New Century, Galathynius.” Rowan murmured against her mouth, the screams around them sounding muffled by his voice.

“Happy New Century, Whitethorn.” She murmured back, smiling against his mouth as they kissed, not caring for anyone else, or anything else, as they focused on each other during the first minutes of the new century.

——————————————

December 2008

“And she had the biggest crush on me when she was fifteen.” Rowan whispered.

“Rowan Whitethorn, I swear to the gods that if you are telling them I liked you when I was younger, I’ll become a widow today!” His wife’s voice rang from the kitchen, and Rowan fake winced.

His kids only laughed at their parents, bright and happily.

Aelin’s golden head popped out of the kitchen, showing him her tongue. Rowan only winked at her, the same way he had when she had been fifteen. Her face morphed into a soft smile, and she came to them. Aelin sat on his lap, turning to their kids. Rowan pulled her back against her chest, putting his nose on the crook of her neck and breathing in.

He had been wrong eight years ago. The invisible string between them hadn’t snapped.

His wish did come true, though.

Tags:

@abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass

[peaky-gray]

Save Yourself

Pt. 7/?

A/N: here is part seven, I hope you love it as much as I did writing it. let me know what you think and if you want more! xx

Listen while you read.

TW: drug use

PART ONE.   PART TWO.   PART THREE.   PART FOUR.   PART FIVE.   PART SIX.

You and the boys arrived at Ada’s home in London, where Tommy knew Ben Younger was, who Tommy had business to speak about with him. You walked into the room, taking a seat at the table by the window, Michael doing the same.

Michael, sitting across from you, had the audacity to pull out a vial of coke, line it up, and snort it. In front of you. You scoff loudly, Michael looking at you and realizing what he had done. When you were together, you didn't argue often, but when you did, it was usually about snow. You hated his drug usage and what it did to him. He started taking it after he was shot, said it helped him sleep, you went along with it, hoping it would stop soon. He never stopped it though, only increasing his usage. You both stared at each other as the memories of the arguments both played in your heads. 

Tommy speaking brought you both back, "Er, Michael, you still have shit on your shoes." 

Motioning at Younger, "My associate here can evidently smell it." 

Ben responded, "I don't mean any offense."

Tommy, ignoring Ben, continues to talk to Michael handing him a coin, "Here, Michael. You and Prudence go find Karl and buy him an ice cream, eh? That man doesn't trust you." 

You speak up, laughing, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Michael, glaring at Tommy, spits venom, "Fuck you, Tom." 

You stand up, glaring at both Tommy and Michael, telling Michael, "Fucking come on."

Michael gets up, shooting daggers at Tommy, speaking again, "You know, Gina phoned. Baby's heart's beating strong. But I swear to God, Tom, by the time that baby draws his first breath, you and I will be done." 

Tommy scoffs at Michael and then looks at you. “And you will be king. Is that it, Michael?”

Michael stops and turns around to face Tommy, “You know, Tom, there are doctors in London now who can talk their way into your head. Dig out all the shit. Perhaps you should see one.”

Taking the cue to leave, Michael walks out of the room, with you following. The universe hated you, you were sure of it. 

Stepping out onto the street, you knew Karl was not going to get his ice cream, not with the way Michael’s jaw was clenching and the tension in his shoulders strained against his coat. This was the first time you and Michael had been properly alone since his homecoming, you didn’t count getting the car at the yard because you didn’t speak to each other. Now, he had no choice but to speak to you. He stood on the street, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He was different, angrier, colder, panicked. Certainly not the Michael you knew. 

Unsure of what to say, you stare at Michael. He notices gruffly, “What?”

“No-nothing. You just look different.”

“So do you. Hairs longer. You look tired too.” You weren’t tired, you were exhausted. You watched Bonnie die, Michael came back with a wife and an unborn child and you weren’t coping well with any of it. 

Scoffing, “Gee, thanks, Michael.” 

“You know I didn’t mean- I’m sorry.”

Desperate to leave the uncomfortable situation, you tell Michael, “It’s alright. I’m gonna go find Karl and buy him an ice cream. You can do whatever. Uhm, bye.”

You see Michael’s face change, an expression of mild panic, “No, don’t leave. I mean, I can come with you. Don’t want you walking the streets of London alone.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all, only letting Michael lead you down the street.

Minutes of walking in silence, Michael speaks again, “I’m sorry for your loss by the way.”

With nothing else to say but thank you, you both continue walking in silence. 

You arrived back in Birmingham before Michael, Tommy, or Arthur, so that evening you stopped by Polly’s to wish her a proper happy birthday. Knocking on the door, it opens with Polly - panic settling on her face when she sees you. 

“Prudence, what are you doing here?”

Confused, “Uhm, wishing you a happy birthday? Is everything alright?”

Before she had time to answer, you heard a sickly sweet American accent. Over walked a tall blonde, “Is everything alright Polly? Who is this?”

You thought to yourself, you have got to be fucking kidding me, Gina. You now had a vendetta with the universe. You looked at Polly, who looked like a deer in headlights as she spoke, “Gina, this is Prudence, a uhm, family friend. Pru, come in.” Gina didn’t know who you were, yet.

If this encounter had happened any other day, you probably would have fled the scene. But tonight, you were fed up and ready to play any game that Gina threw at you.

Walking into the corridor, you shrugged off your coat and hung it on the coat rack next to a camel coat you were sure was Gina’s. Not your style.

You enter the living room where Polly and Gina were already sitting, taking a seat on the sofa. Clearly, you had already missed the beginning of the festivities, shame. Gina poured herself a cup of tea, urging Polly to open the gift she had given here. You could only imagine what it would be. 

“So, you heard the baby’s heartbeat today.” If you hadn't known Polly for as long as you did, you probably would have missed it. Polly had a glimmer of suspicion in her eyes upon asking the question. She knew something you didn’t but after meeting Gina, you clued in on the suspicion as well. 

Gina chuckles, “Beats so fast.” 

Polly speaks, “Would have been a birthday gift enough. New life.” 

Polly unboxes her gift, revealing a figure of the Statue of Liberty. Classic.

Gina speaks up from across the room in her American accent, “Liberty. Freedom.”

Polly tosses it in her hand, “Feels like a weapon.” God, you loved Polly.

