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sinkix · 4 years

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~ Haikyuu!! Boys baking with reader - Ft. Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Hinata & Nishinoya ~

YO! SO UHHHH... I’M BACK??? I GUESS?? MAYBE??? After a little break I had this in my drafts for a while and realllyyy wanted to complete it since it’s such a cute concept. Honestly at this point my posting frequencies are so sporadic and random pls forgive me lmao.

@deathcab4daddy gave me the inspo to include Ushi and it was so funny coming up with ideas for him, he is no.1 country boi chef

Dude I’m listening to the Mario Kart soundtrack ‘Coconut Mall’ while I continue writing this someone save me. Like u think I’m joking. UR WRONG.

Ushijima:

The most straightforward yet idiotic baker you will ever come across.

Before you even THINK about performing step 1, he will read the entire fucking leaflet like it’s a Shakesperean monologue.

INGREDIENTS INCLUDED.

LIKE SIS I DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW IT CONTAINS MONOCALCIUM PHOSPHATE THANK YOU.

I’m surprised he doesn’t count every single particle in the brownie mix.

You bought him a frilly cupcake-printed apron stating ‘best wife’ not expecting him to actually wear it

But since he’s secretly a big softie and treasures anything you buy he wears it proudly.

His stoic and dignified disposition is a comical contrast to the words printed on the front lmao.

Ushi best wifey bro.

The tight fit of the apron is pretty hot since it outlines every ridge of his pecs and tightly toned torso.

Gotta resist groping your mans while stirring the brownie batter.

tbh he’s more likely to grope you, he can’t resist that a$$.

And let’s face it he’s def an ass/thigh kinda guy.

Can and will try to casually initiate some form of unholy activities by lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, goading you to slowly lick the spoon and locking gazes before pulling you in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss to get a taste of the incomplete creation himself.

Ushi’s lips and brownie batter are a knock-out combo js.

Literally has the most serious face when he’s cracking the eggs into the bowl

The amount of concentration is equivalent to that of when he’s performing a serve at match-point.

HAS to set the temperature to the EXACT degree stated on the box

Everything is done by the book if you do one thing out of place he will pull you up on it lol.

“(Y/N) you were supposed to stir it for 5 minutes, not 7.”

When its done you feed him some and he can’t help but smile its so ADORBALE AHHH.

You end up eating most of it since Ushi doesn’t strike me as much of a chocolate/junk food lover.

STILL A VERY FUN BUT F R U S T R A T I N G EXPERIENCE.

Tendou:

The complete opposite of Ushi

Does everything wrong and the unconventional way.

Absolute disaster but doesn’t even sweat it since Tendou basically thrives in chaos and the disorderly.

To him instructions are purely equivocal, will read them for five seconds then toss them away.

Step aside Gordon Ramsey, Chef Tendou is here.

Despite doing everything the unorthodox way it still comes out amazing.

Like??? how???

Will cheekily place a dollop batter on your nose then lick it off fh3jkeffefds

Or if he’s feelin’ a lil freaky, he’ll swipe it off with his long ass finger and make you suck it clean, smirking at your submission as you coat his finger with your saliva.

oop-

Constantly cracking jokes and shitty food puns, pretending to drop the bowl to make you go into preemptive cardiac arrest before you can swat him with the spatula.

While you’re waiting for the timer to ping, Satori being the schemer he is will use this as an opportunity to pull some fuckery and tease you in any way he can.

u better be praying like bodhisattva TanaNoya rn because he is MERCILESS.

Suggestive comments, the brush of his fingers against your thigh, it’ll leave you A C H I N G in frustration by the end of it.

Unholy activities aside, once your baking session is completed you finish it off by feeding PHAT forkfuls of brownie to each other and giggling like dorks when it gets all over your mouth.

The jackass actually got a fingerful and SMEARED it over your cheek and forehead, drawing a little cross and snickering when the crumbs fall onto your nose.

Tendou was smart to draw a cross bc he gonna need jesus with the ATTACK you launch on him after that, which promptly leads to an all out food war in your kitchen that neither of you want to clean up after ward.

Don’t worry though it’s Tendou, he’ll somehow find a way to make such a mundane activity fun.

Nishinoya:

stirs WAY TOO VIOLENTLY

IT’S LIKE AN ELECTRIC WHISK ON OVERDRIVE.

IT WILL SPLATTER OVER THE COUNTER, CUPBOARDS AND EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR WITHIN A 1 MILE RADIUS.

You best believe he will try and eat some of the batter and you have to swat the spoon away from his mouth since he has NO REGARD FOR THE FACT HE COULD GET SALMONELLA.

Plus you know what Noya’s like once he starts eating something the whole thing will be gone in a matter of milliseconds.

He somehow managed to get Baking powder EVERYWHERE and even gave him self a little moustache with it.

The white substance kinda looked like something else but you didn’t really wanna say lmaooo.

could explain why he has so much energy all the time oK ILL STOP-

While you’re putting the mix on the tray he is SO extra and will do fancy lil swirls and over extend his arm like a swan to gracefully spread the batter

until he nearly fucking knocks it over.

During processing time since he is so excitable and impatient you best believe he’s gonna suggest a game of ping pong or something because my guy can well and truly never sit still.

ping pong match with the spatulas, kitchen island and a hard boiled egg.

Pls be careful he will rolling thunder that egg and pimp slap it so hard with the spatula it’ll damn near give you a concussion, not intentionally, but like protect your noggin. Wear a helmet.

For the remaining 5 minutes of baking time y’all just sit like kids in front of the oven and watching it rise like starved hyena’s observing it’s pray before demolishing it into sad particles of cocoa.

And lemme tell u, once the timer pings, that baking tray is free real estate for Noya. Half of your creation will be devoured before you can even put it on a plate and marvel at your handiwork.

He kicked your ass at spatula ping pong btw I’m sorry sweaty but short kings stay winning.

Oikawa:

Such a dramatic bitch like he got the whole she-bang going on.

Strapped with a pink apron, a whisk at his side and standing proudly with both hands on his hips.He is prepared like a greek gladiator going into battle.

You better believe he gonna make some snarky remarks and tease your method of doing things.

“Ah-ah-ahhh (Y/N)-chan you’re doing it all wrong, let me show you how a PRO does it.”

Proceeds to drop entire bowl on his foot and yelp like a little girl in pain.

Well and truly embarrassed with himself, you put a band-aid on his toe and he piped down after that.

Shattered big toe and mixing bowl aside, actually a really good baker??

He is a PRO at decorating, y’all decided on cupcakes since its literally his forte to make them look aesthetic and pretty.

You almost don’t wanna eat them from how good they look.

jk almost

You take it in turns breaking bits off and placing pieces into each others mouth with a loud “aaaaaahhh!”

Places a piece in your mouth, leans forward and locks lips with you in a soft, passionate kiss before pulling away and uttering the words “It tastes even better coming from your mouth ;)”

hnnnNNGGGGGGggGg.

You both whine and bicker over who cleans up after.

“You cleaaannnnn!”

“no Toru YOU clean!”

“but I made the cupcakes look pretty :(”

“not as pretty as you <3″

He did the cleaning after that.

Like just stroke his ego with some compliments and he’s whipped with a smug grin on his face for the next 30 minutes.

You decide to save the rest and bring them to his next practise.

Literally on the verge of tears when he sees you beaming and holding the platter of treats, Kiyotani mauls half of them in a matter of seconds to which Oiks gets salty over LMAO.

Hinata:

So excited oh my god he’s so precious please protect him I will CRY-

Has a little sunflower apron on and JBJKNDDDKDW IM SMILING JUST IMAGINING HIM FIDGETING IN EXCITEMENT OVER THE THOUGHT OF BAKING COOKIES.

Yes you decided on cookies bc he goes rabid for some choc chip biccies.

You have to guide him v carefully because of how easily confused and clumsy he is.

Cannot for the life of him crack the eggs without getting a quarter of the shell in the bowl so you have to do it instead.

Has a surprising amount of strength and forearm power bc holy shit boy can stir FAST.

Hums a little tune while he does it and bobs up and down with a wide grin on his face it’s so adorable, he has such a gentle singing voice I can’t-

Attempts different shapes with the batter when pouring it onto the tray but fails pretty miserably lol.

he tried ok???

Once they’re done he takes the tray out of the oven and since it was heavy, subconsciously propped it with his knee and nearly dropped the entire tray from the pain. (I’ve actually done this before when making chicken nuggets I do not advise being that brain dead)

Had to put some burn cream on the bbies knee :’((

When you decided to dig in, he handed you a cookie that looked like a crooked circle and said he tried to make that one a heart and insisted he feed it to you.

Blushed VERY hard at the moment of silence and intense eye contact while he fed it to you.

Nearly short circuited when his fingers brushed against your lips.

Moe moe x100000000000000000000000000000

You offer to do the cleaning after because he hurt himself and you didn’t wanna make him do any work, but he still offered to wipe the surfaces for you bc he’s an angel <333

literally just wanna marry him.

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c-rose2081 · 3 years

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Storybook Days

(Chapter 1)

—

It’s Summer in Auradon, and Audrey is tasked with babysitting the VK kids while the others are busy. Not sure what to do with them, Audrey agrees to read from a book of stories Dizzy found in the royal library. Except the book is actually enchanted; and now Audrey, Celia, Dizzy and the twins are stuck inside its pages, having to go through each story until they find a way out.

—

“Ben, you can’t be serious,”

It wasn’t very Princess-like to whine, but Audrey Rose didn’t care much for being proper at the moment. It was a bright and clear Summer day in Auradon, and the young King had just dropped a last minute bombshell on the heir of Auroria, “what do you mean I have to babysit?”

“I wouldn’t do this unless I had to, Auds.” Ben said, only half-apologetic as he quickly signed off on some papers while trying to kick on his left shoe, “but Evie’s presence at the Royal Picnic has been requested,”

“So what!” Audrey insisted, following Ben across the study as he gathered up his leather jacket and motorcycle helmet, “why not take the little heathens with you to the stupid picnic?”

Ben shot Audrey a warning look as she lifted her hands and scoffed, “sorry. I just mean they are troublesome and annoying, and I don’t want to babysit,”

“Audrey, you know I’d love for them to come, and for us not to be having this conversation. But four VKids running around with a bunch of stuffy dignitaries is a disaster waiting to happen. This Picnic is really important,”

“But why can’t Uma do it? Or your parents?”

“Because Uma, Harry and Gil are on the isle this weekend doing outreach, and mom and dad will be at the picnic,”

“Ugh, but Ben...”

“Audrey,” placing both hands firmly on the girls shoulders, the boy shot her a dazzling, Kingly grin, “remember what you said to me after Barrier Day? About wanting to make amends?”

“Yes,” Audrey grumbled, “I’m the one who said it,”

“This is a perfect opportunity. It’s just one afternoon, till tomorrow, and Mal and Evie would certainly appreciate it,”

“But the VKids hate me, Ben,” Audrey insisted again as the King walked from the office with a pink Princess in tow, “Celia put chili powder on the rim of my teacup the other day. I could’ve died,”

“It was a harmless little prank, Audrey,” Ben chuckled, swiveling around on a heel to cup Audrey’s cheek in his hand, “you’ll be fine. I have full faith that you can watch them for a night.” He reassured her, “please Audrey? For me?”

Giving the girl his best beastly pout, Audrey folded her arms tightly against her chest.

“Fine. But you’ll bring something back for me, right?” Audrey asked, admitting defeat with a deep sigh and an eye roll, “a piece of cake or...”

“Something sweet for my favorite Princess.” Ben agreed, hurriedly kissing the back of Audrey’s knuckles with a smile, “you’ll do great, I just know it. Evie left some instructions on the fridge, and you have us all on speed dial. Now I have to go or I’ll be late,”

Leaving the Princess at the top of the steps, she watched Ben mount up his motorbike and speed off with an army of staff behind him. This left the castle unusually quiet, and Audrey placed both hands on her hips as she exhaled deeply.

“Babysitting duty,” She scoffed under her breath, tipping her head to rub the place between her eyes, “what a world this is.”

Once upon a time, Audrey would’ve been invited to the Royal Picnic. Naturally though, after her little stint with Maleficent’s Scepter, things had been a bit rocky with the other royal families in Auradon. She was shielded from the gossip by spending the Summer in Beast’s Castle, while her Mum, Dad and Grammy patched things up in Auroria with broad, fantastic strokes. But she still caught wind of the whispers going around. None of them pleasant.

Turning and walking back into the castle, Audrey closed the door with a shallow BANG, and rattling echo. She walked towards the kitchen, still trying to soothe the headache she already felt coming on. Of all the people in the Castle, Audrey was the favorite target for devilish pranks. The VKids were little brats, running around like they owned the place and being spoiled rotten by Evie. And though Dizzy could be sweet on her own, she was Celia’s right hand minion when push came to shove.

Grumbling nonsense under her breath, Audrey swept by the island towards the fridge. Here, a scrawled note in Evie’s hand lay stuck under a magnet. It wasn’t just instructions; it was an entire schedule of things to do.

“These kids live better then I do,” Audrey mumbled, raising an eyebrow at some of the items Evie had listed.

Bake Cookies

Croquet on the Lawn

Movie Marathon

Run Baths

Bedtime Story

“Bedtime story?” Audrey mumbled with a scoff, “you’ve got to be kiddi-EEK!”

Audrey leapt up with a shriek as something cold was dropped down the back of her dress. Shaking herself hard to dislodge the ice cube from lace and satin, Audrey groaned in frustration as she whipped around. Celia and Dizzy were on the floor, holding their tummies as they laughed. The Twins were peeking in through the doorway, not laughing but staring at her like she’d take their heads off.

“You little brats!” Audrey hissed, “get off the floor. Front and center,”

“We don’t take orders from you, old hag.” Celia cackled, rolling over onto her stomach, “why aren’t you at the Picnic? Didn’t get invited?”

“As a matter a fact I didn’t,” Audrey seethed through her teeth, “so now, I’m stuck here watching you four,”

“Awe what!” Celia complained, finally getting back to her feet and brushing off her skirt, “but Evie had a big day planned.”

“Yeah well, Evie’s not here,” Audrey hissed, holding up the list in her hand and waving it around, “and I’m not interested in catering to your every desire. So you can just forget about that,”

“You’re kinda mean,” Dizzy complained.

“You just put an ice cube down my dress, scared me out of my skin, and now you expect me to play nice? I don’t think so,” Audrey hissed, tearing up the list in her hands and tossing it on the counter. Turning to the twins, she pointed at them, “you two, in here with me. We’re gonna have a chat,”

Hesitantly, the blondes scuttled in. Four VKids now faced off with a very peevish Princess, the girl placing both hands on her hips with an animalistic huff, “alright, twerps. Here’s how this is gonna go. I don’t really care what you do. Go hide in your rooms, watch TV all day, play with swords in the armory, whatever. Just leave me out of it unless someone’s dying,”

“What will you be doing?” Celia asked, “plotting to curse Ben and Mal’s first child?”

Both Ceila and Dizzy sniggered behind their hands as Audrey clenched a fist tightly.

“I really hate children,” she managed under her breath, folding her hands together as though in prayer, “listen, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. I get that, and I’m really quite reasonable. So just stay away from me, and you can do whatever you want. Kapeesh?”

Four pairs of eyes blinked up at her in confusion as Audrey rolled her eyes and translated, “do you understand?”

“Yeah, we understand,” Celia nodded, glancing at her companions before pinning Audrey with a hard stare, “but we want waffles for dinner.”

“Deal.”

“And we want to watch an R rated movie!” Dizzy added as Audrey lifted a brow but shrugged. If it kept the little monsters away from her, it was worth the risk.

“Fine. Anything else? You two?”

Glancing at the twins, the blondes shook their heads quickly as Audrey clapped her hands together and sighed in relief.

“Great. I’ll be out by the pool enjoying what’s left of today. You stay in here and do whatever, and we’ll be peachy. Kay?”

