#i refuse to add more tags here let the fates decide

[ligayangluntian]

waow,,,, yaoi,,,,

“Would you believe me if I said I never truly hated you?”

Evbo stops the little parkour course he's making, looking at him with a raised brow. His tone is appropriately disbelieving when he says, “What?”

[nullcanary]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @wraith-caller for the tag! 🗡️✨

Tagging @chocolatecatcupcakecheese, @minkriseu10, and @plethomacademia and anyone else who wants to join (feel free to tag me so I can cheer you on!)

I've got so many WIPs (holding them like too many limes). Here is an entry I've had sitting for a while, one of the first things I wrote.

Summary: Mormo tries to sacrifice someone who looks like Enver, but takes her time to think about it and finds she has a big problem.

Pairing: Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Rating: M (cw: gore, violence)

Words: 1.3k

Working title: Mechanics of Affection

Gold points faintly traced against her neck as she exited the doorway into the cool night air. The touch was a future beckoning dressed in a goodbye. The light that spilled from the exit was accompanied with warm regards before the door shut, finally leaving Mormo alone with her thoughts. A deep inhale filled her lungs with the sharp chill of evening. The fog of breath swirling with a draw out sigh as she let herself come back into focus.

In these past few weeks, the distractions had grown too numerous to ignore. The Scion of Bhaal had found herself slipping in her duties, and it had not gone unnoticed. What was once a nightly observance had grown now to a full tenday of responsibilities disregarded. A return to form was necessary, a display of red allegiance to her Father.

Stalking back towards the temple, the Bhaalspawn had resolved upon the most suitable offering for her Lord. Something that would prove her standing dedication to the final covenant of her purpose. As she could not yet plunge the dagger directly into the source of her woes, she had instead decided to find one of similar likeness for Father's altar.

"Sceleritas", Mormo called out as she continued her trek back to the sewers. The dreadful butler appeared almost instantly, striding alongside their master.

"How might I finally be of service to you, my fearsome Liege?", the fiend wryly offered.

"I need you to find someone of very specific bearing for me tonight. I'll add that I can find rabbits ten a copper. Bring me back something that bites", she threatened, “and… administer a weaker paralytic.”

"Of course, my most wicked one. Nothing else need be mentioned. It shall be done." With a whip crack of the air, he was gone as instantly as he had appeared.

And so it was in the temple that she found him, a suitable stand-in. He writhed on the temple ground as she strode in, struggling against the rope bindings and burlap sack pulled over his head. The muffled shouts that rose up from the figure indicated that he had been gagged as well.

The urgent need curled in Mormo's stomach as she strode towards her prey. Ripping off the burlap sack from his head revealed just how uncanny of a match they had found. A mess of black hair, a strong Calimshan jaw, and a set of dark eyes filled with a wild, wicked hatred. 

He clawed at her skin as he was forced down onto the stone, violently twisting his body and kicking out against the force that was pushing him into the altar. Mormo relished the fact that he had refused to go down easily. Still, his strength was nothing compared to the Bhaalspawn. With him snarling and snapping like a trapped beast, she wasted no time, holding the man down and slicing him open. The ensuing loss of blood made the man even weaker to his fate, yet the palpable odium that exuded from his glare weaved the Urge's fantasy further. A more fearful creature would have struck her as tasteless, poisoning the illusion of the imitation. She set to work -- savoring and studying. Searching for some satisfaction in the labor.

There he lay, alive: skin peeled back, thoracic cage broken away, his own innards decorating the stone bed like garlands. Mormo thought briefly of a wedding night bed... The swell of his unveiled lungs grew shallower with blood loss and his quivering heart beating freely against the humid temple air. She stared down at the man, noting to herself that she was typically more efficient in her brutality, but this sacrifice lay here more like a work of their sister.

His overgrown black hair clung to his forehead, soaked with sweat and blood. His dark rimmed eyes were filled with venom and contempt. His lips curled back, displaying clenched teeth and a fighting spirit. Mormo had decided to forgo administering the usual paralytics for scrutiny. She had wanted to observe the limits of his struggle against a weaker potion, to indulge in his reactions and to see how long this one would fight before being claimed by the glut of their god.

There was a purpose to this method. She needed this one alive and awake. To witness and be witnessed. To resist and succumb without surrender. There was a need to revel in the organic machinery that makes one pulse and fight and flee. Something that makes the process of worship mean so much more than simply the gore, the desecration. To fully observe that which she extinguishes and rends from existence.

On top of showing devotion, a curiosity had struck with this one. Wanting to see the inner workings of him ticking and whirring like the Steel Watch of that Banite he held so much likeness towards. As she stared down at the pulsing vitals, she found herself drawn to the beauty of the facsimile and yet resisting against a repulsion towards its design. Placing a hand over her own chest, she noted the respiratory and cardiac coherence of her own mechanics with what lay in front of her.

"You're a sick bastard! You and your kind will all burn", the man manages to snarl out before spitting blood at her. That must have been the reserve of his strength, for he weakly sunk back onto the stone with a bitter expression. The red warmth had landed on her cheek, sliding down like a pious tear before the Chosen reached a hand towards the open cavity of his chest. She caressed the man's thrumming heart and watched as he angrily cringed, hissing and cursing through gritted teeth. 

Lifting the same fingers back up to her own lips, Mormo savored the taste of the man's blood. Would this be how Enver's hatred tasted, like salt and filigreed copper? Would he taste, too, of bitter beginnings? Those tainted by leather and brimstone? Would this be how his heart would feel in those final throes and thrashes? The first and last time anyone would ever truly caress the wicked thing. 

Her stomach twisted at that final thought, though the Bhaalspawn couldn't quite distinguish if she was reaching a point of satisfaction or revulsion.

"Oh, this truly is a test of my mettle", she breathed out.

Mormo then felt the eyes of her god descend and thus brought her hand back to the pulsing heart, gently squeezing until she felt the muscle struggle back against the pressure with each pump. The man growled violently with each breath, weakly struggling against the misfortune of his torture, yet it was only moments before the essence began to fade from his body. His furious eyes never drifted from Mormo's though. The look resonated with an unspoken curse, vile and pitch. If not for the divine protection of her Father, she might have felt concern.

She lingered a moment. With the imminant flick of the wrist, she would pen another name to Jergal's record -- an expert signature written in blood. She sought to behold the moment the ink stained the page. Yet for the first time she realized, she was also seeking something for herself in this votive offering: resolve.

Resolve to carry through with what must be done when their gods collective goal has been reached. For all the admiration felt towards the pattering apparatus in hand, Mormo had clashed against a foreign resistance when it came to thoughts of stilling the Black Hand's heart. A senseless notion that went against everything she had devoted herself towards, that she had been created for. A sense of…loss? At the thought of extinguishing such a brilliant mind. A constant companion. Dare she admit it but, a friend…

[angsty-prompt-hole]

[IMAGE ID: A picture of some pine trees against a cloudy sky overlaid by a film distortion filter. At the top in black text it says “Writeblr Intro”. White text goes down the left side of the image that says “Horror! Urban Fantasy! Sci-Fi! Everything is Connected!” On the right side there is an orange symbol. The symbol is a V with a horizontal line bisecting it a little over halfway down. Both sides of the line extend beyond the body of the V. Another line starts at the left end of the horizontal line and moves up and to the right diagonally, intersecting the left side of the V and ending roughly even with the vertical center of the V. Between the forks of the V, sitting above the horizontal line and below the diagonal line, is a circle. END ID.]

I decided to make a semi-fancy writeblr intro. I don’t know how to do the fancy fonts and I refuse to learn, but I made a neat graphic and organized stuff a little nicer. I will try and updated the image ID as I find better ways to describe it.

PEN NAME: Creek, or Cass.

BRIEF BIO: I am the Yeehaw Goblin and local cryptid, originally from Wyoming, now living in an undisclosed liminal space in the woods somewhere. I am an adult with an interest in wildlife biology and management and a severe hyperfixation on horror movies, heavy metal music, alternate reality games/unfiction, and Wyoming history. None of this knowledge is very useful in my real life, but it sure does help me make weird stories on the internet.

GENRES: Horror, Urban Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Unfiction (see @creek-cryptic​ for more information on unfiction and my unfiction project).

COMMON THEMES: Fate, destiny, control, persevering in the face of great darkness, the relationship between man and nature, the importance of connections, explorations of the grotesque shapes that grief and trauma can take, what it means to be human, explorations of what it means to be an outcast.

RATINGS AND WARNINGS: I write for adults, typically new adults, so there will be adult themes in most of my work, and all works are rated R for any combination of the following: language, body horror, cosmic horror, unreality, gore, abuse, self-harm, suicide, and sometimes cannibalism. If there is something that I don’t tag that you need tagged, please let me know.

CURRENT WIPS: See here for a complete list and links to WIP intros (mobile friendly version here). Intros are a work in progress. Ask to be added to/removed from taglists, or fill out the form linked here. Links to the stories themselves will be linked in their WIP intros as I start posting them.

              FANWORKS: I also write fanfiction alongside my original works because I get super bad brainrot sometimes. You can view a complete list of those works here (mobile friendly version here). I don’t do taglists for these, but I will be posting all of them on AO3 if you want to keep track of them. Feel free to ask about these though! I am more than happy to talk about them.

CHARACTERS: See here for links to character intros (mobile friendly version here). Characters are usually grouped together for easier reading and organization. The WIP they belong to will be listed at the top of their introduction. Introductions are a work in progress and I sometimes update them with new character references or information.

              ROPLEPLAY CHARACTERS: Some of my characters inhabit a universe I share with some friends of mine. Those friends frequently add on to my posts about those characters, and sometimes background on their characters is necessary to have context for some of my characters. There are over ten of them so I will not tag them all, but be aware that they do invade my blog and add on to my stuff.

TAG GAMES: Tag game friendly. I welcome and encourage people to tag me in stuff if they so desire.

OTHER INFORMATION: I am pretty laid back on this blog, but I will not talk politics, engage with hateful or disrespectful people, or tolerate any general asshole behavior.

Please do not provide critique on my writing unless I explicitly ask for it.

I enjoy whump content and frequently reblog it/create it. Would not recommend following if you do not enjoy that sort of content.

[riacte]

Dogwarts / 3rd Life Cheat Sheet for MCC 15 Purple Pandas

Ren and Martyn were buddies in Season 1 of the 3rd Life SMP and they are an alliance known as the Renchanting duo/ Kingdom of Dogwarts. Now they’re finally teamed up, and the 3rd Life SMP members have a habit of referring to 3rd Life in MCC. The Ren-Martyn fandom also talks about Dogwarts a lot. If you have no idea what is a Dogwarts and why people love them, no fear! This post will try to explain it in simple terms.

3rd Life SMP is a SMP started by Grian. Season 1 has 14 members (roughly half are hermits, other half are friends of the hermits. You can find the full list in the description of Ren’s 3rd Life videos.) Everyone on the server has three lives— the first life symbolised by green names, second by yellow names, third by red names. If you lose all three lives, you permadie. Green names and yellow names are not allowed to be hostile unless they were attacked first, but the goal of red names is to kill everyone on the server. The three lives are also symbolised by three hearts, like this:

(Fun fact: Because of the green-yellow-red colours, the subtwt for 3rd Life is called traffictwt after traffic lights. The 3rd Life tumblr fandom is occasionally referred to as trafficblr.)

3rd Lifers record every week for three hours at the same time with proximity chat. The server has a small border to encourage interaction. They are eight sessions in total, and they’re all cut into YouTube episodes (no streams!), so it’s fairly bingeable.

So what’s the deal with Martyn and Ren?

Ren decided to set up an enchanting shop during the first session. Martyn was wandering around and having fun scaring people with creeper noises until he came to Ren’s enchanting shop. Martyn then used Ren’s enchanting service without paying (essentially a robbery), but Ren let Martyn go on the condition Martyn would act as a walking free advertisement. Martyn agreed, and they became business partners. Martyn actually coined the name Renchanting and its motto “Don’t be a Dog, be a God”. Ren named Martyn as his “marketing manager” (which sounds a little like Martynmanager).

True to his word, Martyn went around and spread the good news of Renchanting to everyone. Martyn brought business to Renchanting, and when Ren was being threatened by customers (who harassed Ren into lower his prices/ giving out enchantments for free), Martyn acted defensive of Ren and even said Ren was being “bullied”. Ren was being taken advantage of because he was too nice. (Martyn did do some stuff not related to Ren, but since this is a Dogwarts cheat sheet I won’t be mentioning that.)

Then came GoodTimesWithScar. The main “villain” to Renchanting, if you will.

Basically, Scar was playing the role of a cartoon villain. He scammed people out of their armour and possessions, and eventually found his way to Renchanting. At that point, Martyn and Ren were loyal to each other. Scar asked for Ren’s enchanting table. In return, when Scar turned red, he would not kill Ren and Martyn. Ren appeared to be torn, but due to Martyn depending on him and the business, he refused Scar’s offer (“you can’t take the enchanting out of Renchanting!”). Scar also acted condescending to Martyn (Martyn was seen as Ren’s “minion”). So Ren and Martyn were officially on Scar’s kill list, but Ren did not regret it.

At some point, Ren got tired of people walking into his store and stepping all over him, so he built high walls around the Renchanting building. Everyone (including Renchanting themselves) broke through the walls, and this was a running gag. Ren declared himself king by wearing the crown he got from MCC9 Blue Bats.

Note: Ren was kind, and it was the cruel world that forced Ren to be defensive. Other POVs paint them as the villain but Dogwarts enthusiasts will say that is not the case AT ALL.

Time passed. Scar turned red. He and his buddy Grian set up traps at Renchanting, and one blew up Ren and a bunch of other people. Ren, now a yellow name, was furious, but could not get his revenge because yellow names were not allowed to hurt other players. So naturally, Ren decided to become a red.

Ren renamed an axe to “RED WINTER IS COMING” and gave it to Martyn to chop his head off. (There’s some dramatic roleplay here, highly recommend a watch.) Martyn painfully did, and the message “Red Winter is Coming” was shown in the chat, which told everyone that Ren meant business. To test Martyn’s loyalty, Ren told Martyn he could kill him if he wanted to. Ren, freshly respawned and without armour, punched Martyn. Martyn, as a green name, could attack Ren due to Ren attacking first. However, Martyn did not kill Ren, and dramatically declared Ren was the one who showed him life, and thus he would return the favour.

So Ren was known as the Red King (with grey skin, bloodied MCC crown, and a Scottish/pirate accent). Martyn became known as the King’s Hand, and called Ren “my lord” “my liege”. Later, Martyn acquired an outfit with a cloak and a red hand on the back of the cloak, which is now used to symbolise Martyn.

They established the Kingdom of Dogwarts (after Hogwarts and the enchanting/magic gimmick) to find more allies (notable ones include Ethoslab and Skizzleman). Allies could stick a Red Banner in their base to show loyalty, members were called Red Knights / Red Army.

A Red Banner (the design is supposed to be blood dripping down):

Without spoiling too much, Ren and Martyn remained loyal to each other till the very end. They were very dramatic (even jokingly called homoerotic by some lmao) and had many hardcore quotes, and are highly beloved. They are the most dramatic and RP intensive group on the server. So people want Dogwarts, the king and his hand, together again.

A small sample of quotes that might be referenced:

I think going red next week is in my fate. It’s in my cards. There will be blood, for this. A king cannot be king without war. (Ren)

I won’t do it! You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, goin’ across the lands, searchin’ the four corners of this world. I learned that there was nothing in this world for me. Nothing but walls, corners, edges. And you know what? You showed me life. As much as I’ve taken it from you, you gave it back to me in bucket fulls. and I just- I’m with you. This is us now. This is us. (Martyn)

If we're going to survive the Red Winter, we gotta do it together, laddies. Hand in hand. Rotten hand in hand of the living. To the end! (Ren)

It’s just the world versus us. (Martyn)

(Note: Dogwarts refers to the group of people allied with Ren and Martyn, including Etho and Skizzleman. Renchanting duo refers to Ren and Martyn ONLY)

Other references:

Joel notably screamed “THE RED KING DIES TONIGHT, FELLAS!” with a crowd of wolves following him

Dogwarts killed Grian and Scar’s llama Pizza because Scar stole a Red Banner

Jimmy and Scott were flower husbands. Jimmy thought Renchanting was going to sacrifice Scott.

Everyone else in MCC (Grian, Scott, Jimmy, Joel) were enemies with Dogwarts

The 3rd Lifers reference 3rd Life a lot despite it being over. Martyn even fought for Dogwarts in MCC14 and MCCP but failed. Haha.

The fandom commonly refers to Purple15 as King (Ren), Queen (False), Ace (Illumina), and Joker/Hand (Martyn) after playing cards.

This is it, I am tired, this is probably too long but I feel I skipped a lot of details. If anyone has anything to add or correct, feel free to do so. Also, I’m pretty certain this won’t appear in the tags, so please reblog! Thank you, and Red Winter is Coming.

(I might add a reblog detailing False’s very much fanon involvement in Dogwarts, and why everyone was so hyped for Renchanting + False.)

[wandaromanova]

“And I... Am...” [2]

A Natasha Romanoff x Gn!Avenger!Reader story

warnings: fighting, little bit of violence, angst, death (let me know if i should add any!)

A/N: Ahhh, here’s the final part of this very brief series. i hope you all enjoy and if anyone would like me to write something else my asks are open. thank you for reading! <3

tagging: @username23345

summary: 5 years ago, the avengers lost. half the world may have been taken away, but Y/N’s entire world faded to nothing in their arms. they would do anything to bring everyone back, most especially the love of their life. whatever it takes.

Part 1

Word Count: 3.7K words

(gif is not mine)

5 years. 5 years without seeing her bright, pearly white smile. 5 years without her sarcastic comments and snarky remarks. 5 years without her messy red hair sprawled across her pillow as she sleeps peacefully beside you. 5 years without her warm hugs as her lavender scented perfume invades your senses. 5 years without long nights of cuddling in each other’s arms as you watched the cheesy romcoms of your choice. 5 years without waking up to her playfully kissing your face. 5 years without her standing by your side during missions. 5 years without your little dinner dates that you both decided to go on whenever you both had the time. 5 years without her teasing kisses against your neck that made you laugh as hard as ever before. 5 long, long years without Natasha Romanoff.

