#women are always like living under threat of death so we just kind of...roll out w the sortie sksksk

[romana-after-dark]

Room’s on Fire: Bonus Chapter: Go Insane

In the Room's on Fire universe, Jonah's POV. Takes place the day before the pilot.

Summary: Jonah is told who he will be escorting to the ceremony. Iris pities her father.

Warnings: General dark themes of ROF, do not read if that' not your thing. Mentions of abuse, SA, alcoholism, father-daughter strain, death wish, all that. By clicking read more you understand I cannot warn against everything.

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

"Two kinds of people in this world Winners, losers I lost my power in this world Because I did not use it And I go insane like I always do And I call your name, she's a lot like you Two kinds of trouble in this world Living, dying I lost my power in this world And the rumors are flying" Go Insane, Lindsey Buckingham

Drinking was the only way to get through the day, most of the time. Jonah functioned with a buzz most days, something to dull the ache, something to make looking at Iris sweating in the kitchen, bags under her eyes as she slaves away because of him. Something to make it bearable as he watches her dancing with Reyansh, knowing he’ll never hold her like that again. It’s the only way he can suffer through life knowing Jessica is dead just for being his wife. 

Knowing all the women and men he’s loved are dead. Not all were his fault, but even if they weren’t… he felt like everything he touches burned down.

Knowing nearly everyone he’s loved even non romantically was dead, and that just meant Iris and Rey were next.

Knowing once Iris is dead, there was no reason for him to be alive.

“Jonah” Santiago walked into his room without knocking. Jonah wasn’t allowed locks. 

Jonah rolled his eyes before rolling over. He didn’t like Santiago. Hated him. Yeah, honestly, the fact he was a sniveling little psychopath brat was his fault, seeing as he was the main male figure in his life. Jonah probably fucked up that chubby little toddler too. 

“What?” No need for niceties and formalities. Jonah has known Santiago and Frankie since before they could talk.

“We found our madonna. You gotta bring her here tomorrow for the wedding.”

Jonah rubbed his eyes. “What the hell is a madonna?” Grunting, he began to sit up. He couldn’t keep up with this bullshit anymore, Beatriz liked to change things.

“The madonna.” He said, as if it was obvious. “She’s gonna marry us, give birth to the savior?” Nothing.

“What the fuck is a savior?”

Santiago groaned, rolling his eyes. “The one mighty and strong? Savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?”

“Santi what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Jonah.”

“Oooohhhh” Jonah said with a sarcastic edge, rubbing his bleary eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the messiah.”

Santi shot him a look so dirty Jonah wondered if he’d take out his gun and shoot him for that, but Jonah wasn’t really sure he cared enough to try and stop it.

Instead, he continued. “The savior.” He corrected sharply. “And I think you’re well aware of our doctrine, seeing as you spent more time with my mother than I did.”

“Your mom kept me a little too busy to worry much about theology.”

Santiago stared at him for a long time after that. “You know, I don't really know why I kept you around. I could’ve just burned you alongside Marcus.”

“Probably should’ve.” He thought about it sometimes. Would’ve been easier. Sometimes, Jonah wished he would’ve died right there with his friend instead of drinking himself to death, wallowing in his guilt every day. But, as always, Santiago was quick to remind him why he couldn’t just swallow the barrel of a gun.

Bent over, hands on his knees, Santi got to Jonah’s eye level. “But then who would be here to protect Iris? It’d be a shame if she had to suffer more for the sins of her father.”

As good a threat as Jonah’s ever heard. He sighed. “Who's the lucky lady?”

And then Santiago said her name, and Jonah’s blood ran cold, more sober than he’d been in a week.

“You know her?” Santiago asked, and Jonah couldn’t tell if he was taunting him or not. “Marcus’s kid?”

“Yes, I’m familiar.” He was more than familiar. He’d been following her life as closely as he could while remaining discreet. It was the least he could do after Marcus took the fall. He’d watched he grow from a traumatized 12 year old forced to dance as her father burned to death next to her, to a shy, reverent, respectful young woman of 22 years. Jonah couldn’t say she’d adjusted well; she was nervous, jerky movements and startling at loud noises, she didn’t have a single friend. From what he knew of her prior to the uprising, she was an awkward child already: inward, quiet, thoughtful. Social interactions didn’t come easy to her, but she was devout and had a talent in painting at a young age. The few friends she had were gone when her father was outed as a traitor, and for 10 years she was estranged from her community. 

Now, she was about to be thrust into one of the most powerful roles there was for women.

“Yeah, I’m familiar… what exactly is she doing?”

Santi explained it all, how she was to be married to all of them, pregnant with their child, be the Madonna, the mother (but not the Divine Mother, he clarified).

Married to all 4 of them, each with their own issued a girl as sensitive as her would suffer with.

Santiago and his constantly changing moods, the flashed of fire and rage and unpredictable cold.

Will with his charm, his golden tongue, his ability to talk you out of the good and into the bad that serves him.

Ben and his addictions: alcoholism, coke and a fuck ton of sex with everyone he could get his hands on, despite breaking Frankie’s heart.

And Frankie…

Frankie was softer, kind, a lover at heart caught in a love triangle he never wanted. Francisco was a broken down man, and a girl as gentle and devoted to her gods as she was would give every piece of herself to fill the cracks.

“Think you can handle it?” Santi asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, whatever” Jonah took out his bottle again, taking multiple big chugs to numb that growing panic. He’d done everything he could to keep her under the radar for Marcus and yet he was the one taking her right into the den of vipers.

Santi mumbled a swear. “Just have her at the house by 2 pm for Iris to dress her and help her get her thing in the carriage.” He almost left, walking out the door before turning around. “Lay one single hand on her, and I’ll throw Iris to Ben, got it?”

Jonah couldn’t help but glare at the younger man. “She’s 30 years younger than me, Santiago. That’s disgusting.”

Santi shrugged. “She’s about the same age Delilah was.” And walked off.

He knew that’d shut Jonah up.

World spinning, Jonah laid back down and rubbed his eyes, trying to fight back tears of frustration. He was failing, constantly. He failed Jessica, Delilah, Marcus, Iris and now he would literally be walking the only thing left of Marcus, and innocent child, traumatized and desperate for affection that was stripped away from her at a young age. She ripe for the picking, ready to do anything to feel loved.

Anger at himself only growing, Jonah’s feet kick as he growled and pulled on his hair. He was a fucking failure of a father, husband and friend. Everyone he loved would be dead, including his daughter, the one who mattered most and was suffering because of him. She deserved different. She deserved better. Better than him. She deserved a happy life with Reyansh and he ruined all prospects of that for her and she would die miserable and hating him just like everyone else. 

“You’re fucking pathetic.” He announced to himself, glancing over to see himself in the mirror. Had he always looked this old? No… no he had some good years left in him still… he had to get his shit together. 

Marcus would absolutely never, ever just lay down and drink himself to death. He wouldn’t just wallow in his fucking misery. Marcus would fight for change every chance he had, and Marcus would never in a million years have just taken Iris to this fucking house left her. He’d have protected Iris like she was his own.

Jonah sat up and stumbled to the mirror. He looked fucking awful. Uncombed hair and a gray beard, looking like he hasn’t slept in years. He had to fucking pull himself together. He had to help Marcus’s kid survive the whirlwind she was walking into. 

He needed to fucking shave.

*

Iris heard a crash from her dads room. She almost didn’t go investigate; she wanted to sleep. But then she heard the sound of vomiting, and as much as she wanted to have as little involvement in her fathers binge drinking, fucking, moping around, she couldn’t let it go.

“Jonah?” She called, walking into his room. At first Iris didn’t see him, but then she saw two legs sticking out of the bathroom. Walking over, she found him propped up against the tub that had puke in it and blood on his face. He was gripping a razor. “Dad!” Iris ran to him, taking the razor out of his hand. He was too drunk to behandling that. 

“I’m-” Hickup. “Fine, honey.”

“Why are you bleeding!”

“I was trying to shave.” Jonah’s words were slurred, head bobbing a bit as he chuckled. “It didn’t go well.”

Iris closed her eyes and sighed. For a moment, she had thought he was trying to hurt himself, leaving her behind like the coward he was… No, he was just shaving. Once again, she wanted to walk away, go find Rey and spend her limited freetime with her lover… but fuck, he locked pathetic like this. Half his beard shaved off, bleeding, puke on his lips and about ready to pass out. 

“C’mon, up” Iris assisted her dad in standing long enough to sit on the toilet where she cleaned off his face and rinsed the puke down the drain. Then, she covered his face in shaving cream. Careful of his fresh cut, which wasn’t all that deep, Iris bent over Jonah and carefully shaved his face, her non dominant hand tenderly holding him still. She tried not to look at him, looking up at her with his sad brown eyes. She didn’t want to feel more sorry for him than she already did. She was supposed to be angry.

After patting his face dry, Iris slung his arm over her shoulder and walked Jonah to bed.

“I don’t deserve you.�� He mumbled as she pulled the blanket over him. 

She wanted to say no, you don’t. You were never there for me. You never put me first. You didn’t protect me . But that would get them nowhere.

“Go to sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow.”

 He started snoring almost immediately. Iris bent over and kissed his cheek.

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

Jonah Jonah Jonah.... he's trying his best.

Go Insane is soooooooooo Jonah coded.

I've been learning about the mormons for my research apaper, so "the one mighty and strong" is now joining terms for the baby alongside "the savior of the broke, the beaten and the damned"

I'm so eepy and must go to work. chapter 12 is slow going. Got writers block rn so im sorry. school comes first.

you guys voted rey your fav oc which made me so happy. I love my lil guy.

@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa @mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5 @pixielou5

#rooms on fire #jonah hanson #santiago garcia #iris hanson #dark triple frontier #triple frontier

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 10

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

Steve ripped his hand away from your throat and he took a large step backwards, far away from you. To say you were disappointment was an understatement.  What did you do wrong?  Why was he acting like your skin had burned him?  You would give anything to feel his hands back on you.  

As Bucky approached, you could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t stop looking at Steve.  Your eyes bore into him, pleading, begging for him to touch you again.  But it was no use.  Fear flooding throughout you.  He was going to leave you wasn’t he?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded, “Open her door.”

The door to your room opened and Steve, much gentler this time, pulled you into your room.  “You are to stay in here until I figure out what to do with you.”

As Steve left, he slammed the door shut.  Your jaw clenched as you leaped forward and to your dismay, found the door locked.  

“ARGH!” you screamed, fists pounding on the door.  “FUCK YOU STEVE!  I FUCKING HATE YOU!  OPEN THE DOOR!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR AND LET ME OUT!”

~~~

“What the hell is happening?” Bucky asked as he and Steve made their way into the living room.  The sounds of your screaming getting quieter the farther they moved away.  

Steve sat down on the couch, head in hands and elbows resting on his knees.  He didn’t even know what to think of the last ten minutes that transpired.  He felt the couch dip next to him, Bucky sitting down, worry etched in his eyes.  

Steve let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he turned to face Bucky.  “We got into a fight upstairs in the kitchen.  She had been awake all night working and didn’t even go to bed.  I scolded her.  Told her she needed to get to bed and get rest.  She flipped her shit Buck,” Steve spoke.  The anger he had was gone now, replaced with his own worry.  “She threw a glass plate at my head.”

“What?” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  

“Yeah,” Steve replied, not even believing it himself.  

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes.  “What was with your hand on her neck then?”

Again, Steve shook his head. “She did that Buck.  She put my hand on her neck.  It’s like she wasn’t herself.  There was something dark behind her eyes.  It didn’t feel right.”

“I mean, she has seemed like she’s been a bit more agitated lately.  Have you noticed that too?”

Steve nodded, agreeing with Bucky.  You had seemed more irritably and agitated over the last few days when they called you to check in with you.  But they didn’t think anything of it.  

“Maybe there is something she’s not telling us,” Bucky spoke up, breaking the silence over the two men. “We can always have Stark try to look into things.”

Steve thought about it for a moment.  He wanted to trust you and preferred not to check into your background.  But at the same time, if this is something serious, he wanted to be able to help you.  He wanted you, him and Bucky to be a solid trio together.  He didn’t want any problems to come between you three.  

“Yeah.  I’ll talk to Tony about it.”

~~~

The carpet was beginning to wear down as you paced back and forth in your room.  The door was still locked.  You felt like a caged lion, ready to attack.  Every few minutes you checked the door only to find it still locked. They couldn’t keep you locked in here forever, could they?  No, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You were unsure of how long you had been locked up when there came a knock at your door.

“Y/N, can we come in?” Steve asked, voice firm but no hint of anger and that only pissed you off even more.  

“Fuck you Steve!” you yelled as you kicked the door, hoping he heard it.

“Y/N,” Bucky began to say but you cut him off.

“Fuck you too Bucky!”

“Hey!  What did I do?” Bucky asked, hurt in his voice.

You felt like you were spinning completely out of control.  The last time it got this bad, you were with John and it was because he took your medications from you.  He told you that you didn’t need to be on them.  Sure enough, you began to act out and John didn’t like it one bit.  When you were punished for acting out in front of him, the punishments were always physical in some way.  Is that why you were pent up more than ever?  Because John always beat the anger out of you when you acted this way?

“Just leave me alone!” you roared as tears streamed down your cheeks.  So much anger and sadness and hate was swirling inside of you and you didn’t know how to cope or deal with it.  

You needed to drown your sorrows, you needed to get out of your head, you needed to feel pain.  It was in that moment, you knew what you had to do.

Marching into the bathroom, you pulled out your makeup bag from under the counter and dug through until you found silver box cutter.  

Taking the blade out, you rolled your sleeve up.  It had been years since you had cut.  Because John always helped with the pain.  He was the one that gave you the pain and that always helped ease the outburst.

Placing the silver metal to your skin, you pushed down.  Blood seeped out of the cut as you dragged the blade across your skin, back and forth. Instantly you began to feel relief. Your mind was fixated on the burning pain of your wrist rather than being stuck in your head.  Blood smeared across your delicate wrist by the time you were done.  There wasn’t enough blood to be concerned about, no mass amount of blood loss or anything like that.  But it was enough.  Enough to get out of your head, even if it was briefly.

After washing off the blood, only deep red gashes were left on your skin and you pulled your sleeve back down; the razor blade going right back into your makeup bag and under the counter.

Now you were exhausted. Your bed was calling your name and you curled up into your silk sheets.  You cried yourself to sleep.

~~~

It was dark when you woke up.  You winced when you brushed your arm against your thigh; the pain a welcome feeling.  

Looking at the clock, it was just after midnight.  And you weren’t feeling much better.  Sure, the pain helped with the anger, but now you just wanted to drown your feelings. And you wanted a cigarette.   Lucky for you there was a 24/7 hour liquor store a few blocks away from the tower.  

Changing into a pair of dark washed skinny jeans, you put a long black and gray flannel over your long sleeved shirt and slipped on a pair of shoes.  

Grabbing your credit card and I.D., you headed to the door.  Where you stopped dead in your tracks.  They had locked you in here.  Holding your breath, you turned the door knob and nearly jumped for joy at the fact that the door was now unlocked.  

Walking down the hallway, you flipped off Steve’s door with your middle finger, pushed open the door to the stairs and ran like a bat out of hell.

~~~

That evening, Steve lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  Bucky had been called on a last minute short mission with Natasha.  

Steve couldn’t comprehend what had happened to you.  Why were you acting out all of a sudden?  Was he and Bucky not giving you enough attention?  Was there something that you were hiding from them that they could possibly help you with?  He had seen the anger in your eyes.  Heard the anger in your voice.  He didn’t know you could even have that kind of anger inside of you.  From the short amount of time that he had known you, he just didn’t think it possible.  You seemed perfect.  Sure, everyone had flaws, but when he was being a total jerk to you that first night you met, you still forgave him.  Not everyone would have done that.  

As he lay in bed, his mind replayed memories of him and Bucky in the past during the war.  He could understand the anger that you had, even though he didn’t know the reasoning behind it.  When him and Bucky were in the war, they had so much anger in them too.  It was because of the war.  The war did things to them.  They had been rough with women during the war because of it.  At the time, they only had each other’s marks.  They liked to share women together.  Hell, Steve had to admit it was nice getting that anger out. They never once hit the women; that wasn’t in their nature.   But god were they rough with them in bed.  He found out that some women even liked it, which honestly surprised him for the 40’s.  

But that was back then. When he woke up from the ice, he had noticed he had another new mark right below Bucky’s and he was delighted. He had another soulmate out there and he’d have a chance to be happy again since Bucky was gone.  Or so he thought.  When he found out Bucky was alive and well, he was even more ecstatic. To have his best friend, his brother back and to share a woman together was a dream for them.  

He hadn’t had any of that anger recently, not like he had in the war.  Until now.  Now, he and the team kept going in circles trying to find the new leader of Hydra.   But nothing was working.  And now he had you to deal with.  You acting out the way you were was making him furious.

Just then, Steve was alerted to an email.  It was from Tony.  Steve asked him if he could look into your past and Tony had come through.  

He sat up and turned the lamp on, scrolling through the email Tony had sent you.  It was police files about your ex John Smith.  He kept scrolling through, reading the words at a quick glance until he came upon a video.  He clicked play.

“And how often did he hit and rape you,” the police officer who sat across from you asked.

Steve noticed how small you looked, curled in on yourself.  He could see bruises on your face, your lip split open.  

“As often as he wanted to,” you replied with a soft shrug. “Mainly when I acted out though. If I did or said something he didn’t like, that’s when I would get it the worst.”

The cop spoke up.  “So he thought that beating and raping you would turn your attitude around?”

“It did.  It always did,” you whispered.

Steve jumped out of bed and marched to your door.  He wanted nothing more than to talk to you about all of this.  Right now.  

“Open Y/N’s door F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded as he waited in the hallway.  

“I’m sorry Captain Rogers but I must say it is no use,” came the A.I’s voice.  

Steve put his hands on his hips, looking at your door.  He didn’t want to, but he would use force to open it.  He and Bucky agreed to give you all the privacy you needed, but he really needed to talk to you.  

“What do you mean F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Miss Y/N left her room and the building a half hour ago.”

Steve’s head snapped towards the elevator.  “With who?” he barked out as he rushed into his room and grabbed a black hoodie, pulling it over his head.  

“Nobody.  She left alone.”

Steve stilled his movements. Not only had you been acting out, like a brat, a damn child and throwing a glass object at his head.  Now you had left the tower, alone, in the middle of the night.  His hands were balled into fists, his jaw clenched tight like a clamp.  In this exact moment, Steve had enough.  He punched the door to his room.  The punch went clear through the door making a gaping hole.  Steve had snapped.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #dark! steve rogers #dark!steve rogers

[tomasorban]

Giants Build the Ancient Pyramids of Egypt

The world has always been asking, “who built the great pyramids of Egypt.” Most people believe it was the Egyptians, however, there is some debate on when the actual pyramids were built. Some archaeologists say after carbon dating it seems to be around 7,000-10,000 years ago. However, other debate this and say that they are only a few thousand years old and Egyptians only came around about 3,000 years ago, so it couldn’t be older then that.What if the Egyptians did build some of the smaller ones, but not the great pyramid. What if they found it and decided to use them and construct more. Which then confused scientists after so many years. This might be why we see three great large pyramids next to three small ones which don’t seem as magnificent next to the great ones.  So the question is… who built them first? Before the skeptics begin to roll their eyes, lets look into history. In Genesis it is said that the Giants (Nephilim) are ”sons of God” and the “daughters of men.” The most memorial story of course is the Giant Goliath who fights David.  Also found in Egypt are drawings of smaller humans fighting against larger humans. Almost every culture has names or drawings of Giants from different eras in history.