Nodding in agreement, Audrey turned and walked from the kitchen. Changing into her favorite bikini and hat, the Princess found her way to the pool a little while later. Not trusting the water — lest Celia put dye in it that would make her skin turn blue — Audrey found a comfortable spot on a lawn chair and dropped the sunglasses down over her eyes. For a while, the world was peaceful. But Audrey should’ve known better then to trust the VKids word on anything.

While she slept, Celia managed to drop a scorpion on her from the upper balcony. Where she had even gotten such a thing, Audrey wasn’t sure. But it pinched her fair skin a few times before she was able to knock it away, causing horrible red welts to form. Upon running inside, she slipped and fell on oil that had been lift on the marble and slammed back first into a suit of armor. There was laughter above her on the stairway, but Audrey was to busy rubbing the long cut which she now had on her forehead from the fall to notice.

It was an afternoon of one vicious prank after another. From simply stealing her clothes while she was showering, to locking her in a broom closet which they had somehow tricked her into, it was constant pain and torment. Her own little hell on earth. By the time dusk was falling, Audrey was exhausted and in pain. Her head ached from a possible concussion, and her stomach burned with the scorpion stings. Her mouth tasted a bit like ash from the Alo-Vera gel Dizzy managed to spread on her sandwich while she wasn’t looking. And she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.

Thankfully, after putting the movie on and shoving plates piled with waffles into the kids hands, the terrible two had shut up. The film was long over now, and Audrey assumed the four had made their way to bed. She herself was trying and failing to sleep when the slow open of her door made her heart still. Not another prank. She couldn’t handle any more today.

“...Audrey?” Dizzy whispered. Ignoring the girl in hopes she’d simply go away, Audrey winced as her shoulder was gently tapped, “Audrey, are you awake?”

“...I am now,” the Princess groaned, rolling over to face the VKid. Dizzy was haloed in the hall light, but Audrey could see the tears streaming down her face and what appeared to be a book in her arms. Sitting up slightly, Audrey’s brows furrowed, “hey, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” Dizzy croaked, “I had a nightmare,”

“A nightm-” pausing, Audrey sighed and nodded, “from the movie I bet.”

“It was really scary,” Dizzy whimpered.

“Ok. And what would you like me to do?” Audrey asked, not entirely sure how to proceed. After all, when she was young and couldn’t sleep, she never went to mum or Grammy. They just sent her back to her room with a sleepy grunt and a ‘go back to sleep, Audrey’, and that was it. Comforting a scared child wasn’t something she did, let alone something she ever had experience with.

“Can you read me a story?” Dizzy asked, “I found a book in the library.”

Glancing at the clock, it was only about midnight as Audrey rubbed her face tiredly and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, fine. Go turn on the light,”

“Is it ok if the twins listen, to?” Dizzy asked, crossing the room to the light as Audrey sat up.

“You aren’t planning on waking them just to hear a story, are you?”

“No, they’re already here.”

At being mentioned, two blonde heads in night caps glanced around the doorway.

“Ah, I see,” Audrey rasped, “well come on then. Might as well read to everyone,”

At the invitation, two short bullets zipped like mice across the carpet and landed on the mattress with a PHOOPH. Dizzy followed after, climbing to sit next to Audrey on her right side as she handed over the book.

“Where did you even find this thing,” Audrey asked, blowing dust from the beautiful embossed cover, “it’s ancient,”

“I dunno. It was on one of the bottom shelves,” Dizzy shrugged, “so what’s it about?”

“A book of fairytales,” Audrey told her, reading the inscription on the first page, “this book, bequeathed to Beast and Belle on their wedding day. May it find you well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Glancing up at the new voice, Celia leaned in the doorway. Though she appeared casual and unbothered, Audrey could see the dark circles under her eyes, meaning the movie probably got to her as well, despite her facade of bravado.

“It was a wedding gift,” Audrey told her, “come to hear the story?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in that kind of thing,” Celia grumbled, though she made her way towards the bed anyway and crawled up to sit on Audrey’s other side. The twins laid across her legs, blinking up at her with sapphire colored irises.

“Well, one small story won’t hurt. Despite all the torture you put me through today.”

Celia said nothing to this as Audrey turned back to the book, flipping the page to the first story: Little Red Riding Hood.

“Once upon a time,” Audrey began, “in a wood not unlike this one, a little girl in a red cloak was making her way to her grandmothers house...”

#disney descendants #descendants #descendants fanfiction #audrey rose #celia facilier #dizzy tremaine #smee twins #fairy tales #storybook

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multific · 4 years

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Tantrum

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: You are the only person who can calm the Kylo Ren down.

Your husband was throwing another tantrum. You knew it because you felt his anger through the force and because a scared stormtrooper ran to get you to him as soon as possible.

You knew Kylo for a very long time when the two of you were only training under Luke, and you had been married not long after he became the Supreme Leader. Now that the power was in his hand, he could do whatever he wanted to, and marrying the love of his life was the first on his list.

As the slide-door opened, a piece of metal flew only centimeters from your face. The stormtrooper ran away, while you just stood there, waiting for Kylo to notice your presence.

He had his helmet on, the room he decided to completely destroy was actually a room they only finished putting in the new equipment the other day.

A few seconds went by and he was still behaving like a mad bull. Slashing everything with his lightsaber, and throwing things with both the force and his own manpower.

You started to get impatient, after all, you were enjoying a rather nice cup of tea with a book when the trooper came in for you.

“Kylo!” you yelled at him as he turned and stopped his lightsaber right at the base of your neck.

You still didn’t move, you just looked at him, you couldn’t see his face, but his body language immediately changed as soon as he realized that it was you, he drew his lightsaber back and just stood there, probably shocked.

“Care to tell me why are you destroying the new equipment? Hux won’t be happy.”

“I don’t care about him.” you heard him say with that voice the mask gives him, deep and rumbly. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you sorry that you nearly killed me, or for the damage?” you said with a small smile, even if you knew he would never hurt you because you’d stop him.

“I’m sorry for you, Love. I promise it won’t happen again.” Kylo couldn’t take the image out of his head. You always loved when he called you ‘Love’ while his voice was modified.

All he saw a few seconds ago was pure rage and hatred after he got bad news, but the moment he realized that he was holding a weapon against his wife’s neck, your face was illuminated red form the lightsaber, he came to his senses. All he felt now was guilt.

“Will you join me for a cup of tea? You need to properly calm down before you can go back to work.” he didn’t answer, just let you lead him away, and into your bedroom.

A few seconds after you two left, Hux was looking at his pad as he entered the same room you just left.

When he heard the sparking notices, he looked up from his pad and noticed that the room was a whole mess.

“God damn it!” he instantly knew who did it.

***

While Hux arranged a new order, you and Kylo were in your room, you reading your book while he was laying down with his head on your lap. You were playing with his hair as you read.

You thought he was asleep but you started speaking anyway.

“Maybe we should take some time off. Get away for a few days to that lovely house you bought for me last year. Hux could manage for a few days, you did the same when he left to bring his wife and child back.”

“He has a child?” he asked a bit shocked.

“Yes, he has a son. You know from the girl from the kitchens. She and I have been speaking a lot lately. Her son is almost a year old, and I honestly love that child.”

Kylo sat up and looked at you. “You speak with Hux’s wife, you go and play with his child and you even love the baby?” you looked at him after placing your book down.

“Yes. A rather lovely child always smiles when he sees me. But you are going off track here. So, what do you say? 2 or 3 days at the house?”

“If I could, we would live there. But for now, we can’t. I need to be here. I’m sorry, Love.”

“No, it’s fine. We will find some other time.” you smiled at him, although you were a bit disappointed, you knew that he will make time and take you away where there will only be the two of you, but for now, you pulled him close and kissed his luscious lips, and for now, that was enough.

During your kiss you ran your thumb along his scar, you liked to do that, it reminded him that no matter what happened, the two of you will be together.

He will always be your tantrum making King, and you will forever be his loving Queen.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastian crunch-time-sports pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd thisismysecrethappyplace sincerelyfan theoneanna aestheticsandmarvel rororo06 castellandiangelo avengers-r-us destynelseclipsa castellandiangelo spilledinkindumpster celebsimagines capsiclesdoll firstangeldragonranch snoopy3000

~Masterlist~

My taglist is open!

Feedback means EVERYTHING to me, so please take the time and tell me how you liked my story. Thank You~

#Kylo #kylo ren #star wars kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagines #kylo ren imagine #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars au #star wars imagine #star wars scenarios

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mini-moongi · 4 years

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Curse || Namjoon || p r o l o g u e

Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Adventure

Story prompt: Inspired by a dragon prompt I saw- You’re cursed to be a dragon in the daylight. When a knight comes to slay you, imagine their surprise when the dragon turns into a defenseless human being.

Summary: [Dragon! AU] [Namjoon x Knight! Reader]; Apparently there's been a dragon wreaking havoc in the nearby village, and so King Kim Seokjin asks you to deal with it as the newly appointed knight. When you arrive, it seems that the truth is not exactly as it appears. This is a fem!reader.

Thank you to lovely @ahgassok for the title pic!! I am very much in love with it (o´ω｀o)

curse masterlist

p r o l o g u e // next

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

“I’m sorry your Majesty, You want me to do what now??” The thought sends shivers throughout your entire body. You knew he was a ruthless ruler, but you didn’t think he was this extreme. “Wouldn’t you want to send someone more qualified, My Lord?”

It was true, you had only been appointed as a knight last week. It was crazy to think he’d send you in for Dragon duty this early on. It’s not that you were terrified, but this was something you, and many of your comrades, have never faced before. King Kim’s stunned for a moment, as if he wasn’t expecting you to question him. He regains his composure in the blink of an eye, though, as if it had never happened.

“Do you lack confidence in your abilities?” The King sits upon his throne and sighs,” I thought you wanted to prove yourself to me, remember? How sad..” King Seokjin looks down at you from his seat. You are kneeling, as per the knight custom, but he could see the glimmer in your eyes.

You were the only female accepted into knighthood this past equinox, and they won’t be opening up positions again for awhile. As the only new devoted knight with female genitalia, you needed to prove yourself amongst the majority. The King’s comment flashes through your mind, finalizing your decision. “I will definitely succeed, your Majesty; you can confide in me. I will be back once the Dragon is slain.”

The King gives you a nod,” I shall be awaiting your return. Good luck, Lady Y/n.”

You tread through the forest, and the humidity drips across your face. The helmet grows heavier every second, but you were supposed to keep it on during duty. You camped out for two nights on the journey, the distance far greater than you had initially thought.

Your faithful horse gallops past the uneven terrain, until you find yourself facing an abandoned building. It was a little to the west of the village who sent in the urgent request, but not one villager would go near this damned place. The worn down castle-like structure had moss embedded into its walls, seeping with time. You wondered what happened to the castle and what it must’ve been like before the present ate away at the building. The sun was going down, and the shadow of the building casted over your figure. You sit still and listen.

Heavy thumping and shuffling sounds emit from the second floor window. No doubt in your mind that that is where the beast lays ahead. Silently, you dismounted from your trusty steed and approached the concave door. With one push, the door creaked open. The shuffling stops.

Cautiously, you make your way up the spiral stone staircase. Despite the outward appearance, the inside of the castle is clean and homely. You almost mistake it as intruding on someone’s home, but alas, you can hear the beast’s growl on the floor above you, reminding you of where you really were. Approaching the master bedroom, you open the door.

Immediately, the dragon is on guard, and it’s ferociously larger than you. His scales glitter a golden color as it reflects off of your armor. The room is furnished and ornate; the scale of the space is as large as the King’s. The normal sized window seemed tiny compared to the monstrosity in the room. The dragon bared its teeth and swung at you with its sharp claws.

The sword you’ve unsheathed blocks the claws from crushing you, but its strength surpasses the knights you have battled with during training. The metal clangs with its every attack, and you can tell that it’s running out of stamina. The dragon’s nostrils flared and fire seeped from it, dissipating into smoke. It was like a warning sign, but you doubt that the dragon would light its own home on fire. In a hasty attempt to defend itself, it’s claws swung at you once more, and this time it broke through your armor. A deep gash cuts down the middle of your left arm, and you grunt in pain.

You switched from defense to offense and slashed your sword at the beast. The last remaining light from the sun disappears behind the mountain as you lift your sword up for the final blow. Its neck is open and exposed, like a rabbit waiting to be eaten. Just then, a puff of smoke fills the air halting your attack.

When you’ve regained your sight, the dragon was gone. In its place was a man shielding himself from your sword; he was trembling and backing against the wall of the room. His clothing is tattered, but it resembled royal status nonetheless. Slowly, you lower your sword with confusion written across your face.

He was definitely human, except for the purple hues in his hair. Was this a sick joke that the King set up for you? You raise your sword and point it at the man,” Identify yourself, or be slain on sight.”

It was his turn to look at you in confusion, his brows furrowed and his curiosity inching him forward. “Who are you?” His face comes closer to your helmet, but your sword against his neck puts some space between you two. His voice is gravelly and husky, but it sounds dry and hoarse at the moment. You must remember that he is only a beast, who knows what kind of trap he’s set up for you.

“Identify yourself,” you repeated more sternly than before.

“Kim Namjoon.” He stares at you with a perplexed expression. “Who are you to enter my home at this hour? Maybe the beast is not I, but you.”

“Knight Y/n of the royal Bangtan Palace.” You squint at the man. Who was he to question your motives? You stood your ground, speaking defiantly at him. “I have been ordered to slay the beast that dwells here, and if it be you, then I must say farewell, Namjoon.”

“Would you really kill a Kim?” He speaks as if your loyalty belonged to him. What a fool, you think to yourself. He may be a Kim, but he is not the King. He chooses his next words carefully,” A knight like you should be able to recognize royalty when you see one.” A sigh escapes his pillowy lips,” But I can’t blame you. You're just doing what you’re told.”

Your eyebrows furrow as the aching sets in and watch as Namjoon’s eyes trail down to your torso. His face softens,” Are you okay? I’m sorry for hurting you,” he says,” We need to patch you up before you bleed out.”

You try to refuse the monster’s help, but when you try to push him away, pain jolts your body to be still. Your eyes flutter shut as you try to compose yourself, but Namjoon already swept you up in his arms.

The next moment you open your eyes, you find yourself sat upright against the headboard of a bedroom. You stir awake, trying to get a grip of your surroundings. The former beast, Namjoon, is tending to your wounds. It runs deep, and the taste of blood still lingers on your tongue.

“By no means am I a medic, but hopefully you’ll be okay.” Namjoon says as he wraps your arm in bandages. You don’t respond, still wary of his motives.

“What do you want from me, Beast?” You spit the words out as best you could. You may be hurt, but you can’t trust him. Years of training taught you as much.

“I don’t really want anything from you,” He smiles,” It’s just that I haven’t seen another person for at least five years. You’re my guest.” The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but he looks away before you can question it.

He walks over to the other side of the room to an open door; it leads to a bathroom. A damp cloth stained in your blood is washed away in the sink, red water going down the drain.

“I’m sorry I have to ruin your mission, miss,” He calls from the bathroom. “I’m human; just cursed, is all.”

You hadn’t even thought about him being cursed. That would make more sense, but the King is supposed to keep tabs on every cursed being in the Kingdom. Some sort of protection plan, he said. But then why would he order you to kill Namjoon? “...What do you mean?”

He comes back from the other room, bringing some herbal medicine back with him. “I was supposed to, uh, be King.” Namjoon clears his throat. King? Your words failed to find you as he continued speaking. “I was sabatoged. They abandoned me here and left me to rot. I’m...” He never finishes that sentence when tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

“I can’t even say it..” Namjoon’s laugh is lifeless and hollow, and the fist he had clenched releases its grip.

You put your hand over his fist in an attempt to sooth his feelings. “I apologize, Namjoon.” Silence hung in the air while you try to muster up the right words. “Thank you, really, for cleaning my wounds. You could’ve let me die, and for that, I am indebted to you. Is there any way I can help? A way to break your curse, maybe?”

Time escapes you as Namjoon explains the ins and outs of his spell bound curse. You peer out of the window, seeing the colorful hues rising into the sky. Any moment and the sun will rise beyond the mountain. You turned to the man. “So you’re telling me that in order to lift the curse and slay the dragon, I have to kill the King?”