“I only came because Michael’s driving back from London, and he said he didn’t want you to be alone.” Was Polly supposed to be thankful to Gina for that?

Polly sets the statue down on the table before speaking, “So, whose idea was the gift of freedom?”

Gina looks at Polly, “Mine.” Of course it was.

You had sat in silence on the couch for the entire conversation, Gina not daring to even glance at you. Although she didn’t know you, she didn’t yet have a reason to hate you. You were beginning to feel like the statue sitting on the table.

“You want to take Michael and the baby to New York?” After Polly asked Gina that question, you were starting to wish that you did flee. Or that the couch would swallow you up. 

“Yes. The baby will have two grandmothers. The other one lives-”

Polly interrupts Gina, “The other one lives amongst human beings. The other one is a human being.”

Gina sighs as Polly speaks again, “It’s all right, I’m not drunk. I’m just free. So, what do you want? My approval?”

Gina’s answer surprises you, “Your help. Michael wants you to come with us. We can all live on Long Island, right on the beach.”

“Isn’t Long Island in Australia? Or is it in California?” Polly questions. 

Gina lights a cigarette, “It’s in New York. Polly.”

Polly looks at you as she answers, “You see, we all try and get away. But we never do.” 

Polly places her hand on Gina’s stomach, your heart finally catching up to your head. This was a mistake. Gina looks momentarily terrified before her poor poker face returns. 

“I wish I heard that heartbeat today.” Polly didn’t need to hear the heartbeat to know what she suspected, she was Polly Gray, and Polly Gray knows everything. 

Gina pulls Polly’s hand off of her stomach, leaning closer to Polly, “You’re starting to sound a little sorry for yourself.” Gina was beginning to venture into territory she didn’t want to be in. 

Gina puts out her cigarette and stands up, “I’m an American. We don’t just go round and round and round. We go in a straight line. And my baby...will be born in New York.” 

Gina swiftly turns on her heel to leave as Polly rolls her eyes, Gina did not know what she just got herself into. 

Polly turns to you with a smug expression on her face, “Darling, isn’t she?”

You didn’t have the energy to laugh. 

[crimsonwolfie]

Fortuitous Love — Theo Raeken x Werewolf!Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) are a werewolf in London who live with Jackson and Ethan. You all travel to Beacon Hills to help Scott’s pack fight against the hunters, only things happen unexpectedly...

Warnings: occasionally swearing, trigger of dying/pain, fluff and general happy ending

Word count: 4,799

Masterlist

“You know, you’re asking for your death certificate by doing this.”

“I’m part werewolf, part kanima, darling. They’ve got nothing on me.”

“What about us, my love? We’re only werewolves. Sorry for not having the intolerance to wolfsbane unlike you!”

Carrying your head in your hands, you sigh dramatically at the two loverbirds in the front seats. Jackson and Ethan have been your friends (more like parents) for the past 2 years, after they found you alone and scared on the night you turned. Ever since then, they’ve taken you under their wing like their own and helped you control yourself - they were there for you when no one else was. During those 2 years, they’ve confided in you completely, telling you about Beacon Hills and their friends back there like Lydia, Stiles, Scott and Derek Hale. Being in London, you don’t really make any run in appearances with other supernaturals so your knowledge of them is remotely vague...but ever since your date took you out on a walk through the woods and bit you, you’ve wanted to know everything you can about all of it. If it wasn’t for Jackson and Ethan walking home from a dinner date and heard you scream, then you wouldn’t even be here to tell your story.

A cold, refreshing breeze hits your heated pink cheeks as your hair is swept back from the car window being down. Peering up through the sunroof, you see the moon full and as bright as the heavens above, bringing a small smile to your lips. As the reflection of the moonlight appears upon your glossy eyes, your mind wanders into reminiscing what your life was like before you changed...how you couldn’t hear everything in a 3 mile radius, how you had to ask how people were feeling instead of smelling their emotions...how you didn’t have to be weary of people hunting you down just to kill you for personal gain...

“How’re you feeling, Y/N?” you’re snapped back to reality by Jackson turning around in his seat, his eyes soft and his dimples merry.

“I’m okay, a little nervous i guess” you reply, shifting in your seat slightly whilst tugging the sleeves of your hoodie onto your hands “but hey, what about you? I mean...you haven’t seen these people for 3 years”

“It’s okay, not like they’re strangers. It’s just a shame it’s not under better circumstances” Jackson drops his head slightly in guilt. You know he thinks he should have visited them at least once a year, but with so many supernatural occurrences that have happened in Beacon Hills over the years, he knew it wasn’t the right time. And you knew that too.

“Look, you couldn’t see them before this. It was too dangerous, okay? You’re not in the wrong.” You place your dainty hand over his large one, gripping it tightly in a way to say “it’s going to be okay.” He returns this with a gentle squeeze of your hand and a small smile, before letting go and turning back to the front.

You, Jackson and Ethan were on your way to Beacon Hills to help the pack fight against pretty much the whole town, who have been turned by their own fear to fighting and killing all supernatural creatures. Hunters had been sent to London to hunt down you three, obviously they didn’t succeed but you guys were absolutely pissed. In a way, this is all a blessing in disguise to you, as you’re now on your way to meet people who are meant to be like a second family to you. You’ve heard so much about them all, that you feel like you have already met them...it’s...weird.

“Don’t be scared, darlings” Ethan disturbs the comforting silence with a soft tone “i can sense the fear from both of you, it’s thicker than a bowl of oatme-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” you lean forward poking your head between the two seats in front, glaring at Ethan with beady eyes. Both men wheeze as you breathe out a slight laugh.

“-and anyway...i’m not scared.” You retort, placing your hands on your hips and tilting your head slightly whilst staring into Ethan’s eyes in the mirror. He stares back at you, crinkles on his eyelines and cheek bones high as he cackles softly at your words

“Yeah right princess”

“It’s true! I’m not!”

“It’s okay if you are, sweetie” Jackson pouts sarcastically, earning a middle finger from you. “Hey, don’t be mean little lady!” Jackson wiggles his finger at you whilst tutting your choice of actions.

