#with the fury of two colliding black holes

[sweetblinginrose]

𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗻𝘂𝘁,

(Billy Hargrove x fem¡OCMayfield)

Samantha Danielle Mayfield finally decides to move to Hawkins with her sister and mother, as well as her mother's new husband and his arrogant son, William "Billy" Hargrove. What they are unaware of is that, gradually, these step-siblings will discover that the line between contempt and passion is more fragile than they supposed, and what begins as shared hostility turns into an intense and undeniable attraction that both find themselves unable to reject.

warnings: read at your own risk, as it includes a continuous sexual environment, profanity, mention of death and suicide, stepsibling relationship, sex, and all its derivatives.

autor’s note: this work is entirely my own creation. that is to say, i have not based it on anyone else, so any resemblance to any other work is purely coincidental, as i have been using this format for all my stories since 2019. i hope you enjoy the story. if you find any translation errors, something you don't understand, or similar, please let me know :p

Chapter one

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter two: Fade To Black - Metallica

Neil and the sisters' mother had left for California, as they needed to handle some paperwork related to the Hargrove family's old residence. It was important to have an in-person conversation with the lawyer. Consequently, they would be back in less than a couple of hours. For Sam, this translated to the freedom to sleep all day without being bothered by anyone.

At eight o'clock in the morning, the couple woke up the boys to inform them of their departure, mentioning that they would return in the early morning. After that, everyone seemed to fall back asleep. The older siblings were tasked with supervising Max, a duty that didn't seem challenging.

Samantha easily slipped into sleep. Final exams had concluded, summer vacation was around the corner, and the air conditioning in her room promised refuge from the summer heat. She discarded her pants, leaving her in underwear and an oversized T-shirt, and nestled under the sheets in an idyllic climate. However, the teenage girl's perfect plan was interrupted when, in her dream, Billy emerged wearing his ridiculous oversized blue tracksuit. This time, it appeared even more comically large, and the music blared until it felt like Sam's eardrums would burst, abruptly waking her up. The strident melody wasn't part of her dream; it emanated from the room next door. Billy's room.

The volume was excessive.

Sam tried to ignore it, not wanting any confrontation today. In fact, she had considered completely ignoring Billy's existence during this period. She attempted to drown out the sound with her pillows, but after several failed attempts, she jumped out of bed, ripped off her sleep mask, and flung it to the other side of the room. It collided with a poster featuring Tom Cruise's face, adorned with lipstick marks on his massive cheek. Angrily, she grabbed the clock that read nine-thirty in the morning.

"Does this imbecile have no brain?" she muttered aloud, delivering a blow to the alarm clock. The battery popped out, rolling under the bed.

With resounding steps, she marched toward her door, which she flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall, enlarging the existing hole with each slam. But that was inconsequential at the moment. What truly mattered was throttling Billy until he was breathless. Samantha advanced down the hallway, possessed by rage, until she reached her stepbrother's door. She pounded on it frantically, demanding that he either lower the music volume or turn it off altogether. After a series of forceful knocks and numerous unanswered shouts, she decided to swing the door open abruptly, not anticipating the scene that awaited her on the other side.

"Billy, I'm sick of you blasting music at these hours... Oh, crap!" Sam burst into the room, her eyes narrowed in fury, words pouring out rapidly. As she opened her eyes wider, she was met with an unusually peculiar sight...

The expanding wave of moans and lascivious sounds, both male and female, was unleashed, intertwined with powerful music, completely flooding the house, not limited only to the bedroom. Among these gasps, those of a blonde who shared Billy's presence stood out. The young woman lay naked, reclined on the bed, which, along with the sheets, seemed to inexorably slide down, although at that moment, surely, that was not her main concern. Although her bust was quite small, it bounced in an unexpected way. They looked like...flan. Billy's fingers sank into her waist, squeezing with an intensity as if his life depended on them. However, the problem was that Sam had caught Billy in the act of carnal activity, that is, fucking. She had contemplated the sweat that soaked his body, slightly dampening his hair, adhered to his forehead and neck; the deep growls that escaped from his lips; the vigorous and fast movement of his hips and the roar that emanated from them; the expression of concentration that manifested itself in his firm bite on his lower lip, and in his eyes, those that said everything, which met Samantha's just as she opened them, unleashing an involuntary scream from both of them.

"Damn it, Samantha! Don't you know how to knock on the damn door?! Get lost!" he exclaimed with a startled and hoarse voice, covering himself as best he could with the sheet that, as it fell with the girl, didn't mind at all that his companion was completely uncovered. He quickly threw a magazine, which landed right on the young woman's shoulder, who closed the door probably at a speed faster than light.

Samantha was frozen, contemplating the white wooden door, marked with several scratches and holes from the punches given by Billy's anger from the inside, reflecting on what had happened and how to erase that moment from her mind.

"Holy shit..." she gasped. It was the only thing that could come out of her lips at that moment.

"What's going on?" Max asked behind her, yawning and startling her, almost causing her a heart attack.

"I just woke up because of the screams. Are you fighting again?" she innocently asked her older sister, assuming that everything came down to a usual argument, and without hesitating to side with her.

Sam nodded and smiled. That was all she did.

"Why don't you prepare breakfast today? I... I have to go to the bathroom, yes." The young woman sneaked off, reaching the bathroom and closing it with a bolt, leaning her hands on the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. She began to lift her shirt and compare herself with the figure of the blonde she had seen, because Sam believed her breasts were small, but upon seeing them, she changed her mind. What Samantha ignored was that her distorted perception of her body was leading her to see herself that way, given the insults received from her former friends and, now, Billy, when in reality she had an enviable figure.

After washing her face, she decided to use the toilet before going to breakfast, realizing that she had wet her underwear while remembering the scene with her stepbrother. She couldn't believe it. It all seemed like a lie to her.

"What's happening to me?" she wondered, putting her hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

A few moments later, Sam perceived voices coming from the bathroom window that faced the street. She interrupted her actions to look out cautiously, watching as the young blonde, whom she had seen in Billy's room just minutes ago, had a heated argument with her stepbrother, who had just received a slap.

"You promised me we would be alone, you jerk," the girl's voice echoed in the distance as she got into her car and drove away from the Hargrove residence, extending her middle finger in a defiant gesture through the window, gradually disappearing on the horizon. Samantha felt a deep relief confirming that the girl had left. She exhaled deeply and left the bathroom with the intention of tasting the aroma that had attracted her so much: waffles freshly made by Max. However, upon leaving, she came face to face with Billy, who appeared before her wearing only a towel around his hips and a cigarette between his lips. His skin was so covered in sweat that it gave the impression of having just emerged from the shower.

"Move," he demanded with authority, firmly grpping the girl's arm and moving her on his own, making one of her breasts rub against his wet bicep.

"Don't touch me, Billy," threatened the girl, a little uncomfortable with everything that had happened earlier, walking away from there towards the kitchen.

#Spotify #step brothers #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #stranger things #stranger #things #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x original character #billy hargrove #billy #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #william hargrove #neil hargrove #hargrove #max mayfield #mayfield #fanfic #enemies to lovers #oc character #oc #new in tumblr

[hey-its-puddlesock]

And Puddles said, "let there be Sasha angst" and it was done

Taglist: @aldriix, @happi-tree, @elle-cosmic-chaos, @darcysd20, @monarch2800, @yourpersonaltimebomb, @sylsoddsandends,@your-local-hurt-comfort-junkie-1, @reyraccoon, @useless-space-rock-lesbians, @watermelon-converse

Send an ask if you'd like to be added!

“Me and Grime will hold him! Just go!”

Sasha knew as she said it that it was a futile effort. The king stood towering above the both of them, his sword swinging wildly in a blind fury. But she could give them time. She could get her girls home.

As she charged the leviathan, she was vaguely aware of Anne and the frogs stumbling over to where Marcy knelt on the ground, box in hand. Andrias whipped around, his tail colliding with her chest and throwing her against the palace wall. She felt ribs crack as her head whipped back into the concrete with the impact, making her vision go fuzzy. The scrap of logic left in her adrenaline-fueled body told her to stay down, to give herself a moment to recover. But logic has no place on the battlefield.

Instead she shoved herself off of the ground, swords gleaming at her sides as she ran towards the king. As her vision cleared she realized with horror that Andrias was charging Marcy; that his sword was pointed directly at her back, that she couldn’t see him coming…

“NO!” with an inhuman burst of strength and speed, Sasha closed the distance between her and her friend. She tackled Marcy out of the way, sending her sprawling as the box skittered across the floor. For a moment she stood triumphant, proud to have done something right for once.

But the moment didn’t last. As soon as she’d pushed Marcy out of danger Sasha’s vision went gold. A searing pain in her chest made her look down, her confused mind taking a few moments to register the glowing sword sticking through the side of her ribcage. She looked up again, her eyes meeting Marcy’s before panning over to Anne’s. They both stood in horrified shock, mouths agape as they watched Andrias pull the sword back out through Sasha’s armor, leaving a charred hole through the side of her body. She looked pleadingly at Anne, hoping that her sacrifice could at least begin to make up for the hurt she’d caused.

“…stay safe,” was all she managed to choke out before her legs collapsed underneath her, her ears barely processing two panicked voices screaming her name.

“This is not the host we asked for,” his master’s voice echoed in his mind, vibrating impossibly loud in his skull even though no words were spoken out loud.

“Apologies, my lord, there were… complications.”

Between them sat an upright cylindrical tank filled with translucent pink liquid. Inside slept a girl dressed in a tight black bodysuit, her long blonde hair free of its usual ponytail and floating freely above her head. Tubes and wires connected to her body at various points, a mask over her face artificially filling her lungs with air.

“This vessel is pathetic,” the Core snarled, its voice dripping with disgust. “You cannot expect us to inhabit a host that doesn’t even know the difference between a pawn and a wart. Her mind would be an embarrassment to add to our collected consciousness.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” Andrias knelt before his master, head bowed as he pled his case. “Do you really need another mind? I know that the other host would have been preferable, but this one is much more physically capable. Her heightened strength and speed could be an asset to you.”

The Core pondered for a moment. “You are correct in your observation that we do not need another mind, but for the greatest minds of history to be contained in the bearer of Strength…”

“I understand, my lord,” Andrias sighed.

“What happened to Wit?” the Core’s voice was sharp, accusatory.

Andrias kept his head low, fighting to keep the anger and shame rising in his chest from showing. “She escaped, my lord. After Strength fell the toad commander went on a rampage. He tore through the majority of my defenses before Wit was able to calm him enough for the both of them to escape on her bird mount. But I have a feeling I know where they’re headed.”

“Hmm…” the core stirred in its alcove, reaching a mechanical feeler out and running it along the glass of the rejuvenation tank. “Your mistakes have cost us, but the plan will continue. Seek out the Wit bearer. If you cannot find her before it is time for the transfer we will proceed with Strength.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Andrias bowed deeply to the ground before pushing his enormous frame up and heading toward the stairs. He spared one last glance at Sasha, lips curling in disgust as he watched her unconscious form floating in the pink-orange glow of the basement. “A would-be usurper who betrayed her friends for power. I’m glad it was you instead of Marcy,” he murmured as he turned again to leave. “This is no less than you deserve.”

Inside the tank, unnoticed through the pink liquid surrounding her, a single tear slipped down Sasha’s cheek.

Joe Sparrow touched down softly on the castle balcony, his feathers stirring up soot and ash as he deposited his passengers. Marcy and Grime dismounted with trepidation, the lack of robot guards around the entrance unsettling.

“Do you think this is a trap?” Marcy whispered, scanning the horizon for any sign of pursuers.

“I don’t care if it is, we’re getting her out,” Grime whispered back, his face set with grim determination.

Marcy had noticed a lot of changes in the toad commander over the last few months. Ever since that day when Sasha fell cold and lifeless to the palace floor, he’d become much more reserved and calculating. She could tell there was still white-hot rage burning behind his eyes, but it was concentrated toward a single goal. A couple weeks prior she’d found him sprawled in a backroom of the resistance headquarters, surrounded by empty cans of bog grog and sobbing for his lost tadpole. She’d never told a single soul how she’d helped him up and carried him to his quarters, and if Grime remembered the incident he hadn’t said a word.

The two of them crept through hallways that seemed to be untouched since the day they’d escaped the palace. Thick layers of dust coated everything, and the light filtering through once-beautiful stained glass was blocked by a heavy coating of soot.

The odd pair made their way deeper into the bowels of the castle, both on constant alert for guards that never came. The eerie quiet persisted until they made it to the basement trapdoor that Marcy remembered from her sleepover with Anne all those months ago.

Marcy silently motioned to Grime to follow her, the both of them carefully picking their way down the unlit staircase. Marcy didn’t dare pull out her phone flashlight for fear of alerting someone to their presence, so she steadied herself on Grime’s shoulder pauldron and silently begged whatever god was out there that she wouldn’t fall down the stairs again and give away their position.

They made it to the bottom without incident, the eerie hallways illuminated with the glow of shadowfish as they made their way to the vaultlike door on the far end of the basement.

“According to the info Olivia and Yunan gave us this should be it,” Marcy whispered, more to herself than anyone else. She hastily flipped through her notebook, scanning over the instructions that she had long since memorized. “You ready, captain?”

Grime gave a grim nod before leaning his considerable weight against the stone at the door, pushing it aside to reveal a chamber bathed in an eerie pink-orange glow.

“Sasha,” Marcy breathed, all but forgetting the stealth their mission required as she stumbled across the room to her friend. She ran a hand along the glass tube, Sasha’s unconscious form and too-pale skin making her breath hitch in her throat. “Grime, help me get her out of here,” she pleaded across the room, keeping her voice as quiet as emotion allowed.

With the toad’s help they were able to life Sasha out of the tank, resting her gently on the floor before Marcy carefully began removing her tubes and oxygen mask.

Sasha coughed, viscous pink liquid dripping from her mouth as she blearily opened her eyes. “Mar-Mar? Annie?” she mumbled. “Hey girlfriends, good to see youuu…” her tired voice dropping off as her eyes closed once more and she collapsed onto Grime’s shoulder.

“We’ve got to get her out of here,” Marcy whispered, unpinning her cloak from around her neck and gently draping it over Sasha’s shoulders. “Who knows when Andrias could—“

“When I could what, exactly?” A deep baritone voice coming from a figure in the doorway made Marcy’s blood turn to ice. Andrias stood with his arms folded behind his back, face pulled taut in an unamused smirk. “Really, Marcy, for someone so smart you’re lamentably predictable.”

Marcy tightened her grip around Sasha’s shoulders, who was starting to wake up again and looking dazedly around her. “How—” was all Marcy could manage to choke out.

“Simple. We’ve been watching you this whole time.” As he spoke, an enormous mechanical monster emerged from the shadows, all ten of its eyes glowing poisonous orange.

Sasha was finally beginning to become coherent. “What the heck is that thing?” she mumbled, staring at the abomination with unfocused eyes. The monster let out a roar like grinding gears and squealing metal, claw-tipped tentacles reaching for the air.

“My lord, are you certain?” Andrias said, responding to a voice unheard by the others in the room. “We have Wit here, is this not what you��okay, yes. Yes, I understand.” He looked back to the two humans and toad who sat huddled together on the basement floor. With a snap of his finger, two robot guards appeared from unseen hiding places in the wings, restraining Marcy and Grime and pulling them away.

“Sasha!” Marcy cried, struggling in vain against the robotic arms that held her pinned in place. Sasha looked to her with a small pout, no doubt still in a haze of groggy confusion. Before the blonde could reach out for her friend, the mechanical beast shot out one of its claws, grasping her tightly by the chest and yanking her towards it.

Grime and Marcy both screamed Sasha’s name as the girl was deposited on a raised coral throne, ankles and wrists shackled before she could even begin to struggle. She pulled against the restraints, grunting with the effort. “Let me go!” she screamed, a bit of lucidity finally returning to her voice.

Andrias’s face twisted into something between a smug grin and a grimace. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sashy,” he drew out the nickname like he was reciting the name of a deadly disease. “My master needs a host, and under current circumstances you’re the best option.”

“Host? Wha—” before Sasha could continue snakelike wires shot out from the throne, connecting to nodes on her arms and legs. “What—Andrias you bastard, what are you—” she writhed in a violent struggle against her restraints as the king looked on apathetically.

Marcy likewise squirmed against the frobot’s grasp, but the machine was much stronger than her, and with her arms pinned she couldn’t do anything to level the playing field. She was forced to watch in horror as a polished black helmet descended from a hatch in the ceiling towards Sasha’s head.

As the helmet came down, Sasha looked to Marcy with an unfamiliar expression. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears, her pupils constricted. Her mouth was slightly agape and Marcy could tell from her movements that her breathing was quick and shallow. For the first time in their lives, Marcy could tell that Sasha was afraid. They locked eyes for a single moment before the helmet completely covered her vision.

And then the screaming began.

Marcy had heard Sasha scream before. She’d heard her faux-enthusiastic cries from the sides of the football field when she cheered at school games. She’d heard her short, startled yell when one of the girls caught her off guard. She’d heard the horror movie scream imitation that Sasha had practiced to perfection. She’d never heard this. Sasha’s scream was terrifying and heartbreaking all at the same time. The raw, painful screech made Marcy almost sick to listen to, and yet she looked on.

The mechanical creature behind Sasha slowly drained of power and energy as long lines of binary code transferred down the wires and into her body. The screams quieted, and then completely stopped as the machinery around her went dead. Sasha slumped forward in the throne, more still than the day she had fallen in the throne room.

Andrias snapped his fingers, prompting the frobots to release their grasps on Grime and Marcy. Marcy stood frozen in place, her mind wanted desperately to go to her friend but her trembling limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Grime had no such inhibitions. The second his feet touched stone he dashed up to the podium where Sasha lay limp and placed a firm hand on her shoulder as the shackled on her ankles and wrists unlocked.

“Lieutenant,” he begged. “Sasha, wake up,” Marcy could hear a hint of panic in the old toad’s voice as he shook the girl by the shoulders. “Sasha pleas—”

Grime was suddenly cut off when Sasha’s body snapped upright, her fist seizing the toad by the neck before he could react. She held him aloft, a wicked smile stretched along her face. The helmet glowed a sinister orange as ten eyes regarded him maliciously. “You were right, Andrias,” she said, her voice overlayed with an unfamiliar robotic chorus. “This vessel is strong. We’ve made a wise decision.”