He notices you peering out the window, and recognizes the time he’d taken from you. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Look,” he looks at you in the eyes with a gentle face,” Your time with me means so much, but I’m going to turn back soon. Please, you need to rest, we will talk again soon.”

You watch him leave through the guest bedroom’s door. You tried to follow him, but your eyes land on his morphing figure as it looms in the common room. A cloud of smoke waves through the air and once more is the dragon from yesterday.

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

Taglist for this series is open! (o´ω｀o)

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screensirenfic · 5 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 1

Life had remained largely the same, despite the obvious overhanging changes over the last year. I mean; life had always been hectic; disastrous even, taking turns and downright derailing at the worst times. We’d experienced loss again and again, been chewed up and spat on, but got up fighting; because that was what being a Hopper meant, being too damn stubborn to die. It was in the genes.

Life had gotten weirder. The discovery of real, living and fucking breathing monsters had been a big ole’ “fuck you” to logic, but science seemed to back it up with the uncovering of Hawkins lab and whatever sinister experiments they were running there. Of course; that wasn’t a concern any more, considering old Uncle Sam had shut that down quicker than the health inspector at Benny’s; God rest his soul.

But even with the finality of the death and burial of Hawkins greatest catastrophe/mystery; it still left a lot of bodies in its wake, one of which I was currently adjusting to calling sister.

Eleven. El. Jane. Whatever people preferred to call her; she was currently sharing a home with Me and my dad, as we all played happy families in the darkened depths of Indiana woodlands. I liked the kid; I’d admit it. She was sweet in her own way, and knowing she could toss shit around with her mind made her much cooler than the average thirteen year old. Of course; all of that was a secret. Everything about El was; as far as the government knew, she didn’t exist. It was the price that had to be payed for safety, and God knew dad valued that above all else: including our sanity.

So instead we stayed shut inside that little wooden hut forgotten by time and space, sneaking in and out at the rising and setting of the sun, like criminals or bats in the night. It was enough to drive you crazy; and trust me, dad was already half way there. Tensions ran high all the time; higher than they had at the height of his PTSD, and God; sometimes I just wanted to scream. For someone to address that shit wasn’t normal, rather than sitting around and pretending that it is.

The only true bit of normality was school and work. Mainly just school, as the arrival of a new dependant meant my work hours were seriously fucked. Wasn’t the kid’s fault; dad was a workaholic, didn’t know when to call it a day, and that left me picking up the pieces. It was Sara all over again. At least back then things were normal. There was still trauma, but it was the kind normal families had. A missing parent; semi-alcoholic father; that was shit everybody had to deal with, but this. This was the stuff that only happened in B movies.

—————————————

God; sometimes I really loved having a motorcycle. The wind slapping your face like a Californian wave; that rush of adrenaline when you take a corner a little too fast, when death seems just moments away. It was like flying; soaring through the air without limits. No; it was more visceral than that. Like free falling; the absolute relinquishment of control as you hurtle through the ozone, the earth rising up at you as the void closes in; death approaching at a hundred miles per hour.

You couldn’t compare it to any other sensation. I’d seen kids trying to mimic it on tiny dirt bikes painted up like NASCARS; their little legs spinning the pedals like turbines as they tried to reach just a lick of that speed. To feel the breeze on their face; the closest you could get to freedom in the tiny township of Hawkins, Indiana. That rush didn’t touch the one I felt when I rode my Triumph, hitting 80 as I threaded through standstill traffic; the reaper breathing down my neck.

But like all great rides; it came to an end too soon, the nondescript flat roofed shape of Hawkins High rapidly approaching. I pulled into the parking lot, cruising through row after row of dusty cars; from the beat up old Pacard, to the shiny new Chevy.

I parked a couple of rows before the school, swinging my leg over my saddle as I finally accepted my joy ride was over and I’d have to land back on earth.

“Hey; Lola!” A familiar voice rang out as I pulled off my helmet, shaking my hair loose, less the dreaded helmet hair take hold.

Nancy Wheeler; Hawkins High’s very own Miss Perfect, the princess of Indiana. She was the daughter fathers dreamed of; pretty in a girl next door kind of way, well behaved, a high achiever; the kind to bring home boys who got her back by ten and kissed goodbye at the door. I got called other things. Jail bait, wild child; a lawsuit waiting to happen. Well meaning grandparents used girls like me as a cautionary tale to expecting parents on what too little discipline did to ‘nice little girls’.

Not that I didn’t like Nancy. She was nice, and Steve’s girlfriend too. Besides, being a princess was hard; a lot of expectations to live up to, a lot of hopes to let down. I never had that problem, and with her cotton candy smile; I couldn’t help but give one in return.

“Hey Nance” I chirped, placing my helmet on the back of my motorcycle and knowing damn well no one would dare touch it.

“Steve was just wondering if you’d take a look at his college application...” She began, and I could see the flustered figure in question trailing behind her.

“He’s been finding it hard to find the right words, and we know how you never get tongue tied.” She joked, and I took it at face value; I was getting A’s, despite the perception that girls like me were only good at one thing and one thing only.

“Is that so, Steve?” I asked, unable to hide my smugness as I stared at him, despite his insistence on avoiding eye contact.

There was nothing I enjoyed more than really digging into him. It was just too easy; to push all his buttons. Of course; he did the same in return, but who really had more to lose? The self proclaimed king of Hawkins High, or his leather clad sidekick?

“Yeah, sowouldyoutakealookatit?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose as if he could hide the words as you would a cough.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t quite get that.” I purred with all forced sweetness and sacharine smiles. I could never resist the urge to really twist the knife.

“I said, would you take a look at it...” he sighed; a visible strain on the admission of inferiority.

“Please...” He added, drawing a smile to my lips. Sweet, stubborn Steve; too good to ask for help, and just desperate enough to need it; but then what are friends for?

“Sure thing Harrington...” I grinned, finally plucking the crumpled stack of papers from Nancy’s grasp. “Would love to.” I removed my gaze from him, savouring the rare look of humbleness on his face, and turned it upon the paper.

——————————————-

Steve Harrington was many things. Charismatic. Caring. Rich. Good looking. A great guy with almost endless good qualities, but smart wasn’t one of them. I’d spent the best part of a quarter of an hour troweling through his paper with about as much joy as a prospector in a dry well, but was yet to strike gold.

It really was garbage, and that was treating it nicely, but still both me and Nancy tried our best to revive a corpse; not because we felt there was anything worth saving, but because it was Steve, and we cared about his future; even if it was doomed to culminate behind a deep fat fryer in a fast food joint.

My eyes trailed across line after line of smudged ink; much of it crossed out and rewritten in the margins, trying to make sense of whatever it was he was trying to convey in a comparison between WW2 and a basketball game between us and Northern.

“And did you...” I said; pointing out a particular eyebrow raising line, talking about the all American value of victory.

“Yeah; that’s what I thought...” She agreed, picking up off my tone and honing in on the line in question.

“Uh huh” I mumbled reading onwards on what was a virtual mine field of badly used metaphors and poorly linked stories.

Steve didn’t seem to fare much better than his essay, pacing restlessly up and down a small stretch of parking lot, reminding me distinctly of an expecting father in the delivery room. However; his midwives were much more willing to take our time perfecting the delivery of his academic baby.

“And don’t you think...” Nancy trailed of, redirecting my attention to a sentence circled in red marker. Another misused simile courtesy of the genius that is Steven Harrington.

“My thoughts exactly.” I concurred, knowing that we were both desperately avoiding as coming across as purposely nitpicky with his work.

A loud, impatient sigh interrupted our conversation as Steve’s nerves finally reached their limit.

“I’m sorry, but are you girls anywhere near done?” He asked, drawing our attention away from the paper and up to his signature Steve Harrington pose; hands perched on his hips.

“We were just trying to find some constructive criticism to give you...” She began her tidy little avoidance bullshit; the kind that came with years of forced diplomacy beneath the perfect four bed suburban roof. The kind of bullshit I couldn’t stand; let alone tolerate. I had to put an end to it.

I strolled up to Steve, shoving the proverbial toilet paper he’d used as an application to his chest in a way that told him loud and clear what the truth about his efforts were.

“She means your paper sucks, man...” I translated; my words holding none of her polish, but all of the dirty intentions beneath.

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was...” She said; already backpedaling the hard truth I’d spilt onto the table.

Steve just gave her a look. He knew she was lying; if only to save his feelings. He may not have been smart, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Okay; it’s a little suckish, but nothing we can’t fix...” She offered in consolation; a weak smile the most she could offer in her lie.

I was about to object, knowing the hole she was digging the both of us was deeper than we could deliver upon, when a grisly roar overshadowed all thought. I knew the sound well; all eyes turning to it’s source, the newest arrival to Hawkins.

A Chevy Camaro; older, probably fixed up by some dedicated hobby mechanic with too much time on his hands. I’d seen hundreds of them in the shop in varying states of rustiness; most beyond repair, but still, some insistent gashead would insist it could be done, sinking fistfuls of dollar into what was essentially raising the titanic.

“Nice car.” Nancy remarked, and for a princess like her to notice, it must be true. It was in good shape. Baby blue with just the slightest of wear on the paint; someone took a lot of care with their baby. Fuck; if I had one, I probably would too!

“Yeah, but I bet the backseat is a nightmare.” Joked Steve; insecurity seeping into what was meant to be a light dig.

Not the only man with a nice ride on the block now.

His dig fell short when the driver stepped out, hard rock pounding in his stead.

Pretty; was my first thought. Like his car, he had all the well tailored ruggedness that created the perfect balance between pretty boy and rebel. Blonde haired, blue eyed; think James Dean if he had a mullet. His clothes looked good too; double denim that clung to him like a second skin, with a white t shirt that really left nothing to hide.

Smoking a cigarette with movie star casualness, if I’d seen him in a movie, I’d be drooling. But this wasn’t a movie; this was Indiana, and I’d seen too many of his type roll up to Charlie’s in pretty cars with prettier faces thinking it meant the world owed them something. That that something was hidden somewhere down the denim shorts I wore so religiously.

I’d had it with pretty boys. They could all go jump off a bridge.

And as if he was already decided to live up to the cliche, he went and cemented it when he strolled past us, dripping sex and arrogance; his eyes trailing up and down me like I was something to be bartered for, like I could be bought.

“What an asshole.” Sneered Steve, taking the words out of my mouth, and I almost smiled; because of course he’d be the one to say it.

But I didn’t; not when the new kid was leering at me with all the restraint of a hungry dog.

I watched him lick his lips; that’s right, lick. his. lips. Pink tongue peaking out past too perfect teeth, running across a full bottom lip. I tried telling myself it wasn’t sexual. That it was just a private little tick that he couldn’t control. But his eyes had never left me; a dark grin that promised any number of sins stretched across a heartbreaker’s face.

“Yeah. An asshole.” I agreed; the word rolling off my tongue automatically, but I don’t think my heart was in it. That frightened me.

That, and the small itch in my stomach that grew every time his bright baby blues met my green.

Finally; those blues relented, tongue disappearing behind white teeth as he shot me a smile that could’ve sent knees buckling. A quick wink and he was done, strutting into Hawkins High like a stormy breeze that was sure to rock the entire school.

“Hey Lo. You listening?” Came Steve’s voice through a fog of cigarette smoke and gasoline; the smell reminiscent of home, despite its cause being far from homely.

“Yeah. Sure...” I replied, tearing my eyes from where the newcomer had disappeared into the school.

“Let’s get to class before we’re late.” I said, shouldering my bag as if it was any other Monday morning. And it was.

Just another manic Monday.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington #Nancy Wheeler #stranger things fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper daughter #hopper daughter

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itsanerdlife · 5 years

Text

Smoke 6/16

Pairing: Ronin!Clint Batron x Black Cat!Reader

Warning: Violence. Torture mentioned. Death mentioned. Nightmares. Lies. Seducing. Sexual humor. Broken and damaged pasts. Killing. Possessive Male. Struggling to open up. Secrets. Dark past.

A/N: ENDGAME SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT, DON’T READ THIS!!!

After the snap, the avengers split apart. Finding their own ways to cope. Clint found his under a new identity, Ronin. Getting revenge for those they lost. For the family taken from them. The evil left when heroes were wiped out, it became his mission to take out the evil. All while keeping a list of those who could help, if needed one day. Clint stumbles upon a woman, Cat. She’s a mystery in the dark. One happen stance meet, one night, gone like smoke.

After the second snap, setting the world right again. Fury is looking at those kept tabs on. When Cat appears on the screen, nobody know a lot about the mysterious woman who haunted Clint’s dreams and stole his favorite T-shirt. There’s a chance she’s in trouble, can Clint find her, convince her there is more, that he can save her? But is he the cause of what’s after her? Just what mystery is she keeping all to herself? Or is he the one she’s trying to save?

Clint

Strange strolls into the living room, only stopping when he takes notice of Y/N standing between Bucky and Clint.

“New member?” He lifts a brow looking at Tony.

“Something like that.” Tony smirks.

A low meow follows with a hiss. Odin is crouched low, tail coiled, his paw strikes out, at the edge of Strange’s cape. The cape pulls back, snapping at Odin, the corner of the material pointed at the cat, like a warning finger. Odin jumps, a startled meow escapes as he stumbles backwards, bumping into Banner. Odin looks up, only to be startled once more, he jumps, meowing, and taking off for under the couch.

“Pussy.” Y/N’s mouth puckers, shaking her head.

“Did he learn his lesson?” Tony smirks.

“No.” She sighs.

“The feline yours?” Strange looks from the couch to Y/N.

“Sadly.” She nods slowly. “Though I’m one hundred percent sure he would trade me for Morgan.” She admits. “He’s trashy for belly rubs.” She explains, when Strange looks confused. Her eyes widen suddenly, she shoots a glare at the couch.

“What?” He looks over at her. She holds up a finger at him.

“That was rude, and I will drop you off at a shelter.” She warns the cat under the couch.

“What did he say?” Nat smirks.

“He called me, the adult version of trashy.” She censors herself, avoiding eye contact.

“Slutty.” Wanda explains to Steve, who looked a little lost. Steve nods, finally understanding.

“Y/N where was Odin the other day?” Clint looks down at her.

“I thought we were going to Wally World or something?” She asks looking around.

“Y/N?” He asks. Tony is grinning in amusement.

“Wakanda, please.” Tony grins at Strange. Bucky chuckles to himself as Strange opens a portal, standing on the other side, is T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri.

“Enjoy. Text when you’re ready to come back.” Strange smiles, letting them step through.

“You know ignoring me won’t make my question go away.” He smirks at her.

“I am trained in the art of distraction.” She bats her eyes up at him.

“Seems she’s pretty good at that actually.” Buck laughs.

“Stark, Nat said you needed some help? Not another war I assume.” T’Challa chuckles, hugging Tony. Buck lifts Shuri off her feet in a bear hug. When Buck sets her down, Peter hugs her tightly. Buck and T’Challa shake hands. Clint smiles at Okoye, she smiles, tipping her chin at him.

“No, no war. Just need some advanced tech you have plenty of.” Tony chuckles, hugging Shuri.

“T’Challa.” Clint shakes his hand; they exchange a smile.

“Wakanda royalty, meet Y/N.” Peter chuckles. “T’Challa, his sister Shuri, and their general of his army, Okoye.” He introduces her.

“She was not apart of the war, was she?” Okoye smirks, looking Y/N over.

“No, she’s currently new to our team.” Clint smiles.

“Finally, instead of another broken white boy to fix. Dreams come true.” Shuri grins at them. Buck laughs, pulling her into his side.

“I don’t think you could fix what’s broken with me. I’ve grown attached.” Y/N winks at her, a smile on her lips. Shuri grins, clearly taking a liking to Y/N’s sass.

“This is her former suit. Got into a tussle with something meaner than your typical house cat.” Tony hands over the suit.

“Tony, I’ll kill you and Odin will eat you. Don’t start with me.” Y/N smiles over at Tony.

“What’s an Odin?” T’Challa smirks.

“Her cat.” Buck chuckles.

“Follow me, we’ll head to my lab.” Shuri laughs, leading the way.

