#the prize tasks this series have been so good

[origami-trust]

new favorite prize task as of Australia S3E9 :

"Prize: Our contestants have been asked to bring in what they consider to be: the object that, if they got Pompeii'ed whilst holding, future civilisations would question."

💯

[thewidowsledger]

The Call

Chapter 4: Keep Your Eyes On The Prize | 4.2k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: slow burn, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, drooling for Natasha's arms, some kid slapping some sense to reader because denial is a river in Egypt!!!!!!

Author's Note: This is the fluffiest thing I ever wrote >< I dedicate this chapter for sharkie🦈 since it's their birthday!Happy Birthday, Sharkiedut!!!🥰🥙💪

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You adjusted your earpiece, speaking into the mic.

“All teams in position,” you said, your voice calm and steady despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your gaze flickered between the screens displaying the security feeds, watching your teams every move through their body cams.

“This happens fast, it goes smoothly,” you continued, your eyes never straying from the monitors. “You move as we practiced...no one gets hurt.” The words is an order, a firm reminder to your team to remain focused and vigilant.

“Yes, ma'am.”

You stood back, your arms folded across your chest, watching your team intently. They had gone over the plan countless times, trained and practiced relentlessly for this moment. Everything was in place, and the odds were in your favor—but you are worried.

You knew deep down that your worry was misplaced. It was entirely inappropriate for you to be feeling this way.

Yet, your eyes darted up to the corner monitor, revealing Natasha's position at the end of the hall. She was one of the few team members isolated from the others, but her strength would be crucial if they had to restrict access to the windows and stairwells.

She looked calm, focused, her hands resting on her gun. Your heart clenched, but you tried to push the worry away, telling yourself that she could handle herself.

“Hey, boss?”

You switched over to a private channel, unconcerned that it might look suspicious. “Natasha…”

“Sorry,” she replied, her voice tinged with a smile.

“No, what is it?” you asked softly—too softly, goodness.

“I uhm…” She sighed, and anyone else who would have started a conversation like this would've gotten an earful from you about how you weren't a therapist. And if they chicken out, they shouldn't be in your team in the first place, “Are you sure you're safe…over?”

You couldn't help but bite down on your lip, suppressing a smile. You were sitting in the secure location of the command center, with perfect visibility of your team. “The area's been cleared,” you stated, trying to keep your tone calm and reassuring. “We're perfectly safe.”

Natasha shifted nervously, her voice lowering to a murmur. “You're right,” she mumbled, her anxiety clear in her words. “I just...I worry.”

You knew deep down that Natasha was far too kind-hearted for this line of work, you stopped seeing her the way you did back then—when she was still your mission. You knew she was an excellent home cook, she loves peanut butter sandwich—

“What if they know where you are?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

“They don't,” you assured her with a tone as firm as you could muster. This was the first time you had to remind her to keep her focus on the task at hand and this was the first time she was on a mission with you. Though deep down, you secretly relished the sweetness that she so effortlessly radiated.

“I guess they'd be in for something else even if they did,” her chuckle echoed through the communication line, “I wouldn't wanna face down the Furious daughter.”

And you couldn't help but let out a faint laugh in response. She heard it and there was no doubt that she knew.

“Focus, Natasha.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” It sounded dangerously like flirting when she called you that. Your mind immediately flashed back to the memory of a week ago, when the two of you had found yourselves in a cramped space, playing some dangerous game for the sake of satisfying your team and co-workers’ mind about what they thought was really happening inside the 7 Minutes of Heaven.

“I can't believe I just wasted those minutes in silence when I can have this with you.”

Your mind is now drifting to dangerous places.

“Natasha,” you curse yourself silently for speaking before you could stop yourself, but your fingers dug into your palms as your heart thumped wildly against your ribcage.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” you managed to say, reciting the line you always say to your team every mission. You couldn’t believe you would be saying this to her now, “No unnecessary risks.”

Natasha's bodycam moved as she straightened up, her voice finishing your sentence with a familiar phrase. “Get in, get out,” she echoed, her words holding a note of determination that reassured you.

“Just,” you paused, your throat tight and dry. “Come back...to me.”

Now, that wasn't a part of the script.

“Alive!” you rushed out to add on, “come back to me alive!”

A few seconds of tense silence hung in the air on her end, and suddenly, the safety of the room was doing nothing to quell the heat that was coursing through your veins.

“Count on it,” she responded, her tone suddenly far more earnest and serious than before.

You exhaled sharply, your eyes glued to her bodycam as you spoke sternly, “Romanoff, I'm serious.”

“So am I,” she responded quickly and reassuringly. “We'll be back before you know it, boss.” You returned to your anxious pacing, time ticking away too quickly for your liking. Your fingers gripped the edge of the table, your heart hammering against your chest.

“You better mean that,” you repeated, watching the team's progress through the cameras. The door opened and the smoke bombs went off, momentarily blurring Natasha's camera feed. You heard her voice crackle through the communication line.

“Y/N, I promise.”

⧗

As you checked in on the status of your team, a sense of relief washed over you. Each member was accounted for, their body cameras and comm lines crackling with the sound of their breathless but satisfied voices.

The mission unfolded as it was supposed to. The team acted with speed and confidence, and their months of training and practice paid off. Every move they made was a result of countless hours spent drilling and strategizing, and it showed in their seamless execution of the plan. When the mission was finished, the team counted their blessings that not a single member had suffered any injuries.

You began the debriefing process, going through each member of your team one by one. You spoke with them individually, discussing their performance and asking about any challenges they faced during the mission.

“How did it go out there? Any significant obstacles you encountered?”

“No major setbacks, ma'am. Everything went smoothly from my end.”

You smiled and offered your member a smile and a pat before going to the last member of your team.

“Romanoff.” You called authoritatively, chin up, your hands locked together on your back.

“Y/N…” Natasha hitched, remembering that she’s in the work setting and you both are not in private comms, “Ma'am.”

“You came back.”

“Alive, ma'am. As I promised.”

As you should, you thought in your mind.

“How’s your first on field mission?”

Natasha blinked, she looked everywhere but not you and your very observing nature noticed something about her physical actions but you chose to ignore it anyway.

“I-it was intense, ma'am.”

“Hm.”

Natasha's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as she struggled to form a coherent response. She stuttered and stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say next, but she knew she had to even if you only responded with a hum, she didn't want to lose this connection with you. She would do anything just to be connected with you in any way.

“Natasha, it's just us.” You finally broke a smile to the redhead as you watched her exhale deeply, as if letting go of some of the tension she had been holding onto. Her eyes finally met yours, and a hint of vulnerability shone through her eyes.

“Just us.” She repeated in a mutter.

Her gaze darted anxiously from your face to the wall and back again, her fingers fidgeting restlessly with the hem of her uniform. There was a brief moment of hesitation, her breath catching in her throat as she swallowed hard.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Again, too soft Y/N, too soft.

“I was wondering,” she began, her voice surprisingly steady despite the nervousness that was evident on her face and you could see it, “If you’d like to...go with me to Mr. Stark’s party tonight? I-I was invited and yeah...”

It was not very mindful and appropriate to ask out someone after a mission, is it? And the fact that it is also your boss? How bold are you? But for Natasha it’s now or forever hold your peace.

“Oh…” you bite your lip, trying not to rip out any smile. You were shocked, you didn’t see that one coming.

Your father had told you about the party and as usual you would always go with him as plus one even though Tony also sent his separate invitation to you.

And how did she even get an invitation from Stark anyway?

“Natasha, I…” you trailed off thinking on what to say, you didn't want to hold her hopes high but you didn't want to hurt her either which is very not you by the way, “I’m sorry but I'm actually going with dad.”

“Sir Fury, yeah, I figured that one out.”

She held her head down for a brief second and you did not have to see her face for you to see her disappointment.

“Hey I’ll see you there, yeah?” you assured quickly and softly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, finally eyeing you, “I will see you.”

⧗

You felt a pang of boredom as the party came Into view, the same familiar faces of wealthy businessmen and socialites gathered around, sipping cocktails and chatting amongst themselves. You mentally prepared yourself for the same old conversations and small talk that came with these events.

As you walked, crossed your arms over your father’s. He glanced down next to you. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips before speaking.

“Is my princess seeing someone?” he asked, keeping his tone light—but clearly he was teasing.

“Pop…” you groaned.

“Sir Fury,” Banner all of a sudden came to the view, greeting you and your father, “Y/N…” He went to hug you, bringing his cheeks to yours. Then, he turned to your father, offering a firm handshake.

Your father met Bruce’s gaze, his eyes intense as they shook hands. You couldn't be sure if you were just imagining it, but it almost seemed like your father’s grip on Bruce’s hand was tightening.

Banner spoke up after exchanging formalities with your father, “I hope you enjoy the party.”

Your father’s expression remained stoic, giving no indication of any thoughts or suspicions he might have. He nodded slightly in response to Banner’s comment, but his gaze remained fixed on his face before he excused himself.

“No wonder why your princess is not seeing anyone.” You said in a sigh, facing your father. You gently placed your hands on to fix his suit, “Pop, please be easy on Banner. He’s just being nice.”

“And please, stop assuming that everyone who talks to me likes me,” you smiled as you patted his chest lightly.

“I just don't want you to get hurt again.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before reassuring him, “I won’t, pop.”

As you walked away, your father shouted, “We leave at 10!” He then winced at himself for setting a curfew on her grown up daughter, now that just proved how overprotective a father he is.

The first thing you did as you separate ways with your father was to search for a familiar flash of red hair. You weaved through the crowd, politely nodding and smiling at people you recognized, but what you didn’t know, Natasha had been watching you from the moment you entered the party. Her eyes followed your every move, taking in the way you moved through the crowd and interacted with the other guests.

As Natasha began to start walking in your direction, her path was interrupted by Tony, who approached her with a cheerful infuriating smile on his face.

“Just the woman I was looking for.”

“Not right now.”

“But you were my assistant.” He pouted disappointingly before creeping into a smirk.

“I was and that’s not your call anymore.” Natasha hissed.

Your father had actually given Natasha an undercover assignment to work for the Ironman. So well, Natasha had been working undercover for your father, secretly doing missions for him. And this was a fact that you were not aware of, and it was the reason behind why she suddenly became uneasy when you asked her about her first on-field mission, because the reality is that it was never her first on-field mission as a SHIELD agent.

So now, the chances of you seeing her with Tony had brought her to edge.

“Furious one!”

Tony’s voice boomed as he greeted you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

Natasha stood off to the side, watching the interaction with a growing sense of unease. Her cover might potentially be compromised.

Tony’s eyes rove over your outfit. “That dress fits you like a glove, doll.”

Now she had to hear the nasty comments Tony threw your way, but you seemed so used to his remarks and you simply giggled in response.

“Pepper gifted me this dress, just so you know.”

“Of course, my girlfriend has a great taste.”

Suddenly you smiled warmly at Natasha who was standing behind Tony, and he observed the exchange with keen interest. He turned his gaze back to Natasha, his smirk growing slightly wider. The pieces were falling into place, and he couldn't help but wonder how long this little secret had remained hidden.

“You know each other, doll?” Tony asked you with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, she’s my agent.”

Meanwhile, Natasha’s heart skipped a beat at your words. She hoped that Tony wouldn’t press further, but knowing his nature, it was a slim chance.

“Oh so Rushma—I mean Romanoff is your agent?”

Tony continued to toy with the redhead, his gaze locked on hers as he slowly pushed her buttons. He knew he was getting under her skin, and he was enjoying every second of it. Tony’s taunting was calculated, and he could see the subtle shifts in Natasha’s demeanor as she tried to keep her cover intact.

But you, on the other hand, did not notice a thing.

“Yeah she is.”

“Hm, how interesting.” Tony nodded, slowly turning to look at the redhead who cannot contain her growing anxiety.

“You two know each other?”

Now it’s time for you to throw the question back.

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly as you posed the question, she felt the weight of Tony’s gaze on her, however, before Tony could respond, he was interrupted by someone calling out his name during the party, diverting his attention away from you and Natasha.

“Y/N, I have to go.” He brought you in a quick hug, “You should go see Pepper later.”

“Rushman,” he said with a smirk only for Natasha to see as he bid goodbye to the undercover agent.

You watched as Tony quickly disappeared from the crowds and you turned your attention to Natasha and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about Tony, he loves giving nicknames to people.” You apologized, unaware that the name was in fact her alias as undercover.

Natasha forced a polite smile in response, her mind racing. She wondered how long she would be able to keep up this façade, especially given Tony’s penchant for causing chaos.

She cleared her throat, trying to divert the conversation away from the previous tension.

“Y-you look beautiful,” she said, trying to sound casual. But as the words left her mouth, Natasha was acutely aware of the heightened tension that hung in the air. She silently cursed herself for her choice of words, knowing that it only made things more complicated than they already were.

“Oh…thanks.” You gave a slight nod, your lips curving upwards in a warm smile. “I like your jacket,” you added, referring to her black leather jacket she used to wear even in the headquarters or work. You always notice her wearing it as if it’s a part of her body.

“Thanks.”

“Do you wanna get out of here? I know a spot.”

She was stunned by the offer but she immediately nodded. Her heart thudded against her chest as she followed you to the elevator. When you mentioned that you knew a spot, she didn’t think it would be outside of Tony’s place.

Natasha watched you as you stepped out of the door of the building and shivered against the cold night air. She immediately slipped off her leather jacket and walked towards you, she draped it over your shoulders with a swift movement. Her fingers slightly brushing against the skin of your shoulders. And you were taken aback by the gesture, if you were alone you would’ve punched her right now but you know she was trailing behind you.

“Here,” she said softly, her breath hot against your skin. “You can wear this.”

“T-thanks,” you managed to stammer out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“So where are we going?” She asked as she stood beside you watching the vehicles pass down the road.

Your eyes unintentionally wandered down her arms, drawn to the visible veins tracing the lengths of her limbs. Your throat suddenly felt dry, and a cough escaped you as you choked faintly. Heat rose to your cheeks as you hoped fervently that Natasha hadn't caught you staring at her arms.

You tried to maintain your composure, forcing a smile that came out somewhat awkward and strained. “It’s not far,” you managed to say, your voice betraying the fluster you felt. “I hope you eat shawarma.”

⧗

“So, do you come here often?”

You took a bite of the shawarma you ordered for the two of you, savoring the delicious taste before responding. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a bit muffled by the food in your mouth.

The place was a bit far from the party city of New York. It had a rustic charm, being an older restaurant in a quiet and cozy setting.

“I come here whenever I feel stressed and just want to get away from everything…but not too far away from everything if you know what I mean.” You paused for a moment, then added with a small laugh, “And, of course, when I’m craving for some good shawarma.”

You looked over at Natasha, holding out her shawarma for a moment, “How is it? Good, right?”

Your eyes lingered on the shawarma in her hand, captivated by her fingers gripping the food, before your gaze flicked back up to her face.

Natasha smiled, a small curve of her lips as she savored the taste. “Yeah, it’s good,” she agreed, taking another bite.

As you continued eating, Natasha's gaze was drawn to your face. A small amount of shawarma sauce clung to the corner of your mouth—something you'd missed when trying to wipe it away.

“Oh there's uhm…”

Natasha's hand halted in mid-air, as if she was about to reach out and help. Awkwardly, you brushed away whatever was on your face, feeling a slight flush at the almost-intimate gesture of the redhead trying to help you.

Your attention was drawn to the sight of America, a server from the restaurant, walking by. You quickly called out to her, with a smirk on your face. “Kiddo, why are you still here working? Don't you have school tomorrow?”

The moment America noticed, a bright smile lit up her face. “Y/N!” she greeted, her voice cheerful despite the late hour. In her eagerness, she rushed toward you, enveloping you in a tight hug. You found yourself briefly trapped mid-bite, the shawarma held awkwardly in one hand as you reciprocated the embrace with your free arm.

America couldn't contain her excitement, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to speak. “Y/N! I can’t believe you're here! I missed you so much! It’s been years!” she almost cried.

“I’m here now kid, how are you?”

“I’m okay. School sucks.”

As America pulled away from you, her gaze flicked to Natasha, and a look of confusion crossed her face, followed by a recall of a memory.

“Are you married now?” she blurted out, her voice filled with innocent curiosity. “Is she your—”

“No kid, I’m not and she’s not…” You immediately stopped her before she could speak miles away in front of the redhead.

“Well you told me that when you come back here you’re already married, and she’s definitely not the one you brought here back then.”

Now you cannot pick up with her…she’s miles away already.

The silence seemed to stretch between you and America, the kid still trying to comprehend the situation. And you could feel Natasha’s curious and worried gaze on you.

This is awkward.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the complex situation. “It’s...complicated,” you began, struggling to find a way to simplify the messy details.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering to Natasha for a split second before returning to the kid. “It's just...we're not together anymore.”

“You know I am grown up now, right? You could've just told me that she cheated.” The kid blurted out without flinching.

The kid's abrupt words made you freeze for a moment, your eyes widening slightly in shock. Natasha's expression mirrored your own surprise, swallowing her shawarma slowly.