“Love i will not hesitate to bite your finger off and throw it out this window” you hiss as your eyes glow a bright golden colour. Since you’re London born and raised, you have a british accent coating your words, making it all that more humorous for the two americans in front of you. Your accent has always been something they find both fascinating about you, but also a way to tease you about how you say certain words. You look up to the window reflection to see your eyes are glowing and quickly look down and shake it off.

“You know, i think you’ll get on very well with Theo Raeken” Jackson pipes up, you look up to see him smirking, knowing it’ll wind you up even more.

“Who is this Theo Raeken guy, anyway. I thought you said you both left town before he appeared?”

“Oh we did, only it’s a pretty small world and that guy gets around..” Ethan side eyes Jackson, wearing a confused “just tell her” expression

“...okay maybe because Lydia calls me every week to tell me what i’ve missed.” He sighs as he rolls his eyes. You smirk sweetly, quite enjoying the view in front of you.

“So what’s he like?” You ask, intrigued to know more about this ‘Theo’ guy

“He’s a dick”

“And a liar”

“And a snake”

“Wait how’s that even possible?! I didn’t even think you could have a snake hybr-“

“-no not literally silly, you can’t trust him. He’s a snake that way”

“-oh.”

...

“Is he fit though?”

“Y/N STOP”

—

The car comes to a sudden halt outside an old, abandoned building. The night sky darkens your surroundings, taking away any sort of comfort you had before. Had you reached your destination? Or was something stopping you from reaching it? Remote darkness surrounds you all with not a glimpse of light in sight - no street lamps lit, no lights in the buildings and no cat eyes in the road. It’s almost as if you’re standing in the middle of a ghost town, or even a graveyard.

“This...this can’t be right?” Ethan begins to fiddle with the satnav displayed in front of him “it’s saying ‘route malfunction. No route calculated?”

“It was fine when we got here?” Jackson retorts whilst rubbing his eyes of tiredness. You can feel it too...the fatigue. After an 11 hour plane ride, you’re surprised you’d lasted this long without any sleep. But there’s something else your senses are picking up on...fear? Or even anger?

“Let me try my phone” you hesitate as you open the car door, stepping one foot out ever so cautiously. Picking up your phone from the seat, you hold it up in the air in hopes of getting a signal - nothing. No bars at all...weird.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, causing your entire body to cover in goosebumps. Pulling your hoodie over your body more and bringing your arms up to hug yourself, you get back in the car, rolling the window back up. As if by magic, the air turned from a cool summer breeze to a winter snowstorm with an unsettling feeling running around in the air, and you nor your wolf side liked it.

“Do...do you feel that?” You ask

“I don’t know what it is but...yeah i feel something”

“It’s called love dumbass”

“Jackson this is not a time for your sarc...” Ethan trails off suddenly, sticking his nose up in the air and sniffing. “It’s blood...i smell blood”

“What are you...wait, yeah i smell it too” you retort, opening your car door up once again and stepping out “i’m gonna go and follow it, stay here” you say

“Y/N you’re basically our child, it’s YOU who should be staying put, safe” Ethan replies, his hand on your shoulder

“Eth, it’s okay...i can handle myself” you flash your eyes “if i’m not back in 10 then get the hell out of here. Don’t look back.” and with that, you stalk off, following the scent of fresh blood. Using your wolf vision allows you to see more in your path than you would normally, and with your senses heightened due to a completely unfamiliar setting, you know you’ll be okay.

There’s tall brooding trees everywhere around you, but no sight of life of any kind. Running faster and faster you start to gain a stronger track of the scent, seeing a type of clearing ahead of you. Just as you’re about to leap forward, you hear something flying through the air, only you have no idea where it’s coming from. As you stop and stand behind the tree bark, your vision starts to blur and your muscles begin to weaken. You feel this sharp sting in your side, looking down to reveal an arrow sticking out of it. Panic overwhelms you as the thought of dying here in the darkness, in the cold all alone, scares the hell out of you. A hot, single tear drops on your rosy cheek and into the corner of your mouth. You want to scream, to rip someone’s throat out, to run and hide, but you can’t move. The sound of more arrows flying through the darkness surround you, until all you can hear is the same swooshing sound of this death trap.

“Hunters” you moan under your breath, squinting your face in both pain and anger. The blood is oozing out fast, and you’re not healing. You lift your hoodie up to see the damage whilst wincing...and it’s bad. I mean...really bad. If you’re not healing, then it can only mean one thing...

“Oh for fuck sake, wolfsbane?” You growl as blood seeps into your leggings, painting your once grey hoodie now a tie dye of a piercing crimson shade. The pain begins getting worse as beads of sweat drip from your forehead, mixing with your salty tears. Red laser beams strike through the darkness ahead of you, searching for your body. Scrunching up into a ball on the floor, you try to rock yourself to ease the pain, but it’s useless. You’re looking around for any sort of plan, and start to think of Jackson and Ethan, hoping they’ve gone and are out of harms way. ‘If anything ever happens to them i swear to god i will kill anyone and everyone who inflicted harm their way’ you think to yourself, as you tug the arrow out of your body with a heartbreaking cry. So many emotions are crossing your mind right now to the point you don’t know what is right to feel and what is wrong. Killing someone? It feels fucking right at the moment. Especially the son of a bitch who hunted you.

You know you couldn’t howl to alert the others as they would just race towards you, not away. You have no choice but to face the hunters to get to the clearing, to find someone to help, and with that...you get up. It takes all your strength, but you do it, determined to escape alive.

“Cmon Y/N, you got this” you whisper to yourself in a brittle voice, chin trembling from the pain you’re enduring. Your golden circles glow brightly with determination, as you step forward...but as soon as you do, you look down to see a red laser beam pointed directly at your stomach. Luckily your adrenaline instincts kick in as you grab the flying arrow mid-flight before it hits your body. Breaking it into two pieces, you look up, anger and rage boiling inside you. Your fangs rip through your gums as a ground-rumbling growl leaves your throat, cutting through the space around you like a thousand knives. Running towards the clearing, a dozen more arrows fly around your body...some missing...but also some hitting. Taking a few arrows to your chest, back, legs... your vision gets blurrier, fading by the second until you can’t take it anymore, the wolfsbane kicking in a lot quicker than before. Collapsing on the ground of dried leaves and fertile soil, you reach your hand out to the clearing, trying to grasp at it one final time. Gripping a handful of soil in your blood soaked palms, your eyes brim with tears. ‘This is it’ you think, your fear of a painful, cold and lonely death becomes too realistic. The sound of arrows flying from all directions starts fading away as your body slowly starts giving up on you. As you’re about to give up completely, you see a small blurry blob in the distance getting bigger and bigger the closer it comes. The last thing you see is a hand reach towards your body, then pitch black.