-------

Clint

The hologram of the idea for Y/N’s suit builds as Shuri talks. She’s looking at the damaged suit spread out on her table. She picks up Y/N’s set of ears, looking them over.

“The ears stabilize balance and equilibrium.” Shuri looks over at Y/N who is sitting watching. She nods slowly, agreeing with Shuri.

“Wait,” Peter turns looking at Y/N “didn’t you give a pair of those to Morgan?” He asks.

“They’re also low jacked as well and Odin has her sent.” She replies in a soft, casual tone. “He’ll always be able to find her, let alone will protect her to no end.” She adds.

“Y/N?” Clint looks over at her.

“She’s cute, and her brother is that.” She points a lazy finger at Peter. Clint nods, Buck shrugs, and T’Challa and Okoye smirk at one another.

“Offended.” Peter huffs.

“You let me knock you out cold.” Y/N points out.

“Thank you.” Tony smiles softly at her.

“I can fix that eye as well if you’d like.” Shuri smiles, point to her own eyes, looking at Y/N. Her hand comes up, wincing as she touches her swollen eye.

“What pick a fight with Banner?” T’Challa chuckles.

“More like a rhino.” Y/N smirks, letting Clint help her up, he leads her over to the table Shuri is waiting by.

“Brave woman.” Okoye smiles.

“Lie back, I’ll get you scanned. Match the suit to your form as well.” Shuri nods moving around the table.

“Can you show, um.” Tony scratches the back of his head “the changes in her?” He glances around quickly.

“He means my enhancements.” Y/N explains when the others look confused.

“Tony.” He sighs looking over. Tony shrugs.

“It’s fine. Show them.” Y/N looks over at Shuri who nods.

“Wow.” Peter and Shuri, whisper staring at the cell structure that was Y/N’s body.

“Meow.” She grins, giggling softly.

“So, you like cats?” T’Challa chuckles, smiling at her.

“Do you?” She sasses, smiling.

“I like her.” T’Challa nods, Clint laughs.

“Spoken for King.” Tony pats T’Challa on the shoulder, before standing behind Peter and Shuri for a better look.

“Shut up Tony.” Clint sighs, scrapping a hand down his face.

------

Clint

“I’ll have it built and ready in two days.” Shuri shows them the finished outline of Y/N’s suit. “With the stretch of your fingers, retractable, vibranium, claws.” She nods. “A nano tech eye mask and ears as well, it’ll form like a helmet, just in pieces.” She explains looking over at Y/N.

“One question.” Y/N looks over.

“Of course.” Shuri smiles.

“Can you make it stealth? No sound? Sort of like a cat on the prowl?” She shrugs.

“I can do that.” Shuri grins.

“Guess I could give Morgan my other ears.” She holds up the set of ears.

“She’ll always be low jacked.” Peter looks over at his father.

“Not such a bad thing.” Tony shrugs.

“Being your kid? It might be needed.” Clint snorts.

“Tap the charm, twice, your finger print releases the suit. Covering you in seconds.” Shuri explains, showing the necklace and charm.

“A cat?” Y/N smirks at her. The necklace was all silver, vibranium no doubt, with a outline of a cat as the charm.

“Fitting, yes?” Shuri grins, trying to not laugh.

“She’s a smart ass.” T’Challa sighs.

“Just happens to be my thing.” Y/N shrugs.

“Being one?” Clint grins at her.

“Oh sorry, I meant my type.” Her nose crinkles, and she grins at him.

“I really like her.” Okoye laughs softly.

“What is, this?” T’Challa picks up a small pocket size wand, that connected to Y/N’s old suits utility belt. Y/N smirks, watching. T’Challa turns it around, before finding a button on the bottom, he presses it, a long extension falls, suddenly.

“Is that a, whip?” Tony’s face practically lights up.

“It’s got a electric current through it when it’s snapped.” Y/N shrugs. T’Challa eyes the device in his hand.

“Dibs!!” Peter yells suddenly. Shuri laughs, Buck shakes his head, and Y/N looks startled. “I want to upgrade it.” Peter looks around, slightly abashed for his outburst.

“Might want Banner on standby, in case he electrocutes himself again.” Clint chuckles.

“Again!?!?” Shuri gasps, loudly, and rather excited. Peter looks rather off put.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He mutters.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Y/N shakes her head slowly.

“Can you tell me the story of you knocking him out?” Shuri pleads with a grin.

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

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Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton: @ml7010 @coley0823 @yavanna80 @lakamaa12 @boltsgirl919 @feelmyroarrrr @mrsseizetheday @honey-bee-holly @marvelfansworld @mybarnesmyhero @the-real-mary-jane @dumbbitchenergytm @agentsinstorybrooke @x-whyareyoureadingthis-x @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

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#Marvel #Clint Barton x Reader #Avengers #Clint x Reader #Smoke #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Ronin Series

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erintoknow · 5 years

Text

the glass labyrinth

fallen hero fanfiction time; i think this clocks in at the second longest singular fanfic i’ve written oof. ~7.1k words [ao3]

this might be easier to read on AO3 where it’s broken into chapters. :v

–––

Take a breath, hold it, let it out. You are not Ariadne Becker. Not here. Not now. You are Adrestia, your suit the color of empty void reflecting no light, cape drawn tight around your shoulders further obscuring your form. Only the mirrored treatment of your helmet betrays you as still human. Still needing to see, still needing to be seen.

Your first goal is to secure the regenerator of course. The miracle device that could be your best ticket out of the mess you’ve dug yourself into. There it is, behind glass, under watchful eye. So close. Two parts to contend with. A central core housing the experimental technology and on a pedestal beside in a too-plain looking briefcase. The schematics to assemble the rest of the unit.

What will the finished product look like? Baptismal font or casket?

“Adrestia. Imagine, meeting you here.”

You turn and there’s a moment of disorientation. Since when are you as tall as Dr. Mortum? – You aren’t Jane. Mortum’s expression is cold but polite. You have to assume she knows that you know about her attempts to get Jane to quit. Her plans to do the same. What’s her play here?

You give a slight bow, and mimic the cold curtesy in her voice. “Dr. Mortum.”

“It occurs to me that this is the first we have met in person.”

You spread your arms wide, twirling your fingers. “And now we have. Am I everyth–thing you hoped for, doctor?”

There’s a brief flash of annoyance and then Mortum regains control of her poker face. “You’ve been taking good care of the armor, I see.”

“You did good w–work.”

“I… you’re welcome?” She hadn’t expected that.

Maybe you can still salvage this. Get her back on your side. You let your arms drop to your sides. “Look, I’m… sorry.”

“Sorry?” The confusion is plain in her voice. “For what?”

“I…” You laugh, then cut yourself off with a wince. The voice filter warps everything. “I th–think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Dr. Mortum’s expression hardens, her eyes narrowing. “If you’ve hurt her–”

“Her? Oh.” Shit. This might have backfired. “Doctor, I would never hurt her.”

Does she believe you? You wouldn’t, coming from someone that looks and sounds like you do. This was a mistake. Reaching out is always a mistake. When will you learn?

“So you say,” Dr Mortum confirms your fear. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” She turns away from you, slips past the gawkers come to check out the auction items ahead of time. You move to follow after her but the crowd doesn’t exactly leap out of your way.

You haven’t exactly been making friends either within Los Diablos’s self-proclaimed ‘villain’ community. Just because you’re all on the wrong side of law now… it doesn’t make you allies. And how many remember Sidestep? You’d swear you recognize a few faces, a few suits. Is that Sharkinator at the bar? You’d recognize the sharkhands anywhere. There’s a blast from the past. When did he get out of Prison?

Are you imagining the eyes burning a hole in the back of your head or are you really being watched? The Boulevard Casino is coated in the hum of telepathic dampeners, a hissing static beyond hearing. If it wasn’t for the physical proximity of the Rat-King, slipping it’s telepathic presence between you and the hum like a shield you’d already be clutching your head in a migraine by now.

Would sneaking in have been better? There’s no point wondering now. You don’t need to worry about evading cameras and security this way. Dampeners, radio jammers, cameras, good old fashioned armed men in fancy suits. Hollow Ground’s security is not messing around.

That’s fine, neither are you.

There’s a pressure on your attention, an urging from the Rat-King. You let it turn you, guide your sight. A woman moving through the crowd, tall, taller still by the antlers spiraling up from a helmet in the shape of an antelope skull. She’s armored, head to foot. Brown faux-leather, almost certainly masking proper armor underneath by the bulk of the thing. Gloved hands hide her skin. Her boots are made up to look like cloven hooves that add to her stature.

Not exactly a practical outfit.

Why is the Rat-King pushing you towards her? The dampeners prevent that. Wait, is that.. Oryx? Small time hitman. Or… hitwoman, you suppose. Was supposed to have fled town awhile ago after a job turned bad. Not that you would have had anything to do with that, of course. You don’t have the time in the day to personally meddle in everyone’s illegal business.

Something… isn’t right with her though. Her movement is… too smooth? Or not smooth enough. Like she doesn’t belong here. Is she going to be trouble? You need this to go off perfectly, you can’t afford any potential complications.

It’s not hard to pick out her path. She’s sticking to the walls, you could intercept her, pull her into an empty side-room before she reaches the auction hall.

No one even bats an eye as you step out from behind the curtain and grab Oryx by the shoulders, pull her backwards into the room. She grunts, elbows you in the stomach to get free and drops into a combat stance as you step backwards.

You raise your arms, try to control your heart rate. That snarl, the way she balances herself, positions her arms. Jesus christ, it’s Argent behind that mask isn’t it? Just your fucking luck. If she has any sanity she won’t risk a fight here. Not under Hollow Ground’s nose. “I d–don’t want a fight.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“It’s– it’s easier to to talk in private, w–wouldn’t you say…” You incline your head, exaggerating to make the gesture visible through your helmet, “Argent?” Fuck, you need to get it under the control. Adrestia can’t stutter.

There’s silence, and then Argent crosses her arms with a small laugh. “You’re always the worst.”

You put your arms down, “I’d say the same about you.”

“Well? What do you want?”

“I hope you’re not here for my sake.” What on earth is Argent doing here? Are the Rangers involved? They’re hardly at full strength, would they seriously try to bust something this big? It would be a disaster.

“What is this? Fishing for compliments?” She leans in, “You aren’t nearly that important.”

You put a hand to your chest and laugh, “You wound me.”

“Easy to do.”

You elect to ignore that, “You’re hardly the type for fancy parties. Though…” You tap the chin of your helmet, “I suppose you are better d–dressed this time?”

“Excuse me?”

“It suits you.”

Argent’s voice goes low and cold. “What does that mean.”

Shit, what do you mean? You wave a hand, “Never mind, it’s not important.” You can feel her eyes on you under the mask. “W–w–why are you here?”

Argent doesn’t move, unnaturally still. “Personal business.”

“That business is…?”

“Not yours.”

You huff. It’s an active effort to maintain eye contact even shield as you are. But you don’t dare look away. “So, then who else of your little friends are lurking around here? Who can I expect to find Ortega dressing up as?”

“I don’t need them.” Evasive, obviously, but what kind of evasive?

“Or…” You cross your arms, drum your fingers against your arm. “You don’t want them to know…?”

She shrugs, breaks eye contact. Damn, got it in one. “If you say so. What, you think you can blackmail me about it?”

“Oh, please,” You laugh, “They’d never believe me.” Argent’s already a known loose cannon. And there’s too many ‘heroic’ reasons you could trot out to excuse it. It wouldn’t even be hard.

“That’s true,” Argent shifts position, “Ortega has a lot of faith in her friends.”

You find yourself agreeing. “Too much.” Why can’t she see you for what you are? How can she want that? Care about –that–?

“Hrmm…” Argent steps closer, “must be lonely, not having a team.”

You stay put, ready for any sudden movement. “I’m better off alone.”

“Is that so?” She tilts her head down towards you.

“Other people always let you d–down,” you don’t bother trying to filtering the bitterness out of your voice. Let the distortion do that. “Even if they don’t– don’t want to.” The only person you can trust in the end is yourself. If even that.

“I’m not talking about forever,” she snorts, “just tonight. To stay out of each other’s business.”

“A t–truce?” you ask, incredulous. She seriously doesn’t want a fight then. Just what is Lady Argent doing sneaking into a black market auction hosted by the city’s criminal kingpin? What could any Ranger want here?

And how can you use this to your advantage?

“You’re seriously suggesting a truce?” You repeat.

“For now.”

Like hell are you going to let her escape your sight. “Oh r–really now?” You offer her a arm, “then let me be your escort f–for the evening.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“It’s… n–not a joke.” Your let your arm awkwardly drop.

“You’re serious.”

“Easier to–” might as well try honesty, “–to keep an eye on each other that way.”

“…fine.”

“S–so you accept?” You offer your arm again.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Argent sighs, and takes your arm. “Where are we going?”

You laugh, sharp and nervous. No idea what that sounds like on other end of the distorters. Hopefully something more confident than what you’re feeling right now. “W–w–where else would we go? The auction.”

Will you ever escape the path that was laid out for you? When you were Sidestep you fought against boosts and mods that stepped outside the law. Fought to uphold the very system that had enabled your creation and mistreatment.

Now you’re on the other side of the coin and you’re still pulling on what they taught you. Spying, lying… You let your gaze dance across the room take-in and evaluate. Who might cause trouble? Who can you push? Who to avoid? Thirteen years on and what has really changed for you?

You can never get out. Not really.

Argent stands at your side, dressed as a two-bit murder. It doesn’t seem right. You were wrong, it doesn’t suit her at all. What does she want here so badly she’d lower herself like this? The worry is wriggling like a leech at the back of your mind. At this point there’s not a lot more you can do. Either it becomes clear and you deal with it, or it doesn’t and it never matters.

What does matter is making sure no other surprises catch you unawares. Surprises like–

“Shit.” You whisper.

Argent jerks her head in your direction, shoulders tense. “What?”

No point playing this close to your chest. You had done some research via Jane and Dr. Mortum after your first encounter. Mortum had promised to look into it further once the auction was over but… This isn’t something Argent deserves to run into un-forewarned. “Over there, against the wall.” You quickly gesture with an arm, trying not to look like you’re pointing. “The woman in white and red?”

Argent shifts around to hide looking. “Yeah?”

“Shroud.”

“Who?”

“Ember’s enforcer from San Francisco.”

“Ember…” She growls. Not the reaction you had expected. You have to grab her arm to keep her still. “Stay clear of her. She touches someone, they die. Apparently.”

“Oh.” She steps back into place, looks back at you. “Thank… you…?”

What does Lord Ember want so bad he’d send risk sending one of his scariest agents away to collect it? You really hope it’s not what you’re thinking.

Who are you kidding, you’re not that lucky.

“Why warn me?” Argent stands a little too close for comfort.

“Uh…” Why did you? “Just– just because we’re enemies, it d–doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

“Hrm.” You’re not sure what to make of that, and Argent doesn’t elaborate.

“This is… awkward, r–really.” You confess.

“What?”

“Trading quips in a fight w–was easier than this.” You don’t look at her, watch the crowd, the stage. The auction is well under way at this point. Nothing particular amazing just yet. You keep an eye on the countdown timer ticking away at the corner of your Heads-Up Display. Not much longer until showtime.

She keeps shifting her weight back and forth. That’s why you don’t wear high heels to a standing event, honey. You learned that the hard way as Jane. “It’s easier to judge someone in a fight.”

You glance over at her and she freezes up. Huh. That’s a switch. “And so what’s your judgement on me, then?”

“Jury’s out.” She raises a hand as if to fling back her hair and then stops, tries to turn it into a dismissive hand gesture but there’s no saving that one. “But… I haven’t killed you yet.”

“Not for lack of trying.” You’ve had some close calls those last few fights before you buckled down on this project. God knows you’ve done enough to her, if anyone deserves first shot at taking you out, it’s Lady Argent.

“Oh please. I have been playing.”

“Why?”

Argent sighs, turns her head to focus on the stage instead of you. “I have fun, I guess.” She shrugs. “Fighting you, I mean.”