The thing puppeting Sasha’s body tossed Grime to the side, descending from the coral throne as he crashed into the wall with a sickening crunch. He lay unmoving as Sasha stepped down, the helmet’s eyes darting back and forth to take in the room. Suddenly her head swiveled and Marcy felt the heat of ten eyes boring into her.

“Why, hello there,” Sasha grinned.

#amphibia #amphibia fanfic #sasha waybright #marcy wu #grime amphibia #role reversal au #it's angst time boys #ask me about the title on this one #i'm really proud of it i think it's very clever #girl help sasha got stuck in the strawberry lemonade again #amphibia fanfiction #amphibia fic

[rocorambles]

A King and His Knight

Pairing: Oikawa x Female Reader, Oikawa x Reader x Iwaizumi

Genre: Yandere, Slight NSFW

Warnings: Yandere, Rape/Non-con, Violence, Mindbreak

Summary:  You weren’t wrong per se about Iwaizumi being a knight in shining armor, but you forgot to factor in that a knight always serves a king and Iwaizumi’s king will always be Oikawa.

You look like an absolute mess. Bruises are beginning to form around your throat and left cheekbone, buttons are missing from your blouse, and mascara is running down your face as you sob. But that doesn’t stop you from running as fast as you can on trembling legs, desperate to get away from the monster hidden behind a charming smile and chocolate brown eyes. 

You had been so flattered and ecstatic when the star setter of your volleyball team had started talking to you. Which girl at Aoba Johsai wouldn’t be? Oikawa was handsome, charming, and athletic and you didn’t think to question anything when he randomly began chatting with you between classes. You didn’t question him asking to eat lunch with you. You didn’t question him walking you to school. No doubt ever crossed your mind as he slowly began weaving himself more and more into your life until it seemed like the two of you were never apart. 

But that changed today when Oikawa asked you to stay and wait for him after his volleyball practice. Like always, you said yes without any hesitation and patiently waited for the tall brunette outside of the gym. You bid farewell to the rest of the team as they filed out before you went inside to find your new friend who patted the seat on the bleachers next to him. Seated side by side, you look at him questioningly and are met with a gaze full of hopeful anticipation as Oikawa asks you to be his girlfriend. You can hear the clocks on the gym walls tick as your heart sinks. Yes, Oikawa was the dream boyfriend for a majority of the females at Seijoh, but not for you. 

Nervously biting your lip, you gently let the boy down, trying to soften the blow as much as you could, saying you’d still love to be friends and that he’d find a girlfriend in no time with how popular he is. But Oikawa is motionless and with his face turned down, you can’t see his expression so you aimlessly ramble on until you’re shell shocked into silence when Oikawa finally lifts his head to look at you. There’s no smile, there’s no flirty wink, there’s only pure malice that makes your heart leap into your throat in fear. Your flight or fight instincts triggered, you make to stand up when Oikawa lunges at you and you both go crashing onto the bleacher floors. His hands are around your throat and you are terrified as you frantically fight to breathe. “You, bitch! I did everything right. I did everything a good boyfriend should do. I wasted so much time and effort on you and you have the fucking nerve to reject me?” You barely register the seething words falling from his lips as black spots begin to blur your vision and you feel like you’re about to faint from the lack of oxygen when suddenly his grip loosens and you gasp, spluttering for breath as you try to scoot away from him. A bone crushing grip on your ankle stops you from moving too far as he stares at you. “I’m going to give you one more chance. Will you be my girlfriend?”

Now that you can finally breathe and begin to register everything that’s happening, fury rages inside you. How dare he try and bully you into a relationship with him? You glare at him as you spitefully tell him you'd rather die than go out with a psychopath like him. But your hackles raise as Oikawa breaks into a belly bursting maniacal laughter at your fighting words and you’re so distracted by the absurdity of the situation that you don’t have time to react before a hand is powerfully striking you across your face. Literally knocked to the ground, you sob from the pain and shock of being hit and your mind is reeling to come to terms with what’s happening as strong hands drag you closer to a warm body. His hands are savagely ripping the top of your blouse open as he pins you to the ground, kissing and biting any inch of skin he can reach with reckless abandon. It’s pure luck that in your frantic flailing motions you’re able to kick his injured knee hard enough that he rears back from you in pain and you take that opportunity to bolt out the gym doors, through the school gates, and down the streets of your neighborhood. 

You’re running out of breath and your muscles and lungs begin to ache with the need to rest when you see a familiar head of spiky hair walking in front of you and you cry out his name. Startled, Iwaizumi turns around to see who’s calling for him and a look of horror flashes across his face as he takes in what state you’re in. He lets you crash into his arms as you sob into his chest and tell him everything that happened. Iwaizumi has always been kind. He’s always been the voice of reason, a pseudo-parent to the rambunctious boys on his team, a natural leader others look up to. Surely you can trust him to help you, you think to yourself, as you bury your face in his chest and continue to cling onto his strong muscular build. Unknown to you, as you find comfort in the vice captain, he is opening his phone and shooting a text message behind your back before quietly slipping the device into his pocket and wrapping his arms around your trembling frame.

He treats you to a cup of tea at a local cafe and the two of you talk about lighter topics as a way to distract you. Soon enough you’re both laughing and you feel more at ease. It’s growing late, but you don’t want to go home just yet, afraid of bursting into tears again at the sight of your parents. Seeming to sense your hesitation, Iwaizumi asks if you want to hang out at his place for a bit. It is a Friday night after all and there’s no school tomorrow. His parents are also out of town, so there’s no one to worry about bothering. Convinced, you shoot your own parents a text letting them know you’d be home late before walking side by side with the ace.

When you arrive at his house, he tells you to make yourself at home and you both deposit your school bags before getting some snacks and drinks from his kitchen. You make your way to his bedroom where all his game consoles are, but you freeze when you swing open his door. There laying on Iwaizumi’s bed is Oikawa and he’s staring at you with a feral grin on his face, eyes twisted with rage. You try to turn and run back out the room, but instead you collide with a hard chest and your face pales as you look up into emotionless green eyes. Iwaizumi easily picks you up with one arm and slings you across his shoulder as he closes and locks the bedroom door behind him and tears begin to fall from your eyes when you hear the resounding click of the lock. 

Maybe afterwards, when every single one of your holes is stretched out, when it feels like there’s no more tears left for you to cry, and when you agree to be Oikawa’s girlfriend just to make it all stop, you’ll realize how foolish you were to run to Iwaizumi. You weren’t wrong per se about Iwaizumi being a knight in shining armor, but you forgot to factor in that a knight always serves a king and Iwaizumi’s king will always be Oikawa. 

But for now, you lie there on Iwaizumi’s bed, your upper torso held up by the ace as he encircles your waist with toned arms and hooks his chin over your shoulder while Oikawa brutally thrusts into your aching pussy. You lie there as Oikawa persuades Iwaizumi to participate and together they stuff you fuller than you’ve ever felt before. And you lie there, reluctantly losing yourself to pleasure as your body is thoroughly used over and over again.             

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #tw: noncon #tw: rape

[remmushound]

Beyond the bay part 21: Trouble in paradise

Summary: Raph encounters a friend

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @dakotafinely

Content warning (more severe warnings will be colored red so triggers can be avoided while reading) - swears, violence, blood, capitals/bold, passing mention of r*pe, mentions of lynching, mentions of Murder, mentions of violence involving a child

It was Raphael’s decision to split the team into thirds. Three patrols, split evenly between teams of two. They could get the patrol done three times as fast as they could otherwise, even if not everyone was happy with who they were paired with. Raph had been hoping to get paired with Raphael or Michelangelo— hell, he would have even been happy with the younger, weirder theatre version on Donnie! The only one he didn't want to get paired with was the one he was paired with: Leonardo. He didn't have anything against the kid but, to put it bluntly, he was pissed. Pissed that his Mikey was hurt and pissed there was nothing he could do about it and pissed he would get stuck with someone so much like his Mikey when he just wanted to blow off some steam. How could he be mad when every time he looked at Leonardo all he saw was his baby brother that couldn’t come with them? The one he had left back at the lair?

Leonardo seemed just as thrilled to be paired with Raph. Though in front of the team he had put up a wall of excitement, that wall ebbed away the moment he and Raph were off on their own with no one else around to witness them. With no other authority in sight, they could do whatever they wanted! And Leonardo knew exactly what he wanted.

Raph almost didn't stop in time when Leonardo stood abruptly in front of him, nearly colliding with the several-feet smaller slider. Neither spoke, Raph biting his lip and expecting the one who had stopped him to say something while Leonardo seemed content in drawing out the whole awkward encounter as long as possible.

“Ssssomething I can help you with?” Raph prompted finally.

“Let’s cut the shit.” Said Leonardo, and Raph winced at the swear that felt wrong coming from someone like Leonardo. “You don’t want to be here with me, that much is obvious.”

“It’s not—“

“Buh-buh-buh!” Leonardo waggled a finger, “Let me finish.”

Raph grumbled, wishing he could just reach out and snap that annoying, wagging finger, but he motioned for Leonardo to carry on.

“I don’t want to be here with you either.” Leonardo said, and then he motioned to the lack of others. “No one is here forcing us to be together. We have an hour before we have to meet back with the others, and we can do whatever we want with that hour. We don’t have to be together.”

“You’re saying…?” Raph didn't want to assume even when he was almost certain of what Leonardo met. Better safe than sorry, especially with a Leo.

“You go do your thing, I go do my thing, and neither of us talk about this again.”

Raph’s head tilted, jaw tightening, as he tried to make some sense of Leonardo’s still and confident expression. It certainly reminded him of his Leo in many ways, even if it looked strange on a face so much younger. This seemed like something his Leo might do too; there were a lot of ways they were similar, even if it was only now just coming to Raph’s attention. The way Leonardo stood, and the way he raised his eye bridge in a ‘what are you gonna do’ manner. The way he snorted a sharp breath out his nose when Raph took too long answering.

Raph decided not to risk any more delay. Hoping he wouldn’t regret this, Raph brought his hand to swipe at his jaw just to distract himself.

“Yeah. Right. Sounds good.”

“Sounds good.” Leonardo echoed with a nod, eyes still watching, always watching.

“But just uh. Just one thing first.” Raph said, raising a finger. “What do you have to do that’s so damned important?”

Leonardo didn't like that; it was written all over his face. “I could ask you the same question.”

Raph swore internally. This was a godsend— an opportunity to get away— and he really hoped he hadn’t just ruined his chances. This was a good thing, and who was he to question what Leonardo wanted to do when he wasn’t willing to tell the same? It wasn’t anything bad, just blowing off some steam! And only on people who deserved it! Just because Leo insisted they not get involved in petty robberies, that they avoid being seen, didn't mean Raph couldn’t help some poor bloke caught down in the wrong alley.

“Fine.” Raph made his decision. “I won’t ask if you won’t ask.”

“And I won’t.” Leonardo tossed his arms in the air, lowered his chin, and backed slowly until he was standing right on the edge of the building, “Meet back here in an hour, and don’t be late.”

Leonardo fell backward. Raph was expecting such antics, but when it happened he couldn’t help but rush to the edge of the building to look— to watch as Leonardo plummeted quickly toward the streets below, making no effort to stop or slow, almost as if he was reclining on the air. At the very last moment he swiped his odachi and was gone in a flash of blue.