Everyday without her was agonizingly slow. Every part of your shared apartment a constant reminder of your failure. Your failure to protect the world, the failure of protecting your world. Natasha always ensured your safety and protection when you needed her most, and the time she needed you; you astronomically failed her. Your heart ached every night as you fell asleep, even more so in the mornings. The mornings were the worst as you would reach over to her side of the bed, expecting to feel her peaceful form breathing steadily next to you, but you are only met with the cold white sheets of your once shared bed. The cold sheets a heartbreaking contrast to her warm body.

You didn’t get a single night of uninterrupted rest, as the memory of Natasha fading to nothing in your arms would replay over and over like a song stuck in your head. You cried the first time you returned home on that fateful day. The walls of your apartment holding the memories of happier times, when she was still alive. Her coffee cup that she never washed and left on the counter every morning still sitting where she left it that very day. You didn’t have the heart to move it. You didn’t dare to move any of her things, leaving them where she had placed them. You wore all of her hoodies though, as they still held her scent. However, you went through all of her hoodies quickly, her scent fading away just like she had. You considered not staying in the apartment, the memory of her making it hard to breathe within the confines of your shared space. But, you didn’t have the heart to leave it either. Leaving your home felt like leaving her, although your true home was her.

You tried to hold out hope though. Every single day you would go to the Avengers Compound and oversee any occurrences. You would communicate with any avengers that were not in New York or simply not on earth such as Captain Marvel, Rocket, Rhodes, and Okoye. You got consumed by your need to compensate for the failure that changed your life and absolutely wrecked your self-esteem. Although you were stuck in the past, some of the other avengers tried to move past it. Tony and Pepper brought a beautiful daughter named Morgan into the world, you were so happy for them, albeit a bit envious. Steve joined a support group, Clint was.... somewhere doing lord knows what. But you remained in the compound, constantly ignoring your own well-being, unable to stomach the failure and desperately trying to find something to hold out hope. However, your stubbornness was not for naught, as one day, while Steve visited you at the Compound, Scott Lang appeared at the front of the Compound. As he explained about Quantum Physics and the possibility of time travel, hope made its way back to you full force. You could all quite possibly make things right again. This spark of hope didn’t ignite within you only, but it also coursed through the remaining avengers when they were informed of the insane, but good idea of time travel.

——————————————————————————

Time travel. That’s our only hope of restoring what used to be. It sounds absolutely insane, but it’s the only option we have. Just the fact that there even is an option, is a miracle. Tony took a little bit of time to be on board with the idea, but he came around and now all the avengers stand together on the platform. Clint and Rhodey were set to go to Vormir. You, Tony, Banner, and Steve were to go to New York. Nebula went to Morag, Thor and Rocket went to Asgard while Scott stayed behind. What felt like hours for the team, was only a minute in real time. As you all made it back to the present, you looked around at the entire team. “Did we get them all?” You turn to your right and look at Banner. “You mean to tell me this actually worked?” You asked with a wide smile. Suddenly, a thud is heard to your left.

The entire team looks at Rhodes, he is soaked and it is then you notice Clint’s absence. “Rhodey? Where’s Clint?” You ask nervously. Rhodes just looks up at the team with sorrow evident in his eyes. The whole room knew what that meant as it fell silent, you dropped to your knees. You were as close to Clint as Nat was, given he was your girlfriend’s best friend. Your soul was absolutely crushed by the news, and the fact that someone would have to tell his family about his sacrifice to bring everyone back was heart crushing. However, Clint’s death only fueled the motivation to get this over with once and for all. No one had time to truly mourn as now that the team retrieved the stones, the stones just needed to be placed into the gauntlet.

However, this was not the hardest part, no. The hardest part was figuring out who should actually snap their fingers. Thor, Tony, and yourself offered to do the snap, but Banner immediately intervened. “It’s gotta be me. You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.” He said solemnly. “How do we know you will?” You asked him seriously. “We don’t, but the radiation is mostly gamma. It’s like, I was made for this.” He finished off, and everyone in the room begrudgingly agreed. Unfortunately, before Banner could even put his hands on the gauntlet, the compound was attacked by a huge explosion, sending everyone flying in different directions, some knocked out by the impact and buried beneath rubble.

——————————————————————————

You wake up with a groan, you entire body is aching. You slowly open your eyes and take in your surrounds. You are buried beneath the concrete of the compound. The once magnificent architectural building, now a destroyed foundation. You look to your right and notice that water is flooding into the area where you, Rhodes, and Rocket are trapped. You noticed that Rocket and Rhodes are both trapped under a piece of cement and you use your powers to lift it off of them before dropping it back onto the ground with a grunt.

You speak into comms, “Is anyone there? We’re trapped and are unable to get out of here. I can hold off the water, but I can’t get us back to the surface.” Your powers are strong, but it will take a great deal of energy to get yourself, Rhodes, and Rocket out of here. You have no clue how deep you guys are below the surface. But you could at least hold off the water until someone is able to save you all. Scott replies and says “I’m on my way, I’ll get you guys.” And you mumble a “thanks” before asking another question, “How on earth did this happen?” you ask this as you use your powers to form some sort of blockade to keep the water from drowning you all. Scott suddenly appears, going back to his regular size and says “Nebula was compromised. You guys better hang onto something,” as he turns into a giant and breaks you all out of the concrete cage you were held in.

As you all return to the surface, Scott places the three of you on the ground. You take notice of the state of Steve, Tony, and Thor. They are badly beaten as Thanos cowers over them. Your eyes widen as you notice the ships approaching behind Thanos, along with his army of thousands. You, Rocket, Rhodey, (and Gamora??) together, ready to attack. You have no time to question Gamora’s sudden seeming resurrection as you notice Banner is the only one missing from the bunch, nowhere to be seen. You turn to everyone as you point at the gauntlet in Gamora’s arms and speak “Protect that gauntlet at all costs, don’t let him get to it. As soon as Banner is spotted, give it to him so he can do the snap and end this, once and for all. Understand?” Everyone nods in acknowledgement at your words.

A sense of deja vu hits you as you turn to face the impending battle. Once again you all are drastically outnumbered, you all must stand and fight against Thanos once more. The only differences being that you all are 5 years older, half of the universe’s population is gone, and Natasha is not by your side. The entire team is angered that this happened in the first place and the desire and will to defeat the mad titan is as strong as its ever been. You all failed to protect the world and your loved ones once, you all refused to lose this battle again. You all have something to fight for. You all attack and after what felt like hours of fighting Thanos’ army, you notice Scott running with the gauntlet, and your eyes widen as Thanos makes his way towards Scott. You quickly throw the enemies you were dealing with, with the flick of your hand and rush for the titan head-on.

Using your vibrant blue powers, you strike Thanos with a powerful beam of energy. Thanos tries to block himself but is a little too late as he’s sent flying back. “You took everything from me.” You say angrily and with a vengeful conviction as your eyes turn blue and your blue powers waver across your hands, levitating you a few feet off the ground. The titan stares at you as he stands and says “I don’t even know who you are.” You look at him and tilt your head, and reply with a dangerous calmness, “You will.” You then end up encasing Thanos, holding him up high in the air, your powers acting as blue hands. You squeeze him with all the strength you can conjure up and start to rip off his armor without laying a finger on him. “Rain fire!” The titan exclaimed to his servant. “But sire, our troops.” “Just do it!” Thanos screams. Unfortunately, you were so caught up in your rage that you failed to notice what Thanos was saying. You were soon knocked out with a powerful blast from a ship above you. Your grip on Thanos no more as you flew across the field and were knocked unconscious.

——————————————————————————

You wake up and groggily try to take in your surroundings. Your entire team beat to the ground. Banner, Scott, and Clint are unconscious, and the rest of the team are too weakened to move. Captain Marvel was also here, when she got here? You have no idea, but that doesn’t matter as she was knocked out as well. However, at least the giant ships and Thanos’ army had been taken out. You guys did impressively well considering how outnumbered you all were. You look away from your battered teammates beside you and you feel panic wash over you. Above you, the massive titan stands, placing the gauntlet on his hand. No. He CANNOT get that gauntlet, you think in a panic. However, your body is too weak to get up, you still try to stand with every ounce of strength that’s left in your body, but to no avail. All of a sudden, you feel a tingling sensation from your hands that you have never felt before.

You look at your hands and notice little sparks of electricity forming. This has never ever happened before, your powers are a dark blue and are more like laser beams than sparks. What is happening? As you stared at your hands, you failed to notice Mjölnir rising beside Thor. Mjölnir abruptly launches itself into your hand, and you suddenly feel a surge of electricity flow through your veins, giving you a spark of energy. The people who are still conscious are shell-shocked as they had all tried and failed to wield the mighty hammer. You yourself had even failed to lift Mjölnir all those years ago before the Ultron situation, but now here you were, worthy and determined to win this battle. As you attempt to stand once more, Thor joyfully exclaims “I knew it!” At Thor’s words, Thanos stomps on Thor, successfully knocking the Asgardian God out cold.

You rise to your feet, the only thing on your mind being that you need to bring Natasha back. You charge at Thanos, rising off the ground as your dark blue powers mixed with the lightning of mjölnir radiate off of you. You struck the titan with a powerful, concentrated hit with Mjölnir before using up the most power you ever have. You manage to do damage to Thanos, but with the gauntlet on he manages to use the stones to fight against your own powers. As he hits you, he fails to notice you exchange the gauntlet with the stones, with another gauntlet that he failed to notice lying on the ground. As your body is flung like a ragdoll across the floor, you look up as Thanos says “I... am inevitable.” And he snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. He, along with everyone else looks confused as he does this. All of them were puzzled, except for you.

You get on your knees and place the real gauntlet on. The energy so powerful as it courses through your veins, it’s an intense burn as if your blood was made of fire, pumping through every part of your body. You look around at the team, the people you have grown to love and call a family. You know that this will be the end of you, but you are content with that. What better way to go than saving the world and bringing the love of your life back? The team seems aware of your fate as well, the sadness evident on the faces of the broken down avengers. It hurt them, but they knew it had to be done. They couldn’t stop you, even if they tried. You already had the gauntlet on and you had made up your mind. After one last glance at your family, you focus back on Thanos, who stares at you in shock. A human wielding the stones, that was a sight for sore eyes. The snap almost killed Thanos the first time, imagine now? You have powers of your own, yes, but you’re still a human. You take a deep breath, your mind is racing as it is taken over by thoughts of Natasha. How you’ll never get to see her red hair and green eyes sparkle again, how you’ll never hear her raspy laugh that warms you up inside, and how you’ll never have the future you both had always wanted together. But you remind yourself that this is all for her, and that was the final push you needed to follow through with this plan.

You stare Thanos dead in the eye again as you shakily say “I... Am...” you envision Natasha and her big bright smile as you finally say “an Avenger.” And with the snap of your fingers, a bright light consumes your body and radiates across the field. All you hear is the ringing in your ears and all you can focus on is the burning of your charred body. The conscious team members gather around you, they are all speaking to you but you can’t fully hear what they’re saying. They sound far away even though they’re right in front of you. You watch as Thanos and his little servants disappear into dust, just like half of the population did 5 years ago. You release a heavy sigh of relief at the sight.

You look back to Steve who’s directly in front of you. He reaches into his pocket and dials a number, and when he turns the phone towards you, you notice the contact name; Natasha. Steve’s eyes widen as the redhead actually answers her phone, it worked. He however, tried to swallow his shock as he let’s her know that you’ll be put on the line. He doesn’t have the heart to inform her of your condition. You use every muscle in your body just to reach out for the phone and grasp it in your hand. “Hello? Y/N, baby?? Where are you?? What happened??” You smile widely at the sound of her deep, raspy voice as your eyes slowly start to close. The team panics as they try to convince you to keep your eyes open just a little longer, Natasha’s voice sounding more concerned and alarmed at the coaxing of the team. We did it, we really did it... she’s okay... it’s okay... is your final thought as your eyes close even further. The darkness is so tempting and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into it, until you’re consumed by it. Never to see the light again.

——————————————————————————

2 weeks later

At your funeral, Nat was suspiciously devoid of emotion as the ceremony commenced. It was so weird for the team to see and they were genuinely worried. Natasha was always sure to not make her emotions known, it’s how she was trained as an assassin, but to show no emotion after losing the love of her life? Definite cause for concern. After the beautiful ceremony and burial, the team all returned to Tony’s cabin, he let the team know that there was something he needed to share with them. Tony stands before the team in his living room and places his iron man helmet on the mantle. He clears his throat before he begins, “Before the time heist, Y/N approached me and asked me a favor. They borrowed my iron man helmet and asked me to play this recording if things went south. So, this is me fulfilling their final wish.”

You appear as a hologram, sitting on a chair in your time heist suit. “So, if you’re watching this.. that means that I’m... yanno” and you make a throat slicing motion with a little laugh. You then realize that the people watching this will most likely not find humor in your little joke and immediately stop laughing. “I hope that in watching this, that means that we succeeded in bringing everyone back. It’s all we have been hoping and praying for, for the past 5 years. And I pray to God... or to Thor... that it worked out.” You actually laugh at your terrible attempt at a joke. Everyone in the room laughs at your corniness with tears in their eyes.

“If we did win, that must mean that you’re here Natasha.” You pause and take a deep breath. At the mention of the redhead, the room falls silent as Nat watches intensely, desperate to hear what you have to say to her. You proceed, your voice wavering as you were overcome with emotion, “I’m so sorry that I had to leave you so soon. I’m so sorry that we’ll never have the chance to get married and have little rascals of our own running around a little farmhouse of our own in the middle of nowhere like we always dreamt of. But, the day you left me, those 5 long years ago, a part of me left with you. And I would do anything to get you back, and I’m sure I’ve proven that to be true if you’re seeing this.” You take another break as your voice starts cracking, as Natasha finally let a tear escape.

You suddenly stand up, and move over to the camera, staring directly into it with an intense gaze. “But Nat, baby, you have to listen to me when i say that this is not the end of the world. It may feel like it, but I promise you it’s not. Those 5 years without you, I felt as though I was drowning in grief and despair, but then hope made its way into my life when Scott suddenly appeared on the steps of the compound. And I promise you that you will have hope again, not for my return, but for happiness in your life again, without me.” At your words, Natasha shakes her head furiously as silent tears steadily fall across her pale cheeks.

You giggle “I know you won’t believe me right now, but you will one day my love. You were wrong that day in Wakanda. You WILL survive this. You must move on eventually, as impossible as it sounds and as much as it kills me to say. Please do not give up on the world, don’t push everyone away, but let them in. I gave my life up so you could live yours, and I know you wouldn’t let my life go to waste.” You stop and look down at your watch. “I have to go now, if this time heist thing goes to plan, then everyone who vanished will return. God, I hope so.... I love you Natalia Alianovna Romanova.” You look down at your hands, and back up at the camera and say your final words.

“Remember...” you begin while moving closer to the helmet, “You could never lose me moya lyubov... I’m yours forever.” You smile tearily and the recording ends. Those last words were what finally did it for Natasha. All the emotion she was keeping bottled up broke loose and she had no control of the wheel of her emotions as she slammed head first into a breakdown. Natasha cried in sorrow as she mourned the possibilities that are no longer possible and screamed out in anguish for the unfulfilled promises of a happy, long life with you by her side.

The world had won, but Natasha had lost her world.

[occasionalsnippets]

Escapism AU (Y/n) & Passione

This is mostly about mc’s interactions with the gang including a bit of La Squadra and Unita Speciale. I’ll probably add more as I think.

Bucciarati’s Gang 

Mc crashes at their house from time to time even though she has her own apartment

This either because she wants to sleep over for fun

Or because she’s finished a mission and their house is closer

Sometimes she shows up at 2 AM and just passes out on their couch

It happens more often than it should

Bruno eventually gives her a copy of the key

She steals food from the fridge too but makes up for it by buying groceries

They leave a toothbrush and cup for her in one of the bathrooms since she comes over so much

Before everyone was recuited, there were extra bedrooms in the house that weren’t being used

They left a guest room for mc but she doesn’t use it all the time, opting to pass out on the couch first

Either Bruno or Abbacchio usually brings her to her room though Abbacchio would never admit to it

Mista draws on her face with marker sometimes but leaves her on the couch most of the time. He can’t ruin her cute face all the time

Narancia cuddles with her on the couch or join Mista in doodling

Fugo leaves her on the couch but gets a blanket and readjusts her position if it’s uncomfortable

However, after Mista got recruited, mc gave up her room so Mista didn’t have to room with anyone

Now, she just sleeps on the couch or whoever’s okay with her borrowing their bed

She has tried several times to get them to wear normal clothes outside (they dressed perfectly normally before joining the mafia!) and only about half those times did it actually work

Mc is strong enough carry everyone in the group bridal style

The only ones who gets particularly mouthy when she does is Abbacchio and Mista but only because Mista wants to carry her too

She joins Fugo, Narancia and Mista in doing stupid things but it’s fun

She knows the torture dance

Mc isn’t technically a part of their team but they consider her to be because of how often she stays over and tags along for missions

She doesn’t expect anyone to really like her the way they do despite how obvious their feelings are

Part of it is because she isn’t supposed to be in this universe in the first place, that she’s an outsider of sorts. She’s here to make sure they don’t die

The other part of it is the guilt of leaving them to die in the first timeline. She feels like she doesn’t deserve how highly they think of her because of how readily she was to let fate run it’s course the first time around, even if they don’t remember it

She’s sooner die then let any of them do the same

Giorno

Mc meets Giorno before he’s recruited into the gang since she does go to the same school as him even though she doesn’t really show up to classes that often

She’s about 2 years older than Giorno

They became friends prior to his hair turning blond and she almost didn’t recognize him but his eyes are rather distinctive

When it did turn blond, mc got a vaguely panicked call in the morning from him saying his hair turned blond for some reason

She’s the first person to braid his hair with the needlessly extra loop at the end after it turned blond

She wasn’t sure how the donuts worked but the next time she saw him he had the signature donut hair so she guessed he figured out how to do it

It becomes routine for her to braid Giorno’s hair when she notices it’s undone

She gave him a crash course on stands when he found out she had one

They spend a lot of time in libraries

Mc insists on paying for food when they get lunch together though Giorno always refuses

I feel like Giorno lowkey craves intimacy?