“I… huh.” If things weren’t awkward before, they are now. Hasn’t she figured it out yet? Who really possessed her? Well, you’re not about to come clean now. Not here, not when you’re so close.

Dr. Mortum’s ‘disintegration’ ray comes up on the stage next, packed into a very fancy clear case. Jane had put in some overtime helping Mortum raise money, liquidate assets, finding buyers… but did the doctor have enough? Even if she does… even at the starting bid, that’s going to hurt her.

You could – you could bid against her, drive the price up even higher. You know more or less what her limit is and you’ve got way more than that to play with. You only needed the money to get inside, she needs it to stay in business. And to potentially turn against you.

Or… or you could try to buy it for her, as a gift? The gun clearly has some sentimental value to her beyond the scientific, she’s said as much. Would gifting it help change her mind? Or would she view it as a bribe? See it for what it was: you trying to buy her respect?

The bidding slowly climbs, and Mortum stays in the game as it goes. Maybe… you should stay out of this one. There’s too many variables. Too many risks.

You’ll only step in if Mortum gets outbid. There. That’s as good a compromise as any.

The bidding ends up in a war between Mortum and woman in a business suite far in the back. You tense up, but no, the woman ultimately folds. Dr. Mortum wins her gun back at a very pretty penny. Good for her. Hopefully this won’t come back to bite you in the ass.

The countdown on your HUD chimes. Getting into the final moments now. You glance to your side to check on Argent and – she’s gone. Fuck! When did that happen? While you were focused on Mortum’s lot? Damn it. There’s no time to track her down now.

As soon as time hits zero, the bomb you rigged on the power substation for the block will go off. Power to the whole block of the city will go down. The casino is bound to have back-up generators but enough to power the whole security system? Dampeners are not energy efficient.

Looks like they’re putting the Regenerator up on stage next. Well, that’s handy. You won’t have to dig around backstage to find it then.

The Regenerator… One-of-a-kind prototype. The company responsible immediately shut-down and all their equipment confiscated. And what can it do? Perfect regeneration. The only way to remove your tattoos is to cut deep enough into the skin, practically flay yourself alive. Even if you lived, you’d be crippled, horrifically scared at best.

But with the regenerator in your hands and fully functioning…

Well, it’d be a whole lot easier than trying to overturn the United States Government.

Final count down now. Then showtime. Breath in, hold, exhale.

5…

You’re not scared. You’re Adrestia.

4…

It’s like leaning out of a window, watching the street below.

3–

A bright flash and a piercing boom rock the auction hall and the crowd cries out in a panic. Your helmet visor dims but not quick enough and the eyes hurt like hell, after images swimming across your vision. Shit! Fuck! You stumble into someone in front of you and they shove you back.

Someone else is robbing the Auction Hall?

The lights flicker overhead before staying dark, and the weight of the dampeners pressing in on you vanishes. There we go, there’s your cue. You hum a few notes under your breath as let you mind unfold, track every panicked presence huddling together. Too much light, now not enough. People are scared. Hollow Ground’s supposed to ensure a neutral territory, and yet here’s trouble.

With the Rat-King backing you up, you reach out and wrap your song around the crowd. A jangle of discordant thoughts. The Rat-King buffers you from the worst of it as you smooth out the edges, point them towards the exit. You don’t need to nudge everyone. Just the key parts and the rest will follow or be swept along.

Everyone here is a criminal, be they boost, mod, or norm. It won’t be the end of the world if it breaks down into a mass panic. But trying to keep them calm is good practice for the next time you’re faced with civilians. There’s no need to fill up any more hospitals.

Back in the physical world you slowly push your way against the flow of the crowd. Up to the stage. The emergency lighting comes on, casting the room in grim shadows. You brace yourself for any hint of the dampeners but it doesn’t come. Good, you guessed right then. Even with back-up generators, cut off from the main grid the Boulevard Casino doesn’t have enough power to handle everything.

There’s still too many people. Hardened villains thinking about how to turn the chaos to their own advantage. Is it an attack? Earthquake? Is Hollow Ground losing their touch? How can this benefit me?

You can’t risk any interference. Reach out again, second chorus, worst than the first. Reach in deeper, into the darker spaces. It’s an incoherent barrage from a dozen different traumas and the Rat–King has to pull tight around your mind to keep you from collapsing, from reeling back in shock and snapping the connection.

You can do this. Raise the conductor’s baton, pull it all forward.

Pull them out.

Get out.

Go!

Someone screams and the rest of the crowd starts to move. No calm to it now. Well, you tried. Someone shoves you aside, and oh yeah, physical bodies are still a thing. Switch to low-light vision and the visor tints everything green as you make the rest of the way to the stage. Get back in the game Chickadee.

As you’re about to climb onto the stage, the Rat King pings your attention.

“Dr. Mortum?” You move over to her, and she takes a step back, hand falls on something on her hip. Shouldn’t be surprised the doctor would have hi-tech glasses. Try to get a read on her thoughts and it’s like grasping at a nest of eels. Multiple tracks going a mile a minute. Maybe in another setting you could pry them apart, but you can’t spare the focus now.

“Adrestia.” Her voice is cold, but shaky. Putting on a mask. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“Goodness. Y–you think highly of me, don’t you?” You hold out your arms to the side, no hidden tricks up your sleeves. “What are you still d–doing here?”

She doesn’t relax. “Your little light show went off right when I was collecting my gun. I need to find it.”

“You’re serious.”

“I’m not leaving without it.” She sounds serious. Must be to have resisted your mental push both times.

You shrug, try to play off your concern. “I’ve got my own business, but if I find it… I’ll keep it safe. But it won’t be any good if its owner gets herself killed tonight.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.” You turn away from her. “I can’t speak for anyone else though.” You can already sense them, multiple people are on the stage. Prelude to a fight. What are the odds you can grab the regenerator and slip out while they’re busy killing each other?

Ignore the eyes staring daggers into your back as you clamber onto the stage. “Ah, fuck.” There’s a stare-down going alright. Lady Argent, still in Oryx costume is standing between Shroud and… fuck, that’s one of Hollow Ground’s men. Jake Manalo? Jane’s only encountered him briefly. He’s some kind of boost but hell if anyone can give a straight answer as to what. His thoughts are fuzzy, out of focus. Shroud’s are walled, a barrier with the sensation of metal to touch. Only Argent is readable to any extent. Damn.

Try to skirt around the edge, circle back to the regenerator. Wait. Is that Mortum’s gun on the ground? Can you you grab it without being noticed… No luck. Jake spots you, hunches his shoulders. “Adrestia, come join the party. And step away from the merchandise.”

Argent glances back towards you and everything goes to hell.

Shroud makes her move, going after Argent. Argent dodges the outstretched hand, claws slicing through her gloves as she twists to strike back.

Fuck.

Dash across the stage, to grab Mortum’s gun, tossing the case aside like a candy wrapper. Mortum’s gun doesn’t actually kill people does it? It just… stores them for… later. That’s too handy an ace to ignore right now

Jake has left the two women to duel it out in order to chase after you. But whatever Jake’s got, he doesn’t have a powered suit with booster jets. You dash past him, dropping into a slide under his outstretched arm. You come to a stop by the Regenerator, spin on your heel and drop a knee. If you can take out Jake now, maybe you can abscond with the prize while the other two are duking it out.

How does this damn thing work? Hell, when was the last time you used any gun? There’s a light blinking on the side. Battery? As long as there’s enough charge for one shot. You’ll work out the rest later.

Someone off stage yells as you line up your shot. Hold your breath, sight, finger on the trigger… there’s a loud bang and every nerve in your body lights up in terror.

The gun drops out of your hands, clattering on the stage. How? Why? What is that thing doing here? Taller then any one else here, stretching its multiple arms, both organic and metallic up in the air. In the green haze of your low-light vision it could have stepped directly out of one of your nightmares, but no. Very much real. Very much alive. But… something isn’t right. The Catastrofiend’s movements are sluggish and while her skin was in never in great condition to begin with, it looks… wrong? Melted? Skin or clothing? There’s no seam.

Is… this where the Catastrofiend been all this time? Trapped in Dr. Mortum’s teleportation gun? Did she know that when she asked Jane for help in getting it back?

In the back of your mind the Rat-King screams at you to move.

Dive to the left and a blade stabs the ground where you were kneeling. Mortum’s gun rattles on the floor and you manage the presence of mind to grab hold of it again, clipping it back of your belt. In front of you, the Catastrofiend groans, a sickly bubbling sound as she clutches her vestigal human arms to her chest, her other 4 arms unfold and stretch out. Exposed muscle twining into metal, each limb ending in a long razor sharp blade. Like the rest of her, the blades are warped, discolored, wrong.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

“What the fuck is this!?” Shroud yells. The Catastrofiend gurgles and turns to swipe at her. She leaps backwards, almost toppling over.

You need to get out of here.

“It’s the goddamn Catastrofiend.” Jake snarls. At the sound of his voice, the monster turns and swipes at him too. Something… happens, Jake goes blurry and the blade passes through him like air. No time to think about what that could mean.

Argent snarls, razor claws at the ready. “How the hell did it get in here?” When the Catastrofiend turns to swipe at her, she’s ready, stepping in under the arm, slashing at the skin. Something oozes out, but it doesn’t look like blood.

Is it responding to sound? Can she still see? How the hell long was it in there for? Mortum mentioned something about… quantum degradations right…? Your stomach twists. And you were seriously thinking of using it on someone?

With the Catastrofiend taking precedence, a truce seems to settle out. Jake, Argent, and Shroud triangulating. around her. You’ve seen the monster nearly come out on top against the entire Rangers team at their height before. It’s only a matter of time before they break ranks and run. You’ve seen the Catastrofiend survive being shot in the head, even as… wrong as it is, there’s no way the three of them are beating this.

This is your chance.

Two parts to the device, don’t forget. The briefcase gets attached to your suit’s utility belt next to Mortum’s gun. The prototype itself… it’s bulky, you’ll have to carry it with two hands. You wrap your song tight around yourself, willing the chaos to let you pass by unnoticed. In the back of your mind, you can feel the Rat-King echo you back, magnify the sentiment.

You get your hands under the rough metal edges and heave it into the air. Don’t look. Nothing to see here. Don’t look this way. The battle with the Catatstrofiend is way more pressing, isn’t it? Absolutely.

You don’t breath again until you’re well behind stage. A scattering of items that still haven’t been sold off remain, abandoned in the chaos. They’ll notice you’re gone eventually. But will they have the luxury to chase after you? Banking on your luck doesn’t seem like a smart move.

This part of the Casino is well beyond anything you got to scout in-person as Jane. You’ve spent plenty of time studying the schematics however. You can imagine the red line guiding you alone. Into the backstage hallway, hang a right, there’s a room here. Storage closet. Crouch down just outside and put the prototype aside.

Time to put the Nanovores to work, outstretching your hand against the floor, eating through metal supports and vinyl tiles until the indigestible remains of floor begin to fracture and give way. Slap the floor hard with your hand and it drops into something deeper below.

This part of town is shot through with old smuggling tunnels from the Prohibition era. Illegally dug little boltholes, cramped but big enough to fit crates of alcohol. Earthquake country means they’re near suicide to use. Which is why you spent over a week a making sure this tunnel would be usable.

Never let the enemy set the field if you can help it.

At the end of this tunnel is Rosie and the get-away truck. You’re almost there. you can do this.

Once the hole is sufficiently wide, you pick up the prototype. There’s noise coming from down the hallway. Pursuers or just echoing from the fight? You can’t tell. Doesn’t matter, it’s time to jump. A hole this time, not a window, but your heart leaps into your throat all the same.

Your booster jets dampen the fall, but the shock rattles up every joint along your legs regardless. The cart you had prepared ahead of time is right where you left it, save for a scattering of debris. You put the prototype down on the cart and sweep it clean in one motion.

Take a breath. Home stretch. Next step is to get to the first support joist and start the process of collapsing the tunnel behind you.

The tunnel is damp, and crowded, and dark dark dark. You tap on the clip-on flashlight on your utility belt, a tiny narrow cone cutting into the void. It’s not much but it gives your low-light vision something more to work with.

The floor is lumpy, uneven. It makes pushing the cart painfully slow and uncomfortably noisy. With more time you could have smoothed out the floor, but the time constraint on planning this operation had been absurdly tight as it was. Once your far enough away you can start collapsing the tunnel behind you and it won’t–

Scratches against stone echo behind you and the Rat-king screams for you to move. Only to flinch and clutch your head under the weight of the dampeners pressing back down on you. Something runs across your back and you stagger forwards against the handle of the cart as you cry out. Turn and catch the silhouette of Oryx’s horned mask.

“Are you k–k–kidding me–” You suck in your breath as she swipes at you again, press yourself against the wall as silver claws rend the air where you had just been. Did she cut through your suit? Everything still reads green.

There’s a snarl and you throw your heads up, “Wait, wait, hold on–” If Argent could track you down here, the rest of them can’t be too far behind. “L–let’s talk?”

Argent stares you down, your flashlight bouncing off her silver frame. Shoulders hunched, hands ready to swipe.

“We had a truce.”

She doesn’t relax, but doesn’t attack either. “Only as long as it was convenient.”

“You know w–what’s inconvenient? Getting caught.” The return of the dampeners is a significant problem as well, but Argent doesn’t need to know that one. How did they get them back on so quickly?

The tension drags out entirely too long before Argent drops her hands to her sides. “Then what are you saying?”

“If we fight here we risk them finding us, or worse, damaging this thing.” You gesture behind you. “Let’s… get out of here, then w–we can decide if we’re going to k–kill each other or whatever.”

Argent narrows her eyes, flexing her fingers. Quickest of glances behind her, an opening you don’t take. “Fine.” She sighs, “No tricks, I’ve got your number.”

Oh thank god she can be reasoned with. “Come on, help me push, it’ll go f–faster with both of us.” You move to one side, making space for Argent. She scrunches her nose up, giving you a once over and then steps up beside you, grabbing the handle. Together you trundle through the dark.

“How far?”

“A distance but–” you watch her from the side, “we’re close to a checkpoint I set up to–to–to collapse the tunnel behind me.”

She snorts. “Dangerous.”

“Y–yeah well…” try to keep the emotion out of your voice, “it’d be a bother if someone chased after.”

“Too bad for you.”

“Too bad for me.”

The two of you continue along in silence. Pushing the cart is much easier now with Argent’s help. Silence is dangerous however. Too many unanswered questions, such as: “What uh– what happened with the Catastrofiend?”

“Ran. Chased it, found you instead.”

“W–well… fuck.”

“How did that thing get in there?”

“N–n–no idea.” You lie, more than a little anxious that you can’t pick up whether she bought it or not. You still have Mortum’s gun. Should you– no, no, who knows what else might come flying out. And suppose it did work, what would you even…? No. It’s not an option.

The dampeners begin to lighten as you continue further down, gone by the time you reach a split in the passage, joists in holding up the ceiling. Small miracles. “Hold on.” You brush your head over the frame, nanovores reducing it to dust under your hand. The ceiling begins to shift and you grab the cart with Argent again. “Come on, let’s move.”

“Cute trick.”

Would it be gauche to thank her for? Does she know? This isn’t the time to risk it. You can’t bring Argent straight to Rosie. Too dangerous. No, instead, take the other path as the ceiling collapses behind you. This path ends in a brick wall, easily kicked down.

The room on the other side is pitch black as the two of you clamber through. A basement. Old, abandoned. No sense of any other minds nearby. Once you’re above ground you can just radio Rosie. But first you have someone to deal with.

Argent lets go of the cart, turning to face you. “So we both wanted the same thing. Lucky us.” You can feel it now, without the dampeners to mask everything. She’s desperate for this.

“So…” You stall for time as you try to get a read on her thoughts. “You know what this is, w–what it can do.”

Argent hunches her shoulders, reading to move. “So do you.”

“It needs to–to be assembled.” You reach back to pat the briefcase hanging from your belt. “What, are you planning to set it up at the Rangers?”

“Don’t be absurd. This is black tech.” Argent huffs. “Even my leash has limits.”

“Leash?” You shake your head. No time to unpack that one. “W–well, I’ve got a place to assemble it safely.”