Raph let himself breathe. He doubted he would ever get used to that. He was alone now, free to do whatever he wanted. And he knew exactly what he wanted.

~~~

These streets, these dark New York streets, were filled with just the type of scum Cassandra Jones hunted on the nightly. The type who’d rob a man and leave him with a knife in the gut. The type who’d rip a woman’s dress to ribbons while her screams of help went unheard, for who would help woman who screamed rape? No one would. But if they screamed fire? Well, help would be right on the way then. These were the types that would whine about their tires being slashed, and in that same breath slash the throat of another. Cruel. Thoughtlessly violent. At least when Cassandra had those violent events, hers were justified! Not just cruelty for cruelty sake.

These men she had been tracking deserved every ounce of fury they had coming. Cowardly people who came in the night, stole what was hers. Burned down the one good thing she’d had ever. When she was in the Foot Clan, she had grown used to not having anything of her own. Her room, her food, even her clothes were shared between all of the clan as a unit. No one had property of their own, and she had never even considered such a thing as private possession until she had gotten out. Until she had worked and toiled and slaved and bought a place of her own, a bakery— a business! Just for it to be burned to the ground because of who she was, and who her friends were. She couldn’t let that stand. She couldn’t let them get away with it, and she wouldn’t.

She found them.

They didn't see it coming. How could they? Cassandra’s outfit was the most unassuming black hoodie, skin-tight black leggings clinging tight to her form. Black gloves, black combat boots, black everything! Except for her mask. Her favorite, custom hockey mask. If one were to have nothing more than a quick glance at her, a figure moving in the nights shadows, they might assume the being was nothing more than a floating demon's face come to punish their sine or else drag them to the pits of inferno forever. Everything about the mask was Cassandra’s own: the piercing yellow paint, the red-streaking adornments like blood across the helm, and with two horns tipped red. There were red circles around the eye-holes too, and fangs painted on around the mouth, pulling her appearance into a permanent state of anger.

SLASH went her naginata, making contact with the first goon. Like a geyser came blood from the wound, and in that same moment it alerted the rest of the gang of Cassandra’s presence. She didn't care; stealth was hardly her specialty, and even if it was these guys had nothing on her. They may have grown up on the streets, but she owned the streets, and she was furious! Not even a bull rhino could stop her charge.

“HOLY FUCK!” Yelled the lead goon upon firing his gun. He missed; he was an awful shot.

Cassandra fell into a ninja run, arms stuck out behind her as she all but teleported to the lead goon, bringing the shaft of her naginata swinging for an abdomen shot. A sharp crack, and a gasp. Blood spilling from his mouth. He stumbled, and he fell back with nothing but the trash to cushion his fall. That face. Cassandra recognized that face from somewhere.

A knife slashed through the air and through Cassandra’s momentary stupor. Cassandra reached back, locking her wrist into the attacker's wrist. She gained leverage on him— who, after all, would expect someone so small to have such strength?— and she swung his blade-wielding arm right back around until it pierced through the soft flesh of his side. He screamed, and he fell aside clutching the wound. Another enemy stepped up to take his place.

Ninja stars, stored safely in the loose sleeves of Cassandra’s hoodie, flew out and assaulted the remaining men. Even if she wasn’t a ninja anymore, her old tricks would always come in handy, especially when beating bad-guy butt! More screams, more wounds, more blood. Except this time the men started to flee down the alley, trying to escape the wrath of the unseen demon.

“Oh no you don’t…”

Cassandra’s voice was a low growl as she pursued them. How could she let them walk away so easily when they stole everything from her? They weren’t that fast, not by her standards, and she was able to leave them with several slashes from her naginata for the road before she stopped at the end of the alleyway. They would need medical attention, perhaps go several grand in debt, for those wounds to be taken care of. She wanted more, but she knew her limits, and she knew there was no use creating more loose ends by killing the careless bastards.

There was one loose end she still had to tie up. The lead goon had been left behind, unable to stand, unable to run. He was still choking on his own blood, maybe from some internal injuries. Cassandra’s hatred waned at the sight of the pathetic dying man. She hadn’t intended so much injury just from one blow, and she was even debating calling an ambulance for him before…

She realized where she knew that face from, and it wasn’t from when he had burned down her bakery. She knew those eyes— those cold, dark eyes. The first time she had seen those eyes they had had an evil glint in them, evil that couldn’t be considered human. A face among the crowd, too proud to cover his identity like some as they hanged that poor child from the overpass and then paraded her body through the streets. She knew that face, and now she held no sympathy.

She lashed her naginata again, and again. She knew which parts of him she could slice and cut up without him dying because that would be too much of a mercy to him. His screams were nothing to her. His pleas of mercy, nothing. He was nothing. When the naginata wasn’t enough anymore, she resheathed it and just started to kick the absolute hell out of him.

“Hey.”

She didn't register the deep Brooklynn voice, and just kept kicking.

“HEY! Hey hey hey!”

Hands as wide as she was grabbed her around the waist and pulled her kicking and fighting away from the man that was now lying concerningly still.

“I think ya got him!”

All it took was a second for her to grab her blade and swing it out at whoever it was that had grabbed her; it took only half of that time for the massive wall of a mutant to step back. Another second, and Cassandra recognized the great green giant with a rush of glee.

“RAPH!”

She tossed herself at the mutant turtle, not for an attack but for a hug. Raph caught her quite easily in one arm, holding the woman securely to his chest and laughing as she tried in vain to wrap her arms around him.  

“Hey— hey, easy girl!” Raph let the hug go on for a few seconds more before sitting Cassandra back down on the ground. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Raph had hardly recognized the woman when he had seen her from the vantage of the rooftops; in fact, the only reason he had realized it was her was when he saw the weapon. The hockey mask helped too, but it was mostly that naginata of hers. Looking at her standing there before him, she seemed like a completely different person than the one he remembered. She was still slender as far as humans went, but now it was more of a natural slender than the starved body she had before. A healthy layer of fat now covered her belly and her hips to protect the muscle beneath— her face was a little rounder too.

“You lookin’ good.” Raph said with a nod, “Still a little shortcake though.”

Cassandra, wanting to get a better look at Raph, decided to remove her mask. Raph’s eyes widened at the sight of the new mass of hair that Cassandra had grown, a mess of greasy black that wasn’t unlike a shaggy dog's coat, held back with a yellow bandana so it was just barely under control.

“I’m five feet of whoop ass and I’ll whoop yours, don’t test me.”

Raph threw his head back and rumbled a deep belly laugh. “Trust me, I won’t. I’ve been on the wrong end of a little lady’s wrath once or twice before. Nice hair, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Cassandra beamed, “It’s never been this long before! I think I like it.”

“Yeah, yeah, suits you nice.” Raph cleared his throat. He nodded toward the bloodied figure. “Did uh. That guy deserve the beating or?”

“He deserves more than that.” Cassandra spat on him; she wasn’t even mad about her bakery being burned down anymore. Well— she was still mad about it, but not in that moment. “The bastard had it coming.”

“Still.” Raph said softly, like a kind parent addressing a child, “You’d’ve killed him.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Cassandra said in a low tone. “I know better. I’ve done this before.”

Raph breathed through his nose and shook his head. He knew that look of hatred in Cassandra’s eyes— he had felt that look before, and had that same look directed at him. He cupped a hand across the length of Cassandra’s back and started to guide her away toward the fire escape. She listened reluctantly.

“Come on— let’s scram before the cops get here. You weren’t exactly being quiet you know.”

And up to the rooftop they went, several buildings down from the scene, but Cassandra still had that look. That look that Raph hated.

“What did those guys do to deserve that, CJ?”

“It’s personal…” Cassandra just barely muttered.

“Too personal to share?”

“Ask my turtles; they can explain it better. What are you doing here?”

“It’s personal.”

Cassandra smirked. “Too personal to share?”

Raph smiled despite himself and shook his head. “No, no it’s not.” He told her everything, and Cassandra got even more riled up.

“Seriously?! That fucked up man!” She was practically radiating chaotic energy, starting to swing her fists like a boxer, “Where are they? I’ll take em on! Right here, right now, no mercy! I wanna kick some Jurassic Ass!”

“Actually, triceratops’ are from the cretaceous.”

“Does that really matter?”

Raph pursed his lips. “No, I guess not. But… now that I told you my personal bizz, can you tell me yours? Maybe I can help.”

Cassandra looked at Raph. She considered her options, bit her lip, and decided on one.

“They burned down my bakery. It was also my house but that’s less important.”

“Cassandra…” Raph’s voice held nothing but sympathy. “Damn. Sorry to hear that. Do you have a place to stay or…?”

“April’s letting me crash at her crib which is suuuuuuuper dope! And I got a security deposit on the place so…”

“Well, I’m not excusing what they did, but is that really grounds for a murder?” He tried not to laugh— it just slipped out.

“That wasn’t my plan.” Cassandra smiled a tired smile, “I was just gonna beat ‘em up and make them pay reimbursement for my shop. Then I realized who he was.”

“Who is he?”

“A few months ago there was a live broadcast on ABC news. A bunch of guys wearing masks hung a mutant from an overpass and then dragged her body down the interstate. He was one of them.”

Raph’s breath caught. “Oh…”

“It was just a kid. The… guys were never caught until now.” She stared at listful at the flashes of red and blue in the distance, signaling that the man she had attacked was found. Rescued; a blessing that little kitten he slaughtered hadn’t been lucky enough to receive.

“I didn't know.” Raph said; he didn't even know mutants had been exposed here! Shouldn’t that have been important enough to mention. “What about the rest of them guys that got away?”

“I’ll find them.” Cassandra was confident.

“And… would they be gettin’ the same treatment as they boss?”

“I can’t know if they were involved. They might be like me. The Foot Clan did… a lot of things I wanted nothing to do with. If they’re the same as me it’s no use. But I am gonna rob em though.”

Raph laughed and pulled back his lips to show off his teeth. “Mind if I join ya?”

Cassandra blinked, and then smiled. “I would be honored.”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bay turtles

[eloquent-vowel]

Part 5 "Comfortable" Bucky X OFC (#043)

Description: A series of attacks on Russian diplomats lead to Fury dispatching some members of the avengers to defend them. There they meet a very new threat- one they have never seen before.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Thank you all for reading this far! Here is a little time skip for you and the first time some of the Avengers meet Eris. Time is probably going to be very disjointed after this part! <3

Part 4

Bruce stared out of the Avenger's tower window, New York looked so small from up here. Looking down everyone seemed so unimportant, there were hundreds of people walking to the same place they always did, dressed in the same clothes they always wore. Were they happy with their lives? Were they living their dreams? What did they regret?

"See anything interesting Doc?" Tony's voice broke Bruce's trance. "Seen any muggings? Street fights? You know, I once saw a pigeon fly down and steal someone's sandwich right from their hand, the whole thing." Tony came into view, two cups of coffee in his hands. His eyes sparkled with the usual joy but under it all there was the slightest hint of concern.

Bruce took the offered coffee cup. "Buff pigeon."

"Perhaps it was a tiny pigeon hulk."

Bruce huffed a laugh before sipping is coffee. "The Incredible Squawk?" Despite Bruce's attempt at humour his voice came out as bitter as his coffee. Bruce watched the steam slowly rise before letting out a broken sigh. "She would have been 24 today."

Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, there was silence for a while. He had to think about what to say next, "We'll find her, Bruce. We won't stop looking I can pro-"

"Tony." Bruce turned to face Tony, the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual. "Thank you for trying to cheer me up but, let's be realistic, its been 20 years. The truth is either she doesn't want to be found or never will be."

"You are aloud to be realistic, Bruce, but don't lose hope."

The two shared an understanding stare, Bruce looked like he was going to say something but was interrupted by Natasha entering the room.

"We have a problem."

"When do we not?"

"Funny, Tony." Nat approached the two of them, she was staring down at the tablet in her hand very intently, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "A Russian diplomat was murdered at his safe house last week."

"And this concerns us how." Tony's tone was flippant.

"Because he as an informant for Shield but before he could talk he was beaten so badly they had to use dental records to confirm his identity."

Nat handed over the tablet to Tony who flicked through the photos of the crime scene. It was brutal. The guards that were put in to defend the diplomat were beaten to death, violently. It was obvious, even to his untrained eye, that whoever did this used their fists and no other weapon. Most of the guards had dents in their temples and some had broken knees. The path of the killer was followed by a nice trail of beaten corpses. Until they lead to the bedroom of the diplomat. Just like the other corpses, his body was beaten with blunt objects but unlike the others the killer really wanted to make sure he was dead. There was practically no skull that remains intact and there was blood everywhere. Tony blanched a bit and returned the tablet to Nat.

"What exactly do you want us to do? Bring a guy back from the dead?"

"No." Nat sounded tired, stressed, Tony kicked himself slightly for not being able to be serious. "We are being tasked for protecting someone we strongly suspect to being a second target." She turned the tablet around to show another angry looking man.

"Who pissed in his cornflakes?"

Nat ignored Tony. "This is Panin Rostislavovich, Russian ambassador here in America and more importantly mole for Shield. We think there is a large possibility he will be attacked at some point this week. Fury has asked that we personally see to guarding him. Something about improving relations with Russia."

"So, we sit in a room with someone and get paid for it?"

Nat just raised her eyebrow.

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

"Getting comfortable there, Mr. Rostislavovich?"

Tony quipped to the stern man who was currently pacing violently up and down the length of the room. Normally he wouldn't have commented on it but his footfalls were terribly annoying and Tony was nursing one hell of a hangover.

"Would you be comfortable in this situation? Would you Mr. Stark." Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes. "When your colleague has been beaten to death in his apparently 100% secure and safe house!"

"Panin, buddy, listen- we are just here on a hunch no one said for certain that they were after you."

Tony made eye contact with Natasha and Steve who were standing guard by the door. They both shook their heads, no signs of intrusion at the moment. They were in direct contact with the guards outside the house and inside of the house, if Tony said so himself, this place seemed pretty impenetrable.

"Team Delta. Team Delta, report."

Him and his big mouth,

Nat's voice was panicked as she began to check in with all the teams around the perimeter of the house. She got more and more intense with each team name.

"No one on the perimeter is responding. Tony get him to the safe room, be ready to take the back exit."

"You don't have to tell me twice, come on buddy, let's not get you killed."

With that the escorted Panin to the solid metal safe room leaving Steve and Nat to do what they did best, beat people up.

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

Natasha turned to Steve, he looked calm but the tight grip he had on his shield gave him away. The sound of fighting and violence started to be heard through the door.

"Hide and we get the jump on them." Nat whispered as she ducked behind one of the large sofas, Steve look up place adjacent to her. She began to count her bullets, double checking that she had enough ammunition.

There was silence for a moment.

Then a massive crash as the door flew off its hinges and into the wall behind Steve. She couldn't help the slight gasp that she let out as Steve slowly moved away from the rubble.

"I can hear you." A female voice, gravelly and harsh spoke in perfect Russian. It sent shivers down Nat's spine, Steve looked at her questionably. She just gritted her teeth and shot at the doorframe. She watched as Steve leapt out once she ran out of bullets. She reloaded as quickly as possible to cover Steve, as soon as she aimed her pistol over the couch she was stunned into inaction.

She could hardly keep track of who was hitting who as Steve fought the intruder. It was evident that this person was the same as Steve, they were a super soldier. Nat tried to find a pattern in their movements, an opening to fire a shot but every move they made was unexpected and chaotic. They were covered almost head to toe in black tactical gear, the only exception being their legs that reflected in the low lights of the room, metal legs? Whatever they were made of their legs were definitely strong as one well placed kick threw Steve back against the wall to joint the door.

Nat didn't hesitate to engage. Vaulting over the couch and throwing her gun by the window, she went immediately for a choke hold, swinging her legs over the other woman's neck. Nat felt some sort of pride as she succeeded to bring the intruder down to the floor, she squeezed tightly in an effort to choke them. Until the glint of metal over the intruder's fists slammed right into the back of Nat's knee, it didn't quite dislocate as intended but the force was enough to let the intruder get free.

The two women stood up once more and took a moment to size each other up. Nat realised that this woman was as tall as Steve and looked as strong. The bottom half of her face was covered in a protective mask and her hair was wild, perhaps from a previous scuffle? Now that Natasha had a good look she realised that both of the woman's legs were made of a shining metal, they whirred and clicked as she stood up. She glanced at Steve who was just beginning to stand up, clutching his ribs- the two exchanged a quick nod and together began to try and take down this new threat.

Unfortunately it was not as easy as either of them thought. Their opponent was brutal, unpredictable and yet seemed to predict every move they made. Steve would attack from behind and she was sidestep, only to throw a devastating punch at her. It was down right terrifying that one woman was able to take on both Steve and herself at once. Even worse was that this woman didn't seem to tire, while Steve and the woman were able to breathe normally Nat was beginning to falter. The intruder saw this and with one well timed switch kick Nat saw stars as a metallic leg collided with her temple.

Steve watched in horror as Nat fell, his opponent showed no sense of regret and did not hesitate to begin her brutal assault on him once more. Thrown by Natasha bleeding from the head it didn't take long for the woman to have her arms around his neck in a less than friendly way. Black spots danced in his vision, he thought this was it. He began to run through ways to get out of this but every time he struggled the edge of the brass knuckles dug deeper into his throat.

He thought he was gone until he felt her shift slightly and then let go of him altogether. He fell on the floor gasping and turned to see where the woman had gone. He saw her pick up Natasha's pistol and making a running leap out of the window. Shattering the glass into a hailstorm of chaos.

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

Tony had little warning other than the sound of glass shattering and the violent bang of a gunshot. The man who he had previously been talking to about his plans for the future fell to the ground, a bullet hole directly through the centre of his brain.

Tony turned around violently to just catch the sight of some meta glinting under streetlights and a figure darting off into the dark.

Fury was going to be so mad at him.

Part 6

#marvel #hydra #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x original female character #bucky x oc #bucky fic #angst #avengers #eventual fluff #winter soldier #winter soldier x oc #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #hydra are assholes #eloquent-vowel #043 #slow burn #bucky x ofc #buck barnes x ofc

[spell-cleaver]

Astrophilia

@star-wars-wlweek

Day 3: Defending Each Other & Time Travel

Also read it on AO3 or on FFN!

Sometimes, the universes collide; the Living Force makes no sense.

One moment Qi'ra was fleeing from the Imperial who'd caught her stealing his code cylinders, the dingy streets and back alleys of Corellia's industrial district flashing by around her. The next, a sun beat down on her and sand pelted her face.

She glanced up—then ducked as a gunship swooped in over her head. She stared up and followed its swerve; it descended rapidly a few hundred metres ahead in—

An arena.

A battle.

This was—

She threw her gaze around. It was a desert—ish?—planet, with stone walls or caverns, it seemed. She was in a sink hole, the stands directly above her carved out of the rock, and a few hundred Geonosians flickered their wings as they stared down.

Geonosis. She didn't know much about Geonosis, but she assumed that was where she was. However she'd got here.

Animals roared, laser weapons buzzed, and all sorts of cacophonies rang out from the central conflict in the arena, but she didn't have time to stare at that. Even as three humans leapt onto the bumpy, scaled back of what looked like… a reek.