Mc calls him “GioGio” sometimes

Trish

Hmmmmm, gay

I really like Trish hence why she’s included in the harem

Out of everyone in the gang guarding her, she’s the closest with mc since they’re both girls which is also why Bruno assigns mc to her the most often

Convenient for Trish since it means more time to flirt

Unfortunately, mc does fall under the “are we just being nice to each other or are we flirting” when Trish is just about ready to ask for her hand in marriage

She’s flirting, no doubt

Trish lets mc rest her head on her thighs which mc can confirm is very comfortable

Trish is one of the two people she trusts to do her make up, the other one being Abbacchio

You know that picture where there’s one girl sitting on the other girl doing her makeup

That’s basically Trish and mc

Post-Vento Aureo, they stay in contact and remain good friends as Trish pursues a career as a singer

Narancia

Mc joined Fugo on that walk where they found Narancia in the alleyway so she’s partially responsible for him joining the mafia

They bring him to Libecco where Bruno is and he gets food before going to the hospital to get his eye treated like in canon

She goes shopping with him after he’s out of the hospital

They get normal clothes but the next she sees him, he’s wearing his canon outfit and she wonders why she even bothered with his fashion sense in the first place

She’s the one who buys him his bandana that he wears in his canon outfit

They’re pretty cute together actually

She calls him “Nara” 

While she isn’t available all the time to help Fugo tutor him, when she is around, she tries her best to help

They listen to music together and mc ends up reccomending a lot though some songs haven’t come out yet so she’s only able to play them on her phone

“If I run and jump at (Y/n), she’ll definately catch me!” “Wait, I’m holding a mug-” *Drops the mug and catches Narancia*

Hugs with Narancia often end with his face buried in the crook of her neck

Fugo

Probably the one mc goes with on missions the most

Part of it is because they’re the closest in age prior to everyone else joining, another part is due to mc’s nullifying ability effectively making her immune to Purple Haze’s virus

Mc be like “if I got infected with purple haze’s virus, I would simply become immune. rip to everyone else but I’m different.”

Still, Fugo is still very cautious when it comes to pulling out Purple Haze

Fugo buys her lavender hand lotion once and she decided she liked it so she continued to use it

He sorta associates lavender with mc

Mc buys him strawberry earrings. Sometimes she spontaneously buys stuff that reminds her of him

Fugo isn’t particularily fond of contact (backstory trauma) so mc tries to keep it to a minimum unless he gives an okay

Probably a few missions together where mc saves him, they’re walking down a street together and he just slips his hand into hers

Asadlskjh, I want them to hold hands

When she’s doing school assignments over at the Bucci house, Fugo helps her look over and proofread them despite the fact she has access to the internet through her phone and can search stuff literally from the future (not that he knows). She appreciates the input

I think that after Fugo leaves the group during Vento Aureo, I would like to bring him back somehow before the end of Vento Aureo

Abbacchio

He didn’t like mc at first, no surprises here, but after they went on a few missions together where she saved his life, he begrudgingly opened up

She reminds him of his dead partner due to how reckless she is in saving people

She an idiot but she’s his idiot

He’s likely one of the most worried when she gets hurt since he doesn’t want to lose another person who died protecting him

Abbacchio does come off as very tsundere seeing how prickly he is to everyone except Bruno but everyone except for mc notices that he isn’t that prickly to her either

Mc doesn’t expect him to like her to any degree so whenever anyone points out that he’s nicer to her, she’s like “what?”

They have late night talks a lot

Abbacchio stays up late drinking and mc doesn’t sleep consistently enough

Sometimes they go up to the roof of the house to talk

She has fallen alseep on him multiple times. His tiddies make great pillows. 

Generally, she’s got her head resting on his tiddies, one arm hanging over his body, the other spawled out somewhere. He keeps one arm around her head and the other around her waist

Bruno

Mc with Bruno is oddly domestic?

she helps around the house, buying groceries, helping out in the kitchen and cleaning from time to time

Bruno appreciates it a lot

If Abbacchio and mc have late night talks, Bruno and her have early morning talks when everyone else is asleep and the sun is just barely rising

Bruno keeps telling her it isn’t healthy to sleep only 3 hours so he convinces her to fall asleep for a few more hours

He spoils her a lot and brings her to cafes

Bruno is one of the last people she would expect to like her more than a friend due to the “bruno’s a mom” memes and he’s nice to everyone (almost everyone, excluding ememies), there’s no way he would like her more

Sure, he kisses the crown of her head and the back of her hand from time to time and they cook together

But they’re just good friends, right?

He frequently lectures her on being more careful and not being so reckless

Mista

They discuss weird stuff a lot

The combination of mc’s general knowledge of random things due to the internet and Mista’s bad timing when bringing up topics leads to interesting conversations

Like, your tongue never sits comfortably in your mouth, your skeleton is wet, are you inside your skeleton or is your skeleton inside you?

Mc is always in a constant state of worry when he’s on a mission because his bullets always end up in his own body something

The only reason he isn’t dead yet is because his dumb*ss aura surrounds him

Mc qualifies as a cute girl 11/10

He flirts with her casually and the pistols tell her his thought even when he doesn’t want them to but she never seems to notice

“You’ve been flirting with me?” “Have been for the last year, thanks for noticing.”

Mc gets Mista a gun holster after the events of Vento Aureo because he really shouldn’t be tucking his gun in his pants like that

If someone was really angry, they could lean over and shoot his d*ck off

La Squadra

I sorta debated whether la squadra should be a part of the harem or not but I think mostly no

That’s because I don’t really have an age range for them but Risotto’s like 28 and big age gaps are creepy. So, I guess for some of the la squadra members, it’s up to interpretation whether it’s romantic or platonic. I’m inclined towards platonic though

I’m not sure if I want to save Sorbet and Gelato yet

Mc, of course, goes along for missions as she’s ordered to

La squadra is so broke. Why doesn’t Diavolo pay them more? They literally kill people for their job

Mc doesn’t crash at their house very often but she stops by to hang out and drop off food

She buys them groceries when she notices their fridge is super empty. She doesn’t need them to pay her back (her paycheck is suprisingly big), but they should stop eating takeout all the time

She usually calls Risotto to ask if there’s anything specific they want

She’s rather fond of Pesci. They go fishing together when they have time

Illuso and mc are gossip buddies

Melone gets kink shamed during missions

Ghiaccio and mc have gone ice skating together before

I don’t really have anything else for the others... I’ll think about it

When Vento Aureo begins, mc is trying to save them though she isn’t directly working with them

La Unita Speciale

These are pretty random

Tizano and Squalo are gay, mc was there when they proposed to each other

Mc gets ordered to buy food when they have meetings though it’s pretty rare

When she does show up to drop off food, it’s a constant feeling of “let me leave quicker please” because Cioccolata is freaky

She thinks she runs into Doppio way too often when she’s doing missions

The only good thing about it is that Doppio is pretty nice when Diavolo isn’t kicking about. On one hand, Doppio=nice, on the other Doppio=Diavolo

Mc feeds Secco sugar cubes when Cioccolata isn’t looking

She would not trust Cioccolata to patch up any of her wounds, he’s likely to dissect her

Mc gets missions through calls and emails but sometimes Doppio’s around to tell her what they are 

[osir-ethria]

This is long as I began writing and couldn’t stop but enjoy if you decide to stop and read it.

When team RWBY plus Jaune and Neo return everyone’s gotta be tackling them.

If not tackling then please let it be emotional for the Vacuo survivors. They thought RWBYJ, and Neo but not too emotional for her because she was the enemy but y’know, was dead. I can imagine this.

Nora tackling Jaune, like how she tackled Oscar (the tag says ozcar... Omfg), crying and calling him an idiot while Ren rushes over falling next to them and holding him there with Oscar short after.

Qrow pulls Yang and Ruby into a hug and starts crying which is the first time his nieces have seen him like this. They smile and hug him tighter as he goes off on how he thought no couldn’t handle loosing more people he loved, aka Summer. (I don’t think they had anything romantic I just like to say that they had more of a sibling bond than him and Raven.)

Sun would most likely be there and I’d like to see Ilia there because she witnessed the message that was broadcasted all over the world. She would have found out that Blake’s ‘dead’ but seeing her there would make her happy. Balked would be hugged by both of them as they cry and she’s tearing up happily as she tries to calm them.

Emerald, Ace Ops, Happy Huntresses, team CVFY, and their other found friends in Vacuo would be standing to the side. As well as Winter who’s pulled away because she still blames herself and saw Weiss dissipate into golden light and can’t believe what she’s seeing. She got a little closer as she would but stops herself as she feels undeserving of that affection.

(Or she full on runs to her and pulls her into a huge hug as she breaks down crying but wait I’m not done.)

Whitley full on tackles Weiss, she doesn’t fall but she does lose a little balance. (He isn’t that meaty still but he’d be working on it... I hope.) He’d cling onto his older sister like a life line, crying as Weiss hugs him back. His tears becoming happy as he is reminded of that warmth the first time they hugged. Willow would be right after, remember Winter is still in the background just standing stunned and ashamed, pulling Weiss and Whitley into the most protective motherly hold.

I would say Klein would hug her but I’m sure he’d wait. He was closest to her besides Winter and he knows her boundaries plus Winter hasn’t hugged her yet.

When Weiss realizes that Winter’s warmth isn’t there she lightly pulls away from Willow, still holding Whitley as she looks over to Winter. She can see Winter frozen, paler now than she was in Atlas looking as if she’d seen a ghost. (Now don’t mind me as I add some dialogue and story narration.)

_________

Weiss - “Winter...”

Winter freezes more, sucking in a breath. She remembers the look Weiss is giving her just like the one she had before running from the Academy and being announced as a criminal. Before Atlas fell apart. It was remorseful, full of sadness and pity.

Winter - “Wei-“

She tries to stutter something out but she can’t say it. It doesn’t come out and she feels like she’s breaking. She wishes that she could hide behind a wall but all this time, after losing Weiss she couldn’t put up that barrier anymore unless it was in a battle. She had lost her sister seeing her disappear in front of her, dying but here she was alive. She had gotten lucky but she doesn’t feel like she deserves this, this chance to see Weiss again.

She looks up to see Weiss pull away from Whitley entirely only holding onto his wrist, turning to face Winter. There was no more pity in her eyes, no it wasn’t there to begin with she had just a massive amount of sadness, remorse, something else Winter couldn’t describe. That look however broke Winter. Tears now flowing from the older sister’s eyes still nothing coming out of her mouth. Winter’s vision blurring as she couldn’t concentrate, Weiss becoming a blur and all the prior exhaustion she had from countless nights of ensuring civilians safety was catching up to her.

She could feel gravity weighing on her, then an off balance before she felt gravity take its effect on her entire body. She’s falling now, fatigue finally getting the best of her as she closes her eyes awaiting impact of the rough, sandy, earth of Vacuo... but it never comes at least not entirely. She’s on her knees now being held up by something. Winter doesn’t move for a second before her tired curiosity got the better and she reaches for what’s holding her.

She feels something, something soft, alive. She can hear a beating heart and finally feels the two arms around her back that had been wrapped around her to catch her. Her vision, still slightly blur from the tears, cleared of fatigue and tiredness as she began to address what had caught her. She the blues, pastel lilac, inner red tones, the blues and whites. She see the pale skin and remembers the softness of it every time she had held it. She can see the glint of metal as a familiar sword, one someone was so excited to show her when it had gotten finished as it was a self custom design.

She remembers this warmth that feels like home, calmness, and entire comfort. Her little sister’s touch which had managed to snap her out of rages against their bastard of a father. The one she yearned to feel again after what happened in the other dimensional road way. The warmth she had full freedom to break in but refused as she didn’t want to be veiled as week, but now. Now she wanted to break, to fall apart in her sister’s arms. Apologize for everything, for being so put back, for not following the first second she noticed Ironwood slip, for not catching her when she tried to save her from all other hardships, but it wouldn’t come out.

Instead all she could do was move her arms around Weiss and hold her sister’s warm, blood pumping, heart beating, alive form with distress. Her head still resting a top Weiss chest so she can hear the heart beat bot not in a way that makes it loud and clear or hurts Weiss. Her Ingres tighten around the clothing her sister has on before she starts stuttering out, or attempting to stutter out anything.

Winter - “I-I’m sorry W-Weiss.”

All that’s coming out now are stutters of an apology. Apology for what? The she couldn’t get to her in time? For not being there for her more? Not being as open with her emotions as Weiss was with her? Not telling her what she thought of her little sister and how proud she is of her? Maybe all of those. She can’t say anything else but feels one of Weiss’s hand remove itself from her back which only Winter can reciprocate with clutching Weiss tighter. She feels that hand on her cheek as she’s forced to look up, right at her sister, and into Weiss’ eyes. That sadness still there but there is a smile on her face, an understanding and relief in her eyes.

Weiss - “Don’t be sorry.”

Don’t be sorry? What... why not? Especially after everything that happened. After all the times she’s failed her. Why was she being so forgiving to her? Is all Winter could think of as her jaw clenched, more tears began building, her eyes squinting now at the sun that was so conveniently behind Weiss, outlining her form. She couldn’t deny Weiss’s beauty even when she was younger than this.

Her sister’s hair down and draped over her shoulders, all curled from being in a braid far maybe a little to long. Her scar over her left eye the one she got from father’s test to be allowed to go to Beacon, a smile that radiated warmth and an inward kindness, a softer look in her eyes as they glazed over once again with relief. Winter’s muscles slacked a lot at this view as she remembered all those stories that portrayed stories of beautiful angels sent down to protect and spread wellbeing’s among others. That guardian angel that each individual was to get that would disguise itself and ensure their individual was protect. Now Winter never believed those stories to be true, but she’d couldn’t help but think if her sister was that guardian angel meant to protect her and not the other way around.

She thought for years that she was protecting Weiss but instead she was being protected by her or was all her supports to fragile heart, holding it together when she felt as if she failed from pulling Whitley away from Jacques. Her drive and momentum to keep gong to ensure that one day she could fully be free, and when following Ironwood failed she was rescued again by Weiss and her drive to save the lives of Mantle. No, she wasn’t just Winter’s guardian angel, she was Whitley’s and mother’s safe haven as well.

Picking them up if every they were to fall, and waiting for them, reaching out, pulling them from darkness, and helping them shatter their mirrors’. Helping all those who were suffering by the use of her songs no matter how angry it made Jacques or how much she was struggling for freedom as well. Changing all those expectations on has of Schnees when they meet her and get to know her.

Still when she was finally brought back to reality at the tilt of Weiss’s head and growing smile as a thumb ran over Winter’s cheek again and again. Speaking once more with her soft and calm voice.

Weiss - “You’re my sister and I could never blame you for anything that happened.”

This broke Winter as her tears came falling out without pause. She buried her head into Weiss’s chest needing to hear her heart beat. Holding her closer and tighter but still nothing. Well not until...

Weiss - “I love you Winter. I will always even if I’m dead, sister.”

I love you.

There it came, all at once the pain, remorse, sorrow, distraught, but most importantly relief. Relief that her sister was alive, that she survived. Relief that she was holding her. That, whatever fucked up fate this world had going for it, she could hold her sister again and was given a second chance.

That she’d defeat anything in her path if to ensure that this unlikely chance was not wasted one bit.

_______________

Wellllll.......... I got carried away with Winter finding how to express her emotions again. Began writing and couldn’t stop. Maybe I should make more of these just with different characters and not pick on Winter’s fragile state...

Or I could continue this Schnee angst and cry myself to sleep.

Anyways, I’ve got one more thing for the reunion.

Emerald is hugged, lightly but not without meaning as she holds onto the people that first called her a friend who she thought died. She’s crying by now as well.

Qrow also hugs Weiss and Blake, by now I’ll say he adopted Blake and Weiss and holds them close to his heart like family. This surprises everyone minus the people that travelled with them for most of their journey. Especially when Weiss and Blake hug him back just as tight, well Weiss a little less because she’s not used to being physically affectionate with anyone other than her team and the repaired bonds between her and her siblings and mother.

Klein gets a hug from Weiss because he is true Schneeblings’ dad, and to top it off all of his split personalities fight for control as he cries about how worried he was and how much he missed her.

After that Weiss drags Winter over to Whitley and holds them both close as Willow hugs them. Them just standing there, not entirely fixed but just glad that all the pieces to fix their family was there again.

And that’s my take on a reunion. And no I’m not sorry about the Winter and Weiss angst with hurt/comfort.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hello! ^^ Can you write a scenario in which Hange & the reader save Levi from the Jaegerists and dive into the river all together just as it went in the manga; however, when they arrive to somewhere safe the reader has already been shot protecting Levi's body in her arms and she begs Levi to wake up after implementing CPR. I would be grateful if you could add some fluff when Levi eventually regains consciousness laying on bed and finds the reader asleep while she's holding his hand.

Warnings: mentions of blood, being shot and vomiting, contains spoilers for chapter 115 of the manga

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, hurt/fluff

A/N: soo I took some teeny tiny creative liberties and I'm also crying at this. I hope you guys cry with me..

__

A simple question flashes through your mind like flood that furiously annihilates a barrage ever since you lay eyes on Levi's unconscious body.

"what happened?"

You move maniacally, helping Hange retreat him from the blood stained river side as water splashes everywhere; on your clothes, on your hair, on Hange's glasses. With shaking hands you pay on Levi's cloacked form, searching for anything that indicates a sort of movement, or another wound as Hange reaches for his pulse.

"I don't know what happened here, but we got lucky, out biggest thread covered in his own blood" Flotch speaks, managing to earn a growl from you.

