#considering it dragged me kicking and screaming back into writing fanfic

[jarfishy]

and in the sea that's painted black creatures lurk below the deck but you're a king and I'm a lionheart and as the world comes to an end I'll be here to hold your hand 'cause --

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #this song has been stuck in my head for these two meatheads specifically for weeks #so here we go #have.... whatever this is #the first graphic i've made in forever #figures ted lasso would be the thing that got me back into graphic making #considering it dragged me kicking and screaming back into writing fanfic #picspam

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyncien part 4

TW: Mentions of SA, violence, and dark thematic elements. This is not any worse than acosf, so if you read that and I’m assuming you did if you’re a gwynriel fan haha, then this fanfic probably won’t bother you.

There will be one more part after this and it’s partially written, so hopefully it’ll be up soon. Thank you for all the support I have received over this. It really motivates me to keep writing.

"Do you see the male with the long dark hair, blue jacket?" Lucien pointed to a window in a tavern. Gwyn followed his line of sight before nodding. "That was the general of the raid. He left soon after the cauldron leg had been retrieved. He still managed to enjoy himself according to rumors, but he left before Azriel even got there."

Gwyn was unsure how Lucien came across this intel. Part of her wanted to question him, but did not think it was appropriate given that she was planning to kill that male nonetheless. She was unsure if she could recognize him or not given the distance. She figured she would not be able to though. Azriel killed all the men directly involved in her trauma, but there were many young priestesses there that day and many of them shared the same fate as her. Some of those soldiers had escaped Azriel's fury. Gwyn made a promise to herself that they would not escape hers. She shifted her stance so that she was kneeling instead of crouching. Leaves rustled under her which earned a cringe from Lucien. They were currently spying on the Hybern general from a forested hill. Apparently, the male frequented this tavern enough for Lucien to find him. Gwyn questioned whether he was solely Tamlin's emissary or if he did a variety of work. He was much better at spying than she initially figured.

"Do you want me to handle this one?" He asked warily. He knew why Gwyn wanted to do this, but he also understood if she would not be able to follow through.

"No." She shook her head while whispering. "I need to do it."

They continued to watch inside the tavern. The male was drinking quite a bit and was being a bit obnoxious from what Gwyn could tell.

"It's time." Lucien interrupted her careful observations. She looked towards him curiously. "At this time every Friday night, he steps outside to smoke his pipe. Supposedly, his wife finds the smell horrendous and requires that he step outside for it. You will be able to catch him alone if you wait by that back door in the alley." She followed his finger to find it pointing at a door to the side of the tavern. She shuddered a little at the fact that this male had a wife. Gwyn wondered if she knew what type of man she had married. She hesitated.

"What if this goes poorly, Lucien? I cannot live through Sangravah again." She sounded desperate and she knew it. Gwyn wanted affirmation that she would never be powerless again.

"It won't." He reminded her. "But I will be watching from here the entire time. I will not allow anything bad to happen. First sign of trouble and I will be by your side before you can blink." He grabbed her hand from where he knelt beside her and squeezed. She looked into his eyes and her nerves began to fall away. That one russet eye, so similar to Catrin's, put her at ease. "Hurry. Or you will miss your chance." He let go of her hand.

Before she left, she placed her invoking stone on her head at Lucien's insistence. It would give her an advantage and she would take all that she could get right now. She started to utter a prayer. It was one that she read in a random book about the rules and rituals of warriors from different cultures. This one originated from the Illyrians.

"For the honor and glory of the Mother, for the safety and freedom of my kingdom, and for the respect and love of my family."

She stood up and slowly began to descend the hill as quietly as possible. It was difficult considering the leaves were still brittle from the cold. She pulled her cloak tighter around her as the icy wind whipped around. Soon enough she was near the door. She plastered herself to the wall, concealing herself in the shadows. It made her miss her mate and his shadows. She remained quiet as the male loudly stumbled out. She spent a few moments observing him. He was tall and physically imposing, similar to Cassian in that way. Gwyn knew that was the only similarity the two males shared though. His hair was longer than hers and tied back out of his face. Sweat collected on his face as he pulled out his pipe.

"Do you remember me?" It was all Gwyn could muster, but it startled the man. He looked towards the shadows she was hiding in. She certainly did not recognize him. There was so much chaos during the raid that her memory only had room to process so much. She was glad she could not remember anything more, could not remember what this specific man did.

"I dunno darling. I can't see you." The disgusting smirk on his face made her decision easier.

He was handsome that much she could tell. It made her feel so much worse for some reason. Perhaps she wished his outsides matched his insides. She quietly pulled her hood down while she stepped into the light, making eye contact with the male. His eyes hardened as they caught on her invoking stone and his stance was no longer relaxed. It was all Gwyn needed to know that Lucien's intel was good. She thought she might feel more fear or maybe more overwhelming anxiety. It was the typical response she had around harmless men, so she expected to feel it even more so now. However, all she felt was disgust. Looking at this male made her skin crawl. She wondered how long his list of unconsenting females was. Her grip tightened on silver majesty as her resolve hardened.

"Came back for round two?" He sneered as he lit his pipe. Clearly deciding she was no threat.

"Actually, I need your help with a decision." She should not toy with him this way, but his comment grated her just enough. She took a step toward him, waiting for the anxiety to bloom. When it did not, she cocked her head to the side as if she was analyzing him. He looked at her in expectation, but did not verbally respond.

"I was planning on killing you tonight. I think it might be more torturous for you though if I let you live without a certain appendage. Thoughts?" She lifted a singular eyebrow while a smirk played at her lips. Her face may have looked amused, but she did not feel that way. Truthfully, she wanted this over with. The statement did not have the desired effect, however. The male began to laugh so deeply that he was bent over, his pipe forgotten. The profuse arrogance provoked her into action.

Before he could react, she slammed her dagger into the side of his thigh- just barely missing an important artery. His scream of pain should not have brought her joy. Gwyn was aware that it was wrong to find pleasure in anyone's pain. This was different though. Her rage began to consume her, engulf her. Suddenly, she was back in Sangravah. She was not helpless this time, though. She could stop this male. She could stop all the males. A sharp pain to her temple brought her back from her flashback. The male had recovered and slapped her away from him. Unfortunately, her dagger was still lodged in his thigh.

"Fucking bitch." Is all he muttered as he launched himself at her.

He mistook her for a meek priestess who shied away from any negative emotion. She would never be that priestess again. Instead, she allowed her anger to consume her. She ducked under his arms and quickly turned around, kicking him in the back in the process. He was slow, poorly trained even for a general, and drunk. Gwyn would continue to toy with him even if it was just to satisfy some sick need for revenge. This death would not be quick for him. He stumbled back to his feet as he ripped her dagger from his thigh. He wiped blood from his nose from crashing into the building face first and waited for Gwyn to make the next move. She could be patient though.

"You never answered. Which do you prefer? Your life or your cock?" That vulgar word had never left her mouth before but she refused to give that away with a blush. He managed a smirk.

"You tell me. Would you prefer your life or my cock? Cause that's the only way you will be leaving here alive."

She saw red. It was like her body went on auto-pilot. She knew what she was doing, but there was no way to stop. She hurled herself at him, knocking her dagger out of his hand. She sent her knee to his crotch which he managed to block somewhat. He still let out a groan. With his face closer in range, she jammed her thumbs into his eyes. Before she could do too much damage though, he was shoving her away. She fell to the ground, but quickly propelled herself back to him. He did not even have time to recover before she was back and this time with her dagger. She shoved Silver Majesty through the center of his palm. His screams and groans were powering her to continue. He deserved this she found herself repeating like a mantra in her head. He caught her off guard with a strong kick to the ribs, but after the initial surprise she was swinging her dagger back at him. Luckily for him, he managed to dodge her swing that was headed for his eye. He grabbed her by her cloak and dragged her to him from behind. His arm wound itself around her neck. She was struggling to breath which is when she slammed the dagger that was still in her hand that lay unguarded by her side into his crotch. He immediately pulled away to grab himself. As he hunched over, sending explicit curse after explicit curse her way, she took a few lungfuls of air. Blood poured from his crotch so she knew she hit her mark. He fell to his knees and continued to scream. Gwyn, suddenly, remembered where she was. Why was no one rushing out to help him? His screams were loud enough for all to hear in the Tavern. Perhaps even his loved ones knew he deserved this. She approached him, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. She put her dagger to his neck and before she could drag it across, he began to splutter excuses.

"Wait, wait! You can take it. Cut it off, burn it if you must, but I want to live." He pleaded. She turned up her nose in disgust. He had no honor and no shame.

"Sorry. Offer expired." And then she slit his throat. Pulling her hood up and cleaning off her dagger, she quietly trekked her way back to Lucien- attempting to remain unseen.

She thought she might feel sad or anxious or upset with herself. She had killed before- in the blood rite. That had been in the name of self-defense, though. This time she committed pre-meditated murder against a seemingly helpless male, although she knew better. She should be ashamed with herself, but if she was being honest, she felt powerful. She knew that no man would ever have that power and control over her again and this very moment proved that. She could not stop the sly smile that lifted the edges of her mouth. She was a force to be reckoned with and she would let every Hybern soldier involved in that raid know it.

***

Gwyn slid her dagger across his throat once more. Blood poured out and the limp body fell with a thud. Gwyn had been chasing the high of her first kill, but with each new fallen Hybern soldier, Gwyn felt further and further from control. Logically, she knew they deserved to die. She just no longer felt the power she originally possessed after her first kill. She had felt liberated, now she felt trapped by her revenge. It seemed to be an endless cycle. This was only the third Hybern soldier, but Gwyn did not know if she should continue. It felt like a betrayal to the other priestesses from Sangravah. She did not know if this would ever stop otherwise though. There would always be some vile male who deserved death and some beaten female who deserved to be avenged. Gwyn wiped her blade clean on the male's jacket and adjusted her invoking stone that had been knocked askew in the struggle before walking away. She lifted her hood to hide her face as she quietly slipped off to where Lucien was waiting. To his credit, he offered to kill the soldiers himself. The idea became more and more appealing as Gwyn's emotions sucked the life out of her.

"You okay?” Lucien asked once the priestess began to approach him. She pulled her hood away and simply nodded, quietly grabbing his arm. It was her subtle way of tell him she was ready to leave. After one long look, Lucien winnowed them back. Instead of the castle though, they were at a lake. It was beautiful, but definitely presided in the spring court. Gwyn sent a surprised look to the male.

“Should we be here?”

“I have no doubt that you single handedly could take on Tamlin.” Lucien responded with a sly smile. It broke some of the tension hanging in Gwyn’s mind. She plopped down at the edge of the lake to shimmy her boots off. Lucien followed suit and then they were sitting side by side with their feet in the lake. It was beautiful. It made her wish Catrin could see it.

“What troubles you, granddaughter?” He was trying to make her laugh and it worked. A small chuckle left her throat before a heavy sigh. She grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“I thought this might take back some of the control I lost, but it just makes me feel...” she took such a long pause that Lucien had to nudge her to continue. “Like they have won. It is just another part of me they control. As long as I am controlled by the need for revenge, I am controlled by them. Do you know what I mean?” She looked at him to find any sort of understanding in his eyes. He did understand- more than she could ever know. He had also been controlled by his need for revenge at one point in his life.

“I can finish it for you. Just say the word.” He would do it for her because he wanted to. He wanted to protect her when he failed so spectacularly in the past.

“I thought I could not travel a world, escape the library, if men like those Hybern soldiers existed. But those men will always exist. I think I need to accept that rather than killing my way through the problem.” She swished her feet back and forth through the water. The truth is, she was able to leave the library even with those men existing. Lucien had shown her a great many things, including this lake, that made her want to see the whole world despite her fears. Perhaps that was the best revenge anyways.

“Whatever you decide, I will support you no matter what.” He rested his head on her shoulder, drinking up the scene before they would inevitably have to leave again. He had not been here since his time with Feyre and Tamlin, and the experience was bitter sweet. It was beautiful though, and he knew Gwyn would love it.

“Thank you, Lucien.”

***

Azriel had been putting off this conversation for the last 500 years and did not particularly want to bring it up now, but enough is enough. He needed to move on with his life. He did not think he would be able to until this conversation was finished. He eventually found the beautiful blonde immersed in conversation with Emerie at the House of Wind library. A clear of his throat caught both of their attention.

“Hi Az.” Emerie gave a slight smile which he returned before looking at Mor. She looked beautiful in a revealing red dress and curled hair. He wondered where she might be going tonight to be so dressed up. Especially considering Emerie was still wearing her training leathers. Clearly, they did not have plans together for tonight.

"Mor, can we talk?" He turned his slight smile to her. She gave him a brilliant smile back. It did not seem to have the same effect on him as it once did though.

"Of course! I feel like I have not seen you at all recently." She gave Emerie a hug before walking past the Shadowsinger and into the kitchen for more privacy. It was not nearly the amount of privacy he wanted for this conversation, but he would make do. His shadows used this time to abandon him when more than anything he wanted their comfort.

"Why?" Was all he could muster. His cheeks already turning a slight pink. He leaned onto his forearms using the counter from the island for support. Mor stood on the opposite side of the island. She crossed her arms over her chest a bit defensively.

"Why what?" She asked with a frown.

"Why won't you give me a chance? There are times when you seem interested and then there are times when you seem interested in Cassian." He explained further. The look on Mor’s face told him that she wanted this conversation to happen as much as he did. They had avoided it long enough though.

"Az..." she began with a long sigh but trailed off. She refused to look at him now, choosing to stare at the floor instead.

"What?" He did not think it was an unfair question to ask, but apparently she did.

"I don't want to talk about this."

"That's not fair. If there's a real chance for us I want to know. But if you just like having two Illyrians attention rather than just one I'd rather you leave me out of it." It was harsh and a low blow. That did not make it less true. Sometimes he felt that the reason she refused to turn him down outwardly was because she liked the attention. Or she liked having someone stand up for her against Rhysand when he did something she did not like. Azriel was growing tired of their current situation. It needed to change before he started to resent her for it.

"That's not fair either, Az! You're my friend. I don't owe you a relationship." She yelled in outrage. She finally looked up at him and he could see the rage burning there. Guilt began to claw at him.

"You are right, you don't. But you know my feelings on the matter and you continue to lead me on. Or maybe you're confused too. I don't know but that's why I want to talk this through. Just tell me what you're thinking." A long pause ensued after that. The fire burning in her eyes slowly eased away. She moved to sit on top of the island next to him with his stance unchanging.

"Technically, there could be a chance for us. I just don't want to take it. Our friendship means too much to me and..." she muttered while trailing off. Now he was definitely confused. Why wouldn’t she want to take the chance? What was so wrong with him that stopped her from wanting to try a relationship?

"And?" He pushed her to explain further.

"And I think I prefer females. That's why I don't want to take a chance on this. It'll only end badly."

"Oh." He stood up and looked Mor over throughly. She was not dressed up for some party tonight he finally realized. She was trying to impress Emerie. And suddenly, he felt very stupid. He also felt a bit of relief. All this time he was trying to discover what he lacked for her to pass him over for Cassian- what he needed to change to be good enough. Nothing, apparently, given that he could not magically turn into a female.