She crept along the edge of the arena. She still had that random Imperial's code cylinders in her pocket and she clutched at them for some semblance of normality, following the wall towards one of those side tunnels.

She just needed to get out of the battle. She just needed to get out of firing range.

A clanking on her left stopped her. She stared in horror: flanks upon flanks of pink Clone Wars era battle droids marched out of the tunnel she'd been aiming for, hides gleaming under the beating sun. They each had a blaster except—

Except one.

One had lost its blaster, and creeping along behind it, sticking to the shadows of the caverns, was a short-statured girl, her hair knotted into two cute buns at the back of her head.

She looked less cute when she lifted her stolen blaster and fired, taking out a row of battle droids in quick succession.

The remaining ones stumbled and squawked before they turned on her. She grinned and ran—towards the arena, the idiot, the droids giving chase.

Qi'ra didn't complain. She went for the blaster of one of the fallen, palmed it in her hand—Lady Proxima had given her some training with a blaster, thankfully—and turned towards the dark tunnel—

"Hey, watch out!"

Shots shattered the air above her. She ran zigzagged to escape them, crouching low, and heard return fire behind her. She didn't look back until she'd paused in a cranny for cover.

The girl was coming back. Several droids trailed her, shooting; one even clipped her arm and set her gasping, clutching her bicep as she ran, but she still went. The droids aiming at Qi'ra hesitated and turned around to survey the new threat.

Qi'ra took her chance. She shot their heads off while their backs were turned, and that girl sailed right through.

"Come on!"

Qi'ra hesitated, then followed her deeper into the tunnel. She took a sharp left into shadows just where the light from the arena proper faded, and the moment Qi'ra was in with her, she slammed a door shut behind them and locked it.

"Thanks for that," Qi'ra said. "I was in a tight spot."

"I could see that. I wanted to help."

Qi'ra would've just kept running, but that was the girl's problem.

"You're not from here either, are you? You look different. Dressed different."

"So are you." Qi'ra eyed her. She was wearing a dress.

"Yeah. One moment I was in my bedroom at home, the next I was in this room here." She gestured around. "I'm Leia, by the way."

"Qi'ra." She supposed one should offer more than that, so she added, "I was running from Imperials on Corellia when I found myself running from battle droids instead. I thought that type were decommissioned."

Leia lit up. "You're from the Imperial era as well, then? I thought so."

"What do you mean, the Imperial era, we're—"

"In the Clone Wars."

Qi'ra gaped at her, suddenly doubting her saviour's intelligence. "What?"

"Haven't you studied history?"

"I'm a Corellian scum rat!" Qi'ra snapped. "No, I have not!"

"Ah." Leia did flush a little, then. "Sorry. Well, this is the Battle of Geonosis, the first battle of the Clone Wars. Did you see the Jedi fighting? All those old battle droids? We're in the past."

Qi'ra stared. How? was the first thing she thought to say. Then it was, What?

What she said, though, was, "How do we get back?"

"I don't know. But"—Leia's eyes lit up with a strangely enchanting fervour—"we have an opportunity."

Despite herself, Qi'ra was intrigued. "How?" If there were Jedi, she supposed they could steal a lightsaber or two. Those went for millions on the black market and she'd not only be set to get off Corellia, but set for life.

Or, these battle droids were easily hacked. She could employ a couple of them, sell them as bodyguard droids…

"The Clone Wars led to the increase in Chancellor Palpatine's power and eventual creation of the Empire," Leia said. "If we can stop the war here, we can stop the Empire from rising altogether. We can save billions from death and trillions from tyranny!"

…or they could be fools.

Qi'ra blinked. "Are you insane?"

"Not at all. The Clone Wars were orchestrated by a puppetmaster, my father taught me; all we have to do is reveal the truth to both sides before they all die. The Jedi are there, they'll sense we're telling the truth, and—"

"It's a warzone," Qi'ra snarled. "We'll die before we get near them. If we want to live, we have to flee. That's the only way to stay alive."

Leia looked at her like she was empty. "We could save the galaxy."

"Or we could die." She was so naïve, so idealistic, Qi'ra wanted to shake her. Didn't she know she was mortal? Didn't she know you could try, and try, and always fail? All you could do was live to try another day.

Even if Leia's fervour made her want to stay. Even if Leia surged forwards and grasped her hand. "Come on, Qi'ra. We could change the future for ourselves and others."

Qi'ra hesitated, looking at their joined hands.

Then she ripped hers free. "The Republic or the Empire. It doesn't affect me." She tried to keep her bitterness at bay. "I'll still be stranded on Corellia with thugs and gangsters." She met Leia's heartbroken look with scorn. "Who are you, that you think things will ever change?"

Leia's face hardened.

"I am the Princess Leia Organa or Alderaan," she declared, gripping her blaster. "My parents have not risked so much fighting the Empire just for me to abandon their cause now like a coward."

Coward. It was true, even as it hurt.

"Die, then," Qi'ra said. "The same way they inevitably will."

Leia let out a scream of fury and shoved past her, running out of the room and towards the arena.

Her touch stung, but Qi'ra shook it off, lifting her own blaster. She needed to get out of here and she was going to find a way to do it.

#qi'ra #leia organa #leia x qi'ra #my writing #random words on a page #starwarswlweek2021 #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars

[padme-parker]

Collide / Chapter 2

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

summary: You get interrogated by the Jedi Council and some calls home are made.

word count: 3,700+

warnings: my shitty writing, a few curse words, plot holes

A/N: I might’ve forgotten to edit some things out lol my bad, also this chapter is really messy but I will come back to fix it once I get the hang of writing for a series

Song(s) of the chapter: Creep by Radiohead, Home with you by FKA Twigs, and Softly by Clairo.

read chapter one here

“Is it alright to feel this way so early? And in my blood, all the sweet nothings fallin' in love overnight” -Softly by Clairo

Anakin was walking amongst the halls with Master Obi-wan and Master Yoda when he felt it, a disturbance in the force. Obi-wan turned to him, “Do you feel it too?” Anakin had merely nodded before taking out his holo device, bringing up a map of the Jedi Temple. His eyes quickly scanned it before finding something out of place, “Look, it’s an unrecognized heat signature in the lower levels of the temple.” Of all the years he’d been living in the temple, he had never visited the lower levels. He knew of its existence and that only certain Jedi, like Master Yoda, could enter. However, he never understood why it was forbidden to enter.

“Master Yoda, what should we do?”

“Go down, you must. Alert the others, I will.” He gave Master Yoda a nod before taking off with Obi-wan. Using the holo map to guide him, he found himself in front of a large steel door. He placed his hand on the door, seeing if it’d budge, but it didn’t move an inch. Beckoning forth the force within him, he imagined the door opening. A warmth that spread from his heart to the tips of his finger, encompassing his entire being until he felt the door shift. Pushing the door open, he put away his holo device, his lightsaber now in his grasp.

“They’re close Master, I can feel it.” Obi-wan took the lead, using the force to guide him to the person they were looking for. It didn’t take the two very long to find them, well more like her. Anakin took notice as to how she was gripping onto the wall for dear life. With her back to them, he couldn’t see her face. Only the outline of her figure, clad in all black. Who are you?

Obi-wan ignited his saber, Anakin following. “Stop right there! Turn around and face us sith!” Oh, so apparently I’m a sith now. Anakin furrowed his eyebrows, why could he hear her thoughts? His ears picked up on the approaching footsteps, as he felt the other Jedi enter the room, his shoulders slightly tensing.

The girl raised her arms slowly, showing defeat. Turning around, his eyes immediately found hers. He watched as her eyes moved across the room until they landed on his. He let his eyes widen for a fraction of a second, before composing himself. He realizes that he’s seen her before, in his dreams. The ones where her beauty overtook him, and they’d spend their time together in the meadows. When he dreamt about her, he felt at peace. He felt whole. Even after waking up, only to find Padme at his side, he could still feel her lingering touch. He had always wondered why the force was showing him visions of her, of their future together. Now, he knew why. He felt a tug in his chest, the force insisting that he move closer. To take you in his embrace and never let go.

He watched as you blinked, licking your lips before uttering his name. He watched as your knees buckled, sending you to the floor. He watched as your eyes shut, your body going limp.

It’s you.

He was angry at the force. Why would they send him to you, after he had gotten married to the love of his life. The force had also shown him visions of Padme and him, their life together. He knew it was one full of joy and happiness, the force assured him of that.

“Anakin? Anakin, I asked you a question,” He was broken out of his reverie by Obi-wan, “Do you know that girl?”

“No, I don’t know her.”

-

Anakin found himself in your room, the steady beeping of the machine was beginning to frustrate him. He needed you to wake, he needed to know why you were here, in this exact moment. Why not earlier? Before he had fallen in love with Padme? He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave Padme, especially now that she was carrying his child.

He walked closer to your bed, before sitting on the edge of it. He observed your face, she looks the same. She even smelt the same, like a meadow of flowers with a hint of something fruity. He took his time to observe you, not knowing if he’d ever see you again. What was the Jedi Counsel going to do to you? He gently brushed a lock of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. Brushing his knuckles softly over your cheeks, he was interrupted by his holo device pinging. Signaling that he was needed elsewhere. He didn’t want to leave your side, but he has a life to get back to. He looked at you one last time before swiftly turning away, leaving you alone once more.

-

A few hours later, you regained consciousness. Sound was the first sense that came back to you, and all you could hear was the stupid beeping of the machine. The next sense that came was sight. Your eyes scanned around the room, noticing the IV that was hooked onto you, along with the heart rate monitor attached to your index finger. Using your free hand, you ripped off the monitor and IV, the beeping of the machine stopped, only to be replaced by a flatline sound. Oh my stars, does this thing ever shut up. Before you could make it to the door, it flew open. Obi-wan, Anakin, and Master Yoda walked in.

“Where do you think you’re going, sith.” Obi-wan asked.

You titled you head to the side, “What makes you think I’m a sith?”

“What other force user would be able to cunningly sneak into the temple unnoticed?” Although his face was completely serious, his voice held a sarcastic tone. “Besides, who wears all black in a Jedi temple?” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh, Anakin. Duh.” Turning to face Anakin, you also gave him a pointed look. Both brows furrowed as you called him out.

“And exactly how do you know Anakin?” Right, you forgot that they were going to question you. Luckily for you, Fury had gone over the plan with you a couple of times, so you knew what to do.

“I’ll tell you, only if you bring me to the Jedi council.”

-

Standing in front of the council was more intimidating than you thought. Especially when your eyes landed on Master Windu’s. You couldn’t tell who was scarier, Fury or Windu. As intimidated as you were, you were also amazed. Gazing through the windows, you could see the flying shuttles and speeders, something Earth certainly didn’t have.

“Right Miss…” There was a pause, they waited for you to say your name.

Remember, no real names. Why? ‘Cause Fury said so, “Alyra.”

“Just Alyra? No last name?” Obi-wan questioned

“Yep,” the pop of your ‘p’ echoed throughout the silent room, “Just Alyra. No middle or last name. Mysterious right?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood. When no one laughed or cracked a slight smile, you gave them a tight smile. Right, the Jedi don’t like having fun.

“So Miss Alyra, please do tell us why you’re here.” Fu- Master Windu’s voice booms, showing that he isn’t in the mood for jokes.

-

“It’s extremely vital that you explain to the Jedi Council the reasoning for your arrival. And I don’t care how much you admire that Anakin Skywalker, don’t do anything that will forever alter their timeline. We need him to turn, because we need the Death Star.”

“So, you want me to watch and do nothing as Anakin suffers? Absolutely nothing. Also, how the hell am I supposed to acquire the Death Star?”

“Correct, I trust that you can do that. Right, agent L/N? As for the Death Star, just make sure you get close to Skywalker, close enough that he won’t kill you when he turns, but not too close.” You assumed Fury hadn’t watched any of the prequels because Anakin killed and pushed away literally everyone who was close to him.

You swallowed before swiftly nodding, “right.” you replied. Your mouth had gotten dry all of a sudden. You’d be damned if Fury thought you weren’t going to do anything to help Anakin. You couldn’t imagine yourself holding the knowledge of their future, Anakin’s future, and not doing anything to help. You didn’t know what you were going to do, but you sure as hell knew that you weren’t going to sit around idly. Something had to change.

-

How were you supposed to explain to the Council that billions of lives were being threatened, and that the only way to save them was through a weapon that doesn’t exist yet. On top of that, it was a weapon created by the empire. There was no way Fury’s plan was going to work without questions arising, so you created a plan of your own. Of course one that Fury would approve of.

“I’m here because not only is my planet being threatened, but so is yours, and every other planet in this universe. The only way to stop it from happening is if you train me.”

“Before we can even decide on if we should train you or not, please do tell us, how did you find out about our existence.” Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before telling them the story.

“Long ago, there was a Jedi named George Lucas.” You glanced at Master Yoda, noticing his eyes light up as he remembered him. “He was a powerful Jedi, gifted with foresight. Almost always, his visions came true. One night, he dreamt of the destruction of Coruscant and it’s people. At the time, he didn’t know that it didn’t only affect Coruscant, but the whole universe. Scared of being caught in the destruction, he warned his friends, Jedi or not. Together they fled using the bridge, coming to my home planet. There, they started their new lives. George Lucas then created comics and movies to serve as a reminder to himself and his friends of their home. He did his best to replicate Coruscant, but I must say, it’s more beautiful in person.” I can’t wait to see Naboo though. You smiled, a frown soon emerging. This means that I can never tell Anakin of his future, not even a little. They wouldn’t believe me.

You cleared your throat before speaking again, “If that’s all, I’d like to go for a walk.” You waited for one of the Jedi to reply.

“Alright, you have 30 minutes. We expect you to be back once those 30 minutes are over. In the meantime, we will be discussing your stay here.” Master Windu said, waving his hand to dismiss you.

Quickly walking out of the room, you began to wander around aimlessly. You took in your surroundings, admiring the new environment. Who knows, you were probably going to hate it as time passed. The vibration coming from your chest startled you, picking up the necklace you pressed the button. A hologram of Director Fury and Mr. Stark came up.

“Hey kid, how are you holding up in there?”

“Well, I think I’ve got everything under control. I’ve told them about the mission,” well not really, “So far, everything is going as planned.”

“Alright agent L/N, if that is all, I’ll be ending the call no-”

“Wait, wait, wait! Can I speak to Peter, pretty puhhhleasee! Come on Fury, you owe me this.” You watched as Fury rolled his eyes and huffed out a fine, soon after Peter came into frame. “O. M. G. Peter you’ll never guess where I am.” You panned the device around the hall, showing off the Jedi Temple.

“Holy crap! You're in the freaking Jedi Temple. That’s so cool!” You heard feet shuffling behind you, “Hey, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you later Peter. See ya!” You shut off the device before a voice was heard behind you.

“Were you talking to someone?” Anakin’s voice rang out from behind you, turning around you found him resting against a pillar, looking casual as ever.

“Yes I was, Mr. Skywalker. However, that information doesn’t concern your prying ears.” you smirked.

“And that is where you are wrong Miss Alyra. You see it does in fact concern me, do you think the Jedi Council knows of this device.” He strided up to you, gently grasping your necklace. You were able to get a good whiff of his scent, he smelt like strawberries and cinnamon. It was a peculiar combination but it worked together. Honestly, that was probably the most attractive thing about him, besides his face. You could stare at it all day. There was just something so mesmerizing about his face, it demanded your attention.

“Why are you staring at my face?” He asked

“Hmm, oh nothing. I just thought I’d never see you in real life.”

“Real life? What do you mean in real life?” His brows furrowed, making the scar on his face more prominent. Shit, not even a day in Coruscant and you had already blown your cover, “Have you,” He inhales deeply before continuing, “Have you seen me in your dreams too?”

Wait, what? Sure, maybe you had a sexual dream about him every once in a while, but you didn’t expect him to dream about you too. “Umm, yes…?” It’s too late to stick to the original plan now.

“So, you’ve seen it then? Visions of us, in the meadow?”

“Yes, I was… unaware that you were having these dreams too. I thought I was going crazy.” Maybe you are.

“Well, we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, so it wouldn’t be plausible for you to know. However, I do suggest we talk about this tomorrow. I’m afraid we have to get back to the council now.” He motioned for you to go first, following closely behind you. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence until the doors of the Council came into view.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

-

“The Jedi Council has come to the decision that we will train you,” You let out a breath, “But you need to tell us of the threat first.”

“In my system, there is a moon filled with powerful beings. Their greediness and selfishness will ultimately lead to their demise. There was a famine, the poor and weak struggled the most, while the strong thrived for a short amount of time. However, once the food was all gone, everyone perished. Except for one. His name is Thanos. Struck with grief, he sought after power. Enough power to eliminate half of the universe. He…. He wants to spare us the grief of losing our loved ones to selfishness, but fails to realize how much anguish we will be in if half of the universe just disappears. That’s why we need your help. Without your knowledge and technology, we wouldn’t be able to save the universe. But once my training is over, I will need others to help me.” There was a pause, you let the words sink in before speaking again, “Like I said, they are powerful beings. But even they cannot survive a famine. The only reason Thanos survived was because he was exiled. An acquaintance of mine saw this, through a vision. So it hasn’t happened yet, but it will soon. So the sooner I can get trained, the better. But I will need others to train with me too. I cannot take down a titan alone.”

“It’s settled then, Kenobi and Skywalker, you will train alongside Alyra to help her. We will send more Jedi if needed.” After Master Windu dismissed the council, Obi-wan came up to you to formally introduce himself. Of course, he didn’t need to, you had already known who everyone was. But for the sake of the plan, you had to act like you didn’t.

“Hello there! I am Obi-wan Kenobi. I’d like to apologize for my behaviour earlier.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize. But thanks I guess.”

“I assume no one has shown you to your quarters yet?” You nod, “Let me show you the way then.”

Anakin watched as the two of you left, a gentle laugh escaping your lips. Although Obi-wan’s hands were clasped behind his back, Anakin didn’t like the way he was so close to you. The furrow of his brows were noticeable as he felt the jealousy grow in him. Snap out of it, you just met her. He took big strides in order to catch up to the two of you.

“Hey! Wait up.” Hearing Anakin's voice made the two of you stop in your tracks. “Where are you two heading?”

“I was just going to take Miss Alyra to her quarters. Anyhow, since your quarters seem to be closer to hers, I think you should take her instead.” Obi-wan stated, giving Anakin the information he needed before leaving.

“Well, it looks like your room is right across from mine.” He began to lead the way, taking smaller steps to make sure you kept up.

“Tell me Anakin, what’s it like living on Coruscant?” You’d been curious, life as an avenger was grueling, although you did travel many places for missions, it was never for leisure. Living in New York for most of your life, you lacked knowledge about culture and life in general outside of America. So being in a new environment like Coruscant was quite exciting to you, but it was also scary. Give or take a few Jedi, some senators, and siths; you barely knew anyone.

“Well, I’m not gonna say I love it, because I don’t. But Coruscant does have its perks. There are many different cultures here, you’ll never get tired of it. Plus there’s no sand here, I fucking hate sand. It just-”

“-gets everywhere. Yeah I don’t like sand either. There’s a lot of branches and broken shells in it, making it hard to walk on.” You finished his sentence for him. Not realizing what you said before it was already out of your mouth, you gave him a sheepish smile. Anakin gave you a smile in return.

As your quarters came into view, Anakin grew nervous. He didn’t want the conversation to end, “About tomorrow, how about I pick you up for some breakfast, then we can explore the lower levels of Coruscant while you tell me about your home?”