"He's dead." It's only for a faint moment a fragile spasm his chest muscle make that lame you and Hange stare at eachother in despair. You drop your head at her words in hopes it looks believable enough for anyone around. The extraterrestrial contrast of your inner relief and outer grief sends Hange in awe for a brief fragment of a second as it's Flotch again who utters another growl earning statement.

"I'll send a shot through his head-"

"I know how to take a pulse, let me see him."

Panic rushes through you as he closes his mouth and you miss out on Hange's response. It's probably a good cover up, but not enough to stop you from spitting him of a response.

"Don't you dare! This is an order Floch!"

"I don't take orders from a snarky bitch-"

The clicking of his loaded gun, the bark in his tone, it's all in vain at the sight of Zeke emerging from that titan's stomach. In haze his blue eyes meet yours, spotting you over Levi's body along with Hange.

Everything happens too fast for your own liking and your vertigo infused mind. Hange throws Levi over her shoulder while desperately pleass for you to cut through the straps of his 3DMG gear and commands you to follow her. After taking a look back at Zeke's unresponsive figure you ran behind Hange with all your might.

"Get them!"

"Don't you run!"

In a series of events and screams from Flotch and his men you hear gunfires. They're louder than you expect them to be, judging by your pulse's need to muffle your hearing and each one sends a rush of cold sweat through your body. If you don't rush then you won't make it.

The bullet that pierces your thigh commands you to halt but your erratical heartbeat and the amount of adrenaline in your system assist you in pushing through the pain. You slip on the muddy ground and you refuse to fall; if you fall now there's not a chance you're getting back up. It's when you decide on accepting your fate as a future dead body laying on the muddy soil because the men after you have horses that you see Hange disappearing in the woods. You run, faster that you think you can as there's no chance that Flotch won't hesitate to double kill even if you play dead.

Finally upon arriving at a safe point in the woods you're met with Hange and Levi's body sprawled across the dirt. Hange's eyes soften as she looks at you arriving. Even though you're out of breath and wet from rain and sweat she fails to notice anything alarming.

That's until you set your hands and forehead on a nearby tree and proceed to choke on your own breath. Not long passes before you empty your stomach fluids before your feet. And Hange understands, adrenaline rushes and stressful situations lead to that occurance so she's not going to pressure you for an answer as to if you're alright. Until she sets her eyes at the profound hole in the back of your thigh. The black clothing around the wound is drenched in dark soggy blood that continuously oozes down your leg and into your boot.

Without giving her a chance to utter a word you announce, while clutching your stomach that Levi is top priority.

Needless to say that if he was awake or not even half alive he would have kicked you in the face for implementing cpr on him after having just thrown up; Hange urges you to though, seeing that his breaths are descreasing.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me like that.

Once again the familiar vertigo state engulfs your drained state of mind and you fall head first on the grass. You're unable of moving past that point. You've done your part and there's nothing you can do on that state.

"I need to remove that bullet, be patient with me (y/n). I'm almost done with Levi."

With vertigo furiously hitting your whole form it's hard to keep your eyes open for the whole of her response. In the end, sleep wins, with it's warm tendencies and calming effects to your brain.

_____

When he wakes up he sees your devasted form laying beside him, holding his unbandaged arm in peace. Your face fails to flinch or move, and no movement of breathing is detectable.

"Levi-"

"Is she dead?" He asks through grunts of pain.

"No, but she might not have enough energy to get up. She run after us while being shot. If it wasn't for her delaying them, we would have never made it."

Levi clicks his tongue in response. His eyes travel up and down your body as it lays face down beside him. There's no doubt that your eyes are half lid open, whether or not they blink he notices. There are small cuts across your face and droplets of blood running from your nostril and in a moment, he wonders if you're truly dead.

His thumb soothingly rubs on your hand on top of his, even searching for a pulse, as he recalls that drama play he read when he was first given an office with a full library, Romeo and Juliet. This all plays out too well according to it to be the real life. You find him pressumingly dead and he wakes up from his comatose state to your dead body, even for a role switch it's still accurate to a creepy extend.

As if you read his melancholic thoughts, you completely open your eyes and shoot him a warm, exhausted smile.

"Don't you dare leave me."

"I won't."

And he promises, by pressing your bloody palm against naked chest, to stay true to his words. You're going to win this war. You won't fall casualties of cruelty because the two of you deserve it. Once it's all over you'll help him build that teashop he always wanted. What you need is to hung on a little more.

My requests are open so if you want to leave one in my askbox, I'll be more than happy to see you guys interacting with me.

[the-witty-pen-name]

It Happened on Sakaar Pt. 3

Mando x Asgardian!F!Reader; Loki x Asgardian!F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: cursing, angst, slow burn, pining, mentions of violence, 18+ in later chapters 

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

So sorry this chapter is a little short! It’s a little bit of a filler chapter to establish some things before more events start to unfold. 

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You resolved to see Thor as soon as you could. As soon as it was light the following morning, you dressed quickly, and headed to where you thought he would be kept. There was a small hospital wing inside the same building where the gladiators were kept. You figured you would try there first and with any luck he’d still be there. The walk was short, and you kept your head down to avoid any attention to the fact a scrapper was heading to the hospital wing to see one of the gladiators.

Some of these fighters were creatures you brought to the Grandmaster. You’re sure none of them would be too happy seeing you again, and so you kept your head down as you walked past the area where they stayed. This part of your life disgusted you. You never allowed yourself to focus too much on it because if it wasn’t them, it would be you. It was cruel, and a very harsh world the Grandmaster has made. But for you, you’ve heard the rumors of what happens to female captives, and you know even though you’re leading a terrible career- it is better than any other fate you would have faced on this planet.

When you arrive, there are no one in the beds that line the walls of the room. There are a few workers, dressed in basic medical uniforms and they refuse to give you any information on Thor’s whereabouts. They claimed he was never brought there, but part of you seriously doubts them. Discouraged, you head back out to the main area of the building and decide to head towards Mando’s hotel. However, something really peculiar stops you.

“Hello there, might I just say that weapon of yours is some mighty fine-looking artillery,” said the voice. He was overly positive, and he spoke in a very unique accent, like every final syllable of each word he spoke was raised. “My name is Korg.”

You turn your head quickly towards the voice, and there he was. A tall, blueish gray rock creature waving to you like a school child behind the electric barrier. He was clearly one of the gladiators, you recognized him from the fights. Your chuckle is involuntary because his voice and his way of carrying himself does not match the stature of stone.

“Hi Korg,” you say puzzled. “I’m Scrapper 451.”

“Please to meet you, this here is Meek.” Only then did you notice the significantly shorter creature standing beside him. You couldn’t even begin to describe Meek, maybe like a walking catfish? “We heard you were looking for Thor.”

“You know Thor?” you ask, spirits lifting as you take a step closer to the barrier. “He’s my friend,” you explain, “I need to find him.”

“Ah well,” Korg explains, “You see there was a lot of disgruntlement after the fight. People weren’t sure how to call the fight, seeing as how the Grandmaster intercepted as he does. Some people were saying Thor should be the new champion and the Grandmaster was saying his Champion is the champion so for now until they know what to do with the Lord of Thunder, they are keeping in the Room of Champions.”

“They thought having them share a bedroom was a good idea?” you ask, your eyes widening.

“You know that you say it like that, it doesn’t seem like the best decision,” Korg nods, and Meek makes some noise in agreement, you can only assume.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Well, all in the name of friendship,” Korg shrugs, “Thor is my friend.”

“Thank you, Korg,” you say earnestly, and he nods in response, rolling his shoulders back like he just won some sort of war hero.

“Anything for the cause!” he shouts triumphantly, as you walk away. You check the time on the time piece on your wrist. It was getting later in the morning and you needed to find Thor before the day began. You took the nearest lift in the building and rode it up to the top floor to the penthouse where they kept the Champion.

As you approached the room, you saw the large green figure was sleeping soundly in the very large bed. You saw how gaudy the room was, painted starkly in red and white. It was a little bit of an eye sore, but it was decorated with the Grandmaster’s eye, no doubt. You walked up to the doorway and you saw Thor, sleeping on the ground, as a few girls tended to his wounds. You waited until they were done and he was awake before you made yourself known.

“Your majesty,” you whispered, hoping he would hear you. The man turned his head and his eyes widened and his booming voice echoed through the whole room. You rolled your eyes at his inability to be subtle. Did he not realize he was his own worst enemy? He called your name happily and ushered you to enter. He engulfed you in a grizzly hug. It was honestly very comforting. You had missed your friend.

“You won’t believe the past few days since you’ve left,” Thor tries to quickly explain.

“Wait. Wait. What do you mean?” you ask puzzled.

“When you went through the Bifrost a few days ago,” he began again, trying to hurriedly fill you in on the details of Hela, and all that was happening back home.

“Thor, what do you mean? I’ve been on Sakaar for the past two years,” you explain.

“You left two or three days ago,” Thor states, his confusion evident on his face.

“Loki has been here for a few weeks,” you add.

“I don’t have an explanation, but you need to understand that Loki and I were thrown from the Bifrost by Hela at the same time. Loki thrown out only seconds before me. Time obviously works different here. You need to believe me that to us, you haven’t even been gone a week,” Thor says. You don’t know how to process this information yet.

The whole time you’d been here, thinking they’d all just chose to let you leave. You thought they didn’t care enough to come find you, after all you did for the throne. Now, after two years of sitting with this, you learn for them it’s been two goddamn days and somehow the Goddess of Death has returned the day after you left?

“Loki was going to follow you,” Thor explains, “but I made him come with me to find our father. I needed him to show me where he had left Odin. I know you can understand that.”

“Of course,” you say, “But Loki has been here for weeks, and never sought me out.”

Thor scoffs, muttering how it was typical of the god of mischief. He looks at you apologetically, and you can see tears welling behind his eyes, from all he has gone through since the last time you had seen him. He mutters something about his hammer before burying his face into your neck to hug you again tightly.

“There’s something I need to do,” you tell him, as you try to comfort him by rubbing his back.

“When I’m done, we’ll get you back to Asgard,” you insist.

“This can’t wait,” Thor interjects. “I need a way to leave now. Actually, I have a wrench in the plan as well,” he continues, looking over to the sleeping monster on the bed. “He’s got to come with me.”

“What why?” you ask, stepping forward to sneak a peak at the sleeping green creature.

“He’s one of the Avengers, he’s trapped here too,” Thor explains.

“The ones you told us about from Earth?” you ask. “I didn’t realize Midgardians could look like that.”

“No, no it’s just the one,” Thor explains, “I think.”

“What about Loki?” you ask, your mind returning to the promise you made to Mando.

“He seems content to stay here,” Thor sighs, and you scoff. Seemed like a simple enough plan for you and Thor to manage, you’d help Mando with the bounty, Thor and the Hulk could secure a ship. Everyone can win.

“In the meantime,” you say not wanting to dwell on Loki, “You help your friend and try to secure us a ship, I’ll take care of what I have to do and we can find each other after that.

“Okay,” Thor agrees, and you hug him tightly one more time before heading off to meet with Mando. You check the time, and you hustle to make it, not even saying a hello to Scrapper 142 as you pass her in the hallway.

Mando sat in him room anxiously. He had let is emotions get the better of him, and he was spiraling in his own state of paranoia you would betray him. He was worried you would have gone to Loki, and told him of the fact a bounty hunter was here and after him. Perhaps, you reunited with him and you fell back into a relationship with him. He chastised himself. He shouldn’t care what you do, and it’s his own fault for trusting you with information about his job.

He stayed up late with the kid last night, this planet was no place to be traveling with a child, and he knew he was not being fair to him. The little guy had a hard time sleeping last night, and Mando stayed up with him, and even stayed awake long after the kid had fallen asleep just in case, he woke up again.

The knock on the other side of the door, took him out of his thoughts and he felt guilty for thinking you wouldn’t show. You arrived only a few minutes later than he was supposed to expect you and he blames himself for how he took your tardiness as a sign of disloyalty.

“Sorry,” you say a little out of breath, “I needed to talk to Thor and I received more information about why they are here. It has nothing to do with who hired you or why you were sent here.”

“That’s alright,” Mando says, looking at you. He felt flushed under the helmet, embarrassed like you had caught him thinking of you as a traitor.

“But I don’t need to bother you with any of that,” you say, sounding like you are trying to cover your own distress. “We should talk about the plan regarding Loki.”

“Yeah,” Mando agrees, but he wants to ask you what is wrong. Clearly whatever happened with Thor has you upset and he wants to help you.

“There’s a party coming up,” you say, “similar to the one you infiltrated before. I’m sure Loki in his attempts to get close to the Grandmaster should be there. I have to be there anyways. Same reason.”

Mando can’t help himself when the image of when he ran into you before enters his mind. Whatever crush he had he needed to get over it. For his own sake, yours, the kid… Letting his emotions and his own attraction to you affect his decisions was going to be detrimental. It wasn’t fair to put his own feelings first. He needed to keep them at bay, at least until the bounty was caught. He tells himself its because you’re helping him and not looking for anything in return, and the fact that his last relationship was with a deranged twi years ago. He’s not used to niceness with no strings attached. It also doesn’t help that you’re probably the most beautiful being he’s ever seen- no. He’s not letting himself go there.

“Thor told me that Loki had wanted to come for me,” you continue, “I think that’s something we could take advantage of.”

“Wasn’t it years ago?” he asks.

“Apparently not to them,” you sigh, taking a seat on a chair that was opposite him. The child fussed and tugged on your pant leg. You looked to Mando for permission before scooping up the baby in your arms. He cooed happily and you stroke his ears gently. “Time must work differently here,” you try rationalize, “Thor said I only left two days ago. He said Loki wanted to follow me, but Thor needed him.”

“So, two years here, has been the equivalent of two days back on your home planet?”

“Basically,” you sigh, “But I think I can use that to my advantage. Loki hasn’t had the time to get over things between me and him like I’ve had. If Thor was telling the truth, maybe Loki thinks he has a chance of getting me back and I let him think he can. Maybe I can get his guard down.”

“Are you sure?” Mando asks, concern evident in his tone. You manage a half smile, appreciating that at least he seemed to care. It was sweet, and something you had gone without for the past two years. Which for your lifetime, that wasn’t that long, but a year on Asgard with your friends, the richness of that life, is much shorter than the grueling day to day of your life on Sakaar.

“Yes, we capture Loki, and then I’ll return to Asgard with Thor,” you resolve, although you actually aren’t sure you want to return to Asgard. It was your home planet, but the place hadn’t felt like your home in a long time. However, you can’t just stay here forever, you are starting to realize. Maybe you’d go to Earth, or maybe some other planet. Somewhere a little kinder than this one. Hell, maybe you could manage a ship and be a nomad- just go where ever the galaxy sent you. Maybe you could hitch a ride with Mando? In exchange for helping him capture Loki. “Maybe I’ll go somewhere else. I’m not sure.”

Mando bites his tongue to keep him from inviting you with him. That was not something he thought would be something you’d want. The child cuddled up in your arms, he takes the opportunity to look at you, closely. You’re so good with him and it makes him wonder if you and him could continue to work together after this job. He could take you away from this planet and the people from your past that keep showing up to haunt you. You could help him raise the child until he’s able to return him to the Jedi. The time he’s traveled in isolation is weighing heavy on him, and he knows he will do better with a partner. He needs you. 

Taglist: 

@msclifford @doctoreuphoria @gloryekaterina @sassy-kassaay @oh-oh-oh-its-magic @letsfly-andbe-free​

[yaboylevi]

Hi! I love ur blog, especially ur Snk Metas and Ereri metas. What are your thoughts on the whole “Eren has always been like this” (always been evil or capable of great evils like genocide) that a lot of people seem to agree on? I’ve always had a hard time believing in that idea because we’ve been shown multiple times that Eren is capable of sympathy and empathy, so to say he’s ALWAYS been like this is wrong.

Hi! Thank you!!

Looking through my snk 121 tag I found that I have already received similar questions, so I’m gonna link one here if you want the short version of it. Even if it was something I wrote up right after the chapter was out, it’s not like my opinion has changed much... more like, my faith in Isayama writing a decent conclusion and explanation in regards to Eren has plummeted in the past year and a half.

But anyway, now we have some new information pertaining Eren, so I feel like I can add more on this moment and my take on it in light of such new perspective.

Let me preface this with: Eren hates what he’s doing, is despising every second, was scared of his future visions, often paralyzed, desperate to find a better solution than this, because he knows - let me repeat it - HE KNOWS this is horrifying. We had hints throughtout the story, but many have ignored them. For me, Eren going through grief and apologizing for something he hadn’t even done yet in chapters 131 was no shocker at all, but I guess some people may have actually been surprised, I don’t know. It was right there since the Marley arc and his breakdown over Sasha, but many have completely misinterpreted that scene, denying it was desperation that he was feeling, so it was nice to finally have confirmation. Kinda.

However, you know, Isayama doesn’t seem to have picked a side on his characterization of Eren. Or maybe there is still something that’s concealed, because everything we have seen, isn’t evething that has happened, and it doesn’t explain yet some things about Eren and, relevant to this post, why Eren has decided to give up and give in to his future self’s memories of destruction. I’m sorry, but Eren believing “there is no other way, other than killing the whole world’s population, because the future cannot be changed” due to some memories is not gonna cut it, especially because we haven’t seen him fight too hard against it. In my opinion, at least. Or maybe he did, but we haven’t been shown.

The most hopeful part of my heart wishes he is already trying to change things, in a very roundabout and secret way, but the tired and logical part is done hoping. After all, Eren is alternating between being hellbent on going through with rumbling the world, and being absolutely horrified by it. I’ve been getting whiplash every month for a couple of years now.

As for your actual question, and that line during the Paths Time Travel...

Let’s start from here, shall we? That whole conversation with Zeke in Paths was to Zeke what chapter 112 was to Mikasa and Armin, imo. Chapter 121, huh, same numbers...but anyways. I think I have already wrote it somewhere, but I believe Eren lied, and purposely hurt Zeke. To make him, and Mikasa and Armin, realize something and act accordingly, maybe against Eren himself.