Here is a comment from user tollan23 who is an actual archaeologist:“I’m an archaeologist (who has worked at the pyramids) and I have to admit that we’re all admitted into a secret society where we’re told to hide the secrets of the giants from all, under threat of death. Now that I have let you all know the truth my life is in danger. At least the truth is out there now but I will live the rest of my life in hiding.”On his youtube account he has a number of archaeology videos at the site of Bu Maher Fort, Bahrain.Gery Nelson has a wonderful and great article on this subject with references and pictures. In his article Nelson says:“I have tried to keep this within the realm of my own experiences. 

There is so much more to this. Like the 64 pound sledge hammer found in a 3500 year old copper mine near the town of Llandudno in North Wales. Giant axes unearthed in Iran, Giant swords, etc.You could read for weeks on the subject of giants and if your mind is anything like mine enjoy every minute of it. I would suggest googeling Solomon Island giants, red haired giants, Arizona giants, California giants, Ohio giants, Peruvian giants.”A few years ago I would have never believed that Giant built the pyramids, thought it was absurd. However, in recent years I have found that the actual truth, maybe stranger then fiction.According to Author Brad Steiger, who has written over 168 books with over 17 million copies in print. He says in his book “World’s Before Our Own,”“There have been excavations in the United States that have produced the remains of primitive men and women over seven feet tall; hominids with horns; giants with double rows of teeth; prehistoric people with sharply slanting foreheads and fanged jaws…In July 1895, a party of miners working near Bridal Veil Falls, California, found the tomb of woman whose skeletal remains were six-feet-eight inches in length.”So what happen to these giants? Why don’t we see anymore today? One theory could be that they died during the great flood, caught diseases or even mated with normal humans, which could explain gigantism syndrome. 

The 15 in. long finger which would make the owner about 15 feet tall. Photo by Gregor Spörri from 1988.

 Also just recently published, but taken in 1988 on the German website BILD.De, are photos taken by Gregor Spörri. Translated from the article is reads:“In 1988, on the last day of his private investigation trip, he contacted an old man from a grave robber dynasty. The meeting was took place in a farm-house in Bir Hooker, 100 kilometers northeast of Cairo.After paying, $ 300 Spörri had a look at the grave robber unsold treasure. Wrapped in old rags was the bone and dermis.Spörri told BILD.de: “It was an oblong package, smelled musty. I was totally flabbergasted when I saw the dark brown giant finger.I was allowed to take it in hand and also to take pictures; a bill was put next to it to get a size comparison. “The bent finger was split open and covered with dried mold.”It was surprisingly easy, maybe a few hundred grams My heart was up to his neck. That was incredible. In size to a matching body should have been about 15 feet tall”The grave robber also showed the Swiss certificate of authenticity and an X-ray image. Both are from the 60s.”

The question is, why would Governments around the world hide this from the people? To answer this question I turn to Darwin, which takes you to a dead end if you follow this path. Right now scientists are trying to make the world believe we descended from apes, however, Giants were never part of that theory.  Add Giants to the mix and what is of Darwin?  If the world knew Giants existed and built the pyramids, (which would explain how huge heavy stones were transported 100′s of miles away. And would also display who actually built Stonehenge) then all kinds of questions would arise, like:  Where did they come from? Did we descend from Giants?  Does Darwin’s actually stand for anything? Have we been here for actually millions of years but not know? What else did they build? Stonehenge? Easter Island? Were they part of Atlantis?The human mind would become so curious that we would then be asking the Governments of the world: “What else are you hiding from us? 

#giants #nephilim #history #inspiration #science #biology #pyramids #consciousness #knowledge #archeology #Egypt #genetics #dna

[honey-dewey]

We all Cope Somehow

Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 2,017

Warnings: Javier gets sad, Steve gets drunk, Javier is creepy for all of two seconds, Javier has a breakdown, talking about scars and injuries. 

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

The fight is hard, and at the end of the day, everyone has their coping mechanism. Steve drinks until he can’t remember why he opened a bottle. Javier gets lost with some corner girl who won’t remember his name or face. You cook and nurture your boys because no one else will. That’s just how life is, until Javier comes home late, unable to find his forgetfulness.

“Javi?” 

“What?” 

You shuffled slightly, the ache in your back ever persistent. “I made dinner. Are you staying?” 

Javier nodded, putting out his cigarette and coming in from the balcony, seeing Steve with his third drink at the table already. “What’s for dinner?” 

“Figured we could use a taste of home,” you said, putting a plate with a steak on it in front of Javier. “Texas, right?” 

Another nod from Javier, who wordlessly began to eat. Steve gulped down his drink and shakily picked up his knife. You immediately stepped in, taking the steak knife and cutting Steve’s food for him. 

“Thank you,” he slurred, and you smiled.

“Any time.” 

After dinner, you cut Steve off, giving him some water and bread and sitting him down on your couch. Javier scooped his jacket up and made to leave, turning back to look at you one last time before silently slipping out. 

You noticed Javier leaving, not bothering to say anything. Turning to face him walking out your door would be painful, seeing him and knowing he was going to bury himself in some stranger on the street, not looking for comfort but escape. Knowing those kind eyes would go dark with a feral, primal lust that couldn’t be stopped. You tucked a blanket around Steve, left him two painkillers, and went to go sleep yourself. 

Harsh knocking at your door hours later woke you. Steve groaned, and you immediately tugged a robe around yourself and ran to the door. 

“Go back to sleep Stevie,” you said softly, peering through the door’s peephole and seeing the back of Javier’s head. “It’s just Javi.” 

Steve fell back into the couch, disappearing into sleep once more. You tugged the door open quietly, shushing Javier as he went to talk. “Shh. Steve’s asleep.” 

Javier nodded, gesturing to your bedroom. You silently agreed, bare feet making almost no noise as you two headed towards the room. 

“What are you doing back here?” You asked, shutting your bedroom door and turning to Javier. “You never come back after you leave for the night and, Javi!” 

You shouted his name, shoving his hands off your body. In the dim bedroom lights, you could see his pupils blown wide with that lust he reserved for women who could handle it. But now, with no outlet and no other options, Javier was turning to the next available thing.

“C’mon,” he crooned softly, reaching out for you again. “You know you want me.” 

“Not like this!” You shouted, jumping away from his wandering hands. “Javi! Christ, get away from me! Javier!” 

That seemed to break Javier, his body crumpling as you shied away. You knew that no matter what state he was in, he would never hurt you. But this still wasn’t comforting. 

“Javi?” You asked softly, seeing him still. “Javi, honey, you okay? Are you in there?” 

Javier shook his head. Tiny, minuscule movements that made you scared. 

“Hey,” you said, reaching out but not touching. “Let’s go for a drive.” 

He followed you out, numbly climbing into the car and waiting for you to start it. Taking a midnight drive probably wasn’t advised, but it calmed Javier down and to see him smile again, you’d personally fight Escobar, no matter the odds. 

Taking a turn out of the neighborhood and finding your favorite winding road, you drove in relative silence, Javier gazing out the window as the lights grew smaller and smaller until they looked like bright stars in the sky, making messy bunches of constellations. The hum of the car and the rock of the road beneath you calmed him, easing his troubled mind until he finally began to cry. 

“Oh Javi, honey, it’s okay,” you mumbled, stopping the car in an abandoned parking lot and leaning over the console to hug Javier. “Hey, it’s okay honey. You weren’t right, and that’s just fine. It’s okay to not be okay, you hear me?” 

Javier nodded, burying himself in your arms and mumbling out soft, broken, apologies. 

You hummed, smoothing a hand over his heaving back. “Javi, I forgive you. I will always forgive you.” 

Another agonizing ten minutes passed, during which you held Javier as he shook and cried and let everything out. You simply rubbed his back and held him close, promising you would always be there. 

Finally, finally, Javier pulled away, still trembling. You held his hands, smoothing your thumbs over the scarred skin on the backs of his hands. “You never told me about this,” you realized, peering deeper at the pebbled scar that spanned the entire back of Javier’s left hand. 

Javier pulled in a breath. You couldn’t tell if he knew you were trying to distract him, but you needed to get his mind off his current pain. “My brother,” he said slowly, a horrible rasp to his voice. “we had a treadmill, and my hand got caught in it. My brother was running on top of it. It wasn’t his fault.” 

You smiled, examining his face. Pushing sweaty hair off his forehead, you traced another scar, barely an inch long, in the dead center of Javier’s forehead. “This one?” 

“I was six,” Javier remembered. “My sister threw a ball under a table, and I ran too fast to duck in time. Hit the stupid thing head on. Thirteen stitches.” 

Another kind smile, and this time you moved forward to press a warm kiss to the scar. “And that one on your elbow you refuse to tell Steve about?” 

That was able to draw a laugh out of Javier, even if it was skittering and faint. “My other sister, the oldest, let me have her old roller skates when she outgrew them.” As he talked, Javier’s words got steadier and steadier, the shake to his hands slowly fading. “We lived on a street with a cul-de-sac at the end, and there was a hill leading up to the circle. My sister showed me how to turn at the cul-de-sac, in a big loop. I started at the top of the hill to gain speed. But I fucked it up. I was going too fast and couldn’t control myself, so I ended up tripping, and skidded three feet. It’s a miracle I didn’t break something. My elbow was somehow the only casualty.” 

You giggled, rolling his sleeves up and lifting his right arm so you could kiss the quarter sized scar. “A daring injury,” you promised. “That one on your ankle I teased you about?” 

Javier shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. “A glass cup my sisters used to shave shattered in the shower. Cut me in two places. Why are you asking about the boring ones?” 

Shrugging, you traced a longer, more wicked scar on Javier’s left arm. “Because they’re fun scars. War stories are interesting, but they’re not you.” As you explained, you felt a knot in your chest grow, drawing the breath from your lungs. “Those little scars, they tell me who you are. You’re a dork, a family man, a brother, a lover, a truster. When I ask about the bad scars, all I see is a soldier.” 

Javier grabbed your arms, steadying you. “Tell me about this,” he said, poking a scar on your cheek that was often mistaken for a dimple. 

You nodded. “I was a toddler. Ran into a bannister in the hallway, and the sharp edge got my cheek. I needed two stitches.” 

Tracing down your arms, Javier turned your wrists over and thumbed over the identical lines that were burned into the crease of each wrist. “These?” 

“A common contact point for the blazingly hot pots and pans I cook with.” You shivered as Javier kissed each one. “I dunno if there’s much feeling in that bit of my skin.” 

Javier’s eyebrows knit, the worry plain in his face. “And you cook anyway?” 

“It’s my escape,” you said softly. “When I cook, I can imagine we’re not getting death threats, that we’re just a few close friends on a trip together and we didn’t want to go out for dinner. I can imagine I’m back home, cooking for my family or that we’re celebrating your birthday when I make a cake instead of us getting a huge lead. You find women who help you forget, I cook and bake to escape.” 

“Oh.” Javier smoothed a thumb over another small scar, half an inch long, on the delicate flesh between your finger and thumb. “Knife?” 

You nodded. “I got myself pretty good there when I was cutting veggies a few years back. No stitches, but I bled like crazy. My roommate thought I was super hurt.” 

Gently resting your captive hands on the wheel of the car, Javier ticked the radio up, letting soft music fill the space. “Thank you,” he said. “For driving me out here. For not hating me.” 

You shook your head. “I could never hate you Javi. You were just lost. I helped find you again.” 

That grin you’d worked so hard for finally returned, the one that he’d give you over dinner when you made something impressive and when he had to help you with your bulletproof vest. “Should we go home? Steve’s gonna wake up soon.” 

You nodded. “Sure. Poor thing’s gonna be so hungover today.” 

Sure enough, when you two got home, Steve was sitting up on the couch. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but you were DEA agents. You woke up before the day even started. 

“Where were you?” Steve said, standing and stumbling to the door. “I was so worried!” 

“We went for a drive,” you reassured, grabbing Steve’s arms to steady him. “Javi, darling, will you grab a pack of bacon from the fridge? I’m gonna make breakfast.” 

Javier grabbed the bacon while you steered Steve back to the couch. 

“You called me darling,” Javier noticed once you’d entered the kitchen, tossing on an apron and turning a small portable radio on. “Intentional?” 

You grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him. “Yeah. Intentional,” you said as you broke away, opening the bacon. “Start the coffee?” 

Javier swore softly, grabbing the coffee and three mugs. “I guess I should stop finding those corner girls to help me forget, huh?”

Taking out a pan, you shrugged. “I could always teach you to cook,” you said. “Or you could take up photography like Steve. Or, better yet, sewing. I know you can already do it.” 

“I cannot sew.” 

“Yes you can,” you countered, reaching around Javier to grab the eggs. “I watched you fix a shirt once.” 

Javier swore again. “I think I’ll try cooking,” he decided, standing behind you and loosely wrapping his arms around your middle. “Scrambled?” 

Nodding, you cracked six eggs into the pan. “Start making the toast please,” you said, and Javier did so, touching you every time he passed. Just soft touches, a comforting hand brushing your back or shoulder when he walked behind you. 

Over breakfast, you read the paper as best you could, occasionally asking Javier to translate. Steve had his head in his hand, the other hand holding his coffee cup. He listened halfheartedly, not making a sound as he took in the information. 

“Alright,” you said, folding the paper and standing, taking everyone’s empty plate. “Get ready for work. Today’s gonna be busy.” 

Steve left, heading upstairs to grab clothes. Javier went across the hall, finishing first and coming back, finding you already ready, adjusting your lipstick in the mirror. “Waiting on Steve?” 

“Waiting on Steve,” you confirmed, turning to Javier. “Well don’t you look good.” 

Javier smiled. He was wearing the red shirt you openly adored, the top few buttons popped open. 

“Lovebirds,” Steve said from your doorway, adjusting his own shirt. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” 

You laughed. “We could never. Not with how you drive.” 

Javier nodded his agreement and followed you out to the car. Steve looked back at the two of you, arm in arm. “So, what’s this?” 

“This, Steve,” you said, turning a finger and gesturing for him to look where he was going. “Is love.”

#narcos #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

[squidlyskeet]

Joy Ride -.002

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: violence, blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity.

Summary:

It started with a simple question, “what do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt halfway across the world in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might hold for her, she decides to let loose the first night she was there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car?

A/n: yall im still so frickin bad at summaries😭😭😭 word. ✌🏻-squidlyskeet.

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   I have no idea what I was expecting when we finally made it to where we were headed for the ‘meet’. Whatever it was though, It absolutely was not this. When we finally made it to the huge parking garage about an hour out of Tokyo it was difficult for Mirio to move his whole squad through the crowd. He pointed out that every side of the huge square space was where the designated side riders were parked. Naturally we pulled up and backed into the space next to the east wall. Mirio’s car parked in the middle and the rest of the squad parked on either side of him.

Right now I was standing next to Noel, while she patiently waited for Mirio’s attention. He was greeting his friends, or squad, as he called them while we were pulling in. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

    There were so many people of every kind, predominantly Japanese but others as well. Men and women parked in the middle of the garage lined up with their hoods open and showing off their engines. Young girls maybe even the same age as me, wearing tiny little outfits and throwing themselves on drivers. Music low and thumping pumped into the open night air. 

  I did notice that not all sides were here yet, but the ones that were were just as impressive as Mirio’s squad. In fact the only squad that hasn’t shown yet was the west side, as no cars lined the walls on the other side of the building. 

  My mood was tense, the light atmosphere of having fun leaving me almost instantly when I got out of the car. I could Noel was picking up on it too.

  “Come on, lemme introduce you to the squad.” She grabbed my arm again, dragging a circle of people standing in front of their cars.

“Hey guys! This is Y/n, she’s my niece and she just moved here from the US. She doesn’t know Japanese, so try to be easy on her okay?” Her mischievous smile playing at a self introduction as she turned to me.

 “Uh- Hi,” I waved awkwardly, “I’m Y/n.” 

 I didn’t know what to say, and I was mentally beating myself up for being so weird. Especially now that I was getting a good look at everyone and realized that Mirio wasn’t the only walking god.

 These people were obnoxiously gorgeous.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here, Hmm?” A deep raspy voice cut my focus to a tall lanky man with bright red hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. “You seem to be a little lost princess, I could show you around if you’d like.” 

  I instantly recoiled at the blatant insinuation, heat spreading across my neck. Another voice interjected before I had a chance to reply.

  “Dabi for fucks sake, leave the kid alone. Hi Y/n,” This man was short, comically short compared to the six something beanpole standing next to him. “I’m Keigo Takami, and this asshat is Touya Todoroki, Dabi for short.” He ran his hands through his wavy blonde hair, before bowing low and rising with a wink in my direction.

  The heat in my neck spread to my face, and I avoided eye contact. The wall seemed extremely interesting.

  “Don’t listen to either of them Y/n, this is a tactic they use to pick up women.” A woman with powder blue hair stood off the side checking her nails with a fist on her hip. “Nejire.” Was all she said in any way of introduction. 

  Her nonchalant attitude put me off even further, but I was quickly distracted when I felt another presence slink up beside me.

  “They don’t know how to interact correctly. Sorry about that. Amajiki. It’s nice to meet you.” He pushed his hand forward in a jerky movement, offering a handshake, eyes directed at the wall.

   I placed his face as the man who was riding most of the way with us and I could feel the excitement bubble back up when I remembered how skilled he was at driving. I felt my anxious shell break before I could get it under wraps. 

  “Oh my god, Amajiki, you were so cool out there. I couldn’t believe how well you handled your car. When we were drifting onto the highway you were so close. I’ve never done anything like that before, and you just made it look so easy-” I didn’t notice until then how red his face was getting, and instantly felt bad. He dropped his unshook hand and backed up a few paces before turning to face the wall.

What..?

“T-t-thanks Y-y/n,” He said.

  “Hey now, don’t get worked up over something like that Jiki, she thinks you're good!” Mirio yelled over to the nervous boy facing the wall. He walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, Noel’s hand latched in his other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous Amaj-”

“Please, I j-just need a m-m-minute.” He stuttered before I could finish my apology.

    Mirio giggled, and the sound shocked me, to watch a full grown titan giggle was wild. At least he wasn’t in a bad mood anymore.

  “Anyways, Y/n we’ll make this quick cause I want a drink. That crusty weirdo over there is Tenko Shimura, Shiggy for short, and his little sister Toga. Over there is Kamui, he’s a good friend even if he has the emotional maturity of a wet sock. Over there,” Mirio pointed toward the north wall, “Is the North Side Riders. A guy named Monoma leads them and honestly, they really aren’t much of a threat. On and off the pavement.

      Down there, is the South Side Riders. Ten out of ten do not recommend. Just like avoid the south wall at all costs please. In case we lose you. And oh yeah, over ther- Hmm? Where are those westies? I think out of all them you’d get along with them the best. Bakug-” He started saying a name but stopped when he leaned backwards to look at the entrance of the parking deck.

    The noise in the giant concrete balcony quieted to a low murmur. Music was shut off, and surprisingly people were getting out of the way. Trying to squeeze next to the walls as far as they could get. Well every wall with the exception of the west wall. 

    Mirios squad all migrated to the spaces in between their cars, but Mirio looked as if he refused to budge from the spot leaning against his front bumper with Noel still tucked into his side. 

   I looked back at his squad and then back to where my aunt stood with her boyfriend. I wanted a front row seat to whatever was about to happen too and, with as much confidence as I could muster, I walked up and stood next to Noel. I looked around nervously, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Tch. Westies. Always on some dramatic entrance bullshit.” The beanpole muttered from beside what I presumed was his car. A black hatchback, with blue flame decals.