“Okay grown ass, she did cheat on me. You’re right.” You sighed in defeat, rolling your eyes on the kid who was looking at you the way your therapist did.

“Okay so how do you fee—”

“Oh no,” you cut her off, a hint of playful annoyance in your tone, “I’m not sitting through some free therapy session with you, kid.”

You observed the kid quietly, marveling at her mature demeanor. She had an old soul in a young body, possessing far more wisdom than most teens her age. It was as if her knowledge surpassed her years, an anomaly that left you both amazed and amused. Hell, she was more mature compared to grown ass adults.

The moment was interrupted by the shrill ringtone of Natasha’s phone. She sighed, her expression cooling as she glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” she apologized, before standing up and nodding at you and America.

As soon as Natasha was out of the restaurant, America sat and faced you.

“What’s her name?”

“Natasha—”

“I like her.”

“I like her for you.” The kid corrected.

Your mind flashed back to the time you had brought your ex to this very place, you chuckled at the memory, recalling the kid's bluntness that day.

“I remember bringing my ex here once,” you mused with a bitterness in your voice. “And, if I recall correctly, you didn't exactly hide your dislike for her.”

“Mhm.”

“You straight up told me you didn’t like my ex now you like her for me?” You pointed at Natasha at the window of the shop who was standing in front of the road, still on the call.

“Mhm.” The kid's head was held up high as she looked at you, a confident expression on her face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes slightly.

“What makes you feel like you can judge the people I date and decide whether you like them for me or not, huh?” You challenged playfully.

“I wasn't looking at them, Y/N. I was looking at your eyes.” She scrunched her nose before bringing you into a tight hug again. “And I need to go.”

Now, you were left alone, speechless by the kid’s words.

It was a simple statement coming from a literal teenager, but it caused a whirlwind of emotions inside you. You sat there alone, shawarma long forgotten as you tried to make sense of how her words made you feel.

“Hey, are you okay?” Natasha asked behind you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before responding. “Yeah, I'm alright,” you replied quietly.

“Where did the kid go?”

“She, uh, just left,” you mumbled, yes the kid just left but what she said never left your mind.

“I need to run to something right now.” She paused and offered, “Would you like me to walk you back to Stark’s place or maybe drive you back home?”

You shook your head, still lost in your thoughts. “No, it's alright,” you replied, your voice soft and distracted. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

You forced your eyes to remain averted from Natasha as the kid’s words continued to echo in your mind...

“I wasn't looking at them, Y/N. I was looking at your eyes.”

“I insist, plea—”

“It’s fine, go.” You firmly interrupted Natasha's insistence.

“No—”

“Natasha…” she tried to persist, but you cut her off again by calling her by her name.

“Can I at least call you a cab?”

“Please go.” You frustratingly said in finality.

Something in your tone made Natasha pause for a moment. You didn't sound angry, but there was a certain firmness to your words that reminded her of the first time you met her at SHIELD.

She didn’t want to see that authoritative, closed-off version of you again. She sensed the distance you were trying to keep, and it made her hesitate to press further.

“Okay…please take care. Thank you for tonight.” Without another word, she left.

Slowly, you attempted to catch a glimpse of the departing redhead but she was already gone. You gripped her leather jacket that was still clinging on your shoulders, the space where Natasha had just been sitting was now vacant, leaving you behind with her lingering presence and with the thoughts that was caused by the kid.

How do I look at her?

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part III (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part three is finally hereee! sorry it took so long i've been dealing with some shit and doing a lot of work as life's just gotten very busy but don't worry - nothing will be left undone and trust me when i say i already have the ending for this series planned out :)

im sorry to say guys but i will have to close my taglist as the size has began to affect my posts and tumblr keeps glitching out, sorry!

word count:2k

find parts one and two in my masterlist!

After the incident the previous day between Brandy and Arachne as well as the suggestions from Coriolanus taken on board, the mentors had been allowed one hour with their tributes to discuss tactics.

It was good yet bad all at once. You wanted to give Wovey advice, a fighting chance but yet you knew no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much help you gave her, she stood no chance compared to people like Reaper and even Lucy Gray.

She was small and innocent, young.

"In spite of yesterdays - tragic events, our president has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror, to which I and Doctor Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon - with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a specialised television presentation of each tribute to our audience to, well get to know them. You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin." Dean Casca Highbottom spoke into the echoey room, so large it was almost comical.

All of the tributes had been chained to the tables like animals and it made you sick to your stomach. You were aware they may harm you but at the same time such treatment would drive anyone to violence, it wasn't simply because they were District.

"Hi Y/N." Wovey smiled, so innocent. So naive.

"Wovey. I was thinking about how you might approach the games and I figured what might be best is to hide. You're small, an advantage that the other tributes don't have. I'm sure we can find some spaces this afternoon that might prove useful?" You suggested, not wishing to make this conversation more painful and personal than it had to be.

"Sure." She murmured, gaze positioned on the chains around her wrists.

"And if you wait until it's dark and everyone is sleeping you could go to the middle - collect whatever weapons they have left, just in case but otherwise I recommend waiting it out. If they can't find you they can't kill you." The sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth, you had never pictured yourself recommending a child to wait her death out in your life. The Capitol Academy was sold to you with visions of wealth and power, and now you has gone from student to mentor.

"I don't want to kill anyone." She frowned. She didn't even care that she could die, only fearing harming others. You felt your heart ache and yet, you could do nothing. No words would be good enough to reassure her, no actions would be able to save her. For once, you were useless.

"Wovey-" You began your sympathetic speech though Casca cut you off.

"Snow, Y/N. Let's go." He said as peacekeepers arrived to escort you to Doctor Gaul.

You rose without another word to Wovey, aware nothing you could say would be of any help at this time.

You knew it was about Coryo's proposal which you had not helped in and yet you weren't too upset about it. You didn't need the Plinth Prize nor did you need Doctor Gauls' approval and so you set out to let her know of your lack of involvement in this task.

"How is your tribute?" Coriolanus asked after minutes of silence.

"Her name is Wovey and she's fine. A little frightened but aren't we all?" You said, you were hesitant to tell him too much of Wovey's weaknesses and you didn't know why. This was Coriolanus. Your best friend of over ten years and your boyfriend of a few months and yet, you had a feeling whatever you said would be used against you.

"I suppose." He answered. You supposed his tone was meant to come off charmingly but all you felt was unease.

"This proposal. I haven't done it." You let him know, it was the least you could do before facing the psychopath known as Head Gamemaker.

"We have. I handed it in this morning." He answered with a hint of pride. Impressed with himself that he had taken initiative, helped you.

"I thought I made it clear the other day that I wanted no part in this plan to profit off of peoples lives, Coriolanus." You muttered, increasingly angry with his dedication to the Games and what they stood for.

"Well if you want to help Wovey, I suggest you don't tell Doctor Gaul that." He smiled, holding the door to her office open for you in a feign attempt at being a gentlemen.

As you walked into her office you couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was littered with mutants, clearly created to kill, all sat in glass jars on shelf upon shelf. Stacked all the way up to the ceiling.

"Mr Snow, Miss L/N. Come and see my new babies." Gaul said as she appeared at the back of the room. Where she had been hidden, you had no clue.

You did as she said, never one to disobey your superiors, climbing the snake tank alongside her.

"Is there a point to their colour?" You asked curiously. The snakes were surprisingly beautiful, chromatic as they shifted around on top of one another.

"There's a point to everything Miss L/N. Or to nothing at all, which brings me neatly to your proposal. Which one of you actually wrote it." She asked, as if to catch you out but you felt no remorse in admitting it wasn't you.

"Coriolanus, Doctor." You answer, sensing Coriolanus' hesitation in baiting you out.

"Well, how shocking. I expected more of a conflict." She replied, as though she were annoyed by your honesty as she reached into the snake tank, pulling Coriolanus' proposal out. "They're good your suggestions. I'm going to recommend my team implement as many as possible for tomorrow. Now run along you have an arena to promote, and Miss L/N I must say - I am most disappointed by your lack of involvement in these brilliant ideas."

"Well thank you, Doctor Gaul for your offer but, I thought Mr Snow had it safely under his control." You smiled politely before you both left to 'promote' but more so survey the new arena. "Wait." You said stopping Coriolanus before you got into the truck. "I don't know what has become of you Coriolanus Snow, but I want the little boy who fought to provide for his family while also caring for others back. You are turning into one of them, and I'm not going to be there to watch the world burn beneath your feet." You spat, leaving him to think as you sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

It seemed Coriolanus felt spiteful towards your words as he too ignored you up until this very moment as you walked into the arena.

You smiled reassuringly down at Wovey who looked just so scared. You were only three years older than her and yet you felt a motherly protection towards her, one you couldn't shake off.

Infront of you was Coryo and Lucy Gray. At first you pitied the girl, coming from twelve must be hard as they were food deprived and worked to the bone and yet now, as she stood holding your boyfriends hand in her beautiful rainbow dress, you loathed everything about her.

Your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could, your disgust clear to anyone looking but only one person was. Sejanus. He looked at you with pity and for once, you appreciated it. You decided he must know about you and Coriolanus and seeing as nobody else did they all whispered about him and Lucy Gray, how sweet they seemed.

You walked around alone before he appeared at your side.

"You deserve better, Y/N." Sejanus said, eyes never meeting your own as you continued to survey the arena, never even noticing his eyes stuck on his watch.

"Debatable." You chuckled, feeling a sense of self responsibility for getting with a man as dangerous as Coriolanus Snow in the first place.

"I wouldn't worry. If there's anything I've learnt about Coryo it's that he likes shiny things, new things - and she's definitely a spectacle." he chuckled to himself, it was safe to say Lucy Gray's ability to impress a crowd hadn't been missed by anyone.

"He'll grow tired eventually. I was his precious rose once." You sighed as the reality of the situation finally settled in.

You soaked in the silence for a few moments before you realised Sejanus' lack of response, turning in annoyance to see his eyes following the hand of his watch clock closely as he mouthed a countdown of the minutes.

"What are you-" You began.

"We've got to go." He said, grabbing your arm and beginning to walk towards the exit cautiously, not catching the attention of any guards.

"What do you mean? Sejanus?" You asked as he would not slow, not for anything. You looked around, seeing everyone else still stood stationary as they calmly conversed.

"Just follow me, Y/N." He said, still attempting to stay calm but you noticed his wide eyes.

You walked in silence, your heartbeat getting louder in your ear with each step until you hearing went completely silent, vision going black as both you and Sejanus were thrown to the floor in a cloud of smoke.

It took a few moments for you to be brought back to reality as you sat up, dazed hearing the yells of people around you. Once again before you could even figure out what was happening Sejanus' grabbed you, pulling you to your feet as you ran out of the door. 'Enjoy the show' now sounding muffled.

"What about Coryo?" You cried out in desperation, no matter what he put you through he was your first love and you had always pictured him to be your last.

"If we go back now, Y/N, we'll die." Sejanus replied as he continued dragging you until you reached the fresh air outside. Your charred lungs welcoming it.

As you looked back through the doorway you saw nothing, no one. Simply black smoke. You felt guilty and yet still - deep down - your heart yearned for the death of Lucy Gray.

It had been five hours now, sat around Coriolanus' bed alongside Sejanus and Tigris.

He hadn't so much as twitched and it had your heart racing with panic, if he died, you knew a part of you died with him.

Tigris comforted you as best she could in her own worry, noting how his chest continued to move up and down steadily and that the doctor only mentioned an injured arm, not that he was at risk of death.

The appearance of bright blue eyes caught everyone's attention as you rushed to be by his bed.

"Coryo." You said, a large smile on your face. You watched as his eyes flickered around in confusion, landing on you for a few moments. You don't know what you expected, a look of love? What you most definitely didn't expect was one of disgust.

"Lucy Gray, is she-" He stated, looking to Tigris for an answer.

"She's alive." Tigris responded through gritted teeth as she looked to you with sympathetic eyes. Her reply was lost to you as the ringing in your ears after the explosion returned. Your heart beating loud in your chest. You placed a hand over it, feeling it pound against your palm.

Your eyes glazed over as you walked away into a secluded corner, waving Sejanus off as he attempted to follow you.

It felt now more than ever so official, so real without a doubt. You had lost Coriolanus Snow. He no longer loved you, cared for you or even worried for you.

The cage that was his heart had opened wide, setting you free and instead capturing something new and desirable. A songbird.

TAGLIST: @savannahsteen, @shine101, @tfimherewhy, @iloveyou3000, @summerli-u, @coconut-dreamz, @serrendiipty, @zucchinimalfoy, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @-ice-heart, @aza-writes, @bellstwd, @kaitlyn2907, @wheepsworld, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @velvet-spider, @gloryekaterina, @prettyinsatiable, @bduchrnskei, @riddlerloveb0t, @girlalwaysathome, @thegoldenskies, @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @charmed-asylum, @suvgs, @podiumprincess, @annaelise, @mywitchycat, @italiekim, @darkestbeforethedawn16, @stelleduarte, @leafydinosaur, @witheringawayagain, @clementinechatsshit, @lokidala, @notyourwildestdream, @prettyppetty, @motley-baby, @taylvvrr, @autistic-deer, @gamorxa, @jakesguitarpick, @pepperonipastas, @sbrewer21, @emma-andrea1, @nekee-lilac02, @tabea3, @im-sidney, @rosarosse, @jenifer0305, @Idontwanttobeehere, @chiyopipi, @coisas-da-dani, @sunnydays-funnydays, @italiekim, @andrew-garfield-is-bae, @rororo06, @soulessjourney, @upwritingallnight, @kierramofficial, @cellui, @xav-ie, @Stwoosevens, @LightVo1d, @lilanna34, @pinki-minki, @annaelise, @alexameliamg, @gloryekaterina, @bia-wayne-west, @hinata7346, @yunloyal, @perks-of-being-jojo, @iheartfike, @lucygreene, @utopiakys, @ennycutie, @eggmia, @malayawr18, @chess1ca, @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf, @elynswan, @siriusly-rem,

@justacaliforniandreamer, @http-ilysm, @touyasside, @camilleverreault, @maraalo, @allcheesemelts, @-ice-heart, @sunghoonsbakery, @onlyangel-444, @geeknerdanseverythinginbetween, @Chmerkovskiy-chmerkovskiy, @tfimherewhy, @loxbbg, @th3-archer, @yazmunson, @buckysmainhxe, @puppyminnnie, @winkevm, @czarinera,

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge

The reader has a bit too much to drink and ends up making a deal she might regret...

Originally, it had started out as a good bit of fun. 

The boys had just returned from a mission, broken down and bone tired but glad it was over. It was one of the more rough ones, where they lost more friends than anyone would have liked, but a success was a success. 

To celebrate they went down to a nearby karaoke bar, and somehow they convinced you to come out with them, even though your specific skill set hadn’t been required on the mission. 

You turned them down multiple times, stating that it was your self care night (to which they responded that having fun is self care) but really, who were you to deny the four men anything?

Which is how you found yourself standing on a stage screaming the lyrics to “Sexy” from mean girls. 

Quite honestly, you were doing a pretty damn good job, which was evident by the encouraging screams of both military personnel and civilians alike. the entire bar seemed to thrum with life as you sung and dance, and the task force just watched in awe. 

maybe you had had a bit too much to drink. 

Finally, after the song was over (and after a standing ovation) you stumbled back to the corner booth, laughing at the boy’s bewildered expressions. 

“What, never heard me sing?” You asked, sliding into the booth with only a smidge less grace than you usually possessed. 

“Well lass, i wasn’t under the impression you could sing,” Johnny fired back, smiling wildly. “was fuckin amazin’ kid!”

You smiled at him and ducked your head in a mock bow. “I took theaters in high school, it’s nothing special.” 

All four heads snapped to you so quickly one of them had to have gotten whiplash. 

“You. Took theater?” Price said, fixing you with a disbelieved look. 

“Yes, captain. Yes i did.” You lean back in the booth, just now noticing that Ghost has draped his arm over your seat. 

“Now this is gotta see,” Gaz said, laughing to himself. 

“Oh- good luck finding anything. I got rid of all those photos years ago.” They all look at each other, before turning back to you. 

“Is that a challenge?” You hear Ghost’s deep voice rumble, dangerously close to your ear. 

“Yes…” you squeak out, not dairing to move away from him. “Actually, let’s make it just that. Whoever can find more than 10 photos of me before my junior year of high school wins.” 

They all look at each other again, before Johnny speaks up. “Why tha’ year?” 

You just shrug. “Changed schools then, looked like a completely different person.” 

They all nod. “What do we get if we win?” Gaz questioned. 

You took a moment to think it over, pretending to tap on your chin and everything. “I’ll do whatever you want for a day.”

Maybe you did have too much to drink. 

Their eyes practically bug out of their heads, even Ghost looks shocked at the prize. 

“Whatever… we want?” He questions, his eyes still wide. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“Mhm,” You say, nodding. “As long as it’s not a mission day or something, I have to do whatever you tell me to do for twenty-four hours. Kind of like an ‘I cant say no’ day.”

They all not hurriedly, quickly agreeing to the plan. 

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal!” You smile, downing the lasts of your drink. 