“And you know how to do that?”

“Do you?”

“Whatever, that isn’t even the biggest problem here.” Evading the question? Interesting. Argent pulls off her helmet, shaking out her silver hair with a grimace on her face. “This is.”

You take a step back, cross your arms. “W–what is?”

“Us.” Argent gestures between the two of you, “this is going to take time to bring online. Weeks… maybe?” She shakes her head. “I’m not letting it leave my sight.”

“Same.” Too much is riding on this.

Argent barks out a laugh. “Why? You already have secrets you can lord over me… you know what I did: the masquerade, breaking and entering–”

“Oh please, d–d–don’t be stupid.” You wave it away, “I know the Rangers. You could explain it all away in a heartbeat. Infiltrating a villain hangout? Retrieving black tech? They’ll give you a f–fucking medal.” Is she really that scared of being found out? Why?

“And you? What, am I supposed to just trust someone hiding behind a mask?” Her voice is razor sharp, “You’re a telepath.” You wince under your helmet. “you manipulate everyone and everything around and… I don’t even know what you would want it?”

Her thoughts are barbed, hard to read but… she wants to trust you. Doesn’t want to blow this chance. But why would she? Why would anyone trust you? Ever?

You can’t tell her who you are. Not here, not now. If you were lucky she’d just kill you. She’s earned it, certainly. More likely you’ll have to go into hiding, abandon any pretense of the civilian life you’ve slowly been reclaiming. And that’s… Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do? What keeps holding you back?

Argent is getting antsy. You need to say something before she just goes for it and attacks. Maybe you’d win, but damaging the prototype is a risk you’d rather avoid. You can’t exactly come clean about why you need it either. If she treats you with any modicum of respect now, then it’s because she’s operating under the mistaken assumption that you’re human.

The very thought of risking that, of letting it go. Of never seeing Julia again, or worse– You can feel your heartbeat quicken. Fuck. God damnnit. You’re trapped.

No matter what you do, you’re going to have to trust her with something.

Your hands are shaking as you reach up, find the clasps of your helmet. Across from you, Argent tenses up but doesn’t attack. Why the hell are you doing this? Except – she deserves to know. And what do you have left of your civilian life left at this point anyway? You knew this couldn’t last forever.

The display goes dark as you pop the helmet from the seal, disconnected from the rest of the suit. Your gut twists, a sharp pain as you struggle to keep your breathing under control. You feel sick. Unreal, like you’ve stepped outside yourself. This is such a stupid idea.

You can feel the Rat-King curl around you, trying to protect you from the danger. Joke’s on it, the biggest danger to you here is yourself.

Can barely see as you pull the helmet up, over, hold it in your hands in front of you. In this dim gloom you can’t read Argent’s face, only her mind. Quiet, struggling to process what she’s seeing. She steps toward you and you step back.

“Ariadne Becker.” If there was any doubt about her being able to see in the dark, it’s gone now. All that effort into avoiding her, and you’ve blown it in one go.

“G–got it in– in one.”

Can see her cross her arms through the gloom, shift her weight. “It wasn’t Locus, was it Ariadne?” She snarls. You can feel the fury building up in her head, leaking out through her composure. Didn’t she promise to eviscerate the person responsible?

Die now or die later, might as well jump.

“Y–yes.” You can’t look at her as you say it. “I’m sorry–”

She moves on, grabbing you by the front of your armor claws digging. Panic takes over and you drop your helmet trying to get free, only for white to explode across your vision as your head is rocked hard to the left, pain searing across the right side of your face. Her hand is the only thing holding you upright.

“Don’t you dare try apologizing to me.”

“It– it was w–wrong, I–”

The second slap hits you on the left side of your face, there’s a ringing in your ears, and you can taste copper from biting your tongue. To call her ‘mad’ undersells the storm of emotion radiating off her. Is she going to kill you? Maybe. Of all the beatings you’ve taken in your life, there’s no question you deserve this one.

“I–I–I’m sorry.” You swallow hard, fighting back nausea. “I shouldn’t have– I mean I– I know what it’s– what it’s like and I…” You’re babbling now. Too many words desperate to get out at once.

Her hand comes down again, hard. You can really taste the blood now. “Don’t you fucking dare compare yourself to me.” She growls in your face, as she raises her hand, pulling it back into a fist, and you try not to flinch. Brace yourself. When the blow doesn’t come you open your eyes.

Her hand hovers an inch away from your skin. “You used me.”

“I–I–I did.”

From the corner of your eye you can see her uncurl her fist, fingers slowly elongating into claws, piercing through the glove. “I should kill you.”

“It– It would be… pretty easy right now.” Your heart is pounding, mouth tasting copper, and throat feeling sticky. The Rat–King in the back of your head is screaming at you to do something but this… You don’t fight back, don’t struggle. This is too familiar. Memories of other times, other, brighter rooms. For everything you’ve tried to change, you’re still were you started.

If she did you in now, does the thing you can’t bring yourself to go through with… then isn’t that a victory for everyone really?

“I could do it…” Her hand is shaking, doubts unraveling in her mind. “I should…”

“Then do it already!” You cough, as she lets you go and you stagger backwards, hit the brick wall and try to hold yourself up. “I thought you– why hesitate?”

“Shut up!” She hisses through clenched teeth and comes at you again. This time her hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to send alarm bells. “You really want to die that badly, Becker?” You can feel it running through her head, all the little fantasies she had constructed about this moment.

Your vision blurs as you laugh. “Y–yeah, actually.”

Can feel something sharp poke against your neck, and then just as suddenly it’s gone. Argent hisses air through clenched teeth. “Don’t be a coward.” She touches her other hand to your face, one nail scratching just under your eye.

“W–what?”

“You don’t deserve to get off that easy.”

A line of white fire runs down your face, blinding you in your left eye. Blink, and your vision is back but bloody. You can feel the cut run from forehead to check. Hurts like hell, can already feel the blood running down your face. This is going to need stitches.

She lets go of you, pushing you back against the wall as she steps away. Licking the blood off her finger, she glares at you. “That was for using me. Don’t ever go into my head again.”

You slide to the floor. This… this really just happened. “I–I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” There’s no way you’ll every be able to explain it, is there? But then, it’s not really about you, is it?

“Shut up.” Argent snaps. “You said you can put it together?”

You nod your head. You hope you aren’t over-estimating your ability.

“Then put it together. Don’t even think about double-crossing me on this.” Her smile in the dim glow of your suit’s flashlight is cold and all teeth. “Don’t worry, Becker.” She puts a finger to her lips. “This’ll be our secret.”

She turns away from you and stalks up the stairs to find her way out of whatever building this is a basement of. As she turns she moves her hand from her mouth out to the side, transitioning into giving you the middle finger as she departs.

You sit there against the wall until her footsteps fade and you lose track of her mind. Gingerly you touch a hand to your face, hiss at the fresh sting of pain. Still bleeding. Will absolutely need stitches. Probably end up a scar.

Well, it’s not like you don’t have plenty of experience covering those up.

Except… maybe you’ll let this one be.

#fallen hero #fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #fhr #fhr/Ariadne #mc #dr. mortum #lady argent #shroud #jake manalo #catastrofiend

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fangirlfanwritings · 5 years

Text

Jon x Targaryen!reader Request

Can I request a GoT one-shot, where R is Daenerys' younger twin sister (and the lover of Jon instead of her) and she becomes the new Queen of Westeros? Unlike Dany, she was never so hellbent on taking the Iron Throne, instead devoting herself to helping people (by healing, or killing enemies as she had been trained in art of combat by the Dothraki and Unsullied). People know of her immense kindness and deep regret over her sister's actions - which make her a perfect candidate for the Iron Throne

You sat on your horse behind the troops of men that were ready to storm King’s Landing in your sister’s name. Jon instructed some of the men and made his way towards you. You hopped of the horse and took his hands. “You’re shaking,” he noted.

“The love of my life is about to storm into a war zone...again. I can’t help but be worried.”

“I’ll be just fine.” You nodded and kissed him deeply. He left your side and went to the front of the line, ready for your sister to fly in on her dragon. You wanted to join the fight and, having been trained by the best you knew you could handle it, but your sister and Jon prohibited it.

******

Your eyes went wide at the scene before you. Daenerys flew over the city and commanded Drogon to set it aflame. You wept silent tears thinking about all the people inside the city. You had begged her not to do this. You pleaded with her not to set the city and her people on fire. She promised you she wouldn't do it unless it was necessary. Yet the bells had rung and she did it anyway.

You saw Jon appear from the city walls and you willed your horse to go as fast as you can. You threw yourself down into his arms and cried.

As soon as the city’s flames started to calm you entered with Jon at your side. He sent the Northern men back towards Winterfell, now eager for them to get far away. Ash rained down and looked like snow that you had seen in the North. You blinked back tears, trying not to show weakness. You heard the cries of a child and strayed from Jon’s side. “Y/N.”

You ignored him and let yourself in a charred house. You followed the muttered sound until you saw a small child crouched behind two brick walls that had managed to keep her from getting burned. “Hello, little one.” You knelt down and gently touched her shoulder. She looked up at you with red eyes and dirt on her face. “Are you ok?”

“I can’t find my Mother and Father.”

“Why don’t you come with me, little one.” You took the small child into your arms.

“It’s not safe to come into the buildings,” Jon told you from where he waited behind you.

“Even more reason this child shouldn’t be in there.” You walked with her towards the castle and spoke to the Unsullied. “I want you to split up and search the city. I want all those you find to be politely escorted to the building we are using to treat the injured.”

“Those are for our men, Princess.”

“I don’t care who they are for,” you hissed. “These are my people and they will take priority. They didn’t ask for this,” you whispered the last part. “Take your helmets off and search the city. Insure any citizen found is taken to triage and treated with medical attention.”

You looked to one of your handmaidens. “After I meet with my sister I will be there to assist in healing the people. Send a messenger out to the nearest city to collect extra tools and get toys for the children. They will need something to cheer them up.”

The tone in your voice was one you hadn’t heard in many years. Commanding and ruling wasn’t your passion. You spent your time learning to protect yourself after the years of torture your face, healing those that were hurt, and playing with orphaned and injured children. From what you were much like Rhaegar.

You walked into what was left of the Keep’s walls and saw your sister’s armies lined up and cheering her on as she flew in on Drogo. She stepped forwards as you and Jon made it to the top of the stairs. She spoke with a fire and confidence in her unlike anything you’d ever seen. But you had heard of it before. Viserys had often told stories of your Father and how he had been like this.

You were looking at a Mad Queen.

You looked over to Jon and reached for his hand, squeezing it fiercely.

******

You entered the holding cell Jon was in and took in his bruised face. “Y/N.”

“I came as soon as I heard.” You bent down and ran a thumb gently over his black and blue face. “Why did you do it? Why did you tell them it was you? You could have blamed anybody.”

“I did it for the people,” was all he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I know what she was. We couldn’t have stopped her. What you did,” you paused. “It was for the better. Your siblings should be here in a fortnight. We are going to get you out of here.” You kissed him gently. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

******

You tapped your foot eagerly as you waited for Tyrion and Jon to be brought into the pit. Grey Worm came out with only Tyrion in tow. “Where is Jon Snow,” you demanded.

“He is our prisoner.”

“So is Tyrion, yet here he stands.”

“Jon Snow is out prisoner and will be punished accordingly. He killed our Queen, we deserve his head.”

“There are over a thousand Northern men out there to tell you why killing Jon Snow is a bad idea,” Sansa informed him. “If you want him gone so badly then let him return to the North with us.”

“He needs to answer for his crimes.”

“Jon commited his crimes here. Let our King or our Queen decide,” Tyrion spoke up.

“We have no Queen and King.”

“So elect one.” Your head went on a swivel as you looked at Tyrion.

Grey Worm seemed to accept it. “Make your choice then.” You looked around at your fellow Lords and Ladies, waiting to hear who which of them they would support.

You watched as Lord Tully stood up and began delivering his speech for ruling. “Uncle, sit down.” You couldn’t help but smile at her. She had the confidence in herself. She knew how to lead the people. She would make a great Queen. Just as you were about to vouch for her Bran spoke up.

“Princess Y/N.” He stopped looking blankly into the air and looked at you. “You have lead alongside Daenerys and acted as her counterpart. You tried to keep her on the right path, doing what was best for the people. The people of Westeros have always been your first concern. Those in King’s Landing have saw how you treated those who were injured and cared for those left without a home. Word has spread of your kind nature and tender heart. They will support your claim to the throne.”

“I never wanted the throne,” you informed Bran and the rest of those in attendances. “And after what my sister did I can’t believe that the people will want to see me on the Iron Throne; or what will be placed in its place.”

“The people are already speaking of your kindness and have voiced support for you. They trust you in a way they never trusted your sister,” Sam spoke.

“Princess Y/N, should we agree for you to take the throne will you accept?” You looked at Tyrion and nodded.

“I never wanted to sit on the throne, I wanted to help the people. Now, it would be my honor to rule to provide a better life for the people of the 7 Kingdoms. They deserve better than what the Kings and Queens of late have given them. Should you support me I will make it my mission to see that the people are taken care of.”

“All in favor of Princess Y/N Targaryen please say ‘aye’. You watched as all the Lords spoke up in favor of you taking the throne. Sansa was the last to answer and she turned slightly towards you.

“Y/N, I am happy to consider you my friend. But the North lost many men in the war. They have seen too much to forget and can not kneel to another Southern Queen.” She turned back towards the rest of the Lords. “The North will remain independent, like it was for thousands of years.”

You nodded with a smile. “I accept and look forward to seeing your Kingdom flourish.”

“Then with a unanimous agreement I name you Queen Y/N Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men", Lady of the Six Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

“As my first order I pardon Tyrion Lannister and name him Hand of the Queen.”

“My Queen, I am not worthy. After everything that’s happened…”

“He is a traitor. He needs to be punished.”

“Which is what I am doing. He will be placed to serve in a job he hates until the end of his days. He has made many mistakes and will spend the rest of his life fixing them.”

“What of Jon, my Queen,” Arya asked.

“Jon Snow will be charged with being the Captain of my Queen’s Guard.”

“No,” Grey Worm argued. “He killed our Queen. He deserves to lose his head.”

“He killed your late queen, my sister,” you seethed. “I am your Queen now. You have looked to me for guidance since Dany’s death and I haven’t steered you wrong. Have I?” He stayed still. “Have I,” you nearly yelled.

“No, my Queen.”

“What Jon did he believed was for the better of the realm. That is what my sister believed as she carried out all her action; the actions you followed. Now it is my turn. You and your men are leaving soon, leaving me in need of a man who knows war. Jon is the best we have, whether you like it or not. He will be put to work and will not be allowed to venture back up North. That way he shall no longer have access to a family.” You waited to see his reaction. Realizing he wouldn’t win he nodded.

******

Jon was lead into the throne room and was surprised to see you at the head of steps, his siblings beside you. “Leave us,” you commanded the Unsullied and soldiers. They closed the doors and left you with Jon and the Starks.

“My Queen,” he knelt at the foot of the stairs.

“Rise, Jon Snow, the Commander of the Queen’s Guard.”

“The Queen’s Guard? Grey Worm is letting me keep my head?”

“Due to the Queen’s command,” Arya grinned and hugged him.

He looked sadly at you. “That means we can never marry. I can have no children.”

You stepped down in front of him and smiled. “Haven’t you heard? The new Queen is allowing the head of the Queen’s Guard to have a family. She’s looking forward to it, in fact.”

#jon snow imagines #jon snow imagine #game of thrones story #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #Game of thrones requests

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solarbird · 5 years

Link

What do you know, this does have a chapter two!

Amélie Lacroix used to be the Widowmaker. She's not, anymore. Talon is gone, and the threat is over. But few if any governments are really willing to forgive a known terrorist with dozens - no, hundreds - of kills under her belt, so coming in from the cold wasn't really an option.

But one has to make a living somehow. A lot of the same skills used to infiltrate for assassination work just as well for other kinds of infiltration, and Amélie always did have an eye for spotting value in art.