"Oh?" She gave him a cautious look as though he was some rabid animal who might bite. He realized why she could never have been his mate in that moment. Gwyn had never given Azriel that look.

"Yeah I wish you would have told me sooner. All this time I thought you couldn't decide between Cassian and me." He explained. He could have saved himself so much torment if only he had known. Not that he was blaming her. He was truly blaming himself. He is the spymaster after all, how could he have missed all the stolen glances and longing looks Mor always sent to the females at Rita’s.

"Oh." She repeated what Az had said earlier. She was suddenly very interested in examining her nails.

"Yeah. I am sorry if it seemed that I do not value your friendship. I genuinely thought there was a chance here." He tugged at her chin to make her look at him. He wanted her to see how genuine he was. Mor was one of his oldest friends and he would not let this ruin that.

"I'm sorry I lead you on. If I'm honest, it was partly on purpose. If I keep enough men flaunting after me, It leaves less questions from busybodies." She gave him a sheepish look. Hearing that did not upset him as he thought it might.

"I would do anything to protect you, including lying about a relationship if that's what it took." He would do it now even. It would mean he could not be with Gwyn in the way that he wanted, but he would protect Mor from her father until the end of time.

"I do love you Az. Just perhaps not in the same way." She grabbed his face to look at hers as she said it. He wished she would grab his hands. He let out a long sigh before pulling his face away.

"I love you Mor, but I don't think it's in that way anymore either." She gave him a questioning look that he only shrugged away, moving across the kitchen to put some space between them. He was starting to feel overwhelmed with this heart-to-heart without the comfort of his shadows.

"Really?" She gave him a look that said she did not quite believe him.

"Yeah. I always imagined this moment to be heartbreaking and instead I just feel relieved. Like I finally have the answer to life's question." It was true too. He thought he would never be able to love someone as he had Mor. He realized now that those feelings had been rather superficial. A fantasy he created in his head that felt safe.

"Probably helps that you are mated." She surprised him with that response. He lifted a singular eyebrow as she played with one of the bracelets on her wrist.

"Yes, Az. We all know." She rolled her eyes at this. "But you almost ruined the night courts reputation, risking Lucien's demand of a blood duel, so we figured we might as well let the Elain thing play out on its own." He scoffed at her terrible summary of his actions these past few months.

"I could have used your advice." He replied sarcastically. A single shadow curled around his ear before spotting Mor and disappearing once again. It made him sigh.

"You wouldn't have listened." She insisted. Part of him understood why his family allowed him to hide from his feelings. He was stubborn after all. Sometimes he wished they would push a little harder though. The way that Nesta did. It was why he let her get away with her comments about Rhys- she tried harder with him than any of them did including the high lord.

"I listened to Nesta's." He had already decided that Elain and him could not continue what they were doing after his kiss with Gwyn, but Nesta’s words helped him. Immediately after that conversation he went to talk to Elain, who surprisingly felt the same way.

"Yeah well Nesta and you are two sides of the same coin. Of course you listened to her." He rolled his eyes at that.

"Should I be offended?"

"Yes." They both chuckled. It was quiet for a minute or two before Az spoke up again.

"Thanks for telling me." She nodded before heading back to the library. Azriel finally let out a breathe. His chest no longer tighter with tension. He felt much freer than he had in these past few weeks. It was time to get his girl back.

#gwyncien #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #lucien vanserra #acotar #acosf #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian

[kkeidawrites]

Lost Light

Whew, let me tell y'all writing this one shot was killing me...having to re-watch and relive the experience from this made me have a broken heart again like all those years ago. But, here we are.

Loki Laufeyson x black!reader

Disclaimer: The story you are about to read is full of spoilers from the Avengers: Infinity War movie, I do not own any of the quotes or the gifs that are displayed on this fanfic, that all belongs to Disney, Marvel Studios which is a subsidiary of Walt Disney Studios and its proper companies and I would suggest you not read this if you have not seen the movie yet. This story is both fictional and all the characters that are mentioned are all my personal, made up ocs that I wanted to share. So, just you know, prepare yourselves. Thank you.

The stench.

The falling ash.

The haunting distress call, pleading for any help that was close by, didn't reach a willing ear.

Pieces of the ship, that once held all of the surviving members of Asgard, were scattered astray and skewed in space.

Asgardians young and old littered the remaining floating, functioning part of the ship, dead and being stabbed again by the ones who created the carnage to ensure they stayed dead.

Mawu watched helplessly as Thor laid on the bay of the ship, defeated and critically wounded, his breathing was becoming labored but the Moon Goddess couldn't do anything as she was restrained by the large behemoth that had its foot on her back.

They had fought valiantly and fearlessly, but in the end it didn't matter, Thanos had took them down without breaking a sweat. His lackeys went to work to kill the rest of the innocent Asgardians, claiming he was doing them a favor.

"Your people are nothing now...you have no world to occupy." he had said after he broke our spirits. He spoke to us like we were his captured kill from a glorious hunt.

"Your people are powerless, tired, it would be best to end your suffering."

"I know what it's like to lose," the titan turns his back to stare at Loki who shifted his gaze from his wife back to Thanos. The last thing he needed was the titan to know that he was a married man and Loki refused to allow anymore harm come to her.

He had done so in the past and he vowed to protect her since then. Mawu watched powerless as the feeling of the creature's foot pressed a bit more on her back, making Mawu grunt in pain.

"Feels so desperately that you are right, yet to fail none the less."

Thanos approaches Thor and picks him up by the neck dragging him over to Loki's stiff form.

"Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you to what end? Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. Now it's here, should I say 'I am..'"

Thor makes a clipped comment and Loki quickly gazes at his brother fearfully then back to the menacing titan's glare.

"The Tesseract or your brother's head." His large fist began to squeeze the new king's head.

"I assume you have a preference?" Thanos asked smug.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." Loki's statement lifts the titan's chin smugly and Mawu's jaw drops in disbelief; the large brute then takes the power infinity stone and presses it against the side of Thor's head. Thor screams from the immense pain that was coming from the stone and Mawu squirmed under the beast's foot.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Mawu yells as she struggled. More pressure was applied to her back and the Goddess gasps in pain going limp, and had no choice but to listen to the agonizing screams of the king of Asgard. Tears were running down her cheeks, as a sob left her lips.

After all they had been through, Loki would pull something like this. Mawu believed that her husband had changed for the better and here he was allowing this monster to kill his own brother. She struggled to turn her head and out of the corner of her eye she watched her husband. He was looking conflicted to what was happening. Thor let out another excruciating cry of pain and Loki balled his fists at his sides.

"Alright, stop!" Loki yells.

The power stone was removed from his brother's head and Thor panted helplessly at Thano's side. Loki sighs in relief.

"We don't have the Tesseract. It was destroyed on Asgard." Thor wheezes.

Low and behold, Loki materializes the Tesseract in his right hand, raised to Thano's eye and the titan gives a chilling grin.

"You..you really are the worst brother." Thor says and Loki comes closer to Thanos as if to hand over the sacred item to him.

"I assure you brother , the sun will shine on us again." Loki tells him and that makes Thanos chuckle.

"Your optimism is misplaced Asgardian."

"Well for one thing, I'm not Asgardian. And for another, we have a Hulk." Just as he said that, the green gamma fused hero came barreling through and punches Thanos giving Loki enough time to move Thor out of harm's way.

"Let him have his fun." Ebony Maw tells Black Dwarf who moved to help their master.

Mawu was shocked at the quick turn of events and the pressure on her back was lifted long enough for her to roll out from under Black Dwarf and use her cosmic beam emission to blast him away from her. Sending another beam at Corvus Glaive, Mawu floated over to Thanos to help Hulk.

This brought Proxima Midnight attention to Mawu's sudden escape and she steps in Mawu's way to halt her assault. Spins her three-pronged spear to ready her stance. Mawu readies herself and her hands and eyes begin to glow a bright blue color.

"You won't leave here alive." she taunts with a smirk.

"We will see, bitch." Mawu sends beams her way and Proxima dodges them, moving close to unleash swings from her spear. Mawu dodges them and blocks the ones that reached her face.

Hulk began with having the upperhand on Thanos but, the titan quickly unbalanced him and took his down within seconds, hauling his large body over his head then slamming it on the ground of the ship's bay. Hulk lays there defeated and not moving.

Thor comes up behind Thanos and hits him with a lead pipe that bounces off his armor and the titan turns around and pushes him away. Ebony Maw takes this time to use his psychokinesis and trap Thor's body with the iron from the ship.

Mawu manages to scratch Proxima's right cheek and the woman grunts in pain touching her cheek to feel the blue blood running down to her lip. She gives a battlecry and sweeps her spear under Mawu's feet but she was quicker to jump back and uses her right leg to come down and snaps the spear in half.

Proxima uses one end of her spear to throw at the Moon Goddess and Mawu dodges it.

Elbowing her in the face, Mawu is quick to get onto her hands and spin her straightened feet in a kick combo on her face. Proxima dodges the first spin but was hit by the second one, along with an uppercut Mawu sent once she returned to her feet.

.As she stumbles back from the attack, Mawu grabs Proxima by the neck and throws her down into the ground, raising her leg to bring it down on her head as a final blow when she was suddenly grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled away from her opponent. Black Dwarf had grabbed her threw her but, Mawu was stopped by an invisible force.

The Goddess squirmed from the invisible force holding her and turned her head to see Ebony Maw holding her against her will.

She cursed him in her native tongue as she was left floating at his side.

However, the thing Mawu saw was Heimdall as he prayed softly to his ancestors and her eyes widened at what he was doing.

"Forefathers, let the dark magic flow through me one last...time." his soft prayer was heard and the Bifrost was opened and immediately took Hulk away. Thanos approaches Heimdall and grabs Corvus Glaive's double-sided polearm as he looks down at the struggling man.

"That was a mistake." Thanos tells the watchman of the gods and stabs the polearm through his heart. Heimdall stares defiantly at Thanos until his last breath of life left his body and he fell limp against the piece of metal he was propped up against. Thor cries in anguish as he watched his friend die and glares hatefully at the titan.

"You going to die for that." Thor swears to Thanos then his lips are bound when Ebony Maw seals his lips with metal.

Ebony Maw then presents the Tesseract to Thanos, as he kneels before the titan and the purple brute removes his armor, and plucks the cube from his lackey's hand. He crushes it and inside his hand sits the space stone. He places the stone on his gauntlet and hums in pleasure of the new power flowing through him.

Mawu suddenly feels weak and lethargic, her head begins to pound severely. You see, when the space stone is disrupted, it effects those who helped create the universe, Mawu is beginning to lose her powers because, the space stone is what keeps the balance of all the nine realms in harmony. With a dark heart like Thanos, the space stone could easily kill the creator gods of the universe.

"There are two more stones on Earth," Thanos marvels at the stones on his gauntlet, he then turns his attention to his 'children'.

"Find them my children, and bring them to me on Titan." he orders and his 'children' kneel down in front of him in respect.

"Father we will not fail you." Proxima Midnight says. Mawu glares at the woman.

"Karachi ẹnu kẹtẹkẹtẹ bishi (Stupid kissing ass bitch)." Mawu cursed and Proxima gives her a menacing glare as if she understood what the Goddess said.

"If I might interject," Loki makes his appearance and slowly moves closer to Thanos.

"If you are going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have experience in that arena." he gives a dry chuckle.

"If you call failure experience.

"I consider experience, experience."

"Oh mighty Thanos," he grew closer now as he sneakily summoned a knife in his left hand.

"I, Loki, prince of Asgard...Odin's son, the rightful king of the Jotunheim, God of Mischief...do hereby pledge to you..." he gives his wife a look. Just one look to show that he loved her and Mawu's eyes widened. Mawu watched in horror as her husband approached the titan and began shaking her head.

"...my undying infidelity." Loki moves to strike Thanos through the throat but, the space stone possesses his arm to stop him. Loki pants in disbelief and Mawu struggles in her metal bindings, trying desperately to get out to help her husband.

"Loki! Get out of there! Loki!" she screams to her lover, whom even if he wanted to, could not move.

"Undying? You should use your words more carefully." Thanos scolds Loki and pushes back his arm, making the God of Mischief grunt in pain as he was quickly disarmed and Thanos gripped him by the throat. Mawu struggled harder as the titan raised her lover higher to get a better look at him. Loki's choking gargles alerted both her and Thor.

"Let him go you alainiye lori (son of a bitch)! Loki!" Mawu grunts as her metal prison squeezed around her body. She watched pitifully as her husband squirmed in Thano's squeezing grip and her tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Don't...Do not do this! Please don't do this!" she cries as the sound of Loki's bones began rattling.

As he struggled, Loki had the gal to look in Thanos in the eyes as he whimpered out one last statement. "You...will never be...a god." Loki then shifts his wavering gaze to his wife and gave her a painful smile then mouthing his love to her before the crack of his neck resounded in the tense atmosphere.

"Noooooooooooo!" Mawu yells.

Thor's muffled cry of anguish is a haunting one as Thanos brings his dead brother's body over to his bound form, dropping him at his feet.

"No resurrections this time." Thanos taunts. The titan then raises his gauntlet and activates the power stone, all around them what's left of the Statesmen began to explode and Thanos uses the space stone to open a portal and the Black Order leave the blowing up ship.

The metal around Thor disintegrated and he quickly crawled over to Loki's body. He looked over his brother's face and sobs left his lips as he hugged him to his chest.

"Loki..." he whimpers solmenly.

Mawu however, had another agenda, once she was released from the metal prison her eyes had coated over to a dark blue color and her hands glowed a illuminated white color. Her adrenaline was high as hell and so was her anger which gave her more of a boost as she flew up from the Statesmen and aimed her glowing hands at Thanos' ship.

"O gba ọkọ mi, ẹbi mi, lẹhinna o ro pe o kan le sá? Iwọ yoo ku loni, aderubaniyan(You take my husband, my family, and then you think you can just run away? You will die today, monster)! " Mawu beams up her hands and begins throwing concentrated cosmic energy balls at the ship.

Two of the engines on the ship went up in flames, and Mawu flew closer to punch a side of the ship but, her assault was cut short when a canon blasted her away. This gave the ship enough time to portal out of there.

Mawu regained her balance mid-flight and her brows furrowed in anger as she watched the ship disappear through the portal. Her tears returned and her adrenaline wore off, as the Statesmen blew up in a purple flash behind her. Mawu welcomed the force of the blast as her eyes returned to its original brown color.

She simply floated in outer space as the debris of both the ship and deceased Asgardians coasted past her. Mawu's eyes caught Loki's departed form and moved closer to him, grabbing his cold hand and pulling him to her chest. Mawu cried in his chest as she wrapped his arms around her body, wanting to once again feel his loving embrace.

The moon has a dark side and it has a bright side but, with how her emotions played out, the moon has been cased in a dark grey hue that stirs the gravity on the Earth.

Mawu didn't care about any of that right now...her husband was dead, her heart has been torn in two, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Mawu's eyes filmed over a grey color and she fell limply against her deceased husband's chest as her body shut down into a vegetative state.

The light was lost from the moon that day and the end of the universe was closer.

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I hope you all had a good cry like I did when I wrote this story. This had been sitting in my brain for weeks, yall. WEEKS. And I finally sat my ass down and wrote it. So, enjoy, like, comment and reblog. Also make sure to head over to my inbox for any requests. Peace y'all.