You awake with a gasping breath, back shot up straight and eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was being on the brink of death in the woods, yet now you’re in somewhere that looks like a clinic...an animal clinic maybe?

Looking down at your hands, you see dirt and blood still dug in-between your nails...but there’s white bandages wrapped around your arms. Your bare back shrieks in pain as your skin burns underneath, screaming to be ripped apart. The steel table is cold to your touch as you sweep your legs off onto the side, examining your body for injuries - you’re patched up with bandages everywhere instead. As you’re about to get off the table completely, you hear footsteps approaching the room. Quickly, you decide to grab the needle to your right side for defence, only freezing once seeing the figure walk into the room.

It’s a boy, roughly the same age as you, only he seems a lot more muscular, taller and maturer than you. His hair is a dirty blonde, with longer bits at the front that fall in front of his face Leonardo Dicaprio style. His complexion is dashing, with eyes as blue as the sea and chiseled jawline, his nose pretty much perfect and his lips...oh they look succulent. Upon seeing you, he smirks with perfect lips, as his brows raise.

“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” He asks, his voice deep but attractive. He places the clipboard in his arms down on the counter next to him, bringing a hand to his hip.

“I...you could have been the hunter” you reply, captivated by his features still

“So i try to kill you, patch you up here and then try to kill you again?” His lips part as a chuckle leaves his throat

“You never know.” You snap, pouting your lips as your brows furrow in defeat.

“So...you must be Y/N?’” The boy asks, tilting his head slightly whilst scanning you up and down. You step back suddenly, surprised he knows who you are, as if he’s been expecting you.

“Wait how’d you know that?” You ask, slowly placing the needle in your hand on the table. He steps forward, closing the space between you two slightly

“Well for one, the accent” he points towards your mouth with a single finger, “and second, Lydia never stops talking about the ‘girl who Jackson saved’. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Well you’re acting like i’m not what you expected..”

“Because you’re not.” He smirks whilst getting closer, closing the gap between you two more. You can’t help but stare into his eyes, then look down at his luscious lips and think of what they’d feel like pushing against yours, moving in synchronisation-

“Hey, stop thinking about me” you snap out of your trance, looking up to see him winking at you with that famous grin of his that everyone talks about, granted he is who you’re thinking he is...

“I-i’m not thinking about you” you push him away

“I can smell the attraction on you” he scoffs.

“I take it you’re Theo Raeken, then.” Sighing, you look up at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“The one and only” he says as he comes closer to you, bringing his face inches away from your own.

You understand what everyone means when they say Theo Raeken is no good - The guy reeks of selfishness and cockiness. He went against Scott and his pack, even killed him at one point and spent a year in hell...if you could see red flags then he’d be drowning in them. But that’s your problem - you go for the bad guys...you always have. Jackson and Ethan knew this already, which is why they knew you’d get along with him when no one else does.

“So what brings you to Beacon Hills, gorgeous?” Theo takes a few small steps forward, which is making you take small steps back until your back hits the wall of the clinic, your frame pressed against the hard surface. Theo raises his hand and presses his palm against the wall, leaving you nowhere to escape...that is...if you wanted to (but hey, being sandwiched between a wall and a really hot - actually insanely hot guy, was not that bad).

“It’s the hunters, we came back to help.” Your eyes glimpse across his face once again, as you bite your bottom lip. You lean on the wall with your feet planted into the floor, keeping you completely still.

“You’re willing to risk your life for complete strangers?” Theo’s face falls in concern, his deep blue eyes squinting slightly in disbelief. ‘What kind of girl would do that?’ He questioned himself, starting to get more intrigued by you each second.

“They’re not strangers, kinda?” You reply, looking away as you try to explain “they’re Jackson and Ethan’s friends, so i trust them.” Scratching your neck, you look back to him. Theo stares at you as if he doesn’t believe what you’re saying. “You don’t need to stare at me like that”

“Like what?” Theo questions

“Like you can’t trust me. Because you can...and anyway who’s to say you’re the one to be trusted? You don’t exactly have the best representation” you retort, earning a scoff from the boy in front of you

“I saved your life; you should be grateful?” He hissed

“Gee, thanks for not killing me like you did with Scott Mccall, you’re my hero.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I do not like your attitude, pretty” theo scoulds, his eyes glowing.

You flash your eyes back at him, growling “i don’t like your loyalties.”

“Yeah well maybe if you went through what i’ve gone through you’d understand”

“You don’t need to pity yourself, Raeken. Some people are just born monsters. Accept it.”

“You don’t even know me!” He’s practically screaming now, with his teeth gritted and fangs shining in the moonlight from the windows above

“I know enough to know you’re a no good, rotten waste of space!” You hiss back, as you go to swipe at him...but he blocks you, gripping your wrist in his hand.

You both stand there facing each other with your fangs dripping and eyes golden, faces inches apart and heavily breathing. You can practically feel his chest on yours, his breath tingling on your cheeks. Staring into each other’s eyes, neither of you move. His hand is still wrapped tightly around your wrist...only after around 10 seconds of staring into each other’s golden orbs, he loosens his grip. He doesn’t let go, just hovers his hand gently over yours. You yank your wrist from his touch and bend under his other arm, which is still palmed to the wall. Walking around the the other side of the table, you focus on controlling yourself...which Theo notices from the corner of his eye.

“You still have trouble controlling yourself, don’t you?..” he begins, only you shut him up by running towards him, shoving your hand over his mouth. Theo’s eyes widen, fearful for your state...but there’s something else in his eyes - sympathy? Suddenly a heart-wrenching pain tears through your side, causing you to kneel over screaming with pain. Still with your hand over Theo’s mouth, he gently places his own over yours as long, black lines start trailing through his skin.