[ao3 link]

The Queen's Toaster Chapter 2: The Bird Wives

The dark-haried woman took off her Raptora helmet, and shook her head, short hair immediately spiking up, as it always did.

Flying in this is so different, she thought, to flying a jet.

She looked down at the armoured helmet with its beak-like visor and grinned at herself. It may not be the same as a jet, but flying in it brought her even more of a rush, with so little between her and the wind, and the clouds - and the anti-aircraft fire, too.

Grabbing a cleaning kit and a towel, she wiped the helmet clean, dried it, and ran the towel through her own hair for good measure.

That won't do, I need a shower! she thought. But it'll wait 'til I get home.

The base showers didn't bother with hot water. Lukewarm from the ground was good enough, unless she had the option of better, and she did.

She'd just about finished flight training, at long last. Since the end of Talon had meant a second end for Overwatch - at least, for a while - she'd had to do something with her life. And sure, Helix might not be the same, but having regular income again helped make up for it.

That, and the other benefits.

I wonder if these come in orange?

She popped the helmet into her locker, and started dismantling the rest of her armour, pulling it off piece by piece, for storage and overnight checkout before next flight.

"Oh, please - take your time," she heard from the disarmament station behind her. "It's far too nice a job to rush."

Lena spun 'round, surprised, and jinked forward, past two benches. "You're back! Already?!"

Angela grinned, and kissed her younger wife's forehead as she leapt into her arms. "Yes!"

Lena wasn't settling for that, not under any circumstances, and hopped up on her toes, to give her elder wife a proper kiss. "Fuck, I've missed you. Where's Reeha?"

"Talking with your instructor. She'll be here any moment now."

Lena pulled Angela against her, holding her tightly. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Lena. We both have."

The Englishwoman leaned back, smiling broadly, hands on her wife's hips. "How was the conference? How's Winston? How's eep!"

"Come here, tiny wife!" Fareeha said, hauling Lena bodily up into the air as Lena shrieked, giggling, teleporting just to turn in place, not wanting out of her younger wife's arms, but definitely wanting to see her face to face.

"Reeha!"

The two women kissed, as Angela smiled at the sight.

"Your instructor had good things to say - except for your tendency to teleport your way out of trouble."

"And why shouldn't I? 'Use every tool at your disposal,' first rule of combat, you know that." She grinned.

Fareeha licked Lena's nose. "'Don't get into trouble in the first place' is the real first rule of combat, and you know that."

"Yeh, yeh..." She sighed, and put her head down on Reeha's shoulder. "Fuck me, I've missed you so much."

"I will! But not on base."

Lena bit at Fareeha's neck, and Ree snorted, dropping Lena to the ground. "Finish getting undressed first. And shower here. We're taking you out to dinner before going home."

"Oh, are we? I thought we were gonna get some overdue R&R?"

"You have to finish flight training, Captain," Fareeha replied. "But consider this a downpayment. Undress and shower, and be ready to go in five minutes. That's an order."

"Aye-aye, Colonel." Captain Oxton saluted her wife in the most sarcastic way she knew how, and hopped to.

They'd gone straight from their all-too-short honeymoon to a deployment to two separate conferences and training, so there was no way in hell she was going to be late for this.

-----

"She get there?" read the purple text.

"Oh yeah, she got there," Emily typed in reply, in orange text, sitting at her desk in her small office.

Amélie sat out in the living room, on a couch, communicating with her buyer, confirming acquisition and arranging alternate delivery for the package.

"Right where you said she'd be, too. _And_ about to set off an alarm."

"Thanks for picking her up for me," came the purple hacker's reply. "It's not my story to tell, but"

Emily interrupted, the shared cursor turning orange as she typed. "You saying that is hilarious, you do realise, yeh?"

The cursor blinked for a moment, before turning back to purple.

"Yes. It is. I know. But seriously, she's been through a lot. And she was totally going to get busted sooner or later, and I knew it, even if I didn't know how or where All her infiltration training is based around range work. Close up, she has some, but not as much. But she had to deliver on this job, and... well... I had to make sure it happened."

"I know, I know. What's a favour for a friend? Besides, she's _smokin'_ hot. Totally worth it."

"I told you!"

"You told me, but you didn't _tell_ me, luv. Oh god, it's all I can do to keep my hands off her. But then I'd 'find out' about her too early, and... if she's she who I think she is..."

"I didn't tell you," insisted purple.

"You really didn't," assured orange. "But I'm pretty sure I know."

"Then... in that case..."

"Yeh."

Emily shook out her hands. C'mon, girl. Keep it in your trousers. If I'm right, she's one very hot property.

She looked over at the apparently-black-haired woman whose artificial skin colourant wasn't quite enough to keep a blue tinge entirely at bay in the cloudy daylight.

This is going to be tricky enough as it is. You've laid the table, now just let her decide whether she wants to bite.

"Still - if what you actually will tell me is true," she started typing, in orange.

"It is," purple text interrupted.

"...then hey, maybe you won't owe me one. Maybe I'll owe _you_."

"Now _that_," a glowing purple sugar skull replied, "is what I like to hear."

-----

The newlyweds smiled at each other, leaning back in their chairs, relaxing as the dinner plates were cleared, the dessert course ordered but not yet at the table, the three of them sipping tea, qahwah arabiyya, and abricotine, according to their tastes.

Lena wasn't sure exactly when she'd developed her fondness for abricotine, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with joint testimony to the UN in Geneva - or, much more specifically, when she'd had to share quarters with Fareeha and Angela the whole week. Athena had apologised, calling it an 'accidental oversight,' but at least the one bed was a full king. Hana never let any of them hear the end of it, all while stridently denying being the RPF shipper whose name translated from the Korean meant SoManyBunnies.

Despite what everyone at Gibraltar assumed, they didn't start being "a thing" there - but they had become surprisingly comfortable with each other, very quickly. The actual "thing" would start not long afterwards, the three of them hunkered down in the desert, Fareeha wounded but not in any real danger, waiting for extraction after a successful but extremely difficult mission in the Sudan.

They'd a critical hidden Talon information relay and communications centre deep in the Nubian Desert, on desperately-useful information provided by the Widowmaker herself. At first, all three of them thought of that night as a one-off - the stress of battle will do that, after all - but then there was a dinner, and they found they had so much to talk about, then another dinner, and then an after dinner, and...

Well.

Lena's phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her pocket, hoping it wasn't a callback for mission. Talon may be gone, but Helix's work was never done, not with Vishkar out there, and tensions still high between omnics and humanity, and O'Deorain still on the loose, and more.

But instead, purple text reported Package delivered, and the teleporter smiled, before looking up to her curious wives.

"Is it...?" Fareeha asked, hopefully, as Angela looked to Lena, expectantly.

"She's home," Lena replied, relief in her voice.

"Oh good," Angela said, letting go of a little bit of tension she hadn't been fully aware she carried. "I hope this works out. She's been through so much."

"Yeh," Lena agreed, while replying, "Brilliant. Thank you ❤," and putting her phone away. "She really has."

"So have we," Fareeha noted, having mostly forgiven, but entirely not forgot.

"Yes," Angela said, reaching out and holding her taller wife's hand. "Too much."

"It's in the past," Fareeha insisted, squeezing Angela's hand.

"Not for all of us," Lena replied, as dessert arrived. "Particularly not for her."

"No," Fareeha agreed, after a moment. "I suppose not."

"Still, though," Angela said, "she's in... well. I'm not going to say good hands..."

Fareeha chuckled. "No."

"But," Angela continued, "given everything, probably the best available."

"Give 'er more credit than that, love," Lena said, putting aside her apricot eau-de-vie before picking up a piece of the feteer meshaltet, and dipping it into the lovely black honey served on the side. "It's probably the best chance she'll get."

"For your sake," Fareeha smiled, affectionately, choosing the white honey and cream, as Angela chose, in turn, the soft cheese, "...I'll hope you're right."

#gingerspider #speedy recovery #pharmercy #bird wives #polyamoury #the queen's toaster #lena tracer oxton #emily driscoll #amélie widowmaker lacroix #widowmaker #angela mercy ziegler #fareeha pharah amari

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mrneighbourlove · 5 years

Text

A Gerudo Story: Klinge and Zarazu

Zarazu took a breath of fresh air as she stepped off the cart. It was such an inconvenience to travel by horse, but due to Klinge’s distrust of Ba’Puu, he vowed to never ride him, despite how much faster he would have been. The dragon was never too far though; the only time he wasn’t with Zarazu was when he was with his own children. Covarog stepped out after her, taking his wife’s hand as he awkwardly got out of the cart. The first thing he noticed was how humid the area was. Lurelin Village was indeed as tropical as Klinge indicated it would be. The king had not heeded the commander’s word to be dressed accordingly, instead wearing stuffy business attire. It was immediate regret.

“It’s much hotter than I expected it to be, especially around this time of year.”

Klinge got off from the front of the carriage, internally sighing at the King. “Lurelin Village has a unique geography that keeps it in a pocket bubble from the rest of Hyrule. The only time it is cool is at night or when it rains. I brought you a change of clothes in the back.”

“But what about keeping proper business attire?”

Klinge pointed to a group of men approaching, and Zarazu had to stifle a giggle. The tanned hylians lacked any shirts, simply clothed in shorts. The lead spoke in a thick accent, waving his dreadlocks as he walked. “Ah! King Covarog! Thank you for traveling to our village! I hope that the trip wasn’t too bumpy!”

The commander held his tongue. They had traveled through a jungle full of dangerous bugs that had seemingly targeted him, and him alone, to drain him of what little blood he had. It had been anything but a smooth ride. Covarog simply shook his head in light hearted fun. “Ay, a little bity maybe, but we turned out alright. Excuse me a moment, wasn’t expecting it to be so hot.”

The chieftain nodded as he turned to Zarazu. “Ah, you must be the lovely Queen Zarazu! I can smell a fellow ocean lover from a mile away!”

Zarazu giggled at the man’s compliment. This environment felt incredibly nostalgic to her, feeling much like home. The houses were large tiki structures made of tropical wood. A small port held fishing boats and stands full of fresh merchandise. Despite being much smaller, the little village did make her feel at peace. “Why thank you. A man who knows the ocean, knows life itself.”

“I second that my Queen. Apologies that the gathering is for the King’s special touch only, but I didn’t want his lovely wife to feel left out. Please enjoy the charms of our little sunny home!”

“I’m sure I will!”

Covarog finished getting changed in the cart, looking to Klinge. “Look after her, chief bodyguard.”

While Covarog found the notion of Klinge being Zarazu’s personal bodyguard to be rewarding and a safe investment, Klinge had found this to be a massive emotional burden. It was not that he didn’t care for Zarazu. She was his closet friend, whether he cared to admit that or not. No, it was due to how it came about. Ralnor had planted the idea in his brother in order for Klinge to stay out of the prince’s affairs. It kept Klinge on an invisible leash, always staying close to the Queen now. To the king, he would never know the depths of Ralnor’s trickery or Klinge’s contempt. “…You look ridiculous in shorts.”

Covarog frowned, but then shrugged. “At least I can pull them off.”

Leaning up, Zarazu gave her husband a kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you so that we can start to enjoy our time here.”

“Certainly. Have fun with the iron giant here.”

“Will do.”

Klinge shook his head silently at the king’s childishness. Once Covarag and the chief started to walk away, he was surprised to see Zarazu pull him by the arm. “Come on! Let’s go to the market!”

“Must we?”

“Like you have anything better to do? Or do you just want to stand around like a big grump in that unfashionable black armour?”

“… You don’t like the black armour?”

“Not in this environment Klinge. You deserve more colour in your life.”

Klinge paused at that, contemplation filling him. As they walked, he took in the sun glowing down on them. “I find it fascinating that you are so vocal about believing that.”

“Of course Klinge. You put yourself through the wringer so many times for this family - over and over. I want you to enjoy life like anyone else.”

Reaching the dock, Zarazu looked over the fish the locals had caught. They were big and colourful, and some small and exotic. A merchant offered Zarazu some mushrooms, explaining the fish loved them so much that it could help you catch them by hand if you stayed still enough.

“Klinge, do you like traveling with me?”

“Your company is enjoyable Zarazu.”

“That’s not what I meant. With the orders?”

“My orders take me where I need to go. I find purpose in serving my kingdom.”

“As a servant?”

“Because I like the people in it.”

Zarazu smiled brightly and gave a light giggle. She felt that slowly but surely, she was having a positive influence on him. Klinge wasn’t exactly sure why she giggled here and there, but it was comforting. The woman had a light in her that made him feel more at peace. He had never appreciated the value of friendship until the recent decade. Picking out a few arrows from a shop keeper, he exchanged a bag of rupees for them, turning back to his Queen. “And what of you? Do you enjoy this old warrior’s company?”

“Oh, stop that, you aren’t that old!”

“I could be anyone’s great grandfather in this country ten times over.”

“Would you like it if I referred to you as gramps then, hmm?”

“Very well… small child.”

Zarazu waved her hand and laughed. “Fair enough.”

Having bought a mushroom to test the fisherman’s tale, Zarazu continued walking down the beachside with Klinge. “What’s on your mind Klinge?”

“Pardon?”

“I know that something is eating at you.”

Klinge looked around the sky, not a cloud spotted with only the sun to make its shining mark. Looking at the seaside he watched his reflection as he kept walking. This undead black knight with a sword in hand. “I’ve been thinking about how everything has been changing around me.”

Zarazu listened intently, feeling that the tropical heat could put them in a perfect mood for relaxation and opening themselves up to discussion. “Such as what?”

“This Kingdom for starters. I thought I knew everything about it, down to every rock, only for new developments to occur. A partnership like never before blossomed between Ganondorf and Zelda. That gave birth to those beautiful children, flaws and all, a brand new line of Gerudo. It also made me open to new alliances and tribes I never would have made contact with on my own beforehand. And face forces of Darkness that laid dormant. Because if it isn’t Ganon, it’s always something else… If it weren’t Zelda taking the first step, and Ganondorf accepting her hand, I would still be content being a hate filled monster of the blackest hearts. And I’d never have met you on more friendly terms.”

The Queen was confused by that. “More friendly terms? Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh I’m sure you would have still attempted your little raid against the castle to recover your stolen artifacts once you heard the Dark Lord Ganon had taken his hold around Hyrule. Then you might have even teamed up with the legendary hero to stop him, slay whatever forces he had, and I’d fight and die defending my lord, or perhaps wait all over again for the cycle to continue once more.”

“Well, for what its worth, I’m grateful that fate allowed for a better outcome for the world. Is there more to it?”

“Yes… It’s those kids I watched and took care of all these years. They’ve become adults now, some with kids of their own. Kanisa and Tebanam, my …”, Klinge paused himself, not wanting to come across as too possessive or protective. “… they’ve grown up and even left Hyrule. Out of my protection from god knows what.”

“You wanted to kill Vidar and Faris.” Zarazu stated bluntly. She still wasn’t happy Klinge gave into his anger with those two.

“I didn’t try to kill Faris. My heart wasn’t entirely into it. It was more of a test to know he could protect Tebanam when I am unavailable.”

“And Vidar?”

“He was a dog who stuck his nose in places it should never have been… But if Kanisa loves him, and he’s good to her, then she can keep her pet.”

Zarazu chuckled with concern at that statement. “R-right.”

“Yet, as they grow older and move on with their lives, I remain the same…”

“No. I don’t think that’s so.”

“Zarazu?”

She turned to look him in the eye, her perfect smile radiating in the sun. “I think their love for you has changed you. They grew up with you in their lives, and you made an impact on them.”

“For better or for worse…”

He received a flick on the nose of his helmet, the Lorliedain having to stand on her tippy toes to give him that. “Hush. And just listen without going into an angsty self-loathing like some teenage boy.”

“… Continue…”

Zarazu backed up and raised her hands in self defence. “Sorry. Maybe a little too far, but you know I’m a little right. You have so much to be happy for.”

“Humour me.”

“For one, a happier family. You gave them the skills to defend themselves. That type of security is a special thing to have. Not to mention the security you’ve provided, in that anyone can come to you with any problem and you won’t judge them for any personal weakness. You want to make sure that everything is ok for everyone. Deep down, you’ve become a kind person. This kingdom doesn’t need a black knight of war anymore. And I believe you’ve adapted yourself to a happier lifestyle with time.”