#black reader #black oc #mawu oc #loki x black!reader #loki laufeyson #fanfiction #black fanfiction #my writing #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x black!reader #marvel #marvel x oc

[marchlione]

rant

started rewatching naruto and ohhhhhhh boy.....

people who call naruto ‘sunshine boy’, like i get that different strokes for different folks but, naruto is straight up annoying. i can excuse 12 year old naruto for being annoying, he’s 12. i hate all the 12 year olds, even sasuke who is my favourite character. like wtf stop being a little shit for two seconds and cut back on your ego. sasuke has no business being that prideful, and he needs to be cut down a little. but he’s 12. again, sakura, i’m a girl too, i was not that insanely boy crazy at 12, stfu and sit down, you’re a child.  

but even at 16 when you’re supposed to be slightly less annoying, naruto managed to get worse. i just want to gag him. sakura gets slightly more bearable when sasuke isn’t around, but i still don’t care for her. and this curse of hatred is such bull shit. like imagine taking an entire ethnic group and telling them, yeah you’re all insane and messed up people. like that’s fucked. can we think of real world examples of this? :)

so anyway, i turn to fanfic because that should make it better. no. the only thing worse than naruto canon is its fandom. good god. if i see one more ‘good uchiha sasuke’ tag where sasuke ‘lets go of all those silly notions about honouring his family because they’re dead and don’t matter anymore’, i will lose it. like do you people not understand what honour and family honour is and what it means? and then we talk about how vengeance is bad but really. how do you expect sasuke to act. “i know that the brother i loved and idolized so much went and murdered everyone that i have known and massacred my entire ethnic group on orders of a military dictatorship that profits off of conflict after years of marginalization and hatred from the village our ancestors helped create because of blood, buuuuuut revenge is bad uwu”. is that what you want??? revenge isn’t good or pretty or right, but you have to admit, sasuke is at least a little bit justified. genocide is considered an awful thing in their world too.

this doesn’t even cover the whole ‘Team 7 family uwu’ thing. they were not a family. they were barely even friends. naruto and sakura eventually became friends, but they weren’t sauke’s. i get being a fan of found family, but this ain’t it. they were a couple of messed up kids who were thrown together for a couple of years at best. sasuke most likely stuck to the uchiha clan kids pre-massacre, and was alone post-massacre. sakura didn’t respect any of sasuke’s boundaries and naruto was obsessed with sasuke. if they really were his friends they would have recognized the horrors that their beloved village had enacted and even if they didn’t help sasuke get revenge, they would have slowly helped him try to heal, instead of trying to kill him when he didn’t fall into line and become another brainless soldier. and naruto most certainly wouldn’t have said that godawful line “i will break all your bones and drag you back to konoha kicking and screaming” if he was sasuke’s friend. that alone should show you how well konoha indoctrinates its soldiers. they took the kid that had largely been abused by the village throughout his childhood and turned him into the model soldier that sprouts the villages propaganda verbatim.

i also don’t understand why fanfic authors feel the need to give sakura a sob story. like the other members of this team are messed up, so we gotta fuck you up so we can have a matched set. i mean you can do that if you can justify it but for the most part, authors write it like they have to give her serious trauma for her to be a strong character or have her become a “BAMF”. you are allowed to have mentally healthy characters, team 7 has suffered enough, give them one sane characters. also you do not need to justify power with trauma, you don’t. trust me. also its ok to not be the most overpowered person in the room. you can be fucked up for no reason, you can be perfectly average and still be valuable. no offence but “uwu sakura queen” won’t make you a feminist, and disliking her doesn’t make me a misogynist. none of the character are written well and least of all the women. kurenai, tenten, sakura, hinata, and karin all had potential. too bad every character was just a representation for one ideology or another with the intention of showing that yes propaganda does work and is effective and repeating something enough times will make it true. after all, we need not look further then the fandom itself. after all, if everyone took the time to peel back the fluff and padding and look at the themes and ideas presented in the story, you’d see how problematic some of the ideas conveyed by canon are. in conclusion i hate everything about canon AND fanon

#naruto #sasuke #pro sasuke #pro uchiha #sakura does not need to be op #nor does she need trauma #she can be a great character even without those #if all of them are similarly fucked up no one will get anywhere #naruto is obsessed #sakura is a femcel in canon #you need to realize that stanning a woman doesn't make you a feminist #and disliking sakura doesn't make me a misogynist #if you think im being biased #maybe i am #but here's the tea #almost all of the naruto characters are so poorly written #and the girls most of all #for gods sake let sakura be friends with tenten #that would be fun #sakura has anger issues (and no she doesn't need a reason to have them) #and tenten has pointy things #they'd make a great team #and while sasuke is my favourite character #he is also annoying #your clan is dead #its not the vengeance you need to get rid of #its the stick up your ass and the gigantic ego #he should have been a lot more desperate #he should have been more hungry #stop throwing kunai at a tree and start being useful

[bestworstcase]

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show. 

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever. 

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that. 

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down: 

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor. 

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty. 

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back. 

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put. 

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time. 

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest. 

he stays calm. 

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him. 

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics. 

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves. 

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now. 

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points: 

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger. 

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm. 

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not. 

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them. 

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself. 

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening. 

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment. 

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own. 

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show. 

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

#thank u for your input anon <3 #Anonymous

[princeescaluswords]

1/2 Something that stood out to me from your last post was the whole idea that a beta can try to overthrow an alpha if they feel the alpha is no longer worthy, and how that is such a popular fanfic trope for some incomprehensible reason. This despite the fact that the only times we've seen it in canon it was unequivocally a Bad Thing. Marco attacking Deucalion after Gerard's ambush led to Deucalion going insane, Derek killing Peter turned him into the careless, power-obsessed alpha of S2,

2/2 and then Liam attacking Scott was his worst moment on the show. I just don't understand why fans are so keen to glorify it. Oh wait, they're using it against Scott. Now it all makes sense. (Sorry for the long ask, I had to vent.)

Venting is fine!   Considering the show’s been over for three years, most of my posts are about venting my frustration about things that probably mean very little to anyone but me.  Yet, we’re part of a community and that requires communication.  There is no need to apologize.

Your observations are very valid.  Our fandom is remarkably comfortable with the idea of murdering those who don’t believe as they do, even though that is a belief directly opposed by the themes of the show.   I once saw a post saying “we like our werewolves to be bloodthirsty beasts, not poodles who won’t kill.”  I refrained from responding -- “then perhaps you’re watching the wrong show.”   But, unsurprisingly, they do tend to focus this belief on a particular set of characters.

The show made a clear statement that executions and murder do not comprise the path to victory.  Derek’s murder of Peter in Code Breaker (1x12) was the first time the production pointed out “Here is the villain for next season!”  Now, of course, detractors would scream that Scott also wanted to kill Peter, yet I don’t consider him evil.  Scott wasn’t trying to punish Peter or usurp him; he was trying to reclaim his life, even though I truly believe that the cure was a lie that Derek used to get Scott to help him track down the alpha, just like how he hid the fact that he wasn’t the person who bit Scott to get Scott to help him track down Peter.  No matter how this is seen, it doesn’t change the fact that all of the trouble in Season 2 came from revenge killing, whether it was Peter killing Kate or Derek killing Peter.  

And then there was Marco’s assault, which was shown as vile treachery and a bad enough action to push Deucalion into pursuing a blood-soaked vision of the perfect pack.  (It’s really intriguing that the same fans who are willing to give Peter’s butchery a complete pass because he burned with his family will scream about Scott and Derek not executing the Demon Wolf who was ambushed, his pack murdered along with him, and then betrayed. Could it be because Deucalion wasn’t the least bit interested in their self-insert? I think so.) 

And then, of course, there’s Liam.  In this, the fandom and the show unite as one in their sheer embrace of violence as an expression of disapproval.  How many Thiam stories do more than skim past the idea that Liam and Theo worked together to murder Scott?  Theo certainly didn’t do it by himself.   Yet then they turn around and act as if it’s something that Scott, when he sees Liam and Theo canoodling, just has to get over.   After all, if Scott were a better alpha, Liam wouldn’t have had to beat him to death.  (And yes, that’s not a grammatical error.  Liam bears just as much responsibility for that as Theo does.)  

Now, of course, my detractors are going to come back with the fact that I write  Sceo works, and my defense is that, unlike the freaking show, I prioritize Scott’s feelings in this scenario as the victim.  Victims get to say if they forgive their victimizers or not.   The show neglected this by having Liam focus his non-apology entirely on making himself feel better.  (Jeff Davis missed one of the key parts about apologies -- they’re about the person hurt, not the person doing the hurting).  You know why I can say this?  Because while Liam was beating his breast over “I feel like I have to do more than just apologize,” he never once bothered to ask if Scott was, like, feeling okay or not.  He was so fixated on crafting an apology in order to be able to live with himself, he forgot that there was another person involved.

But most of the fandom doesn’t act as if Liam has anything for which he has to apologize.  No matter how obvious the show made it that Liam was being nudged to kill Scott by Theo, the fact that Liam felt Scott was incompetent was enough.  There’s no fan fiction about consequences for Liam’s mistake, no endless supply of opinions about what Liam deserved for believing Theo over Scott.  Compare that with the consequences envisioned for Scott’s mistake in believing that his paranoid, violent, best friend was lying to him right after he caught him in another lie.   

Are you surprised?  You shouldn’t be.  The fandom has long directed violence towards Scott without remorse.   Derek is given a pass for his assault on Scott in Co-Captain (1x10), in Ice-Pick (2x03), and in Venomous (2x05), because Scott ‘deserved’ it, but Scott is condemned to figurative Judecca, the circle of hell for those who betrayed their benefactors, for grabbing him by the neck and forcing him to Bite Gerard -- an act which saved Derek’s life -- and was forced at kanima point.  

So why not double down in fandom content?  If an alpha -- even an eighteen-year-old alpha who was dragged into being both a werewolf and an alpha -- is incompetent, whack him!   (No one argues that Scott should have butchered Derek for his flops, and so many argue that Peter should be an alpha again, even after he repeatedly got his ass kicked by a bunch of teenagers. Liam is going to be a great alpha, especially after he broke Kira’s sword in order to get Theo to tell him that ... hey, Nazis are bad.)  In this fandom, justified violent overthrow is reserved solely for the Latino protagonist/hero.   Derek, Peter, Liam, Stiles can hurt Scott as much as they want, because you know, he deserves it.

But it’s not racism.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf fandom problems #fandom racism #scott mccall defense squad

[joyrose-fandomer]

So, This night I literally dreamed of a Sanders sides AU and I really need to write in down before I forgot.

TW : bullying, accidental self harm, chocking, calling someone ugly and generally mean thinking, voodoo dolls (sorta)

In this dream I was Virgil. A very young Virgil probably still in elementary school

One of his classmates was Roman who was considered as extremely ugly by pretty much everyone (I don't really remember what he look like, all I know is the more the dream was going the less gross and deformed he felt)

I think Roman was getting bullied but I don't know more cause Virgil really wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't even trying a little to see if he was nice or something (It was more a side effects of the childish attitude then anything else actually)

Eventually the summer vacation came and Virgil was in a bus to some sort of summer camp. But it was not a camp, more like a big mansion for children, with an enormous garden and a very high gate, somehow hidden in the back of a park in the middle of the city

On the site in front of him was Roman happily chatting with two other boys. (They where talking about a gift. Wich I guess was offered by Roman to his friends. And Patton's love for plants wish I supposed was one of the two boys. By extension I understood that the third kid in front of Virgil was probably Logan.)

They seemed to know each other as if they came at the mansion every year

When the gate closed behind the bus Virgil's was feeling a beat nervous. It was like he was suddenly trapped in this big mansion and this big garden with all the cooks, cleaners, the one governess and a bunch of unknown kids

Virgil noticed that the governess seemed to particularly like Roman, Patton and Logan. Surely because she already knew them

The governess had those sort of voodoo dolls that she make for each kids (yes it's weird and creepy but it's a dream so let's roll with it)

The dolls were not like "normal" voodoo dolls tho. Instead of inflicting to the person whatever you did to the doll. It was the doll who followed all your movement, like a tiny you.

The dolls where walking and interacting inside in tiny doll house, replica of the mansion

There where also dolls for the governess and her coworkers

She used it like a video surveillance to know where everyone is and what they are doing

The thing is that some of the dolls where more detailed then others and the new kids dolls where just humanlike shapes with their name written on it

So Virgil was very jealous of Roman, Logan and Patton for having a perfectly sculpted doll, like a miniature version of them

At some point he was looking at them will they where next to their dolls, talking to the governess for a long time. Longing to be accepted and loved by the governess too

I think she noticed Virgil's dolls looking at there own dolls from afar but didn't say anything

The time passed and Virgil was feeling very lonely.

Roman did send him some greeting from from time to time but it was just to be polite, they where classmates after all.

He was hanging out ,from time to time, with a boy tho. He was feeling similar to Roman but Virgil was way less grossed out at him and a lot more comfortable. Also they really didn't act the same. Sometimes Virgil was talking with his friend and suddenly he just stood up and despaired somewhere in the mansion only to reappear by the and of the day dragged by some adults because he did some hanky-panky and was punished for the rest of the night. (I quickly understood when I woke up that it could only be Remus)

Wish left Virgil alone most of the time just sleeping in the grass

One time the governess came to him and asked if he thought about Roman's idea (I don't really remember what it was, something like a friendly art project with everyone in the mansion and they all had to bring something)

Virgil answered to the questions with a pun wich made him think of the boy with round glasses and curly hair who was shouting puns all day long. The mental image made Virgil smile a beat, a tiny little smile

The governess was on clue somehow and seemed to appreciate Virgil a lot more after that

Probably later that day they where all gathered in a big room to work on that art project

At some point Virgil was talking, probably asking for something and Roman and Patton asked him to be silent just a moment while they where listening to something

But Virgil had that oppressing feeling that he needed to talk right at this instant and that he woudn't be able stop himself from talking

And there, stupid child brain kick in and everything go down hill

Virgil got a scotch tap and started rolling it around his neck, thinking that if he stop his vocal cord form stringing he wouldn't be able talk

Well he did succeed in a way, but definitely not as indented

At each turn around his neck he was less and less able to breathe to the point where he started turning blue forcing his hand to let go of the tape and going for his neck trying to get it of unable to think properly in his dizziness

One of the kids (probably Logan) bolted out of the room to call an adult at the moment he saw it

Everyone was now looking at him confused while he was going through every shades of blue, struggling to breathe

Once the whole blue spectrum end it's course on a cold white, he collapsed on the floor, under the scream of panic and the traumatize gases of the kids who finally understood the importance of the situation

Luckily, Logan came back with an adult who gasped at the sight of Virgil spasming on the floor and quickly took away the tape from his neck

I don't really know what happened next, all I remember was Virgil back at the mansion, after an understated trip to the hospital, and the adults all worryingly shouting at him. Begging him to never do that again. Virgil was extremely confused, not understanding what happen and why exactly what he did was wrong

And I woke up.