(may be a series i have a few ideas for this)

My Masterlist

[glassrowboat]

Red Ribbon. Chiori.

Summary: A not so peaceful morning with your girlfriend. Well, not when you're up to mischief anyway.

Word count: 900+

Authors note: The start of a small series I'm going to write of the seven colors of the rainbow in ribbons with some of our genshin faves! Also, a slight spoiler for Chiori's kit.

The small shop was always such a cozy place to huddle up in, the one specific chair that had been covered in loose scraps of cut out fabric currently occupied with your figure as you fiddle with a spool of something or another. Pretty red ribbon right under your fingers as Chiori slowly walks around the pinup body adorned with a dress.

The click of those overly complicated heels filled the room as you watched Chiori circle around the mannequin in the center of the room, its fabric body adorned in layers of cloth. Another commision she was working on no doubt as she snipped a loose thread. Precise as possible, that is until she tries to toss it over at you.

The string falling on the ground between you two. Apparently it was your fault you had become her designated place to pile scraps after you took the chair she would usually use for such a task. Red ribbon being wrapped around your finger and undone again and again mindlessly as you watched her.

“Now where did I put that?” Talking to herself again, a habit she would never openly admit to, Chiori pat down the apron she had on that held her tools. “(Y/n) have you seen-”

“This?” Holding up the spool of ribbon you had been playing with a smile easily crossed your features, even as her eyes narrowed. “No, I haven't.”

“Then you have no issue giving it to me.” Walking over to you Chiori tried to snatch the item in your hand, her sleeves rustling from the action as they flowed behind her. You never got how those kimono sleeves didn't get in her way all the time but she always pulled it off somehow. Good for her.

That however wasn't enough of a reason to give in as you climbed up further on the chair, feet pushing against the cushion as you stood up from your curled up position, knees no longer pushed up against your chest as you held her prize high in the air.

Hopefully she doesn't deem this offense enough of one to use her visions abilities. Stupid teleportation abilities.

“If I recall correctly, taking possession of another's items could be considered a crime. Would you truly really want me to take you to court over this, (Y/n)?” A flick of her dress, those same sleeves billowing in the wind as she crossed her arms. Oh she was so cute when she tried to look mad.

Deciding to play along you held the ribbon up higher, making sure it was above even your head. “Well, when I go down to the Fortress of Meropide should I come back with a fit rate of the Guards uniforms?”

Wait, is she actually considering it? Head tilting, pretty brown hair shifting over her shoulder as Chiori stood in silence before softly shaking the thought off. “Just give me the ribbon back.”

Huh, this must be for a commission if she's being such a little stickler. Not that that would lessen your need for a bit of mischief. As they say, breaks are healthy. “How about a deal?”

“A deal for my own possessions?”

What's a synonym for stickler again? Hypercritic, perfectionist, nitpicker.

“Don't make it sound like that.” Even if it is true. “Come on pretty, a kiss is all I want and then I'll give it back. Please?”

A small sigh could be heard as she glanced back between her prize and you. Red ribbon tickling at your wrist as the spool unwound from your earlier actions. A standoff is currently happening in Fontaine's very own Chioriya Boutique. At least there's no guns involved, just a miffed geo vision haver and her lover.

“You make such a big deal over a kiss?” She asked, brows furrowing as she looked up at you. “Next time just ask instead of acting like this.”

But where's the fun in that?

“Well?”

Leaning down just enough so she could get on the tip of her toes, or more like those heels, you pucker your lips to try and coax her into giving what you wanted.

Oh that heavy sigh. Yet there her pretty face was coming in closer. The details of Chiori's eyeshadow clear to you, the pretty light tint of powder as her eyelashes fluttered closed. “Fine.” And with that she kissed you.

The rich, heavy taste of coffee from Cafe Letece you had gotten for her earlier filling your senses. She had always been so insistent the run there was better than opening some random can she had imported over from Inazuma despite the fact she went through all the effort to have Kirara deliver it in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact she was so selective when she wanted the taste of home.

Well, the taste of your home was her as Chiori slowly pulled away. Her soft lips abandoning yours as the spool was snatched from her hand, robbed right under your fingers as the cardboard that it was wrapped around was replaced for air. Not even the sticker smacked on top labeling the thing for sale you had been picking at earlier was clinging onto your skin.

How rude.

“Beautiful,” you cried out as you hopped off the arm chair, stumbling over the floor as you landed, trying to chase after her in the small shop. “Wait, wait! Come back I want another!”

“Then it seems you'll have to find more ribbon to bargain with.”

Ignoring you Chiori went back to the pin up mannequin in the center of the room, holding up a strip of the ribbon to the sleeves of the dress as she pinned it in place with small metal needles.

Well…that's your girl alright.

“Love you, my pretty.”

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |II| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 5.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. heavy scarring and wounding. minor character death. allusions to suicide, depression and trauma. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot's sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 2: Asphodel "Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you have a chance to show it." - Elizabeth Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean 

Despite gaining the privilege of an open cage and access to the rest of the ship, you decided against this freedom… and in a way, that was all the freedom you could ask for, wasn’t it? To choose where to go or where to stay. The restrictions were only so far as anyone else on this ship. The uncharted waters kept you all at the bay of the plank. 

But perhaps there was a part of you was scared to go beyond what had now become your own piece of the ship, a safety blanket among the ravenous snake pit. It was not even a question. You could just tell by how you closed your cell door at the sound of footsteps approaching down the ladder towards you. These men were wild and unpredictable. You could never expect what they would do once with you. The distance was the only option. 

Perhaps not so free as the rest, after all. 

Yet. 

Because you would fight it. All of them. Make your presence known and show everyone you were not like any other they had snagged off a ship. You assumed there had been more, after all. More prisoners, more girls to take advantage of. The shackles hanging down from the wall in your cell, stained red with rust and blood, were proof enough of what once occurred below deck. 

Despite being the safest place you could be in, it still was a nightmare on Earth to spend your days there, among the crates and chests filled with stolen treasures, supplies, and whatever else was deemed worth the same amount of treatment as you. Everything had been stacked mindlessly, dropped at the earliest convenience, and items only moved to make a short path to your holding cell. The disorganisation and thoughtlessness around you had been a bittersweet nuisance. You could not stand it, but at the same time, it was nice to have something so trivial on your mind as the lacklustre distribution of goods around the ship. 

Clearly, no one cared about what was going on. No one spent enough time there to notice anything, besides you, of course. The only times someone climbed those steps were to bring you your meals or to bring more storage in. So what harm would it do to you put some order to it? 

It wasn’t much, but you had created a way to pass the long hours aboard. And it was pleasant, though exhausting. With the food you were given, your energy was not what it once used to be, and the first thing to go when not feeding the body properly is the muscle. Moving the larger items took a while, but you saw a positive outcome. By taking everything slowly, you had no fear of completing your task soon. It was a never-ending activity. Tiring but something for you to do, and most importantly, keep your mind too occupied with the straining work ahead rather than the larger picture of your current circumstances. 

A part of it was also an attempt at claiming your territory. Lifting large boxes was doing the trick when it came to letting out your anger and frustrations, too, a way to channel everything into the peculiar renovation. A point to focus on something physical, something you could control, instead of your emotions and everything going on around you. 

A few days since you began doing so, things started making sense. But, most importantly, no one who ever came down there seemed to notice or care what you were doing. Besides the food they had to feed you to keep you alive, there was little interest they seemed to have for your existence.

You found many other objects that they must have considered rubbish, but you could use them just fine. Like the old sails, or what you assumed were scraps of an old torn sail, folded up in a corner. It was such a large piece of material that you tied it up to the corners of your barred walls, creating a curtain that gave you some privacy. Most of the chests around you were locked, giant padlocks handing down from the cover, the keys most likely at the bottomless pit of the ocean along to their original owners. But some were shut, and of course, you poked a peak inside with interest. 

Some were empty, and some had scrolls of paper, which you took up as light reading for early mornings when the sun hit through the windows just right, giving you a bright light source. There were captain logs and maritime routes; letters never sent, and maps never finished. 

One caught your attention, and you read the most on those drabby mornings when nothing else could make you feel alive. This one particular letter, which you could only assume was intended for a young woman from her lover, kept your heart beating and your hopes of escaping this ship alive. At least the parts of it that you had managed to find, for the parchment was ripped to pieces, the last chunk still missing among the piles of items you were roaming through. 

By now, you had read it so many times you didn’t even need the paper to recite it. 

My dearest,  The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore. I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips. Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but it will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you… 

There certainly was something about the love you felt seeping through each word you read and reread. It almost put you down into this state of calmness as it looped in your mind in the evening, letting you fall asleep. 

It was another evening like all the others before it. Your dinner had been served in silence. If you had not known better, you would have assumed all men had taken an oath of silence, never to speak again, but it was evident the quiet was only limited to you. As you felt the slumber climb over you, the deck was alive and well. 

The contrast between living aboard the Hellfire at night and day could not be more than that. While the sun was up, the boots fell heavy above your head, fatigue coming over them as the work had to be done. The crew did what they could to keep the boat afloat and sailing on. As much as the deep waters could be a calming sight to some, it was absurd that there could be nothing around you but water for days. Undoubtedly, the ship must reach a harbour quickly; provisions could only be stored in the salt barrels for so long. The last time the boat reached shore must have been days before your cage door had opened. Then again, you knew what going ashore meant for the people like the Hellfire crew… and did not wish the aftermath upon your worst enemies. 

There would be fire, which you knew they adored. It came alive in spirit and light when the night sky appeared. When the work was done, and the sails smoothly let themselves be guided by the wind, you could always hear them walking above your cage, taunting their freedom with songs and tales. The ship was like a masquerade when the moon lit everything in her silver glow. It would have to be, or else the weariness and longing for land would take over. 

The songs were nothing special, typical shanties and hymns allured by a drunken chorus, singing the ballads of adventure and treasures, beautifully sombre. Yet, these moments made you believe that some humanity was left in them. Some kindness and compassion, too. A part that they would never dare show when the sun came up. 

It was as if the men aboard were two different people in one, where one side came out during the night and the other during the day. And you seemed to much prefer the nighttime sort. As, during the sun hours, the candles and lanterns went out, and with it, their souls were all back to their usual dirty selves. Their dark spirits would take over once more.

Either way, the nights were extended, as no sleep came to anyone. Not with the singing being so loud that it drilled into your ears. For them, slumber would come later and disappear quickly too, but no one seemed to mind. 

You had no way of telling the time on board, the only possible tell sign would be the sun's position, but even that was never exactly as you had barely any idea where in the world you were. All you could make out was that the crew made way for their hammocks in the small hours of the morning when the sun teased its appearance at the horizon, its glow awakening everything else but the drunken sailors that held you captive. 

The ship was asleep. The only sounds you could make were the waves smashing into the vessel and the gulls screeching in the distance. It was an opportunity. You could roam the deck unbothered. 

With a deep but shaky breath, you inhaled the salty sea air as you climbed the ladder, hands paling at your knuckles from your grip on it. The trapdoor opened with a creak, and you froze in your movements, waiting for the sound to have woken up everybody… but the silence resumed. You let out another deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal the sky, millions of stars looking down at you, but already fading as the sun appeared slowly. The dewy morning hours were dark but brighter than anything you had been surrounded with since your capture.

It had been getting colder by the day, and you already knew that by sitting in your cell. Soon enough, more than your dress would be needed for the climate you were entering. Shivers swarmed your arms at the wind blowing by. Your steps remained small and apprehensive as you needed help figuring out where to go. You had the entire ship deck to yourself for a short time. There was so much to explore above ground, but your legs automatically steered you towards the barriers of the ship.

You walked over to the ship's edge, letting your nails dig into the wood and your frustrations on the trim piece. Stand there, look at the horizon, and watch the sun slowly rise from under the water. The first sunrise you witnessed in weeks— at least not from the small window that peaked right over your head in your cell– had been a euphoric experience. Everything felt brand new. As your last attempts at peeking at the waves had resulted in painful flashbacks of your previous minutes aboard the Red Tail, now, you focused on the calm ripples of the water. No longer was the only thing you saw in the blue the blood of your long-lost friends. You saw their resting place. In the early morning, golden sun rays peeked out from the horizon, illuminating the drab grey of the waters like a liquid treasure hiding beneath the surface. You saw the waves moving along the ship sheepishly, back and forth. Calmly, sleepy, drifting away into the distance with each push of the boat and wind. It was slowly waking up, the sea, the earth. 

What would it dream of, you pondered. It must be lovely to be so at peace. 

If you closed your eyes and let the fresh golden light wash over you for long enough, you could fool yourself into oblivion. That you were somewhere else. A happy place.

It was so peaceful and quiet that the smallest of disturbances broke you out of your happy thoughts. You felt the presence from across the ship, his eyes on you, disintegrating your moment of bliss. But, of course, it could have been anyone, and you expected it to be one of the crewmates, one of the men with poor luck who had to start their work shift with the sun. 

Never, in a million years, did you imagine turning around and meeting with a pair of golden hazel eyes. Captain Munson was leaning against one of the masts, leg prodded against the wooden pole. He chuckled at the sight of your face, evidently struck with panic. How had he even reached the centre of the deck so quietly? Because… he could not have been standing there, or anywhere, all this time?

In one hand, he held an apple, and in the other, a small knife. He pressed the blade against the fruit’s skin and his thumb over it, cutting a small piece off. Then, still with the knife under it, he brought the apple slice to his lips. Never did his eyes leave yours as he ate. You felt unnerved with each move he made. You felt the need to look away, but for some reason, you simply couldn’t. It was like he was capturing you in a trance. So instead, you let your nails dig into the ship’s rail even more.

‘Do not let me disturb you, my darling,’ he eventually said and bode you farewell with a slight bow before parting ways. You were left stunned. Not sure what to say or do, you just turned back to look at the sea. It had no effect and felt like a sore loser's words, but you mumbled “Not your darling” under your breath. 

Had that been all? It was all extremely disorienting. Because, of course, he had meant to disturb you. He did so to your very core. That cold-eyed gaze opposed the actual warmth of his honey irises. It froze your blood. It spoiled everything about your morning. 

And as quickly he had appeared behind you, so quick the captain was to disappear out of your view again.  You looked around yourself for good measure, extending your neck to locker over the larger barrels standing in the corners of the deck, but he had genuinely evaporated into the early day’s mist. A phantom of the sea.

But just because he was gone didn’t mean his presence was. You still felt his eyes on you, lurking from hidden darkness. Perhaps the darkness was in your own head, inner thoughts poisoning your sanity, but the feeling remained nonetheless. 

Suddenly, the calm sea was anything but. Instead, the light sky seemed dull and grey, the waves bouncing off the ship aggressive. There was nothing peaceful about it left behind. There was nothing left for you there. But you remained steady in your place on the boat, looking out ahead at the horizon until the sun rising began to burn your eyes with its bright presence, and the wind blew harder. Only then did you decide, on your own devices, to head back down into the warmer discomfort of your enclosure. 

You lay on the ground and threw that thin fleece over yourself, hoping to fall asleep and thus pass on the rest of the day. But, if Lady Luck was on your side, it would be one of the silent dreams that asked nothing of you but your mind, leaving it as it was. In fact, letting you rest from the horrors that were your life.

And so, the sleep came, but quiet it was not.

Flashes of the Red Tail. Flames, explosions, blood, it was all around you. Men dying over and over again. You tried to scream out, reach for them, and help them, but it was as if your body was stuck in the mud, unable to move. So you just had to stand there, helplessly, as you watched everyone around you die.

The pool of blood expanded over the sinking ship. The sky turned dark, almost black. You looked up to see the sun–that same sun that kissed you welcome mere minutes ago at the horizon– melting, enveloping everything in darkness. Once you looked back down, another urge to scream came over you. 

A figure was standing not far from you, perhaps a few feet away. Covered in the blood that the ship was drowning in, from head to toe, he was basically dripping in it. 

He smiled at you, a canine-baring grin. Then, slowly but steadily, he neared you. 

“Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun, princess, aren’t we?’

You awoke with a pitched scream. 

Breathing heavily, just trying to get your heart back on a steady rhythm, the clanking of swords echoing in your head was doing everything against it. Just like that day on the Red Tail. Just like in your dream. You could still hear it, and it felt so real. Each loud hit of metal against metal made you wince. Cannons would follow soon. Then the blood… 

But only the swords remained. It kept going and going. Then there were the footsteps. Heavy above you, making the whole ceiling shake. It felt like a stampede, in all honesty. And there was shouting. Boisterous clammer. Followed by crowded cheers and some clinking… that you could not immediately make out what it was supposed to be. 

One thing you knew for sure, however. Whatever was happening above you, it could not mean anything good. It simply reminded you too much of that other day. That first day… or was it your last?

There was a fight ongoing on the deck. The question was, what kind? Were you being attacked? Would another group of men come down the ladder steps and haul you onto another ship? Will they cheer over Munson’s death as these men cheered over Carver’s? Would this circle of hell ever end? 