You looked to the floor, biting your lip to keep you from smiling like an idiot, “Yeah, I’d really like that.” you continued to stare at the floor as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Anakin.” Finally meeting his gaze, you gave him a small smile.

“Sweet dreams, Alyra.” You watched as Anakin disappeared into his room before entering yours. Truth be told, you weren’t expecting much from the Jedi. The room was moderately decorated, only containing necessities. The bed itself looked like a bag of rocks, but was surprisingly comfortable. Going into the refresher, you were delighted to find that it wasn’t some outdated 90’s looking bathroom, but a more modern one. There was a single sink, along with some counter space where you could put your toiletries. A circular mirror was hanging above the sink, giving the bathroom some style. Everything in the bathroom had been so monotone, the same shade of white. Except the shower curtain, which was a very light gray.

Walking out of the bathroom, you noticed a door which presumably led to your closet. In it you found Jedi robes already hanging, there was also some sleep wear too. The robe itself was black, just like Anakins. However your clothing had been variations of white and gray. What a weird combination for a Jedi. It felt weird to be calling yourself a Jedi, it just didn’t feel right.

You decided to take a quick shower before calling Peter again. Turning on the shower, you watched as the water fell from the shower head attached to the ceiling. To your disbelief, the water was already hot when you jumped in. You thought it would’ve taken a while for it to warm up or that the Jedi absolutely loved taking cold showers. They hadn’t given you any shampoo or body wash, so you just let the hot water do its magic. I should probably tell Ani that I need some tomorrow while we're in the lower levels. Stepping out, you hastily dried yourself before putting on your night clothes.

Sitting on the bed, you took off your necklace. Pressing the button to turn on the device, you scrolled through the hologram screen until Peter’s name came up. Clicking on his name, you waited for it to connect. After a couple of seconds waiting, the video connected.

“Y/N!” He said eagerly

“Hi Peter! How are you? It feels like ages since I last saw you.” It had been only mere hours since you had left, while for you it’d been almost two days.

“Honestly things have been...okay. It’s just not the same without you around y’know?” You could hear the hesitation in his voice, as if he was hiding something.

“What do you mean okay? What happened?”

“I meant to tell you this before you left, but everything happened so quickly, and then you were gone before I knew it.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “Umm…. MJ and I broke up.”

“What, why? Peter what happened?” Before he could answer, the hologram disappeared and the call ended. You tried to call him back but the call wouldn’t go through. Giving up, you let out a sigh. It’s probably for the best, I need to get some sleep.

Crawling into the covers, you situated yourself before finding a comfortable position. Thoughts of Peter and Mj lingered throughout your mind as you tried to fall asleep. You decided not to think about them for the rest of the night, and instead think of your day tomorrow with Anakin. Soon your breathing slowed down, a smile could be seen on your lips as you fell asleep.

-

somewhere in the Star Wars galaxy

Darth Sidious sits on his throne, hood pulled up to hide his face. He too, felt the disturbance in the force. Reaching into the force, he sought to find the person responsible for the disturbance. Quickly finding his answer, he lets out a vicious cackle.

so, the last of the Andarae bloodline has returned.

--

read ch 3 here

#anakin #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker series #obi wan kenobi #yoda #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #nick fury #tony stark #avengers #star wars x avengers

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Whumptober Day 28: The Fury And The Hunted

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 28. Set in my Httyd Zombie AU. The end of the world makes way for certain extremes, even religious ones. The Dragon Riders try not to mingle with any groups, but when one gets a hold of them, Hiccup won't have a good time.

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup

Pairing: None

Words: 3 588

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Hunting Season

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Almost didn't post this one. But here it is.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy.

Ao3

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The Order of the Dragon, that is what the group calls themselves. They are a bunch of religious zealots who have formed shortly after Outbreak Day. They believe that dragons are "the true inheritors" of the world, that humans have been in their way for too long and that this is the reason why human civilization as they used to know it fell. As punishment for taking up space.

Before they met them, the Dragon Riders already saw signs of them. Things like "in fire, they'll rise" or "the world will burn and belong to them once more" written in large letters on brick walls or old, peeled-off billboards. There were surprisingly creepy effigies that were vaguely dragon-shaped. Large murals of what appeared to be the end of times where humanity died horrifically in a sea of flames while dragons flew into the light, into a better tomorrow.

It was unnerving to say the least and the Dragon Riders had decided to not seek these people out. But not running into them and getting into deep trouble would be hugely out of character for them, so that is exactly what ends up happening.

The location they are at is a jungle. Not one made of trees and green, but out of tall buildings and grey. This isn't their home turf, so when the Order caught wind of the Dragon Riders and decided they needed to have them, it was embarrassingly easy to capture them.

Hiccup finds himself thrown down a hole. They'd singled him out, because of course they have, and separated him and Toothless.

He doesn't know why and they didn't tell him what he's supposed to be doing here either. They just spouted some nonsense about Night Furies and proving yourself worthy in front of whatever or something or other. Hiccup didn't listen too closely, much too preoccupied with his group and not getting separated from his Bud before they threw him down here.

He's lucky to have a slope break his fall. Rolling the rest of the way down, over dirt and stones, only to then collide with the remains of a support beam was horrendous. His back is sure to bruise.

Now he's here, back on his feet and staring up at the night sky and not hearing or seeing his friends or the group that has captured them.

He hopes this won't end too badly for him and that his friends will be okay.

He turns away from the hole he'd come through and stares at what lies before him. Nothing but pitch-black darkness as far as the eye can see, which isn't very far at all.

This must be a basement of some sort. An underground parking lot? What little light the moonlight can give is reflected in the back shield window of a car. Other than that, he can make nothing out.

He can't go back up, it's much too high and too steep. So the only way left is forwards.

He goes to a knee and searches his prosthetic. It's been modified to hold certain items in case his pack ever goes missing and since it has been taken by Order, he has to fish a flashlight out of his fake leg.

He flicks it on and thinks of how hasn't changed the batteries in quite a while, hopefully, it'll last him for however long he's expected to be down here.

Taking a deep and nervous breath, he wills his feet to carry him forward.

There is little else to find in this place. Other than proof that his underground parking lot theory is right, judging by the cars he finds and the parking space painted on the ground.

There is the occasional dead body, but they are all too far gone to be of any real threat if they weren't quite as dead as they were supposed to be yet.

He passes them without giving them much thought, too used to the sight by now, and continues looking.

It's quiet in here and that unsettles him. Not that he's usually surrounded by heaps of noise, but everything is supposed to make a sound. Here, the dead are silent and the scuttling of rats is missing. Here, the only one making sound is him and that is concerning.

He comes to a standstill in the darkness, slowly waving his flashlight around to see if he can scan anything in his surroundings. But apart from another beam here and there, there is nothing.

His heart's pounding grows worse. He would be able to keep his cool a lot better if Toothless was here with him.

The silence stretches on and Hiccup isn't sure where to go. He's been walking in a straight line so far, he could continue that way until he hits a wall and then he can only go right or left. Whichever direction he takes is bound to give him one of two things. A general idea of how big this place is or a way out and both will only be beneficial for him.

So he continues on the way forward, walking the straight line until the first wall he hits. There is the brief thought that he should've done this back at the hole he'd been thrown into, where there were walls to follow on each side of him.

But he has eventually reached it, the other side of the parking lot. He halts and touches the cool surface as if relieved to have found it.

But then he notices something.

Pulling his hand back, he finds it is covered in soot. So this wall has been burned before. By a dragon, judging from the pattern. Hiccup backs away and lifts the flashlight to take a look. It is quite a sizeable scorch mark.

With this new development, he turns towards the body nearest to him and walks over, kneeling by it to find that it isn't one of the turned. This is someone who had been killed by something else and context clues would suggest by a dragon. Perhaps the same one responsible for the fire damage to the wall.

Is that what he's meant to do down here? Meet a dragon? Survive this dragon? Either way, something with the dragon that has made this place its home.

But what kind of species would make its home in such darkness? Not many prefer a den underground like this.

Feeling the pressure, Hiccup searches his limited dragon knowledge.

A Whispering Death? No, they usually prefer to make a home more north of the globe, he believes. And they dwell in hole they make themselves, too, a burrow made out of a complex system. This wouldn't do for them. Unless he simply had the luck to not stumble upon, or into, one of the many holes this species is known for.

The second species that comes to mind is the Night Fury. He remembers once meeting Toothless in a place just as dark. The scorch mark is similar to his Bud's.

Standing back up, Hiccup has to swallow a lump in his throat and his pulse, which had slowed during his walk, is quickening again.

A Whispering Death he can barely deal with, especially on his own, but a Night Fury? He has a feeling kind words, some fish, and compassion won't work on this one.

Hiccup forces himself to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. He's always alert, he has to be in order to survive, but he strains his hearing to try and pick up anything that he might've possibly missed.

Soft shuffling? The nearly undetectable movement of a predator sizing up its easy prey? Hiccup has made it so deliciously easy for it, standing in total darkness with the only light source around.

The fear must be obvious on his face. Though he tries to suppress it, he knows it's there as his eyes search the void surrounding him.

It's there somewhere. He doesn't need to see or hear it to know that it is. After being out here in the new wild, he has a sense for that, they all do. Night Furies are feared for a reason, too.

What should he do? Continue on and search for the way out? Maybe there's a staircase somewhere, something a fully grown dragon of this species will not easily fit into.

It would seem like he has no other choice. What other option would there be? The hole? He'd need wings to get out of there by himself. Or at least a rope with something to hook it onto the ground floor.

So he steels his shaky nerves as much as he is able and continues onward.

His footsteps are echoing uncomfortably loud in this deathly silence, his left prosthetic dragging just a tad bit. As he decides to go left, he swears he can feel a pair of eyes following him. His gut feeling tells him that he isn't simply imagining it.

Any moment now. He could be attacked at any moment and he has nothing to defend himself with. He has a tiny knife, but what good will that do against a dragon?

And what will it be? Torn to shreds? Ripped limb from limb? Blasted to pieces? Or will his fate not be as gentle or as swift?

He hates this. He hates this with every fiber of his being. He almost wants it to just happen already, to get it over with just so he won't have to suffer through this ever-building stress longer than he has to.

He's sweating, he can feel his clothes starting to stick to him, to his back and under his armpits especially. If that dragon can't already hear him, he can certainly smell him.

Finally, he reaches the exit, or rather, what should've been the exit.

It is hard to see at night, but a gate blocks his way out and it is locked with a sturdy padlock. If he had something to pick it, that wouldn't be a problem, but all of that is in his stolen backpack. The only ones carrying a multitude of lockpicks on their person itself would be the twins, Ruffnut in particular. So he's trapped.

He could try to find a way around it, if he has the time to. Hiccup swears he can feel the walls closing in on him.

He's trapped with a dragon possibly stalking him. If he doesn't manage a way around this lock, his only other option are the stairs and that is only if this parking lot even has them.

Taking a deep breath to calm his fraying nerves, Hiccup wants to stay here and work on this lock first, but before he can, he swears that there is something behind him.

In the process of pulling a tool from his prosthetic, he can feel the unnerving chill run down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck rise. He halts. Is that breathing that he hears? He's been paying extra attention and so he knows that wasn't there before.

It's waiting for him to turn and face it, it's waiting for him to run. His legs certainly want to, even though they feel like jelly.

But he wouldn't be standing here today if he wasn't good at pushing through his fear, he just has to push some more.

He gets back up to his feet and turns, shaking, holding the flashlight up and the face that stares back at him isn't his Bud's toothless smile. It is that of a ferocious predator staring at its next meal.

Its eyes blink in the light and it growls. To avoid angering it further, Hiccup decides to lower the beam.

"Dragons don't eat humans. Dragons don't eat humans." He tells himself, knowing well enough that there's a chance it can understand him.

He backs up, stumbling with his prosthetic, and the face moves along with him. It snarls and grows limbs as it treads into the beam of light claws scraping threateningly on the ground.

It is a Night Fury, but this isn't normal hunting behavior. He's seen Toothless hunt before and they don't do it like this. This one is almost ordering him to back up and all Hiccup can do is listen until he hits the gate, which rattles behind him.

Is that a sick sense of glee he sees appearing on the dragon's face? Who knew even dragons could have the occasional sadist?

With little elsewhere to go and nothing to defend himself with, Hiccup feels his Night Fury's name on the tip of his tongue, it is stuck in his throat to the point that he can barely breathe.

This is a much larger specimen, too. Most likely quite a bit older than Toothless, but age probably doesn't hinder it at all.

It's piercingly yellow eyes are glued to him. It's growling grows as it towers over him, intimidating him into cowering.

It then gestures to the side with its head and Hiccup realizes Toothless isn't the only one mimicking human behavior. And yet as fascinating as it is, it is ten times more terrifying as it's telling him to run.

"Run!" That face commands. It doesn't want meek prey, it wants to chase.

"Oh, fuck me." He doesn't swear often, barely at all, but when he does, it's with tears of terror blurring his vision.

An instinct to survive wants him to run, too, and he listens. Hoping that it's at least a little bit caught off guard, he springs into action, going for the right.

The Night Fury watches Hiccup go, disappearing in the darkness as he turns the flashlight off.

He's seen a car or two parked in this direction. He reaches it, hands on the dusty hull, and kneels.

He can't see anything without his flashlight and the worst part is that his predator still has ways of seeing him.

But it's not trying to lurk this time, he can hear its weight shifting where he once stood. It's not even in a hurry to follow him.

The car he's kneeling by groans under a heavy weight and that is the only hint he'll get to know that its standing over him. He's still trembling and struggles to draw air.

He lights his lighter, doesn't even dare look up, and spots his next hiding spot. Unfortunately, they'll exist solely out of cars and support beams. Fortunately, however, that this Night Fury wants this to be a game probably means he won't be immediately killed. Probably.

He kills the light before he moves away from the vehicle, diving under the next one. It won't give him as much safety as he would've liked, but it's something between him and it.

He wonders what he should do. Well, logically he knows he should calm down first as he won't be getting anywhere by panicking and acting on pure instinct alone. Here, he can take a moment.

It's not easy. He can hear the dragon circling the car, still not trying to be silent as it wants Hiccup to hear it prowl.

It's having the desired effect. He's trying really hard to stay calm, but hearing clawed paws scratching the ground in endless circles around him is making that very hard.

He takes deep breaths, in and out, in order to not give in to the dragon's tactic. He has to stay calm, he needs to remind himself of that. Only then can he think his way out of this.

What does he have at his disposal? That question is answered quickly as the answer is absolutely nothing. That flashlight, a knife, his pocket multitool? Does he have that? Checking his pocket, he comes to the relieving conclusion that it's still there. His most prized possession, they didn't take it from him. Not that they were smart enough to search his pockets.

Knowing that he has it with him sets him at ease a little and Hiccup lets out a calming breath. The Night Fury stalking him bangs on the hood of the car to rile him up and Hiccup jumps, but it's easier to will himself into a slightly more peaceful state of mind. As peaceful as one can be in this predicament.

These are the things he has and with these things he'll have to make a plan.

Luckily for him, one may already be forming.

When the Night Fury is on one side of the car, Hiccup rolls out from the other side. It hears him and steps over the vehicle with a roar of excitement. It was almost beginning to wonder if his newest prey was simply going to lie there and wait for death.

It wants to take a swipe at him, just to see how this one will react, but Hiccup turns to him, holds up his trusty flashlight, and flicks it on. The flash of the light will mean the dragon's eyesight needs at least a second to adjust. It has been blinded.

Hiccup runs back to the gate. He wants the dragon to blast it open for him, but he's going to have to do something to push the dragon that far. Risk his life pissing it off? It probably won't end well, but his options are dwindling quickly.

He doesn't have much dragon knowledge to fall back on either. Ever since meeting Toothless, he's been interested in learning more about dragons, but he already has so much to worry about, he doesn't have much time. The only knowledge he picks up on is the kind that helps him stay alive.

He's running completely blind on his way back, and he nearly stumbles over the corpse he found earlier. He can hear the Night Fury approach and he shines the flashlight right in its face again, blinding it once more.

The dragon already lets out an agitated snarl at just the second time and Hiccup figures that pissing it off won't be a problem. It's probably used to less levelheaded prey.

"Oh great, just like I wanted." Hiccup puffs and continues on his way to the gate. He sees it with a quick glimpse of the light and makes use of his good memory to remember where it is as he runs towards it.

He reaches it, hand grabbing hold of the gate locking him in and turns to blind the Night Fury again as its right behind him already.

It lets out an enraged cry as it's temper flares. It lashes out, but not with a blast like Hiccup had hoped, instead striking him with its claws and hitting his chest. Four deep lashes bleed through his shirts on his left breast. A cry leaves him and Hiccup falls to the ground.

Instead of finding himself frozen in place, Hiccup jumps back into action and backs away, flashing the light repeatedly to confuse the dragon on the distance between them.

It works, it's not immediately right on top of him again, and Hiccup struggles to his feet. The only reason why he's still moving after taking a hit such as that must be his will to live.

Free hand pressing fruitlessly down on his wounds, Hiccup wonders if he should give his plan a second try and just be better at dodging. That Night Fury is going to have to blast at him at some point, right?

He doesn't get a second chance. His predator has already learned that Hiccup might not be as fun as his previous prey and it's a sore loser.

Always an agile and fast dragon, it cuts Hiccup off and he knows only because he can hear it. It swipes for a second time and Hiccup is thrown to the ground, skull almost smashing against the concrete ground.

It hovers over him with a snarl and it hits him once more, flinging him back in the other direction, its claws getting caught and tearing through his clothing.

Hiccup climbs back up to his feet somehow, but it doesn't like that and it grabs hold of him to pull him back down. It roars in his face, it's a deafening sound.

Not knowing what else to do, Hiccup takes his knife and swipes back, cutting its lip and nose.

Far from a killing blow, that move enrages it and that's when it finally charges a blast.

Sadly, Hiccup isn't standing before the gate, is instead lying underneath the Fury's jaws.

Fortune is on his side as someone does blast the gate open and upon spotting the scene lit up with a lavender light, that someone cries out in outrage.

Hiccup looks over.

"Toothless!"

And he isn't the only one, the other Dragons follow swiftly. He's been saved.

The hostile Night Fury looks at the five new arrivals and feels threatened. Hookfang steps forward, lighting his hide on fire, and growls challengingly. He's warning it to back off.