   The silence on the roof of the parking garage was deafening now, and a ripple of anticipation rolled through the crowd.

   Just when I thought I couldn’t wait any longer, sounds I was quickly becoming familiar with sounded off in the distance. Motors, wide open and bouncing of rev limiters causing a chatter of turbo whistles. Screeching tires, and the low thump of a deep bass blaring out of a subwoofer system. 

      I could make out that they’ve made it to the garage and started their accent up the spiral entrance, the sounds mixing together and sending a thrill through my body as the anticipation of seeing the display. 

     The sound of the music was becoming more clear and as it got closer, I was shocked to find out that again it was english, and that I knew it. Was that..?

  Here comes the Boom? By Nelly?

   Whatever system they were using was loud enough to compete with a concert, cause it drowned out the sounds of the cars drifting to the top of the building. I tried to guess when one of the cars would pop up over the small bump at the top but I was wrong with every timing. 

  I looked at Noel in confusion, but she was paying attention to the entrance intently too. 

 The music cut off, until-

BOOM.

   The first car practically launched itself over the bump. It hit the ground front bumper first, creating a light show of sparks. When the tail end hit the ground, the driver didn’t waste any time, they hit the Ebrake and swung the rear bumper sideways before stomping on it and accelerating again. I noticed the cars color, a deep burnt orange. It was sleek, made for speed and the driver -as far as I could tell- knew exactly how to handle it. The windows in the car were down but I couldn’t get a good look at the driver while they were gliding their car through the makeshift aisles of cars.

BOOM.

   The second car launched itself over the bump, this car smaller and red but just as nice. They took the first cars movements, synchronizing perfectly, and mimicking the maneuvers with accuracy. More cars came out of the bump and played follow the leader but my eyes were glued to the orange car in the front. 

          When the car finally rounded the corner Closest to our designated wall, they revved the engine and shot forward, gaining speed and everyone’s attention. Somehow, I feel like they did that on purpose.

        Halfway through they changed tactics again, stomping on the brakes and threw the car into a full one eighty, never stopping. They accelerated backwards with their driver side window facing us speakers blaring.

   For me, it was like time stopped all together as the driver finally came into view. 

     A spiked mess of pale blonde hair came into focus first, and broad shoulders holding up a thick muscled neck. The next glimpse I got was of his face. A chill shot through me, when I made eye contact and noticed he was staring directly back at me. 

    Ruby red eyes narrowed in obvious disdain, and a sneer twisting his face, he never broke the hold. It felt like he was burning holes into my head with his clearly disapproving expression. And while it was only a few seconds, it felt like I was standing there, under the scrutiny of his glare for a lifetime. 

    When he was finally too far away to keep the eye contact, I dropped my line of vision to the concrete under my feet. How could someone just outright glare at another person they didn’t even know? Did he hate me? No that’s probably not right. He doesn’t even know me, for all he knows I’m just another inconsequential girl here. 

   I argued with myself in my head, debating on whether I should just give up on this night entirely and call a taxi or wait and see if tonight gets any better. It was so fun on the way here, the laughing and the drifting lifting my mood to a height it hadn’t been at for months. I was peeved to find out that all it took to deflate my mood was one insignificant glare from a boy I didn’t know. All I wanted to do was retreat back to the safety of Mirios car, where I had fun and could breathe easily. 

  “Y/n you okay?” Noel broke me from the spell I was under, and placed a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t let Bakugou bother you. He is like that with everyone.” She said as she smiled at me. 

  “Bakugou?” Finally lifting my gaze from the ground to let her know I appreciated her attempt at comfort.

  “That’s his name, the guy in the orange car. He’s the squad leader of the Westies and he by far is the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” She answered, gently rubbing circles on my arm. 

  “Did something happen Y/n? I swear I’ll go drag his bulky ass out of that car right now.” Mirio popped his head into our comfort bubble and smiled. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so I just shook my head and kept my answer vague.

  “Nothing that constitutes a fight, hah thanks though Mirio.” I replied, hoping to evade him getting into ‘one of his moods’ as Noel described it.

  “Good good. Well if we are done standing around, I’m gonna go get a drink before the races start,” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, and turned his attention to Noel. “Ten minutes to go baby, make sure you’re strapped in and ready to beat these amateurs, we’re in the first round.”  He leaned down to give her a kiss, and turned to go find something to drink, looking at the cars on display on the way.

  I turned to look back at Noel, that soft look on her face again as her eyes followed his retreating figure.

   “You really love him don’t you?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I felt my cheeks flush at my directness.

 “I do, I want to spend the rest of my life with him,” She sighed happily before shaking her head and clearing her throat. “Anyways though, not all of the East boys are going to be racing the first round, so try to stay with them, okay? I think only Keigo and Dabi will be sitting it out. Make sure you tell me if they give you any trouble.”

  “Wait, you're going to race with Mirio?” I asked, shocked.

  Isn’t that dangerous?

 “Well of course honey, I’m his navigator duh? Look,” She turned around to point at the passenger seat inside his car. 

    My eyebrows lifted in surprise to see that there on the bucket seat headrest, in fancy swirled English letters, was Noel’s name.

   “What’s a navigator?” I was curious now, and I wanted to get the question out before my brain told me to shut up and that nobody cared.

  Her eyes lit up when she heard my question, her hands clapped together and she grabbed me by the arm once again dragging me further into the mess of cars and people. I tried to relax my limbs, but I could only feel them tense. She was pulling me further away from our wall and further away from the comfort of Mirios car. I knew that, rationally, I had no right to feel like Mirio’s car was a comfort. I couldn’t help myself from latching onto things that brought me out of my anxious shell. It was a habit I knew was bad for me, because everything leaves eventually, but I’d still like to squeeze as much of the feeling out of anything I could. 

   It made me wonder if it was Mirios car specifically or if it was any car that could be handled like his. The last thing I needed was for Noel to get mad at me, thinking I was trying to make a move on her man, when in reality it was just his car. Or more accurately, the escape it could provide me.

    Noel stopped me in front of a car that looked a little out of place around all these over the top machines surrounding it. I actually recognized this make and model as it was from the US. A Ford Taurus. A two thousand and one if I’m right. It was tan and had a few dents, but still looked drivable. 

    The trunk was open and inside it lay a few piles of different things. One pile were maps, all folded the same way with handwriting on them. The next item was a scanner of some sort, I put two and two together to realize this probably wasn’t the most legal of events, and if Japan was anything like the US then those were most likely police scanners. The third item, were stacks of boxes, all of them had an image of a plastic gun on them.

  I watched as Noel took one of each. 

  “What the hell? A gun?” It seemed the shock value was a never ending escalation for me tonight.

  “Let me start by explaining that a Navigator is exactly what it sounds like. I ride shotgun for Mirio while he races. I have the map to tell him where to go, and potentially make last second changes to our route. The police scanner is for knowing where they are before we are on top of them, and the gun. Well the gun for when you cross the finish line,” She held up the box, as if that would make it clearer as to why she needed it. “You put your driver's color in it, and the Navigator shoots it off when they cross the finish line. We won’t be able to see anything, but the spectators will be keeping track from on top of the parking deck. That’s how they tell who won.” 

 “That sounds like a really important job. Do you do it often?” I felt like I was finally starting to get a read on this. This was street racing.

  We lingered around the Navigator car, talking quietly. I occasionally glanced at the people coming and going from the trunk, noticing mostly women but some men.

  “Normally a Navigators job is really important. When they actually do their job. A lot of these girls have romanticized it to the point of competing to see who gets the coveted passenger seat of one of the better drivers. Most don’t even grab the stuff they need. They just flail around, and take credit.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “I don’t think some of these brats realize, the reason some of the drivers win as much as they do is because they have good Navigators.” 

  “I’m sure you’re great at it, I’ll be watching for you guys when it’s time to-“ My voice cut off and I jumped when I heard a loud gong. 

 “Ladies and scumbags, five minutes to first line up!” A voice blasted through a set of speakers, and the crowd began dispersing.

 “Oh shit, that’s my cue. Gotta go get strapped in. Don’t take drinks from anyone, and don’t wander too close to the south wall. Be safe, and cheer for us!” Her voice drifted as she ran back to Mirios bright yellow car. 

   I felt my body tense again at being by myself, I tried to make my body move but working up the courage to walk anywhere and have people notice me kept my feet planted in place. I knew that the thought was stupid and redundant because standing here by myself while the cars needed to get out down the ramp would bring way more attention to me than anything else.

  Alright deep breaths, one, two, thre-

  “Hey, are you okay?” A sweet feminine voice said from behind me. 

 “U-uh sorry, I don’t understand Japanese.” I shot back without turning around. 

 A genuine laugh sounded off from behind me, and without forcing myself I felt my muscles relax at the gesture. 

 Before I could think too much about it, I held my breath and turned around. 

 “Hello, I’m Ochako Uraraka. And you look like maybe you need a bottle of water.” The tiny girl waved at me with a friendly smile. 

 Oh my god she’s adorable. 

   She couldn’t be any more than five feet tall and her angular brunette bob complimented her round baby face. Her outfit is similar to mine, with a cropped t-shirt and high rise shorts. 

  “Sorry, about just standing here like an idiot. I’m a little l-lost.” I decided feigning like I didn’t know where to go was better than admitting I was frozen in anxiety. 

 “That’s okay, who are you here with? I can help you try to find them. I know almost everyone here, and I’m sure my boyfriend wouldn’t mind me helping, we don’t race until the second round anyways.” 

  I debated on telling her. What if she was like some kind of bait to be kidnapped. I quickly decided against it, she seemed too sweet. Besides, she's already offered me a bottle of water, and to help me look for Mirios' squad. I knew in which general direction they were and could probably find them myself but I didn’t want to be alone. 

  “I’m with the East boys.” I said, hoping she’d keep the conversation going.

  “Oh Mirios squad?” Her voice rose an octave with her revelation. “Oh my gosh, I’ve never seen you with them before. Are you new? Who did you come with? Please don’t tell me it was that toaster oven Touya…”

  She rambled on while I tried to hold in a laugh at her quip. Toaster oven Touya? Looks like beanpole has a new name. 

 “No I’m with Noel and Mirio, I’m her niece.Y/n L/n. I just moved to Japan.” I replied, hoping that would cover her rapid fire questions about where I’m from.

 “You’re a part of the squad? Do you want to meet mine? Sometimes we team up on jobs from the south side and it might be helpful to know we finally have another girl,” She leaned into me and whispered like someone would overhear us. “We are outnumbered by like, a lot.” She was laughing as she leaned back and  turned to grab things out of the Navigator car. 

    I noted her comment about jobs from the south side, and filed that away too. Man, Noel list of questions is adding up quickly. 

   So she’s a navigator too, probably a half decent one since she was actually using the equipment provided. 

   When she finished she motioned for me to follow her, and like the lost puppy I was, I did exactly that. I realized we were headed in the opposite direction of my designated wall, and felt my stomach clench. Isn’t this the way that angry guy parked? I really hope she’s just making a detour and she isn’t a part of the west side. 

    When she didn’t stop walking though, that fantasy went directly out the window. My last option was to hope he wasn’t here or was distracted by something. 

 “Hey guys! This is y/n, I found her over by the Nav beater. The East side Riders have a new member, can you believe that?” She jumped into her explanation, catching the attention of a group of people leaning against their cars. 

   “A new member?” Said a red head with hair spiked to the gods looking up from his phone. They looked sharp, but upon further inspection not nearly as sharp as the man's teeth. He was leaning on the hood of a red and black car, and his non threatening position put me at ease a little. 

   He was built like a brick shithouse. Towering over everyone else in the group, and If it weren’t for his gentle voice, I’d probably be running for the hills. 

  “That’s Ejiirou Kirishima. Complete himbo and about as smart as a bag of hammers, but he has a heart of gold.” The man waved from his place, perched atop his car, and a heartwarming smile on his face. 

 “Call me Kiri.” Was all he said before he returned to his screen. 

  “Sweetheart why are you speaking English, you know I don’t catch on to it that easy.” A deep Japanese voice called out from under a green hatchback. 

  “Because Deku, y/n doesn’t speak Japanese.” Ochako said from beside me. 

 “What?” A tuft of fluffy green hair popped up from behind the car, standing probably a foot and a half taller than it. I jumped backwards at the height even though he was on the other side of the car.

  “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Izuku Midoryia, but you can just call me Deku.” He said before looking at Ochako, his face squished up, and looking for approval.

   She nodded at him with a sweet smile on her face.

  “That’s my boyfriend, don’t take him too seriously. He just doesn’t know what’s going on most of the time.” She leaned over to tell me the second part, and then pointed behind two cars parked obnoxiously close to one another. 

   A laugh burst out of my mouth as my eyes followed what she was pointing at. Behind the cars, laid two lawn chairs. One huge umbrella hanging over top of them and two men sitting in each one. Both looked like they were sucking down a yellow slushie. 

  “That’s Denki and Shinsou. They are best friends and are doing their pre race routine of getting mildly shitfaced. Denki is a Shinsous Navigator and they claim it helps them get in the game. Uhg. You’d think they’d learn but they never do.” She paused to go to the passenger door of Deku’s hunter green hatchback and pull something out from the dash. 

   As she leaned down, through the windshield, I could see another example of a stitching in the headrest. But this one was in Japanese. I assumed it had something to do with Ochako but didn’t want to press and look stupid for asking questions. 

    When she walked to stand back next to me she handed me a water bottle and I thanked her with a small voice.

  “Shoto, Jirou, and Sero are getting ready to race the first round,and they have Mina with them so they aren’t here right now or else I’d introduce them as well, and I’m not really sure where Bakug-.”

  “Oi. What the hell is this.” A deep gravelly voice gritted out from behind us.

   For some reason I felt like-

   Oh shit.

___________________________________________________

-.002 💥MASTERLIST💥 -.003

A/n: Keep in minds, this is U N E D I T E D. Word✌🏻 -squidlyskeet

#my hero academia #mha #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #uhgggg #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #someone love me #i love him #bnha fluff #bnha au #tokyo drift #bnha angst #mha smut

[spell-cleaver]

Flash Fiction: Star Wars

Spoilers for the Mandalorian S2 finale but I had TOO MANY FEELINGS.

He’s in the middle of a call to Leia when he senses it. The Force chimes—like a commlink, he thinks, amused at how scandalised Yoda would be by that comparison—and he frowns, turning away from his sister to reach out.

“Luke, you need to focus, this is—” Leia cuts herself off. She senses it too. Even young Ben, babbling about something just beyond the holotransmitter, is silenced for a moment by the Force.

“What is that…?”

Luke reaches out.

An old presence. A… young, presence. Bright, powerful, and full of potential, made brighter and shimmering in its location—wherever it is, it’s a powerful place, and this powerful child is using it.

Where are the Jedi?

Are there others like me?

I was alone for so long, and he promised I would no longer be alone…

Then it’s cut off—naturally, but abruptly—and foreboding sweeps in.

“Sorry, Leia,” Luke says. “I’ll come visit you all on Coruscant some other time. For now there’s a youngling who needs help.”

*

“Incoming craft, identify yourself.”

He can sense the youngling on the cruiser, he’s reaching out to them—and they, he, is reaching back. Fear clouds him, the protectors and presences around him stark in the Force with it; whatever is happening, the child is in danger.

Luke doesn’t bother answering the hail; just switches the comms off, and lands. Artoo whistles from the back seat.

Luke laughs. “Yeah, me too, buddy. Let’s see what trouble we can get into today.”

He hops out of his X-wing and climbs down. Things are moving outside; it… leaves prickles up the backs of his arms and his spine, a fear too visceral to be the Force, born of human instinct instead. Thud, thud, thud echoes through the corridors.

He steps outside, Artoo close on his heels.

When his father died, he left him everything. Luke has visited Mustafar, Vjun, a thousand planets and bases with the codes and intel to access them all. It doesn’t take a moment to summon them to memory and hack into one of the consoles in the corridor, viewing—

Oh.

What are those?

Dark troopers, the monitor says, but they don’t seem to be troopers at all. They’re droids.

Droids with armour tougher than a blaster shot, enough force in their limbs to shatter transparisteel, enough strength to fight a gundark—

But not, he thinks grimly, enough to tackle a lightsaber.

Not enough to tackle a Jedi.

“Shut them down,” he says, hands flying over the console, “shut—”

ACCESS DENIED.

He lets out a breath. “Artoo, can you—”

Artoo plugs in, and a frustrated squeal sees the end of that.

He tries again.

REQUEST CLEARANCE FROM MOFF GIDEON.

“Father has clearance to control them but not shut them down entirely?” Luke snorts. “I suppose it makes sense Gideon would want to lock out as much as he could.” Artoo beeps. “You’re right.”

His fingers type out one last command—the foreboding and the threat is mounting in the Force, choking him.

“Come to me, not the youngling.”

And he almost senses the moment all the dark troopers turn away from their task… to face his direction.

Luke unhooks his lightsaber from his belt and smiles to Artoo. “See if you can keep up.” Artoo’s indignance makes him laugh.

He brings up his hood and strides forwards, his cape flaring behind him.

*

They come at him quickly: two corridors, one turn, and then one’s on his right, shooting—he raises the saber and bats it away with ease. The Force pings and he lets that movement glide into the next, carving up the one coming from the left.

He’s familiar with the layout of a Star Destroyer by now but a cruiser’s slightly different; he hesitates for half a moment before striding out onto a walkway over a docking bay. Troopers swarm from straight ahead but he deflects with ease, slashing through them. One grabs his shoulder; he swings; it lets go.

He keeps moving.

Into another room, full of crates stacked high and wide and shelves. Full of dark troopers; he shoves one against the wall, slashes through another, and it’s almost rote before he gets through.

They’re dangerous. But so, he supposes wryly, spinning his lightsaber to get a better grip—though Leia would accuse him of flair—is he.

Through the corridors—four more. He can feel the youngling’s presence reaching for him, watching him; he smiles under his hood and reaches back, like the first time he met Ben and he took his nephew’s proffered hand. I am coming. You are safe. Something coos.

Into the turbolift and up. Artoo has fallen behind—he’ll get an earful about that later—but Luke can’t let himself get distracted. There are still troopers…

The doors open on them: two rows, several deep. They’re facing him, away from the youngling—heh. Good.

He swings his saber before they can even fire, the Force bunching around him. One droid flies forwards into his slash, the other flies back before it can hit him; he spins and dodges, the cape swirling around him, barely blinking, drives his blade down through the head into the chest, beheading another—

If the Imperial Remnant designed their dark troopers so the main control was in the head, where any humanoid would think to strike, they were asking for this.

One left. He extends his hand and watches it crumple and spark. For a moment, staring at the chest controls head on, he’s reminded of a cyborg, not a droid, and the shape of the head morphs in his gaze into a mask more familiar—

Then he clenches his fist. It drops, destroyed.

And now the corridor is empty, and only the dented blast doors remain.

He takes a deep breath, lowering his saber at his side and stepping forwards. He closes his eyes. He can sense the youngling—Grogu, he hears—beyond, as well as tense, wary, afraid adults.

They have done so much to protect this child from the Empire.

He can only respect that immensely.

There’s shouting, arguing—and then one of the adults opens the blast door and lets him in.