No, it couldn’t be that. The cheering was too joyful and—was that laughter you could hear? Yes. Loud and boisterous. Right above your head. In a chorus. Your mind went to the evenings you had endured sleeplessly as the men jested until the sun rose, but when you looked out the window, you still saw the bright blue sky. So what was going on? 

Against your better judgement, you took a risk, all in the thought of showing initiative and how powerful you would look walking out of the trapdoor onto the full deck. You just told yourself that enthusiastic cheering was a sign of no evil. It indicated that it was no malicious attack of another ship, that whatever you would encounter, there would be nothing to be afraid of. With that confidence, you climbed up there, pushed the trapdoor up and– 

A blade wobbled back and forth as it deeply penetrated the deck's surface, inches away from your face. You held onto the edge of the floorboards, trying not to fall back down, as the scream that erupted from your lungs halted everything around you. Everybody in reach hooked his gaze on you if they weren’t fast enough to run up to the hole you were attempting to crawl out of. No one helped, of course. They just stared. Dozens of pairs of blank and cold eyes blinked arhythmically as the bodies they belonged to stood frozen in a circle, unsure of what to do next. The blade stuck in the wood still shifted in its new makeshift holster. 

Then, much like on your very first day aboard, the circle opened up to reveal the captain. He stood several feet away, and you caught him blinking slowly before approaching you. Had he been hesitant to approach? Was he, though you doubted, startled to see you?

But whatever emotion it had been to cause his hesitance, it was gone as he spoke:

‘Just in time, darling!’ The silence was broken, and so was the tension your appearance had created.

He had an almost identical sword in his hand. Behind him stood one of his crew mates, face paling despite the grimace he was trying to pull off among his peers. He must have been who the captain dramatically disarmed, ending with that sword landing and nearly cutting your nose off. Was anyone feeling guilty for putting that fear upon you? 

Highly unlikely.

The captain neared your trapdoor, leaning down on one knee and reaching his hand out to you, an attempt at some fair treatment toward; helping you get up onto the deck gracefully—you boldly refused. The idea of touching him… images your mind had conjured up in the night still pestered you and flashed past your eyes at the sight of his hand so near you. You looked away as your feet touched the deck for the second time that day. You hated the sight of him any given day, but this particular afternoon, it was even more of an unbearable sight.

The captain had abandoned his hat, opting to tie his hair with a red ribbon into a ponytail, failing to do so properly as strands were already escaping at the frame of his face. His long black coat and shirt also had been abandoned. It was a hot day, and with the training, he was most likely performing, the sweat on his chest was already forming, despite the cool breeze standing a strong fight with the sails. 

A ghastly sight, truly, the sweat that slicked over the countless prints of black ink on his arms, chest and ribs. The ink barely covered the various scars in the same placements. Some were small, like the nicks of a blade. The new bright red cut across his clavicle would surely join that collage. Others were unmistakably older but must have once been deep flesh wounds, possible gunshots, bites, or the results of things you most likely would not even be able to fathom. It looked like a visual of a life of torture.

You blinked, letting his previous words settle in your mind. ‘In time for what?’ You looked around. All eyes remained on you since you had made your presence known, something you had fallen out of habit with. You were not used to getting so much attention anymore.

‘Training, of course.’ Munson easily pulled the blade out of the ship planks, handing it to you. ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight?’

‘No.’ It was unladylike to swordfight, scuffle, argue, or do anything you did at the time of your capture. The heft felt awkward in your grip, clearly too big for your hand, but the entire piece felt off-balance. It must have been a homemade contraption of one of the Hellfire crew. Possibly molten out of the treasures residing downstairs with you. You adjusted your grip on the sword, but nothing felt right.

Nothing you did slipped past the Captain, whose eyes were on you and his crew. He pursed out his bottom lip in a mocking pout. 

‘A true pity.’ He swung his blade back and forth. Each swoosh in the air made you flinch. ‘maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have ended up here with us.’ The chuckle started deep within him but evolved into a guttural laugh from the whole crew. The sound boiled your blood in anger as well as embarrassment. You wanted to attack their captain immediately but knew it wouldn’t end well. He looked you up and down with his casual smirk, and you made it a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. No longer could he think he could just do whatever he pleased with you. ‘But there is always time to learn, I believe.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ you simply stated, looking down at the longsword clutched in your hand. 

‘C’mon, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘it’s no fighting. it’s just a bit of fun.’ 

‘I see no fun in useless acts of violence.’ Did any of your words sound profound? Confident? You were ready to hear another wave of laughter, but it did not come. The only response was a smirk of the captain, but not one you had seen before.

It wavered. 

‘Don’t be like that, my darling.’ He recovered with his mockery, but you were no longer having any of it. With large strides, you closed the gap between you two across the deck. The men around you were split in moving back or getting ready to seize you if the situation required interference. The captain was among the former group. His stance shifted backwards as you met him, your chest nearly hitting his. 

Your grip tightened on the sword, and he must have noticed it by how his eyes shifted down to your arm and back to your face. 

A million different things ran through your mind; there were endless possibilities for relieving your anger at the man standing before you, all being the catalyst of events that you did not dare start. What were you to do? 

Your nails dug into your hand as your fingers wrung the halt of the sword. With this object alone, you could do a hundred different things, most of which would result in only a worse situation for yourself. 

You struck the blade down with as much power as you could muster. Like it had hit the planks in front of your face moments before, it now missed the captain’s feet by mere inches. He looked down, never moving anything but his eyes, and then looked directly at you again. His features were blank of expression; no fear or anger, but no amusement either. 

‘Call me any of that again, and next time it won’t be the deck that gets it.’ You had dared to move closer, letting your faces nearly touch. That smell of cinnamon and rum greeted you again. A few seconds passed as you stood there, eyes piercing through one another. Your blood boiling, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths.

He did not respond.

Or at least not until you had turned to walk away. 

‘I would love to see you try. It sure is easy making empty threats, prin–’ but he never got to finish his mockery. Perhaps because it was even easier to sound confident behind one’s opponent’s back, not looking them in the eye, that angered you. The fact that the man who threw you in a cage was, in reality, nothing but a coward. At that moment, all regard for your safety escaped you as you turned back on your heel and lunged your fist towards his face. 

It must have hurt you more than him, but the pink mark across his cheek was established. You did not bother to await his reaction once more and walked away for good– as far as the circumstances allowed you, which was not far. The ship was only so big, and the circle of men had moved onto the trapdoor, locking you in the fresh afternoon air. 

They were ready to retaliate for your aggression towards their captain, but his words boomed across all ears. ‘Stand back! I said stand back,’ he repeated when some still tried to reach for you. You passed the crew and made for the spot you had become familiar with over the morning. Trying to ignore everything behind you, you again reached the ship’s edge. Their voices lingered over everything, impossible to block out, but you let yourself focus on the ripples in the water as your anger subsided. 

Not long now. You had already been so close to home when they took you, and it's been days. Surely, soon they would reach the shore of your home and give you back to your family. That idea somehow managed to overcome everything that was actually happening around you. 

Though you had slept through most of it, it had been a long day, and signs of it were showing in the sky. Now turning a soft pink and orange as the sun began to set once more, the night was coming. With it, the stars. Would you stay outside long enough to look at them? It had been a sight you had missed properly gazing at the millions of twinkling lives above you, the constellations and the stories they told. 

It would all depend on the men that had now resumed their sword-fighting practice. 

The casualness of it all was actually rather comforting, as it, for once, did not bring back memories of the unfortunate ship you had bid farewell to but rather the surroundings of your father’s estate. There, men like Admiral Carver were standing guard or practising, but also young boys and girls who ran away from their mothers, pretending to be on great little adventures with large twigs for weapons. For a moment, you could swear you could smell the fresh flowers that bloomed outside your bedroom window, or the spices haggled for at the market in the harbour. There were cats meowing and dogs barking. To think that once you had grown tired of it all, yearned for something new in life, but now could not imagine anything greater than a return home…

Who knew how long you had stood there staring at the darkening horizon. Your thoughts must have sent you off into the distance from the ship, as you had not realised anything happening around you. The sea was quickly becoming a comfort. When looking out at it, you did not have to face the cruel reality of the Hellfire and the people upon it. The waters seemed so inviting and freeing that you couldn’t help but think if maybe walking the plank wasn’t always a punishment… 

You had not even noticed the smile creeping up at the corners of your lips, but it never came to fruition as you were broken out of the spell. 

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ the deep voice startled you, but you did not show it. In your short time aboard, and now being in actual contact with these scoundrels, there was one thing you had learned: To show fear to people like Munson, like the men on this ship, was possibly the stupidest thing a person like you could do. Letting fear control you would let them control you, playing right into their hand. Instead, display confidence and strength, which gets under their skin. 

You glanced over as much as you could without physically turning in his direction. His long dark hair messily flowed with the wind now that he had released it from the ribbon. He was looking directly at you, making you grow hot with anger. Then, subtly rolling your eyes, you looked away again, back to the waters. That, however, did not stop the Captain from speaking again.

‘A view like this makes you think of how big the world is. How small you are.’ He held his dagger again in his left hand, twirling it mindlessly between his fingers. He was standing so close that your arms were brushing against one another. His gold and silver chains jingled at the slightest of movements. You tried to focus on that instead of his words. A task that turned out to be much more challenging than you had thought, as the Captain did not enjoy your rejection. 

‘A bit of advice, princess,’ he leaned closer to you, his breath mixing with the wind. His nicknames for you would just have to lose their meaning in your head, as clearly, they were not going anywhere. ‘The silent treatment is not doing you any favours. On the contrary, my men like their girls quiet.’

‘Spare me, please,’ you hissed. 

‘Believe me,’ he responded as if he could read your mind, ‘finding yourself on our ship has spared you enough,’ he let his head hang lightly askew, looking up at you with his large eyes, bemused– you could tell you had lost his one-sided game by speaking up. Then you might as well keep going.

‘Is that a threat?’ Just a reminder that even when you were not locked in a cage, you were not truly free or safe. Their danger constantly loomed over you. 

���Far from it, darling. I simply hope you know that there are much worse things out there,’ he leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as his hand reached out to the waters at your side to point at the waves with his blade. ‘You probably can’t even think up the horrors that live out in the wilderness of the oceans.’ What could he possibly know about your imagination? If only he knew that, at this specific moment, you were considering five different ways to gauge his honey eyes. 

You turned to him directly now. His stare at you was cold and focused. The mark you had left on his cheek was now also unavoidable. It called to you and anyone who looked at him like a beacon of a lighthouse. That smile of yours from seconds before threatened to come out again, but you held it in. However unbothered he might have sounded at the strike, you did not believe that could have been it. There must have been a reason for his current approach. What you had done in front of his entire crew was unacceptable and certainly not inconsequential–you could not imagine that he had not set a punishment ready for you. And whatever it would be, you doubted it would be subtle or free of pain. Yet, you reminded yourself of the freshly taught lesson. Keep your head up. Don’t show your fear. 

Not breaking eye contact, you decided to simply ask. 

‘What is it that you want from me?’ 

And the Captain did not waste a second in his response.

‘See me in my quarters, darling.’ 

-Chapter 3-

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging.

I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the taglist. right here.

taglist:

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @luna-munson83 @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @jaemunson70 @reading–mermaid

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries @m4riesworld @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixontardis @nataliastranqe

[sitepathos]

141 w/ Armored Titan Male Reader

A/N: ok, I know I said I was working on a CoD/Star Wars series, but I kinda forgot about the draft I barely worked on after a while and now I’ve been on a AoT kick lately, so hope this is an acceptable substitute. For a little world building, you were created in a lab with Titan abilities and the lab was raided, Laswell learned about you and had you spirited away to the 141. Both to help them on their missions and to ensure you don’t end up being used as a weapon by certain generals in the States.

Price

When Laswell told him she was sending him a young man with the ability to turn into a giant, he was worried that she’d finally gone off the deep end and was actually planing on staging a kidnapping so she’d take some time off.

Then when he finally met you and saw you turn into the Armored Titan, he was blown away by the sight of 15m giant with more armor than a tank appearing out of thin air.

He didn’t know what to make of you, a young man barely old enough to serve in the military that’d spent his entire life cooped up in a lab and being prepared as a weapon of war, but Laswell said she’d owe him big time for this and she always makes good on her promises.

Plus, when he saw your record, he couldn’t help but take you in. He has a thing for strays and is bad for collecting them for his prized task force.

When you completed your first mission, he knew you were staying with 141 and he’s fight tooth and nail to keep you. Seeing you smash through enemy defenses like they were nothing and crushing enemy troops like they’re bugs is a sight he’d never forget.

Gaz

When Price told them they would have a giant on their team, he thought his captain meant König would be a permanent member on 141. Then you were shown to them, easily the shortest person in the room.

When you demonstrated your ability on the training grounds by turning into the Armored Titan before all of them, he was speechless. One moment, you’re some scrawny looking kid and the next, you’re a bulky beast that towers over them.

He was interested in knowing how you came to be and asked Price, who handle his your file. When he learned that you were nothing but a lab rat for all of your life and now had nowhere to go, he reached out, offering you someone to talk to and showing you how to live outside of a cold, dark lab.

Obviously you were confined to the base at night for safety reasons, but as long as you had an escort, you were allowed to leave during the day. During that time, he would show you around London, pointing out important landmarks and tourist attractions.

He’ll always treasure the first mission you went on with them, charging through the enemy base and shrugging off small arms and explosives like they were mosquito bites. That was probably the first mission where all the enemies were killed and no one on 141 fired a shot.

Ghost

Oh boy, when you first met him, he scared you more than the scientists and their endless poking and prodding.

And this man already has MAJOR trust problems. The moment he realized that you could turn into the Big Unfriendly Giant due to a paper cut, he was demanding Price end you back to the States.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with you. You get anywhere near him and his gaze scorched you more than exposed Titan flesh.

Then, your first mission happened. After they collected the info they were after, a few hostiles realized you were a distraction and turned their rocket launchers on their position, but before impact, you shielded them with your hand, absorbing the blast and crushing the shooters like they were bugs.

After that, he decided you were owed a little trust. After all, you are a part of 141. (Also, watching you break through an enemy compound was like fucking beautiful.)

Soap

You ever see a child on Christmas morning? That’s exactly how this hardened soldier looked like.

As a demolitions expert, he’s obsessed with being able to deal the most damage to an enemy, leaving them with absolutely nothing worth salvaging. And here you come, being able to do that like it’s nothing!

Of course he’s a little wary of you, but he prides himself on being a good judge of character and seeing you as some poor kid whose whole existence revolved around being the ultimate weapon, he welcomes you with open arms and convinces his team to give you a chance.

No matter the mission, he’ll ALWAYS demand to be on your shoulder as you charge through an enemy base, pancaking hostiles and their equipment like they were bugs. Mostly because he loves watching you deal the kind of destruction he can only dream of, but also because he loves getting to ride on a giant.

Seriously, even on base, he’ll BEG you to give him a ride.

While Gaz shows you all of London’s tourist hot spots, he’ll show you to all his favorite pubs, determined that he’ll be the one to share your first drink with. He’s also determined to bring you to Scotland, insisting “it’s better than those Brits’ city.”

@darkangel4121

[la-imp]

AVATAR RECOM HEADCANONS - INTRO

Recoms!Deja Blu Unit - Science"Puke"! Reader

This is my first headcanon series and I am incredibly nervous because there are so many good ones out there already. I have read quite a few amazing headcanon series by various blogs who practically carry the whole Avatar Fanfic scene, which I am really grateful for! I know these sorts of scenarios have been done a lot by now, but I wanted to get one out and put my own spin on it. I hope to write more and update this series as well as take in requests, one-shots, etc, expanding on the characters as much as I can. I hope you enjoy! Avatar has consumed my life, lol...

Disclaimer: I do not own AVATAR, nor do I own its creative properties and original characters. I do, however, own the 'reader' character as well as other created figures that do not appear in the Avatar films, video games, or comic books. Characters involved: Miles Quaritch, Lyle Wainfleet, Alexander Ja, Mansk, Zdindarsk aka Z-Dog, Zhang, Lopez, Fike, Warren, Walker, Prager, Brown - mentions of Jake Sully

Plot Summary: The story takes place during the events of TWOW, right before the great reef battle. I won't spoil any crucial plot details (for those who haven't watched the movie yet), so I'll end it there. The reader is a militant medic with a biochemistry background, now assigned special care to ensure Project Phoenix's success. As their body chemistry is quite different and unique from that of humans, they require some help getting used to their new vessel. This is where you come in... and boy... you were not prepared for this. A bunch of Na'vi Human hybrids at the peak of their prime, fuelled by hormonal rage, primal instincts, and a knack for vengeance, they sure as hell turned your daily life topsy turvy. To them, you were nothing more than another science puke here to bore them out of their minds,  even though you had some military training as well. It is up to you to show them otherwise. To earn a place in their ranks.

Will (y/n) be able to handle this task or eventually fold like the others?