Knowing that it's outnumbered, it does and retreats back towards the shadows. It is once again silent.

Toothless quickly approaches and frets over his Rider, but Hiccup doesn't let him, wrapping his arms around his Bud's neck and just savoring the feeling of being rescued.

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you, Bud." Hiccup tells him and Toothless sits, allowing him to have his hug. He can smell the blood on him, but knows that Fishlegs and the others can't be far behind them. He can take a look at Hiccup and then all will be well again.

#whumptober2020 #no.28 #hunting season #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfics #hiccup haddock #hiccup whump #my fanfics #the fury and the hunted #httyd zombie au

[solvina-archive]

"Look at me!" It is the first time there is the weight of an ancient in his voice; a primal, low snarl that pours from his throat as if she herself had cut it. He snagged her wrist with the curl of his fingers, yanking her back to the precipice of what she would witness the disintegration of his star ( don't you see, Persephone? this ruin, your ruin? ) and his grief rage in turn. "A million souls dead in an eve — and you would condemn me? This ruination; you would denounce me? By your hand! This was by your hand!" / hehe hi sol

flow,  break,  spill  --  sink your teeth into her jugular,  that you may find golden blood,  and the remnant of the soul that has come before.  grave maiden,  lady of flowers,  the constellation equivalent of the end.  when he pulls,  she does not resist.  such is the nature of gravity,  and two stars  (  he,  black hole;  she,  nova  )  colliding.  how his grief swells,  how she bears the brunt.  can she fault him for such sorrow?  suffering thousands of lifetimes at the hands of fate,  while she is smuggled away by mother star before rebirth might claim her.  she does not know his pain.  it is all still a fresh wound.  she knows only the bleeding,  absent the loss.

his name has been on the tip of her tongue since the day she awoke,  a chunk torn from her throat following her only into sleep,  but she has not uttered it for fear of what it might bring.  a dark thing, nestled into her chest.  now,  it catches the light.  the form of the consonants,  the vowels,  the singsong crackle of her voice.  hades.

her head tilts to the burning,  the destruction,  and she sees the weight of it  --  a sight that has greeted her in every nightmare since she awoke to consciousness.  the haze of her eyes is only the smoke of the sky.  they dangle over their lost world :  his fingers round her wrist,  her hand curled into the cloth of his robes.  a bastardized dance.

“  'tis my fault?  are you to be my jury then?  “  it is a wavering,  tender thing,  her condemnation,  her demand.  if he intends to pull her apart,  if he intends to settle knife between her ribs,  he will have to do it with conviction or not at all.  she does not have the rage to match his,  only the destruction.  the only place they have ever been equals has been upon the battlefield.  “  you,  who have ever been my punishment?  “

her eyes swing to his.  her chin lifts  --  conviction shutters and firms,  solid before the fury.  the thin bones of her wrist creak and ache,  but she doesn’t utter so much as a gasp.  so be it :  blood her.  how she craves the violence and the undoing,  as long as it is by his hand  (  he snarls,  and rages,  and all but presses the blade to her throat,  but she aches where he touches;  a swell of grief,  for all they have lost and all they will  ).

“  all these souls are gone!  it is just me.  it is just you.  “  the thrumming of her heart,  a staccato crawl up her throat.  she thinks of the graveyard beneath the sea,  that dark place that holds her beneath the waves,  and the slow crawl into the light.  her hands are bruised;  they ache from the climb,  and he seeks only to drag her back.  

persephone does not snarl back,  but she does not need to.  across a thudding years,  across the light,  across the darkness and the depths,  her conviction has never wavered.  

“  now come home.  “  her wrist in his fingers twists.  testing the limits of his strength,  and the limits of his resolve.  she has given him knife,  she has given him bared throat.  if he seeks to make the cut,  he must make it hurt.  “  come home to me.  “

#tartarusdwelt #( 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 ) seti. #( 𝒅𝒚𝒏: 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒊 & 𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒕-𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒉 ) slice me loose and call it creation. i can still feel the knife. #hi i have an awful lot of feelings #help sea HELP

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 31: The Last Act part 2

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02, @hellyeah90sbaby,

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Gaius has sent Isseya to Paris with one mission: bring Nadya back to him at any cost. Things go about halfway as planned, and Cadence unwittingly rekindles an ancient rivalry. The fate of New York is revealed.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Allez, for fuck’s sakes will you two move faster!”

They hear the crash and shatter of glass doors through the still-open window. No time to close it now. No time to do anything. Oh god.

“It’s a delicate-fucking-process!” Cadence snaps back, fangs bared, but this time Serafine meets him eye for eye and, well, fang for fang.

“Then be delicate, but be quick about it. We’ll try to stay together, but if splitting up becomes necessary, we meet up in the heart of the city as planned, yes?”

Nadya’s no use, still a little weak in the knees and there’s no way she was going to be able to help carry Lily in the event of an emergency evacuation from their hiding hole anyway. She hangs back, makes sure to stay out of the way, but keeps looking back and forth at the moving vampires hard enough to crack something in her neck.

“Nadya —” Serafine shoves a duffel bag into her hands; she fumbles but manages to hold onto a zipper, “— to the kitchen. Get as much of your blood as you can carry.”

She sees the flicker of hesitation in Nadya’s eyes, the way she looks over the woman’s shoulder to where Adrian and Cadence shoulder Lily’s limp weight as fast as they can without too much disturbance.

With a huff, Serafine grabs Nadya’s upper arms hard enough to hurt. Fresh bruises, that’s why it hurts. Fleetingly she remembers Valdas; the fingertip-touch.

“I need you to trust me right now. Trust that we will get Lily out of here safely. Please, petit. We are in more danger than you can fathom.”

She can fathom it pretty well, thanks. But Nadya nods and bolts off to do whatever (little) she can.

There’s a collective regret about the open window again — the next sound to catch on the wind sounds like banshees shrieking at midnight.

They’re getting closer.

“Argh,” Adrian growls in frustration, “just give her to me, here — watch the head.” He cradles Lily like a long and gangly baby; but does it all on his own. Cadence flashes him a questioning look.

BANG!

That would be the stairwell door. But which floor?

“You’re the strongest of any of us right now.” Adrian rasps in one harsh breath. His struggle and care to keep the young vampire in his arms as stable as possible is taking its toll on his still-starving body. “You’ve taken her on before, can you do it again?”

Serafine stops, rope in a loop over her shoulder (where did she… nevermind). She looks between the pair with growing panic as it dawns on her, suddenly, that they aren’t nearly as panicked about their incoming visitors as she is.

“That harpy of Les Trois Amants is the least of our problems right now —” she looks at them all in a whirlwind, “— or don’t you recognize the man at her side?”

Jax shrugs. “It’s not the other guy with a buzz-cut, right?”

“This isn’t the time for jokes!”

Serafine’s voice croaks; she lets out a strangled noise. Adrian shifts, wants to reach out for her, but has to think better of it for Lily’s sake. Nadya doesn’t let his sacrifice go unnoticed.

“Calm down, Serafine. Who is this guy?” And it pains her, that much is obvious, but she tries.

“That is Marc Antony, you fools.”

Another BANG! punctuates the silence; how they take in the reality and gravity of her revelation.

Nadya clears her throat. “You mean, like…”

“Like Gaius’ consolation prize after he failed to secure Caesar for his Court. Arguably a better choice for the King; and a terrible sentencing for the world.”

BANG! And this one is louder than the rest. They’re at the end of the hall. Probably not anymore.

“Processlater—runnow!”

Nadya turns and the door splinters open at her back. She grabs for the duffel strap across her chest, barely one foot off the ground—

Then the world is going sideways, Nadya’s going backward, and her head slams into the dated plaster hard and heavy and hurting. She slumps down, head hanging forward, and struggles to swallow down her bile.

Black boots come into view, their owner looming over her.

Isseya crouches down, dusting plaster from her leather pants. “Hello again, little Bloodkeeper.”

A familiar pain ignites atop her head. Isseya’s nails like claws raking over her scalp to yank her up by the knotted locks in her hair. Holding her on the tips of her toes like a puppet on strings.

“You—don’t—” teeth clenched, burning tears in her eyes keeping the woman a dark blur of red eyes and shining fangs, “—please—don’t do—this—”

Isseya snarls and leans forward, the soft whisper of her lips a stark contrast to the raw wound of her words.

“I gave you a chance to avoid this, girl. You wasted it—you did. Don’t tell me I don’t have to do shit. You’ve given us no other choice.”

Nadya can only sob; words beyond her now.

“Isseya!”

The woman whirls around at her name; shouted over the crack of splintering wood as Serafine and Antony move as blurs only distinguishable by color and size. Splinters of wood cut into Nadya’s cheeks and she tries to recoil, turning her face away in just enough time to see Cadence braced in the doorway to the kitchen.

Surprise—pain—loss—anger—hatred. There one instant and gone the next in a whirlwind. Isseya can’t tell who she wants to hate more; him for calling out to her with that voice he knows she could never ignore or herself for falling for it time and time again.

Jax comes out of seemingly nowhere at her side. Doesn’t give Isseya the moment’s rest to decide where to aim her anger as he shoves his boot in the middle of his chest. A powdery print left in the center before she goes flying backwards into the far wall.

“Nadya! Come on!”

Everything ringing in her ears.

“Get her out of here!”

Jax’s hand on her wrist, pulling her towards the open window. Adrian clings tightly onto the fragile form still in his arms, one foot over the wall and out into the night but he’s frozen in place, fixated; focus pulled to the iron-wrought grip Antony has on Serafine’s sword arm before he snaps it at the wrong angle.

“It’s been some time, Serafine.”

She snarls, bestial; in a way Nadya had previously thought only reserved for Cadence and Cynbel. “Not—nngh—long enough, I assure you!”

He laughs, deep and rich and so damn casual for the moment at hand. “You wound me!”

“Not to worry—I’m trying!”

A tight grip on Nadya’s upper arm makes her jump violently — Jax rounds in front of her hard and resolute.

“Go, follow Adrian. I’ll be right behind you.”

“But—” Back to Serafine who resorts to shouldering the older vampire through the wall of what was temporarily Nadya’s bedroom. To the thud of Cadence as he collides back to the floor, Isseya wrenching herself out from under dust and the upended coffee table to bear down on him in fury. “—Jax I can’t—”

“NO, Nadya! Not this time!” He shakes her roughly. “Do you understand me?! They want you, they can’t get you! Now GO!”

Nadya is turned and shoved towards the open window before she can get another word out. Adrian’s body angled towards her, reaching out the only way he can. He jerks his chin down to the knot of rope pooled at his feet. “They’ll cover us for as long as they can. Come on.”

“We can’t leave them!” Because surely if anyone—anyone—understands, it’s him.

And he does. It’s all over his face; and covered with the same resolute decision he had tried to pull on her back in the Cathedral.

“I—I know. But this…” His gaze drops down to her feet and goes wide with shock; fear. “Nadya, you’re bleeding.”

Huh? She wipes her hand over her head but it comes back dry. Nothing over her front, then she feels the trickle down the back of her leg. Looks down in horror to see the blood seeping into the carpet at her feet.

The duffel.

Her blood!

Isseya had slammed her into the wall and the collision must have broken the seals on the blood bags inside. “We can’t go without it!”

“Nadya—no—”

“Lily doesn’t stand a chance without it—and I did not go through that hell to lose her now!”

Adrian tries to grab her but catches himself at the last second — swooping one arm back under Lily before her body hits the floor. Nadya can hears him shout behind her but his words are lost in the chaos. She’s already skidding on her knees through the fallen doorway to the kitchen.

There’s no time to be squeamish now. Not even with the coppery smell hits her nostrils, bag hurled back over her shoulder and already dripping red through the nylon. Nadya grits her teeth and starts yanking the old bags out to scatter on the floor. You’ve literally held your own guts in with your bare hands, she reminds herself with bitter determination, this is for Lily—don’t forget this is for Lily.

Inside the fridge there are only a handful of bags left. She had grabbed as much as she could and look how that turned out. The rest is useless; smeared, splattered in uneven patterns over the tile around her. The cold plastic slips through her red fingers; once, twice, and with a scream of wordless noise the third time she manages to get them close enough to scoop into the bag at her feet.

“Come on… come on…” Stupid fingers stop slipping on the stupid zipper! Fuck! She has no other choice she can see, and bends down to bite hard on the metal and yank the duffel closed.

Yes! Once the bag is securely back around her Nadya scrambles to stand, to turn and run as fast as her legs will carry her back to the window and Adrian and—

And instead she collides with a vampire as solid as stone for the second time tonight.

“A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss.”

Nadya looks up just in time to see the last of Serafine’s attack knit closed across the curve of Antony’s cheek. He shakes it off like one might a pesky fly; all of his focus trained on the heavy hands he rests on her shoulders. “The infamous Bloodkeeper… you really are the talk of the Court. I found myself unable to pass up the opportunity to meet you in person.”

She tries to break free; even when it feels like he’s pressing her down so hard she’ll break through the floor she tries as hard as she can. But the tile is slick with blood and he’s two thousand years old and at this point she’s experienced this enough to know exactly how badly it can go.

“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”

Antony’s amusement falters; the barest betrayal of a frown. “I see. Best we take care of this swiftly, then.”

Before he can move the sound of a cracking neck breaks the strangely echoing silence.

“My sentiments exactly.”

Then there’s a different grip on Nadya’s wrist — people need to stop manhandling her this is getting ridiculous — and it’s tugging her to the side just in time for a blurred movement to send Antony soaring through the air and back into the interior wall.

The lights flicker once—twice—and die. The room plunged into darkness. Sparks flashing from torn wires in the hole in the wall, the electricity crackling violent and intense.

Gooseflesh prickles over her arms and Nadya holds her hands up, like that’ll defend her from anything, but no touch comes.

“Are you okay?” asks Cadence; and when her eyes adjust to the lack of light she finds him on one knee in front of her; looking over her blood-soaked clothes to see how much of it is freshly spilled. “You should have listened to R—”

The sound of shifting wood and rubble cuts him off. Antony stands from the mess with tears in his suit and a piece of his lower jaw sitting at an odd angle. He sets it with a quick twist of his neck and steps out of the heap; eyes leveling bright and red on Cadence’s face with an unfamiliar recognition.

Cadence locks with tension in front of her. She knows that reaction all too well, now. Both of them do.

“I admit none of us really believed in your miraculous return, Pathicus,” Antony muses, cracking his knuckles on each hand, rolling his shoulders; proving he can shake them off with barely a thought.

“I’ll give you cover,” hisses Cadence without turning back to look at her, “when I say run… you run.”

“But on the bright side, I’m glad for it.”

“Cade—”

“No arguments. Yes?”

“Yes.” She finally says, and only then does he let her go.

Cadence stands, feet planted and shoulders squared. Something about the sight makes Antony’s upper lip curl.

“I would have loathed not to have been there to do the deed myself.”

“You and quite a few others.”

“Seniority rules.”

Nadya swallows her heart back into her chest. It pounds so fast, so loud — she nearly misses it.

“RUN!” He shouts, moments before the heel of Antony’s palm slams into his lower jaw.

Blood splatters in droplets on the floor. Tiny little garnets that slick and smear underfoot as strength battles strength battles something else — something a little more like the will of survival.

Cadence collapses back, limbs flailing, and collides with the small kitchen table. The wood is weak, can’t bear the full brunt of his weight, and together they crash to the floor violently. The loud noise is enough to shake Nadya from her stupor and send her practically dancing back on both feet to avoid being caught in the heap.

She’s terrified. Again. That seems to be happening a lot lately.

But she doesn’t want to abandon him like this — no matter how strong his opponent is. The last time she did it hadn’t been Cadence who came back.

What if this time is the same?

Perhaps the scariest part is how human Antony’s eyes look as he swing his head around. Gaze level, watching Nadya brace herself in the middle of the doorway trying to decide whether to run forward or back, and still that same warm brown color. Not how a vampire is supposed to look, she thinks.

But this isn’t a vampire. This is… yeah she’s still trying to wrap her head around the reality of how that sentence ends. Marc Antony, the vampire.

“Shame you don’t listen very well.”

Marc Antony, the vampire; who is no longer across the room and instead right up in Nadya’s face. Who snatches a hand out and grabs her wrist hard enough to break. “I won’t say this is my favorite part. But those of us who know how the game is played… we don’t break the rules when we don’t need to.”

There’s a blur of darkness over his shoulder; movement too fast for her mortal eyes. Then Nadya cries out in surprise; sharp pain, bright white behind her eyes squeezed tightly closed, and the hold on her wrist is gone in the next instant.

Bloodied knuckles in a grip tight around a tanned throat, the wounds already healed over. The no-doubt expensive leather of Antony’s boots squeaking against the floor, trying and failing to gain his footing. But Cadence is taller and holds him aloft and pinned against the far wall with ease.

That… is Cadence, right?

Because she’s not sure. Between the safe at Persephone and the top part of the Feral’s head torn off and flying across the Manor hall and the way there’s no comparison—none at all—when Jax is backhanded hard enough to fly through the air and every warning Serafine ever screamed through her tears; she just isn’t. Countless times, all of them unmatched — and what they meant about who—or what—was actually standing in front of her now.

“C—” She tries to call out a name, but her voice freezes on which one to say. She doesn’t know.

“You know… there were more than a few times I was beaten to a pulp by Carlo’s men.” And the sheer relief when she recognizes the name from New Orleans is enough to punch the air from Nadya’s lungs; tears salty on her tongue while she cradles her wrist close.

“I was fresh from the war. Still new to this life, or so I thought. They had been in the de la Rosa family for a generation, some of them longer. Between then and now… I think I get it.”

Strands of blond hair fall thin in front of Cadence’s eyes. Nadya can see the bright red of them reflected in the backdrop of the night sky from the kitchen window. He lifts Antony higher and with no effort at all.

“I lost to those men because I expected to lose; because I thought there was no other option. I thought I was younger, so my body acted like it.” Shoulders tensing, rolling back; for the first time a flicker of concern wavers Antony’s steady frown. “Following that same logic now… I’ve got quite a few centuries on you, don’t I, domine?”

He tosses Antony aside like a doll; like he weighs nothing at all. A flick of his wrist that sends the former Roman general right in the path of the fridge. The metal catches him, cradles him; door bending inward and the contents of the shelves joining the mess on the floor. The lightbulb inside shatters under the pressure and the distant, white-noise hum of the fan splutters and dies.

But this time Antony was ready. This time he leaps back to his feet without respite and brushes the fall off of his shoulder with a flippant hand. “There’s that look. That arrogance. I prefer it this way — better a fair fight than none at all.”

Everything shifts; the air, the tension, the looks on the vampires’ faces. So fast Nadya almost misses them. Maybe she would have — were she not the Bloodkeeper. But she is, and she doesn’t miss a thing.

Because she can feel it all.

Centuries piled on in staggering weight and animosity; changing both everything and, outwardly, nothing at all. But he’s leveled the playing field now. Nadya feels it. Antony, too.

They all do.

“What… are you?”

His shoulders sink slightly, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound of Isseya’s voice. Not when it’s a whisper, and not when it’s a cracked, splintered fragment of a scream. “Answer me!”

“I don’t have an answer to give.”

“Lies.”

“If I did, I would. Everything would be so much easier on all of us.”

The vampiress steadies herself on the door frame, impressions of her fingertips pressing down and breaking the drywall.

“‘All of us,’” she repeats — like she doesn’t know the language, “meaning…”

The blond vampire looks up and Nadya’s heart stops.

It’s an opening Antony cannot and will not waste. Rushing forward, fangs bared — but even he isn’t fast enough to avoid the hand that catches him by the back of the neck. Claws piercing flesh, blood spotting along his collar. He tries to turn, to see the face that caught him by surprise, but doesn’t get the chance before the grip closes down and his neck snaps with a sickening crack.

Antony’s eyes are closed before he even makes it to the ground.

Isseya steps over his body — still a body, Nadya notices, not a pile of ash — and closes the gap between herself and Cadence. One hand with fingertips still stained with Antony’s blood comes up and strokes the cut of his jaw.