He doesn’t realise how smoky it’s become until he can breathe more easily, stepping onto the bridge. Glancing up from under the rim of his hood, he clocks six presences. Four women, on the other side of the command table from him, all with blasters pointed his way: two Mandalorians, one hired mercenary and a stocky soldier with a Rebel starbird tattooed on her cheekbone. He turns his gaze to the left, where Grogu and his… protector… stand; also a Mandalorian, he’s looking at him with a complex mix of emotions Luke is too distracted and polite to unpick.

He deactivates his lightsaber and lowers his hood.

It doesn’t seem like any of them recognise him—which is not a novelty, considering how much time he’s spent travelling in the far Outer Rim recently, but it remains welcome even if he’s not sure how it’ll help the situation. He’s here for Grogu; will they give him up to a strange Jedi? Mandalorians have always hated Jedi.

He doesn’t know.

He’ll find out.

Grogu is sitting in a chair at one of the consoles—he leans out to peek a look, and Luke gives him a faint smile. He’s… not what he expected.

He looks like Yoda.

Luke really hadn’t been expecting that.

He can’t help but smile.

The protector draws his attention back with— “Are you a Jedi?”

He’s heard a lot of iterations of that question. This man’s wariness is not the first he’s encountered.

He tries to quash his smile back into something approaching stoicism when he answers, “I am.”

Grogu looks nervous. Luke can’t blame him.

Still, he reaches out a hand. “Come, little one.”

The term of affection sneaks out before he can stop it—Ben called him that, his father called him an iteration of that… Grogu seems to respond to it, though, and Luke senses it sounds familiar. It reminds him of a temple once destroyed, a home he lost, and masters who trained him.

Luke decides that Grogu’s age and backstory can wait for another time to unpick. He’s not sure how old he is—Yoda lived to nine hundred—but it looks like he’s younger than Ben.

But Grogu doesn’t respond to his hand. He looks to his protector.

His father figure, Luke realises, and tries not to feel emotional at that.

The man says, slightly defensively and slightly awkwardly, “He doesn’t wanna go with you.”

No. That isn’t it. “He wants your permission.”

He remembers a boy who didn’t want to follow a Jedi Knight to Alderaan because he couldn’t leave his uncle.

He remembers a boy who desperately wanted his father’s approval, even when he learnt his father was everything he wanted to destroy.

Grogu’s protector looks hesitant, and though Luke sympathises…

It is dangerous to let such a powerful Force-sensitive go untrained. Especially with the Empire after him.

He needs him to understand that.

“He is strong in the Force,” he says, almost apologetically. “But talent without training is nothing.”

Even if that training involved Grogu’s elder whacking Luke on the shins repeatedly. Again, he suppresses a smile.

“I will give my life to protect the child,” he promises, “but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

That convinces him.

He lifts Grogu up, so gently it’s painful, and stares at him as he carries him over.

“Hey, go on,” he murmurs. “That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.”

Grogu reaches up as if to touch his cheek—or rather, the helmet.

“I’ll see you again. I promise.”

Grogu’s hand drops from the helmet.

And after a moment’s hesitation, his protector reaches up to remove it.

Luke blinks fiercely, overcome by a fiercely familiar emotion—he looks away, not looking at his face or his tears, the way men on the second Death Star did for him and his father.

“Alright, pal,” he hears. “It’s time to go.”

Luke swallows.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Then he leans down to put Grogu on the ground and Luke looks back, meeting his gaze firmly and kindly. He’s tearing up, but Luke doesn’t acknowledge it.

It’s almost a surprise when Artoo rolls up behind him and beeps.

Grogu waddles towards him, cooing. Artoo whistles back. Luke lets himself smile, this time.

At Grogu’s lifted arms, he picks him up, as gentle as he was with Ben. He can feel his protector’s eyes on them.

After a moment of… connection, Luke looks up.

“May the Force be with you,” he says, and inclines his head.

Grogu’s protector just looks devastated.

Luke wants to say something to comfort him—wants to say that he knows how this feels. But he knows it wouldn’t help.

So he just cradles Grogu in his arms, as gently as he can, and walks away.

*

“Come on, little one,” he coos as they strap themselves into his X-wing. Grogu is perched on his lap, and it’s a struggle keeping his hands away from the controls. “You seem to have had a lot of adventures.

“Are you ready for one more?”

Artoo whistles something, Grogu coos, and hyperspace blurs the stars around them.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #my writing #random words on a page #luke skywalker #din djarin #grogu #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars

[majormaxam]

won’t you bring me an angel? part II

Part I

Pairing: Jasper Whitlock (Hale)  x Reader

Summary: You find yourself to be a victim of Maria’s growing newborn army in Southern Texas. Maria finds your ability more than special, but a weapon. What she doesn’t expect is for you to be as defiant as others and to Maria’s dismay, you just happen to grow close with Major Jasper Whitlock.

Warnings: Mentions of death

Word Count: 5K

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next update.

Tags: @okbillyhargrove @whitlockswhore @savingprivatecass @trashysara @actuallyedythecullen @xplrreylo @liviasaugusta @basically-hayley @woodhousesemma @missmaskedwriter @nekee-lilac02 @carmalcandylover @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @mental-breaker-74 @vviptop @sfs143 @themihala@bsnsasusval @thecaptainsgingersnap 

The first week of being a newborn was spent in silence as (Y/N) refused to say a word to another newborn, while refraining to share a glance at the Major. He tried everyday to work his emotions over her in hopes of easing her into this lifestyle, but she fought him. Every time. It didn’t seem to bother Maria, she fed off gaining attention from the newborns and Jasper. She didn’t take issue with it… until (Y/N)’s third week. She was not only refusing to join the combat teachings of Jasper’s, but she also began to starve herself for three weeks without a drop of blood. 

It was difficult to withstand that pain withering inside her body, especially when the other newborn arrived back with blood stained garments. Fresh blood causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up as the raging burn in her throat heightened. She would clench the sides of her hips as the pain was difficult to withstand… and it was clear by the way she carried herself. 

Jasper took note of her starvation on the third night of arriving to her new home, but he believed she would eventually give in. He could hardly believe three weeks of starvation lasted further, her black eyes were burning a hole into Maria with one swift glance. He could feel Maria’s temper being tested as (Y/N) refused to feed and fight… she would’ve killed her off by now, but her power was valuable. However, he had a strong connection with the newborn, even if it was through silent stares and forced smiles. 

He liked her. 

Maria was beginning to lose her patience with her and Jasper felt it intensifying. The third week began to test the extent of Maria’s patience, which was slim to none. 

(Y/N) stood in the empty field behind the barn with your eyes focusing on the sky as the moon began to rise above. It delivered a message to the newborns cravings blood and the excitement of the darkened sky only festered their hunger. It was difficult to ignore the feverish craving as well, but she restrained herself by biting down on her lip and counting the stars. 

“She needs to feed.” Maria spat as she looked on at the challenging newborn, who stood yards away with a defiant chin holding her up. “She can’t fight at her finest if she’s starving herself.” She was speaking to Jasper as he followed her gaze across the land. “… what has she told you about herself?” 

Jasper raised an eyebrow at hearing Maria begging for questions regarding the new-born and he immediately answered. “She’s quiet… hardly speaks to anyone and if she does, it’s to the youngest here.” He could feel Maria yearning for more by the emotions racing through her body and he longed to deliver. “If you wish for me to grow closer-“

“Please do…” Maria eased into Jasper’s side with her hand placed on his waist drawing him in. “make her trust you before we are forced to deal with it.” She then rested a gentle kiss on his lips before making her way towards Lottie to discuss a matter at hand. Her whispers were faint as she demanded the blonde vampire to head into town, but if successful, she would have the newborn melting in the palm of her hand. 

She eventually found herself plucking the spring wildflowers growing underneath the sweet grass, slowly creating a bouquet. It seemed Indian paintbrushes were even prettier under the silver moon as babies breath scattered into the orange. She hated nights like these most as they reminded her of what she used to have… a family. 

“Will you be joining them for a feeding?” His question was answered by her silence and she didn’t bother to even steal a glance, but his presence followed her as the bouquet of flowers grew in her hands. “I don’t want you to get hurt (Y/N)… which is where it’s leading to.” 

“Is that from Maria’s mouth or yours?” She felt his eyes shifting from her to the newborns gathering to leave. “Will she be the one hurting me… because if so, I will feed to gain strength.” She seemed to draw out a small laughter, but also witnessed the protective streak as his eyes turned cold. “She certainly has charmed you, hasn’t she?” 

Jasper was taken aback by the comments (Y/N) continued to make as he followed her path in the open clearing, but paused as her threat struck him as humorous but wilful. He knew she was right, he’d been under Maria’s spell for quite some time and he found it difficult to force himself out. He didn’t answer, nor did he break his gaze from hers. 

She felt the bitter laughter hesitate in the back of her throat as watched the newborns disappear into the dark night. It began to strong wave of heat to run up her throat as she imagined hunting herself and immediately, she directed her thoughts elsewhere. 

He watched as her eyes loonily stared into the night as the vampires continued on, but she fought hard to ignore the powerful cravings desiring more. In the years time of being a vampire, Jasper had never experienced hunger this intense. He himself struggled with his own, but he took on the other surrounding newborns… but hers were three weeks overdue. Jasper’s body stiffened as wind whistled through the trees and allowed human scent to travel along, causing her throat to tighten and the flowers to crumble under her grasp. 

“You’re in pain.” Jasper’s comments were forced out as he felt the ability of his attempt to calm her down. He watched as her head turned the other way, avoiding the truth of his words. “too much pain to withstand one more night, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) clenched her tightened jaw as he attempted to sympathise with her under the painful hunger, but his empathy ways were causing him to experience it as well. He was right, but she wasn’t going to follow along if it meant Maria controlled her. “Just leave me be… you don’t need to feel this either.” 

“I am not leaving.” Jasper knew he was supposed to manipulate the young newborn, but in this moment he couldn’t find it in his heart to do that. “I have used my gift on many newborns… but not a single one has endured this type of pain.” He felt her eyes brush over her shoulder as he refused to leave her side and instead, shifted the topic of conversation. “When you were human what was your worst injury?” 

She noticed him attempting to distract her from the pain coursing throughout her body and for a moment, she appreciated him. “I used to climb the big oak tree beside our home. My mother, she… she would get so angry with me because ‘young maidens aren’t to do that in a dress.’” Her voice mocked her mother’s tone and found herself laughing with sweet tears in her eyes. “My brother and I used to race to see who could get the highest. He always beat me,” She smiled as the memory of her older brother calmed the pain. “when I was nine, one of the tree branches gave out once I got too high,” She paused as she bent down and drew up the skirt she wore. “I tried holding onto the tree, but the bark wasn’t too kind.” 

Jasper listened intently as she began to open up to him about her childhood, tears gracing her eyes as she wiped them away with a forced smile. He expected her to say something as simple as skinning her knee, but the moment she hiked up her skirt he caught the scar on his mid thigh. It seemed her skin had caught the bark as she was sliding down the tree, causing the skin to open up. He was quite surprised as well because women were scorned to show even their collarbones. 

“My mother was so mad.” She glanced up to catch his eyes running up and along the scars gracing the inner thigh. “I landed on my back and the wind was knocked out of me, but I lived to tell the tale.” Her fingers released the skirt dropping it back down to her ankles. “Care to share a tale of your own, Major?”  

Jasper found himself snapping back to the sound of her voice and shared a smile of his own before sighing. “I have many scars.” Without hesitating he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the countless bite marks gracing his skin, while his emotions steadied he felt the impact of hers. She felt sorrow at the sight of bite marks and immediately frowned. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” 

She felt her throat tighten as his comment left her shaking her head. “Is this from teaching newborns?” She watched as his eyes attempted to brush off the pain, but she could feel almost every bite covering his skin. “You don’t deserve this, Jasper.” 

“Jasper?” He couldn’t hide his smirk as he unrolled the sleeves to hide the bite marks once more. “I believe you only knew me by Major.” Jasper felt her saddened eyes burning into him as he attempted to cover up his emotions as he did the scarring. “You don’t have to worry (Y/N).” 

“… and yet, you worry for me?” She questioned him as he began to cover up the battle wounds and glanced the other way. (Y/N) two stood alone as most of the newborns had gone to feast and Maria had left with them. It might’ve been the only time to speak to him without anyone interfering. “I have seen you teaching them, they seem to be rash.” 

Jasper raised an eyebrow as she spoke of fighting the newborns. “You have been watching then?” He tilted his head to the side before shrugging his shoulders. “You must learn as well, if we find ourselves having to fight others you will lose your life.” He wasn’t surprised to find her not resounding to his comment, but even more surprised for her to long for that. “… what is the reason behind not feeding, (Y/N)?” 

“… You can feel my emotions, can you not?” She watched as Jasper’s eyes narrowed on her before his chin raised to give a stiff nod in response. “I know the only reason Maria has allowed me to stay is because of my gift, am I correct?” His silence again answered her question and so she continued. “I am sure she would’ve ended my life by now if I was without it.” 

She seemed to silence Jasper with the rather striking comment, his eyes running over her own before breaking the gaze. He seemed dazed by the shocking accusation but she didn’t hesitate when the truth seemed to rattle her core. (Y/N) struck a nerve as tension rose between both of them at the mention of Maria ending her life. However, it didn’t seem she were wrong either. 

“I can help you get stronger with your gift, (Y/N).” Jasper wasn’t surprised to watch her gaze break away from his at the mention of his helpful hand. “And I’m speaking without Maria’s input.” Her eyes carried up into the stars as he mentioned Maria once more. “It’s difficult to gain control of your powers when you don’t understand them.” 

She didn’t want to gain control of her powers, not when it strengthened Maria’s chances of having a stronger army. It wasn’t just her murderous streak and slashing her family apart, but witnessing her controlling and manipulating ways over Jasper sickened her. (Y/N) carried guilt for Jasper as he seemed charmed by the stunning vampire… and she wished to end her life for it. 

“I don’t believe you.” You whispered as Jasper’s eyes then widened at your response and as you stepped back away from him, his speed beat you from going any further. He now stood beside you with crimson eyes burning into you while a snarl left his lips. “Move out of my way.” You demanded as the anger inside you was attempting to be shoved away by Jasper’s strength, but you weren’t having it. “Quit it before I do something I regret.” 

Jasper didn’t want to harm the innocent newborn, not when he found himself fond of her, but the moment she began to speak as if she knew him. He’d lost it. He kept his stance right before her, not daring to move an inch but her anger radiating off him with his attempts to calm her. “You need to calm down or else-“ 

(Y/N) had enough. She effortlessly shoved Jasper a few yards back as her strength overtook his, but he regained himself faster than her as she attempted to run. He followed her into the wooded area, only for her to make it a couple hundred yards before he had her pinned against a large oak tree. She wanted to fight him, but the moment her met his eyes… she couldn’t find it in herself to strike him. 

He felt her submission as his hands held her by the collarbone and pressed her into the tree, his eyes filled with rage as she attempted to fight him. However, Jasper noticed her unwillingness to fight the moment she raised her eyes to him. He understood… the moment he tried to lay a hand on her, he ended up regretting it moments later. 

“I don’t want this Jasper.” She felt the heavy wave of emotions of her own doing hit her stomach as if she’d been punched, but stood strong as his hands fell from her collarbone. “I can’t control this anger she brings me, I cannot withstand that woman since I found my mother…“ 

Jasper had been forced to endure the flood of emotions from countless newborns in the past, but her suffering was more than he could withstand. He kept his hands along her collarbone with his touch turning soft while her trembling chest made it difficult for her to stand, her cries continuing as she held her head down ashamed of her actions. She wasn’t ashamed to fight him, but the weakness of her tears being seen under his watch. 

“I don’t wish for you to fight this, (Y/N).” He watched her eyes dart up to meet his as he then sent restful waves throughout her body. Jasper was more pleased to see she wasn’t fighting him, nor using her powers to stop him or fight him off. She relaxed under his touch and soon her last tear fell. “I am not asking you to forget what Maria has done… that is not possible.” He meant what he said when regarding Maria’s malicious actions, but knew he had to tread carefully. “I am asking you to feed because you will only hurt yourself in this.” 

(Y/N) felt the weakened body of hers slump against the large oak as the overwhelming scent of dirt hit her nostrils, but left her wrinkling her nose instead. He was right… she was craving blood more than anything and her body was betraying her for it. His own hunger was intense, but her added taste for blood was drawing him near the edge of unbearable. “… and you.” She lifted her gaze to his and watched as he understood the meaning behind what she said. 

Jasper was taken aback by her caring streak but slowly nodded as his head as he struggled to withstand her concern. He felt it… she craved for him to take the edge off of his own hunger, but even more so for herself so he wouldn’t carry it as well. He felt her genuine tone strike him as odd, but stood blind to it because Maria’s was manipulative and he didn’t want to admit that. “I’m sorry?” 

“You’re baring more pain because of my hunger….” She watched his head hang in shame as he finally had another vampire understanding his struggle. “I can only imagine what it’s like with the rest of them around you.” She referenced to the other newborns missing at the moment. “Maria knows you’re in pain, yet she doesn’t care.” 

Jasper lifted his head to speak and defend Maria, but he had no words. You were right and he couldn’t fight you on a singlet hing regarding her self-serving ways. It made you sick to know that such a selfish creature stood stronger than most. 

“She does.” His words fell flat at her feet while the forced laughter fell from her lips, causing his dark eyes to meet her own. He was surprised to see her poking the dangerous game of fighting Maria. 

“Look at you…” She grabbed him by the arms at his side and pulled the sleeves up to his forearm, revealing the bitten marks along his skin. His eyes following the abrupt behaviour. “you’re branded by her demands, are you not?” He didn’t flinch under her touch, nor did he break away from her heavy gaze. “I have not once seen Maria attempt to heal your wounds or stop them. She calls you hers, yet she sends you to fight her battles whether or not it means death.” He forced his wrists out of her hands before she mindlessly shook her head. 

Jasper told himself not to listen, not when Maria had whispered to him many times of newborns attempting to feed him with lies. He had to believe her… she changed him for a reason. “Maria is my mate.” He was falling himself with that statement and when he forced her to drop his wrists, she watched her eyes glisten with disbelief. “You’re right. She changed you for the sheer pleasure of gaining another newborn, but if only she knew how moronic you were before.” 

The insult her hurled hit her directly in the stomach as if a sharp punch had been delivered by his hand. She stiffened as the idea of his statement made her force a bitter chuckle. “… I’d gladly be moronic over delusional.” She pushed past him with ease and made her way back towards the barn. 

He felt her anger as she dared to spit those words at him and while he wanted to lash out with a strike, he refrained. Jasper wasn’t provoked by her last statement, nor the statements before that but the gut-wrenching truth he wished to deny. His despair wasn’t matched by the anger as he found himself slamming his fist into the oak tree before him, causing it to snap in half and tumble into the soil below. 

He told himself he would never be able to admit the truth… until (Y/N) slapped him directly across the face with it. Jasper hated himself for even believing Maria used him as an upper hand, he felt as if he was betraying her by entertaining that thought. However, he recalled that night three weeks ago when out hunting for a human and ever since his gut feeling changed with time. 

Through all of this anger, Jasper took off running into the darkened woods with his mind racing back to the three nights. He could recall every moment from beginning to end. He’d found himself battered with bites and deepened hunger and his emotions peaking as hunger took over pain. For once, he’d found himself furious with his sire. 

Maria didn’t bother to teach the newborns after Jasper’s fresh wounds were healing and his hunger raging, so he withstood each painful infliction. He’d found himself at the end of his rope and went out to feast off humans, but by his third killing, he craved something else. 

Jasper came to a stop over a peak mountain and let out a harsh breath, his eyes running over the small town below and catching the fresh scent of blood being spilled. He was fully aware of Maria’s army running wild below and glanced away in shame, while his own head raced with memories. 