Klinge pondered on her words. All the children of Ganondorf had indeed given him new motivation in life. Their quirks had mellowed the undead with time. When was the last time he was so goal focused? Everything was… peaceful. True, there would always be another threat, but it wasn’t his focus anymore. He valued the people that he protected, instead of the mission to do so, more now.

Just outside the village, the two of them reached a channel of water further into the mainland that lead to the ocean. Zarazu found a nice rock to sit on and relaxed as she let her bare feet cool off in the water. Taking the mushroom, she dipped it into the water and waited. Soon enough, a carp swam up, swimming around Zarazu and nibbling at the mushroom. “Hey! Look at that!”

There was that innocence again. She was right, he had become happier with this lifestyle. Klinge finally decided to heed Zarazu’s words, and allow her to be the first to witness a piece he had been preparing.

“You know, there is something I have been working on with some help from Tebanam.”

“Oh? What?”

Klinge took a deep breath and focused his magic. With a snap of his fingers his figure glowed brightly. After the light vanished, he had stripped away his black armour, stepping into the water. “What do you think of this?”

Zarazu turned back and her eyes widened. “Holy Vatra, look at you!”

Klinge’s armour was much brighter, with golden brownish plating. Attached was a old Gerudo loincloth that the first incarnation of Ganondorf once wore. His helmet now had decorative horns and, etched in each, Gerudo writing that spoke his name as a Blade of the Gerudo. Right in the centre of his chest was a bright red emblem of his people. “I take it that you like it. Tebanam had shared ancient designs of our people he has discovered. I’ve been working on this particular set for over a year now.”

“I love it! It’s amazing on you!”

Klinge shrugged, to modest to boast. He felt incredible pride that she enjoyed it though. “Thank you my friend.”

Zarazu pet the fish below her in the water. After feeling its scales, she threw the rest of the mushroom out into the ocean. Rising up from the rock, she smiled brightly, actually able to see her reflection spots on the armour now. “Its very dashing, but still very you. Scary to outsiders, but now you have a symbol to be proud of connecting you to those you love.”

Klinge tapped his sword on his right shoulder plate. “I still have a reputation to uphold you know.”

“I bet you do. Say, would you say your armour is lighter now?”

“Hmmm, I’m not entirely sure. Why do you ask?”

Zarazu grinned mischievously. “Because whoever makes it back to the village has to buy the winner lunch!”

Before Klinge could say another word, the Queen was bounding off. With a light sigh he chased after her, the noise of the ocean waves and seagulls wringing in his ears as he bounded after the Lorliedian. The sun shone down on them as they went back to the village. Zarazu was proud of her friend becoming more and more free with himself.

(Merry Christmas! This gift goes to Lindsay of @ridersoftheapocalypse. Art is done by the talented @dreadlock-detective. She’s the literal best, and I wanted to give you the best. Happy Holidays Everyone!)

#dreadlock-detective #ridersoftheapocalypse #Comments and Reblogs with Comments appreciated!#Christmas Gift #Zarazu #Klinge #Gerudo #Lorleidians

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steviemae · 5 years

Text

the vixen and the bulldog // rm

requested by anonymous: Heyyy my fave Riverdale writer! Could I please request a imagine where it’s homecoming and ur a vixen (and dating Reggie) ans the bulldogs win and u guys kiss and hug and afterwards u guys go to homecoming together and r king and queen while u 2 r dancing together u tell him how proud u r of him for being a good captain and he acts a lil cocky like oh ofc I’m gr8 but u catch him blushing and u tease him. Thank youuu have a great day!

Screaming loudly as you jumped up and down with your pom poms waving, the final buzzer went off signalling that the game was over and the Bulldogs won their homecoming game. The crowd cheered loudly as well, as the bulldogs ran over to the bench, Reggie running right towards you, dropping his helmet before picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You won, baby!” you said with a huge smile on your face. He smiled back, placing his lips on yours spinning you around one more time.

“I always win when you’re around.” he joked.

“That’s not true because you guys lost to Greendale that one day last year and i was there.” you joked.

“That was before we were dating you ass. Doesn’t count.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you, placing his lips on yours one more time.

“I’m staying at Cheryl’s tonight because the girls are getting ready together tomorrow for homecoming.” you said brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“You mean i won’t see you until tomorrow afternoon?” his eyes grew wide and a slight pout made its way to his lips.

“Yes, that’s what i mean. But you can do without me for a night.” you kissed his pouting lips before letting him go, “now go celebrate. I’ll see you tomorrow, handsome.” you said as you turned and gathered your stuff to put in your bag. Reggie smacked your ass as he walked past sending you a wink when you looked up at him, shaking your head with a smile on your face.

The next morning, you and the girls sat around Cheryl’s dining table eating breakfast while brainstorming ideas for hair and makeup.

“I think i’m gonna keep it light. You know Reggie and how he’s a giant goofball which means lots of dancing tonight so i don’t want to keep running off to the bathroom to touch up. So glowy makeup for me tonight and a high pony to show off the open back of my dress.” the girls all looked at you very impressed that you of all people know what you want to do because you’ve always been the one to get ready last due to your indecisiveness.

“Mine will also take the least amount of time, so i can help you guys get ready too!” you said excitedly.

After breakfast, everyone went back upstairs to Cheryl’s room and began scrolling through pinterest for inspiration while you walked out on the balcony to call Reggie because, let’s face it, the two of you couldn’t spend this much time away from each other without going slightly crazy.

“I was wondering when you were going to sneak off and call me.” he said into the phone.

“Hello to you too. Don’t act like you weren’t planning on calling me soon if i hadn’t done it first.” you joked.

“I was indeed because i didn’t get my usual good morning kiss and im kind of upset about that.”

“Aw, baby. I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

You and Reggie chatted on the phone for a little bit longer, before Betty and Toni forced you to hang up and dragged you back inside where the music blasted and the makeovers ensued. You guys danced around singing the lyrics to every song at the top of your lung, into hair brushes and makeup brushes. Laughing and hanging out until everyone was put together and ready to go.

“Picture time ladies!” Veronica yelled once everyone was in their dresses and final touches were done. She set up her phone against the dresser and set the timer before running over and posing with the rest of you. Everyone smiled as the flash went off, Veronica jogging over and smiling at the photo.

“Not to toot our own horn, ladies, but we look fine as hell!” she said showing everyone. The group approved and Veronica posted it as you all headed down to your vehicles to meet the guys for more pictures.

At the dance, everyone was happy. Dancing like idiots all night until it was time to crown this years homecoming king and queen. Everyone gathered in front of the stage, Reggie threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side while placing a kiss on your temple.

“Okay, guys. Now for what you’ve all been waiting for. This years king and queen is, drum roll please,” everyone started smacking their hands against their thighs, “Reggie Mantle and Y/f/n.” the whole crowd cheered as you and Reggie walked up to the stage to be crowned.

“And now for the king and queen dance.”

The familiar tune of yours and Reggie’s song started playing making you give him a loving look, “you asked them to play our song?” you asked as his hands wrapped around your waist, and your arms went around his neck.

“Of course, what else are we supposed to dance to on our final homecoming night as high school kids.” he joked. The two of you slow danced for a second before you looked up at Reggie.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“Nothing, i’m just really proud of you, you know that right?”

“Don’t get all sappy on my now, baby.” he joked, “yes i know. You tell me every day.” he said kissing the tip of your nose.

“You grew from the boy who put girls names in that stupid playbook and became the young man i get to call my boyfriend. You’re captain of the football team and you lead them to be undefeated this year, Reg. i’m so ridiculously proud of you and happy to call you mine.” you said as you played with the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck.

“I did do that, huh.” he said giving you his cocky smirk but you saw the blush creep onto his cheeks.

“Is The Reggie Mantle blushing right now?!” you fake gasped.

“Reggie the Magnificent never blushes, y/n. You know this.” he tried to play off.

“Uh huh, then what that pink tinge there on your cheeks?” you asked as you poked one of his cheeks.

“Alright you got me, okay. You melted my heart a little with what you said.” he pulled you closer.

“I love you, Reggie.” he pulled back, eyes wide with shock because that was the first time either of you had dropped the L word. But then a giant grin spread across his face, making him pick you up and spin you around.

“I love you!” he exclaimed when he put your feet back down on the ground. The two of you shared a kiss as the final chords rang through the room and everyone started clapping and cheering for their king and queen.

#riverdale imagines #reggie mantle imagines #riverdale imagine #reggie mantle imagine #riverdale fluff #reggie mantle x reader #reggie mantle fluff #riverdale #reggie mantle #writing #imagines #steviemae

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thedenofravenpuff · 5 years

Text

The Beginning of the End p2 - Episode Reaction

Alright! Got all hyped up from part 1! Ya’ll know I’m a freaking Sombra fangirl, so that was a sweet arse warm up!

Now let’s DO THIIIIIIS!

S P O I L E R S

Recap *CinemaSins sin noise ding effect*

*Sigh* Even his evil laughter is such a shame with that voice choice... whyyyy?

Shame they gonna run the final season with that intro song that still doesn’t match the imagery with the song in matching pace... so off.

Okay, with this extra energy he’s putting into his evil laughter(tm) at this point is actually kinda good.

Oh gosh, that attempt to tap the pieces together in that way had me laughing out loud.

Just a thought, I wonder how all the Crystal Ponies are faring with their PTSD after last episode.

Okay, that’s a pretty neat creepy imagery with them shadow hands.

Not even one mention of the Tree’s big “inner Rainbow Super Magic Was Inside You All Along” thing from back when with the box and all. But I guess they happily erased that from their memory at this point. And probably needed the Tree for that. Hmm, does the Tree have anything of itself stored in the Map? Is that growing sentience it has shown saved there someway?

And hafta ask by now... how about the Pillars? They still out there and beat villain arses before too. They gotta be useful backup at least to help out, right?

How about the Tree’s roots under the School and its effects on the Student Six? And those artifacts?

Okay, back to watching the episode. Where was I.. ah yes, mandatory Twilight going “And it’s all my fault!”

Actually a pretty good scene of them battling despair after all that confidence. And it’s no longer JUST Twilight having issues.

Dirt at the dirt pone.

Return of Pinkie Drill!!

Oh Rarity. We need a remix of her “show me the MONEY!” misused in every way.

And... he really didn’t let the crystals reach each other UNDER the ground... I guess those crystal surfaces everywhere in the Empire usually makes digging out a less of an easy tactic.

Even the cake decor has been turned evil!!

Oh, I actually forgot the Tree’s job of holding back the Everfree’s growth!

... they seriously gonna try and tame the Everfree... with one gardening tool each? Okay, they truly are scrambling right now.

ONE earth pony is all it took to take down the front gate. The royal guards apparently unable to do anything with their signal horns destroyed.. Equestrian military never gonna be given a chance to look competent, is it?

Really, were ARE they? The princesses are usually gone due to Dumbass in Distress tropes, not from fleeing.

They already lost their gardening tools.

“Come on everypony!” she says... to the animals..

Short actually pretty intense scene of the vines capturing her as she protects the animals. Nice.

Oh, there they are. Actually came in to try and help. Neat.

Gasp! Starswirl DID show up?? Does this mean...? *Looking around* No..? No other Pillars? Aww..

Actually pretty sweet powermove there, Starswirl.

Ahahahah! Evil controlled Wonderbolts!

So many background pony cameos.

Yaaas, those control helmets~ I’m mostly all up about them because headcanons and Glimmershine’s background story. Let me have my fun.

Kinda love how only Fluttershy is seen smiling at Discord’s sudden appearance (and possibly his joke too). Aww. Besties.

Poodles.

Redecorating with Sombra: Black Crystal Everything.

As much as Discord’s petty speeches can get annoying, I’m highly amused by Sombra’s repeat attacks with no change in tactic just get twarted by turned into something different by Discord each time.

Callback to how Discord loves to try pass attention to Fluttershy to- AAAGH!! LOWERED GUARD, SELF SACRIFICE TO TWART OP DRACONEQUUS BACKUP!!

... hoow... does dark magic hurt a creature which barely holds proper physical anatomy?

Sombra back there in the background being all “Oookay, rude interrupting my monologueing, but I... guess I’ll let you have your moment? Is okay, guess I’ll just get back to gloating once you’re done.”

Okay, loving the visual of being able to see Sombra in the back making his way towards them despite not centered and kept blurred.

That Deflecting Magic Headspin looked hella badass right there.

“We shall never stop trying to defeat you! At some point you’ll just have to quit just out of annoyance!!”

Oh gosh, Sombra’s faces he’s pulling, he looks like he’s fighting to not get into a cryface and yell “it’s not fair, yer cheating!!”

Aah.. AAAH! AAAAAAAHHHHHH!! Twilight wavy Alicorn mane! She gonna evolve!!??

Woah... That visual of Sombra was surprisingly unsettling. Full on Thanos dusting yet with some distortion too. Neat.

Pretty sure that was the last thing the Sisters expected to walk in on.

Also, aww, no new evolution for Twilight. YET. I’m having a pretty good guess what might go down at least in the finale finale. They ain’t gonna tease us like that without finally giving Twilight the full alicornification at the end!

Well, that’s the smartest thing you have said YET, Princess Sunbutt. Also DUUUH!

Ah, that’s how Discord somehow got that badly hurt. At least that’s a pretty good excused compared to other cases of needing to put OP’s aside to let the Mane Six save the day. Heh, oh Discord. He try. His own way. Kinda counts.

Oh Discord. For some reason, that’s greatest exit I have ever seen him do XD

“I heard that!”

I have an odd fascination with following how Twilight’s bangs bounce whenever she spins her head from side to side.

Huh... I’ll admit I actually thought Sombra’s arc would purely be the first parter and then the Foul Five would get together for part two. Actually excited to see I’m wrong. We’ll get a full season worth of villain plotting ahead of us this way instead, and Sombra got a lot more screen time this way to make up for his past appearances didn’t even give him any proper lines. Heck, the ponies don’t even know yet Grogar is around or that Tirek and Cozy Glow are free from Tartarus, or that Sombra can be resurrected by Grogar at any time. Actually a neat setup, while we are usually used to seeing villains destroyed around same episodes they were revealed.

Ahahahahagah!! She actually got them herded into a (-n attempted) bonding exercise!!

Ahahaha, that suddenly letting go to hide they were holding hands/hooves!

Foul Four works better too anyway. But aww..? no more Sombra......??

Okay, wow, this season start was... something. Wow.

Didn’t meet ALL expectations, but also managed to throw the viewers in for a loop. Which is nice as that worked GREAT for last season finale. I like things ain’t 100% predictable. A lot felt rushed, missing a few steps in logic and a bit of a feeling of a mess, but not sure how much of that is my current migraine interfering. Still, I liked it! Really adored the appearance of Sombra, but saddened by it shown as his last return with Grogar’s comment.

Will admit, I’m a sucker for an over-villain who can keep the rest of the power houses in check. Grogar isn’t how I would imagined him, due to the popular fan depictions over the years. His loss in volume loses a bit of his intimidation factor. He used to be played up as the actual goat devil, but I understand down playing that a bit in modern kids entertainment, I guess.

Chrysalis was a great letdown in last season, I really hope she gets a chance to shine again. She’s a good villain in her own right when allowed the proper resources and to actually show her skills for intimidation. Which, again, makes her loss of that creepy voice a great loss indeed.

I look forward to see what plans Grogar has for all three of them.

For now, I applaud this start of the finale season. Looking forward to see where they’ll take it. My guesses are this season will feature Twilight’s lessons to prepare for her eventual rise to the throne. Which probably will happen at the last season finale, along with full alicornfication with floaty mane and everything.

We’ll see. For now, I’m pleased. My fangirl side for King Sombra has been quite happy with this double feature of him, both with the good and bad of it.

#PuffBlog #MLP #MLP Spoilers #FiM #FiM Spoilers #Spoilers #The Beginning of the End #The Beginning of the End Spoilers #Season 9 Spoilers #Episode Reaction #Puffy Reacts #Part 2

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