Warning(s): Cursing - Mild bullying - Negging - Foul language - Playful flirting

Content: SFW (Minors DNI) The reader is human and female. I plan to write specific headcanons for each individual character, but this was just a very long and detailed starter in order to get the ball rolling. Also this is not proof-read, so take this with a grain of salt. Happy reading! (also English is not my first language, so please bear with me) ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hailing from a gentle background of academics and artists, you've decided to take a completely different route from what your family had destined for you. Going against their wishes and dissapointing a few members here and there was a price you were willing to pay in order to fulfill a lifelong dream. The prize of independence. Or perhaps you were tired of people telling you what you could and couldn't do. The idea of an adventure, exploring new worlds and galaxies, far far away from home was far more attractive than spending your years trying to fix a dying planet. But you also had a knack for helping and aiding those in need. Being a healer with a vast background of medicine and herbs only came natural to you. And as you graduated top of your class, you sought a new challenge. So you joined the space force. Military training was hard but you managed adquedately.  And as you finally becamea full-fledged medic, you signed a contract with the RDA to be shipped off to Pandora.

Save to say, the six years of light-year travel did take a toll on your body. It was often emphasized that dreams do not occur during cryo sleep. Yet, your case was the opposite. Over and over you saw visions of a lush, prehistoric forest that almost looked magical and foreign. Due to overpopulation and pollution, nature seized to exist altogether back on earth, so thinking of what this mythical Pandora may look like, sparked a fire in the pits of your stomach. You began to wonder if these dreams held any meaning to them... or if it was just your brain chemistry running haywire during the cryogenic sleep. The closer you got, the giddier you grew - excited and electrified at the idea of setting foot on one of the most precious planet known to man. Perhaps in the entire universe.

After your space shuttle finally docked at the RDA's space station, you were quickly briefed on your assignment by the announcers, guiding you to the nearest secretary. The secretary looked over her glasses and tossed you an illegible glare before sighing with a shake of her head, handing you your paperwork. "May God have mercy on you," she mumbled before calling for the next candidate. You took the papers hesitantly, brows furrowing in confusion before your eyes cast down on  on these said documents. Your eyes widened as your heart nearly sank. You were assigned to assist military Avatar personnel? You looked back up at the lady who was now grinning at you, a glint playing in her gaze. "Fresh meat for the grinder. It's a bit crass they decided to assign a small girl such as yourself to help these beasts," You slowly nodded, an awkward semi-smile forming on your lips, "I guess I like a challenge," you said, tone matching her sarcastic one. You have studied them for three years now, after all. You were prepared.

A few labcoats accompanied by a good portion of cleanroom suits were helping you find your way before passing you your exopack mask. It was the first time you'd ever seen one of those from up close. The concept of not being able to breathe the atmosphere was somewhat daunting. But it was something you had to get used to if you wanted to survive Pandora's 'Adapt or Die' rules. Wasting no time, you quickly strapped them on and secured the clasps, allowing the small piece of machinery to flood your nostrils with fresh oxygen. Impressed, you found it was much clearer and cleaner than that of Earth's... sadly enough.  You then remembered the comment from the secretary earlier on, echoing in your mind over and over again until it festered in the back of your subconscious. Anxiety began to take a hold of you, shaking your confidence ever so slightly.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you then issued a curt nod to your superiors who lastly gave you a clipboard, detailing all of your duties and rank among the Recom unit members. "Ready, greenhorn?" Dr. Vasquez piped up, drawing you from your trance. You blinked at him with a wide-eyed deer-caught-in-headlights look, lips parting, "Y-yeah." he chuckled in response to your nervousness before slapping a hand on your shoulder in confidence. "Don' worry, they may look very scary at first glance, but you will soon realize they are professionals just like us, alright?" You nodded, swallowing the lump down your throat before clamping the board beneath your armpit. "Alright then kiddo, let's rock'n'roll," he said with a smirk before punching in a security code to unlock the doors to the decompressors.

The air was filtered to fit the atmosphere of the recoms. Which was in turn, extremely toxic to humans. Unconscious in twenty seconds - dead in four minutes. The prospect didn't sound like very glamorous death. As the door opened, a hiss emitted from the pressure, giving way to the bright light of the sun peaking through the glass windows. Vasquez marched forward before beckoning you to join him. Upon entering, the energy of the room immediately shifted. It was almost palpable to the touch.

A good part of your confidence was chipped away once you laid your eyes on your future teammates. Breath nearly caught in your throat. To say they were tall was a big understatement. They were huge - as a matter of fact - larger than life! Nothing could've prepared you for this. Most of them stood at around ten feet and nearly scraped the ceilings if they hadn't been adjusted to meet their physiology. You continued to saunter forward, one tentative step at a time, eyes still glued to their physiques without so blinking an eye. Their bodies were even more strange, striking you with awe. Slender, graceful, svelte, yet powerful. The complexion was a deep cyan or darker powder blue, decorated in interesting patterns and luminescent dots, all accompanied by a long prehensile tail that idly swung from side to side, giving them a more animalistic edge. They were all broad-shouldered, even the women, as you scanned the room with all the blue-skinned individuals lurking about, their poise signifying a certain strength and fortitude that of a warrior. They could easily toss a person across the room and break every single bone in their body with one blow if they wished.

Eyes were striking like molten gold peering from the shadows, intensely following your every move. Their previous chatter immediately died down as their eyes glued to you and the other scientists. Vasquez took his position next to someone who seemed much more commanding and authoritive compared to the rest. He stood slightly taller and wore a khaki tanktop, exhibiting a set of toned, muscular arms placated on his hips. You caught a glimpse of his tattoo on his left arm. A black eagle. A remnant of his previous life? Or something to distinguish himself from the others, perhaps?

The way he walked with a certain swagger, taking a stance next to Vasquez, sharp yellow eyes peering into the hall, had you nearly choke on your own saliva. He was an intimidating man,  "As you all know, we are sent here to accomplish a mission that we couldn't last time. To hunt down and terminate the leader of the Na'vi insurgency, Jake Sully.  And in order to ensure our success, we have been assigned our personal medical officers who specialize in Na'vi physiology. They make sure none of us step out of line and patch us up during missions. Treat 'em with respect, ya hear? They are as much our responsbilities as we are theirs," his tone was a low, commanding drawl, hinting at his possible origin back from Earth. He also sounded a tad older than his bio stats suggested.

"Wait, we're going to have these science pukes tag along?" Someone groaned in the background.

Doctor Vasquez nudged you with his elbow before whispering something into your ear. So he was the colonel. Colonel Miles Quaritch. The leader of the first recombinant unit Deja Blu, the first Avatar squad produced by Project Phoenix. Vasquez then nodded and brought you and another male medical officer. Thankfully you weren't alone. And as you peeked into the crowd, practically feeling their eyes rake over your forms in a very scrutinizing manner, you wished there were more human scientists to accompany you. "Listen up Recoms," Vasquez announced, matching Quaritch's energy. Which you had noticed, was now glancing at you over his shoulder with a lazed stare. You quickly turned away, hating that all of their attention was on you now. Just great. "Those are your new medical officers," he gestured to both you and your counterpart, earning him a few whispers and hushed conversations between the Na'vi hybrids. The heavily tattooed individual grunted loudly, expressing a clear distaste at the fact.

You watched as the one with the camo cap began to chuckle before leaning over to the tattooed female with the mohawk, gossiping something into her ear. Your eyes narrowed at her, hoping to God they weren't talking shit about you. The male medic next to you semed quite nervous himself, almost glistening with a faint sheen of sweat whenever the light hit his complexion. Oh man... what a great start. "This here is Mr. Ryan," Vasquez said confidently and clamped a hand on his shoulder before pulling you to his side with a toothy grin, "And this is Miss (y/n). They're going to do a quick checkup on your vitals before we make land on Pandora. Their status reports will affect your mission. If you have any further questions regarding any of that, feel free to ask them. Good luck and have fun," he said before departing, giving you a two-finger salute before vanishing out the door.

For a moment, you wished he hadn't abandoned you so soon, but as you stood there, again with the hundred yard stare, you instantly began pulling out your clipboard, training your eyes on the papers rather than the giant soldiers around you. Quaritch cleared his throat before stepping forward, closing in on your proximity. The heat practically rolled off of him. Almost radioactive in a sense. "Right. Welcome to the crew," he said as a deep rumble of chuckles resonated within the hall. You flicked your attention back on them, seeing as their expressions turned from scrutiny to amusement. The one with the hat flicked his chin toward Ryan, "So you get to touch us all around?" Ryan nodded cautiously, "Yes, in a sense. We need to do some physical checkups to make sure your bodies haven't mutated or caught any diseases on the way here and-"

"So you're gonna be cupping my big blue balls, too?" he said, making an obscene gesture as the team burst out in synchronized laughter. Mr Ryan pursed his lips in frustration. You felt his pain, it was nearly palpable.

You were so not ready for this... "Shut your horny mouth, Ja!" one of the female recoms hollered, smacking him on the back of his head.

Judging by the 'joke', you came to the conclusion that they were full-blooded jarheads. You sighed before ticking something off your clipboard. "And what about her? Is she good with her small hands?" At this your eyebrows twitched before you began searching for the miscreant of this statement. Seeing as the one with the bandana had crooked a finger at you. "Man, she does look cute tho... tiny lil thing. What's good, mama?" their banter continued, slapping and fist bumping each other, having the time of their lives. What a fucking farce - you thought to yourself begrudgingly. The behavior reminded you of teenagers experiencing the surge of hormones for the first time. You couldn't believe Vasquez had vouched for their professionalism. Perhaps he was in on the joke as well. "Shut your pie holes. They're here to help, not entertain you, you fucking lowlifes. Treat'em with respect or I'll have your ass handed back to the infirmary, you get me?!" Quaritch's voice boomed, immediately silencing the lively chatter among his subordinates.

Looking over at the colonel, you saw his hardened, chiseled features directed toward you with an unreadable expression. His pointed ears were tucked back against his head as he issued you a small nod. You repaid him with the same respect and inclined your head in acknowledgment before moving on to your first patient. "Brown?" you said, louder than originally intended before you flicked your gaze around the room, searching for any response. "Steven Brown?" you repeated with a bit more clarity. The mohawk lady merely snorted with arms folded, watching you as you searched for your first victim. Suddenly a blue hand lifted, alerting you of your designated recom, seeing that he looked a little less grim and intimidating. Although equally large, he seemed a bit more approachable, in your eyes at least. With that being said, it wasn't exactly a joyride pushing and squeezing yourself through, as some of them actively made an effort of staying rooted to the spot, entertained at your slight struggle. You could have sworn hearing someone wolf whistle at you but you pushed those thoughts aside when you reached your destination.

He was slightly shorter than the rest, not that you could tell right away as he was seated on one of the benches slightly hunched over, his posture overly lax. Much like the others, he sported that classical short military haircut and fade. "Alright doc, whaddya got for me?" he drawled with a certain bite. You decided not to overanalyze everything, as you were already extremely nervous. You meanwhile scribbled down all of the data before setting the clipboard down, looking him in the eye. He remained there, sitting there in silence, monitoring you with a peculiar glint playing in his topaz irises. "Alright, Mr. Brown, could you please stretch out your right arm? I need to take some samples and check your haemogram if that is alright with you," you explained as you flashed him a polite smile while the convos in the background resumed.

Brown simply nodded and muttered a small 'sure thing' before complying with your wishes. Once he extended his appendage, you got a chance to examine it closely - realizing just how large and sinewy his arm was. The texture was interesting too, differing not much from human skin, save for the lack of arm hair. "Finding a vein shouldn't be a problem," you jest before pulling out a small device for blood sampling. It was not a syringe, but a highly advanced gadget that locked down on the skin cell before drawing a bit of blood. "Alright, just let me disinfect this real quick..." you continued before wiping the spot with a small disinfectant wipe, clearing it from any bacteria. The feeling of his skin was curious, smooth yet somehow rougher to the touch compared to human flesh. Pandora's rough climates had evolved them to become perfect survivors as even their skin was harder to penetrate.  Brown tilted his head to the side, ears swiveling curiously when you placed the blood-letting machinery against the crook of his arm. A small pinch broke through his flesh, extracting only a few tiny droplets. "There we go, that's about it-" Before you could continue, however, you caught Brown sending you a mischievous wink. "Didn't hurt at all, doc."

"Got what ya need, Miss (y/n) or... did I get that right?" you felt blood rush to your cheeks, heating your face altogether. They were trying to rile you up on purpose now... "(Y/N) right, but just call me by my first name. No need for being formal," hoping it would somewhat diffuse the awkward tension between you and the recoms. However, things did not go as planned when Brown's brows lifted for a short moment before his ears rotated in your direction, more attentive than before. "Well good to know, (y/n), looking forward to working with ya," your breathing became heavy to his deliberate teasing as he allowed himself to lean forward. You nearly jumped at his sudden intrusion "So (y/n), what does my blood test say?" just then the analysis was completed, giving you a clear stats report on his bloodwork.

"So far so good... bloodwork looks normal. Cholesterol is in the green and.... well..." His face faltered a bit, "What?" "be sure to consume fewer sugary drinks or sweets but other than that, you're fine. Wouldn't want you to be the first adipose soldier on Pandora," his features continued to crack "You calling me fat, doc?" he said before warming up to a smirk. You leaned away from him to avoid his sudden boldness. "Nah, just reminding you to be on your best behavior if you want to keep up with the rest, alright?" Brown scoffed with a shake of his head as you took your clipboard with you, writing down all of the info as well as checking a few boxes. "I'll get back to you later, just need to do the same with.... uh.. Wainfleet?" you asked, squinting your eyes to spot someone a bit taller and a tad bit more athletic looking. He lacked hair, like some of the others as he wiggled his fingers at you flirtatiously, a crooked smile plastered on his lips. "The one and only," you grunted in affirmation, feeling some of the dread returning before you headed over.

A sudden ticklish sensation and force tugged at the crook of your knee, having you to stumble and nearly fall flat on your face. Walker clicked her tongue with a roll of her eyes, "Come on Kevin, leave the poor girl alone already!" Quaritch's nostrils flared when he caught Brown fucking with you. A move of his tail that hooked around your leg in order to trip you. "You better secure that shit, Brown before I clip that thing off, capiche?" He growled, causing Brown to stiffen immediately. Eventually, he lowered his head and ears ".... yes sir... sorry,"

You managed to calm your thundering heart as you eyeballed Brown with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. What an asshole. Is that how it was going to be all the time? Good lord... how much you began to regret signing up for this particular unit. "Mr. Wainfleet?" you said softly, approaching the man cautiously as he eyed you up and down with that same grin on his face.

"Call me Lyle, sweetums. Only my mother calls me Mr. Wainfleet. So.... here to check the goods? Or maybe even get a feel?" Lyle chuckled before flexing his built physique, making you watch his biceps bulge and swell. The action made your throat dry out like the Sahara desert. Just what in the world have you gotten yourself into...

[busycucumbermelon]

Five vampire siblings, with one obsession

Summary : you never thought that your standoff-ish attitude and how you learned to behave at Sunshine Academy would backfire on you, especially in this way: having five people obsessed with you was far from easy.

Warning: blood,broken bones, very traumatized reader, vampires, threatening, sketchy jobs/illegal jobs, tell me if I missed any

Description of a Demi humans just in case Demi-humans once looked like animals, but have morphed over generations into human-like beings with animalistic features. story starts below this.I hope you love it or at least like it.🥰😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Author note

If you want a series or something with these characters, please give me ideas or requests as I'm not really sure what to do with them. Additionally, if you see that I have misspelled any names or the spelling isn't similar, please let me know as I'm unsure how to properly spell them and have been winging it myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since you were six, you lived at Sunshine Academy, trained with Demi-human to serve owners. Occasionally, they allowed humans for tests, experiments, or their underground fighting ring, where many patrons enjoyed watching humans being pummeled to the ground. You survived it all, but the Academy decided to sell you off since you weren't making enough money for them. Everyone knew you'd survive, which ultimately led you to your current situation.

With your best friend becoming a  servant, to two of your five new owners - although you preferred to call them kidnappers - you struggled to adapt to this new life as one of their prized possessions.

Sadly, your indifference toward pain, your fighting skills, your ability to quickly solve problems, and your inability to be vulnerable with anyone besides your best friend - their servant - ultimately ended up pushing them all to the point of obsession. In their minds, you had no flaws except for that one: you didn't know how to be vulnerable with anyone other than your best friend. To them, you were the perfect plaything, and they used your skills and talents for their own benefit.

You also had a good mouth on you, and you weren't afraid to argue back with anyone, especially if you knew you were in the right. This often resulted in all of them being at each other's throats, which could be seen as both a win and a loss for them, and you.

This was a good opportunity to teach them how to share, which of course annoyed all of them. The only reason they were all together was because their mother had important news to share that she wanted to tell them at the right moment. In the meantime, the siblings tried to just sit it out so they could inherit the house. Well, it was not a house—it was a castle, and now, they had to deal with each other's constant presence on a daily basis, which was making them go stir-crazy.

Milmira and Marissa were the oldest siblings, and they were the new owners of your previous best friend, and still your best friend. This meant you spent a lot of time around the two of them, and luckily, they didn't feel like changing the name you had given him (Reiner) so that's the name he stuck with.

When you and Reiner first met, he was the same age as you—four years old. However, he had already been taken from his parents and sold into the Sunshine Academy.