“Wha-what are you-“ you yelp loudly “-you doing?” gritting your teeth and clawing your claws into your palms, he places his other hand over the small of your back. Theo gently moves your hand with his, off of his mouth, so he can talk.

“I’m taking your pain away” he softly speaks, his eyes soft and his touch delicate over your fragile skin. You look up to him with a layer of tears glazed in your eyes, fear hidden deep within your orbs. Theo never looks away when taking your pain. As you start to feel it going away, your eyes soften slightly, guilt clouding your conscience after remembering what you said to Theo. ‘Clearly he’s not what they paint him to be’ you think to yourself.

“You have to care, to take pain away...” your voice is shaky, wobbly. As you bring your legs together, Theo gives you a small smile, as he still holds your hands after taking your pain.

“Of course i care...i can tell you do to” he simply replies, looking down at the ground. His soft, silky hair flops with his gaze, covering part of his forehead. All you want to do is run your fingers through his perfect head of hair, feel it through your fingertips and put your hands on his cheeks...

“But you don’t know me?” You whisper, as you reach forward and place your fingers on the side of his head. He leans into your touch, replying “i just feel like i know you, already”

He brings his hand to yours on his cheek, lacing your fingers in his

“I’m really sorry for...for everything i said earlier” you hiccup quietly “it’s just i thought you were this big bad guy that everyone says you are...” your words trail off as you glance away to the side, thinking of why Theo was being so nice to you “...Hell changed you...didn’t it?” You mention, your voice barely above a whisper. Theo grunts at your words, flinching at the thought of what he went through down there.

“It would change anyone” his eyes welled with tears as he chewed on his lower lip. A sob leaves your lips as you realise what torture he must have gone through, seeing the genuine look of hurt and pain in his expressions. It makes you want to just hug him and never let go...

“...no one’s seen this side to you, have they?” you lift his head up by placing your fingers on his chin. His head is heavy, tears now streaming down his face as memories are recapped in his wracked brain. You bring both hands to wipe away his tears, sobs quietly leaving his mouth.

“No...” he begins, choking up. You pull him into your body, hugging him tightly, rocking sideways in a way of comforting him. He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter and burying his head in the crook of your neck. You both stay like this for a while, as your hand rubs his back softly and the other hand runs through his hair.

Everyone had no problem telling the bad side of Theo Raeken’s story, but they seemed to have missed out the path of redemption. The path Theo wanted to take, and with your help, he would stick to. For this, you felt anger unlike anything before, for he was a boy who made mistakes. Hell, you’ve made mistakes before...but everyone deserves the right to prove their redemption - to make things right...and Theo Raeken...was never given that opportunity.

Slowly sitting up, he wipes the rest of his face of tears, resting his back against the wall of the clinic. He never expected to meet you, and like you. He’d heard things about you, much like how you heard things about him, but he never saw sympathy as one of your qualities...especially sympathy towards him. You release him from your touch, about to get up, until he grabs your hand back in his.

“Please, don’t leave me Y/N” he begs, his state so fragile and broken. As his soft fingers lace around your own, you obey his wishes and sit back next to him, intertwining your fingers together. He turns towards you, a sweet smile on his face, his red bloodshot eyes tired. You lean your head on his broad shoulder, and just sit with him. He leans his head on your head, his breathing calming. It’s almost like you two are each other’s anchors...but it’s impossible - you don’t know each other...not really?

“Do you believe in people being anchors?” You whisper. Theo adjusts himself closer to your body, instantly creating more heat between you two

“I guess...Liam’s is Hayden. When she left, he really struggled. He still does” he hums. It gets you thinking...you never really had an anchor. You only had Jackson and Ethan telling you this motto “the sun, the moon, the truth” to help control yourself, but most of the time it never worked...

“Wait” you gasp, starting to get fidgety and panic setting in your heart “where are Jackson and Ethan? They were in the car and i left them. I left them, Theo” you turn to him with tears settling in your eyes, your face growing paler through panic. Theo quickly grabs your shoulders to steady yourself, pushing your hair behind your ears, out of your face

“Hey, hey Y/N it’s okay - they’re safe. I got to them, too. They’re with Scott and the others.” He reassures you, rubbing your arms. “It’s okay, breathe. Just breathe, you’re okay”.

“I can’t lose them, they’re all i have” you whimper, Theo strokes your cheek with thumb, pulling you into his chest.

“You have me” he whispers, making you look up at him in adoration. You two had met a couple of hours ago and it already feels like you’ve fallen for him...only he felt the same way. It’s like you two were each other’s soulmate, and that everything feels safe and okay when you’re with each other.

“I feel like...and please don’t think i’m crazy-“ you blurt out, hand on Theo’s chest “-but i feel like you’re my anchor...”

Theo smiles at your words and leans forward, crashing his lips into yours with pure desire and passion. You return the kiss by moving your lips sweetly along with his, hands roaming everywhere on each other’s bodies. Sparks run through your body and burst into fireworks as the kiss deepens. Theo places his hand on the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his lips. Your fingers trace through his hair, tugging at times. Your urge to rip each other’s clothes off increases, as Theo gets slightly aggressive in the kiss, his hands leaving imprints in your skin and biting your lip. Your breath is rigid, wanting more and more. Suddenly, the lights flicker and the sound of a door creaking open breaks the connection between you and Theo, as Jackson and Ethan walk through the door. You and Theo freeze in your position of tops half off, Theo on top of you, his hair an absolute mess and your hair tangled around your neck in sweat

“I knew it!” Jackson cackles, clapping his hands together as Ethan stares at him in annoyance. He reaches into his pocket and places a 10 dollar bill in Jackson’s hand, who smirks and kisses his teeth

“-woah woah you guys BET on this happening?” You gasp, pushing Theo off you enough so you could sit up

“No, we bet that you’d like him...we didn’t bet that you guys would actually click like that” Ethan replies, shrugging.

“Okay i love you guys but...get out.” You scowl, staring at the two men in front of the door

“Y/N we didn’t me-“ Jackson starts

“GET OUT” you flash your eyes, causing the two men to dash out of the room sniggering like two school girls. You flop back on the floor, smirking towards Theo, who climbs back on top of you, about to press his lips to yours once again

“What actually happened he-“ Ethan’s head pops behind the door frame

“GET OUT”

Hope you guys like this! Let me know if you want a part 2 or any other Teen Wolf requests! Xo

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Inhuman (3)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS season 2 spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3800

A/N: My HS German teacher would be so disappointed to discover I used Google Translate. I also actually researched WWII med kits for this.