When the third human dropped at his feet Jasper cleaned his lips clean of blood, not daring to take another glance at the human. Instead, his eyes caught the stars up above and made his way out towards the woods to rejoin his clan. He knew he needed to return before Maria came searching, but he stopped short at the idea of returning to hell. Jasper was tired of the bites, the fighting, and the manipulative whispers of Maria in his ear. 

He craved more than what she forced him to be… he wanted to leave, yet he knew he couldn’t. 

Jasper stood near the Texas woods with his eyes closed at the idea of returning to screams and torture. He desperately craved inner peace and serenity to surround him through this mayhem swarming his mental health. 

He found himself begging for someone to grace his life and calm the madness… he prayed for an angel. 

It was the exact moment the scent of fresh lavender fills his nostrils and human blood mixed to cause his eyes to see red. He’d never been so drawn to blood before but he craved it even when his hunger had calmed itself with the death of three humans. Jasper sped through the woods with intent as he followed that scent, not daring to break away from it. He couldn’t when it matched the marks on his skin and been embedded in. 

He didn’t travel any further when he found himself standing by a small cottage on the edge of a family farm. Horses filled the land with fresh flowers trailing along the edge, but he searched for the scent he traveled for. It was then she appeared under a large oak tree with her eyes wide on the stars and hair braided with flowers in between the waves. He watched from afar as she sung sweet lullabies and plucked the lavender with bare feet brushing into the greens underneath her toes. 

It was in that moment Jasper felt as if his prayers had been answered. It was (Y/N)… and it frightened him more than Maria’s alluring power over him. 

An hour had passed since Jasper returned back to the barn and when hiking back towards the trail, he found himself returning to (Y/N) ’s screams. He felt the coursing pain of hunger return as he stood at the barn doors and once looking inside, he caught onto why. It seemed Maria was more desperate than he believed. 

A human sat before (Y/N)’s feet as Maria forced her closer with the scent of blood heavy in the air. Bite marks scattered along the body as the weakened pulse left all of the vampires thirsting for more, but not nearly as much as (Y/N). Her legs were buckling underneath her as Maria’s hand tugged her closer towards the human. 

“Unhand me you vile, egotist-“ 

Maria’s laughter cut her off as she attempted to pull herself away, but her weakened state wouldn’t allow her to fight to her ability of a newborn. “You think you can undermine me?” Her anger was clear under the strengthened grip on her arm. “I am one step ahead of you.” She nodded her head towards Lottie, who stepped closer to the human and dared to open a flesh-wound. 

Jasper felt the exhausting pain (Y/N) was withstanding and once catching onto Maria’s doing, he stepped in. He immediately grabbed Lottie’s arm and jerked her back, displeasing Maria who looked on in horror to see her lover betray her. 

“Jasper… love, please do step aside.” Her lavish voice was enough for Jasper to weaken, but in this instance he felt his blood boiling as she attempted to outsmart him as well. 

He forced the dagger in Lottie’s hand to drop as he then tossed it aside and shook his head. “I agree she needs to feed, but on her own time.” Jasper watched Maria’s eyes switch to complete shock and anger as he dared to speak out. “forcing her will only-“

“Will only what?” Maria snapped as her nails began to dig into the skin of (Y/N) who didn’t dare flinch at the pain when her body nearly felt numb. “I know what it will do, it will cause her hunger to binge, but what choice do I have? I need her for a future battle and I will NOT let her-“ 

“Die?” Jasper questioned her once again with a raised eyebrow and shook his head. “You don’t want her dead because of a disadvantage to your upperhand. She’s more than that Maria.” He spat with meaning as Maria’s reddened eyes narrowed onto him with complete anger and bafflement. 

The barn fell silent as Jasper’s comment angered their sire, but most of all surprised most of the clan as they gathered around to watch the scene playout. Maria’s threatened eyes watched as Jasper glared into hers with complete terror and festering mess, but out of retaliation she sunk her fangs into (Y/N)’s scarless collarbone and let her fall to the ground. Her pain settling into the withering pain coursing through as she kicked her aside and stepped towards Jasper. 

“… she’s nothing to you, do you understand me?” Maria spoke with her hands at Jasper’s throat and her nails now piercing his skin without a care. “I made you, you’re mine and she’s nothing but a power. Is that clear?” Her silent tone causing Jasper to truly see her anger that was for once directed at him. 

Jasper felt her anger as her hand graced his neck as he stood without flinching under her touch, but he didn’t dare let her know he could feel her power over the others slipping away. Maria was growing weaker and the others sensed it. It was because of (Y/N). He simply nodded his head and felt Maria’s hand release his neck, then placing a softened kiss on his cheek. He shuttered under her lips and stepped away. His eyes meeting (Y/N) as she laid on the ground, her soft cries breaking him as he knelt beside her to help her stand. 

Maria glanced over her shoulder to catch Jasper’s helping hand and immediately, she wished to act on it but instead she stepped further away gesturing for Lottie to follow. She was boiling inside as her anger was festering with time and now exploding. Once outside the barn she turned to Lottie with her eyes burning with rage. “… we can’t afford to lose that power of hers… but we need to break her.” She received a nod from the blonde haired vampire and continued. “You mentioned reading over a journal in her home, correct? What was written?” 

“… She’s quite dull.” Lottie realised her answer wasn’t pleasing and continued. “she mostly wrote about her adventures with her father, but aside from that she mentioned her brother returning from war soon and-“

“Brother?” Maria’s eyes gleamed with venom as a smirk curled into her upper lip. “When is this brother due to return?” Her plan for demise fell into her lap as she listened intently to Lottie’s descriptions of (Y/N)’s older brother returning home to death. 

Inside the barn, (Y/N) was struggling to stand on her own two feet as the venom struck her nerves once again. However, Jasper’s strong arm helped her walk over to rest on a haystack. She slumped against the prickly hay and struggled to wither under the pain, but Jasper’s touch helped relieve it. “Please… you can barely take this.” She whispered under her breath. 

“I’m stronger than you believe me.” His charm worked as she chuckled under the cold grip of his hand. “… you need to feed (Y/N). Even if it is just a bit.” Jasper spoke with care as he glanced away from her and attempted to brush off the eyes following his every move. He watched your eyes glance towards the nearly dead human as the scent of his blood carried thick in the air. “please (Y/N).” 

She was hesitant to give into the hunger, but she felt his emotions of empathy working over her as the powers opened her eyes to him. It happened faster than she expected as her body craved the humans blood; she found yourself digging her teeth into the humans skin and feasting off the littlest blood touching her tongue. 

Jasper released the newborn as she began to feed with her hunger no longer depriving her of further hunger. However, he hesitated to draw himself further away as her red eyes came to normal and glanced out the barn doors… she was debating for more blood lust. 

“I will follow you if you wish.” His words sent shivers down her spine as he seemed to care for her well being. She shook your head and with the strengthened body, she stood on her feet and wiped her lips of any excess blood. 

“I’m fine.” 

The Major felt her lies imprint into his skin as she glanced away to deny the hunger, but he was quick to react by drawing a smile and leaning closer. “Follow me.” He moved towards the sliding barn doors, ignoring the stares and glares from the others as she trailed close behind. She were shocked to find no sight of Maria close, but she didn’t allow that to stop her. 

(Y/N) attempted to ask him where they were headed, but she didn’t bother as she trailed further and further from the barn. She felt enlightened by the newfound energy coursing through her deaden veins, but she also hesitated to go further as she was frightened by her own self. It wasn’t until Jasper stopped dead short in the middle of the woods that she found her voice. 

“What are we doing here?” 

Her question left Jasper giving a smile as he carried his eyes back to her with an eager curl of his lip. “You mentioned you used to climb trees with your brother…” He removed his army jacket and placed it by his feet. “I imagine you’d be pretty damn good at it now.” He watched her eyes widened with excitement as he began to roll up her sleeves. “… that is if you can beat me.” 

She felt joy rush to your heart as she glanced up at the large oak trees surrounding the land of forrest. “First one to break a branch loses.” His eyebrow raised at the rule she delivered and immediately, she tilted her head to the side. “I truly hope you don’t mind losing… Major.” 

“I think I can handle that.” Jasper expected her to give a little more with her new-found energy, but her tongue lashing was enough to make him laugh as she dashed up the tree before him. He hesitated in the flash of a moment as the happiness in her eyes was enough to make him fall back down to reality. He began to understand why Maria despised (Y/N)… it wasn’t because of her natural beauty or her ability to manipulate powers without trying. 

She threatened Maria’s power over the entire army, but most importantly her Major. 

#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #Major Jasper Whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #imagine twilight #Jasper Hale Imagine #Jasper Whitlock Imagine #Bella Swan #edward cullen #Alice Cullen #Rosalie Hale #Emmett Cullen #Esme Cullen #Carlisle Cullen

[helahades]

the sexiest wip list

alright! reminder that this is a dark fic blog. dark fics are not just noncon, but uncomfortable subject matter and questionable thought processes and unreliable povs. control your media experience and read warnings carefully! they’ll be updated when the actual story releases, but these are wips, and i don’t know them all bc I simply have not finished these stories!

some darker warnings on this list include: threats of sexual violence, obsession, death, and previously mentioned unreliable povs from obsessive characters who justify themselves.

final reminder to read warnings! some of these are intense.

1) Jealous Thor (Untitled)

warnings: cheating, mean!reader, angst

You’re falling for Steve right under his nose. Each day, Thor feels you pull farther away. Each night, he squeezes his eyes shut as you lie asleep next to him, and tries to forget the way you lookat Steve these days with hunger and adoration that you once gave to him.

“He is earthly. For all his body’s and mind’s possession of unnatural experimental growth, he is earthly and limited, so Thor can’t understand why you’re drawing away from him, and telling Steve the jokes, giving Steve all the looks that had him hooked. The lingering eyes and touches… they ride the line of decency.”

—

2) Heimdall Angst (Untitled)

warnings: major character death, grief, existentialism, out of body experiences

Connected by incredible wisdom and duty to fate, you and The Gatekeeper of Asgard are pulled together by the unique pairing of your mutual seeing abilities—made for greatness, and destined for tragedy.

This story stretches from the moment that catalyzes your meeting, across the years of loving him, to the moment you lose him.

“A fateful tragedy. He sees an arrow through a dove.

He wonders how he missed your encounter with him in the whispers of the cosmos.

“—They’re star deaths,” you say abruptly, “the ones that move and change color. They speed up when you watch them—show their whole life to come...I read about them. Most can’t ever see them life this”.

Turning to where you stand beside him, his eyes swirl with the magic of knowing you, of your destinies combined. He sees you stare at his stars like they’re new.

“Only us.”

—

3) Away from the Party - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, dubcon, roughness, manipulation, unintentional exhibition

Steve hates these parties. After a mission, the work has just begun, and he fumes at the impossible way that Tony covers all problems in diamonds and pearls. Some things aren’t meant to be pretty.

You are. You’re soft, and kind, and you coax him gently away from the party—the source of his frustrations, with promises of leaving early, of calming down. Oh. He’ll calm down. And you’re just the toy to help. In a closet a corner away from the government’s finest, America’s golden boy has a hand on your throat and one demand.

“Keep quiet.”

“Of course, you both ended up at the party anyway, but with you swirling cool fingertips at his aching temples and rubbing softly over the stretch marks on his chest, he couldn’t find anything in heart to disagree with you then.

Even now with his erection pressed to you through barriers of clothing, with scarcely retrained and monstrous lust, he is steadily calmed by your presence. This rush, the secrecy—it excites him. And you pull him through the haze of it.”

—

4) Monster Thor Headcanons

warnings: wound and gore descriptions, some sadness

The fantasy of it all. Aesthetic, Lifestyle, Behavior. Some talking points include: hair, horns, hints about how he was influenced by a soft and charming lover many years ago, general horniness. Also spoiler that I’ve decided that He is 8ft tall

“Thor is...ancient. he is a being of war and folklore and raw energy and he’s earthy and elemental and connected. and form follows function. (and also whatever horny thoughts we want )”

—

5) The Call

warnings: voyeurism, death threats, obsession, implied sexual assault threats

When Frank comes to visit you, you beam like a sunflower. You’ve rearranged your room, and you’re excited about it. He would like to revel in the moment with you...but he’s caught up in one detail. Your bed is pushed against the window...and he can’t convince you to let him move it.

After a night of sin and wild lovemaking, you lie asleep bathed in moonlight, and Frank wakes to a call. Billy. He’s set up on a rooftop miles away, and he’s got things to say about Frank’s girl and what he’d like to do to her. A red dot on his chest means he can only listen. To your gentle snoring, and to the twisted fantasy of a brother unhinged.

“Black silk pajamas. Hair wrapped up in satin. Yellow light almost like sun stretches to the ceiling, but not quite over the rolling hills of your silhouette turned away from him in quiet sleep.

Frank’s hardly got the time to wonder why he’s awake, because his phone buzzes slow again. Pulls the moment he realizes he will have to break this magic peace to molasses and he half fills his lungs before huffing it out and flipping the phone open and tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“What.”

“She’s a reaaaaal pretty one, Frankie boy. You sure know how to pick em.”

—

6) Loki Longing (Untitled)

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, angst

On the Eve of the birth of Asgard’s heir, Thor is away. In a bath of flowers and magic to ease your pain, maidens worry over you, and Loki rescues you away, letting you rest in bed, and dreaming of the days when you were his lover instead.

“I’d like to rest…in my bed now, please.”

The ladies look to each other. It hasn’t been long enough for the herbs to take effect.

“My Queen,” the eldest starts—

“She is certainly your queen,” a silky silver timbre interrupts, “I’ve learned it’s best to mind her.”

His eyes fall to your form, and some blocked conflict—some guarded affection rests there. Some longing tucked in a pocket like an impossible secret.

—

7) With Child - Obsessive Steve

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, obsessive Steve

Watching you content, and very pregnant, as you gaze adoringly at your husband Thor from where you rest, half in his lap, Steve can’t help but fantasize. He thinks about impregnating you, the mechanics of sex with a pregnant woman, and being the god who does it all.

“Do you have to lie on your side? Is Thor just behind you, spooning you, fucking with desperate thrusts because you drive him so crazy this way? Steve has heard—and he doesn’t know where—that women get wetter when with child. Steve can’t help but wonder...does Thor need to hold one leg up for you—to save your back that’s so often heavy with the weight of supporting his legacy?”

—

8) Dean’s Girl

warnings: unreliable pov (john), voyeurism, masturbation + voyeurism

John notices the way you avoid him. You always seem to leave a room just as he’s coming into it. He’s living in the bunker now, and having to realize a lot of things that have changed for the both of his sons.

For example, his oldest, the last he’d ever think would fall in love, has got a pretty girl that dismisses her practical father in law with pointed boredom. She’s protective—how can he blame her after all that he’d put Dean through?

She’s pretty, and John is only a man, and can’t stop himself from just...looking. It starts with a convenient bend as she unloads the dishwasher...then he..can’t help that the door was open and she happened to be changing right there. He also can’t help it the next time when he’s just a little too obvious, pleasuring himself to the smell of her pretty lace panties.

—

9) Operator, Operator - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, financial troubles?, mentions of creepiness against and danger to sex workers, exhibitionism via phone call

Underpaid and overworked, you along with your roommate/secret crush/ best friend Steve have trouble making ends meet on minimum wage + his art commissions. When you start picking up calls on a phone sex line, he’s able to reason. It’s quick cash, and Steve is mature enough to keep his thoughts appropriate...at first.

One day, he wakes to the sound of breathy moans and a faked orgasms. He wonders how you would sound if only you were high on real pleasure...and there’s no time like the present. Don’t hang up. This call has only just started.

“By the time this year—junior year—swung around, Steve realized he was only catching glimpses of you. He would hear the shake of your keys when you tossed them on the counter, your backpack when it thudded to the floor, and most recently—your moans.

You must not know he’s home. Ever since you started online sex work, specifically being a phone sex operator, you seemed to also make the silent choice that more graphic calls would be saved for when he’s not around.

He gets it. You both split the rent, and Steve has done jobs he’d rather not mention in desperate times, when commissions came short. Still, sometimes you can’t tell when he’s here, and despite his best efforts to push down his arousal, to tell himself you’re his best friend...he’s an artist, and he can’t help but listen, and certainly not the wandering of his imagination.”

—

10) Professor Steve Medfet - (Untitled)

In an alternate timeline, a washed up Steve Rogers starts a new life in a run down city as an art / anatomy teacher. A class of hungry college students is filled to the brim each year, expecting the unspoken promise of their favorite hands on lab. You.

You keep his class sated, in turn giving the professor job security for funding his simple life out of the public eye. Each year when he calls, you come. Each year the students find a new way to tear you embarrass and degrade, much to the pleasure of the professor.

“Same speech. Same meaningless words. Focusing on the stillness of your skin and how it feels to be alone, you can almost drown out the way his tone edges toward excitement, the way the chairs shift and squeak—the anticipation.

Pretending your heart doesn’t send heat and cold flashes through you and run your breathing shallow, you look at the nicks in the door and try to guess their stories.

But then the metal frame clicks, the door unlatches. Professor Rogers wears a gentle smirk. It doesn’t ease your mind one bit.”

—

11) Swelter - Forest God Thor

warnings: sexual scenes, time limited conflict, religious themes

With a sickness overtaking nearby villages, yours is next, and has decided to sacrifice you to the cause of foraging for preventative herbs. You venture into the ancient woods after a rare vine of flowers, but leave with much more after encountering Thor.

After disturbing him where he lies cooling in the bank of a stream, you vow to prove the true intention of your soul—that you aren’t a hunter, or witch after his form or faculty, but a pious girl, also needing to escape the heat.

“You’re in the old woods now, and aside from the trees and the mossy nature tangled around them, there is only Him. Thor.

God of the harvest, bringer of land’s wealth, fertility, and vitality. You know of the sacrifices, of the woods where He is rumored to live in an unseen form, of livid white fire in the sky if He is severely displeased.

His name must not be spoken outside of prayer or ritual, and even now, you stutter to think it, and wonder if you are alone in your thoughts.”

[...]

“The frustration and the fear in your dilemma disturb the air, disquieting the otherwise enduring peace of the old woods, which rouses a large form in the cool muddy bank of the stream. It is only leaves shifting at first. Faded pumpkin and dried oak scatter—and suddenly the air smells like rain and your mouth sets around the tastes of copper and sage. Then, the leaves tumble off of a beast of a mass that rises slowly, and you note that it felt like the atmosphere changed to accommodate its awakening.”

—

12) Halloween Party - Thor Smut (Untitled)

warnings: smut, heartbreak, depressed!reader

An exclusive and mysterious Halloween party is still on this year—and you’re invited. It’s meant to be so extravagant and flashy an Avenger will one day attend, and all attendees decorate themselves in costumes inspired by the heroes, hoping to be noticed.

Fresh after a breakup with your boyfriend Brock, you take one half of the preordered couples costume and dress up as a goddess, determined to have a good night with your friends, find some excitement, and most importantly, a new god to match.

“Standing solemn, floor to ceiling windows allow in a few milky rays reflected by the moon, but they’re all the gems of your bodice need to gleam to a suitor's eye. Tonight, while you plan to rid your soul of another, you are welcomed with open arms and careful consideration as the final offering at an altar. You are seen by a god.”