Reiner was a ram Demi-human, and surprisingly enough, the two of you got along pretty well. Reiner was also the main reason you met some of your other friends back at Sunshine Academy.

Reiner, he became a servant to two people who would constantly interrupt your conversations and override the fact that the two of you were even talking. These two people would tell Reiner to either leave the room or to go do a menial task for them. Due to Sunshine Academy's intensive training, Reiner had a sense of loyalty and commitment, and he would do whatever he was told.

Marissa and Milmira were the only twins in the group, and they were used to sharing everything, including you. Without your knowledge, they had come to an agreement that they would also be sharing you. However, this arrangement felt like a complete surprise to you.

That's when you felt that you needed to take a break from them, or, well, try to do so to the best of your abilities. Even though you tried to find ways to distance yourself from them, the siblings had a discussion and decided to take away the room you had been designated. This meant you would have to hop rooms and sleep with one of the siblings or with a servant. However, luckily, you had made a bond with a few servants, which made your situation a little more bearable.

Occasionally, a sweet otter from the kitchen would allow you to share her bed or sleep on the floor in her room. You didn't mind sleeping on the ground, as it was something you had often done at Sunshine Academy. In addition, there was an overly clumsy deer who would let you sleep in his room at times, although it depended on whether he wanted you to or not. Of course, if neither of them wanted you to sleep with them, you would have to go to one of the siblings' rooms or Reiner's.

At times, when you would put up a fit, Reiner would get punished for it. This happened because the punishment would hit close to home for you. Additionally, since your training at the Sunshine Academy made you used to pain from them, they couldn't punish you by breaking bones or anything of that nature.

After a week of being standoffish and grumpy, while Reiner tried to calm you down and get used to his role as a servant, the twins instituted your first punishment: You don't remember much of the punishment itself, except Melmira giving you a soft apology before her fist met your ribs. Although you barely even said anything besides a small "Oh," you felt the crack and heard it, but you didn't move a muscle or indicate any signs of pain.

This unsettled all of them, as they were used to humans screaming in pain, while you just sat there. You didn't even move to stop her hand.

The twins each had very different reactions, as they were used to sharing everything, feelings included. Melissa, on one hand, was torn between feeling awfully proud and excited to see what else you could do, while simultaneously worrying what Sunshine Academy had taught you, as you were a human who shouldn't have been there in the first place. On the other hand, Milmira also felt worried and tried to bring up the topic, only for Melissa to brush it off.

In contrast, Milmira was worried about your closeness to Reiner from the beginning, as your attachment to him hinted at possible unresolved attachment issues. After she had broken your ribs, she became even more certain that something had happened at Sunshine Academy that the rest of the world was not aware of. Milmira was the more gentle and considerate twin.

Marissa and Melissa had vastly different reactions to seeing one of the siblings getting in trouble or drama occurring. While Melissa often wanted to stay out of it or watch from the sidelines, Marissa would cheer it on and add fuel to the fire. Meanwhile, whenever you tried to tell her that these situations aren't anything to be happy about, her excitement would often overpower any reasoning.

This was one of the reasons why the twins often got into long fights with their siblings, as well as one of the reasons they didn't like being in the castle—they were used to traveling and going wherever they liked. This would also be beneficial for their careers, although they had never told you about them, as none of them really informed you about their respective careers.

After a few days, you started to figure out more about them. You were used to studying people, especially since you held a high rank at the Sunshine Academy. On a few occasions, you slipped up and mentioned that you knew more than they had told you, and although no one said anything, your actions implied that you had been watching and studying them quietly.

Although Marissa never really noticed or paid attention to this, Melissa actually did take note. At first, Melissa thought you might just have a good memory or be observant, but now she had her suspicions. She knew that something was up, but she wasn't sure exactly what it was yet. She also didn't know if her siblings had discovered it either.

Krollien also discovered this, and he was the next to give you a punishment. However, before that happened, he decided to give you time for your ribs to heal and see if he could investigate your mysterious past and figure out what it was that you were hiding.

Krollien took this time to get to know you, much to the dismay of his head servant Jessie. You soon learned that Reiner was the twins' head servant, which meant he would have to be around them 24 seven, further limiting his interactions with those outside of this seemingly exclusive group.

This new information made you even more hyper aware of your surroundings, and how the rest of your stay would likely go, although none of them truly saw or noticed anything. You were, after all, quite good at bottling up your emotions, even with them all spending so much time with you.

Just one thing, to continue occupying your mind: why was everyone so upset about being in the castle, and why were they all supposed to be in the castle in the first place? Whatever it was, it seemed like it was taking forever...

While you wanted to figure out everyone and how you fit into their weird life, you knew you'd have to start with Krollien. Even though he was in a bad mood, his mood seemed to lighten when you were around. You soon realized that he hated being in the castle and seeing his siblings everywhere.

Whenever you tried asking him a direct question such as, 'How do you fit in to all of their weird lives? If they were all so obsessed with you and hated each other, how would they share?' He would simply laugh it off and tell you that you'd see in due time.

When he wasn’t trying to spend time with you, he was budgeting and doing other things you didn’t really understand. budgeting especially because at the time he was using terms, you didn’t get understand

In the middle of falling asleep,you would learn he ended up taking a vineyard to live in from one of his clients after not paying him back. this was when you started to have a grasp on what he actually did for work.

You thought you were pretty good at math so occasionally you’d offer to help him with something math involved. this was usually to Jesse’s dismay. as Krollien would always tell her to go away, so he could talk to you for a little bit free of interruptions

Even though this would often result in you teasing Krollien about his nickname for Jesse, which was "Bunny," something that he felt was supposed to demean her, you thought it was romantic and sweet, and you would occasionally bring it up when he annoyed you or if you wanted to annoy him in return. This would often make him frustrated and slightly embarrassed, and his response to this would always make you laugh.

Krollien’s frustration stemmed from the fact that his little sister, Lilybet, would often make the same joke before he left the castle. Although he might have found it amusing at first, it eventually began to grate on his nerves, especially as she continued to do it again and again.

The more she and lilybet got to know each other, the more she started to understand her circumstances. Lilybet didn't have a job outside of training servants - unlike her siblings who all had different illegal and legal jobs. When she wasn't training servants, she was mostly just trying to be the perfect daughter - something her mother did by having her wear very frilly dresses, which she constantly complained to you about.

Now she was starting to understand her siblings' worries, but she decided she would not worry about it too much and simply continue to get to know you. She was still competing with her siblings to see who’s official pet you would be - even though their mother told them to share, they all knew they weren't going to do that.

She especially hated the constant comments from her younger brother, Silus. Although they lived in the same house, there was still a sort of rivalry between them. All of the other siblings had already left and created their own estates, but the two of them remained there, waiting until their mother died to see who would get the estate. Still, this didn't mean there wasn't a lot of tension between them, with Silas always blackmailing her, and she doing the same in return.

Lily had a confusing behavior. After a hard, rough day, she wasn't usually very cuddly and often just wanted everyone to stay away from her. However, she let you stay. Occasionally, she wouldn't let you leave her arms after a really rough day. She would only get more and more annoyed if it wasn't her day with you.

Lilybet genuinely adored you, but when she had heard about her siblings hypotheses of your past could be she was less interested in how it affected you mentally and more about how it changed you physically. She knew you had a pain tolerance that was almost unbelievable. What else could you do? You didn't even flinch when your ribs were broken.

She brought you along on head servants' tests and training - occasionally giving references. One day, she decided that you would be the challenge - not as a real threat, but simply to teach the servants not to judge an opponent simply based on appearances. It happened only once, and something in you did change, although it was brief. For a second, Lilibet was genuinely scared for the servant's life.

Another person also saw you that day - albeit out of curiosity and a bit of fear. You're different than anything else that has ever been created or painted, making you much more intriguing. This made you even more special and the perfect subject to paint.

 Silas was an avid fan of art, specifically his interest in humans. He was very much into tattoos and the beauty of the human body. However, his tattoo-covered body always caused distress among his siblings and the mother. Still, he made it his goal in his business to show exactly that - the beauty of life in all its natural forms.

To you, his way of showing his affection to the world was definitely not beautiful. Silas would beg to differ, though, your days with him were mostly spent with him painting you. While he was kind of.... To put it simply, rude, his head servant told you that this is simply his way of showing he liked you. If he didn't, you would have been dead by now.

Silas didn’t praise often, and he was always filled with snarky responses; teasing manners; and occasional compliments on your features whenever he was painting you. In general, he was rude, and just a person you liked to stay away from. Unfortunately, you were now his household pet. While that word was very demeaning and beneath your status - no, you refuse to believe it - it seemed to be true.

You were not claiming yourself to be above any of the other servants in any way, shape or form. You didn't understand why this was happening to you. Why you had to be the chosen pet? Why not some other human? Why you?

Anyways, let's go back to Silus. We can talk more about the mental torment later.

Silas is very different compared to his siblings. He doesn't care what his mother thinks, and he barely cares about any of his siblings' opinions. His relationships with his siblings are relatively good besides Krollien - the two are completely different and hate each other, as they are complete opposites.

Just like the rest of his family members, he was not exactly a morning person. Silus was also different than his siblings when it came to restraining his strength with you, perhaps because of your past. Whatever the reason, he had a good excuse to not hold back when he was with you.

Whenever you tried to move out of his grasp, he would either pull you closer or tighten his grip on your waist. The twins would always comment on the purple hand marks on you, each sibling having their own way of putting their mark on you. However, these hand marks would last until you were with Silas again, right before he renewed them. These marks weren't even fully healed before they appeared again

Though the marks were not sexual in nature, you hated just lying there in bed. Silas, on the other hand, would happily stay in bed all day, unless it was for his work which he would brag about to you, or when he was painting. You were always his muse, but if you weren't there to model for him, his paintings would usually become inspired by nature instead. The only exceptions were when his siblings intervened because they were not letting him spend all of his time with you.

Silas wasn't always affectionate, but he would show a sudden softer side when it came to you. He would perform actions that were definitely out of character for him, and if anyone made a comment about how he did it for you, but not for someone else, they would not be around for very long afterwards.

Every one of Silas' siblings had their own 'special thing' they would do only for you. This moment only made their mother realize that she may have just made her own life a lot harder. She still saw you as a pet, but she feared that if she didn't have control over all her sons and daughters, they would continue to act as if you were on a pedestal, and she would lose any chance of gaining their true obedience.

Many of the family members, including Lilibet, had opinions on their mother that weren't very positive, many of them negative. Lilibet tried to gain her respect, but it was just for the money, and many of the servants had their own opinions on her - most of the opinions were not positive in the slightest. Their mother knew that you might just be the child who makes them realize that she doesn't offer them as much as they believe. In their minds, she is their mother, after all.

To the mothers, you weren't really much of a threat. You were a lowly human, and she could easily kill you if she wanted to. In the past, she had killed her children's previous human lovers after all. This time, however, something was different. Their infatuation with you quickly grew and turned into an obsession, and they could not seem to get you out of their minds - especially after you became aware of this obsession. It was hard to get five obsessed vampires away from a single human.

[thirdtidemouse]

hilda characters in taskmaster, if this means anything to anyone:

for context, taskmaster is a show hosted by greg davies and pathetic assistant (/creator) alex horne. each series five comedians are made to do pointless and difficult tasks and are awarded points. it ends up being very very funny and very amicably argumentative.

for now, i'll do my classic 5 faves, but i would love to do more like edmund + some ocs!

hilda - starting with the kids, likely winner. i mean she is the main character, but she has those problem-solving skills and unbeatable enthusiastic spirit (which would definitely take a beating in this godawful game). i considered how different the competition might be given that they're kids? but lenny rush recently competed at 14 and he did awesome. hilda would definitely stand up for herself if she thought her score or the task was unfair but she is a good sport all round. most likely to miss the huge hidden-in-plain-sight clues. here to have fun but not fuck around. all the cheerful demeanor of rob beckett. likes to very gently make fun of alex. would never ever give up.

"what you can't take away from me is that i had an absolutely lovely day."

"people say my ADHD means i have shit problem solving skills. no sir!"

frida - nerdiness to rival josh widdicombe. knows the taskmaster's tricks and snoops all around for clues/hidden solutions. genuine competence and competitiveness of someone like sarah kendall, as indignant and argumentative as ed gamble. the one time she doesn't find the hidden alternative answer is when the main pathway is just 'do a really long maths sum to get the code for the lock' and she just gets on with it because she can. tries not to act overly proud of herself but after a particular stressful win she definitely gets up and cheers. argues with other contestants. gets very annoyed by alex and sometimes tells him to shut up.

"the only way i get out of this with any dignity is if i die right now."

[to a small plush vole] "you've got no chutzpah! your organizational skills are lacklustre, and your timekeeping is abysmal."

david - the awkward swagger of james acaster but absolutely 0 of his winning spirit. definitely a fan-favourite pathetic contestant. the show would wear his psyche down so much he would snap and end up begging for points in a total breakdown à la joe wilkinson. gets genuinely cocky after a rare win. gets very stressed out by alex and is very scared of greg. like mae martin, is initially very nonchalant about the tasks, but can become freaked out quickly. not very good at getting points. ashamed of his failures and overjoyed with his successes. most likely to be given a humiliating solo task.

"please don't take it away from me."

"well well well! looks like last in P.E., first in being a legend!"

johanna - total sweetheart, smiling all the time even when she fucks up and loses, much like charlotte ritchie. although she does fuck up and lose considerably less. less nervous though, here to have fun AND fuck around. a sally phillips approach to tasks, meaning chill as fuck, inconspicuously normal contestant, that consistently produces either the most terribly planned OR the most creatively out of pocket and deranged 'solutions', of which back in the studio she has zero explanation for and can only laugh uncontrollably as if it wasn't entirely her idea. this will inevitably win her a lot of points but she will fall short on something like charlotte ritchie's first prize task, in which she brings in all of her bedding, is told 'you can't just pick up stuff from around your house,' and is given last place. this also makes her place her head in her hands and giggle. her attitude carries charlotte's consistent likeness to a children's tv show host. zaniness and well-spoken ramblings of mike wozniak.

"when you have no other ideas, you stick to your bad idea."

"i was excited, there was fire, i'd been told to undermine a vole and i let him have it."

kaisa - will not embarrass herself for love nor money. could not give a fuck about any of you people and simultaneously is incredibly determined to win. would get increasingly distraught with the incompetence of any teammates in an ed gamble outburst. despite this, is a cooperative and hardworking teammate. would spend long periods of time in silent thought before carrying out her plan with no explanation along the way. like james acaster, does not ever say hello to alex, just because she 'doesn't have to.' generally does not like alex. to quote jamali maddix, 'he's a punk. i don't like him.' acts like a rebellious teen in the presence of greg. i have no solid outfit headcanons right now but she would wear what bridget christie wore:

"i've got three sensitivity levels! and i'll be honest, i'm on my top fucking one right now!"