I know it's terrible to end on that and honestly I don't like ending like this. But that's how it is.... I hope my dream wasn't to bad. Do you guys think I should make a fanfic out of it ? Tell me if you do ! 😀

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #dream #brain why? #sanders sides au

[recurring-polynya]

Idk if you have already answered this, but when/how do you think Renji & Rukia *officially* said the big “L” words??

This is a very interesting question to me. First of all, have I already answered this? Well. I have written this scene into three different fanfics, all which take place at very different points in time (once at the beginning of the 2-year timeskip, once in the Royal Realm, and once post-TYBWA), with an additional time Renji slipped it casually and didn’t notice (Rukia did), and once where Rukia shouted that she loved him and all their filthy urchin friends at him. I surely have at least one more in the works, and who am I kidding? I am never going to stop writing variations of this. But this is not a question of when I would have liked them to, it’s when I think they did.

I did write an extensive meta once on when they hooked up, and this is a related, but not-entirely-the-same question.

So, a) of all, I am obviously a fan of slow-burn, and b) between Rukia’s emotional constipation, Renji’s ridiculous patience, and a looming Nii-sama, there’s a real good chance that it took a looooooong time, and if that’s the case, I think the confession was simultaneous with the hooking up. I realize now that when I wrote that, I did not consider at what point in the timeskip they hooked up, but I think it does make a difference. I had never really considered the case where they hook up right away (as in any time between right after the SS arc through the first half of the timeskip), but I think that if they did, it would take forrrrrreeeeeeeevvvverrrrr for them to say it, like, probably TYBWA or maybe after. I have never written this scenario and now I desperately want to, THANKS ANON THIS IS DEFINITELY WHAT I NEEDED IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW. What if Rukia screamed it at Renji’s back while he was dragging Ichigo off to go fight Yhwach? What if they said it all super-casual when Rukia leaves Renji to fight the Luchador guy whose name I refuse to type? MY DING DANG HEART.

Oh, also, even though I kind of hate this trope, I have been kicking around this idea that it’s the end of the timeskip, Byakuya gives Renji some super lame, quarter-ass compliment, and Renji makes the Big Decision: Kuchiki-taichou has Accepted Him, It Is Time. He gets his New Years haori drycleaned, buys an assload of camellias, makes a completely unnecessary reservation at Rukia’s favorite shitty ramen stand, and Rukia’s like, “Hey, babe, do you mind if we postpone a week? I gotta go stick this magic sword in Ichigo” and that is why Renji is so phenomenally weird during the Fullbring arc.

Also, I never got around to addressing the case of: did they hook up in Inuzuri/the Academy? which I will now.

The answer is no.

A headcanon I firmly adhere to is that no one in Inuzuri expresses affection out loud. It’s bad luck. You never, never say it. People die constantly in Inuzuri, and it’s treated as a natural and good thing by people in higher districts-- life is shit there, get back in the resurrection cycle, cowards. To admit that there’s something to hold onto there is a radically optimistic point of view, and I find that very romantic and heartbreaking and is part of why I OTP them.

Now, in my fanfic, these two blessed morons tempted fate by embarking on some horny teen make-outs and stopped abruptly when one of their friends died, but I only did this for fanfic reasons, I do not actually headcanon this. I think that Renji had been in love with Rukia since late Inuzuri days and was aware of it, and his big plan was to CRUSH IT!! at the Academy, land a sweet gig, and then be like, “Rukia, behold, I am the GOAT! I have passed a gazillion tests and beaten up Kira so many times and I have been offered an actual paying job. It’s at the squad with the nerdy glasses captain, but money’s money. Also, I love you, like, so, so much, will you marry me? Please, my crops are dying. I have a character recommendation from my zanjutsu instructor.”

I think at the same time, Rukia loved Renji in a “this guy is literally half of my heart I need him” but not necessarily in a romantic way, the same way she will later come to love the Karakura kids. She went through some really traumatic self-worth times at the academy and definitely could not read whatever insane signals he was giving off. Rukia has a lot of tight control over her emotions, at least as far as denying them, and wouldn’t let herself be in love with him. If he had made it to that insane proposal he had planned, she would have been like “wat” and then punched him in the face.

Did I have a point? I do not remember. Right, when did they drop the L bomb? Probably New Year’s, timeskip year 2.  But really, any time you want.

#renruki #bleach meta #i've been working on a drabble thing where renji actually does spring his Terrible Proposal on Rukia years after the fact #maybe if i'm feeling cute later i'll finish and post it #sorry if this is kinda rambley

[ratsetflummi]

Fanfic idea: literally anything that has Peter dressed to impress and seemingly being all smooth with Juno and Juno feeling severely underdressed and scruffy and sporting five o clock shadow... and then the POV switches and it turns out Nureyev is barely holding on bc Juno actually looks really raggedly handsome according to him and he's 2 seconds away from imploding and the only reason Juno doesn't notice is bc he's just as starstruck by Peter

I can’t believe you made me write two fanfics in three days

Cross posted to AO3, because that’s just what I do

Being a private eye is not as glamorous as people think. Not that there’s a lot of pizzazz associated with it usually. But people tend not to be aware of just how much time you spend in dusty and dirty places, digging through that dirt to find the clues you need to solve a case. 

Luckily Juno’s latest dive into a dumpster had been fruitful. And even more luckily it had been several hours ago, so the smell had mostly worn off, and what was left had gotten covered up with dust and sand and sweat and the client’s perfume that clashed terribly with everything else.

Juno’s coat was still in sore need of a wash. As was the detective.

Another thing people don’t consider is the downtime. 

How the time between cases can drag on for weeks without anything to do.

How sometimes you barely get back to start closing the office when another new face pops in.

It wasn’t a new face, technically.

He’d done a valiant job of changing up his contouring to throw people off at first glance, but it was still undeniably him.

Juno hadn’t seen Nureyev in a while.

There had been the whole ordeal with the mask of course.

A few weeks later Nureyev had been back, with a case Juno couldn’t turn down if he wanted to.

And since then Nureyev had been popping back in every few weeks with information on some new, potentially world ending threat.

Juno had never been able to refuse even once.

They hadn’t kissed again in the time they were working together.

They hadn’t even discussed the first kiss.

Nureyev had never said anything, and Juno was certainly not gonna bring it up. He barely knew what he wanted out of this relationship. Wasn’t sure he wanted anything at all.

They hadn’t talked about it, but Juno had thought about it a lot.

It was always there at the back of his mind, and it usually came to the forefront on the nights when Nureyev was around, right when Juno was trying to fall asleep.

And it especially came to mind right now, with Nureyev casually leaning against Juno’s desk, dressed even more impeccably than usually.

The suit made his chest look broader than usual.

The makeup made him look radiant.

The fit of his black pants made it seem like his legs went on forever.

And the corset made it very hard for Juno to resist running his hands over Nureyev’s waist.

Juno had to step a lot closer to smell the familiar cologne over the smell of his own sweat.

Standing next to Nureyev made Juno all too acutely aware of his own messy hair, the stubble threatening to overtake his face, and every single stain on his coat.

“Another case then? Or are you taking me out to dinner?” He asked, making a show of sweeping his eyes over Nureyev’s clothes.

Nureyev shot him a rueful smile, and Juno was certain that his heart would give out any second now. 

“If only it were so… It is a case. And an urgent one at that. With a time limit.” Nureyev kicked off of the desk and made for the door. “I’ll explain in the car.”

-

It had indeed been urgent, but luckily that meant it was resolved in one evening.

By the end of it Nureyev’s clothes, hair, and makeup were still somehow flawless.

It was unfair, really. That kiss was still on Juno’s mind, and having Nureyev next to him like… well, like this… hot as always and dressed to the nines, Juno was very much tempted to try initiating another one.

But…

Juno was now covered in a fine layer of Martian sand on top of everything else, his hair had become an entire mess, and he couldn’t smell anything other than sweat and dirt.

And while Juno was usually of the mind that cases took precedence and that showers weren’t a priority, he was starting to feel self-conscious from Nureyev’s gaze that he felt on him constantly but never actually saw, with Nureyev politely averting his eyes just in time whenever Juno looked back.

-

Nureyev was aware that he had caught Juno right on the tail end of a three-day case.

He hadn’t given the detective a moment to clean up, and he was paying dearly for it now.

Juno was sporting slightly more than a five o’clock shadow that Nureyev was dying to feel against his skin. His hair was wind-swept, and there were smudges of dirt and blood littered on Juno’s clothes and skin.

Nureyev couldn’t tear his gaze away from him for more than a few moments at a time, and he was sure that the keen eyed detective had picked up on it by now, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

But he found Juno openly looking at one part of him or another as well occasionally, so at least it seemed to be a mutual feeling. 

The problem of looking at Juno too much got resolved when they made it back to the car and Nureyev had to keep his eyes on the road.

But it didn’t make his previous thoughts go away, and it brought another issue or two into the equation.

Juno was riding shotgun, his legs comfortably spread, and every time Nureyev went to change gears, his hand brushed along the detectives thigh, which really should have affected Juno more than Nureyev, but oh well, here they were.

And Juno smelled like sweat and earth, and it made Nureyev all the more aware of Juno’s body in such close proximity.

It took every ounce of willpower in Nureyev not to pull the car over and ravish the detective, tangling his fingers in messy locks, breathing the lady in more deeply, before tasting him again, feeling the stubble scratch against his skin, only on his face at first, but maybe later he’d be amenable to-

Dammit, Nureyev, focus!

-

They’d made it a habit to go back to Juno’s apartment and have a drink after a successful job.

Juno wanted nothing more than to finally take a shower and get into a fresh set of clothes - appreciating Nureyev’s looks in a more proactive manner was a close second - but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask Nureyev to leave.

Juno should have gone to pick up the glasses and a bottle of liquor.

They should have sat down on opposite ends of the sofa, an appropriate distance from each other, and made some easy small talk and lighthearted jokes.

Nureyev should have been on his way soon after.

And that should have been that for the next few weeks.

Juno didn’t go fetch the drinks. Instead he was still busy despairing over Nureyev’s perfect hair and clothes and face, and wondering since when Nureyev thought less of him for the traces his work left on him.

They didn’t sit down and talk. Instead they unconsciously shifted closer, silently taking each other in.

Nureyev didn’t leave. Instead he took the last step into Juno’s personal space, reaching out to tilt Juno’s head up with one hand.

Nureyev hesitated for a moment, searching Juno’s face, which must have screamed a hopeful yes, with only a slight undercurrent of confusion.

He tangled his fingers in Juno’s messy locks, stopping just short of closing the distance, to take a deep breath, before pressing his lips to Juno’s.

Juno had seen it coming a mile away, but he was still taken off guard. And Nureyev used Juno’s surprised gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Juno let himself enjoy the kiss and the hand sliding under his coat and along his back for a moment.

But… That…

When Nureyev had been looking at him the entire evening, was that…

By all accounts, it didn’t make sense.

Juno pulled away from the kiss, to voice his confusion.

“Are you sure you want to be kissing me right now? When I’m such a mess?”

“Juno!” The name came out in a disbelieving laugh, the corners of Nureyev’s mouth curled up. Then his expression changed, like he was looking at something precious. His eyes ran over Juno’s face. “Juno…” It came out as a dreamy sigh this time, before Nureyev leaned back in. “You’re perfect like this.”

#tpp #junoverse #juno steel #peter nureyev #jupeter #chaotic-carnifex

[fairyartlover-writes]

Fanfic: Almost Heaven

OH MY GOD!! IT’S FINALLY HERE! This is the final installment of the It was in April series. I might write some drabbles in this universe, but only if someone asks for them. For now, this is the finale. WARNING: There is some violence at the beginning and major character death, so be prepared for that if you are going through with reading this. Apart from that, I hope you enjoy!

Previous: Hallelujah

Summary: He was going to get his baby girl back, no matter the cost

Raiting: TEEN (violent scenes and death)

Fandom: Loki Fandom

Pairing: Loki/Reader 

It had taken months. Months of endless hunting and interrogating and being apart from the only two people he cared about in the universe. It had taken all his willpower not to break down the moment he was away from them. But he couldn’t. He had to do this for them. If he didn’t do it, then nobody would.

When he had finally managed to find the bastards that had taken their daughter, he had to restrain himself from storming the damn place, with no regards of anything, but he couldn’t do that. Not with his child’s life on the line. He found out that the people that had taken her where the same people that his brother friends where trying to (unsuccessfully) take down. He had considered to call them but thought better of it. They would never trust him, and he didn’t need their assistance, but he had an emergency call button just in case. He hated to admit that he needed it, he was the mighty Loki after all, but he would cast aside his pride if it meant that his child would get back home to their family. For an entire month, he planned every single step that he had to make and every outcome that could happen, he didn’t share his brother’s tactics after all.  He memorized the guards schedule, when they would change shifts, when they would take brakes. He also noticed that they received supplies at the start of every week. He decided to disable one of the guards and take his place. He would then sneak into the building and find his daughter. When he did, he would then use a teletransportation spell and leave the place.  He was going to call his brothers team and leave and anonyms tip of the location of the place so they could take care of the rest, if he left anything standing.

As is life, things didn’t go as planned.

They found him out. It surprised him that they even did in the first place, but he forgot about the thermal cameras and, not for the first time, he cursed his frost giant heritage.

There were a lot of them, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The guards were pathetic in their training and their weapons didn’t even scratch his armour. He fought every single one of them and left none of them alive. They had taken his daughter. He would show no mercy tonight.

He had analysed the compound layout and knew were every single lab, containment cell and coffee pot were. Nothing escaped him. He even knew were the underground labs were, labs that even some of the guards didn’t know existed. That was were he was headed. He knew that was where she was detained.

He was getting nearer; he could feel it. There was more security in the underground labs, something only needed if you were guarding something important.

He didn’t look any one of the people he killed in the eye. He didn’t care about them. He relished and took joy when he heard their gurgled cries. He rejoiced in their suffering. They took his daughter. He would show no mercy tonight.

He killed the fleeing scientist. He killed the armed guards. He did not let anyone past him. They would pay. They took his daughter. He would show no mercy tonight.

He kicked and he sliced, and he stabbed and he ran. He ran as if his life depended on it, because it did. She was his life. Since the first moment he held her in his arms, she had become his life, and he would not let them hurt her any further. He would show no mercy tonight.

He was surrounded, with more coming in. He was so close; he could feel it. He could feel her, his little girl. He looked around himself. Guards, heavily armed (not that it would do them any good) and defending a scientist. A scientist who held a squirming lump covered with cloth. He had a terrified look in his eyes, and he would have relished in it if it weren’t for the fact that he was holding his daughter. Terrified humans were dangerous people.

One of the guards gave an order and suddenly there was the sound of gunfire. The guards that were surrounding him shot their weapons simultaneously. He put a barrier around himself and waited for them to recharge. That was enough time for the scientist to run. He watched in rage as the scientist ran to the end of the hall. He was so close. She was so close, and he was losing her.

He screamed. A scream full of rage and anguish. He would not let him get away. That man would pay. The barrier that was around him exploded into shards, shooting them into every direction, wounding the guards. He didn’t take time into checking if any of them were alive, he didn’t give a damn about them, he only cared about her.