—

13) Grief

warnings: dead!reader, guilt, grief, scary science, how do i say this... smut that is borderline necroph—there’s a replica of you, dark!steve, tony lives, pepper dies

Steve’s world is upside down. He’s lost the light of his life, and is completely in the dark. Luckily for him, Tony is back in the business of reality rejecting technology, and has found a way for him to be with you again.

At an abandoned cottage, Steve brings an armful of your scents to give the Tony’s invention sensory data, and faces the strange reality of what’s always been his worst stage...his worst trait. Denial.

“Dozens of test bottles full of manufactured scents, the kind of thing you smell borrowing a sweater, or with your face in the crook of someone’s neck. Essentially, the sort of organic thing that cannot be recaptured.

Steve’s got an armful of perfume and body wash. Of conditioner and deodorant, of all the elements he can think that make you smell the way you would—the way you do.

He wills the thoughts to be present tense. If he pretends you are alive, maybe it will look like it is you only sleeping. He wonders how well Tony knows the texture of your hair suddenly, because if it isn’t right, the experience will fall to shambles. It currently walks a plank over shambles. One wrong interpretation or surprise, and Steve will find himself spinning and burning with the fall into a new and uncharted taboo.”

14) Night Drive - Dean Smut

warnings: road head

On a long overnight drive, your back pressed into the seat of the impala makes you miss lying in bed with your lover, makes you miss his gentle caress right next to you...so you remind him how good it is to be close.

“You think about it when he hums a little tune. When he hums the song he wishes would play and thinks will come up next, it is eerily soft, and eerily similar to the soft contentment he sighs when you kiss on his neck.

When he reaches for your hand to hold, it makes you consider the shortness of the distance between you, and you think of pulling his cock out right here, giving him head that melts him here on this endless road.

Looking at him, he senses your interest—he turns his head to meet your eyes, throws up a grin of boyish charm. He’s happy to be here with you. These night drives are fine. He’s never minded them. But they’re even lovelier when in your company.”

—

15) Shadow - The Bucky Mystery

warnings: stalking, injury, sexual assault, canon typical hydra torture, mentions of bucky being forced to assault people, traumatized reader

On the run from Hydra, there aren’t many things that Bucky can remember. Inside his mind, there aren’t many feelings that make sense. Mostly, he feels guilt. Horror.

Following you to the gym where you practice ballet alone in the nights is all that makes sense, and for reasons he can’t explain, he feels drawn to you.

As time goes on, Bucky feels more enticed by his desire, you start to feel eyes staring from the walls, motivations and traumas are revealed, and in a horrible symphony, you both remember your connection.

“He’s a matte shadow against the noir shine of metal walls—an observer in the unlit quiet on his side of the room.

And he feels his unimportance. It’s humbling. Holds up the room like chunky beams and high rafters, dressed in the same layered neutrals. Framing the same cotton candy dancer, silent as the pad of her slippers when she turns her weight onto a straight leg, other coming up with her ankle pointed to the bend of her knee.

She spins, she spins and she whips her head around with each one, but it’s Bucky who gets dizzy.”

send an ask with any questions, or for more details about a particular story!

#which wip #follower poll #future fic hints #update

[justasparkwritings]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader (but really you can lift out Namjoon and put anyone there)

Genre: Slice of Life / Angst 

Rating: PG-13 

Warnings: Swearing maybe 1 time, Discussion of police brutality/murder, Discussion of the trauma black and brown people are enduring, Discussion of the Chauvin verdict, Discussion of lives lost due to being black 

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: It’s a bad omen whenever I call Namjoon in the morning. 

Note: This is heavy. This hurt to write. This hurts to read back. This is my reality. This is not me using police brutality to amass a following or gain notoriety or become anything other than what I am. This is meant for me to process, and for anyone of color who might be feeling the same thing as I am. This is meant as a way for me to process, as are so many of my other stories. This is my grief. 

          Namjoon knows that whenever I call in the middle of the night, or first thing in the morning, something is wrong. He couldn’t call it beginners luck, or intuition. Rather a series of events that had resulted in a pattern of behavior from me, his beloved. A call in the morning meant something had gone wrong between me waking up and returning home from work. A call in the morning meant I am a volcano of emotions, either crying, laughing, or both, distraught or exhausted, anxious or depressed. It means that across the globe, working on Pacific Time, something nearly catastrophic had occurred.

           A call in the morning, unless previously scheduled, has always been a bad omen.

           The first time I called him in the morning, my period was late. Like late late, to which he reminded me I had switched birth controls and that could’ve been the problem, it was.

           The second time, I was having a slight mental breakdown. I’d been sick for months with a variety of ailments, was worked to the bone and crumbling at my desk.

           The third time, Atatiana Jefferson was murdered by police in her home after a neighbor called a non-emergency number to report that her door was open.

           The fourth time, Ahmaud Arbery was murdered by two white men while on a run.

           The fifth time, Breonna Taylor was murdered in her bed while sleeping.

           The sixth time, George Floyd was murdered by police in broad daylight, crying out for his mother stating the simple fact that he couldn’t breathe.

           The seventh time, I was in hysterics, sobbing relentlessly into the receiver. I couldn’t handle it, I couldn’t handle another protest in tear gas, I couldn’t handle my kin fearing for their lives, I couldn’t handle the thought that my niece would have to sit through the talk. I couldn’t handle the idea that Namjoon and I would have to sit with our children, go over the rules and procedures for interacting with authority, prepare ourselves day after day that they could not come home. That no money or wealth would protect them if their eyes were shaped like his, their nose wide like mine. 

           What could he do? What could he say? He and the rest of Bangtan could throw as much money at various organizations as they could, watching ARMY meet it, raise it, push others to donate.

           But what did that do, other than show the world these black lives were worth more in death than life? That we’re worth nothing unless we’re imprisoned or in the ground? What did it do to fix the system, to abolish the inherent nature of police, originally created to patrol slaves? What did it do to protect black and brown bodies, to ensure their safety, to demand their lives be worth more alive?

          Nothing. It did nothing.

          He had gotten mad at me, why wasn’t I grateful that ARMY came through? Why wasn’t I glad that Bangtan had seen the news and wanted to help? Why couldn’t that be enough for what they could do in Seoul, sidelined by a pandemic?

          He didn’t get it.

          The eighth time, I had been in a minor incident and had to interact with the police. I had called my father to my side, a decision that could’ve easily resulted in his death. I called Namjoon shaking, how had I managed to have a successful interaction with the very people who could’ve tossed my father down, knee on his neck, and ended him? Had he driven the Tesla on purpose? Had he rolled up cautiously, in an appropriate August outfit, wallet and identification in his hand, not hidden or masked, to avoid any miscommunication? What was worse, had he done all of this without thinking?

          The ninth time I called him, a group of Asian women had been targeted and murdered by a white man. I was calm, I was put together. Namjoon wasn’t. He was inconsolable, he didn’t feel safe, he wasn’t accepting that this could be the reality if we split time in the states and Korea. How could our children be safe if this could happen, what if our daughter was at a nail salon? What if his mother or sister were? What would happen to him, to our future children, if they had eyes like him and a nose like mine? Would they be targeted for having the name Kim? Would their Americanness protect them?

          No. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

          I asked if he wanted to donate to help.

          He nearly hung up, anger seething in his deepest register.  

          How dare I suggest that money could help?

          I had thrown it back at him, and he whimpered. He buckled under the weight of his naivete. It’s one thing to copy black culture and make your fame off the commodification of our bodies. It’s another to watch the blatant racism and sexism we face on the regular basis so blatantly attack your own kind.

          He understood.

          The tenth time I called, Daunte Wright had just been murdered by police for having an air freshner in his review mirror. He had been murdered under the guise of the officer mistaking his own gun for a taser. He was 20.

          The eleventh time, 13 year old Adam Toledo had been gunned down for following the police’s directions. Even when complying, our very existence is a threat.

          The twelfth time I called, justice for George Floyd had been served. But I had to wonder, and I asked Namjoon, where was ARMY? Where were their fans? Was this not a moment, a tiny victory, for all minority groups held captive by their abusers? Were we not working towards ending the systems that allowed the white man who murdered eight women, six of Asian descent in Atlanta, the same? Did we not suffer slavery and bondage by the people who will claim this as a monumental step instead of a jury doing their fucking job? How could people who stood by him, who stood by people of his heritage, not stand for those who are bleeding in the street in their own country?

          Again, he didn’t know.

          He didn’t say anything to assuage my fears, to throw money at it, to give any answer other than to tell me he’s sorry. He’s sorry he can’t fix it or do anything about it, sorry he’s beholden to his company and their latest merger and can’t say anything. Sorry he can only understand a fraction of what I endure in this country, in my body. He was sorry.

          I don’t know when I’ll call him in the morning again, the next time a verdict will let a murderer off the hook or will send a guilty man to jail. I don’t know the next time a black or brown person will be murdered by remorseless cops. Or the next time a gunman, with a legal weapon, will murder women because it’s easier to blame them than deal with your own traumas. I don’t know when that moment will come.

          But I do know that in the United States, almost 1,000 people are murdered each year by police. That black people are 2x as likely as white people to be the victims, and black people age 25-34 are the highest risk to be murdered. I do know that the murderers of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, Sandra Bland, Atatiana Jefferson and countless others whose names we do not know, are walking around this country, not guilty.

          I know that I will always be afraid.

          I know that when I call Namjoon again, in the morning, or afternoon or middle of the night, he will answer. He will listen. He will love me and protect me as much as his money can buy.

           I do know that these brothers and sisters murders are not in vain. Rest in power. 

#thebtswritersclub #houseofddaeng #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #kim namjoon #namjoon fic #black lives matter #blm #no justice no peace #I'm just really sad #being black is hard #BTS fic #BTS fanfic #bangtanarmynet

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 12: He Gets the Visit of His Life

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4350

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 11: She Takes a Stand

Bucky had said that he’d give (y/n) a day at least to get back on her feet in terms of work, but he wasn’t sure exactly how much time she wanted. Was just one enough, or did she need more?

Eight days had passed since he’d left (y/n) at the border and, sappy and cliche as it might be, he missed her. He missed her smile and her laugh and even her sour glares she gave him when he said something stupid (which was often if he was being honest, but he only did it to get those damn glares from her).

He wondered how she was doing without him. Not that she needed him or anything—she was perfectly capable of living on her own—but she had told him she had a lot of work to do and he was curious to see how she was doing. He could only imagine how boring the paperwork was. He’d sat there and watched her do it one day and he nearly fell asleep. He felt so bad for her if that’s what she was stuck doing. Maybe he could rescue her and bring her to the island. Get her some sun. If there was one thing that was good about being in the Mediterranean, it was that it was sunny year-round.

Lying there in the grass under the shade of a tree to shield him from the sweltering sun, Bucky sighed and shut his eyes. He didn’t think it really mattered what (y/n) was doing at that moment and daydreaming about taking her out in the sun wasn’t doing any good.. The fact of the matter was that he missed her and he really wanted to see her. But he had to wait. Delayed gratification always paid out in the end and—

“Hey, Buck!” Sam’s voice called, pulling him from his thoughts. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Bucky groaned, keeping his eyes shut. “Tell my mother I’m sleeping.”

Sam laughed and Bucky felt him sit down beside him. “It’s not your mother. I think you’re going to want to go get them before Steve loses his mind.”

Bucky peeled an eye open and looked over at Sam. “What are you talking about?”

He nodded his head forward. “See for yourself.”

Bucky opened his eyes fully and sat up to look at the clearing. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Standing in the clearing, talking to Steve, were two women and a large dog. He only just recognized the woman on the left as Peggy, the goddess of magic, but he would’ve known the woman on the right anywhere. 

(y/n) was dressed for a sunny day with a pair of loose black shorts hanging from her hips, a dark grey tank top hugging her torso, and a floppy black hat casting shade on her face. Cerberus stood by her side, nearly attached to her hip, as he sniffed Steve’s hand eagerly. (y/n) had her fingers tangled in his fur as she pet him absently, listening to whatever Steve was saying. A kind smile adorned her lips. When Bucky moved, he drew her attention and those striking eyes of hers landed on him. Her smile only widened when she saw him, and she raised her other hand in greeting.

He could only stare at her, his lips parted in awe. 

He’d never seen her venture out of the Underworld in the daytime and actually have time to appreciate her in the sun. The only time he’d seen her in the Mortal World like this was when she threw him out the first time. She was beautiful then, but it was a scary beautiful—the kind that came from radiating power and “I’ll kick your ass” energy. But now? She was stunning with the gentle glow that came with familiarity and sincerity. The sun kissed her skin, giving her a lively glow that seemed to send color to her flesh. She looked alive, and Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat.

He was on his feet and making long strides over to the quartet before he knew it.

(y/n)’s eyes never left him and her smile only grew brighter as he approached. “I thought you were going to come back later,” she said, her tone taking on a teasing tone. 

A smile to match hers covered Bucky’s face. “Oh, I was, Doll, but I wasn’t sure how much time you’d need to get caught up.” 

“Only a day or two. Eight was far too many.” She chuckled. “But time is irrelevant when you live forever.” She turned her gaze from him and looked back up at Steve. “Your friend here was kind enough to fill us in on all your moping over the past few days. Did you really miss me that much?”

“He did,” Steve confirmed, nudging Bucky with his elbow. 

Bucky hissed a “Hey” at Steve before rolling his eyes. “He’s exaggerating the whole thing. I was not moping.”

“Mhmm.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyways! Why are you guys up here? I’ve never seen you topside and dressed for,” he gestured vaguely, “leisure.”

(y/n) looked down at Cerberus. “Well, we needed a bit of fresh air, and Cerberus wanted to go on a walk, so we figured we’d pop up for a bit and see you. You’ve been going under for so long that I figured it was my turn to come up and see you.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest. She wanted to come and see him. She left her kingdom to come to him. If that wasn’t dedication, he didn’t know what was. He smiled at her and offered her his hand. “Then shall we give your beloved pup a walk?”

She took it without hesitation and nodded. “Yes.” She turned her head back towards her companion. “Pegs?”

“You go on!” the other woman encouraged. “I’ll be here talking with Steve.” She shot a grin at the blond man, eliciting a blush to rise to his cheeks.

(y/n)’s eyebrows rose in acknowledgment, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright then. Come on, Buck.” She squeezed his hand and pulled him towards the trees that led out of the clearing.

He followed her, tugging her too. “This way,” he coaxed as he led her through the trees. “I know a good path for walking. Mortals rarely travel it.”

“Perfect.” She let him take the lead.

Cerberus trotted just a bit ahead of them, sniffing down at every little leaf he came across. His tail was wagging rapidly at the excitement of new surroundings. Bucky supposed he hadn’t really seen anything living in, well, ever. 

As if thinking the same thing, (y/n) giggled at her dog. “He doesn’t get out much,” she admitted sheepishly. “He’s a busy dog.”

“Oh, I bet.” Bucky hummed and pulled her closer as they emerged from the trees onto the vacant path. “I still can’t believe you came up here.”

“Honestly? Me neither.” She looked down. “But I needed a small break. Things in the Underworld… Well, they’re not looking too hot right now.”

He frowned and ducked his head to see her. “How do you mean?”

Her lips had formed a thin line as she looked ahead. “Kronos’ cage is… It was weakened. Like, so weak he could’ve broken out at any moment.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I thought that you went down every week to—”

“I did. We think that someone might’ve tampered with it. Our leading hypothesis is titans, but everyone’s been accounted for.” She growled under her breath and her hand squeezed his with frustration. “But we’ve quadrupled up on security and have spent countless hours strengthening the cage. Everyone is doing their best. Even my sisters have come down to help. At this rate, it looks like we’ll be back to normal within days and we can put this whole thing behind us as a fluke. But it’s just been so hectic down there and I needed a break.”

“So you came to me?”

“Exactly.” She rubbed small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. “I feel calm with you, Buck. So when I needed a break to just chill out, the only place that came to my mind was by your side.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but the words made Bucky’s heart pound.

He cleared his throat and his eyes darted down to her. He was glad that he could put her at ease, and he thought to himself that he could help her by breaking the tension with a bit of comedic relief. So, with a teasing grin on his face, he asked, “Do you wear anything other than black?”

Her head snapped up to him, and she stared at him. “Pardon?”

He gestured at her outfit. “Screw me, I’m trying to make conversation and lighten the mood. You’re stressed.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways! I only see you in black. Do you wear anything else?” 

A skeptical smile crossed her lips, but she answered him, “Yes. Sometimes I wear greys or reds.”

“So only gloomy colors?”

“I suppose.” Her smile gave way to an amused chuckle.

“What about a nice yellow? I think you could pull off yellow.”

Her chuckle turned into a full roar of laughter. “Yellow! Bucky, the day I wear yellow will be the day I die.”

“So never. After all, gods can’t die.”

She turned to him, a coy smile on her lips. “Now that is where you’re wrong. It’s very rare, but gods can die or be killed.” She paused. “I’ve seen it happen; in fact, I’ve had to kill some myself.” 

“What?” He turned to look at her, his eyes concerned. He’d never heard of this, and it made him anxious and worried for her to know that she had killed a god.

She continued to walk, acting as nonchalant as if she were talking about swatting a fly. “Erebus, the god of deep darkness and shadows was rebelling against us, trying to set my father free. He was a minor god, so he wasn’t a real threat, but he was still guilty of high treason against Olympus. Carol hated to do it, but she had to sentence him to death. Who better to be the official executioner than the goddess of the dead?”

Bucky continued to stare at her, his heart aching for her. He’d never really witnessed death before, but he could only imagine how horrible it was for her. Despite being surrounded by death down in the Underworld, he never could imagine what it was like dealing it out. “Wh-What did you do?”

She glanced at him sideways. “I don’t want to get into the details with you, Buck. You don’t really need to concern yourself with it. Death is… Well, it’s not always pretty. I don’t want to make you worried or ruin your innocence. Death is a nasty business.”

He nodded, but there was still something that bothered him. Every god presided over some dominion or another. Every god controlled some important aspect of life. What happens to their role when they die?

“(y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

“If Erebus is dead, then what happened to his…”

“His charges? The deep darkness and shadows?”

It was like she read his mind. He nodded. 

“I took them. When a god dies, another has to take their role. Sometimes it goes to the god that already presides over something similar, sometimes it goes to the one most willing to take it.” She lifted her hand and instantly wisps of darkness curled around her fingers. “I was already Queen of the Underworld, a place that practically bathed in the deep darkness and shadows, so I took on the role.” She closed her fist and the shadows vanished. 

Bucky couldn’t decide if he was fascinated or terrified by the whole thing. He was impressed that she had more power because of the death, but he was frightened by the prospect that any god could become more powerful by killing another. 

“Don’t worry though. It’s extremely difficult to kill a god. Only one of the Big Three’s weapons or our father’s weapon can do it in one fell swoop, and my sisters and I keep our weapons under lockdown when we aren’t using them. The only other thing I can think of that could kill a god would be a sickness, and even then it would have to be a powerful sickness.” She shrugged. “Don’t fret about it, no one is dying anytime soon.”

“If you say I shouldn’t, I won’t.”

“Then don’t.” She fell silent for a bit before laughing. “Well, that was a failed attempt at keeping the conversation light. We go from talking about clothes to talking about death.”

“Well, when your girlfriend is the goddess of the dead, death and all its tangents are probably going to be normal conversation topics.”

At that, (y/n) froze and pulled Bucky to a sudden stop.

He grunted as he stumbled, pulled by his hand which was still holding hers. “You alright?” He hadn’t been expecting that, and he didn’t think she would stop unless she had good reason to. His eyes searched her body for any sign of sudden injury or disturbance, but all he could find was the startled expression on her face. 