"i knew we were against the clock, and i didn't give a fuck" 

and here is my final test of character - one of the most simple and most telling tasks, from the very first episode:

"eat as much of this watermelon as you can in one minute."

hilda - romesh ranganathan. upon entry of the lab, she wields the watermelon above her head and smashes it into the floor, devouring as much of it as she can. total tunnel vision. she throws up a little at the end. wins the task.

frida - josh widdicombe. enters prepared with a knife, manages to hurriedly cut and eat a portion of the watermelon, with not nearly as much vigor as hilda. is not giving up any dignity for this. 3rd place.

david - frank skinner. was not expecting a whole watermelon. manages to quickly get into the melon but falls short at his eating speed. is clearly trying not to choke. 4th place.

johanna - tim key. no utensils required. cracks it open right there on the table, eating as fast as possible, almost to the same wild and untamed degree as her daughter. is docked points because she sneaks a final bite of watermelon after the minute is up, just because she enjoys it. 2nd place.

kaisa - roisin conarty. was also not expecting a whole watermelon. total lack of urgency in comparison. leaves the room and spends 50 of her 60 seconds retrieving a knife, which she totally could have done beforehand, manages to crack open and eat a total of 9 grams of the watermelon before her time is immediately up. last place. couldnt give a fuck though

thanks for reading guys. if you have anything to add or ask then please do. peace and love

[panelshowsource]

now that s17 is over, how did you like it? it feels like most people either thought it was mild or weak, which makes me sad, so i stopped going to the discussion threads about it :""( i also don't see much anticipation for s18...

aww anon well, first, if you had a good time then that's what matters! so i hope series 17 brought you a little joy each week, that's what panel shows are for in my humble opinion 😚

because i know i'm about to word vomit some word salad, i'll throw out some s17 reactions + s18 thoughts below the cut! that way anyone who is sick of my nonsense doesn't have to scroll past it lmaooo

series 17 was a decent one! i don't think it's in the hall of fame, but it's definitely nowhere near the couple of "unwatchables" as they're (pretty unfairly) called. i've talked before about one of the downfalls of a season is when a group doesn't harness their dynamic and take control of the show — when they're in the studio and just sit quietly, waiting for greg to give them permission to speak, things flow well for the editors but the experience lacks. this is why s1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, even 12 are so silly and chaotic: the contestants were constantly fighting, interrupting or pausing judging, trying to convince or gaslight or challenge greg, just...speaking! talking! interacting! if that doesn't happen, taskmaster can just feel like show and tell, which is not when it's at its best

ultimately, this is why too many polite and well-behaved people in a single series is a pleasant watch but doesn't hit very hard. this series was exceptionally nice, we have to admit. joanne followed by steve may have been the "hang on a second ☝️" contestants of the series, but not by a lot, meanwhile nick and sophie were the loveliest, pretty quiet people and john was dead silent most of the time. actually, that was something that ended up surprising me — john was so focused on the tasks, so focused on winning, most of the time he didn't pause to give significant, funny commentary while filming, didn't give us *nearly* the banter with alex i anticipated, and was particularly quiet in the studio. i knew he'd be in it to win it, don't get me wrong, but he approached taskmaster more as a richard herring than an ed gamble, if you know what i mean. it was very funny to me when he was on the tm podcast and was more or less like "i know i didn't prioritise being entertaining" lmao that earnestness can be sweet, because i do like to watch the show imagining how i would do each task, but his ~no nonsense~ approach was turned up to 11 for a lot more of the series than i anticipated. i almost wish john had leaned a little more into his self-aware neuroticism and competitiveness just because that's generally a good character on taskmaster — and this series was definitely missing that

(you know, talking about this really reinforces my belief that kerry godliman is perhaps the most perfect taskmaster contestant...ever. competitive, no nonsense and full of nonsense, top bantz, stands up for herself and tears down others but fights without being genuinely angry or butthurt, doesn't know enough to try and figure out a workaround for every single task, loves and bullies alex in equal measure... just love the woman. love her. fuck it, same for jess knappett. i miss my girls😭 this is ALSO why i think rosie is a great fit for tm)

anywayz i haven't read mucho mucho discourse about series 17, but it wouldn't surprise me if that's the vague "criticism" people: just more lowkey vibes than other series. but some people prefer that, so..!!!

i think, too, too many people look back at series 1–...7? at least and want to see the same greg–alex dynamic, approach to the prize tasks, approach to scoring, lil tricks, what have you — and that is not gonna happen again. ever. for example, greg and alex have talked too many times about how hard they try to score things "fairly" because that's become such a big point of conversation for the viewers at home and, atp, even the contestants. personally, i don't prefer that. fuck fair! this is not a real competition it's an entertainment show!! when greg was throwing out points willy nilly, bonus points for eating hair, giving 5 points to a prize just bc it's his personal sense of humour and ranking another contestant's prize low every week just bc that's a funny recurring joke/dynamic, whatever. i do not care. give phil wang 1 point every time. points schmoints. but that cannot happen anymore because the viewers starting taking the points so darn seriously. (not to mention the opportunity to do coc is now pretty coveted for its $$$ and exposure, too, i'd imagine.) the same goes for greg leaning into his dictator role, the master/slave relationship between him and alex, alex being super stoic and quiet — not only does tm think those characters and dynamics are played out, but in some ways the audience has evolved beyond all that

my point is that people get caught up in the Old Gen Taskmaster that hooked them and can't accept the ways in which the show has evolved — even if it's in their opinion for worse. do i think it would kill taskmaster to go back to slightly less convoluted tasks and commit to the 1–5 point system instead of constant ties (or "this was a 3-point effort")? no. i would like to see that lmao but i don't view the series through the lens of a series 1 fan anymore, either. a reality check would help a lot of complainers

i did read one thing i thought was interesting — that with the huge number of series we're at with tm uk, and now the accessibility of other countries' spin-offs, there is a bigger and bigger pool of God Tier Taskmaster to compare each new series to. it used to be "hmm does this new series stack up against series 4, one of the all-time greats?" but now we're stacking new series up against the top ~6 of tm uk, tm nz s2, a couple of the tm belgiums, tm aus s1, and so on. competition is stiff!! not many series can be The Very Best Of All Time, so with each new tm uk that isn't, people start to feel like the show has gone downhill when it probably is stagnant at worst. does that make sense?

i don't wanna sound like every criticism of tm can be explained away or comes from a bad place. as i've mentioned above, i have my qualms. this series, one of my major qualms and seriously unpopular opinions was that i didn't like that steve wasn't actually bringing in prizes half the time. like, he was doing bits and they were funny bits, but greg was scoring him mad high for the effort he put into his bits instead of the actual prizes he brought in for entry. i stand by that opinion, but the thing is i didn't let that ruin my experience of the show. but, maybe, it just comes down to the fact i want to like it...so i do ^^

maybe i talked way too much about criticism and negativity hahah some things i really enjoyed from this series:

nick is probably the second person following john kearns who i actively disliked before taskmaster specifically because i had only ever seen their comedy characters doing dictionary corner or a bit of standup — and i really didn't like them. (still never seen ted lasso!) lo and behold, they go on taskmaster and are S Tier Sweethearts and i see them both in totally new lights! in fact john's last standup show is being released shortly and i cannot wait to watch it — which me of the past would never believe i'm saying lmao so i'm so grateful the show opened my eyes to what a funny, sweet person nick is!! and may i say his and john's styles in the studio are massively underrated. they are both incredibly snazzy dressers!

steve and nick were a sweet little team weren't they! i think it would have been funnier to have john x sophie (the best and the worst, in their own ways) vs. the more harmonious steve x nick x sophie, but regardless it was very cute stuff

the location was great! i fucking love a big open field, i fucking love a river

greg has had some really strong intro "speeches" the last few series and i loved his this time around. they're just equal parts stupid and weird + his authoritative, classic greg delivery always makes me laugh heh

some of the strongest live tasks in a while!! catching the little monsters, passing the loo through the tube, bouncing the ball on the bar — all felt like quintessential uncomplicated classic taskmaster parlour games and they were good fun

TONS out outtakes content!

and gosh it's wonderful to have a new little hour of pleasantness to have each week :)

regarding s18... it's an interesting lineup! in a good way!! i think rosie's character is more or less a perfect fit for the taskmaster format. obviously she is one of the biggest female comedians in the uk right now, but i didn't bet on her doing tm because i didn't think the show could commit to accommodating her disability for 10 episodes. and, frankly, they may not — and i guarantee she is completely okay with that. she was born from the rhod gilbert school of showing up to fuck around, and i sleep soundly knowing she will do just that. i really like jack dee and i'm happy for alex to have made it work with him. it typically wouldn't be my choice to have two senior comedian white men on one series, and (unpopularly?) i'm not really a zaltzman person, but i have no doubt he'll be quite charming. emma sidi is part of the alex horne bubble of friends i have mentioned a few times before, but i actually don't know much about her. babatunde feels like a sensible fresh pick since he's been doing more variety/panel shows; i don't watch him on googlebox (which i love) because i don't like mo gilligan (very unsorry about this opinion heh), but what i've seen of him i've enjoyed! i don't think the group's dynamic is obvious just from their list of names, but the fact they're all comedians is VERY promising and makes me supersupersuper happy — all comedian lineups are historically the strongest. so yay!! but can you imagine who will be on a team?? god imagine a jack x rosie team lmfaoooooooooooo i live for the thought

hope that made sense and if it didn't whoops! don't mind me heheh

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 03.31.24

Is it me you're looking for? Yes, I know I've been M.I.A. for a bit, but you guys I'm really trying to upper level adult here. I have decided I'm going to buy a house. So I have hired a realtor and have started the process. When my lease is up again, I WILL be moving into my home.

Let's see if I remember how to set one of these up!

Original post 03/31/24 at 8:02PM EST

Chapter 9: Riley Brooks's Day Off

The Series: Life of Riley Book 2

The Book: TRR

Pairings: Liam x Riley (Liam x F!MC)

Status: Still in the writing process

Since the challenges Constantine had been coming up with weekly for the suitors were getting a lot of publicity for the crown, the suitors met weekly for a meeting with a PR specialist to make sure they had the crown’s best interests in everything they did. They also passed out weekly itineraries of what the Suitors would be doing. Did it ever reveal any events they would be participating in? No, but that their sponsor would be revealing the new task and prize for that week."

Riley thumbed through the itinerary, once than again looking confused.

“Is something wrong Lady Riley?”

“Jenna, my booklet seems to be missing a page. I have nothing for Friday’s itinerary .”

“Actually no you’re not. None of you are. Since I've just been brought into this role, I know you ladies are going through a lot being thrust into the public eye in this magnitude. Lady Riley, you for example, you are coming to us from America and have no experience with dealing with the nobility on a daily basis, and are completely learning how to navigate court successfully from scratch. I recognize this to be quite the experience. The potential reward of all of this is indescribable, but you all need breathing moments for mental and physical wellbeing. We are building in “off days” to your schedule to do what you want with it, a recharge day of sorts, or a mental health day if you will.”

“Well if you’re weak you need days off. I will spend my time training.” Olivia chimed in.

“If that is how you want to spend your day Olivia, there are no wrong answers, it’s free to do whatever you want, as long as you enjoy it.”

That evening:

“Of course, you would have an off day when I’m out of the country.” Liam sounded genuinely disappointed.

“I know I thought about that too.”

“Take it as an opportunity Riley, do some exploring, sleep in a little bit, we both know you like your sleep. Relax. You know, life moves really fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

“You’re completely right Liam. Thanks.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.”

“I do.”

When she hung up with him, she called Maxwell.

“What’s up Little Blossom?”

“I need your help.”

WIP 2

Part 3: Spice Spice Baby

Series: Not officially one: Previous Parts include: Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice

The Book: TRR

Pairings: Liam x Bebe (Liam x F!OC)

Status: Still in the writing process

I have never required that much sleep. There has always been something so peaceful about the world at night for me. I glanced at her once more before getting out of bed. She was soundly sleeping and didn’t even stir from her slumber as I rose. A good mattress will do that, and honestly I think she needed the rest. I slipped on my pajama pants and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

Night time was when I did my best thinking, and the thought crossed my mind that the two of us would be able to pull off this ruse with my coworkers. Bebe really did seem invested to make “us work.” Or maybe she was invested in the paycheck.

“Was my snoring keeping you awake?”

Bebe was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, resting her hip on the frame, her robe loosely tied.

“You don’t snore.”

“And you,” she gently tapped my nose with her pointer finger, “are a liar.”

“I wasn’t lying, I didn’t hear you snoring, or if you were, you weren’t disturbing me.”

“Why are you up, Liam?”

“Why are you up, Bebe?”

She quirked her eyebrow at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I rarely sleep through the whole night, I’m always up for a bit.”

“Why?”

Her stare from across the room was almost piercing my soul.

“Therapist was not one of your duties I'm paying you for in our contract.”

She looked surprised, but more importantly, hurt by my remark. In a split second I had turned her into a business arrangement that she was a prostitute, that I was paying for a service.

“Oh, well you’re paying me a handsome sum, therefore I feel like I should be anything you need me to be at the moment. I’ll just….”

I had hurt her feelings, and snapped at her, and I didn’t even know why, and the look in her eyes, I didn’t want to ever see that again.

“Life.” I called out to her before she was out of the room. Bebe immediately stopped and turned to face me.

“I can relate to that. Do you mind if I just sit up with you for a bit then?”

“No, not at all.”

Bebe settled into the couch next to me. She didn’t say a word, but I found her silence and non-judgment strangely comforting.

WIP 3

Part 4

Series: The Vampires Live On

The Book: TRR

The Pairing: Liam x Riley (in this decade Gabriel x Alice in the past)

Status: Still in the writing process

“We’re here.”

“I really didn’t think it would be this clean here. I know what you said, but looking at the other graves along the way here, I expected the same condition.”

“You know, I can be very persuasive, and keeping in contact as the groundskeeper’s changed over the years, very important in this. “

“I didn’t think they would be buried side by side.”

“Because that didn’t matter here, and since he died, protecting the two of you, his family wanted nothing to do with him.”

“Poor Max. He was such a good sweet guy. What we were, or not completely, never mattered to him.”

I placed the small flower arrangement into the vase at his grave.

“I have missed you dear friend,”

“I’m going to give you some time alone with your sister and friend.”

“You can stay.”

“No, I’ve been with you for an eternity, you have not had any time with her or him since that night. I want you to have some time alone with them. You deserve that.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

Even though the space around her grave was clean, I found myself picking up and pushing the few leaves and debris away to make her area more pristine.

I sat down in the grass in front of her grave and closed my eyes, letting the emotions of finally being here with her again wash over me.

“Hi Clara. I have missed you so much.”

WIP 4

Chapter 17: Finale Part 4: The Wedding

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎

The Book: TRH & Beyond

Pairings: Eleanor x Nico (Elle x M!OC) / Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

Final exams for Liberty had ensured that she wouldn’t be able to come to Greece early to take part in some of the pre-wedding festivities that Elle had planned. Elle felt guilty that Liberty would be missing her graduation from the Crown Academy to come to her wedding; her father had wanted to pull some strings for Liberty, but Elle declined, citing the importance of her education, though she did want her there.

Elle smiled as she panned the camera around the back yard.

"I really wish I was there Ellie."

"I really wish I was there. Libby! Look at you in your cap and gown. Father and I stepped away for a bit to watch the live feed of the baccalaureate."

"Thanks Ellie."

"For what?"

"Just making an effort. I can't wait to see you and everyone."

“Does that include Michail? He looked so sad when I told him you would not be here tonight.”

A slow smile crept over Liberty’s face.

“He looks sad?”

Elle laughed, “You’re clearly not about that.”

“Did he dance with any other girls?”

“Just one.”

“Who?”

Elle’s smile widened.

“Only me, when he could pull me away from Nico, all he talked about was you. He really likes you Libby.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, and he can’t wait to see you tomorrow and neither can I.”

“Neither can I!”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Time This Time 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (older [~50s] reader)

Character: Tony Stark

Notes: Alright. Tony is growing on me but only because he’s a shit stirrer.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like Tony loves his own voice. Take care. 💖

"Please clear the week. Reschedule my meetings," you toss a pair of unworn sandals into your suitcase, your phone on the bed next to it.

"Yes, ma'am," Halton answers from the speaker.

"I did a quick sweep, there shouldn't be anything urgent. As it were, we will not be accepting any new clients until the end of the month."

He acquiesces again as you open a drawer and sift through, searching for a swimsuit. You can barely recall the last time you needed one.

"You can file it as paid vacation," you inform him.

"Thank you," he says, the smile obvious in his tone.

"Well, off you go. I don't want to hear from you again unless it's an emergency," you find a black bikini with the tags still on.

"Got it."

"Great, have a good day," you drop the suit in the bag and tap the screen, ending the call.

Almost as soon as the line is dead, another incoming call pops up. Your morning has been effectively avoiding the series of attempts from both Samia and your mother. You've set your voicemail and your automatic replies, you are out of office and soon to be out of the country.

It's as spontaneous as you've ever been. You're a planner. You don't just hop on the next plane out but that's exactly what you're doing. 

Your father was the same way. When he was practicing, he never took a vacation. And what did that get him? A heart attack. Several, actually. There will never be a better time to get away or a better reason.

No, you won't give Stark that much credit. It's not just him, it's you. You're old enough, you need to start doing things just for you.

Another call. Your mother has never been known as subtle. Or to take a hint. Sometimes even when you spell it out, she refuses to understand.

So be it. You need a moment to breathe before you relent. You need a second wind before you face the task that is your family and your past. More so, you need to be far from New York.

👜

You cannot claim to be unfamiliar with decadence. It is a privilege you treasure but never one you place as requisite. You can still admire luxury and you would define the resort as nothing less than.

Your room has a broad balcony that overlooks the Italian coast, the sun beats down on the sparkling sea, and illuminates the space, shadowing intricate patterns carved in wood. The decor speaks of an old world drawn into the present. Refined and elegant.

You wear a caftan down to the shore and claim your reserved seat among the row of vacationers. You strip off the sheer layer and rub in suncreen before reclining beneath the shade of a broad umbrella. You open your book and dive into the plot, forgetting the hot sands and the stolid air.

You're still not used to it. It's as if you're on a whole new planet. The first day saw you fighting not to check your phone or delve into your work email. You fought the urge to cling to routine and won. Your determination has ever been a talent.

After twelve, you have your first cocktail. A simple gin drink with lime. You let it seep in and ease you back into your fictional escape. An attendant brings you a fruit cocktail and some pastries not long after.

It's paradise and you value it dearly. You hadn't realised how sorely you need this. 

As you pack up, balmy and slightly sleepy from the sun, a speck flits across the sky. You look up but cannot place the phenomenon before it disappears. Your imagination must've been sparked by the mixture of heat and alcohol.

You return to your room and enjoy a dinner of handmade gnocchi and wine sauce. The more you indulge, the harder you know it will be to go back to the city. Your peace is underlined by a strand of wistfulness.

Several days trickle by in the same vein of lethargy. You have no appointments, no calls, no obligations besides the beach, a cocktail, and a book. It’s as if you are an entirely different person, as if you’ve taken on someone else’s life entirely. The stuffy overworked lawyer is still trapped in New York with her leeching family and arrogant clients.