There was no way out were the scientist could have escaped, he knew that. He had memorized the compound’s layout; he knew there was no way out. With a sudden calmness that came with cornering your prey, he walked. His footsteps echoed throughout the silent labs, his daggers dragging and leaving scratches on the wall. He would make sure the scientist last moments would be filled with fear.

He reached the end of the hallway, the door to the room closed. Blood dripped down his forehead and into his eyebrow. He didn’t know if it was his. He didn’t care. With a bloodied hand he opened the door.

Inside the room was a metal crib and laboratory equipment: syringes, a refrigerator with formula and morphine and, he realized with horror and disgust, surgical tools. The rage inside him flared and burned to a great degree. With burning eyes, he looked at the scene before him. His daughter, sitting in the metal crib, crying, the crazed scientist pointing a gun at her head with a shaky hand.

Terrified humans were dangerous.

He stopped in his tracks, planning his next move. The scientist talked, but he didn’t hear a word. He was calculating every move he could make without the scientist shooting his daughter. His mind came up with a dozen solutions, each one with a risk of its own. But he only cared about his daughter’s safety, his own be damned if it meant she could live.

The scientist was getting confident with his silence. The man started talking about all the valuable information the experimentation on his baby girl had given them. The man kept on talking, waving his hands about. Loki waited for the right moment. He didn’t have to wait long. The second the gun was pointed at him, he acted. He shot his hand out and, in classic Loki style, a dagger shot out of his hand and impaled itself in the scientist neck. The hand that was holding the gun immediately dropped it and came towards the man’s neck, were the knife was. Blood came spurting out of the wound and out of his mouth. The man dropped to his knees and Loki stepped towards him. The man looked up at him, fear clear in his face. Loki stared him down and not a moment later, a glazed look came over the scientist eyes and he dropped to the ground. The last thing the man saw was Loki’s burning eyes.

Loki stepped over the man’s body, blood steadily coming out of the wound.

He saw his baby girl, sitting inside the metal crib. He hurried over to her and met her eyes, the same colour as yours. For the first time in a year he smiled. His baby’s cries stopped, and she just looked at him. Her eyes were wide and tears stained her face, but she was there. He had found her. He had found his baby girl.

Loki went to pick her up, but something hit his back. Hard. He stumbled forward, hitting the crib. He felt blood pouring out of the wound. He quickly turned around and sent a knife flying towards the guard’s head. The guard immediately fell lifeless to the floor, the alien weapon in his hands still hot from the shot.

The weapon was of chitauri technology, made specifically from heat, the one thing he couldn’t heal from. Loki fell to his knees, eye to eye with his daughter who was still trapped in her crib. He passed a finger through the bars and touched her cheek.

He knew he wasn’t going to make it. The thought of never seeing you or his daughter again almost made him cry.

He reached into his pocket and pressed the button. The button would send information and the location about the compound, along with an urgent message to his brother’s team telling them to come at once.

Loki didn’t know how long it would take them.

His daughter’s eyes started pooling with tears and whimpers left her mouth. He didn’t hesitate to stand up and pick her up in his arms. The pain in his back didn’t let him stand with her in his arms for long so he sat back down against the crib and placed her on his lap. She immediately cuddled up to his chest and he felt happiness. A happiness he had missed since the day they had taken her.

She was rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists, but tears still streamed down her face. Before she was taken, he would use his magic to stop her from crying, but he was saving all his energy to trying to stay awake. He needed to stay awake, at least until his brother came. He remembered that she liked listening to your voice. He remembered you singing her to sleep. He liked staying in the doorway and just watching you interact with her. How you held her, how you looked at her, it was as if she had hung the stars and moon herself. It was how he looked at the both of you. He looked down at the little thing in his lap and took her tiny fists in his hands. He met her tearful gaze.

“Hello, little one.” She looked up at him in wonder. “Do you remember me? I hope you do. I’m your father.” He smiled gently down at her. “Do you remember your mother? I’m sure you do. I remember how fascinated you looked every time you heard her sing, and I don’t blame you. She does sing wonderfully. You tried to sing along with her a few times. You have a lovely voice, my sweet girl.” He leaned down and kissed her tiny nose. Her tears had stopped coming and she even managed a small giggle at his act. Her laugh made his heart soar. He continued talking.

“She sang different songs every night. She never repeated the same song. It’s fascinating how many songs she has memorized in that mind of hers. It’s what attracted me to your mother in the first place, her mind. And now she has me wrapped around her fingers. And I don’t mind it. Don’t tell your uncle Thor I said that. I would never hear the end of it.” Loki stared down at the small hands he held in his larger ones. “Your mother never got to meet him.” He didn’t know how he felt about that. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. He saw that her eyes were starting to close. He knew she wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t continue talking.

“There is one song that she sings every day. Some days it would be your mother favourite song, but they keep changing every time I question her about it. She has a beautiful voice, your mother.” He started remembering your voice. How beautiful it was. He would never tire from hearing it. He stared in front of him and he could see you. You were standing by the doorway with a smile on your face. He knew you weren’t real, but Norn’s, how he wished you were. You walked towards where he was sitting with your little girl. You knelt down in front of him and cupped his cheek. He realized, quite suddenly, that he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face and he couldn’t stop them. The pain in his back was intensifying. You wiped his tears.

“It’s time” He shook his head.

“I can’t. I must wait for Thor. He’s the one how is going to take our little girl away from this place. He’s the one who’s going to bring her to you. Please, love. Not now.” You smiled down at him.

“Can I wait with you?” With tears streaming down his face, he agreed. You moved to sit beside him but didn’t touch. The baby snuggled closer to his chest.

“Sing for us, my love. Would you?” He looked into your eyes when he asked. He knew you weren’t real, but he pretended that you were there. You hummed a nameless melody. You didn’t have a song in mind. He concentrated on the notes trying to distract himself from the pain coming from his back. Blood was pooling under him. He focused his seidr on stopping the blood flow. He knew it wouldn’t last but he hoped it would be enough until Thor arrived.

You sang. You didn’t stop singing, not for one moment.

It felt like weeks. Maybe it was only a day before he heard sounds from above ground.

“It’s those blasted Avengers.” He said weakly. It was getting progressively harder for him to stay awake.

“Don’t say that. They are nice people, and that Captain America?” He looked at you with an annoyed look. You smiled cheekily. “All I’m going to say is that he has nice assets” He tried to roll his eyes but even that hurt.

“They better be quick. I’m getting tired of waiting.” You smiled at him and passed your hand through his hair. He closed his eyes at the sensation but opened them again for fear of falling asleep. Sweat was dripping down his brow, getting into his eye. He blinked it away. He distracted himself by counting the seconds it took them to get down to where he was. It was exactly 321 seconds it took for them to send someone down to his level. He heard the footsteps creeping down the corridor. He tried to speak up but what came out was a rasp. It seemed to do the trick because the footsteps hurried. When blonde hair appeared through the doorway, he was never happier to see his brother. Thor’s eyes widened and he managed a smirk, although he wasn’t sure if it came across as one. Pain flared from his back and he closed his eyes trying to keep quiet. He breathed in through his teeth and he heard Thor’s footsteps coming closer. He opened his eyes when he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He could tell that his brother was scared. He knew he was not a pretty sight. With the last strength he had, he gave his baby girl to Thor.

“Thor,” he rasped, “This is my daughter.” Thor’s eyes widened in shock. He was holding the baby clumsily, as one would hold a ball. If it weren’t for the pain and the circumstances, he would tease his brother mercilessly about it. Before the blonde could make any questions, he cut him off. He didn’t have much time left.

“Take her back to her mother. She lives on the outskirts of Portland, Maine. If you remember any of the lessons mother taught us, you will know which house it is.” For good measure he gave him the address of your shared house. He waited for his brother to nod before he continued.

“Tell her I had to go into hiding. Do Not tell her the truth brother.” Thor was going to protest but, again, he cut him off. “Don’t lie to yourself brother. It is only by sheer force of will that I am still talking, and that’s going to end soon.”

“We could save you! Just hang on a little longer. The others will come soon, and they are going to help you or so help me I will”

“You’ll what Thor? Smash them with your hammer? That’ll do no one any good. Besides I am the villain in their story. How many heroes do you know who would save the villain? In the many battles you’ve one you never helped the enemy. What makes you think they will be any different?” He couldn’t bare to look into his brother tear filled eyes. He looked away from them and stared at his sleeping little girl. A smile made his way unto his face and he reached out a trembling hand to caress his chubby cheek.

“Swear you will protect them.” He was breathing hard now, and the edges of his vision were going dark. It was almost time. “Swear it Thor” He asked desperately when he didn’t get an answer. He looked into his brother eyes, the desperation in his tone matching the one in his eyes. The tears that were in his brother’s eyes streamed down as he nodded. “I need to hear you say it brother.”

“I swear it Loki. I swear I will protect them with my life.” It was then that his daughter decided to wake up. They both looked down at her.

“Good.” He said weakly. He felt your hand holding his and his vision went dark. The last thing he heard were the sobs of his brother and the shrill cry of his baby girl.

Norns how he will miss them.

I cried writing this, but i hoped you enjoyed. As always my other writing platform will be listed below. I update faster there.

Fanfiction: WhiteLunaNight

Archive of our Own: FairyArtLover

#tw: death #tw: violence #fanfic #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki #loki (marvel) #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #thor #original baby character #baby girl #baby #implied experimentation #implied child experimentation #family reunion #major character death #character death #slight hallucinations #hallucinations #I swear its not as bad as it seems #part 5 #part 5 of 5 #finale #hydra agents #angst #major angst #LOTS OF ANGST #tw: blood

[jafndaegur]

Get Up

MC x Jumin MysMe Fanfic

If MC was a professional Soccer player

The night air felt frigid against MC’s skin as she jumped up and down in front of the goal line. She had come out of the box just to get her legs moving again, although with the game happening up at three-fourths field she wasn’t worried yet. Both midfields and hind-sides began to pull back and she watched as both her team’s forward and the other team’s fight for dominance over the ball. As MC pedaled back into the goal, her vision glanced upward to see Jumin, Zen and Jaehee all watching with intent gazes. Their eyes followed the game and she could even detect excitement in their observation.

She smiled. Before, she had never considered inviting her friends to her games. Jumin always insisted he come despite his busy schedule, and she would always counter with the fact that if they lost, she’d be disappointed that was what he would see. But when she excitedly came to her husband squealing that they were going to play for potential scouting for the World Cup, Jumin called the whole RFA up to support here.

Yoosung didn’t like the cold, and Seven said he would watch through the cameras on the sports complex’s exterior. Jumin dragged Jaehee to the game, even though she was happy to support her friend. And Zen came wearing the soccer team’s gear—no one needed to ask him twice to support his best friend.

To MC’s surprise and maybe even bashfulness, Jumin was also wearing the team’s t-shirt, right under his pinstripe suit’s jacket and neatly tucked into his trousers. God he’s such a dork and I love him.

MC crouched down, hearing the coach and assistant coach screaming from the sidelines to get ready for a jump catch or a block. Three forwards were rushing her, flanked by the midfields. For whatever reason, her own forward’s were caught too far behind, not quite enough for the rush to be offsides, but just enough for the other team to have a definite lead. MC’s knee pulled down and she leaned in, putting all of her weight to be ready for the kick.

And boy did it come.

After a series of passes to each other, the opponent’s sent the ball barreling towards her. The wind shrieked past it and MC inhaled deeply. Her cleats ground into the soft ground and the grass twisted between the teeth as she wound her muscles up and jumped. Sudden panic flooded her stomach when she realized she mistimed just by the smallest second and her jump fell too soon. Fingertips pushed the ball ricocheting off the goal’s lip and sent it plunking out of the goal box but still in the hind-field.

The crowd gasped when she fell to her knee and the ball rolled out into a window that neither team had predicted. It was within her jurisdiction so, no one needed to ask her to scramble for it. Her thick gloves slicked over the grass as she raced for the ball, relief flooding her system as she beat a forward to it. Her body wrapped around the ball and she protected it from an onslaught of kicks.

Someone must not have been paying attention, because her head exploded with mind numbing pain and colorful spots in the darkness of her vision. She gasped out, and yelped. Whistling filled the air and the referees called a warning as they let the other team know that ball was safe and to pull back to their side for a punt.

MC yelled when another kick landed to the base of her skull, ten times harder than the first one. Her body felt wobbly and she barely had time to recover as another kick from the toe of someone’s cleats landed to her forehead. Blackness overwhelmed her and she was barely aware of curling so tight that her head was resting against the slippery plastic of the soccer ball.

The ref’s whistle squealed and she came to a strange dream-like existence. Her eyes blinked open slowly and she was vaguely aware of two referee’s holding back Jumin on the sidelines. One of the referee’s held up a red card, the ultimate call of foul play. MC noticed her coach right by Jumin’s side, screaming into the face of one of the ref’s.

Jumin’s gaze was intense when he noticed her waking, and he yelled something. His perfect pale lips were forming two words. She recognized them.

Get. Up.

Zen and Jaehee were both screaming from the bleachers. “MC get up! Get up!”

They were the only positive commotion. Booing came from the other opponent’s crowd, and she could hear them. “That goalie’s faking” and “Ref, the keeper is fine! That card was bullshit”

Gritting her teeth, MC snarled and use her forearms to push herself up. She was vaguely aware of the cold trickle of something down the bridge of her nose, and the metallic taste that seeped through the part of her lips. The head ref ran towards her and asked if she to sub out.

“Play.” She span the ball in her hands as she staggered to her feet. Her vision flickered to the scoreboard and she saw that the clock read forty-five seconds left.

Are you sure, he asked.

“Play.” She back-walked into the goalie’s box.

The referee nodded and blew the whistle for the game to continue.

MC roared “Get back” as she ran forward, keeping an eye on the three-fourth’s line before sending her punt spiraling out into the sky. Her team read her signals well, and a center-field player met her punt with a head-butt that sent the ball in its path to the forwards. There was another struggle for dominance as the clock read thirty seconds left. She stumbled back into the box, falling just in time to hear the whistle of the goal.

Her team shrieked and cheered, racing back to starting positions for the last ten seconds—

And then the game ended with the final ref-call.

With the game over, and customary condolences given to the players by the players, MC limped back to the bench. Her husband was there waiting for her, his arms crossed over his chest and a displeased frown pressed on his expression.

“Jumin,” MC laughed, hobbling over to him.

He shook his head and embraced her. His hands ran along her sides soothingly, before one of them settling at the base of her head. A tremor shivered through him.

“I can feel the bump at the back of your head,” he whispered, daubbing at her forehead with a handkerchief. “And you’ve got blood all over your face.”

She nuzzled his chest, fighting his ministrations. “You’re imagining things, Jumin.”

“I was furious when they wouldn’t stop kicking at you.” His voice rumbled in its deep tenor and MC trembled a bit. “If it hadn’t been for the authorities holding me back, I would have picked you up from the field and never let you get back on.”

“Oh c’mon, darling, I’ve gotta have some dignity left,” MC squeezed him gently, wincing when he placed a light kiss to the crown of her head.

“But,” he egged on, tilting her chin up to face him. “When I saw you open your eyes, there was something there. What I saw when you saved me from myself. A fire to succeed.”

She blinked.

“I wanted to see you get up,” Jumin whispered. “I wanted to see you fight back.”