The pair share the same look; like reflections. Longing, loss, pangs of regret. After a moment, Cadence finally reaches up and presses his palm against her cheek.

“I’m not him.” He whispers hoarsely.

Together they stand still; years stretching through the passing seconds. Finally Isseya lets her eyes flutter closed. The tears clinging to her dark lashes finally get the chance to fall.

“I know.” She shudders a gasp; breathes through the daggers in her chest sharper than they were all the years before. “Consider this to be my last act of free will.”

So that’s what Valdas had meant.

There’s a shine in Cadence’s eyes. He parts his lips, looks for a moment like he’s going to do it — he’s going to tell her about the Cathedral, about what happened, about…

The moment passes when Isseya steps away.

“He won’t stay down for long, resilient bastard,” she looks over her shoulder to Antony’s unconscious form, “though I’ll admit I’ve been waiting to do that for weeks now. It’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be…”

Nadya swallows. “Is he still…?” But Isseya’s sharp look cuts her off with a flinch.

“Yes, he’s still alive. And I can’t be gone when he comes to. Not if I have any intention of returning to Valdas.”

There’s no question about it. So why does Cadence ask?

“What if you came back with us? We could —”

“No.” The sharp edges, barely easing up, are back without warning. Isseya’s glare is cold and growing all the more distant. “I wouldn’t — I couldn’t. But—neither can you.” She looks between Nadya and Cadence both. “It would be a death sentence, and would make this, here, look like a kindness. Surely you know by now.”

“Nadya!”

Shit.

The anger in Jax’s growl breaks any spell that might have held them all there — maybe for eternity if they weren’t careful. Nadya dashes back into the living room and gasps, hand coming over her mouth, at the mess of mangled bruises and gaping wounds riddled across Serafine’s body.

Jax is kneeling at her side; looks up just in time to push every ounce of his frustration in one long look, before he jerks his chin up at her.

“The blood. Now.”

Nadya struggles to pull it over her head fast enough, skidding to her knees beside Jax in time for him to grab it and rip the zip apart with brute strength. He grabs one bag and forces it into her mouth; thankfully it doesn’t take much more than that for her survival instinct to kick in and fangs to descend and tear the plastic open. She takes several long drinks before her hands have the strength to grab on; reaching desperately for the second and tearing it from Jax’s grip without hesitating.

His sigh is weak, croaked and now without effort. With tentative fingers Nadya reaches up and brushes away some of his hair matted at his temple where a cut still oozes thin blood. There’s one blood bag left — she doesn’t think twice before all but forcing it into his hand.

“You too,” she insists — thankfully for them both he’s too exhausted and weak to decline.

It’s not much between the pair of them. Enough to stop the bleeding and fade most of their bruises to mottled greens and yellows but not much more. Nadya would offer her wrist, neck, ankle up to help any more if she could but she still has a few wounds of her own and her wrist is most likely very broken and not at all palatable.

Serafine slowly comes to, French mumbled and thick on her tongue as she tries to take in her surroundings. “Ad…ri…”

“He’s fine,” Nadya says — and throws a look to the window and the rope still draped over and out, “he got away. He’s safe, probably heading to the meetup point. Take it easy, you’re still healing… but…”

But she hesitates because saying anything more would be akin to lying.

Jax eases himself up with grunts of effort; helps Serafine do the same only when he’s steady on both feet. “If you think this is gonna go undiscussed, Nadya, I swear to god…”

“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have anything to heal with, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“If you hadn’t—”

Cadence and Isseya shuffle out of the kitchen together and Jax practically bites off his own tongue, cutting himself off. Nadya can feel Serafine grow stony behind her and reaches out in a meek attempt at reassurance.

“What are you idiots still doing here?” Isseya snaps. Looks briefly like she has much more to add to it but she bites her tongue instead. “You are weak, and ill-fed, and need to leave. Neither Antony nor I are gravely injured. If you’re still here when he wakes up, you’re fucked.”

“What’s going on here?” Jax snarls, but the question is aimed principally at Cadence.

“She’s giving us an opening. We need to take it.”

“She came here to kidnap Nadya!”

“No, Jax, he’s right.” Nadya doesn’t smile at the vampiress — after all the pain she’s felt at the hands of this woman she doubts she ever could. But they aren’t in any position to be looking gift horses in the mouth. “I don’t trust her, but…” The look she gives him is imploring.

What other choice to do we have right now?

“This is bull —” Jax stares at each of them in disbelief. “— this is insane! We’re not trusting her. And we’re not running. We get Adrian and Lily and we get on the first plane home. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m taking the fight to him.”

“Returning to New York is no longer an option.” Isseya meets the rebel’s glare with her own.

“I beg your fuckin’ pardon?”

The Trinity vampire sweeps a long look over them, the furrow in her brow slowly easing from disgust into… disbelief?

Raw, unfiltered disbelief at that. “You don’t know.”

“We’ve been… not here.”

“Obviously.” And both Jax and Serafine look ready to shoot down any questions she might ask, but Isseya surprises them both — she doesn’t. “Otherwise it would not have been so easy to find you, I see now. If you had known what happened… only the suicidal would have stayed somewhere he knew to find you.”

Cadence stands hunched, eyes trained down at his shoes and the bloodstains in the carpet. She’s already told him what she keeps withholding from them — awesome.

“What do you mean… what happened?” asks Nadya warily. No one else does.

“Three days ago, the last of the resisting faction was captured at the harbor. The ones you called your Clans — those who did not immediately bend the knee. I wasn’t there myself, but there were thirty, maybe forty left who were captured and taken before the Godmaker at his Court. Those who swore fealty to him were allowed to live. Those who did not…”

Her words are left hanging, but it’s not exactly hard for them to fill in. Just like it isn’t hard for Nadya to know she’s full of bullcrap — she has to be. No, really, she has to be. Because if she isn’t, that means…

That means…

“Enough of this. Go—run—hide wherever you can for as long as you can. But do not dare show your face back on his shores. He wants the Bloodkeeper,” she nods to Nadya, “he would not say why, but I don’t dare to guess. Whatever you must do, do it. But he cannot have her.”

“Tell me you’re not believing this,” mutters Jax under his breath, and from the looks of it he fully expects Serafine to take his side. Only… she doesn’t.

“Maybe not everything… but I know better than to think she would be so willing to send him to his death.” Cadence shifts under the scrutiny of the woman’s glare. Isseya, however, doesn’t seem all too perturbed by it.

“If he comes with us, we will at least be safe long enough to regroup.”

Three days ago… Because Nadya still hasn’t quite let that part go. How could they?

“Allez, Nadya, allez.” Serafine keeps a firm hand at her back, all but shoving her towards the window and the rope to freedom(?)

Instead she digs in her heels and tries to look back to Isseya, who lingers one last look at Cadence’s back before she makes for the kitchen.

“Isseya!” She calls, but goes ignored. “Isseya, wait! What happened to those who didn’t join Gaius?”

“Help me,” growls Serafine, then there’s another pair of hands helping urge Nadya out into the night.

“Isseya!”

“Nadya — stop.”

“No—shut up! Isseya! Tell me what happened!”

The shadows of the apartment swallow her up before Nadya can get her answer.

“We have to go back.”

“No, Nadya.”

“No—she needs to tell me what happened—”

“I’m sorry.”

Jax has never apologized to her before. Not even when they were facing an army of Ferals. He shouldn’t be apologizing now.

“Jax… she…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and pulls her into a one-armed embrace for safety before he begins the rappel, “I’m so sorry.”

“…No…”

He holds her tight and kicks off. Serafine and Cadence keep pace on either side; agile movements down rails and pipes towards the rapidly approaching ground.

Without another word they disappear into the night.

#bloodbound fanfiction #choices fanfiction #kamilah x mc #adrian raines #jax matsuo #lily spencer #serafine dupont #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #oc: cadence smith #oc: isseya #marc antony #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by destiny ii #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[draqcnheartstrinq]

Hate That I Want You (Part 1)

Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.

Words: 2k

Note: This series is a little experiment, let me know if you like it because I’ve got no clue if this is anything good or not XD

HTIWY Masterpost | Part 2

Seeing you walk into the Great Hall talking to Frank Longbottom every so often was a sight Sirius was never able to understand or get used to. He tried to many times but he always had the feeling something was completely going over his head. Sometimes he thought he had it all figured out, but only seconds later nothing would make sense anymore.

You, a Slytherin pure-blood with family known for their love towards the Dark Arts, talking to a guy like Frank, a Gryffindor known for his hate towards that same branch of magic.

The two of you weren’t supposed to be friends, but yet you were. And it bothered Sirius to no end.

He watched you leave each other’s sides, both with a smile and a wave, towards your own table every single time.

That’s when Sirius just had to ask the question on that one Tuesday morning. Frank hadn’t even had the time to properly settle himself on a seat before the words were leaving Sirius’ mouth.

“How do you know her and why are you friends?”

The way he had said it wasn’t very tactical either. It sounded more like an insult than a question.

A few heads turned towards the Gryffindor table, some of the Gryffindors themselves looked up and raised their eyebrows in shock. Never had Sirius ever before raised his voice towards one of his friends in public, let alone sweet Frank who nobody seemed to have a grudge with.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a problem with that”, Frank answered just as shocked as everyone else was. An annoyed look started to grow on the boy’s features as well though.

“I wouldn’t say we’re friends but I definitely haven’t got anything against her if that’s what you mean.”

James and Remus shared a confused look before the latter decided to speak up, still with a piece of scrambled egg stuffed between his lips.

“What’s wrong Padfoot? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Peter chuckled at that and decided the boys would handle it themselves, no need to get caught up in this rather unusual conversation. Normally Sirius didn’t make a fuss about things like that, people others hung out with, who you knew or why you knew them. Maybe it just wasn’t his best day, one of those days where everything just gets on your nerves.

It wasn’t that kind of day though. Sirius had woken up from an amazing night’s sleep, he had a nice shower, hummed a song on his way over to the Great Hall and sat down with a big grin on his face. The food smelled and was delicious like always, but for some reason seeing Longbottom walk in here with you right next to him left a weird taste in his mouth.

He shook his head, realising how aggressively he had just asked what was meant to be a simple question.

“Sorry Longbottom, it wasn’t meant like that. I was just curious and… kind of confused. Just… Never mind.”

Sirius’ gaze traveled to the other side of the hall, landing on your figure peacefully chatting away with some of your housemates. How much he disliked you wasn’t a secret to anyone, probably everyone in Hogwarts had to know by now and it wouldn’t surprise him if the teachers felt something was up too.

Your last name was like a threat to him, it didn’t promise any good and it left people terrified. Just your surname was enough of a reason for him to loathe you.

But the feelings were mutual. You didn’t want anything to do with him either, you never have ever since you knew about each other’s backgrounds. Both your families would get along so well, and that’s exactly why you avoided the crap out of each other.

No, you didn’t like the way your family handled things, you didn’t share their hate towards “Mudbloods”, you didn’t want to be married off against your own will to a guy you barely knew as soon as you turned 18. You hated the way others looked at you funny when you passed through the halls just because of the name you inherited.

And most of all you hated to be a pure-blood Slytherin, because “oh Merlin we’ve got another Dark Lord worshipper on our hands!”

That’s what the average person thought of you. And you hated every single bit about it.

You were proud to be a Slytherin, it defined you, it made you realise who you actually were meant to be. But being a pure-blood on top of that? That was too much.

Sirius’ stare hadn’t left you for a solid twenty seconds. That’s when the others started to take notice and follow his eyes towards your direction. They looked at Sirius in confusion once again.

“You having a hard time there, mate?”, James called out, “You’re almost burning a hole through her head.”

“Good”, Sirius simply answered breaking his line of sight to concentrate on his food again.

A few minutes went by. James, Remus and Peter got into a conversation with Marleen and Alice who came in a bit later. Lily wasn’t feeling well that day, which made James pout a little before he regained his usual smile and energy.

Sirius though, he sat in silence as did Frank, for the same reason at that.

You were still on their minds. Sirius was still silently hating you, while Frank was trying to come up with words to defend you. He felt like he had to, because never had you wronged him in any shape or form. You were just another student he got along with.

“She’s not like her family”, Frank eventually whispered to no one in particular. Of course Sirius was the only one to hear. They looked up at each other, holding the silence for a moment.

“I’m sure she isn’t to you, Frank, you’re just another pure-blood she can befriend.”

“Then why would she dislike you?”

“Because I disliked her first.”

Frank sighed in frustration, soft but still very much irritated by Sirius’ stubbornness.

“She doesn’t fall into that stigma at all!” he whisper-yelled. “She was just unfortunate to be born into a family that close-minded.”

“Then I guess it’s a total coincidence that she’s a Slytherin as well as a pure-blood? I’m sorry, Longbottom, but I don’t believe in that much coincidence but if you want to be that naive than I’m not stopping you.”

The conversation was getting heated by now, everyone could feel it. Marleen elbowed Remus and nodded towards the pair’s direction, taking everyone’s attention away from their small talk towards the two boys.

Maybe Frank should’ve shut up by then, maybe anything he said would drive Sirius even more towards pure anger but he didn’t want to keep his mouth shut. This had to be said.

“May I remind you that your brother, Regulus, is in the exact same situation as (Y/N) is?”

Sirius’ face went red, his mouth opening and closing a few times. Thoughts ran through his head, images of his brother with green robes and snake badges running around the Hogwarts Grounds.

My brother is nothing like her. He would never lower to her level.

“Don’t you dare compare my brother to her”, he finally growled towards Frank in a rather loud tone, a finger pointing towards the boy’s chest.

With those words Sirius stood up in a fury, walking towards the large heavy doors at the end of the hall. The whole room went quiet, the occasional whisper from a gossiping student ripping through the tense air.

When he disappeared out of sight his friends all shook their heads and rolled their eyes, because when would Sirius ever understand?

And when more than half of the students in the Great Hall all turned their heads your way, you couldn’t help but think that whole argument started because of you.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Leaving your usual study place in the library, clutching many books to your chest, you were on your way back towards the Slyhterin common room. Your friends were probably already waiting for you to leave for a nice day at Hogsmeade. The thought of wasting their time made you walk a little faster than you normally would, which was a big mistake on your part.

Turning the next corner you felt yourself collide with another body. Your books tumbled to the floor and the other person let a big huff of air escape from their lungs.

You didn’t need this right now.

As you found your footing and steadied your body the other student groaned in frustration.

“Watch where you’re going, (Y/L/N).”

You recognised the voice and kept staring at the floor for another second or two. All the different curse words ran through your head as you finally looked up at who you just bumped into.

Sirius Black. You really didn’t need this right now.

“I could say the same to you, Black. I guess I’m just the more polite one out of the two of us.”

You bend down, placing your knees on the floor to gather your books and get on your way, but Sirius wouldn’t have any of it.

His nose flared and his eyes narrowed in on you, like nothing could be more repulsive than having to talk to you right now. But you didn’t let it get to you, if he wanted to he could just leave right now, he wouldn’t have to look your way a second longer. He didn’t though and that was enough reason to believe he was just trying to get on your nerves.

He did that a lot and he succeeded every single time.

“I’m not the one having to pick up my books right now, am I?”

“Doesn’t that just prove my point even more? You’re not being the gentleman everyone is making you out to be”, you countered as you stood up and smoothed one hand over your skirt.

The frustration on his face was priceless, a right amount of wanting to say something and not being able to say anything.

You smiled his way making sure you looked as innocent as a newborn puppy, or at least trying to, because a cheeky grin was threatening to part your lips.

As you wanted to pass him he tightly took your free wrist and held it in front of both your faces. Of course, you should have known he wouldn’t let this slip.

To be honest, his hold on your arm hurt as his fingers tightened every few seconds but giving in wasn’t an option, it was never an option when talking to Sirius.

“Let me go, Black.” The words sounded threatening in both your ears and even you were momentarily shocked at the tone they held.

“Don’t get into my way ever again”, he whispered, trying not to attract any attention. “Or I’ll make sure you won’t ever even look my way.”

“Are you threatening me? Has Sirius Black really stooped that low?”

“It’s a warning not a threat and I hope you have understood because next time I won’t be so nice about it.”

He threw your arm against your chest, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway as he went on to wherever he wanted to go, as if nothing had even happened. You even heard him greeting someone else with his stupidly charming voice like he always did, not a second glance was given your way.

Slowly you started to get back to what you were supposed to do, but much more distressed than before. Your small steps echoed through the building every so often and a stinging pain in your wrist captured your attention.

Turning the inside of your arm towards your face you saw tiny, crescent shaped, red scratches scattered across the skin. Sirius’ nails had left their mark on your body just like his words had left the umpteenth mark in your heart.

You really hated your last name. It was like a threat, it didn’t promise any good and it left people terrified.

You being the most terrified of them all.

Taglist:

@iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @wangmangagavroche @songforhema

#sirius black #x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #imagine #fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #hp #hp imagine #hp fanfiction #the marauders #marauders #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fanfiction #sirius black x pure-blood!reader #sirius black x slytherin!reader #sirius black x pure-blood!slytherin!reader #my writing #fan writing #hate that i want you

[completelypeccable]

Two for One Deal

Part 1

Barbara knew a lot of things.

She was a genius tech wizard and had saved everyone’s lives more times that they could count based off her observation and intel alone. Square up “worlds greatest detective.”

So yeah, she knew a lot about a lot, and none of the Tall Broad Handsome crew could reach her level.

But she honestly didn’t know what to think about this.

Richard flipping Grayson.

Smile that could defuse a bomb? Eyelashes thicker than the steel plating of Switzerland’s Large Hadron Collider? Hands the size of a small country but gentler than dove feathers?

Yeah. That bastard.

She hated him. And his pretty eyes. And his squishy nose. Stupid.

Ugh.

She just couldn’t always understand him was the problem. She could take down half the criminal underworld in a single night, but it was that emotional- kill her now- acrobatics he pulled that always left her breathless and just half a step behind. Considering her living was being two steps ahead of the game... It was unnerving sometimes.

She just didn’t get it. How he was so completely gone over that insufferable little brat.

Barbara tried to be rationale, she knew she was talking about a literal child, but that squirt was the most arrogant, violent, entitled little menace on the planet.

She didn’t hate him per se, but being in the room with him for more than five minutes? Not ideal.

But Dick acted like he was the Hallmark Good Boy of the year or something. Loved the kid. It was so weird. Now, Barbara wasn’t as emotionally constipated as, say... the Batman...

She leaned forward and pressed her face against her hands.

The Batman.

Oh Bruce, she sighed. Leaving all of these orphans behind. It had been so unexpected.

How does a legend die?

They were all reeling. Which was why she was spending the week here of all places.

She was just trying to keep her guys together.

Barbara was upset, grieving, of course, but she knew her hurt was nowhere near the others’- not like the ones who lived with him and stuck by his side this whole time. Not like his kids.