In Mikasa’s case, the realization was gradual since then, because Eren’s lies kickstarted it immediately. In Armin’s case, I think we still haven’t seen the full potential of it, though it may come next chapter - and I mean the “You were influenced by Bertolt, an enemy” angle. I am surprised Armin hasn’t followed this reasoning in regards to Eren, who has three titans within him, none of them particularly allied with Paradis. We left Armin seeing Bertolt, who is, in turn, watching him. I wonder if a conversation won’t happen right off the bat in chapter 136.

Anyhow, Eren, in chapter 112, also very much hit Armin and Mikasa where it hurt them the most - which is the same thing he did to Zeke here, bringing up his hate for Grisha and how it was the only think really fuelling him, and went through all the effort of making him reconcile with Grisha. Mmm, sus. Am I the only one feeling it’s sus??? I really have to wonder if he doesn’t kind of want/need Zeke to stop him, just like I believe he did with Armin and Mikasa. After all, there was no need to antagonize them and make them have reasons to stop caring for him, if he didn’t want to be stopped.

So, if it wasn’t already clear, Eren is a big liar, and he’s good at it if you don’t know him (and Zeke, Armin, and Mikasa have proven they don’t know or understand him very well at times). His acting skills have been shown all the way back in the cabin scene when he was 8 years old and tricked those traffickers.

There is another layer to these lies that I’d like to touch upon, though.

The line you were inquiring about feels exactly like his “I am free” in chapter 112. He sounds so sure, but it is a freaking lie.

See how both Armin and Mikasa are confused by such a bold, out-of-the-blue statement, the same way Zeke asks Eren “Since birth?” because, like, what is that all even about?

Eren has been feeling trapped in his own future memories to the point that his freedom of choice even existing anymore has become a big question mark. There is no freedom in following the path you were shown.

Eren’s urge to save someone from “having their freedom solen” by “physically assaulting the perpetrators first” has never, ever meant that he was willing to or okay with sacrificing innocents. Quite the opposite, in fact. There have been whole arcs about that. About Eren freaking out over people dying for him, refusing to sacrifice friends for the bigger picture, grieving for or sympathizing with innocents losing their lives or having them destroyed by some bigger threat. That has not changed.

So the big question remains: Why?

With these outrageous and confident statements about himself, I don’t think Eren is merely lying to his interlocutor to change their perception of him. I think he is lying to himself as well in the meantime. It looks like it did the trick, or not - based on how you want to interpret it. He really has been dissociating hard during his rampage.

But it all depends on what Isayama's angle is with Eren. In 112 Eren seemed to believe his “I am free” statement because he had an instant reaction to Armin challenging it. At the same time, now that we also have chapter 130-131 to enrich our reading, there is no way Eren felt free into the choices he made after hearing Willy’s declaration of war. He saw a terrifying future, he hoped against hope that it would change, but felt powerless and gutted and desperate that all pointed to such a future being unchangeable. So I do wonder if maybe he didn’t end up lying to himself - subconsciously or not - that he is free... and that he is always been this way - a cold-blooded murderer who did it all for justice.

Zoom in on Eren forlornly watching himself as a kid show pure kindess to a girl who just went through the most traumatizing experience in her life.

For the matter, I don’t believe Eren “has always been this way”. I actually don’t believe he’s ever been that way. I don’t know why many(?) people just accept whatever Eren says at face value, ignoring all context surronding it.

As I posted very recently, it doesn’t make sense for Eren to go from one extreme to the other without a better excuse, or explanation, or a more believable writing of it...or a plot twist that I guess I will wait for for another 4 months:

Eren came to realize that outside the walls people are just...well, people. There are good ones everywhere, people who suffered just like him, people who deserve better, certainly don’t deserve to be caught up in the Rumbling, people who have lives, children, moms, loved ones. This is highlighted again in chapter 131, because maybe, when Eren brought it up in the basement with Falco and Reiner, people didn’t think he was being genuine. So Isayama shows us again that Eren truly believed that.

And yet, the chapter before, Eren put those very same people on the same level of Titans when he used to think Titans were scum, a nightmare sent to eat them alive, because he addressed them with “匹”, a derogatory counter when applied to people, because it is usually used for small animals.

The parallel to how he used to feel towards Titans is smacked in our faces, because in Japanese, it’s the same exact line. He now feels that way about people.

...What?

It doesn’t make sense, right?

Because really, the same way Eren’s first impulse in Marley was to save Ramzi when he was being beaten up (and threatened with a worse fate than some bruises), the same way Eren helped him regardless and again went against 3 full-grown men, it’s the same way Eren rushed to Mikasa’s rescue when he didn’t even know her... or the same way he pushed himself into a Titan’s mouth just to save Armin. it doesn’t come from a sentiment of “I need to punish these monsters because they are threatening me”. It comes from a natural, intrinsic need to help and save others. It is deeply saddening that at the end of this journey, with Ramzi, he just feels like this natural predisposition of his is just a fake and turns him into a hypocrite.

So for Eren to say he has always been that way while looking at his 8 years old self stabbing a human trafficker in the chest to save a little girl to try and explain why he’s killing innocent people who happens to be living alongside “the bad guys” is a false equivalence. Either it’s a lie Eren tells himself and to Zeke to make both of them believe this is what Eren is, and has always been, and there is nothing they could do to prevent it - in a sort of twisted liberation from guilt because “if I was always like this, then you and I both shouldn’t have expected anything different”...

...or it’s Isayama’s failed attempt at presenting a theoretical concept he liked and talked about in interviews, suddenly turning Eren into a poster boy for it and canceling previous sides of Eren’s complexity as a character. I would like to believe Isayama hasn’t lost his magic touch this badly, but every day I’m less sure of it.

My opinion, for what is worth, is that that line you quoted is something he said to trick Zeke into detaching himself from Eren and going against him - breaking the bonds of love all around him has been a very deliberate choice Eren has made post time-skip - and at the same time it’s something Eren is trying to believe himself, in a desperate attempt at explaining to his own conscience that he was destined to bring such destruction, that he was always capable of it, and that there is a sort of justice in it where there isn’t. And he knows, deep down. That’s why he dissociates in the end.

In a very twisted, self-deprecating way, Eren is a liar to everyone, himself included. He has become an unreliable narrator about himself. Eren has completely shut down because he cannot stand what he is doing.

And I would very much like to know why he gave up on trying to find a different solution, if that’s what it is that happened, and why he sounds like a different person every other scene he appears in, in the next 4 months.

[easily-infatuated23]

Undercover- Part Three (Healer!Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Prologue, Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

a/n: ok i kinda love where this is going and i’ve decided that the Reader is a spy lol comment if you would like to be added on the tag list for this series! also sorry if this is a cliff hanger 

pairing: Healer! Draco x Spy! (?) Reader

word count: 2.1k

warning: mentions of trauma and death

summary: During her stay at Malfoy Manor, Reader finds some evidence that will help figure out who had been ordering the killings of muggle-born witches and wizards but will Draco trust her?

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This assignment had really taken a strange turn. Not only had I been imbedded with Death Eaters, but I had been stabbed and was now hiding in Malfoy Manor. Draco was much kinder and happier than the last time I saw him. Of course, I had heard the stories of this newer and better Draco, but witnessing it first hand was something else. No matter how many times I told him I had to leave to keep him safe, he would just assure me that the protective charms he placed around the house would keep us safe. I remained on edge. After all, safety is a matter of perspective. I had a feeling part of the reason he was against me leaving was not just for my safety, but I suspected he was glad to have the company. It truly was a large house. A large and empty house for just one person. With his father in Azkaban and his mother taking a much needed vacation abroad, he was the most alone he had probably ever been…physically that is. After my slip up in revealing the name of the organization after me, I tried to speak about the subject as little as I could. All I wanted was to be relieved of the burden I was carrying but, I knew if I did, Draco Malfoy would surely be killed. So, I continued to bear the burden of knowledge as Draco began healing me again.

Draco had lead me to his kitchen and motioned for me to hop up on to the counter. He had attempted to assist me but I was stubborn and struggled through the process myself. He opened his medical bag and pulled out a needle and suture thread. He rolled up his sleeves as he went to wipe some disinfectant on my side before turning to thread the needle “How did you figure out who I was?” I asked my Healer on the second day of my stay. “Well, the appearance change was pretty hard to see through but once those Death Eaters said your name at St. Mungo’s I remembered you”. “Remembered me?” I questioned. “I don’t think we spoke once while at Hogwarts and I have been off the grid pretty much since I finished there. Ouch! That hurts.” I said, wincing as he tended to my side. “Stop fussing, it’s only a few stitches. And if you hadn’t apparated I wouldn’t have to give you stitches you know” he replied, slightly laughing at my inability to stand the pain, especially after I had refused to let him use a pain relieving potion on me. I was worried I’d say something I would regret later. Whether I was worried about spilling something about my assignment or something else was still up for debate.

“You are avoiding my question” I said matter-a-factly. He sighed. “You knew me back then, I always noticed the pretty girls” he said with a slight blush. “That’s just a cop out answer, I don’t believe you” I replied, not making eye contact so that he couldn’t see the slight smile on my face. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up. “Believe what you’d like”.

He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. I jumped off the counter. “Fucking hell” I muttered. He laughed again. “You should take it easy for at least two weeks” he said. I groaned but then, remembered something. My heart sank a little as I remembered where I was and the history of this house. “Hey look I am gonna ask you a question that’s gonna make you really uncomfortable so I apologize in advance. And, please know I am only asking because I feel like I have to.” He turned to face me, a worried look washed over his face. “Do you have a record of all You-Know-Who’s followers? There were rumors about a book. I know he used this place as a headquarters during the second war and I am desperate for any lead on…..well a lead” I said, holding in my reasons. He grimaced slightly. “Unfortunately for me, yes but I guess that’s fortunate for you” he replied harshly. I felt guilty for bringing up the awful things in his past like this but I truly felt I had no choice. And besides, if this caused him to feel some apprehension towards me that might be beneficial in stopping his relentless questions.

He walked past me and began down a long hallway. I followed close behind him. He took a sharp left turn and continued down a spiral staircase that seemed as if it went on for ages. As he lead me down, neither of us spoke a word. When we finally reached the bottom, it felt like an entirely different place. This couldn’t possibly be the basement of the surprisingly homey manor I had just been inside. Could it? As we exited the staircase, we stood facing a large green door. The green paint on the door was faded, as if the door was centuries old but there was a large golden key hole shining on the front, underneath an equally shining golden door knob. The two looked as if they’d been installed recently.

“Mother and I tried to destroy it but nothing we did worked. There is some serious dark magic in this book. We locked it down here to make sure it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.” He turned towards me, his face only inches from mine. If he hadn’t done this in such a menacing way, I might have swooned a little but now was not the right time for that. “I hope I am not putting it in the wrong hands now” he said. I shook my head. It had just occurred to me, there was a possibility that he didn’t believe my story. I knew it was true and the thugs after me were good evidence in my favor, but it all could have been a plant. Thats why he was asking so many questions. Maybe I would have to tell him after all. He turned back around to face the door. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small golden key on a string. Had he been wearing the necklace the whole time? I wondered why I hadn’t noticed. He took off the necklace and put the key into the hole. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

Once the door opened he stepped aside, allowing me to look inside the small room that had been revealed. The inside was dark and gave off a feeling of uncertainty and slight panic. There were only two things residing in the small room; a podium and a large black leather bound book. I started to walk in when Draco put his arm across the entrance and stopped me. “Prepare yourself. Once you go in and open it, you will never feel the same again. The book can have an effect almost like a Dementor” he said. “What exactly is the book?” I asked. “The Binding of the Death Eaters” he said with a shiver. “Before someone could receive the Dark Mark and be fully inducted as a Death Eater, they would have to sign their name. It binds your fate to the Dark Lord” he said. The way he stared at the book could only be described as a raging and powerful fury. I knew that Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater but I had no idea that even after the Dark Lord had been killed, he still had so much power of Draco’s life. “I am really sorry” I began. “I know that sorry means nothing especially since I have forced you to come down here but I truly am. I’m also sorry that you never got to chose not to sign.” He looked at me. The fury was still spinning in his eyes but with every moment it lessened. He said nothing but simply nodded. I entered the room and, with a deep breath, opened the book. I titled my head to one side and turned to Draco. “It’s blank” I said. He looked almost relieved. “The names are only revealed to someone who has the Dark Mark” he said. “So you were testing me and my story” I said. He nodded. He then turned side ways and gestured with his left arm for me to exit the room. “This might freak you out so you might want to leave now” I said, pulling my wand from my jacket pocket. “Obscure Appareat Vestigium” I whispered, pointing my wand at my left forearm. The black skull appeared on my arm and a snake slithered out of its mouth. Draco stepped back with a horrified expression on his face. “It’s not a real Dark Mark and it’s not permanent” I said quickly. “The task force I’m apart of developed this charm for undercover work”. Draco looked me in the eyes, turned, and hurried up the staircase.

Now I’d done it. Just as he was going to fully trust me, I broke his trust. The look he gave me made me feel sick. Just another horrified face to add to the growing list that haunted my nightmares. I sighed deeply then turned my attention back to the book. I flipped through the pages. I saw plenty of names I recognized, all ex-Death Eaters who had wound up in Azkaban or served lighter sentences and some were names of people who were killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. I even saw Draco’s name. His signature was much shakier than most of the other names. He had been so young. The more I looked I realized something was missing. I started to realize an option that I had never considered. It made the sick feeling in my stomach lurch again but before I could fully register the awful feeling, I saw a name I recognized. This was a name I had never seen associated in this way with the Dark Lord. Suddenly, things started to make more sense. My heart was practically beating out of my chest.

I jumped out of the room and shut the door. Draco had left the key hanging on the door knob which I grasped and used to lock the door. That book had just become very important evidence in a trial no one knew was beginning. I spoke the Dark Mark removing incantation and raced back up the spiral stair case. When I got to the top I was out of breath. I turned right and made my way back into the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked dazed and upset. “I can give you an explanation now” I said breathlessly, tossing him the key. He looked up at me suddenly, just barely catching the key. I had clearly startled him. “I know who is behind the Dark Saints and right now you may be the only chance there is that this will all stop.” He stood up. “What are you talking about? Stop what? You being chased?” He was clearly frustrated. “You have every right to be frustrated with me and I promise I will explain everything but first I need to get one more piece of information.” I said. “And what’s that?” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Do you know where I can get the last…let’s say year of Daily Prophet obituary sections?” He looked at me, clearly feeling very puzzled. “I mean…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess they did start offering a digital option two years ago-” “Perfect!” I said, cutting him off. I raced back up the stairs to his bedroom where I remembered seeing a computer. “Wait! What are you doing?” he called after me.

When I entered his room I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. I sat down at the computer and began furiously scanning through the obituary pages. He entered the room moments after me and stood over my shoulder, curiously watching my frantic scribbles. Once I had finished I slumped back in the chair for a moment. I hadn’t noticed when I started crying but once I did, the tears flowed at a hotter temperature and more quickly down my cheeks than they ever had before. I finally turned to face him. “There’s at least twenty of them” I said, trying to hold my voice steady. “What does that mean?” Draco asked. He understood that I meant twenty people had died but he wanted to know how that was important in my explanation. I slowly stood only to suddenly become so dizzy my balance faltered. “Y/N? Are you ok you’ve gone very pale”. I started to nod but then shook my head then everything went black.

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taglist!:

@pointlesscoconut @bi-andready-tocry

[dragonswithjetpacks]

I’m going to say this one time about Cullen and that’s it. And my opinion will be out there and done. This is not a negative post. But this is a long post so buckle up babes.

*warning for use of language because I swear like a sailor*

*also brief mention of rape*

Anyway, Cullen is a perfect example of poor planning in the gaming industry.

He is also a perfect example of fans thirsting so hard and wanting something so bad that the writers and developers change a character and even game elements to suite their needs. They didn’t even give him a book or a comic for redemption. You know what they did instead? They switched writers. Cullen has three writers. All of them with a different character in mind.

Cullen was a fucked up mess in Origins. He was meant to be creepy and sociopathic. I get that. The writer who basically created him had no idea he was even going to be not only a reoccurring character, but one that was going to be romance able in future games. She even apologized. Which wasn’t necessary. And so many people who played the game missed a big point about Cullen. He was never supposed to recover from Origins.

“The young templar Cullen never quite recovered from his ordeal. After months of attempting to convince his superiors that the tower was still a danger, he finally snapped and killed three apprentices before being stopped by his fellow templars. Eventually, Cullen escaped from prison, a madman and a threat to any mage he encountered.”

“Once the tower was rebuilt, Knight-Commander Greagoir stepped down from his post and retired to a life of private contemplation as a brother in the Chantry. His health failed over time, and after refusing treatment, he perished in his sleep. Knight-Commander Cullen was said to be more strict and less trusting of the mages even than Greagoir was. He ruled the Circle with fear.”

I’m sorry. But yeah. That’s the epilogue on two different choices involving the Circle’s fate in Origins. And it was ignored. I agree with that, too. But it wasn’t just Cullen that was ignored. It was the entire Circle at Kinloch Hold. If the mage warden sacrifices their own life, the Circle is supposedly free. Which... is not mentioned... ever again. And not to mention is impossible? Like okay thanks Anora or whoever but I don’t think you can just do that.

Poor writing.

I’d also like to mention for the record I did not like Cullen in Origins. I still don’t.

Now, I don’t know why exactly Cullen was brought back in DA2? I know his writer got bullied out of Bioware. I do not have an opinion on that. I mean the woman co-wrote my favorite part of Origins (Anvil of the Void). She also wrote Anders. Which I don’t think is a coincidence. People, men and women, often have this idea of fixing a broken person. It’s heavily romanticized. It’s called codependency. And you see it a lot in romance novels. But that’s another topic. It seems this writer implemented that in the game (along with some of her own personal things she had) without fully knowing Cullen would even be a romantic interest in Inquisition, but also still wanting to give him some sort reason to be desired. And all the while knowing Anders was fully romanceable. Even... a little forcefully... romanceable... if I may add... (I am uncomfortable) I also dislike some of Anders’ writing but that’s another post and I don’t want to compare the two. But Anders was the opposite side of Cullen that was done better because they had time to write it.