[New York, New York, March 2024]

You sat at your kitchen counter and admired the ruby ring on your finger. Max had gotten half of what he had pillaged from Anderson’s home, you had even let him have first choice. He also got a third of the million dollars you had earned for the death of Morano. You had also given Izzy one fourth of the million for her troubles.

“What’s next?” Max asked from your couch.

“Nothing.” You stood up and joined your friend on the couches.

“Bitch, what are you saying?” He raised an eyebrow at you. Today’s theme was gold. When he had walked into your apartment, he held up one manicured nail as a warning before you could say anything. “We just had a great haul and you wanna stop before we really get the ball rolling?”

“The Avengers got involved,” you pointed out. “I am not dealing with them.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“They’re heroes set on ridding the world of evil and we literally fucking kill people for a living.”

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you’re not just avoiding someone?” Max laughed.

“I’m sure,” you said with a glare but Max only laughed harder. “What I’m avoiding— Max, shut up. What I’m fucking avoiding is being thrown in jail or even death. You just want to be caught so that you can shoot your shot with a supersoldier.”

“Or the God of Thunder.” He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes. “What if we could be in-laws!” You rolled your eyes and suppressed a smirk. “Hmm. Imagine being dicked down by a god. Well, I doubt you have to imagine.”

“Shut.” You picked up a pillow. “The.” You smacked Max. “Fuck.” Smack! “Up.” Smack!

“How was it? Tell me everything.” He escaped to the loveseat and composed himself.

“Get your fuckin’ head out of the gutter, Max. It was back in the 1500s and I was a princess and princesses don’t just go around getting ‘dicked down’ as you so nicely put it.”

“Damn, sometimes I forget that you were literally the Queen of fucking England.” He cocked his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to see Loki again? From what you told me it sounded like you really loved him and he loved you.”

“I-I never said it, though.” It was true. You loved Loki. You still love Loki. Did he love you too? You were soulmates and you were made for each other, but it had been four hundred and eight-six shitty years since he had last seen you. “Not to mention the awkward situation of having to explain why I’m still alive.”

“Um, that’s easy,” Max said. “It’s just, ‘Oh, Loki,’” he mimicked your voice. “‘It’s me, (Y/N), the one and only love of your life. Surprise! I’m still alive.’”

“That’s not how I sound.” But you couldn’t hide your grin.

“‘I am an Inhuman whose power is to look pretty and live forever.’”

“Your power is very obviously not mimicry.”

“See? Easy,” Max smirked. “I give you full permission to plagiarize my speech.”

“Nuh uh. It’s not plagiarism if I pay you to write my speeches.”

“Honey, what speeches are you making?”

Before you could respond, your phone started ringing. Hardly anyone called you. Could it be the Avengers? It couldn’t be, no matter how good Stark’s AI was. Max was also giving your phone a strange look. Your curiosity got the best of you and you answered.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? Oh, my god. Listen I know you said only to call if it’s an emergency, but it’s an emergency,” the person on the other side spoke quickly.

“Wait, wait. Arthur, is that you?” Arthur was your man up in Michigan with the ability to generate light.

“Yes, it’s Arthur. I’m calling because the Avengers showed up at my last job. I barely managed to get a picture and get out. I might have blinded the Scarlet Witch!”

“She’ll be okay. Hey, man. How about you lay low for a while. Spread the word for others to do the same.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

“Stay safe, Arthur,” you parted.

“What happened?” Max asked.

You told him everything. “We have a technokeniser nearby, don't we?”

🌹

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the night time New York skyline twinkling behind you. You wore nothing but your undergarments, but your black stealth suit was waiting for you on your bed. Your skin was smooth and unblemished thanks to your accelerated cell healing. Everything was perfect except for the single, one-inch scar directly above your left knee.

Apparently, vibranium was your weakness. It didn’t bother you because everyone had to have a weakness. Thankfully, it was a rare metal on Earth. Your cells repaired themselves slowly like a normal human when it came to injuries dealt with vibranium. You had learned that the hard way.

[Austria 1944]

You were in central Austria for two weeks while things back in New York calmed down. It turned out that the man you had strangled three days ago was a low ranking member of the local mafia. Because the man wasn’t that important, they would, hopefully, move on quickly and you could safely resume your contract killings.

It was a beautiful place, with many trees that were changing with the season and beautiful lush mountains. Just a few days after you had arrived, Captain America and the Howling Commandos rolled into town. People cheered and it almost felt like a parade.

You had heard of them of course, going around Europe dismantling the Nazi organization called Hydra. You walked through town, dress swishing around your calves and hair pinned in the latest style. You looked like the stereotypical rich American girl. Your favorite heels clicked along the cobblestone road as you windowshopped.

“Guten Tag Fräulein,” a young man winked at you as he leaned against a wall. “Du siehst wunderschön aus, aber du würdest noch besser aussehen wenn—”

His words stopped when your fist slammed into his face, your ring cutting his cheek. You were not in the fucking mood to be catcalled today. You were never in the mood to be catcalled.

“Du verdienst das,” another male voice said behind you.

You turned around and your eyes widened when you saw one of the Howling Commandos standing there. More specifically, James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend from Brooklyn.

“Bist du in Ord-Ordnung?” he stumbled over the word.

“I didn’t know you could speak German,” you smirked and continued your stroll through town. “Not the best at it, though.”

“Oh, you’re American!” He fell into step next to you. From the twenty-some years you had lived in New York growing your business, you had lost your accent.

“I suppose,” you said vaguely.

“We kinda need to know some German if we’re going to be intercepting Nazi communications,” he explained and rubbed the back of his head. “They usually don’t ask if everyone’s alright, so I don’t really know the phrase.”

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

“Bist du in Ordung?” he tried and you chuckled.

“Ord-nung,” you drew out the syllables.

“Ordnung.”

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

“That’s better,” you smiled. “You’ll be sweeping girls off their feet with your German in no time Sergent.”