Giggling, MC stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose. Several of her teammates were cat-calling at them and yelling for them to get a room already. She laughed, urging on their teasing by pressing a light and chaste kiss to her husband’s lips.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she laughed when she felt him smile against her lips, bringing her back for something a little more firm. “I’m starving and hamburgers sound great right now.”

Jumin shook his head. “I’m taking you to the doctor.”

“Jumin, no!”

He draped his jacket over MC’s shoulders, a grin and chuckle on his lips. He swaggered away, stooping down to pick up his wife’s duffel bag before heading back to where Zen and Jaehee were waiting. MC rolled her eyes and ran after him, reaching for his hand.

a/n: So I haven’t been writing for MysMe because I had some pretty disheartening experiences within the fandom...but, after talking last night with @mrs-han I wanted to get back into it. I missed Jumin too muchXD So I hope you enjoy!

#jumin x mc #jumin han #mystic messenger #mysme fanfic #soccer au #sports au #hyun ryu #zen mysme #jahee kang #mysme jahee #mysme jumin

[butterflyinthewell]

Old fanfic: Get Off My Island!

Era: Heisei era

- Written in 2006, so my writing skills were less polished then. -

Characters: Shezilla, Godzilla and Zilla (GINO to some!).

Summary: An unwelcome guest takes up residence on the island Godzilla and Shezilla call home. With Godzilla off foraging for food, Shezilla has to fight for her territory alone. 

* * * TW: Violence, blood and a bit of poop. * * *

The dialogue in italics are noises and gestures translated into words. Translations would appear in subtitles if this was a real movie. I'm pretending all monsters have a "common language" so they can always communicate with each other regardless of species.

I love this piece. It showcases Shezilla’s personality so well. She doesn’t take kindly to invaders of her space and neither do I! ;)

GFW Goji gif is appropriate because Shezilla has the same build and moves the same way. Just paint the suit granite gray, toss on a Heisei era head and (slightly smaller) dorsal spines and you’ll have a girl with attitude.

Fanfic beyond the cut.

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---

o

Get Off My Island!

o

Shezilla stirred to awareness in the deep blue of the calm ocean. It was the first time she'd opened her eyes after hibernating the winter's coldest months away. She found a gleaming reactor core waiting for her - clearly a gift left by Godzilla. He always woke up first and left her a little present before taking off to find himself a meal. Shezilla drew the reactor to herself and felt the familiar prickle as her body absorbed the radiation. Her small, silvery dorsal plates flickered, the heat in them causing the water in her vicinity to boil. After she drained the reactor, she cast it aside and pushed up with her whole body. The powerful movements of her body and tail dislodged various barnacles, remoras and even bits of coral that took root on her hide while she slept. What didn't come off on its own got scraped off when Shezilla paused to groom herself with her long claws.

Finally, after nearly an hour of swimming off her stiffness, Shezilla surfaced near the island her and Godzilla called 'home'. The familiar rocky shores, white sand, brown mountains and a lush green jungle growing in a huge gorge were a welcome sight. It was mid-day, muggy and clear, the sun a brilliant white flare in the blue sky. For a moment Shezilla just enjoyed the sparkles on the water. She even grunted and rolled over on her back to let the sun bake her belly.

The kaiju female may have remained on her back all day. But something captured her attention. Shezilla rolled over and swam slowly towards the beach. Her eyes were drawn to a large pile of black feces on the the sand. Wastes told her a lot about her mate's health, like how much he ate and whether or not he was in season. Shezilla had taught her mate how to dig a hole in the sand and bury his business afterward - and he did, most of the time, so it really irritated her to find his nasty black filth just sitting in the sun to stink up the island.

Wait...black? Godzilla produced many interesting colors, but black was not among them. Shezilla moved closer. The sand had no drag marks from his tail. The footprints were narrow with less toes. Shezilla could not count, but she could tell the difference between more and less. She bent to sniff the feces and smelled fish. It definitely was not her mate's doing. Godzilla liked to eat whales, not fish. Shezilla growled low in her throat and stepped around the mess, her nostrils flaring at the unfamiliar scent hanging around the footprints. Her gold eyes narrowed, snarl lines appearing on her nose and cheeks. Her lips pulled away to bare one fang.

Intruder, Shezilla thought, now very wary and alert to every sound. She cautiously followed the footprints until they vanished into the jungle. The fishy, leathery scent was strongest there, so she knew she found the intruder's hiding place. Shezilla felt small prickles of fear rise up her spine. Charging into the jungle wasn't a wise idea - for all she knew the intruder could be stronger than her.

Shezilla opened her mouth and roared. "I know you're in there!"

Trees rustled, then stilled. Whoever hid there did not come out.

"Come out!" Shezilla howled again.

When that failed to get a decent response, Shezilla hauled off and kicked one of the boulders near her feet. It flew up into the air and disappeared into the trees with a loud crash.

"Owww!" cried the intruder, its roar hoarse and screechy. "This is my island! Go away!"

"YOUR island?!" Shezilla's gold eyes widened. Her fear became anger. This was HER island, her home! How dare this fool come here and invade it! She snarled, "You must be mistaken. This is MY island."

"It was empty when I came here." hissed the hidden creature.

"Because I was enjoying my winter's sleep," Shezilla replied coarsely. "You're not welcome here. Leave!"

She heard a low growling sound. Then, suddenly, a silver-gray form emerged from the trees. The creature had a large, flat head with glowing golden eyes and triangular gray spines running down its back. Its body was muscular while its arms and legs were very lean, and its posture was decidedly horizontal. Long black talons tipped its fingers and toes. Yet despite its menacing face and gleaming claws, the creature only came to Shezilla's throat.

Zilla regarded this unfamiliar female curiously. He knew she was female by her scent. Her wet hide was granite gray, bright and glistening against the sky. She glared at him through narrowed light gold eyes. Her fangs were bared, gleaming in the light, and she had bone white claws that rivaled his own in length. She stood upright on muscular legs and flat feet. He could see a hint of her dorsal plates glittering over her shoulder. Her arms were shorter than his, but also viciously muscular.

"Well?" Shezilla puffed out her chest and shook her shoulders. This caused her dorsal plates to slam together, creating a deafening clang. "Are you going to leave?"

Zilla hunched himself down until only his head was visible above the jungle foliage. "What if I don't feel like leaving?"

Shezilla's lips twitched into a half smile. "You want to leave."

"You know..." his glowing eyes arched in a grin, "you are quite lovely."

"You're not my type," Shezilla clenched her fists, "I'm taken anyway."

"Pity. You're probably wasting your time with him, whoever he may be." Zilla huffed and stood up again.

"Wasting my time?" Shezilla growled deep in her chest. Not only did this creature invade her territory, he also insulted her mate! She closed her fingers and her knuckles all cracked one after the other. The rumbling crackles rebounded off the mountainsides. "Now listen here, you pathetic, fish-eating excuse of an iguana! You invaded my island, you insulted my mate and your ugly presence offends me. Now for the last time—" she roared and ignited her dorsal plates, "LEAVE!"

Zilla wasn't about to let a mere female push him around. He hissed and snapped his jaws. "Make me!"

"Very well, then." Shezilla's plates brightened and crackled. A blue-white glow formed in her throat. She reared back and spat her atomic ray into the trees.

But Zilla proved as quick as his wit and leapt clear of Shezilla's ray. The blue-white beam vaporized trees and dug a molten trench in the ground. Steam that smelled like ozone rose from superheated water in the soil. Shezilla hissed. Zilla had jumped against the sun. She cursed its glare...where did he go?!

"You're mine!" Zilla crashed down on Shezilla's back. He was heavier than he looked and Shezilla tumbled with the impact. He locked his jaws around her largest dorsal plate and yanked backwards. Sharp shooting agony raced down Shezilla's back. Shezilla felt her lips pull back in a rictus of pain. A startled cry wrenched itself from her throat. Zilla grabbed her shoulders and shook his head like a dog with a toy, trying to rip the plate off her spine. She bucked beneath him, but he had such a good grip that he wouldn't be shaken off.

"Get off me!" Shezilla's spines glowed again. They heated so fast that the spit in Zilla's mouth boiled. His eyes widened. He screamed bloody murder and rolled off her back. She stared down at him, twitching her fingers, "Feel like leaving yet?"

"Gimme a kiss and I might consider it." Zilla grinned. Some of his jagged teeth were singed black. He dragged himself back to his feet and sand clung to his lean body.

Once again, Shezilla rattled her spines in warning and wrinkled her nose. She kept tabs on Zilla's feet, noticing they were moving."You're disgusting!"

Shezilla saw Zilla's clawed toes dig into sand and rocks. His body angled itself more forward. He was going to charge. The female widened her stance in the same instant her opponent raced forward. Sand and rocks were thrown aside by his huge toe claws. He came closer and closer. He was almost upon her. At the very last second she sidestepped. She caught his head under her arm and fell backwards, driving his face into the sand. Too hard, it seemed, for he couldn't easily free himself! Shezilla grabbed the struggling Zilla's tail.

"Here, I'll help you out." she snickered. Then her muscles bulged as she yanked Zilla up by the tail. Only, she didn't let go. She swung him above her head and slammed him against the rocky ground. Then she lifted him up and did it again. Once. Twice. Three times. Each slam shook the beach. All Zilla could do was protect his head with his hands and arms until Shezilla flung him aside like a worthless toy.

Zilla smashed back-first into the rocky cliff. Pieces of it crashed down with him when he slid to the ground. He shook the sand and dirt off his face, coughing on the grit stuck in his throat. His body ached from the slamming. Dark red blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He heard Shezilla coming and jerked himself aside. Her claws smashed the boulder his head occupied a second previous. The boulder broke into several jagged pieces...that could've been his skull!

They froze that way - Shezilla with her fist to the ground and Zilla arching his back. Their eyes were locked, glowing in anguish and determination. The only sounds were the ocean lapping the shore, their heavy breathing and the occasional low growl. Shezilla's lips twitched away from her fangs.

Suddenly, Zilla dashed down the beach at seventy miles an hour. He was heading for the lowest cliff that jutted over the jungle's edge.

"Oh, no you don't!" Shezilla took off after him, angling her body forward and lifting her tail off the ground. She ran like an olympic sprinter, her feet smashing everything she stepped on. Zilla glanced over his shoulder. He was shocked to find her almost right beside him. Looking back also slowed him down. Shezilla passed Zilla. She ramped off a slanted boulder and leapt at the cliff. Then she threw her feet forward and kicked off the cliffside, gaining even more height. In one graceful motion, she twisted around in the air like a feline and dropped across Zilla's back. Zilla couldn't handle Shezilla's weight and his legs collapsed. They both rolled across the sand, dazed by the impact. Shezilla recovered first, her heart fluttering from the effort of running. She began to pummel the mutated iguana's head and ribs, each impact echoing across the island. Zilla shrieked as each blow jarred his bones. He snapped until he caught her fist in his teeth and squeezed, dragging her off his back. He did a standing leap onto the cliff, which was as high as Shezilla's chin. Shezilla lost sight of him.

"This isn't over!" she screeched, digging her claws into the cliff and using sheer upper body strength to haul herself up. Her bitten hand ached, angering her even more. Zilla was waiting for her. She snarled up at him. "Coward!"

The air cracked like a whip and Zilla's tail became a blur. Searing pain struck Shezilla's face. Her head jerked sideways and her blood splattered on the rocks. A thin red wound opened up near her left eye. She touched her cheek and blinked at the crimson streaks on her claws. He...he cut her face! Even if it healed in a minute...he still cut her beautiful face.

That really pissed her off.

"You are DEAD for that!" Shezilla screamed. She saw Zilla sprint up the jagged, rocky path leading into the mountains. He was leading her away from the solid, flat ground to a place where her footing wasn't always assured. Shezilla heaved herself onto her feet. A being like her looked utterly out of place on top of the cliff she stood on. She was covered in dust that fell off her in wispy clouds.

You're not getting away that easily! Shezilla snarled silently, watching him. She followed her opponent at a slower pace, studying how he jumped and wove around the sunbaked rocks. The sound of a roaring waterfall echoed up from the gorge. It fed a deep lake attached to a river that lead into the sea on the opposite side of the island. Shezilla's lips twitched...so that was where he headed. She wasn't much a fan of breathing freshwater, it smelled terrible, but it did taste nice and do wonderful things to her skin.

Zilla was almost in a panic - he hadn't expected Shezilla to follow him up the cliff! She proved more agile than she looked. He needed a hiding place she couldn't get into, and fast! She wasn't able to jump like he did and only ran in short bursts...if he could just exploit that weakness, he might be able to—

He smelled ozone. Shezilla's ray rushed towards him. He ducked it. The mountain top above him exploded in a shower of rocks.

Shezilla rushed Zilla when he crouched. She waded through the rock slide like it was nothing. Zilla screeched and did something unexpected - he lunged! Unprepared, Shezilla halted her advance. He kicked his foot out and scraped his huge toe talons across her chest. Sparks flew. Pain made Shezilla see stars and she smelled her own blood. Three diagonal red gashes marked her torso like war stripes. Zilla's claws were covered in it, too, like some kind of morbid nail polish. She blindly flailed her arms, catching the side of his head with her claws. His darker blood splattered all over her arm and flowed freely from the four slashes she opened on his cheek. He wrapped his jaws around her throat and began to squeeze.

"I hate to damage such a lovely face," growled Zilla, his glowing eyes narrowing, "but I've had enough of your attitude."

"So says the one who invades territory that isn't even his." Shezilla panted back just as Zilla's powerful jaws cut off her air. Her chest heaved uselessly, burning from the wounds, and she once more called upon the nuclear engine that powered her life.

Zilla's eyes widened. Shezilla's body got a lot warmer all of a sudden. Before he could disengage his teeth, the sledgehammer force of a shockwave slammed him into the mountainside. The whole cliff shook and more rocks rained down on them both.

Shezilla got up and shook the dirt off her body. Then she reached down to lift the largest boulder from the rock slide, a big, jagged boulder as large as her torso. Her chest, leg and arm muscles bulged with the effort and she bore her teeth at the pain it caused her wounds. The spines on her back flickered bright blue.

Blinking, Zilla stared at her. There was no way Shezilla could throw that at him! It took everything she had just to lift it!

Suddenly, Shezilla spun around like a shot putter. When she released the boulder, she fired her atomic ray on it. The concussive force of her breath sent the rock flying at Zilla. Just before it hit, the boulder glowed and shattered into thousands of molten shards that sandblasted the hapless creature. He wailed and writhed in white hot agony. It was in his nose and mouth, steaming, burning, boiling. Some of the pieces stuck to his skin and kept on scalding him. Parts of his gray hide smoked and bubbled. The air smelled like burnt flesh. Black burns created cheetah spots all over his body.

"Damn you!" spat Zilla.

Shezilla snorted at him. "It's your own fault."

Still screaming, Zilla broke away from Shezilla and raced down the incline leading towards the jungle lake. It was a one hundred foot plunge, but the water was almost as deep as Lake Michigan. Zilla threw himself headfirst off the cliff and splashed hard into the cold water. His body sent displaced water surging into the jungle.