Regardless, Cullen seemed to hold some resemblance to his former character. But we do see a lot hesitance with him. He’s basically that “good” cop that doesn’t do anything when the bad cop is beating the shit out of everyone. Still not good, hence the quotes. Not a good guy. He has his meh he’s alright moments. And seems to generally disregard Hawke in every single way. But he’s still an ass hole for letting things happen the way that they did when he could very much so have put a stop to it. Maybe it was the writers’ intention to make it that way to show he was still suffering from trauma in Origins.

Again. Poor writing. BECAUSE WE DON’T KNOW. DIDN’T HE KILL THREE PEOPLE, BIOWARE? ISN’T HE SUPPOSED TO BE KNIGHT COMMANDER IN FERELDEN, B I O W A R E??? WHAT. HAPPENED. BIOWARE.

So here’s the next thing. They decided to slip him into Inquisition for whatever reason. His writing was fair enough in DA2. Could have been better. But these people are still thirsty. They want some Curly. At the last minute, they throw romance on him. Not a bad idea. But are we supposed to forget the man was basically raped by desire demons? Is he even ok to have a relationship? OH WAIT THAT’S RIGHT. We didn’t closure on that because they ignored it.

Anyway, Cullen in Inquisition seems to be different. But because they couldn’t just, oh I don’t know, write a different character with the same traits but better, they had to somehow put the events of the previous games and how it affected him into this new current game where he supposed to be... better? Ish? Which is where we get the stereo type soldier with PTSD and a substance abuse problem. Now, if you’re any good with imagining and writing fanfic, then you probably know or already have figured out a way to connect everything better than Bioware could. But hey. Last minute romance written in on a character who was already all over the charts? Count me in. I like a good writing challenge. Poor girl who took the job of writing Inquisition Cullen likes a challenge too, apparently. Because it was her first big project. And she didn’t do a bad job. But imagine working hard on trying to write a character half the fandom hates into someone somewhat likeable just for everyone to shit all over it.

The way I look at it.... we have three different characters. And he is not really a good example to look at analyze wise. He is inconsistent. And was molded for Inquisition for thirsty fan girls. And some boys (I see you). A good example for study would be Morrigan. Or even Alistair. And Alistair is in several of the comics and still remains pretty consistent. Leliana is a prime example of character development over a course of three games. And I highly recommend you fall in love with her good and bad side because she is written beautifully. Don’t @ me.

Cullen, and I mean Inquisition Cullen, has a lot to like. And a lot to dislike. Every character is flawed. I think a lot of hate that gets tagged onto Cullen is really from poor writing. They really got lazy with him. And it is a shame. I feel like he could have been redeemed way better. He could have had one hell of a redemption. Or possibly just skipped over all together. I see a lot of posts about putting Samson in his place and I often agree. It was never quite the character that made him appealing to me. It was the personality. And they could have easily done with anyone. They could have made Samson sexy, too. It didn’t have to be sexy Cullen. And let’s face it. With Cullen’s writing in Origins and even some of the writing in DA2, Cullen siding with Coryphedouche is way more fitting than Samson.

Basically, it is up to us to fill in the gaps. So I love seeing fanfic with Cullen backstory. Because it gives better insight than what the writers could accomplish. And I applaud you if you’ve done that. BUT the over sexualization of this character is a bit... wrong. It feels wrong. And that’s all I’ll say to that. Personally, I’ve been working on some Cullen romance fic for awhile and it’s been challenging trying to find a way to make him less douchey. One minute, he’s yelling at you about mages. And the next, he’s got this soft tone and nervous look. Like, yeah... you can tell it’s rushed. And awful. And even the dialogue is just... painful. It doesn’t fit. (you can check my Cullen tag in blog to see how I feel about that). I will say that even speaking to him on a personal note, asking him questions about life as a templar, he even says he does not agree with the Order. And he wants to change his thinking. But he still gets angry when you go to side with the mages. It feels like they wanted redeem him but they also needed someone to side with the templars to provide conflict at the war table.

So in my opinion, calling him controlling and abusive is a bit of a stretch. He was clearly used by the writers. It just seems ridiculous to put so much effort in bashing the character when clearly... he was not planned out... or put together... I just... I don’t get...

I know what you’re thinking at this point: Kay.... why do you like him then?

Beacause. I am weak for a man who gets nervous around girls he likes. His awkward mannerisms despite being a man of power makes me weak. The need to protect also makes me weak. But also the ability to admit vulnerability makes me suuuuuper weak. So like I said. There was a lot there. It just was not delivered correctly. You know what I would have done? If I had to put him in the Commander shoes, I would have made the whole Kirkwall thing a life changer for him. Maybe even give him a soul searching type situation before joining the Inquisition. And definitely tell him to keep his mouth shut about siding with the templars.

Long story short: Ya’ll thirsted over a weird dude in Origins and Bioware went hmmmm okay. But by the time they gave him to you on a silver plate, it was last minute. Like you just found out your crush Jared is going to Becky’s party but you’re already at Jessica’s house and have like nothing to wear so you have to just wing it. And your shoes look tacky, but Jessica’s shoes don’t fit. So you either have to wear shoes that don’t fit or just look like omg total garbage. And Bioware went with the shoes that don’t fit. And Jared totally likes them.

I’m also going to say the most controversial thing on this entire post by just... saying... by calling Cullen out as trash without realizing the writing, the directive, the lack of development, the rush on this character, and the complete absolute bullying this community does to it’s FANS AND WRITERS kind of feels like you didn’t really put any effort into understanding why and just jumped on a band wagon. And the fact that some of you make other people feel bad for liking this character is awful. Some of the most toxic shit I’ve seen. Like maybe they like this character from Inquisition because, I don’t know, maaaaaaybe he was written out almost like a new character with a last minute fantasy romance.. because he kind of was...

Now for my opinion on Greg Ellis.

FUCK THAT GUY.

And that’s it. Thanks for stopping by. If you agree cool, if not cool. I’m not here to argue with anyone or say your opinion is invalid. We all have reasons why we hate or love the color blue. So we can all disagree or agree and live in peace and still love a game.

You can always message me, too, guys. I have a lot of opinions. And reasons for my opinions. And theories. And just things in general. But I will not hate characters written in Dragon Age. Someone wrote them. Someone is out there working their ass off to deliver a character. And I refuse to hate someone fictional.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Deleted Scene; Off-Chance Meeting

What if Jimin met....Jimin?

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, angst, comedy, supernatural

word count: 4.2k

Related works: See masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin

A/n: So this was like....a half developed scene that I was going to put in for Interlude: Second Best buuuuut I didn’t want to make the chapter too long because the main focus was guardian demon!Jimin’s POV from the events in the previous chapter. However! It’s been mentioned as a ‘what-if’ so I completed it as a fun deleted scene. Hope you like it and hope yall are doing okay! take care, be safe and I’ll hopefully see you soon again for another update, this time with story progression LOL

BTW! Thanks for the 1,026 follows!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖

Tag List: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatinagirl @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct

Jimin’s game plan to blend in is quite simple because it really only consists of one step; grab a staff member so that he can duplicate the lanyard ID they have. Even though he promised to not use his powers to you for the most part, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t found ways to work around it. He easily locks onto a target — a male staff exiting the artist room to step out into the hallway Jimin’s in, presumably on a short break as he strides down to stop by a vending machine. The male staff has his head down, eyes glued to his phone for a while until finally, he takes a quick glance up to view the selection of snacks before ducking his head again, clearly in no rush at all.

Jimin’s lips quirk and he makes quick work at slipping closer, steps light and so undetectable that he may as well be a ghost rather than a demon. At the last minute, Jimin cloaks himself, sneaking up on the unsuspecting male just as he reaches into his back pocket to grab some change. The demon’s touch feels nothing more than a draft, fingers barely caressing the back of the colourful lanyard hanging around his neck but it’s all he needs. The male staff carries on, punching in the numbers and watches as the bag of chips falls into the slot below. Taking it, he walks away, none the wiser.

Jimin pays no mind to him anymore, focused on slipping the thin silver chain necklace out from under his shirt and with a soft blow of his breath, the silver chain morphs into the lanyard, a perfect copy. Normally, he would do without a need for something tangible to cast the illusion but this way, he wouldn’t have to use too much magic to keep it up — a weight to the illusion is more believable than simply thin air.

Satisfied, he lets the cloaking spell disperse, rolling his neck a little at the relief that he can finally walk around more freely without the worry of hiding or arousing suspicions.

“Now… where to go?” He mumbles quietly to himself, eyes darting before deciding that he should scope out the way to the area under the stage. Just as he rounds the corner though—

“Woah!”

Jimin’s fast reflexes has him jerking back in time before he collides into the other body. With a step back, his eyes immediately catch sight of the sparkly jacket and they widen almost simultaneously in realization.

Face to face with him was none other than his own mirror, Park Jimin of BTS, only he has honey blond hair and a glowing complexion.

“Ah, I’m really sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” His eyes are a little wide, stormy grey contacts shining as he apologizes.

For a moment, he’s frozen, stuck rigid in place with shock and split second panic before realizing that he has the safety of his mouth mask and drawn up hood to protect his identity of being the idol’s face stealer. Also the fact that the idol has yet to pass out from shock at seeing his own clone or give any sort of huge reaction was a good indicator.

“A-Ah….” The demon’s voice catches in his throat, and he awkwardly coughs, embarrassed as he ducks his head and mutters gruffly in Korean, “No, it’s my mistake.”

The singer smiles amicably, teeth showing and gaze so warm and so friendly that the demon almost has trouble meeting it.

“Hey now, don’t worry! It’s nothing serious.” There’s a pause, a slight tilt of his honey blond head before those artificial stormy grey irises blink, brows furrowing. The demon starts to actually sweat, eyes refusing to meet as he unconsciously begins to lean back to put space in between. But there’s no escaping the curious gaze of the twenty-four year old singer. “Ah, I— I don’t mean to sound rude or offensive but…. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before?”

Oh shit, shit, shit, shit…

He swears his plan would’ve been completely foolproof if he hadn’t ran into the very person he’s going around parading as. The chances of the demon running into said idol was 1 in 200 and yet it’s as if fate had cursed him with the unwanted luck a fan could only dream of having. But there’s no time to curse heaven and fuck all because his mind begins to race with possibilities of escaping this situation. Maybe he could get away with enthralling the idol for a quick second, trick him into thinking this is all some sort of hallucination from being overworked and then when he’s all good and spaced out, the demon can make his escape. His fingers just about twitches when the singer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, face alight with an epiphany.

“Are you perhaps new?”

….What?

A beat unknowingly passes between them, with the demon blinking owlishly at the young man, completely gripped in disbelief and the singer staring back expectantly.


“Am I mistaken…?”

The hesitancy creeping into that question snaps the demon from his stupor and he finally blurts out, “No, I’m new.”

Relief washes over the idol’s handsome face (he’s never gonna get over how fucking trippy this is to watch), shoulders visibly losing some tension and the singer even places a hand over his chest.

“Ah, that would’ve been really bad — I usually am able to recognize everyone on the team.” His eyes creases again from the smile forming on his face. “Why haven’t we met yet, um….?”

“Ju—“ The demon stumbles on his words, thinking at the last second that your impromptu Korean name you had given him when he met Jaehee sounded too similar to the idol’s so his mind jumps to the next one he remembers off the top of his head. “— yeon….Kang Juyeon. This is my first day.”

Jimin the idol makes a noise of understanding, presumably taking his sloppy introduction as nerves in good strides. He inclines his head graciously in an almost small bow that catches the demon off-guard. “It’s nice to officially meet you Juyeon-ssi. I look forward to working with you.”

He bows robotically in return.

“Are you on break right now?” The young singer asks innocently.

“…Yes…” The answer comes out unsure, like he’s testing the waters and seeing where this could possibly lead — hopefully with the idol leaving him be and carrying on back to the artist room, surely much too busy to entertain a seemingly nervous new recruit. To his surprise though, the demon is proven wrong.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I must be taking up your time. Have you gotten anything to drink or eat yet?”

“Well, no but—“

The idol’s mouth gapes open almost immediately, “Would you like to head over to the catering room now? We can grab something.”

The demon is baffled, to say the least; so taken aback by Jimin’s friendly disposition to someone who he only just met that even though he really shouldn’t be overstaying his welcome like this, a part of him would actually feel guilty for turning down the offer. He’s so glad he’s wearing a mask right now because then the idol wouldn’t have to see the borderline crazed smile slowly stretching over the demon’s lips, the disbelief too strong.

But looking at the original owner of the face he wore, seeing it completely reflect a drastically different personality than his own invokes something in him; a morbid curiosity taking hold and stoking the fire to a long buried question —

Who is Park Jimin?

Beyond the worldwide renown Korean idol and a pretty face with killer vocals and dancing, the demon knows very little about who this person is, this person whom you adore so much. What is it that drew you to him specifically amongst the other members. He highly doubts its looks alone (you’re definitely not the shallow type), or maybe even the amount of talent because from what he gathered, all the members were pretty much on par with each other in all departments.

So what made Jimin special?

He really shouldn’t follow this rabbit down the hole, but he’s a demon by nature and impulsivity is practically his middle name. Without another second thought, he agrees with a nod of his head, “Okay.”

Curiosity really should be a sin.

He gets a blinding smile in response, eyes disappearing and pearly teeth on display (he spies the slight crooked front tooth that somehow only seems to add to the singer’s charm rather than a flaw). They walk off towards the room that acts as a communal dining area for the staff and artists themselves, the large selection of hot foods lined up like a buffet self-serve while there are tables available for anyone who wants to sit down for their meal. There’s only a few staff members gathered there, each preoccupied with their phones or simply grabbing a quick bite to eat before rushing back to where they’re needed.

The singer walks in and of the few people that are hanging around, he inclines his head in greeting to them. The demon has no choice but to follow in order to not draw suspicions (even though he gets a few raised eyebrows from wearing a full hood and mask but is ultimately brushed off).

“There’s a lot of choices here so please help yourself. Don’t be shy.” Jimin gestures, grabbing a plate and going for one of the rolls of kimbap. Though the demon has no intention of eating anything — for obvious reasons, he still makes the effort to thoughtlessly pick out random food items to place on his plate for the sake of keeping up the facade. He gets as far as two scoops of sweet and sour pork before the young idol turns to him and his eyes dart to his modest portion.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Uh…Yes?”

That immediately draws out a noise of disapproval, handsome face pinching along to match the tone. “Ah, Juyeon-ssi; you need to eat to keep up your strength. You can’t hold back on something as important as that.” Before any words of protest can be formed, a kimbap roll is placed on the empty space of the demon’s plate.

And then another.

And then a spring roll.

And then a hefty scoop of black bean noodles and some rice.

It goes on until his plate is adequately full, the idol satisfied as they migrate over to an empty table. The demon takes a seat and he feels his lips quirk as he observes the fact that Jimin’s own plate only consisted of two kimbap rolls and a few pieces of fruit he’s currently nibbling on. The stark contrast and adamancy is already so telling of his character, sans personal dietary considerations.

“Has the job been hard so far?” The singer asks casually.

“Not particularly….”

“Ah, that’s good to hear. Have people been nice to you?”

“Uh…Yeah, I guess.”

He gets a nod of approval, and the demon vaguely likens the feeling of a mother asking their child if their first day of school went well (or if he’s being generous, an older brother). It’s strange experiencing something so familial yet coming from the idol, it all seems so natural as if they’ve known each other for years and not just in the span of less than an hour.

It’s quite the culture shock — something he admittedly doesn’t have a good grasp on and it’s that curiosity to know that has him daringly (or perhaps, no doubt to his colleagues, foolishly) diving deeper. The wooden chopsticks in his hand push around the food on his plate meaninglessly, a gesture meant to disguise the hidden agenda he has; dissecting the idol and seeing what makes him tick.

His lips instinctively quirk under his mask but he makes sure that it doesn’t translate in his gaze as his eyes focus on the idol.

“I’m sure your job is much more tiring.” He says, taking on a tentative tone, implicating for an open ended discussion.

The singer takes a pause, eyes wandering in thought before he sucks in a breath after some serious considerations, “I don’t really think my job is any harder than some of the other staff here…” He stops, as if collecting his thoughts again and then continues, “I think it’s thanks to everyone’s efforts that the members and I are able to do these show successfully and safely. If I were to really break things down…. I really only do a small part.”

“But there’s no point to a show if there’s no performers.”

There’s a hum in reply to his statement but after the idol swallows the strawberry he’s popped into his mouth, he says, “I can see how you would say that, but I think more importantly, there’s no point to a show without the fans.”

The demon doesn’t miss the gentle affection that slips through — that quiet, soft whisper that carries the words near the end, giving way to something much deeper. It’s something he’s seen before, reflected in himself, and it’s whenever his thoughts wander to you.

Fondness.

His chest gives a twinge at the memory, jaw clenching a little as if to physically repress the feelings that begin to stir.

“You don’t even know the fans….” It comes out more as a low murmur to himself, but the contempt underlying his tone seeps through all the same. It’s just…. How could the idol possibly share the same sentiment he has with you, someone who he’s actually spent time with and come to know all the little quirks to — what makes you happy, sad, laugh, the way you laugh, the little noises you make when you eat something you love, see you at your highest and lowest points, with a group of people (not even a single person) who he’s had less than ten seconds worth of interactions?

It’s far too superficial, too scripted and said too many times with no real meaning. He wants to scoff at how impractical it is.

“Maybe so, but it goes beyond that.” The familiar sound of the idol’s lilt halts the demon’s thoughts quite suddenly, still in that soft spoken way but there’s something else with it. A sureness — steady and unwavering, and just the barest hints of….passive-aggressiveness?

That gets a quirk in the eyebrow; so this kitten does have claws after all.

“There are times where I wonder why there are so many people who like us and support us the way they do.” The singer continues seriously, already getting lost in deep thought. “Probably because we work hard, but who doesn’t work hard? Others make good music and do their best too so why us? We try our best to communicate to our fans but everyone does too…..These sorts of things are something I often think about.”