She stared at him, still as death, her eyes darting all over his body. Her lips were parted in a silent gasp.

“(y/n)?” he called again, his voice cautious and timid.

She was silent for a few moments more before she asked, in a voice as timid as his own, “Wh-What did you just call me?”

“(y/n)?”

“No, before that.”

He paused, wracking his brain for the word. When he finally realized what she meant, heat rose to his face. “I called you m-my girlfriend.”

Hearing it again, she turned her head down, eyeing him through her lashes. “Bucky… You’ve only known me for seven months or so. That’s… that’s not that long at all.” She hung her head, her expression unreadable.

For the first time in a while, Bucky was scared he’d overstepped the unsaid boundaries they’d established. His heart sank in his chest. What had he been thinking? Where had he gotten the idea that they were a couple? Was it from the countless hours they’d spent together? Was it the both of them kinda admitting their feelings back at Pop’s Pastries with no one but the fluorescent lights to bear witness? Why had he thought that meant she wanted to be with him even when he hadn’t asked? Was he really so stupid as to rush into this too fast and just assume? 

He lowered his head in shame. “I… I know and I’m sorry, Doll. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and I—”

“No!” she said suddenly. “I mean, I don’t mind. I just… I’ve never been an official girlfriend before and it’s just… It’s different, y’know?”

“Like a good different?”

She paused for a moment, deliberating silently, before nodding. “I think so. But, if I’m your girlfriend, does that make you my boyfriend?”

“If you want me to be.”

She was quiet for a bit before she nodded her head. The motion was slow at first, so slow that Bucky hardly noticed it, but then she began to nod her head more eagerly and a smile that lit up her whole face took over. “I’d like that very much, but I’m changing the name. ‘Boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ sounds like something teenagers use. I think I’d prefer you to be my partner.”

He chuckled. “Then your partner I shall be. I don’t care what you call me so long as I can be with you.”

“But also,” she said staring at him pointedly, “you have to actually ask me out before we can be anything. Just because I like you doesn’t mean you can cut corners.”

“Fine. (y/n), will you go out on a date with me?”

Her eyes sparkled with joy and mischief as she said, “Sure. Aren’t we on one now?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by Cerberus yipping and the sound of footsteps approaching. 

(y/n) whistled sharply, drawing Cerberus to her side, and placed her hand on his head to hide his red eyes. She straightened up, her cheery manner being replaced with something more serious, and stared down the path where two figures were making their way up.

Bucky’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen mortals up here. Most of the time he only came across animals or nymphs, but these were full-fledged humans. He tugged (y/n) closer to him, encircling her waist with his arm as he pulled her towards the side of the path to let the people pass.

They were a pair of men, right around Bucky and (y/n)’s physical age, who were huddled together and murmuring in hushed whispers. They were American based on their accents, probably tourists, but that didn’t explain why they were this deep in the island. All the tourist attractions were closer to the bay or the city.

(y/n) had stiffened as she watched them grow nearer; she was not used to living creatures. Bucky saw her eyes flash a light shade of red.

He leaned into her so his lips were just inches away from her ear. “Easy,” he whispered. “They’ll be gone soon.”

She didn’t relax; her glare was fixed on them. “Why are they here?” she hissed. “I thought you said mortals don’t come up this far.”

“Sane ones don’t,” he confirmed before leaning back and calling out to the boys, “Hey! You kids lost or something?”

The one on the left, a brunet, perked up, his eyes startled. “Oh! Uh, sorry, mister. No, we aren’t lost.”

“Then why are you here?” (y/n) took her hand off of her companion’s head and crossed her arms impatiently.

The second boy, a blond, withered slightly under her gaze, his head bowing low. “We heard from locals that the gods roamed here in ancient times. The stories say that they still do. We’re theology majors in college and doing a project on Greek Mythology. We didn’t mean to trespass.”

(y/n) snorted, probably from the comment about the gods. “You boys came up here based on some stories? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s all they are: stories. And pretty inaccurate ones if we’re being honest. I mean really? Where did they come up with some of that stuff.”

Bucky found her exasperation amusing, especially since most of the inaccurate myths were about her and her sisters. She looked about ready to rant about the truth of the gods but, although Bucky could listen to her talk for hours about anything, he really didn’t think that she should blow their cover to a couple of kids. He tightened his grip on her waist and whispered her name.

She slackened just a bit in his grip, but her eyes never left the men. “You shouldn’t be up here. It’s dangerous.”

The blond was the first to respond by saying, “Please. We just want to explore and maybe take some pictures for the project. Will you at least let us do that?”

Bucky was quick to answer. “Sure, but you guys are seriously going to want to get out of here soon. Not so nice characters venture out here sometimes, and they don’t like intruders.”

They gulped.

Bucky took (y/n)’s hand. “Come on, Doll. Let’s go.”

She whistled once more to Cerberus, giving him the okay to walk, and the three of them began to continue down the path. “Have a nice trip,” (y/n) said, her smile growing mischievous as her eyes flashed red at the boys.

The color seemed to drain from their skin as they stared at her incredulously.

When they were out of earshot, Bucky leaned down to her. “Really?”

She turned to him, her eyebrow cocked. “‘Really’ what?”

“Are you trying to blow our cover? Flashing your eyes at them?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, just trying to scare them a bit. I never get to have fun with the mortals.” Her lips turned down in a pout. “Let me mess with them!”

“You probably scared them shitless, Doll. I know I’d be freaked if I saw a pretty girl with red eyes.”

“Oh really?” She closed her eyes for a second before opening them to reveal the red that had taken over her irises.

Bucky’s breath hitched in the back of his throat as the rouge stared at him, ensnaring him with their striking gaze. Her eyes shone like rubies, piercing his soul and seeing the very depths of his heart. They were gorgeous, enchanting even. He’d never get tired of that color. “Really really,” he murmured, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to her cheek.

The giggle that passed through her lips was music to his ears. “Gods, you’re such an idiot.”

“I know.” He slowed to a stop by a small bush on the side of the path and reached for it. Simultaneously, it reached back, a small red poppy to match (y/n)’s eyes blossoming as it grew. By the time Bucky’s fingers had reached the plant and gripped the stem, it was in full bloom. Bucky plucked the flower and turned back to (y/n), tucking it behind her ear. “But I’m your idiot.” He let his hand linger on her cheek.

Color rose to her face as she leaned into his hand. “Yes you are,” she mumbled. “Come on, idiot. We probably should be getting back now. Who knows what mischief Peggy and your friend have gotten up to.”

“What? Peggy and Steve? Nah, Steve might be a dumbass, but he’s the second most responsible out of the three of us.” Bucky had no doubt that they were fine, if not hitting it off swell. Ever since his growth spurt, Steve had grown more confident around people. Though, he didn’t know if “people” necessarily included goddesses. Well, guess it was time to find out. 

(y/n) hummed as she turned him and Cerberus around to head back the way they came. “So then does that make you the least responsible?”

“Heh, yeah. But hey, my lack of responsibility led me to you.” And it did; if he had been responsible, he never would’ve taken Steve seriously and ventured down to the Underworld to get that ruby.

“True.” 

They walked in silence the rest of the way back to the clearing. 

Sam had vanished, probably to head down to the city and get food, but Peggy and Steve were sitting in the center of the field. Peggy was laughing at something Steve had said and Steve had the distinct red tint of a blush on his cheeks. Bucky smiled softly as he briefly observed them. Steve and the goddess seemed to be hitting it off. He’d have to make an inquiry about it later.

(y/n) stopped him at the edge of the clearing, right before they exited the trees, and turned to him. “Thank you for letting me come up, Bucky. Even if it was just for a bit. It was just the break I needed.”

He hummed. “Don’t mention it, Doll. You’re always welcome up here. Any time I get to see you makes my day, so feel free to visit whenever.”

“And the same goes for you, Buck.” She looked down at their hands which were still intertwined. “The Underworld is always open for you. You have every right to be down there. And I…” She frowned and bit her lip as if she was confused by what she wanted to or was about to say.

“And you…” Bucky prompted her, hoping to help her get the words out.

She held her silence for a bit longer before pressing her lips together and nodding. “And I want you to come down and see me. My responsibilities keep me pretty tied down there, I won’t always be able to come up and see you like this, but I want to see you. I want you to come down and see me. So please don’t be a stranger.”

Bucky held one of her hands in his as he used the other to cup her cheek. He gently leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I won’t, my queen.”

Satisfied with his answer, she straightened up, a soft grin on her face. “Good. Then I think Peggy, Cerberus and I will be taking our leave.”

“Good luck prying her from Steve’s hands,” Bucky said, looking out at his best friend and the goddess.

(y/n) said nothing but walked out to the pair, Cerberus keeping pace with her wide strides. She crouched down beside Peggy and said something inaudible to her, probably detailing that they had to go.

Peggy nodded and stood. She turned down to Steve and smiled, murmuring something that made him smile back. Peggy stood next to (y/n).

(y/n) dug into her pocket and pulled out what Bucky could only assume to be an Asphodel seed. But, before dropping it, she looked up at him one more time and gave him a smile. He could practically hear her saying, “Until next time,” with the grin. She tossed the seed onto the ground beneath them and the three of them were swallowed by the earth. 

A single Asphodel was left behind.

Left alone with Steve, Bucky walked into the clearing, stopping just beside the Asphodel sprout. He stared down at the flower, a soft smile playing at his lips.

Steve watched it too, but a frown was tugging the corners of his lips down. “We have to pick it, Buck. You know your mom will flip if she sees it.”

“I know. Just…” He sat down next to the flower and looked it over, the feeling of (y/n)’s hand in his lingering. “Just let it live a bit longer.”

Next 13: She Makes a Confession

#pragma(tic) #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader series #bucky series #hades and persephone #hades & persephone au #hades & persephone #persephone!bucky x hades!reader #fluff #delicatelyherdreams

[goddessofeternity]

Love Amidst the Darkness

Chapter 12: Allied Kingdoms

The following weeks in the palace were quiet and uneventful, the attack at the tournament was still fresh in the minds of the king and queen. So, Queen Hestia traveled to the far kingdom of Kastria to seek help from their southern allies. The lush forests and swamps were a sight to behold in the kingdom of Kastria. Queen Hestia peered out the window of her carriage as her advisors spoke beside her. The kingdom of Kastria was different from every other kingdom she traveled to. While other kingdoms were built on stone and fine bricks, Kastria was not. Most of the homes were built in trees and made out of branches and other earthly materials. The people of Kastria lived off the land around them. The only pieces of architecture that were made from stone and brick was the palace, their place of worship, and places of shelter from their seasonal storms. The climate was quite hot here, even though Melodia was starting to get chilly. As such, queen Hestia found herself in a summer dress, with a thin shawl over her shoulders. Her long hair was slicked back in a ponytail, a modest crown on her head. Queen Hestia rolled back her shoulders as the carriage pulled up to the front of the palace. Stepping out, she was greeted with flowers and welcomes from the people. 

 “Thank you….thank you so much…” Queen Hestia smiled graciously as she accepted the flowers. The people of Kastria were always so gracious.

 “Welcome to the kingdom of Kastria, Queen Hestia,” a guard bowed to her. “The emperor and empress are eagerly awaiting your arrival. Allow me to escort you to the throne room. Please follow me.”

 “Of course lead the way.”

 Walking down the long halls, Queen Hestia gazed at the paintings of the emperors and empresses of the past. There were many great men and women but were a problem in the past. Queen Hestia could remember clearly when the current empress' ancestor had tried to conquer Melodia over 290 years ago.

♛ 

 “Our emperor demands that you surrender your kingdom to him, or face the destruction of all you hold dear.” The messenger looked at the royals' reactions carefully. “You have one day to answer this message.”

 “I will answer this message now.” King Kyros rose from his throne angrily. He walked toward the messenger and glared down at him. Fire rose from the ground in his anger, the messenger flinched away from the intense heat. “Tell your emperor that I will not surrender my kingdom! I hereby declare war on the empire of Kastria! May the gods have mercy on the bloodshed that will be spilled between us. Now get out of my sight.”

  The messenger quickly retreated to relay the message, almost tripping over his own feet.  King Kyros sighed deeply as he looked back at his wife. Her worried expression softened his features considerably. Walking back to her, he gently kissed her hand and sat back on his throne.

 “Kyros….war….I never thought it would come to this.” Queen Hestia sighed sadly. “Why couldn’t the emperor just accept our messages of peace? War is never good for either side, it just brings pain and death.”

 “Sometimes to bring about peace...there must be war,” King Kyros gently explained, patting his wife’s hand. “We have tried many times to reach out, but it appears the emperor is past mere words.” 

 “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, my queen.” He kissed her head tenderly as he stood back up. “I must ready the soldiers at once...we mustn't delay.”

 “Kyros…”

 “Hmmm?”

 “I don’t want to bring a child into this.”

 “Hestia....we talked about this. A child isn’t necessary for us, you know that. The fact that either of us exists is strange. Two phoenixes….Hestia we live forever. My grandfather had my father because he was bored. I have no grandmother or even a mother. They are probably long gone. My father had me because he wanted a child, yes...but he didn’t want to rule anymore.”

 “I know I know Kyros it’s just...it’s always on my mind.” Queen Hestia sighs sadly. “Ophelia told me that she and Zacharias have thought about it. They are gonna try one day.”

 “Hestia...we are the only phoenixes on the entire planet. I fell so madly in love with you, you are the most perfect woman on this planet. We ourselves are a symbol of love, a child just...Hestia we don’t need to.”

 “......” Queen Hestia stood from her throne, looking away from him. “Very well my king...I have a meeting to attend to.”

 “Hestia-”

 “You have an army to prepare Kyros.” She states coldly. “I will see you at dinner.�� 

 The king let out a frustrated sigh as she walked away. The hurt in her voice broke his heart. He quickly set out to prepare. This was a conversation that he knew would just continue another day. For now, he set about preparing for a bloody war that would last for the next 30 years.

♛

 “Welcome to Kastria, Your Majesty.”

 Queen Hestia tore away from her thoughts as the emperor and empress sat before her. Queen Hestia gestured for the guards to bring forth her gifts. New medicines, herbs, flowers, and different books for education. 

 “It is always a pleasure to see you both Your Imperial Majesties.” A noise at the base of the thrones drove queen Hestia’s gaze downward. Like Dragleic, the kingdom of Kastria’s residents were also in the company of large companions. A lion and his lioness were nestled at the feet of the emperor and empress. The large predators were making grunts at her and walked towards her. Queen Hestia smiled and knelt down as they brushed against her and licked her hands. Normally these magnificent beasts would be aggressive, but around their masters and people they trust, they were like kittens. Speaking of kittens, Rion and Lyna, the lion and lioness respectively, had four kittens playing under the thrones. 

 “It is always wonderful to have you here Your Majesty.” Empress Yvette smiled kindly as she adjusted herself in her seat. “We have your room prepared if you’d like to rest before we have our discussion.”

 “Yes please rest the journey here is quite long,” Emperor Klein says as he stands and walks toward her. “We can speak later into the evening after dinner.”

 “Thank you...I think I will rest for a bit.”

  “Tia!”

 Everyone looked to the far left door as a young boy ran into the throne room holding a fifth lion cub in his arms. His tousled blond hair suggested he just woke from his sleep. A few maids were chasing behind him frantically and out of breath. The young prince ran up to Hestia excitedly and she knelt and held her arms open to him. He jumped at her with a bit of force and she let out a small breath as she lifted him and the cub up. She adjusted them both as he giggled and held onto her tightly. 

  “Good morning Your Highness.”

  “Morning!”

 “Matteo...you mustn't run from your maids and you are still in your night clothes.” Emperor Klein sighs as he looks at his son. “Queen Hestia is tired from her journey, she has to rest my son.”

 “No! Tia has to play with me!” Matteo pouted adorably as he buried his face in her neck. Queen Hestia chuckled lightly as he held on tighter. 

 “It’s quite alright...I enjoy seeing the young prince.” Queen Hestia smiles as she sets the cub down. “It has been some time since I was last in Kastria.”

 “Yes but he needs to learn his manners.”

 “Klein let him be...he’s only three years old...let him be a child.” Queen Hestia and emperor Klein both look to the throne as Empress Yvette stands. Queen Hestia’s eyes widen as she takes in her appearance. The empress was pregnant again although it was small, her stomach was slightly protruding. “Besides it has been quite some time since he has seen her. If she wants to entertain him I don’t see the harm.”  

 “Oh! You...if I had known I would have brought more gifts.” Queen Hestia says as Matteo jumps from her arms to run to his mother. “Congratulations to you both.”

 “Thank you for your kind words but…” Emperor Klein looks at his wife apprehensively as she holds her stomach. “We haven’t let out an official announcement yet since…”

 “Since our past miscarriages..” Empress Yvette finishes sadly. “We just want to make sure and not get our peoples hopes up or our own.”

 “Yes of course I understand.” The royals of Kastria were very unfortunate in the child rearing area. The empress had two miscarriages before Matteo was born. She also suffered from terrible morning sickness, and was bedridden for months. Queen Hestia felt incredibly bad for Empress Yvette, she was lucky enough to have Althea without much issues. The world could be very unkind to those who have done no wrong. Queen Hestia said nothing further as she continued to converse with Emperor Klein. After being shown to her temporary bedroom, queen Hestia sighed deeply. She hated having to tell them about a potential threat after so many years of peace. With the empress pregnant, it made telling the news harder. Stressing her out could cause her to miscarry. It was a hard task, but regardless she had to do it. So after resting for a few hours and eating dinner, Queen Hestia joined the royals on a balcony overlooking their empire. Pulling her shawl around herself tighter, Queen Hestia sat beside the royal couple. Although the sun was setting, a few rays of sunlight were still beaming. Hestia reached a hand out and pulled the warm rays onto herself and the royal couple.

 “It is always amazing to see you do that.” Empress Yvette sighed as she enjoyed the last few minutes of heat the sun provided.

 “Yes it does have its uses.” Queen Hestia snapped her fingers and set alight candles that were sitting on the balcony. 

 “I’d imagine being a Phoenix is spectacular,” Emperor Klein chuckled as he pulled his wife close. “Being able to soar in the clouds and make fire...it's all very extraordinary.”

 “I might take a morning flight before I head back home.” She smiled at the couple as the emperor rubbed his wife’s stomach. “Kastria is very quiet...I’m surprised by that.”

 “Everyone is preparing for a storm. The cats are restless so we are taking precautions.”

 “If we can help with anything please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Of course thank you….” The three of them sat in comfortable silence watching as torches lit up on the empire’s streets. People were still walking about and laughing with neighbors. Children chased after cubs and more big cats lounged in trees.

 “Hestia...what’s wrong?”

 Queen Hestia blinked out of her thoughts as she looked at Empress Yvette. Hearing the worry in her voice made her uneasy. She looked at emperor Klein and they both looked worried.

 “We heard of the attack at the tournament...we never got much details of what happened. I feel as though you have something terrible to speak with us about.”

 “Is Melodia in danger? Are we in danger?” Emperor Klein’s demeanor changed as he frowned.

 “I do have news to speak of. I just don’t wish to put stress upon you Yvette. I would hate if the issues in my kingdom cause...something unfortunate.”

 “We appreciate your concern up Hestia,” Empress Yvette smiled and relaxed into her chair. “Honestly I always feel a bit of stress, especially with a storm coming soon. If your news is worrying your kingdom then it will also be the concern of ours.”

 “If you and Kyros need assistance of any kind then we shall back you up. Your family is more than just our allies, you are trusted friends.”