"Stupid move!" Shezilla sprinted down the sharp incline after him. She leapt into the air, did a forward flip for more airtime and landed feet first in the lake. The resulting tidal wave flooded the jungle a second time. Her world turned blue as her body sank like a stone in a flurry of bubbles.

Now Zilla REALLY started to panic. Shezilla could swim, too? He saw her as a dark shape drifting between the shafts of moving sunlight. She cut through the water without hardly moving her body...how did she do that? Then he caught sight of her gold eyes boring into his skull. In the time it took him to blink she was on him. They both slammed against the bottom of the lake. Great sediment clouds rose up as they grappled. Then Zilla wormed away and took off for the surface. But Shezilla swam faster. She came up beneath Zilla so fast that both of them rose completely out of the water. Shezilla snapped her jaws shut around Zilla's fleshy throat and dragged him back into the depths with her. As they fell, dark blackish-red blood mixed into the frothy white splash.

After a moment of quiet, Zilla stumbled out of the lake. He moaned from his wounds. Chunks of his soft throat had been torn away. He was missing a few teeth. His sides were covered in burns and slashes. All of his wounds bled freely all over the jungle greenery.

Shezilla emerged as well, her eyes full of malice. She limped slightly from a deep slash in her lower calf, but her speed was not reduced at all. Her throat was covered in teeth marks that hadn't healed yet. The front of her chest still bore diagonal stripes. Bloodstains turned her teeth from white to red.

Growling, Shezilla leaned forward and bum rushed Zilla. Their bodies crashed together with a deafening thud and they tumbled through the mud. Zilla shrieked, trying to roll her off, but she wouldn't let him go. He ended up on his back with her on top of him. Shezilla pinned him with her weight and slapped him on either side of his flat face, snarling viciously, "How dare you taint my jungle with your blood! You disgusting beast!"

"Finders keepers," Zilla grimaced. The heavy blows stopped coming. He managed to grin, eyeing her. Her posture gave him a complete view of something people weren't supposed to see.

Shezilla followed her foe's leering gaze. Her eyes widened. If she could blush, she would have. She slammed her fist into his windpipe."Pervert!"

Zilla coughed from the surprise attack. He caught her head with his whip-like tail. Shezilla wailed at the blow and fell over sideways, clutching her ear. Then she got a face full of mud when he sprinted away. He cleared the gorge to see a rather pretty orange and yellow sunset. The sun was a red half circle sitting right on the water.

Yes! The ocean was right there! Zilla paused to look back at Shezilla. The surf crashed around his feet, stinging some of the burns around his claws. He saw her grin wickedly at him...and that was when he realized that he couldn't win against her. Best to run while he still had legs. Zilla shuddered and turned to run for the ocean.

And he slammed right into something so solid that he recoiled and lost his footing. He blinked up. A charcoal black leg, bulging with muscles, filled his vision. It moved aside and a face even meaner than Shezilla's peered down at him.

Godzilla grinned down at Zilla. "Boo."

Zilla squealed like a hatchling. "Don't hurt me anymore!"

"That's the invader!" Shezilla howled.

"This scrawny excuse of an iguana?" Godzilla rumbled, slapping his fist into his palm. His golden brown eyes narrowed contemptuously and his lips pulled away from his jagged teeth. A low growl rattled in his chest.

Gulping, Zilla stumbled back a few steps. He looked backwards at Shezilla. Her dorsal plates were glowing. He glanced forward at Godzilla. His spines also glowed. Whimpering, he covered his face in the same instant he heard their atomic rays discharge.

But they didn't hit him. Instead, the heat beams smashed into the sand right next to him. The shockwave flung him face first into the sand. Before Zilla could figure out what the heck just happened, Godzilla grabbed the back of his neck.

"Seeing as you're not even worth killing, I'm going to let you go. But if I ever so much as glimpse you near this island again..."Godzilla growled so low that it vibrated Zilla's bones, "...there won't be enough of you left to be dust on the ground. Am I clear?"

"O-okay. Yes! Uh-huh." Zilla squeaked.

Godzilla adjusted his hold on the back of Zilla's neck. He turned him towards Shezilla. "Now apologize to my mate."

The mutated iguana blinked when the claws on his neck tightened. "I'm sorry!"

Shezilla snorted. "You better be. If I ever see you again anywhere..." her lips curled into that wicked smile, "...your day will end most unpleasantly."

"You'll never see me again! I swear!" Zilla cried, flailing in Godzilla's grasp.

The idiot iguana's whining wore on Godzilla's nerves. He snatched Zilla's tail with his other hand, faced the water and punted Zilla with all his might. Zilla sailed through the air and landed with a tremendous splash over fifty yards away. He vanished under the sapphire sparkles without a sound.

Godzilla gave Zilla no more thought. Turning now to Shezilla, he studied her. She was bedraggled, blood-splattered, soaking wet, covered in mud and she gave off the most delicious musk. Godzilla thought she looked gorgeous like that. He decided not to mention that he was hiding just off shore, watching the entire fight. Sure, he would've jumped in if Shezilla required help, but she didn't need him. He loved it when she did things that showed off her muscles. The sight of her savagely beating up that iguana was...it was the hottest thing Godzilla had ever seen in his life. It took all of his willpower to not tackle her in the middle of the fight.

"My love?"

She grunted as her breathing regulated. "Yes?"

He approached her, grinning, and swished his tail. "Lay down."

"But I'm a mess!" Shezilla protested, gesturing to herself.

"I know." he purred, nuzzling her and licking the ticklish spot behind her ear. "But I like it when you get all dirty, because I get to clean you up."

"Oh, you!" Shezilla slapped her mate's chest, giggling at the hidden meaning in his statement. "You're terrible!" Then she caught his scent and sighed, curling into him. How could she resist a big lug like Godzilla? He began to lap at her face and throat, his sandpaper tongue cleaning away the dirt and dried blood clinging to her hide. She nuzzled him affectionately. "I'm going to be so sore later, thanks to that stupid iguana."

Godzilla just snickered against her ear. His gaze softened when he saw how the sunset sparkled in her gold eyes. He bent to clean the wounds still present on her chest. They were almost healed, but he wanted to tend to them anyway. As he did so, he purred, "You'll forget all about it in a few minutes, my love."

His gentleness was getting to her. It always did. She looked down at him, though all she saw was the top of his head. "Ooh, promise?"

He paused to look at her. His amused brownish-gold eyes sparkled and the setting sun outlined his face. "Do ugly, oversized iguanas fly?"

Shezilla stared at him. Godzilla grinned back. They both burst out laughing.

o

Somewhere far away, Zilla stirred from his tormented slumber. His wounds were all healed and his strength had returned, but he couldn't shake the memory of his humiliating defeat. He needed a place to nest. It had to be an island with an ample food supply and plenty of places to hide. The island he chose before was perfect, but its current residents weren't very welcoming. So once again he found himself searching for a nesting site.

Finally a day came where he encountered floating beasts that captured fish in gigantic brown membranes. He surfaced into a torrential rainstorm to see where these creatures came from.

Bingo, he thought.

Godzilla and Shezilla might have beaten him...but they didn't know they just showed him to spot of land even better than theirs. Right in front of him was a massive island covered in weird silver boxes. The tallest two pierced the clouds. He could hide in there for months and nobody would ever find him. It was beyond perfect.

Zilla closed his glowing eyes and submerged with a smile.

#Godzilla #Shezilla #Zilla #GINO #Heisei Godzilla #Heisei era #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fun #2006 #gif #seizure warning

[leviosacon]

An early post from the Leviosa Quill today! It's less than a week until Leviosa 2019 kicks off in Hollywood and we're more excited than Buckbeak with a sack full of ferrets. Our house elves are hard at work, muggle banishing spell are in place, and there's a whole lot of magic going on.

One of the programming areas we're excited to bring you is our Lit Track. Filled with fabulous authors and fun panels this one is a don't miss for any book nerd. As book-loving witches and wizards we just couldn't wait for next week though, so The Quill caught up with one of those author's, Lindsay Ribar!

What are you looking forward to most at Leviosa? Oh my goodness, everything. I always have the best time at conventions like these, and I can never predict in advance what my favorite part will be!

What was your favorite part about working with other authors on The Pros of Cons? Pretty much everything! The fact that I could hang out with two of my best friends and call it “work.” The fact that I only had to write one third of the book. Having built-in beta readers wasn’t bad, either!

What was the hardest part? The hardest part was definitely the outlining. Alison and Michelle are both plotters, whereas I’m a pantser—but in order for co-writing to work, plotting is pretty necessary. Which means they had to drag me, kicking and screaming, into the land of outlines.

If you could co-author a book with any author (living or dead) which author would you choose? I think the answer has to be JK Rowling, doesn’t it? I think we could write a great book together! We could collaborate on the world-building and the character development. She could be in charge of the plot. I could be in charge of the feelings, and of making it more gay.

Have you ever written fanfiction? If so, what fandom? Oh yeah, fanfic is what got me into writing in the first place. I started writing fanfic back in elementary school, long before I had an internet connection and long before I knew that “fanfiction” was the term for what I was doing. I’ve written for a lot of different fandoms over the years—The Scarlet Pimpernel, Dexter, Yuri!!! On Ice—but Harry Potter was the one that taught me how to write, how to edit, and how to be edited by others.

What author life goal are you most looking forward to smashing? I will consider myself successful if and when I find fanfic of one of my books, preferably E-rated, written by someone I don’t personally know.

What's your favorite way to celebrate Potter in your everyday life? That would definitely be the “Mischief Managed” tattoo on my left forearm.

Thanks, Lindsay! Check back soon for more from the Quill about the people and programming of Leviosa.

#HarryPotter #hp #hpcon #fancon #conference #nerdy #familyfun #events #thingstodo #LAevents

[americaswritings]

Cinderella | Part 15

Prompt: Fairy tale AU

Summary: When your father marries another woman, she brings not only two evil stepsisters into the house, but turns you into a maid. Working hard day for day your only hope is the princes ball, where he will pick his future wife. But will you be able to flee from the claws of your family?

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: nothing I can think of so far

Pairing: Steve x reader

A/N: This is for @ruckystarnes writing challenge.

I just realized that I had a typo in my summary the whole time *-* Also, have you guys seen Infinity War yet? I love this movie so much! :D

Tags are open! Only through asks! Please consider leaving feedback or suggestions for the further plot :)

Series Masterlist

You were still held captive in the basement, provided with lots of difficult and senseless tasks to keep your hands moving and your back aching. 

Today was the day the last ball would take place. You couldn’t decide if you should feel relieved that everything was over and your life would go back to “normal” or if you should feel even more frustrated.

You chose to ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach and focused on your work instead. Although things had ended horribly, you were still grateful for the time you had spend dancing and chatting with the prince. 

Not every girl got a chance to do this. Your mother would be proud of you.

Altogether your plan to rebel against your stepmother and her cruel behaviour hadn’t worked out, but you had managed to sneak out off the house more than once and had made a great friend.

Wanda.

You hoped that she wouldn’t think that you ditched her. You would never do that, but disappearing without any explanation had to appear odd.

Suddenly the door opened and your stepmother rushed into the room. She had visited you frequently after she had given you work to do, to check if you were doing everything how she wanted it to be. 

But this time something was different about her behaviour. She seemed to be stressed, because a deep frown was covering her face and her breath was hitching in her throat.

Curious you moved towards her to get a clearer view on her face.

“I nearly finished”, you mumbled carefully, but your stepmother only shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now”, she stated and dragged you outside of the room by your arm.

You could hear a group of muffled voices outside of the house and for a second you thought about screaming, but then you decided against it.

You didn’t even know, who was in front of this door and you couldn’t dare to cause any more trouble.

“What is going on?”, you whispered in confusion, but your stepmother didn’t answer you. 

She shoved you through the back door and towards the dovecote you had already forgot existed.

Your stepmother opened the little door and pushed you inside, but you held onto the doorframe.

You needed to know what was going on.

While your stepmother was trying to push you inside with more force, you caught a glimpse of the royal flag.

For the split of a second you wondered what they were doing here, but then you suddenly felt a wave of hope rushing through you.

They were here for you. Steve was here for you.

“Hey”, you screamed at the top of your lungs, but it was already too late.

Your stepmother had used the moment of distraction to push you inside, gagging you with a wet cloth. 

You tried to fight her, but she had yanked your arm in a painful grip, which made it impossible for you to resist her.

Then she tied your hands as well as your feet with a rope. 

The material was so firm that you could already feel bruises forming on your skin.

Your stepmother took a step back to admire her work, then held her finger in front of her mouth.

“Ssschh”, she whispered and the sound send shivers down your neck.

The door closed and the last rays of light vanished, leaving you alone in the darkness.

You spend the first minutes trying to figure out a plan to free yourself, but after every attempt failed, you started to hit the walls of the cote with your feet.

Maybe you could break down the walls, if you put enough strength into your kicks.

The dovecote was old and sordid, but the only sound, which was heared was your heavy painting and your feet hitting the wood in irregular moves.

No splintering nor cracking.

After a while you stopped and focused on figuring out a better plan, but the chains were too tight to free yourself and the door was locked from the other side.

You tried to scream a few times, which only resulted in coughing and choking.

You could hear a pair of voices in the distance, but they were too far to take notice of you.

After a while it went silent and you heared the sound of clopping disappear in the distance.

They had left. They hadn’t found you.

You expected your stepmother to appear to bring you back to the house, but nothing happened.

Maybe she wanted to punish you even longer or something had happened, which required her attention somewhere else.

-

“Here it is”, Wanda announced when her, Pietro, Natasha and the friend of Natasha named Clint Barton reached the mansion.

For a moment they all stood in silence concentrating on their thoughts, but then Natasha spoke up. “Alright, so everyone stick to the plan. Any questions left?”

Everyone shook their head and Natasha smiled satisfied. 

“Good. Then let’s go.”

-

You had lost every track of how much time had passed, when you suddenly heared noises near the house again, causing you too look up.

Maybe it was your family, who was making their way to the ball, but somehow it felt different.

Something was going on, but you couldn’t lay your finger on it.

The voices were coming closer, so you started to hit the wood with your feet again, putting all your last strength into the kicks.

-

Natasha straightened her back and took a deep breath. “It will work”, Clint reassured her and in this moment she was more than glad that he was here with her.

Although they had discussed different scenarios of how the plan could fail and what they would do if it happened, she was still worried that something could go wrong.

She hadn’t met (y/n)’s family before, but having seen the black eye the girl had earned from them, had been enough to set off her alarms.

“I know”, she responded confidently, but it sounded a lot calmer than she was feeling.

She might appeared fiery and tough on the outside, but it was a whole other level to trick someone in leaving the house when it was so important that nothing would go wrong.

Natasha knocked on the door and after a few nervewrecking seconds, the door swung open, revealing a woman in her fourties in a low-cut blue dress.

“Hello”, Natasha greeted politely, but the woman didn’t seem pleased of their company.

“We’re here to bring you to the ball”, Natasha explained and pointed towards the luxuriant carriage near the house.

“It is still early”, the woman frowned confused. 

“We know. That’s why we are here. The prince send us, because he has laid an eye on one of your daughters and he wants to have time with her before the ball starts.”

A surprised smile formed on the womans features, but she tried to not let it show. 

“Of course he has! They are gorgous young women.”