A pause, as if to find the right words, “But whenever I read the fan’s letters or things they post on SNS to us, saying how much we’ve helped them with our songs when they’re going through a hard time, it makes me realize that we’re not so different. We all have flaws and maybe it’s because we’re not perfect that they like us. Starting off with nothing and then little by little, seeing more people coming to support us…. They’re the ones who put us on the stage, so I— We cherish them a lot. They give us energy and comfort us, and we do the same back, like a deep connection, an understanding.”

The young singer stops in pushing around the remaining strawberry on his plate, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips, like he’s recalling a particularly pleasant memory. “So we want to give back by making good music and showing them our best. Ah, reminds of something really cool Namjoon-hyung said.” He takes the time to tilt his head, “He said how even if it’s just one person he could help, he’ll continue to keep trying. That really touched me, so even if we might not know them personally, they’re the ones who motivate us and makes all of this worth it.”

Once he finishes, the demon is left a little more than bewildered, overwhelmed in fact that all he could do was blink. Granted, it was a lot to take in, never having expected such an arduous confession but what’s even more baffling to him is the conviction the singer had saying all of it, so earnest in his words. Now, he’s no lie detector per se, but as a demon, he does have a more innate ability to pick up on cues and inflections that would give a person away, revealing their true nature. He’s used to it after all.

And then along comes Park Jimin.

This twenty-four some odd year old idol, thrusted into the cut-throat world that is the entertainment industry, young and bright-eyed, armed with nothing but potential, a good work ethic and a dream, yet comes out on the other side, a little bruised and scathed but otherwise, un-jaded; that young and bright-eyed innocence not diminished, instead it matured into something more resilient.

He can probably count on his finger how many people he can actually say that about. Hell, the only closest people that would qualify would be saints, and even that is debatable.

It’s....irritating because he’s faced with the fact that as much as he had wanted to dislike this person, he’s proven that he can’t.

A rush of air leaves his nose and he has to contain a rueful smile. “You’re a very admirable person Park Jimin-ssi. Not that many people keep to their beliefs so strongly like that.”

He gets a bashful giggle in return, light and melodic.

“Aish, what are you saying? I’m not all that impressive….I think I still have a lot to learn.” The singer almost whines from behind the back of his hand covering the open mouth smile he has. Once he calms, it softens. “All I really want is for the fans to remember BTS for our sincerity. I just hope that I’ve been able to help convey that so far.”

The demon lets out a breathy chuckle, finally getting up from his seat. He gazes down at this young man who’s face reflects his own yet wears it in such an entirely different way — glowing with a passion and radiance that is warm, sincere, kind, compassionate and loving.

Perhaps the way it’s meant to be worn.

And it’s with a bittersweet reluctance that the demon places a hand on the singer’s shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “Keep doing what you’re doing and never lose sight of yourself. As long as you remember what you’re doing this for, the sincerity of your members and you will be conveyed.”

Stormy grey eyes widen a fraction, a little confused as they blink up at him, clearly not expecting such encouragements (honestly, he didn’t expect this either yet here he is).

“Wh— Um, I—…” The idol reaches a hand up to comb through his meticulously styled hair, tousling a few loose strands as slowly, the apples of his cheeks begin to dust in a pink hue and dark eyes can’t help but watch on in amusement. As if sensing the focus shifting to his quickly reddening face however, the young man lets out a sputter and lightly smacks the demon’s forearm, refusing to meet his gaze. “Ahh Juyeon-ssi! What’s with you saying that all of a sudden to me? You sound as if you’re way older than me when we’re probably friends in age!”

Friends…

“What makes you think that?”

“W-Well… I don’t know how to explain it but…. I feel a sense of familiarity with you when we met. Like, a vibe….” The sentence pewters out into a shy mumble, the tips of his ears matching his cheeks now before comically, grey orbs whip up, suddenly concerned. “Unless you’re not….?”

The snort that leaves the demon’s mouth is quickly covered by clearing his throat but he’s sure the restrained mirth still reaches his eyes as he assures, “No, we’re friends.”

He’s met with a brilliant grin, full of teeth and a twinkle in his gaze. “Oh thank goodness. I would’ve died on the spot out of embarrassment.”

He refrains from rolling his eyes if only to dismiss the overly-dramatic relief that overcame the poor young man. But regardless, it’s his cue to go — he's starting to feel a little too perturbed being near someone so good-natured. With a final pat to his shoulder, the demon begins to depart.

“It was nice talking to you Park Jimin-ssi but you’ll have to excuse me, I have to get going now.”

“O-Oh? Is it really that time? If that’s the case— Ya! Kang Juyeon-ssi! Did you even touch your food? You—!”

“Jimin-hyung!”

“Oh?” Jimin’s attention whips to the new voice that called him from the still full plate of food left on the table. His eyes immediately meet doe-eyed ones, usually dark as coal but are currently a more lighter coffee colour, bringing out more of the brown that’s hidden in its depths thanks to the contacts. The youngest member approaches him with long strides, the sequins on his own stage outfit glitter with each step.

“This is where you were? Should’ve told me you were hungry, we could’ve gone to snack together.”

“Ah, no I was just talking with Juyeon-ssi.”

“Juyeon? Who’s that?”

“Kang Juyeon; that person who was just leaving, you must’ve seen him on your way in.”

But that only gets a head tilt from Jungkook, who swivels his head back towards the entrance, “He doesn’t sound familiar and I didn’t see anyone leaving.”

“….Huh?” Equally confused, Jimin swerves around the tall form of Jungkook to get a look however, to his surprise, he doesn’t see anyone. Glancing around lets him know that at most, there was only three other people in the room, excluding him and Jungkook but they were all immersed on the couch in the far corner, away from the entryway. Does Juyeon walk that fast?  “Aye, quit messing with me. He had on a face mask, around my height? With his hoodie pulled up; probably the only one here who does too.”

Jungkook shakes his head, genuinely clueless on who Jimin could possibly be referring to. “No, I swear I haven’t seen anyone around like that.”

The furrow in Jimin’s brows deepen, mouth falling open in disbelief. The scrunched up, troubled expression the older member makes was too good to pass up on teasing so Jungkook can’t help but to lean close, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“What? Were you speaking to a ghost this entire time hyung?”

“Aish! Don’t say that! That actually gave me chills!” Jimin scowls, smacking the youngest repeatedly on the arm and causing Jungkook to cackle and skip away from the assault.

“Anyways, Namjoon-hyung wants to go over the script again so I went to go find you.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then.”

Brushing down his jacket, Jimin gets up, taking both plates with him, discarding his own empty one while Jungkook gleefully takes the one Juyeon hadn’t touched. The two head out and begin to make their way back to the artist dressing room, with Jungkook talking around mouthfuls of food about what Jimin had apparently missed while he was away but all Jimin could think about was his meeting with Juyeon.

There’s no way he could’ve imagined it all in his head — he’s too young to be going senile. Plus, it felt too real for it to be some overworked hallucination (besides, he doesn’t feel that jet lagged). So there’s a perfectly, logical explanation for it. Yeah, he just…walks really fast.

“Jimin-hyung is here!” Jungkook calls out to the rest of the members. He gets a myriad of boisterous responses and greetings. The sound makes him inadvertently grin.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming. I didn’t think you would miss me that badly; I was gone for ten minutes.”

Thoughts of his mysterious friend are pushed away for some other time but the wise words he’s been given remain at the forefront of Jimin’s mind. Perhaps the next time he runs into Juyeon, he’ll treat him to a drink or two during the celebratory dinners — get to know him better.

He’s not sure what it is about Juyeon that makes him want to befriend him so intently, like there’s something about him….

Something that’s a little melancholy….and maybe, he dare say, a little lonely.

But to the singer’s dismay, he never really did see him again.

[setsuna-maru]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 半妖の夜叉姫 | Hanyou no Yashahime | Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon (Anime), InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha) Characters: Rin (InuYasha), Sesshoumaru (InuYasha), Setsuna (Hanyou no Yashahime), Naraku (InuYasha), Jaken (InuYasha) Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

After his fateful third encounter with his half-brother, Sesshoumaru meets, not a human girl, but an involuntary time-traveler. Determined to right the path he would've strayed from, the course of history is changed. Years later, an intoxicating scent blows in with the cold gust of a new spring and Sesshoumaru will cross paths with the woman who would've shaped his future.

And possibly still could.

Chapter 6

Sesshoumaru hasn’t seen or heard of the spider hanyo since they left him in pieces years before but he knows that tell-tale miasma stench anywhere. The fact that Naraku managed to survive is somehow less surprising than the fact that he’s confronting Sesshoumaru in person, rather than using a puppet. Or sending one of his detachments.

  Everyone is coming out of the woodwork, he mentally scoffs. First he catches wind of that human's scent and now back comes Naraku and his whole bothersome existence.

 That human woman was turning out to be just like her would-be daughter; a bad omen.

 "Naraku," he acknowledges his newly-reappeared enemy. Sesshoumaru tries to keep his voice as neutral as possible while still maintaining an aura of obvious contempt. Jaken immediately springs into action, cursing the spider and making threats on behalf of his master. 

 "I'm surprised you've decided to show your face again.” A face that had not visibly changed since their last confrontation. Other than being healed and fully-intact, Naraku looked much the same from the days when Sesshoumaru had become entangled in his complicated web. The one that included Inuyasha and his companions, among countless others.

 “When I, Sesshoumaru, and Kirinmaru of the Dawn confronted you years ago, you fled with your tail between your legs and did not return."

 Sesshoumaru had never believed Naraku defeated for good. They had only succeeded in chasing him back into hiding. Inuyasha and his band of friends had attempted to hunt him down and finish what the two daiyokais had started but with no luck. Whatever crevice the threatened spider wedged himself into had proven too dark and deep to find.

 "Only one of us here has a tail, Sesshoumaru," comes Naraku's reply.

 Sesshoumaru smirks. "You'd think with all your downtime Naraku, you would have better comebacks prepared."

 "You’re one to judge, Sesshoumaru,” he scoffs, then chuckles. “Why—You famously have a way with words."

 "How dare you insult Sesshoumaru-sama!" comes Jaken’s squawking defense. "He is a man of brilliant eloquence. That you’re ignorant of that is only based on the fact that such a great yokai would never waste his oratorical gifts on the likes of you!" Jaken shakes his Nintojo at the spider demon during his speech for emphasis.

 "Oh?" Naraku responds, skeptically. "And who  does he share them with? You, little yokai?"

 Jaken sputters as he tries to come up with a response.

 "Well, there's uh...uh...there is no one truly worthy of my master's poetry, you see! No one with whom he can converse on his own level—"

 "Jaken!" Sesshoumaru interrupts him, having had enough. "Silence."

 The imp stiffens and ceases his useless chatter.

 "Naraku; should Kirinmaru and I need to deal with you again? Is that the reason you've returned from whatever sinkhole you crawled up from?"

 "Threatening I, Naraku with the superior Beast King?"

 The spider's tone is ruthlessly mocking and Sesshoumaru narrows his eyes slightly as he imagines his claws bursting out the back of that boned armor.

 Where did this vermin get off, having that attitude? Like he hadn't been scared into hiding for all this time. Like they hadn't had him on the verge of death.

 "Go, Sesshoumaru," he teases. "Tug on Uncle Kirinmaru's hakama and tell Father's friend he needs to fight a battle for you again. I'm sure he's in a charitable mood."

 "This coming from one who so often relies on manipulating others into doing his dirty work for him," Sesshoumaru counters. “Aided or not, you were confronted with raw power and strength. Not detachments and trickery.”

 "Trickery'" Naraku repeats. “Manipulation of others.” His tone is placidly condescending. ‟You are no stranger to these, Sesshoumaru.”

 "It’s true,” Naraku admits. “I, Naraku, will use anyone and anything as a tool. But you, Sesshoumaru, are a  great daiyokai. Shouldn’t you have more faith in your own abilities?"

 “You’re correct that I’m a daiyokai,” he responds coldly, masking his rapidly dwindling patience with this interaction.

 “Unlike you, I don't derive my power from thousands of demon parasites. But all that means is that you have no right to say anything to me. You’re a disgusting thing, Naraku." He adds, "Like all hanyos.”

 Naraku is undeterred by the pushback. Being much too aware of Sesshoumaru's insecurities, he moves to a subject he's certain remains a sore spot.

 "I see you still don't carry Tessaiga at your hip. Am I to assume your half-brother, Inuyasha, retains possession of your father's fang?"

 Sesshoumaru’s mouth tightens. He hears Jaken gasp; appalled by the audacity of invoking Inuyasha’s ownership of the Tessaiga.

 "So it's me you've come to first to announce yourself, and not my hanyo brother," he points out. "Should I be flattered? Am I, Sesshoumaru, your new obsession?"

 “It was curiosity that brought me to seek you out first," Naraku says. "Was it not a human woman I discovered you conversing with the other day? It seemed like she had an awful lot to say to you.”

 Sesshoumaru fights to keep his face impassive. Unless Naraku had used a puppet, he should have been able to smell him or any of his detachments if they had been that close. Just what  form  of Naraku had been watching—And from where?

 “Humans are numerous and unavoidable, even to this one,” he responds, careful not to protest too forcefully.

 Naraku persists. “She approached you without fear or hesitation.”

 “Are you really expecting I, Sesshoumaru, to explain the behavior of a human?” Again, he treads lightly, measuring his response. He will use no more words of explanation than necessary. For a moment, he wonders why. It's not as if he's trying to protect her.

 He’s not.

 Sesshoumaru thinks back to the encounter by the river. The damn woman had been so eager to talk . Would she talk to Naraku?

 On the chance that she did, whether willingly or by force, what of it? Even if she told him all about Setsuna, she was entirely unaware of the girl’s true nature.

 And if Naraku managed to surmise that information regardless...well, it might actually work to Sesshoumaru’s advantage.

 Let the spider think he’d found a weakness of his to exploit. Let him try to use it against him. Sesshoumaru would stand proud, smugly belittle him for having such a ridiculous idea and show the fool just how little he cared.

 Sesshoumaru's hand goes to the battle sword at his left side. In one swift, fluid motion, he unsheathes Sōryūjin and makes a swipe at Naraku. His target dodges the blade and floats into the air.

 "Run to Uncle Kirinmaru," Naraku taunts him, his dark curling hair rising in a curtain above his pale head. "You'll find I, Naraku, will be ready for him."

 With that, the spider hanyo flew away, drifting off into the horizon.

 "Why, the nerve of him!" Jaken huffs.

 His vassal looks up at him, radiating with outrage. "Sesshoumaru-sama, will you go after Naraku? He's getting away!"

 "No, Jaken," he says to the imp's consternation. Sesshoumaru needed the opportunity to consider what action to take. Naraku was nothing but a pest, and if he was going to insist on infesting their lives once more, Sesshoumaru would destroy him for good. With or without the Eastern Lord's help.

Sesshoumaru asked Setsuna no further questions and ceased any appearance of cordiality. As far as he was concerned, this is where his business with her ended. He told her so, and in language he imagined to be as devastating and offensive as the situation deserved.

 (Years later, he’ll try to recall what exactly he said to her. He’d wanted to make it brutally clear just how he felt about the existence of half-demons but, for some reason, he hadn’t really wanted to insult her personally. In the end, he can’t remember if the generic condemnations he’s thinking of are things he’d actually said to   her  or lines he’d taunted Inuyasha with around the same time.)

  Tainted blood courses through your body...A hanyo whose mother is a human is a disgrace to all our kind...Don’t come near me again, stick to humans—It suits you...Infinitely vulgar beings...I won’t fall to a weakness of the heart...What can half-demons do? You’re useless to me...

  His contempt for humans and half-demon’s had stock phrases.

  Sesshoumaru had needed something to keep his mind occupied during long days of fruitless hunting for the Tessaiga. It was easy to become fixated on what had left him in that situation in the first place.

  For her part, Setsuna seemed deeply unimpressed.

  His cruel rejection of her is met by vacant boredom. If anything he had said had gotten under her skin, her face denied it. Inuyasha would have called him a bastard and made several clumsy attempts on his head by that point. Again, he was forced to recognize part of himself in her stoic refusal to be baited into a reaction.

  “Are you finished?” she asked, after one last condemnation of her as existential terror.

  “Do you understand that we are not to come into contact again? That you are to act as if we have no relationship to one another?”

  “It’s not as though that’ll take any getting used to," she replied sardonically.

  “Kirinmaru,” he reminded her. “Leave him to me. You’re not to seek him out for any reason.”

  Setsuna shrugged. “He’s no business of mine. I already told you; I declined that offer.”

  “Then there’s nothing else to discuss. We should not cross paths again.”

  With that, he turned his back on her. As far as he knew at the time, that might be the last he'd ever see of the girl; her back against the tree, arms folded, her face defiantly expressionless. 

  Would she ever make it back to her own time, to her sister? Sesshoumaru certainly wouldn't be worrying himself with such concerns. The only thing he cared about was that she stayed out of his way and didn't draw any attention to herself.

  Farewell, Setsuna; you're on your own.

  He wondered once more if he should go the extra step of ending her life. It would be the most convenient thing to do. He decided against it, telling himself it was because she still possessed pertinent knowledge of future events. Things it would help to know but hadn’t yet occurred to him to ask about. Never mind the fact that he’d just deliberately set that bridge on fire.

  His rationalization complete, Sesshoumaru’s thoughts turned to what to do about Kirinmaru. He wasn’t sure if it would be wise to confront him. Damn Inuyasha—The Tessaiga was wasted on him. What use did the hanyo have for such a powerful sword? What had their father expected his eldest to do if it ever came time for him to confront the Lord of the East?

  His desire for his own powerful fang was stronger than ever now. Totosai, the old geezer, would still refuse to forge him one. There were other swordsmith’s—None as good as Totosai, but Sesshoumaru wielding would more than make up for any deficiencies in craft.

  He wondered if his Other had ever succeeded in taking Tessaiga from Inuyasha. Or had that demoralizing failure only pushed him even further from his intended path?