“This may be a bit forward,” he said slowly and you raised your eyebrows. “But… Do you want to see the shield? Considering you’re American and all that. Girls always want to see Captain America’s shield.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m like them.” You brought a finger up to your chin and pretended to think. “But my answer is yes. I would like to see the shield.”

He grinned and led you to the edge of the forest. You held nothing against forests, but they always reminded you of Loki. They reminded you of the days long ago when he actually was there for you. When he cared about you. When you hesitated before going under the cover of trees, Barnes gave you a strange look.

“Just a bit suspicious,” you lied. “Leadin’ a sweet little dame like me into a mysterious forest mere minutes after you met me?”

“Based on what I saw back there, you can handle yourself. If anythin’, I’m worried ‘bout myself. The rest of the Commandos are within shouting distance so don’t you try anything,” he said with a laugh.

You joined in and you two walked deeper into the forest. Sure enough, the sounds of boisterous laughter and cheers reached your ears. Captain America and the Howling Commandos sat around a small clearing. When you said ‘small clearing’ you meant small. Like a circle with a three-meter radius small.

“Who do you have there, Buck?” a tall blond asked. It took you a moment to realize that he was Captain America. You almost didn’t recognize him without his helmet.

“Fellas, this is… Do I know your name?” The Howling Commandos lived up to their names and began to howl with laughter.

“You can call me (Y/N),” you laughed. “James saw me punch a guy and invited me to check out Captain America’s shield.”

“What’s a nice American dame doin’ all the way in Austria?” a man with a prominent mustache asked. Dum Dum Dougan.

“Hiding.”

“So you wanted to see the shield?” Jim Morita asked.

“That would be nice.” A look passed around the group. “I’m not going to steal it,” you scoffed. “Even if that was my intention, I’m wearing heels.” Another look went around.

“Be careful,” the Captain handed the red, white, and blue shield to you. “Buck, can I talk to you?” He and Barnes walked away and with your enhanced hearing, you briefly heard, “-can’t just bring over any dame…”

You smirked and examined the shield. Vibranium, the metal was called. It was strange how light it actually was. Once you finished, you looked up at the remaining Commandos who were staring at you.

“Do you know any tricks?”

Gabe Jones eagerly raised his hand and you passed him the shield. The other men quickly scrambled away. Jones threw the shield like a frisbee and it rebounded off of a tree with surprising speed, the dark-skinned man barely caught it.

“That was pretty good, eh?” he asked the group.

“Au moins, cela n'a touché personne cette fois,” Jacques Dernier spoke in quick French. At least you didn’t hit anyone this time. Jones groaned and you hid your smirk.

“I have a trick,” James Montgomery Falsworth said.

He took the shield from Jones and everyone took another step backward. Falsworth noticed this and rolled his eyes. He roughly threw the shield in the air with a flick of his wrist that gave it a spin. You guessed he wanted it to bounce back to him, but the shield hit a rock and veered off course.

Instead of returning to Falsworth’s hand, it flew at you. The vibranium hit your left leg above your knee through your dress. How sharp was the shield because it actually cut your leg. You could already see some blood seep into the dress.

“Oh fuck! I mean gosh darn it!” Dougan cried and helped you stay on your feet.

“I didn’t— I’m so sorry,” Falsworth stuttered in his British accent. “Are you okay?”

If only he knew that he had hit one of his former Queens. The thought made you laugh through the stinging pain in your leg. You shifted your weight onto your right leg.

“I’m fine,” you said in between short bursts of giggles. It wasn’t that funny. Anyways, the wound would heal soon.

“What happened?” Captain America and Barnes returned to the group.

“Uh—”

“Er—”

“Um—”

“The shield hit my leg,” you said and motioned to the small bit of blood on your dress. “I’m fine though.”

“We were only gone for two minutes.” The Captain looked at the Commandos.

“They just wanted to show off for a pretty dame,” Barnes winked at you.

“I told you guys to be careful,” the Captain sighed. “Come with me, ma’am, and I can help you clean up.”

Small wounds like these would usually be healed by now so you were about to tell him that you can handle it yourself but you could still feel the sting of the cut. You nodded and accepted his invitation. You walked over to him and he put an arm around you to help you support your weight.

He brought you to a house on the edge of the forest. Rows of cots covered the ground. A table with a map stood in the back. Men’s clothes and trinkets laid around the room. The Captain led you to one cot and pulled out a small first aid kit from underneath.

You rolled your skirt up just until the wound was visible. It was about two and a half centimeters long, but it was a bit deeper than you expected. The Captain pulled out a small tin box that read ‘Iodine Swabs.’ He removed one of the swabs and began to clean around your wound.

“I don’t know how this could have happened,” he said. You realized he was trying to avoid touching you.

“You can touch me. I don’t mind.” He nodded and the process went faster. “And don’t worry about the shield.”

“It shouldn’t be able to cut skin like this.” He moved onto the hydrogen peroxide and dampened a cotton pad with the solution.

“It was spinning. Maybe that had something to do with it?” Another question, a more important question was why weren’t you healed yet?

“Maybe.” Then he began to profusely apologize when you hissed the moment the hydrogen peroxide touched your wound. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” you laugh lightly. “And just call me (Y/N).”

“Alright, (Y/N).” He wrapped your injury and gave you a kind smile. “Then you can call me Steve.”

“First name basis with Captain America, huh?”

🌹

Your phone read 2:47 as your silver Porsche 911 rolled to a silent stop with its headlights off. The Avengers compound was about a mile up the road. Liam, with his technokinesis, managed to get you this close, but now you had to leave the safety of the car. You crept through the woods, Max and Liam close behind you.

Liam just wore black jeans and a black leather jacket. He also had a black bandana around his head, again, courtesy of Max. Max also wore a similar leather jacket and bandana as well as black leather pants and a cape. He had shown you his Captain America shirt underneath the jacket, you know, ‘just in case.’ You were in a fucking normal skintight stealth suit.

“What if we get lost?” Liam whispered.

“We won’t,” you said. There was a force pulling you in the right direction. You could feel the familiar aura Loki’s presence grow stronger as you neared the compound. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t because of the current mission. Could he feel you too?