But her smile was soon replaced and her brows knitted together in doubt. 

“The prince was here today, claiming that he only wanted the woman as his bride, who could fit her foot into the shoe he had with him.”

Natasha gulped and exchanged a quick glimpse with Clint.

They hadn’t know about that.

“We know”, Clint then spoke up calmly. “It turned out that it belongs to someone, who isn’t worth the title. A horrible mistake. One of your daughters is now the rightful candidate for the title.”

Clint stayed composed while presenting the lie, but on the inside it made him grit his teeth to say that the prince wouldn’t take a woman as his bride, who had a low social rank or not much money.

Although he didn’t know the prince good, he had only talked to him once at one of the balls, he had learned that he was a kind soul and didn’t care about formalities like social ranks.

But Clint was also sure that the woman in front of him, who was wearing so much jewelery that she reminded him of a christmas tree, would like his lie and it would make him appear more trustable.

She gave them a satisfied smile and turned around to call her daughters, not bothering to explain to them what was going on.

Patiently Natasha and him were waiting for the girls to get ready, when the stepmother leaned in close, surprising both of them.

“Can you tell me which one it is?”, she whispered while watching her daughters fight over the right pair of shoes to wear.

“I am sorry, but the prince didn’t reveal this yet”, Natasha declared and the woman nodded.

“Come on, come on”, she urged her daughters and soon the family, joined by (y/n)’s father hurried to the carriage.

“Can I see some kind of proof that you’re from the palace?”, the woman asked, but it didn’t sound like a question rather than a demand.

“Sure.”

Clint fished in his pockets to reveal a golden emblem, which he had lend from one of his friends, who was working in a high position at the court.

The woman eyed it for a second, then decided that the glamorous carriage and the golden symbol were enough to convince her and climbed into the carriage.

Clint and Natasha went for the coachman’s seat, exchanging small smiles.

“Have you ever done this before?”, Natasha asked the older man, who was carefully taking the reins. 

He shook his head.

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Tags are open! Send an ask!

#cinderella fanfiction #marvel cinderella #cinderella image #cinderella #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel steve rogers #Steve Rogers #steve rodgers x reader #captain america x reader #marvel captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america #Chris Evans #steve!prince #MCU #cinderella series #Raes500FollowersChallenge #my own

[luckycaricature]

Another fanfic the fanfic I mentioned earlier that wouldn’t save hkkk cuz I really don’t feel like drawing cuz I don’t feel great but I have another “Dammek throwing a fit” thing stuck in my head and????

Alkfjlsakjlfskla

Consider this me making up for the fight scene that honestly should have been in that last one hahaha

I feel like some of the writing is a little stupid, but hopefully it’s still nice to read hahaha

All day, Dammek had just kept going on between sobbing on the floor and throwing things in a screaming fit. Jude was at his wit’s end because he had absolutely no idea how to calm him down.

He didn’t even know what set it off. When he woke up, he just found the troll pacing in circles in the kitchen. He had been mumbling under his breath then, but soon he was pulling at his hair and banging on the table, and it just kept escalating from there.

Jude thought he should just let him get it out of his system, but it was going up to noon now and he really had no idea how his babysitter would react coming home to this.

Their precious television was about to be smashed to pieces before Jude grabbed the coat rack in Dammek’s hands. He quickly spun his head around and snarled at the human, which caused Jude to flinch a bit, but they both held tight to the metal weapon.

“Look Dammek, I know being so far away from home can be stressful, but-”

The troll got right in his face and roared like some feral animal. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S AT STAKE!”

Jude winced. He didn’t exactly enjoy being sprayed with slobber, but at least his glasses protected his eyes from it. He wanted to reach for his cleaning cloth, but he also really didn’t want to let go of the coat rack just for the troll to break something with it.

“There’s an error in your judgement though. Destroying my house won’t get you home.”

But Dammek was having none of it. With a loud snarl, he threw Jude to the ground and tried to press the rack down on him to crush him. The boy may have underestimated how strong the alien was, because it was taking all he had to try to push back. And he wasn’t exactly making any headway.

Not really seeing much of any alternatives, and quite frankly being in kind of a panic, Jude locked his arms around the troll’s head and kicked off the ground. It was supposed to be something like a suplex, but really just resulted in them tumbling around the floor. They were both kicking and screaming and in something of a frenzy at this point.

Dammek brought the rack up and was ready to strike the boy in the head with it. “HE’S GONNA DIE WITHOUT ME!” Jude quickly jumped up and slammed down hard on the troll’s shoulder. He watched the rack fall from his grip and slide away.

The two locked eyes as Jude glared down at him. “I’M WORRIED ABOUT JOEY TOO, BUT KEEPING A LEVEL HEAD-”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!” A swift hand knocked Jude for a loop and sent his glasses flying.

The both of them tried to stand up, but from trying to drag each other back down, they were barely keeping themselves to their knees. Dammek continued on yelling about how much Xefros needs him and all the things he has to do for him, but Jude was not having it. He couldn’t see, and the boy was driving him mad.

He grabbed him by the antlers and twisted his head around, garnering a yelp from the alien boy. He then pinned one arm behind the troll’s back, pinning the other to the floor, and sat on him.

He struggled and screamed, but Jude took a deep breath and held fast. “I need you. To calm down.”

“I CAN’T!!” He finally cried out. “I CAN’T, I CAN’T, I CAN’T CALM DOWN, I CAN’T!”

“Getting worked up isn’t going to-”

“I KNOW!!” The troll seemed like he may be dissolving back into another crying fit. “But I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t I can’t I need him I can’t do it without him.”

He let his head hit the floor with a thud. “I can’t do anything without him.”

Dammek was between growling and crying, and Jude couldn’t help but give a pity sigh seeing him like that.

“Xefros is able to keep you calm?” Dammek didn’t answer, and just pressed his face against the floor. “What does he do?” All he got for a reply was an odd, pitiful, gurgling noise.

“Dammek. Come on, I’m trying to help.”

But the troll just shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “Not important. Tell me anyway.”

Dammek struggled a bit, seeming like he may be getting his strength back up for another fight. However, he winds up just plopping back down instead. Jude leaned over a bit to try to look to the boy’s face. “Dammek.”

He jerks his head away and rests it to the other side. “Fine. He’s my moirail. He shush-paps me to keep me from going into frenzies.”

“Shush-pap?” Jude tilted his head. He didn’t know what a moirail was, but... that basically just sounded like the alien version of a friend giving a hug to him.

“See? Told you you wouldn’t get it.” The troll gave a small huff and just stared out across the floor.

All was still for a moment. Seemed as though Dammek had at least somewhat calmed down, so Jude slowly released his grip on the arm on the floor.

He gently reached to pat the troll on the head. Dammek grunted a bit, but wasn’t really sure about the situation until he heard Jude shushing him.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” The troll swung back with his free arm, and nearly hit Jude in the face again.

He grabbed the boy’s arm again, struggling with him a bit. “YOU SAID IT CALMS YOU DOWN!”

“YOU’RE NOT MY MOIRAIL, YOU STUPID FUCK! DON’T TOUCH ME-!!”

And then they were at it again, screaming and kicking and Dammek may have bit him once.

Jude grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, screaming as he slammed Dammek against the floor a few times. “YOU! ARE! GOING! TO! DRIVE! ME! CRAZY!!!”

He pinned the troll down and glared down at him. “All I wanted to do was help you calm down! That’s all I bloody wanted! Because we WILL get you back home and we WILL find Joey but I am NOT having an operative GO AWOL ON ME!!” Dammek winced as the boy pretty much screeched that last part.

Jude got right in his face and hissed, “Now. I am going to the kitchen. And I am going to see if we have cocoa or tea or SOMETHING and you WILL drink it and you WILL CALM YOURSELF.”

With a rough shove, he pushed himself off the troll. He fumbled around the room until he found his glasses, and then proceeded to stomp his way to the kitchen. Dammek just stayed where he was, lying on the floor. Motionless. Mind blank.

Okay this is actually getting kind of stupidly long so... uh... this is... chapter 1....??

I’ve never successfully written a multi-chapter fic before omg what is this

#fanfic #jude harley #dammek tetrarch #hiveswap #kismesis??? #i think my brain is trying to ship them as kismesis;;;;

[ohcaptaintarthister]

Everyone Has Secrets by Ellaria

FridayFabFic No. 1

Despite my intent to find the positive in the negative, there were some people rubbed wrong about my FridayFabFic. There are only two apologies I’ll be making: I’m sorry I don’t like your stories, and I’m sorry most of the stories I like are old. I stand by what I said about the current state of A LOT of JB fanfics but you should REMEMBER it’s only my opinion–ONE PERSON! I have no wish to be queen bee or anything (unlike some people). I don’t encourage people to have troll accounts so they can leave awful comments on works they don’t like and happily report to others their success at shooting down an author who only wanted to write differently. That’s a well-known fact about quite a lot of people in the fandom that’s nevertheless hard to swallow–at least for me.  

As mentioned before, you might not like what I like, you might approve, or you might be curious enough to check out why I like some stories and find confirmation I’m a fucking kook. I’m willing to discuss but try not to be defensive. You want to be heard, I’ll listen. But when I do, do me the courtesy of hearing me out as well. If you think there are stuff I should check out, either comment on this post or message me. 

If you’re still reading, then maybe you’re curious to find out what I say. Yay! Again, you might be doing so to find further proof what a crazy ass I am. That’s okay too! But since you’re here, let me tell what I look for in the stories that will be in FridayFabFic:

1. COMPLETE. Thus, no WIPs.

2. MULTI-CHAPTERS. I’d like to include one-shots but that would mean considering a type of story under this category that I really don’t like. No, I’m not sorry. Guys, we’re not fascists. We’re allowed to have different opinions. You don’t like angst, you don’t like major character death, well I don’t like…FUCK. I’m shutting up now. People take things so personally, Jesus. Let me pour you some Valpolicella.

3. NO CATEGORIES. Meaning it can be canon-continuation, canon-divergent, crack, modern AU, and universes upon universes. I’ve read a lot of JB. More than I’d like to admit. I lurked around AO3 for a long time before writing fanfic. I would read practically anything. What matters is…

4. THEY’RE WRITTEN BEAUTIFULLY. Such as, despite the reader knowing what universe the fanfic is written in, the writing is not predictable. The depiction of Jaime and Brienne, even if OOC at times, still works in the universe of the story. The story is compelling, a page-turner, a nail-biter, swoony. It can be a lot of things but what I look for is characterization that has depth and whose journey takes me for a ride.

5. AND…THEY PUSH THE ENVELOPE. The joy behind reading fanfic is favorite characters are placed in different situations by the writers. I’m a sucker for anything where Jaime and Brienne go through an emotional, even physical beatdown. I like them when they start out broken, or halfway through the story a monkey wrench whams without warning onto them and things are just never the same. One of them may be die. Or both. As long as the writing prepares the reader, the events are justified and works in the world of the story, PLUS it’s done well, THAT’S the kind of writing I look for. So, don’t count on fluffy stories here. They’re just not my thing, ‘kay? Here. You could use another glass…hey, don’t throw that at me! That’s perfectly good wine!

And so, awesome people, let’s raise our glasses as I unveil the first FridayFabFic… 

Everyone Has Secrets by Ellaria

Summary: (from the author–always acknowledge, guys!)  Political journalist Jaime Lannister finds himself out of alternatives when Millennium, his magazine, becomes endangered by his reckless actions. Brienne Tarth, a professional hacker charged with the task of investigating him, will stumble upon more than she expected. The mystery of a disappearance ten years earlier will draw them to Winterfell, where more than one secret might be uncovered.Based on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.

Stuff I probably shouldn’t say but will anyway:

EHS is fucking better than the original. 

Why: 

I read this fanfic first before cracking open Stieg Larsson’s novel. I like EHS better because, and no offense to those who love The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, this fanfic delves deeper into the characters. Every sentence from Ellaria is a beating heart. I am lucky to have read this when it was already complete, and can only imagine the hell readers must have gone through waiting for updates. It’s not just a fantastic edge-of-your-seat thriller but the developing romance between Jaime and Brienne has the slow unraveling, if one can say, found in a Jane Austen novel, but also with a jagged, breath-taking sexiness. You read Everyone Has Secrets either with a cup of your favorite tea or a glass of pinot noir. 

Squee Moment/s: (I had to pick my two absolute favorites)

“Sighs turned into panting, blood mixed with sweat and water. She noticed his bleeding increased due to the motion, but it was not in her to stop anymore. He shifted his angle and shoved himself deeper inside, grazing a place that she had never known was there. With a whimper on her lips she was dragged into total whiteness, an absence of existence, a moment where their juncture was all there was. Letting go of the last of her control, she felt her walls grasp him tightly and dug her nails into his back, trying to keep herself grounded.”

                                     *********************************** “I agree now,” Jaime said, looking straight into her eyes, all traces of his amusement gone. “I should have fought for you, even if I had to fight against you. I should have brought you back, screaming and kicking, back with me, where you belong.”

Jaime Lurves Brienne:

“It will take you at least two whole days.” Lannister frowned and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Not to mention that your ass is going to be flat as a board by the time you get there, and you’ll be walking like a cowboy.”

“My ass?” She shook her head in disbelief. “What do you even care about my ass?”

Brienne Lurves Jaime:

The movement caused the blanket to flap around her, and Lannister’s scent filled her nose. For some reason, it felt intoxicating.

Holy Shit Moment/s:

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he told her, placing his large hands on the desk. “You’re gonna get on the table and spread those ugly legs of yours, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’m well and pleased. Then I’ll sign the check for your allowance and pay you like the whore you are.”

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

It was fierce and loud, and came from the mouth of a big, wolfish mutt that ran towards him. Its yellow eyes regarded Jaime with rage, he barked again and again, slobber dripping from its open jaw. When the animal made to bite, baring his teeth fiercely, Jaime’s instincts took over—he pulled the stag’s antler out of the direwolf and struck the dog on the shoulder.  

Read it for:

1. The high emotional stakes. Every chapter ends on the right note, and long after it has, there’s still that lingering hum. Or purr. I won’t spoil the ending for you other than saying it ends pretty much on such notes, rather than with a bang. And the denouement is as smooth as scotch.

2. The action sequences. Jaime’s fight with a wolf is my favorite.

3. The HAWT sex that finally happened! From the time Jaime catches Brienne in her underwear outside her apartment, to their sexy online late-night chat (I kind of wanted to bang their heads together and order them to just get it on, damn it), until their very much anticipated first time and all the other times that got even more emotional and sexier. 

4. And the ending. It’s one of the most perfect endings in Modern AU JB fanfics. It’s a perfect ten!  

5. Here’s the link! http://archiveofourown.org/works/1126633/chapters/2271647

Oh, and one more thing, Everyone Has Secrets won Third Place in the 2016 All-Time Favourite Game of Thrones Fanfic at Fanatic Fanfics. It’s clearly a winner!

Sorry again that I was a little late. Migraine is an evil bitch fucker finally banished by the magic of a Thai oil whose name I can’t pronounce. I’ll be on time next Friday!

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic #fanfiction #jaime x brienne #brienne x jaime #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #modern au #girl with the dragon tattoo #ellaria #fridayfabfic