  Setsuna might've known the answer to that; if he had thought to ask about it. But it doesn’t matter and it’s not worth dwelling over; he's already returned to the correct path; the roads have already diverged. He was the real Sesshoumaru and it was what he did from here on out that truly counted.

  All the same, the image of Setsuna's face lingered in his mind; it’s fine details memorized against his will. Pieces of their conversation play back to him and the voice that says   "we’re complete strangers"  with nothing indicative of caring is her own low one.

  He thought back to Tessaiga; that sword meant to be inherited by a half-demon; the sword that had protected Inuyasha's human mother. It's the only semi-rational explanation for what his Other had done but...perhaps, Setsuna’s birth had been an experiment. A last ditch effort at taking Tessaiga for himself.

  Lack of compassion for humans was supposedly what had repelled Sesshoumaru from wielding it with his own hands. Would he really have gone that far in pursuit of his father’s fang? If the experiment had proven to be a failure then, that would explain why his other self and his progeny were strangers.

  There was a part of him that would like to believe in that scenario but, ultimately, he can’t. (Hanyo or not, he would never abandon his children.) But again, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the reasons for what the Other had done, that future wasn’t his anymore.

  Regardless, as things stood then and there, Tessaiga remained stubbornly outside his grasp. He still would need a blade sufficient enough to battle any opponent; from his lowly half-brother, to Naraku to, potentially, Kirinmaru.

Sesshoumaru had a notorious swordsmith to seek out. Kaijinbo would craft him an impressive blade, he was sure of it. He just needed to locate a suitable fang.

[moveslikebucky]

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Indiana Jones Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Arnold Ernst Toht, Sallah (Indiana Jones), Rene Belloq Additional Tags: Indiana Jones Fusion, Canon Compliant, If You Squint - Freeform, Pulp Adventure, nazis but they all die, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Mutual Pining, Ark of the Covenant, References to Ancient Egypt, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fade to Black, slight mentions of trueforms, more tags to be added probably

@yamisnuffles did some screencap redraws a long time ago, and I was powerless to do anything except write this fusion.  Life had, unfortunately, gotten in the way for quite a while.  But now I’m back to it!  And the first order of business was extensive edits and tense changes to the original chapters!  The first one is up today, the second will be up on Thursday, and chapter 3 will be up next Thursday! <3

This is Raiders of the Lost Ark - but with Aziraphale and Crowley.  What happens when an angel and a demon try to thwart the Nazis and occult-obsessed archaeologist Rene Belloq by beating them to the Ark of the Covenant?  This, apparently xD

Shout outs to @narumikaiko for amazing beta work and @luritto for being my constant cheerleader in this <3 Also to everyone in all of the GPH discords I love you all so much <3

---

Oxford University; 1936.

The clutter around Aziraphale’s office is second only to the clutter in his bookshop.  Despite this, everything has its proper place.  After almost six millennia, the angel has truly nailed down the concept of “organized chaos”.

He still isn’t sure why he decided to take up a position as a History Professor at Oxford.  It has proven to be more of a bother than anything else at this point.

Heaven certainly hadn’t charged him with it; they rarely charge him with anything these days.  The world had become quite volatile in this century and souls were streaming in one way or another without any of his help.

Truth be told, he’d been quite bored.  Old bookshops and dead authors were the only company for a lonely angel.

He’d considered it a stroke of luck when one of his regular customers was appointed vice-chancellor and offered him a job; he hadn’t really had a reason to refuse.

Aziraphale finds passing knowledge on to the next generation rewarding.  His knowledge of antiquities and religious artifacts in particular is extremely appreciated at the school and among his academic peers.

Even so, any time Sir George Hill comes creeping around to his office, he begins to suspect it’s all a very bad joke.  The infamous Director and Principal Librarian of the British Museum has never once visited his office with good news.

“Dr. Fell, surely you know how valuable your work has been to the Museum,” the director says while idly shuffling through the papers and tomes that litter Aziraphale’s desk, “You’ve been completely indispensable to us these past years.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Aziraphale huffs as he follows behind the man and puts papers back in their proper (if disorganized) place, “And I’m also sure I want nothing to do with whatever it is you want for the museum this time. Those artifacts belong to the cultures that created them!  I’ll stake my entire reputation on that.”

“And yet they’re all cultures of the Empire,” Hill says with a laugh, picking up an ancient-looking scroll and turning it over in his hands.  “It’s not theft if it’s just relocation.”

Hill grins at him in that particularly slimy way of his.  It makes Aziraphale sick to his stomach, these outdated Victorian modes of thinking.  Everything belongs to the person with the most money and the most guns.  Some things are too much, even for heavenly intervention.

After the last instance in Peru (which culminated in being chased by a boulder, nearly crushed by a stone door, and nearly being skewered with arrows) he’d decided he was finished helping the museum in their fools’ errands.

“Or call it borrowing, if it makes you feel better,” Hill adds, sensing Aziraphale’s disdain. “Besides, it’s not me who wants your help this time.”

“Oh, it had better not be that blowhard Carter, I’ve had enough of him to last a lifetime.” Aziraphale says as he practically rips the scroll from Hill’s hands, “And please do stop touching everything, I have it all in perfect order!”

Hill shrugs, “It’s SIS, Dr. Fell.  I’m afraid you can’t wiggle your way out of this one, old boy.”

“SIS?  British military intelligence?” Aziraphale scoffs, “You must be joking, what on earth do they need with a history professor?”

“They didn’t tell me, only wanted me to put them in touch with you, hence my presence in your office now.” Hill looks around with mild revulsion at the chaos of Aziraphale’s office, “Tell me, does old Lindsay really have no issues with the mess here?”

“The Vice-Chancellor allows me whatever I need to get my job done,” Aziraphale says proudly. “As to the state of my office, I’ll have you know it’s perfectly organized in a way I see fit.”

“Yes, quite obviously,” Hill says, surveying the room with a judgemental gaze.

“Well if it’s British Intelligence I doubt they’ll let me be,” the angel sighs, resigning himself to his fate, “When am I to meet them?”

“They made us a lunch appointment for tomorrow afternoon, I understand it’s at the Ritz of all places.” He turns to leave before adding, “One o’clock- don’t be late, Dr. Fell!”

Aziraphale steadies  himself against the desk as the door closes.

The Ritz.  How pretentious could they be?

[Continue Reading on AO3]

[uraichievents]

UraIchi PC4 2019 Masterlist

Here’s a list of all the works submitted for PC4! I’ve ordered them in by prompt number under each work type, and it looks like we came pretty close to finishing the whole table! Thank you to everyone who participated this year~

FANFICS

Third Eye Blind by DevinePhoenix [#02]

Long before Kisuke was blinded by Askin, his eyes had already been damaged.

Patchwork Soldier by DevinePhoenix [#02]

When they wake up, they will have to deal with what their decisions have wrought. He will have to cope with his injuries and Kisuke will have to cope with his scars and guilt. But they still have time before that morning of uncertainty. In the dusty twilight of the Soul King’s realm, they could rest together and dream of a better ending.

Death Gods by Chaos_Greymistchild [#03]

AU in which Kisuke is still a mad scientist with only slightly more morals than the rest of them, but Ichigo is a vampire/death-dealer/human hybrid, a legal executioner, and (still) the world’s most recent supernatural anomaly.

The long avaited encounter by SueGra [#04]

Kurosaki Ichigo left Karakura after he lost his power. Urahara Kisuke listened to Isshin and he broke up with Ichigo. Somebody killed the rogue shinigami and his partners. Urahara went after the person who killed them and he was surprised. Who was it?

Wrong Side of Reality by Starrie_Wolf [#06]

If there was one thing that every invader of Soul Society did wrong, it was that each and every one of them measured one's power by the strength of their reiatsu alone. And every single one of them failed, because they did not understand that to be truly powerful, one must first have the Means to ensure their plans succeed.

He, who has been watching from the shadows for a thousand years, refuses to make the same mistake.

By Invitation Only by FeelingFredly [#10]

“No weapons are allowed past this point.  Please move forward to the weapons check and place them in the tagged locker.  You will be given the code to retrieve them when you leave.”

Ichigo turned on his heel as if to follow the robot’s directive, only to stop and spin back, trench knife in one hand and katana in the other, the smooth swing of the blades separating the brassneck’s head from his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing over the sparking remains, “but I refuse to make Aizen-sama’s acquaintance so underdressed.”

Kisuke snorted in his ear.  “No one is there to hear your dramatics, Kurosaki-kun.”

Ichigo kicked the head to one side, like a soccer ball. “You know that you’re the only audience I need, Kisuke."

stay with me (until the sun rises) by Fox_the_Hermit [#12]

Ichigo is friends with a great deal of supernatural entities. The one monster under every bed in town is his favourite, though.

these dreams like ashes float away by howls [#12]

Ever since Ichigo refused to leave something well enough alone, a shadow man would visit him once, or twice, a month. (What he never realized was that there was more going on in those moments than the shadow man would reveal. For now, at least. He could never refuse Ichigo for long.)

Gambit without Guarantee by Starrie_Wolf [#18]

How did everything go so wrong so quickly?

new life, same shit by Chaos_Greymistchild [#19]

Not all knowledge is gained through the Gate of Truth. Not all reincarnates are born with their memories. Ichigo’s not sure how comfortable he is with this knowledge.

Arsenic by FeelingFredly [#20]

He was poison and he'd accepted that fact. Now if only everybody else would.

Police Tricycle (or: it’s not a buddy cop if I’m the third wheel, says Rukia) by Chaos_Greymistchild [#21]

Ichigo chases Szayelaporro Gantz down the highway in a high-speed car chase with a grenade launcher cameo. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Winds of Change (Tempest) by Sky_King [#24]

When the war is over and Ichigo has won, fate will come back to get her due.

Ichigo gambled and gave everything away in exchange for power, and finally the price paid has to be claimed.

(When the war is over, Kisuke finds himself adrift, too guilty to live, too guilty to die. He carries on, fueled by that single promise, trying to find a reason for being.And when he does, he'd sooner kill the Soul King himself than let it disappear, no matter the cost.)

Whip It Good by FeelingFredly [#25]

You didn't live a life like Kisuke's without developing a few interesting preferences, but he knew they weren't for everyone, and really, his relationship with Ichigo was more than he could have ever asked for--loving and supportive in ways he still wasn't sure he deserved. It was just very vanilla. Which was fine. Really.

So why he was "just visiting" at his old BDSM club?

The very bad, terrible, no good first few days of Junior SID Agent Dokugamine Riruka by Starrie_Wolf [#27]

Sometimes, Dokugamine Riruka wishes she could go back to her 22-year-old self and tell her to choose another department, any other department, she’s got the grades to take her pick.

Berry Nice by Chaos_Greymistchild [#28]

“Can I kiss you?"

“If you don’t,” Kisuke said with remarkable control, “I think I might do something regrettable.”

“Okay.”

Calling You (Maybe) by EternalEclipse [#29]

Ichigo never answers his phone, and Kisuke always does.

building a future (and tearing down the past) by EternalEclipse [#30]

At first, Ichigo had just been an invention of Kisuke's, nothing more than a gear to be moved. A pawn. It was only natural that after the war, Kisuke left him to his own devices--they'd won, which was the best he could ask for. As it turns out, once he starts making things for Ichigo instead of just countering Aizen, it's a hard habit to break. By the end of it, he won't even want to.

Or, five times Kisuke made things with Ichigo in mind, and one time Ichigo asked him to destroy something.

Companionship (Stay with Me) by Nikolaila [#31]

People are people, even in space. Sometimes the required conversations in relationships are hard to have but necessary to hold.

Tsuki no Tsuppane by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf [#32]

They have scarcely begun to unravel the complex web of Aizen no Sōsuke's treason when Kisuke is made aware of another layer to the conspiracy, one that threatens to expose all the secrets he has not yet decided if he will share with Ichigo-no-mikoto.

Few enough people are willing to accept onmyōji, but even fewer will be willing to accept that their lover is not even human.

Work/Date Balance by Starrie_Wolf [#33]

Kisuke doesn't seem to really grasp the meaning of a date, but it's okay, Ichigo loves him anyway.

“So… are you doing your usual fainting damsel imitation, or shall I take care of it?”

(Interlude during their vacation in London.)

a breath of fresh air by Fox_the_Hermit [#34]

Ichigo refuses to let Kisuke win yet another round of the "I took a cute photo of you and I'll use it to fund my experiments" game. Mostly on principle.

The world is changing by Starrie_Wolf [#35]

They’ve been doing this for so long that Kisuke has no idea how to wake up in a world where he doesn’t need to prioritise the Hōgyoku over his family.

Interlude: the day after Aizen's defeat.

Accidental Pokèmon Acquisition by EternalEclipse [#36]

Ichigo had never wanted to be a pokèmon trainer. To be flat honest, the ghosts kept him busy enough. But when Monferno fell into his life with a burst of laughter and trouble, Ichigo is drawn into a side of the pokèmon world he didn't even know existed.

Or the one where there are both ghosts and pokèmon, the Gotei 13 is a government organization with as many checks and balances as ever, and Ichigo will do whatever it takes to keep his own safe.

Feeling Horny by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf [#36]

When Urahara shoved Ichigo to Hirako to learn how to control his inner Hollow, Ichigo thought it meant Urahara wasn’t Hollowfied.

He was wrong.

the fear is eating you alive / so I'll be your reason, I'll be your shelter by Chaos_Greymistchild [#37]

Sometimes, Kisuke doesn’t remember where he is, or who he is in his own personal timeline. Sometimes, Ichigo is more Hollow and instinct than human. But that’s okay.

one-sided understanding by Angst_Distribution_Service (Fox_the_Hermit) [#37]

suspended animation (patiently waiting for the end) by Chaos_Greymistchild [#38]

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck is new on the starship Zangetsu, piloted by Captain Kurosaki alongside his AI Urahara Kisuke, who seems to have an… unprecedented freedom on board the ship, if she was being entirely honest.

Freedom worth Fighting (for) by Starrie_Wolf [#39]

Things have a way of coming full circle...

You Haven't Lost Me by FeelingFredly [#40]

Ichigo has moved on. It doesn't matter if his Shinigami powers are gone--he's a weapon, and there was always a market for that skill set. Currently that skill set was being tasked to collect the oyabun's past due tribute from a troublesome shopkeeper.

Troublesome shopkeeper. No... it couldn't be.

What they don't understand by Starrie_Wolf [#42]

Ichigo comes back from winter break with bruises he can't explain and a significant other who looks to be much older than him.

His classmate thinks she's put two and two together.

With Affection by wynnebat [#44]

"Yoruichi asked me if I had any family," Ichigo says. His gaze rests on the courtyard and squad buildings across from them while Kisuke cannot look away. Ichigo's voice is even, but Kisuke knows better than that. Ichigo adds, wryly, "I told her all I needed was you."

painting in blood by Chaos_Greymistchild [#45]

“It’ll be fine.”

He hopes that that proves true.

You Don't Have a Soul, You Are a Soul (You Have a Body) by FeelingFredly [#47]

Kisuke has a disregard for his own safety a mile wide and it's enough to drive Ichigo mad. This time he finds the shopkeeper unconscious but not alone, and the woman with him has some very interesting things to say.

Thunder For Bells In This Church Of Two by Chaos_Greymistchild [#48]

“[Resonance for a human is] total, complete, irreversible blending” -- Bell Tolls, esama

For the shinigami, it is... less so.

wear your soul (outside your body) by Fox_the_Hermit [#48]

Ichigo has no idea how he ended up with someone so brilliant. Kisuke has no idea how he got lucky enough to end up with one of the best people he's ever met.

your heart doesn't beat (let me teach it to) by Fox_the_Hermit [#52]

Kisuke understands that his time to go has come. It's time to accept that he can't hang around forever. His dear friend Ichigo has agreed to help him with finding what is needed to help him move onwards, whatever that really means. (Except he’s not ready to let go.)

roots in my lungs, blooms on my tongue by Chaos_Greymistchild [#55]

Astilbes, dahlias, and Queen Anne’s Lace. Patience, devotion, sanctuary.

Will you become my... by SueGra [#57]

The war with Ywhach has ended two years ago. Everybody enjoying the peace. Suddenly all captains get an invitation to the Shiba compound because there is a new clan head? Who is she/he?

Happily Ever After by Starrie_Wolf [#58]

Ichigo wasn't expecting a happily ever after, but it seems like he could find a little peace at last.

Omega as Fish Oil by EternalEclipse [#59]

Yeah, Ichigo's an omega. He's fine with it, especially since some of the instincts that come along with it are useful for protecting his own. What he's not fine with are a bunch of shinigami noble knotheads deciding that he's up for the taking because of it. Luckily, he's got a Kisuke to help him set them straight.

You are my Sanity by OrangeTeaMoon [#60]

And so, it had taken Urahara Kisuke nearly 4 months, 1 week, 3 days and a direct run-in with an absolutely impossible apparition of Kurosaki Ichigo to realize that he had lost his mind.

reach the epilogue (and then take it from the top again) by Fox_the_Hermit [#61]

Ichigo's alive and healthy and whole. But too many people aren't (friends, family, the one single crush that hasn't had the time to get anywhere), and this isn't an epilogue to his story that's worth living in. He'd rather rewrite the whole damn thing from scratch.

Only the truth you want to see by Starrie_Wolf [#61]

Growing up as the daughter of a police detective father and a novelist mother, it’s no small wonder that Rika chose to study English Literature in university. The class is unavoidably small – even for Todai,finding students interested in pursuing a degree in the classics of a foreign country is a difficult matter.

Which makes all her classmates so unavoidably interesting.

Especially that Kurosaki Ichigo.

I'm a Certified Genius, I Swear by Chaos_Greymistchild [#64]

Kisuke’s not quite sure why he keeps getting gifts from the Shiba Clan Head, Shiba Ichigo, but— Hiyori please stop laughing please.

-0-

FANART

UraIchi PC4 Prompt #32 - Magic AU / Mythology AU / Fantasy AU by @ananfer [#32]

UraIchi PC4 Prompt #48 - Daemons AU by @junoagriffin [#48]