Damian she couldn’t figure out. He trained a lot, but he was the least of her worries. Tim holed up in his room. He barely ate, barely slept. He only stared at the wall or researched with a single minded fury. Jason alternated between savage beat downs in the streets and disappearing for hours to who-knows-where. (Barbara did. He was doing chores or reading in the third floor office behind the couch. Like a toddler.) Steph was trying not to start a new gang war and barely passing muster. Cass kept watching movies over and over and desperately teaching herself words. She would find a body and curl up against them to cry or just lay in a sad little lump. And Dick...

Dick. He was a mess. He was trying so hard to keep everything together, but he was also taking everything on his own shoulders and practically collapsing. Barbara couldn’t stand it, the way he kept falling apart as soon as he thought he was alone. He didn’t even try to ask for help, he just broke himself into pieces again and again.

So Barbara stayed. Picked him up off the floor, tried to hold herself together and keep an eye on everyone at once.

She took off her glasses to rub her eyes. Looking back toward her screen and her never ending vigil, she noticed that there was a protein bar on the table next to her.

Huh. She wouldn’t complain. The last meal she ate was honestly too far away to reach in her memory.

Munching away, she flipped through camera views: the labs, 42nd Street, the kitchen, Memorial bank front view, the family room, the atti-

She flipped back. On the couch, Dick sat curled forward sobbing into his hands.

It was heartbreaking.

Jason popped his head in the room.

“You hear it too?”

“It’s Dick,” she sighed, waving at the screen in front of her. “I was just about to head down.”

The large black boots thudded evenly toward her, thumbs hooking into belt loops.

“I was on my way down. Goldie.. well, Dicktopus has been trying to be everybody’s everything. Been waiting on a breakdown.”

“You’re not mad at him? For trying to be Batman?”

Jason scowled, glancing from the screen to the corner. “Bastard’s gonna kill himself. Course I’m pissed.”

Barbara just watched his face. Sometimes people forgot Jason... well, he was still before-Jason even when he was angry or unstable. Pit-Jason was put to rest, but when those big feelings came out, everyone still tended to spook.

“I’m just gonna-“

“No, it’s fine, I was already-“

The tinny cries cut off abruptly, and they both stared.

Dick was sniffing, wiping his face with his arm.

“Didn’t see you there, buddy,” his smile was disgustingly fake.

Damian stood awkwardly for a moment. He watched Dick with wide eyes.

“I’m just gonna-“ Dick made to stand up and Damian pushed him down.

“Stop,” he ordered. “Stay.”

Six pairs of eyes followed him out of the room. Dull clanks came from the speakers. Dick furrowed his brow, scrubbed his face, but stayed on the couch.

In a moment, he was back and marched in with... a bowl of cereal?

“You have not eaten in 36 hours. You will grow weak and useless if you continue in this manner,” he scolded, shoving the bowl in Dick’s shocked face.

He blinked up at him, and Damian’s scowl deepened.

“It is not poisoned. Look,” he hastily sipped the milk.

Dick stared. Slowly, large hands took the bowl, gently touching the small fingers.

He paused. His mouth opened, shut, huffed. Dick smiled a wobbly thing at the kid and took a bite. The crunch, crunch, crunch echoed in the silent halls. Cereal. He got him cereal.

Damian crossed his arms and looked pointedly at the door.

Tears began their way down the man’s face again, and he set the bowl down to wipe at them.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he whispered.

Damian shifted from one foot to the other, glancing to the other side of the couch. Dick shifted just slightly. A pause, and Damian sat next to him, a foot away. Dick grabbed the bowl. He finished it in less than a minute, then put it back down and leaned against the cushions.

Damian scooted close, pressing slightly against his arm.

No one moved. Dick froze. He glanced down, not even turning his head. Barbara held her breath.

Damian stared at his hands.

“Touching... touching people makes the burning in your chest... makes it hurt less?”

“Yeah,” Dick murmured, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yes,” came the echo.

Damian picked up Dick’s hand and placed it on his back, scooting closer still.

Dick breathed deep, gently, gently pulling him against his side in a halfway hug.

He began to cry again, his face resting on Damian’s head. It was softer this time, and he held the small boy with reverence.

Barbara looked at Jason, wide eyes mirrored on the other face.

They felt like they were invading a private moment.

Jason scuffed a toe on the carpet. “Well, looks like we’re not needed here.”

Barbara nodded dumbly.

“I’m gonna go... finish my thing.”

As his footsteps faded, and the screen switched to watching Spoiler knock a man’s teeth out, Barbara glanced at the wrapper in her hand.

She hadn’t gotten it for herself.

She smiled. Maybe sometimes she could be wrong.

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #dickbabs for the wholsome family #i wrote this at work sorry for the quality lol #oh he baby

[its-negans-lucille]

Beyond the Veil

Ships: Mysterio x (M or F) Reader, (M  or F) Reader x  Quentin Beck Words: 1,440 Warnings: cursing and minor violence Category: Angst if you squint Summary: “It was all an act: he had mastered the art of mysterious manipulation”

The cold air caressed your skin, sending goose-pimples up your arms and a delightful tingle down your spine. It was the celebration of lights as rivers of shimmering diamonds and jewels seemed to run through the street, illuminating the sins of man. They reflected what may have been seen were it not for the thick layer of smog that lay upon Prague.

You had expected it to be an average night, simply preparing to watch the droves of tourists be conned out of their money for something as simple as a falsetto-glass light.

That was, however, until a chorus of screams began: a dreadful symphony for the damned.

You leaned forward from where you perched alongside the many gargoyles, mimicking their hunched over form as you surveyed the chaos swiftly unfolding below you. A huge beast, formed from the depths of hell itself was raving around the celebration. It’s fire seemed to dwarf the stars themselves as a cacophony of chaos followed in its wake. You continued leaning forward; if a gust of wind came along you would fall as swiftly as a tower of playing cards.

 Though, soon wind was the least of your problems. You saw out of your peripherals a huge object fly at you. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact that would tear you from this world far too quickly. But, to your immense surprise, such impact was much smaller than you had prepared for.

You were suddenly flying through the air, your hands grasping on anything you possibly could: something, anything for a foothold. You were plummeting downwards while you held onto a small, mechanical objects that, apparently, couldn’t hold your weight. The sound of wind rushing in your ears was only overcome by the immense whirring emitted by the object in question.

You hit the ground with a deafening crunch. You sat up after a few short seconds, rubbing the base of your spine which now throbbed painfully. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see the monster ravaging the street just beside you. Through your lashes you made out no monster, no carnage, just a small army of drones humming through the air.

Your eyebrows creased in a frown as you slowly stood up. The street seemed almost untouched.

 Almost being the key word.

A tall man stood in the middle of the chaos of drones. Clad in a suit that would usually be worn for special effects, his face encased in what looked to be a gold-fish bowl while two more drones illuminated his face with blue light, evidently projecting it somewhere. The man was yelling, his voice trembling so that if you didn’t have your gaze fixed upon him you’d think that he were in grave peril. Swiftly, realisation dawned on you.

 It was all an act.

A perfectly orchestrated, beautiful art of manipulation. These monsters, these Elementals, as the news media had dubbed them, were simply pixels and organic sounds put together for such a desired effect that one may get in the cinema. This man, whoever he was, was profiting off the fear of innocent people: people who just wanted to celebrate the stars as they winked in the sky.

Such a fury that you hadn’t felt in a long time began coursing through your veins, keeping you alive just as much as oxygen. You began to advance on the man who had his back turned, blissfully unaware of the hurricane set directly at him.

“Run, Peter!” He sounded positively adamant. “I’ll take care of this!” 

With that, he waved his hand and the drones dropped their magnetic lights. The man took a brief sigh of relief, removing the glass orb that haloed his face. He rolled his head on his neck, just as one does after doing a particularly taxing task before you raised your fist and hit him in the head.

You sent him sprawling to the floor, curses flooding from his mouth as if a dam had broken. You clutched at your dominant hand, rubbing it as a stream of expletives escaped from between your lips. You were positively sure that the crack you’d heard when your fist collided with this mysterious man’s cheek was that of your own knuckles breaking.

“What the fuck?!” The man swiftly regained his footing. He watched you with eyes drowned in madness. “What are’re you doing here?”

You took a step back as he advanced at you but were horrified to feel the cold sting of metal against your back as one of his drones blocked your escape route. You grimaced as this man invaded your personal space.

 “Answer me.” His voice was low with an element that reminded you of cement being mixed. His eyes flashed with something akin to respect as you tilted your chin up at him, finally meeting his gaze.

His sapphire eyes dragged you in, making you briefly forget the chaos surrounding you. His straight nose was framed by magnificent cheekbones. His jaw were coated in a soft dusting of hair which only continued to accent his thick lips. But those eyes. If they were drowned in madness, you were swimming in it.

“Didn’t you hear me?” He growled, his eyes flashing, dragging you in like a black hole, deeper and deeper and dee-

“You’re Mysterio,” You gasped, your eyes flitting wide with surprise.

The man raised his hand and suddenly you felt a cold barrel at the back of your skull. Your heart started beating molten adrenaline through your veins. Your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Answer. My. Question.” He repeated, his breath on on your ear. 

“I fell! A drone- it hit me and I fell into this-” You gestured widely around at the gestating illusion moving like a wave. “You faked it all, didn’t you?” You asked, finally returning your gaze back to Mysterio’s. 

“Quick to catch on,” He began pacing around you. “The illusion should continue, however, even if one passes the boundaries of the machines.” A finger came up to caress a strand of hair framing your face. “And yet, here you are.”

You had to swiftly accept the whiplash his mood had given you. One moment he looked as if he were going to murder you and the next his hot breath was a hairs breath away from your ear. You remained vigilant, however, of the muzzle of the gun placed at the crown of your head.

“How?” Mysterio asked, finally stopping in front of you. The sounds of screaming became distant, forgettable, even, under his intense scrutiny. He watched you like you were a puzzle he designed to complete. When you didn’t reply immediately he waved his hand and the gun pressed further into your hair. “How?”

“I’m a tech student- I work on animation in film.” You stuttered quickly. “Oh? Well tell me…” He was so close that you had to tilt your face upwards to continue to meet his dizzying gaze. 

“Can we improve?” His lips wrapped around the last word sinuously. How could someone make such an ordinary word sound like even devils would blush at it.

“Well, I-” You tried desperately to think of a way out of this situation with your brains firmly where they had started. “Some of the animation could be- be smoother?” You finally vocalised, watching the volatile man in front of you with a wary gaze.

“Could we now?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“I believe so… yes,” Your voice grew steadily stronger with each word spoken.

“Well, in that case-” He waved his hand and the muzzle of the gun suddenly retracted- “May I be so forward in offering you a position.”

“A position?” You asked, it was your turn to frown now, your brows knitting together in confusion.

“Yes: join my team if you really think we have so much to improve on.” He was enjoying this, the taunting of you. How his eyes twinkled with a mischief far too boyish for your liking. “Unless you want me to… how do I put this,” He tapped his chin in foe-thought, “Dispose of you.”

You stomach dropped with an unpleasant lurch. 

“Think it over, I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” Mysterio even had the audacity to wink.

“But- I-” You stuttered, your mind blank from all cognitive thought.

“Quentin?! Quentin are you there?!” A young, pubescent voice called from his earpiece.

“Ah, sorry, darling.” He smiled, certainly not sorry at all. “That’s my que to go.”He stepped on a drone, his eyes never leaving yours.“I’ll come for your answer tomorrow.”

With that, Mysterio (Quentin?) left and life would never be the same.

***

thank you for reading!! have a great day!

#Far From Home #Gif not mine #Mysterio Fanfic #Mysterio #Mysterio Fanfiction #Mysterio x reader #Quentin Beck #Quentin Beck Fanfic #Quentin Beck Fanfiction #Quentin Beck x Reader #Reader x Mysterio #Reader x Quentin Beck #Spiderman Far From Home #Spiderman: Far From Home #jake gyllenhaal

[dweemeister]

A list of all films featured in 2020′s 31 Days of Oscar

This is the exhaustive list of all 327 short- and feature-length films featured during this year’s 31 Days of Oscar marathon (down from 388 in 2019, up from 296 in 2018). Every single film that was featured since January 29 was nominated for an Academy Award or won an Honorary Oscar. We started the marathon a few days early this year because of the earlier-than-usual timing of this year’s ceremony (which placed it at Day 12 of this year’s marathon). Thank goodness we’ll go back to usual in 2021 and 2022, where the former’s ceremony will be placed on Day 28 if I, by tradition, start the marathon on February 1, 2021.

Best Picture winners and the one (and only) winner for Unique and Artistic Production are in bold - okay the latter was not featured for this year’s marathon (but perhaps next time!). Asterisked (*) films are films I haven’t seen in their entirety as of the publishing of this post.

7th Heaven (1927)*

The Circus (1928)

The Divine Lady (1929)*

Disraeli (1929)*

The Love Parade (1929)*

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

Anna Christie (1930)*

The Divorcee (1930)*

The Green Goddess (1930)*

Raffles (1930)*

Five Star Final (1931)*

Little Caesar (1931)

The Sin of Madelon Claudet (1931)

Grand Hotel (1932)

One Hour with You (1932)*

Shanghai Express (1932)

Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)

Little Women (1933)*

The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934)*

The Gay Divorcee (1934)

It Happened One Night (1934)

The Thin Man (1934)

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935)*

Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)

Naughty Marietta (1935)

Top Hat (1935)

Broadway Melody of 1936 (1936)*

Fury (1936)*

The Garden of Allah (1936)

The Great Ziegfeld (1936)

Swing Time (1936)

Camille (1937)*

Grand Illusion (1937, France)

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

Three Smart Girls (1937)*

Wee Willie Winkie (1937)*

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Dark Victory (1939)

Gone with the Wind (1939)

Gunga Din (1939)

Ninotchka (1939)

Wuthering Heights (1939)*

All This, and Heaven Too (1940)

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

Pinocchio (1940)

Rebecca (1940)

A Wild Hare (1940 short)

Blossoms in the Dust (1941)*

The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941)*

Hold Back the Dawn (1941)*

Lady Be Good (1941)*

Meet John Doe (1941)

Sergeant York (1941)

Casablanca (1942)

Der Fuehrer’s Face (1942 short)

In Which We Serve (1942)*

Now, Voyager (1942)

Road to Morocco (1942)

Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

Destination Tokyo (1943)*

A Guy Named Joe (1943)*

This Land is Mine (1943)*

Marie Curie (1943)*

The North Star (1943)*

The Song of Bernadette (1943)

The Yankee Doodle Mouse (1943 short)

Double Indemnity (1944)

Gaslight (1944)

Going My Way (1944)

It Happened Tomorrow (1944)*

Laura (1944)

National Velvet (1944)

The Uninvited (1944)*

Brief Encounter (1945)

Caesar and Cleopatra (1945)*

Leave Her to Heaven (1945)*

Pride of the Marines (1945)*

The Southerner (1945)

They Were Expendable (1945)*

Vacation from Marriages (1945)*

Great Expectations (1946)*

The Green Years (1946)*

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946)*

The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947)*

Black Narcissus (1947)

Crossfire (1947)

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947)

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947)

Green Dolphin Street (1947)*

T-Men (1947)*

The Red Shoes (1948)

Romance on the High Seas (1948)*

It’s a Great Feeling (1949)*

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)*

Little Women (1949)*

Mighty Joe Young (1949)*

Neptune’s Daughter (1949)*

She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)

The Third Man (1949)

All About Eve (1950)

La Ronde (1950, France)*

Ace in the Hole (1951)

An American in Paris (1951)

Quo Vadis (1951)

Royal Wedding (1951)

When Worlds Collide (1951)*

The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)

Le Plaisir (1952, France)*

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

The Band Wagon (1953)

From Here to Eternity (1953)

Lili (1953)

Mogambo (1953)*

The Story of Three Loves (1953)*

La Strada (1954, Italy)

On the Waterfront (1954)

Seven Samurai (1954, Japan)

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)

No Hunting (1955 short)*

Around the World in 80 Days (1956)

The Burmese Harp (1956, Japan)

Friendly Persuasion (1956)

Giant (1956)

Lust for Life (1956)

Somebody Up There Likes Me (1956)*

Written on the Wind (1956)*

Funny Face (1957)

Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957)

Tammy and the Bachelor (1957)*

12 Angry Men (1957)

Witness for the Prosecution (1957)

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Gigi (1958)

Separate Tables (1958)*

Ben-Hur (1959)

North by Northwest (1959)

The Young Philadelphians (1959)*

The Alamo (1960)

The Entertainer (1960)*

Pepe (1960)*

Spartacus (1960)

Two Women (1960, Italy)*

Beep Prepared (1961 short)

Days of Wine and Roses (1962)

How the West Was Won (1962)

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

Sweet Bird of Youth (1962)

The Caretakers (1963)*

Cheyenne Autumn (1964)

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

That Man from Rio (1964, France)*

My Fair Lady (1964)

Doctor Zhivago (1965)

The Shop on Main Street (1965, Czechoslovakia)*

The Sound of Music (1965)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966)

A Man for All Seasons (1966)

The Professionals (1966)

Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)*

The Graduate (1967)

The Jungle Book (1967)

The Producers (1967)

The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967, France)*

Funny Girl (1968)

Ice Station Zebra (1968)*

The Lion in Winter (1968)*

Planet of the Apes (1968)

True Grit (1969)

Z (1969, Algeria)

Dodes'ka-den (1970, Japan)

Woodstock (1970)

Carnal Knowledge (1971)*

The Emigrants (1971, Sweden)*

Cabaret (1972)

Cries and Whispers (1972, Sweden)

The Godfather (1972)

The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)*

Travels with My Aunt (1972)*

Papillon (1973)

The Sting (1973)

The Four Musketeers (1974)*

The Godfather: Part II (1974)

Young Frankenstein (1974)

Dersu Uzala (1975, Soviet Union)

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

Shampoo (1975)*

The Sunshine Boys (1975)*

Network (1976)

Taxi Driver (1976)

A Special Day (1977, Italy)*

Star Wars (1977)

Autumn Sonata (1978, Sweden)

Superman (1978)

The Swarm (1978)*

Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)

Kagemusha (1980, Japan)

Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears (1980, Soviet Union)*

An American Werewolf in London (1981)*

Mephisto (1981, Hungary)*

Annie (1982)

An Officer and a Gentleman (1982)*

Victor/Victoria (1982)

Educating Rita (1983)*

Terms of Endearment (1983)

Dune (1984)*

A Passage to India (1984)*

Out of Africa (1985)

Ran (1985, Japan)

Witness (1985)*

Aliens (1986)

Luxo Jr. (1986 short)

Empire of the Sun (1987)

The Last Emperor (1987)

Bull Durham (1988)*

Mississippi Burning (1988)*

Dead Poets Society (1989)

Field of Dreams (1989)

Dances with Wolves (1990)

Ghost (1990)*

Boyz n the Hood (1991)*

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Aladdin (1992)

Unforgiven (1992)

The Firm (1993)*

The Wrong Trousers (1993 short)*

Forrest Gump (1994)

Il Postino (1994, Italy)

Little Women (1994)*

Casino (1995)*

Toy Story (1995)

Emma (1996)*

Star Trek: First Contact (1996)

Life Is Beautiful (1997, Italy)

The Old Lady and the Pigeons (1997 short, France)*

Saving Private Ryan (1998)

The Insider (1999)

Toy Story 2 (1999)

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000, Taiwan)

Gladiator (2000)

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001)

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

The Crime of Padre Amaro (2002, Mexico)*

Treasure Planet (2002)

The Fog of War (2003)*

The Triplets of Belleville (2003, France)*

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004, Japan)

Walk the Line (2005)*

Babel (2006)*

The Departed (2006)

Letters from Iwo Jima (2006)

Atonement (2007)*

Ratatouille (2007)

The Hurt Locker (2008)

Kung Fu Panda (2008)

Waltz with Bashir (2008, Israel)

Precious (2009)*

The Secret of Kells (2009)

Inception (2010)

Toy Story 3 (2010)

A Separation (2011, Iran)

Amour (2012, Austria)

War Witch (2012, Canada)*

Omar (2013, Palestine)*

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013, Japan)

12 Years a Slave (2013)

Timbuktu (2014, Mauritania)

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Hidden Figures (2016)

Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)

Dear Basketball (2017 short)

Negative Space (2017 short)

The Shape of Water (2017)

BlacKkKlansman (2018)

Roma (2018, Mexico)

The nine nominees for Best Picture, including the winner, Parasite (2019, South Korea)

The fifteen nominees for the short film categories (2019)

Ad Astra (2019)

American Factory (2019)*

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

For Sama (2019)*

Honeyland (2019, North Macedonia)*

How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World (2019)

I Lost My Body (2019, France)

Judy (2019)

Klaus (2019)

Knives Out (2019)

The Lighthouse (2019)

Pain and Glory (2019, Spain)

Rocketman (2019)

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

Toy Story 4 (2019)

The Two Popes (2019)*

#31 Days of Oscar