Fifteen minutes later, the Avengers compound came into view. Fortunately, Liam didn’t need a computer to do his work. Stark was so fucking tech savvy that all Liam needed was to get inside. He didn’t need any help to do that either, easily disabling the electronic locks. Honestly, you and Max were just there for protection. Max took watch outside while you stayed with Liam inside.

“You know what to do?” you asked and kept your eyes fixed on the dark hallway.

“Yeah,” he placed his hand on the wall and closed his eyes. Glowing blue lines that resembled a circuit board grew from his hand. “First delete everything they have on us. Then, if there’s time, scramble everything else.”

“How long is it going to take?”

“Not too long. Maybe ten to fifteen minutes?”

This was the closest you’ve been to Loki since 2012. Maybe the closest you’ve been to him since 1538. What was he doing right now? Was he sleeping? Would your presence wake him up? If you could just…

“Where are you going?” Liam’s words shook you out of your head.

Where were you going? To your soulmate, probably. You were five feet away from where you stood before your mind was consumed by the thought of Loki.

The distraction had consequences when Max’s shout of surprise made you look back just in time to see your friend doge a blast from Iron Man. A small sound from the end of the hall caused you to whirl back around. You ducked, barely missing being decapitated by Captain America’s shield and you knew you wouldn’t heal from that.

“Fuck.” You pulled out a gun as the shield returned to its owner. “How much time do you need?” You fired twice down the hall and saw two sets of sparks where the bullets met the vibranium shield. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and saw your opponent.

“Just give me two minutes.”

Liam opened his eyes and clenched his fist at the flying billionaire outside. The Iron Man suit’s eyes dimmed and it fell to the ground. That left Max to deal with the Black Widow who was doing well on Max’s ice-like surface.

You went to meet the Captain in the dim hallway. You landed a quick hit on him before he could react. Instead of raising his shield, he pushed it into your chest, shoving you back. He moved forward and you dodged his punch. You went to punch Steve’s head again and this time he raised his shield. When he did, you used your other hand to punch him in the stomach. Hard. He bent over slightly and you took the opportunity to sweep his feet out from under him. You noticed something…

Shit, was Loki getting closer? You could feel the link grow stronger.

Steve used his shield to sweep your feet out from under you this time. You landed on your back which knocked the breath out of you. To recover, you took a deep breath while Steve pinned you to the ground. He was about to hit your face but you managed to catch his fist. Using his momentum, you forced his fist down to the side of your face, throwing him off balance. You flipped him over and now you were on top.

“Ma’am, we can work this out,” he said. Captain America, always the diplomat.

“I thought we were on a first name basis, Steve,” you smirked and you could pinpoint the moment realization set in. Using his distracted state, you grabbed his shield and slammed it into the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.

“We’re good to go,” Liam called. Just in time because Loki was definitely coming.

You stood up and took an involuntary step in the wrong direction. In the direction Loki was. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. Come on, (Y/N). Go the other way. Finally, your body listened to you and you ran out the doors.

“You deleted the security footage of tonight too, right?” you asked Liam as you ran.

“Yes, I got that too.”

Max saw the two of you and joined you, leaving the Black Widow on the unnaturally smooth grass. You passed the Iron Man suit that was laying on its back. Wait, was the Stark asshole still in there? Yes, you could hear faint complaining coming from the suit.

You felt the ground under you change to feel springier like a track, no doubt Max’s doing. The three of you made it back to the car within seven minutes, all of you out of breath with you less so than the two men.

You started your car and sped down the road. Max and Liam collapsed in the back.

“Man, that was awesome what you did to Iron Man,” Max laughed.

“Nah, you were great against the Black Widow. Not everyone gets away with just a black eye and cut lip.”

“And bruised ribs and missing a cape.”

The two men laughed in the backseat as the adrenaline wore off but your tight grip on the steering wheel didn’t relax until the feeling of Loki was gone.

🌹

Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Thor, and Brunnhilde were immediately called to the conference rooms when they returned from Michigan. Steve quickly found Bucky by the hanger. The metal armed supersoldier noticed that his blond friend was in uniform and had a couple faint bruises on his face.

“What the fuck happ—”

“Do you remember being in Austria in 1944?” Steve cut him off.

“Those were pretty busy years, pal. We were all over the fuckin’ place.”

“Do you remember a girl? You said she punched some Austrian guy in the face for catcalling her. You brought her to meet the Commandos and Falsworth hit her with my shield? Her name was (Y/N).”

“Um, yeah, I think I remember. She taught me some German.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Why are you askin’?”

“She was here and it was like she hadn’t aged a day,” Steve said and gauged his friend’s reaction. “She was actually the one to…” he gestured at his bruised face.

“So what actually happened?” They walked into the conference room.

“Short story?” Tony asked. A blind man would have been able to tell that the billionaire was furious. “Three fucking people broke into the fucking compound and fucking deleted the files I had created for the fucking white rose assassins case.” He slammed his fist on the table each time he swore.

“What do we have?” Sam asked. “‘Cause we got nothin’ from Michigan.”

“Yeah.” Wanda put her head on the table. “Just blinded.”

“Three people,” Steve repeated. “Two men and one woman, all enhanced. against me, Nat, and Tony. Clint is still benched.”

“Where were you, brother?” Thor looked at Loki.

“I was distracted about something else,” he stated

Loki thought about what had happened during the attack. He had sensed her. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Something had been trying to pull him somewhere. When he finally gave in, the feeling had led him to find an unconscious Captain and Stark trapped in his own suit. The tugging had faded then and the attackers were nowhere to be found.

“The woman,” Steve continued. “I think she was the same one from the cafe.”

“She has to be at the head of this thing,” Nat said.

Loki had thought the woman in the video had reminded him of (Y/N).

“I met her before.” Everyone looked at Steve.

“We both did,” Bucky added. “In Austria back during the war.”

“And she hasn’t aged a day. She referenced something she said when we met. I know it was her. I never forget anything.”

The God of Mischief’s heart missed a beat. Was it possible for the woman to be older than they thought? All signs were pointing at (Y/N). The woman’s familiarity. The strange tugging. The long life.

“What does this mean?” Clint asked.

“We don’t know.”

*

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Tags: @kaithehero @liliannyah @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury @aberrant-annie @simplybree @adalina-perez @emage-king @yandereforyou @notactiveonmain @tvdplusriverdale