A few too many mojitos have you sprawled on the sofa. The open balcony lets in the warm dusk breeze and lulls you deeper into drowsiness. The weight of the alcohol shrouds your body, sweeping you up in a swirling slumber that makes you dizzy.

The soft whisk of metal doors shut and you look over as a button clicks beneath the push of a finger. You follow the arm, the dark fabric of a tailored jacket, to the familiar face. You sneer and take a step back, the elevator tipping with your movement. You stumble and fall against the wall.

He laughs. A menacing laugh that echoes all around you and adds to the disorienting skew of your subconscious. You brace the metal rail against the wall and suddenly, you’re falling back, plummeting through open air.

Bright flashes of white appear above you as you flail helplessly. The laughter is muffled but deep. You’re scooped up in a hard metal embrace, the red and gold mask taunting you as you’re carried through the open sky.

The metal retracts and reveals your saviour. Not who you expect. It isn’t Tony but Carlisle, mocking you with that slanted grin you once thought was charming. He winks and lets you go, letting you fall like a stone through water.

You spin and face the looming ground, hurtling faster and faster towards you. You let out a shrill scream and jolt awake as it cuts through to reality. You’re out of breath as you sit up, nearly rolling off the couch as the sharp noise continues. It isn’t you, but your phone, shrieking at you.

You stagger to get to your feet. You shiver, still in only your bikini, and the phone goes silent. You search around the dim room, the sounds of the ocean crashing through the open doors.

Your cell lights up again and you snatch it from the wooden tabletop. You drag your finger across the screen, only vaguely reading the name on the display; Samia. You answer with a croak, holding back a hiccup.

“About time!” She sounds like your mother with her abrupt greeting, “I’ve been calling you all day. Don’t you understand it’s a fucking emergency?”

“Samia,” you say dully, bracing your forehead, “shhhhh,” you amble around and sit on the sofa, “why are you yelling?”

“Are you drunk?” She accuses.

“I’m on vacation–”

“Yes, we know, but not all of us just run away from our problems–”

You snort. Loud. You devolve into sardonic laughter and click your tongue loudly.

“Don’t lecture me on running away from responsibility, Sam, don’t,” you warn, “tell me what it is. Let’s cut out the rest.”

She gives a dramatic heave, “mom’s in the hospital.”

“What?” You sit forward.

“She fell. This morning. I… I was looking at venues, I couldn’t be there.”

“Fuck!” You exclaim without filter, “Samia… have you seen her?”

“Mmm, I really wanted to but Carlisle–”

“Oh,” you snarl, “Carlisle!” You growl as you ball your hand to a tight fist, “I’ll get a flight.”

“I’m going in the morning, I prom–”

You hang up and throw your phone onto the narrow table before you. You hang your head, cradling it as you fear it might split in two. Were you really stupid enough to think you could ever catch a break?

👜

The redeye has you back in the city by noon. You fall into the rush of the city naturally, hailing a cab and collecting yourself in the back seat. You tip the driver as he idles outside the hospital and you hop out, rolling suitcase in tow as you march through the front doors.

It takes another hour to be admitted to your mother’s room. You don’t expect a warm welcome. You’re not entirely sure what to expect as you enter her private room. The nurse informs you before she lets you in that your mother is awake. That must be good.

The entire space is decorated in bouquets of flowers. You didn’t know your mother would have that many wellwishers. You leave your bag by the door as you give a long consideration to the red roses nearest you.

“Finally, you decide to show up,” she yaps at you.

“Flights from Italy are not quick,” you reproach, “I came as quickly as I could.”

“You wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

You repress your frustration, “I left it in my room. I’m sorry, mother.”

“Selfish, as always.”

You swallow tightly. Selfish. You cut short your first vacation since your honeymoon to come make sure she was alright. Even after calling and being assured by the staff that it was luckily only a fall. She hadn’t even broken her hip.

“Lovely flowers,” you remark as you walk along the row of vases.

“Oh, isn’t it so pretty? Mr. Stark is so generous–”

“Stark?” You spin on your heel, “what do you mean?”

“Well, of course, he heard that my daughters were both absent and he had to be here. Samia is so busy so she called him just to be sure that I wasn’t alone.”

“She called him. Why would she do that?”

“Oh, he’s been most helpful with the wedding. He’s let her have his Tower for her party and he’s been helping with all sorts of details. He referred her to a wonderful designer for her dress, too. Ah, and he’s invited Carlisle to some tournament? I think, golf or the like–”

“That makes no sense,” you sniff, “why is Tony Stark… doing all that?”

“Perhaps he sees a lonely old woman who’s been neglected by her only children,” she bemoans.

You know you won’t get the answer from her. She’s drunk the fresh-ade. She is entirely swindled by the overpaid crook.

“So, where’s Samia, then? She told me she was coming this morning.”

“She’s on her way, I’m sure. The city, traffic.”

You could scream. You could break her hip yourself. She would excuse Samia for not making it across the city but would remand you for not magically teleporting from across the globe.

“Well, I’m not waiting on her. I think we have something to discuss.”

“Is it lunch? I am rather hungry and this hospital food, it does not agree with me,” she touches her stomach, “Mr. Stark was kind enough to come for dinner last night but I hate to trouble him further.”

“That can wait. Mother, we are hiring you a caregiver.”

“A caregiver? I am not helpless.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying. But it would bring peace of mind if you had someone around when me and Samia are not. It wouldn’t be forever but given your fall, you will need supervision.”

“Oh, so you can take time to go traipsing across the world but you can’t take any for me?”

You cross your arms and sigh. You stare at her blankly.

“It’s not an argument, it’s not a negotiation. It is how it will be. You are getting a nurse, at least until the physiotherapist clears you. That’s that.”

She scoffs, “ugh, you always did have the makings of a lawyer, you know that?”

“Thank you,” you retort harshly, “that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, lord, what is up your behind? You’ve always been trite but you’ve never like this.”

“Mother, realise that you are not the only one with hardships, yes? I have to make sure you are well, which is what I am doing. I have attend the wedding of the husband who cheated on me, and I have to deal with the that is—” You stop yourself before you can say his name, “I have work. I have responsibilities and I hold to them. And it will never be enough.”

You wave her off and go back to the door, “I will order you lunch, we will eat it together, and we will hope that Samia for once comes through and shows up.”

You leave the room before you can combust. You stand in the hall, searching through your phone for somewhere nearby, or somewhere to order from. You fight to keep from shaking as you read the screen; get yourself together.

👜

Your vacation is a quickly fading memory as you fall back into the city life. You make several calls around in search of an appropriate homecare worker for your mother. Amid that, you return to office and work on your own to catch up. Halton is away but you’ll let him enjoy the last of his days off.

Between all that, you are faced with the daunting sight of an unexpected delivery. The clear glass box with the bouquet of pure white roses. It’s all very elaborate and exhausting. You flick back the silver clasp and lift the lid. Inside is a crystal rose on a golden stem, a date etched into the metal.

It’s an invite to your sister’s wedding and you are unsurprised by the tackiness of the overdone gesture. Beneath the ornament you would rather smash to bits, is a triarch that folds out to reveal the details and how to RSVP. You roll your eyes and blow out a breath.

A vineyard. Suiting. You replace the pieces in the box and leave the bouquet where it is. You type in the venue to Google. You nearly choke. Brick and Blossom Vino recently acquired by Stark Industries. How convenient.

It’s no coincidence. Stark has no business in wine or vineyard or event planning. It is not an advantageous deal, it is a direct statement. He may not be there in your face but he is haunting you nonetheless. Taunting you.

Let him waste his efforts. You will not be affected.

A knock comes at your office door. Another delivery. You sign and accepted the second bouquet. This one small and admittedly aesthetically pleasing. The small wooden box holds a cluster of pink tulips and baby’s breath. There’s a ribbon around it, attached to a simple card. It doesn’t really suggest Stark handiwork.

You take the envelope and unfold it. You smile as you see only the embossed bumps of braille within. Oh.

You take the card to your desk and grab your phone. You pull up Matt’s number and put him on speaker as you wait for an answer.

“Hey,” his voice comes amidst the honking of traffic and shuffle of the street.

“So, uh, how exactly am I supposed to read this card?”

“Ha, well, I could show you,” he offers, “if you’re free for dinner.”

“Hmm, well, I suppose I could clear my schedule,” you hum.

“Wow, really?”

“Sure,” you chew your lip and catch the unusual pinch, unclenching your teeth and clearing your throat, “I could use a drink.”

“Hopefully, this one doesn’t end up in some jerk’s face,” he chortles, “I’ll pick you up.”

[thecluehunt]

welcome to the clue hunt!

how does this thing work?

to join the search for the 39 clues you will need to concoct a serum that will make you(r branch) all-powerful and set for world domination. follow this blog and/or like this post to register:)

this is an online clue hunt based on tumblr inspired by the 39 clues series. you do not have to have read the series to participate, although it might be more fun if you have!

a list of 39 elements, each with an associated number to account for its quantity in the final serum, has been determined and will soon be circulated across the threads of the interwebs. the goal of this clue hunt will be to collect all of these clues for your branch!

there will be four branches the participants will be loosely divided into based on their interests (will elaborate on this in a bit). the lucians (red, the cunning branch, think codes and logic and conniving), the ekaterinas (yellow, the stem branch), the tomas (blue, the athletic branch, which in the context of this clue hunt translates to gamers/shit that requires good motor skills) and the janus (green, the artistic branch)

each participant will be given a few clues at the start of the game. you will randomly be alloted into branches UNLESS you send an ask to this blog with a preferred branch. to make sure each branch has more or less equal numbers, asking for a specific branch will mean you will be given less clues than other participants at the start of the game (i.e. there is an advantage to random branch assignment).

you will be told your final branch privately and will not be revealed the branches of any other participants.

you will be required to hide the few clues given to you across the interwebs (there won't be many clues don't worry) in internet trails, using codes, links, metaphors, required tasks you need to complete to attain the clue, etc etc. this will largely be up to you and you will be allowed to use your creative license - but you will have to send your trail to this blog to make sure it is workable and not too vague lol. i will edit/fine tune everything and if you can't think of anything i will make a trail for you

if you pick your own branch, you will be required to incorporate the core values of your branch into your trails. so for the janus this means hiding clues in art, for lucians this means codes and cryptography related things maybe, etc etc.

write your tumblr url somewhere near where you leave the clue so people know you left it there!

a map will be provided with the location of each clue around the world, colour coded. so for example, myrrh, a clue from the original series, is an ekaterina clue native to north africa. so, a yellow dot representing myrrh will be marked in this region. this can be used to find out what branches other members are in. for example, if you find out a fellow participant hid the clue myrrh, you can deduce they are from the ekaterina branch because there is a yellow dot in the region it's from. if you are also an ekat, this means you can trust them with your clues because you're on the same team:)

a certain number of clues will not be given to any participants and will be withheld as madrigal clues. these will be hidden by me:)

you can recruit members who haven't registered to help you with your hunt well into the game! however, you need to have registered at the beginning (i.e. be following this blog and like this post) to receive your own clues

any/all forms of cheating and backstabbing will be allowed (for everyone except me/the madrigals that is):D

to help with organizing if you don't want to participate, you can join the madrigals! we are a neutral team who cannot by definition win and are just having fun organizing all this lol

more details including duration, prizes, etc will be shared/updated later!

happy hunting!

tagging people who interacted with my post about this: @the39cluesian @iankabra @yakalll @angelkat-x @icamebackfromnarnia @39addict101 @manicpixiess @bilhert @mediodedios @toiletpotato @39starrygurl @gaslighting69 @nimonaaaa @dinatela @amianislovely @fandom-oracle @sarasanddollar @carpe-astrae @ghost-in-a-cup @cosmo-babe @kadalakari

[thenaturalfriends]

Random s17 e01 thoughts

K so I did not wait until tomorrow like a good boy after all. Spoilers.

What an excellent opening, with Greg calling himself a sassy queen and then a perfectly silly prize task. Joanne was robbed. I died laughing at John's.

The house is GORGEOUS and I want to catalogue ALL THE THINGS in it.

First impressions:

Joanne: immediately adore her and her big, big energy that always seems on the verge of spilling over into chaos.

John: I've been bingeing John content in preparation and got exactly what I expected from him. Early favourite from me to win the series and also to be People's Champion of my Heart.

Nick: what a hilarious little hobbit of a man. So quick and sweet and with great timing.

Sophie: a mess and a fun mess. Immediately and clearly out of the running.

Steve: I hate him (affectionate?). He's too polished and overdoes everything. I am a super cheerful fan and I love everyone always. I have only actively disliked one (1) contestant in 17 series (Bridget Christie). Steve might be the second. We'll see if he grows on me and if I get less annoyed by the relentless smug dad jokes.

The egg task had me literally gasping in suspense at Nick's attempt. Steve losing at the last minute made me warm up to him just slightly.

The painting task was bizarre and fun. I'm disappointed the teams seem so happy together... so far. I wish we had been told the answers to the questions: shortest wiki, most followers, etc. Like that Alex managed to work his good buddy John's biggest career accomplishment into a task.

The gorilla task was fun, what a shame three of them were just actually good at it. Whichever Andy is the director clearly had piles of fun flexing with artsy shots from the location tasks. What a pretty episode.

The live task! YES! Is this the first one they've stolen from Taskmaster Australia? I know they poach from NZ. Loved this on TM AU, loved it again here. Loved John deliberately not committing to a body shape off the bat--him being immediately strategic about it bodes well for him in the series, I think. Also when Alex yelled at them to put their markers down John shot him A LOOK that was so funny.

I'm glad to have seen this today so tomorrow I can just obsess about the Lucy & Sam pod.

[inquisitorius-sin-bin]

Inquisitorius-Sin-Bin's Fic Masterlist

AO3: AramsayiPregius

Grand Inquisitor x Reader Fics:

Comparative Anatomy: 4,001 Words, Rated E

Unravelling the evolutionary history of humanoid species across the galaxy has long been your passion, but a particular species has become of great interest to you. Perhaps it is the unique glimpse into the biology of an ancient, long-extinct species that they offer. Or, as the Grand Inquisitor suggests - maybe something more basal within you motivates your research. You're going to need to revise all those papers you've written after this encounter...

Whiskey and Teeth: 5,192 Words, Rated E

The Devil-Man at the bar told you not to do it, too bad you never listen. Your reckless ways are going to catch up with you one of these days, and you're going to find out the hard way - the Grand Inquisitor always gets the job done.

Blowing Cover: 7,341 Words, Rated E

You've always wanted to see the galaxy, and your line of work gets it done. Not the career you ostensibly hold, but the contract work you perform for the Imperial Security Bureau.

This latest assignment is a trickier task than the rest. Untangling an entire network takes more time and finesse than you're used to. When your updates begin to falter, you're due a visit from an unhappy employer.

The price of failure is higher than you're willing to pay, but then again, you are very good at what you do.

Canto Bites: 8,826 Words, Rated E

You never forgot the names and faces of the Jedi family that you lost. Each day you live on, making it your mission in life to avenge your fallen brethren. Tonight you have a spectacular plot in the works, with your prized stallion at the very center of it. Everything is going according to plan, until an unexpected arrival turns into a deeply intimate encounter. How far are you willing to go for one more moment with someone that you've loved and lost? Even if you know the atrocities they've committed against your own kind...

Studied and Praised + Sequel Explored and Worshiped: 32,789 Words, Rated E

You've spent your entire life as the most overlooked member of the royal family, but you have plans to change that. Once your designs have been realized, you will truly be the heir to your father's Empire. There is only one obstacle standing in your way. Surely you won't allow him to become your undoing, or will you?

Sentimental (Ongoing): 6,806 Words, Rated E

Even those left at the Jedi Temple can feel the heavy cost of the Clone Wars. Fear, loss, uncertainty- although the Order has methods for dealing with such emotions, anxiety has you analyzing your surroundings, constantly on the lookout for the next threat.

A seemingly innocuous action becomes an obsession. Seeking guidance, you are drawn to the chambers of your old Master. Attachment is not the Jedi way, but could it be the Force itself guiding you along this path?

One Temple Guard might be able to lend you an answer.

Ride or Die + Sequel Fly or Fall + Appendix (Ongoing): 248,403 Words, Rated E

It has been seventeen years since your rebirth on the plains of Utapau. An orphaned child with nowhere else to go, you were adopted by your clan leader Drago and his mate Bolen, who made you their own daughter through the unique tattooing rituals of the surface-dwelling Pau'an.

Now you lead a group of your kin to trade with a neighboring clan, when you come across a lone stranger riding across the grasslands. Nothing about him makes sense, least of all the marks he bears on his forehead in conflict with the symbols he carries on his shoulders.

You must guide him on his mission, while you ponder the secrets of his past that might just align with yours, and balance the survival of your small clan amongst two powerful opposing forces.

Other Fics:

Dr. Victre: 14,200 Words, Rated T

Unfinished series published back in 2016/2017, back when there were only 4 canon inquisitors. The lore is severely out-of-date, so if this series is continued, it will be a reboot. But! I have heard from others that the work has merit, so I will continue to keep it linked here.