 Queen Hestia sighed deeply as she looked at her dear friends. In her heart she hoped that maybe the threat was dealt with when the creature was slain, but that was just a foolish thought. Her visions proved otherwise...her vision showed a greater threat to her family and kingdom. If it wasn’t stopped then it would be the end for them all.

 “At our tournament...it was infiltrated and attacked by a single man. He looked sickly and weak, but he had somehow made it quite far into the tournament. One of the knights fighting him drew his blood, and that was when he transformed into a grotesque creature. It killed many of our soldiers and almost...it….it almost killed Althea. I was leaving the arena with her and Ophelia and the children, and it killed the knight traveling with her.”

 “Oh Hestia! I am so glad she is alright now.” Yvette held a hand over her heart as she leaned back. She placed her hand on her stomach and Klein put his hand over hers. 

 “How did you kill this creature?” Klein asked with clenched teeth. His grip had tightened on his wife’s hand as she patted his to calm him down.

 “I killed it…” Hestia held out her palm, a small fire formed in the center. Klein and Yvette could feel the intense heat as she compressed it. “I set it alight with the hottest flame I could muster. I was so afraid that Althea had been killed that I charged right for it.”

 “So they can be killed with flames…” Klein stood and paced around the balcony. “Do you believe that there are other means to battle this creature?”

 “I think so...I’m positive that it can be killed in other ways. Its blood soaked appearance when it reached us told me enough. It was also quite sluggish.” Yvette sighed and sipped her water and her lioness Lyna slinked up with a cub in her powerful jaws. Matteo was holding her tail and rubbing his eyes. 

 “Matteo…” Klein sighed as he lifted his son into his arms. “You are a terror to put to sleep son.”

 Yvette and Hestia smiled and laughed at the young prince. Especially when he tried to fight his growing sleepiness. He played with Lyna and her cub and Yvette patted his unruly hair as he giggled and laughed. “I wish to apologize again for bringing such awful news to you both…”

 “You’ve warned us about an incredible danger...I know you were worried about informing me, but I will be fine and I’ll be better when we have properly prepared ourselves.” Yvette looked over the empire as the people started to retire for the night. Hestia smiled as Matteo climbed into her lap and immediately fell asleep, she ran her fingers through his hair as he drifted off. “Klein I wish to speak with Hestia alone for a bit, we can put Matteo to bed.”

 “Are you sure? I’d rather you get some sleep…” Yvette smiled and laughed at his worry.

 “I will join you in our bed soon my lion…” The couple exchanged a few more words before they kissed and Klein left. Hestia stood and carefully handled Matteo as she walked the halls with Yvette. 

 “There is something else that is bothering you…” Hestia looked at Yvette with a frown. “You seem a bit distracted. You’re worried about what is going to happen aren’t you.”

 “Yes I...if what happened at the tournament can be avoided...then I wish to make sure that we are prepared. I also want that for our friends.” Hestia shook her head as she laid Matteo down on his bed. Turning toward Yvette, Hestia rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry for the sudden news. I would hope that next we meet I’ll have better news.”

 “Regardless, Hestia...we appreciate your concern and I hope that we can stop this problem before it even begins.”

 “I do as well Yvette...I hope Kyros is having more luck with the empire in the east.” Yvette agreed as they left Matteo’s room to chat. Hestia grew a bit worried as she thought about her husband. Their allies to the east were closed off and rarely communicated with them. They were a mystery to the other allied kingdoms as well. They remained friendly enough, but their behavior was concerning. Nevertheless, Kyros and Hestia agreed that it was best to inform them of any approaching danger. Time would only tell how they would take the news.

♛

 King Kyros tapped his chin while he looked outside his carriage window. The palace was a mighty sight to behold. The curved roofs and tall towers soared high in the air. Red trees were sprinkled all throughout the roads. The people stopped and stared as they gazed upon his carriage. King Kyros watched as blacksmith sold their wares and others pulled heavy carts along the road. As the carriage pulled up to the palace, Kyros narrowed his eyes a bit as an entire guard was lined up to see him. Letting out a breath, Kyros stepped down from the carriage with slow movements.

 “Welcome to the Chowa Empire, King Kyros. I am General Honghui. I will escort you to meet our leader.” 

 “It is a pleasure to meet you General. I look forward to meeting and speaking with the leader of your land.” The general looked at the king with a calculated gaze before he led him into the palace. King Kyros took the time to notice a distinct feature about the inhabitants. Each person had the ears and tail of an animal species. The general seemed to have the features of a tiger and most of the guards had dog and cat features. He smiled to himself as he thought of all the mysteries that the world of Edrion held even still. Walking into a large circular room, Kyros was greeted with a woman with dark brown hair tied up immaculately, and a sword by her side. She gripped it tightly as she narrowed her eyes at him, her tiger striped ears and tail twitched at his movements. The guards took their places around the room and Kyros had his gifts brought in.  King Kyros looked around looking for the emperor that he had exchanged many letters with, but only laid eyes on the woman.

 “Greetings King Kyros...are you looking for the emperor? You will not find one, because I am the one you have been speaking with. I am the empress of Chowa.”

 “Oh? This is a turn of events...my apologies Your Imperial Majesty. I would have hoped during our alliance that we formed some sort of trust between each other. I have brought gifts and medicine from my kingdom. My wife apologizes for not being able to come to meet you. She had prior business to attend to.”

 “......” She let out a sigh before she turned and walked toward a door behind the throne. “We can speak in here, King Kyros.”  Frowning a bit, he followed her as did the general. The trio entered a small but comfortable sitting room and the empress sat on a chair with the general by her side. Kyros sat across from her but eyed the sword she never seemed to relax her grip on. Clearing his throat, Kyros started the conversation.

 “Your Imperial Majesty, I have come to discuss a grave issue with you. It could possibly impact your empire as well.”

 He didn’t miss the agitated twitch of her tail as her eyes narrowed. “Oh? You could have informed me about this in our letters. You didn’t need to come all the way here to the empire.”

 “Our communication has been scarce. You suddenly stopped communicating with us a few months back. A formal meeting between us has needed to happen for some time. We can’t keep up good relations between each other if we can’t look into the other's eyes. It is the very foundation to be able to look upon each other and build trust.”

 “......” She remained silent as she looked him in the eyes. “You couldn’t possibly want to seek the aid from an empire run by a woman. I’m sure you don’t seek the counsel of your wife…”

 “Why wouldn’t I?” Kyros knew that she was trying to rile him up, but his temper was not so easy to flare. He could only wonder about her hostility though. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before they narrowed again. “I always seek the counsel of my wife. She gives me some of our greatest ideas. My wife and I rule together, not apart.”

 “.....” She scoffed and drank from a tea cup and she gestured for the general to pour one for king Kyros. Drinking from the cup, he felt that he had to get to the bottom of this.

 “Might I ask why you have been so hostile? I only wish to continue our alliance and speak with you about grave matters. You have not stopped glaring and gripping your sword since we sat down.”

 “I have not been hostile.” Her tail flickered behind her, telling Kyros that he was right. “I grow tired of men telling me how I’m feeling.”

 “I mean no disrespect. I just want to break the tension.”

 “I highly doubt that you-“ The doors behind them suddenly opened and the empress's face grew pale. Kyros stood as a pretty woman with the ears and tail of a red panda stood with a guitar in hand. She looked around the room in surprise and Kyros took the chance to greet her.

 “Hello. I am King Kyros of Melodia. It is lovely to make your acquaintance.”

 “Hello Your Majesty...I..I um...”

 “Liling! What are you doing here?!” Kyros looked at the empress with a raised brow as her hair stood on end. The other woman looked down at the ground as she gripped her guitar tight. Kyros watched the scene carefully as the empress sighed gently before moving towards the woman known as Liling. He watched as the empress whispered soft words of reassurance to her. Her features softened in the presence of Liling and it told him quite the story. The general took notice of King Kyros’s stare and cleared his throat and the woman parted quickly.

 “I think I can see why you have been withdraw from my letters and meetings with my kingdom in person. Traveling with her would be quite the scandal and it would be frowned upon in other places. It would not however, be frowned upon in Melodia.”

 All three of the occupants looked at him in surprise, but the one who reacted quicker was Liling. With a happy bounce in her step, she crossed the room and stood in front of King Kyros. She looked up at him with eyes full of hope and wonder. 

 “Really? Is that true Your Majesty?”

 “Of course. We don’t discriminate about who one chooses to love and cherish. I would have been glad to inform the empress of this if she would have come to my kingdom.”

 “You could just be saying that to appease me and get on my good side. I will not let some foreign king I don’t have a relationship with try and trick me.” 

 “Shall we get to know each other then? Trust and friendship between allies should be forged through conversations and perhaps more tea?” Liling giggled into the sleeve of her gown, while the empress growled and sighed deeply. The general led them to an indoor garden where the empress sat across from them both. Liling quietly strummed her guitar as they were served more tea and snacks. Kyros did not miss the looks the servants gave toward the couple. The general glared at the servants and they scurried away quickly. 

“How about you tell us about what isn’t frowned about in your kingdom, Your Majesty?” The empress was not afraid to speak her mind. She was cautious and she had every right to be. The world could be especially cruel to royals, and having feelings for the opposite gender meant it could only be crueler. “I’m sure your council threw up quite a fuss about “things that are frowned on.”

 “Oh they did...over 200 years ago. My wife and I certainly didn’t let the topic just get brushed under the rug.” The sudden breaking of a guitar string had both royals looking at Liling. Her face flushed fiercely as she tried to fix her string.

 “So..the royal family of Melodia really is immortal. I suppose the same could be said about the ones in Dragleic?”

 “Haha yes. Rise from the ashes and all that. My friend Zacharias wishes that he could rise from the flames like I can. The residents of Dragleic live very long lives and I think their oldest resident might still have a spring in her step.”

 “I would love to visit the other kingdoms some day…” Liling looked at the empress with sad eyes. The empress sighed and patted her lover's hand as her ears drooped. 

 “You both would very much be welcomed in Melodia. My family has many balls and we invite many of our allied friends to come. We are having a gathering in a few weeks actually.”

 “Oh!” Liling looked at the empress with begging eyes and Kyros smiled as she crumbled under her lover’s gaze. “Xiaoli….”

 “I suppose that we can see about visiting…” King Kyros chuckled as Liling clapped her hands excitedly. The empress looked him over with a questioning gaze and furrowed her brows as she spoke to him.

 “I do have a question for you King Kyros…”

 “Yes?”

 “I believe you have a child...a daughter correct?”

 “I do have a daughter, yes….” He raised a brow and crossed his arms, he tensed up a bit when the topic turned to his daughter. “Why?”

 “I was just curious what you would do if she preferred the company of women? Would you push traditional values on her, even in your progressive kingdom?”

 “......” King Kyros silently stared at the empress and realized her little game immediately. She was testing not only his role as a parent, but one as a ruler. One who assured her of something that she was sure he lied about. Empress Xiaoli was a force indeed. “My wife and I would gladly accept whoever our daughter brings into her heart, but I will not deny that some would prefer her to marry a man. To continue the line of succession.”

“If she doesn’t want it? What then? I can’t see the point in a family of phoenixes needing to reproduce…”

“Heh...I told my wife that many years ago, but my daughter has brought such light into our long lives that I wish she had convinced me sooner. As our only heir, she has no choice in the matter unfortunately. She has a duty to her people and she has known this for years, if she was interested in only women, then we would do what we need to make sure she is happy. Believe me when I say that my wife and I always consider what is best for our daughter over everything else.”

“Hmm…” The empress chuckled as she sipped her tea and crossed her legs. “I think I like you Your Majesty. Now then...why don’t we get to the root of this meeting shall we?”

♛

“So...the empress has taken your word on the matter?”

“With much scepticism she did. I believe that she was very wary of me. Her lover Liling took to me quite well though. She was vastly interested in stories about our kingdom and Dragleic. I think you two would get along well my queen.”

“I think we would as well. I think I should start planning for another ball soon.” Queen Hestia smiled as King Kyros kissed her hand as they walked through the palace. The queen had arrived back home a few days before he did, and he was more than happy to come back into her embrace. It also gave him time to relax and destress. The last few weeks had been especially tough, but he didn’t want to worry her or Althea.

“We deserve it with everything that has happened.” Queen Hestia gripped his arm tight and he stopped walking to look at her. “What’s wrong my love?”

“I just worry about Althea. I wonder if she’s really happy….ever since I told her about her fiance and then all that has transpired over the past few weeks. I just worry that she might be a bit depressed-”

“Mother! Father!” The royal couple turned as their daughter ran down the hall with her knights following closely behind her. Althea stopped in front of her parents trying to catch her breath. “I...I heard that you were back, Father! I wanted to greet you but I was wrapped up in other matters!”

“Really now? Does it have anything to do with the flour on your face?” Althea blushed as her mother wiped her cheek. “You were in the kitchens?”

“I um...well maybe. It’s a surprise!” She giggled and her mother visibly relaxed and Kyros rubbed her back as they watched her smile and laugh. She turned to her knights and their playful banter warmed the queen’s heart. It seemed that she didn’t have much to worry about in regards to her daughter’s happiness. The couple only hoped they could preserve her innocence for a bit longer, and that this growing threat would only be a distant memory.

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

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#King Kyros #Queen Hestia #Emperor Klein #Empress Yvette #Prince Matteo #Empress Xiaoli #Liling #Althea #royals #other kingdoms #big cats and beast people #chinese inspired #writing #my writing

[zoequeenz]

Plain Sight (Part 3)

A/N: okay okay biggest sorry ever for not posting last month. Started a new position at my job and then had to deal with some miscommunication that made me believe I was gonna lose that position. Thought I had COVID twice (no matter how safe you are you are always in danger) and that threw me through a loop. Then I started college and that was a whole crazy thing, so my August was anxiety filled and very demanding. So sorry, so I will be posting twice this month to finish this part.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

We had Detective Martin round up all the other officers to listen to our profile. They all sat, ready with their pens and paper as Gideon began to talk.

“The Unsub brought his weapons with him. Tape, glue, wire. He did not leave them at the scene. He took them when he left. He has a kind of killing kit that he carries.” Gideon informs.

“Organized killers usually have a skilled job, likely technology related, which may involve the use of the hands. The crime scenes are far enough apart that he needs a vehicle. This will be well kept, obsessively clean, as will be his home. He’s diurnal, the attacks occurred during the day, so the vehicle may be related to his work, possibly a company car or truck.” Hotch continues.

“We believe he watches the victims for a time, learns the rhythm of the home, knows his time frame.” Derek adds on.

“You’re not gonna catch him accidentally.” Hotch says.

“He destroys symbols of wealth in the victims’ homes. He harbors envy of and hatred toward people of a higher social class.” Gideon says, walking towards the murder board.

“He feels invisible around them.”

“Class is the theme of the poem which he left at the various crime scenes. At one point in the poem, the woman attempts to bribe death, but he doesn’t accept it. He says this is the one moment when riches mean nothing. When death comes, the poor and the rich are exactly alike.” Spencer explains.

“So he’s poor.” A Detective asks.

“Probably middle class.” I answer.

“A decidedly lower class person would stick out in a highly patrolled neighborhood. This guy appears to belong there. He blends in.” Hotch elaborates.

“Why does he glue the eyes open?” Detective Martin asks.

“The Unsub is an exploitative rapist. Most rape victims close their eyes during the attack, turn their heads. For some rapists, this ruins the fantasy. For this type of rapist, the goal is more related to the victim watching him than the act itself.” Elle explains.

“He wants them to see him, he is often overlooked. The open eyes give him that satisfaction.” I add.

“The verses the staging, the aggressive language, “I am Death,” this is a guy who, while being in control at the crime scene, almost certainly feels inadequate in the rest of his life.” Hotch explains.

“That’s why he couldn’t wait for you to figure out what he’d done, why he needed to make sure all of his crimes were counted. His victims, they represent whatever it is that’s controlling him, and he wants that control back. He is under the thumb of a powerful woman who frightens him. And a final point. He is white.” Gideon clarifies.

“We have witnesses that identify him as a black male.” The same Detective argues.

“The attacker was black. He is not the Tommy Killer.” Gideon tells him.

“Mrs.Gordon’s husband came home at the same time that he always does. The Tommy Killer would’ve known that.” Hotch adds.

“And Mrs.Gordon’s attacker wore a ski mask. The Unsub knows when he walks into a house, he’s going to kill the woman who lives there. If you’re not leaving any witnesses, why wear a ski mask?” Elle asks rhetorically.

“And he wants the victim to see him anyway.” Derek adds.

“The attempted rapist is a garden variety disorganized young man.” Hotch explains.

“As the victim’s age goes up, generally, the attacker’s age goes down. Mrs.Gordon is about 60, which puts her rapist at about 20.” Elle informs.

“And it takes years to develop the level of calm and sophistication that Tommy displays at a crime scene, and the rapist is far too young for that.” Gideon says.

“Mrs.Gordon told me that there’s a young man who delivers groceries to their home. He fits a lot of what we’re describing here.” Elle adds.

“Great. So we’re back to zero on Tommy.” The Detective sighs.

“Not at all.” Hotch objects.

“May I see you in your office for a moment?”

They walk off.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

We had located Marcia’s rapist. Elle, Derek, and I were sent to go arrest him. He was walking back to get something from one of the trucks when Elle and I turned the corner.

“FBI. You’re under arrest.” Elle states, he then tries to run for it but Derek already knew he was gonna run and cut him off.

“You’re under arrest for the attempted rape of Marcia Gordon.” Derek tells him.

“What?!” He questions.

Though this was our rapist, he wasn’t out Tommy but this was the only way we were gonna get Tommy to contact us. We pull up as JJ is giving a press conference, just as planned. Morgan pulls him out while Elle and I follow through the crowd of reporters to get into the police station. Hotch meets us as we walk in and Elle tells him that he had already confessed. Our plan was moving accordingly. One bad guy off the street and so close to the other. We just had to wait. We were just waiting at this point. I was sitting across from Spencer and next to Derek, who had just angryily slammed his phone down.

“Chill, Derek. He will call.” I say calmly.

“I know Little One.” He sighs leaning back.

I knew better than to talk to him, and chose to listen to Elle and Spencer.

“God, I hate waiting like this.” She said.

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He asks playing with a Rubix Cube.

“I don’t know how it is that you know half the things you know, but I’m glad you do.” She answers.

“Do you think it’s why I can’t get a date?” He asks again and my heart pangs. If only he knew how many women would kill to be with him.

“You ever ask anyone out?” She asks back.

“No.” He replies.

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” She says simply.

“I’m sure there is someone waiting for you to ask them anyway…”she winks.

What does she mean by that. Her? Does Elle like Spencer. No no no, Percy. She does not. Maybe she means JJ. God it is definitely JJ. I mean, they were totally flirting and he was checking her out at his birthday thing and ugh-

The phone rings.

“Detective Martin. Hey,hey” he says grabbing our attention.

“Line 6, Penelope. Line 6.” JJ says.

“You stupid incompetent sons of bitches! I don’t make mistakes! I am Death! You hear me?! I AM DEATH! You’ll see now. Tomorrow. Mark my words, you will see. And while I am taking her, I’m gonna be thinking of you.” Tommy shouts.

JJ asks Penny if she got anything, but sadly she got nothing. Confusion was all around. How could we miss him. We all sigh in defeat. My nerves begin to rise. He was so aggressive and his threat was so terrifying. I couldn’t breathe, luckily Spencer was there. I couldn’t really register it but I knew his hand was in mine. I breathe in and out for a bit, look at Spencer and I am okay.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a very restless night for everyone. Elle and I could barely sleep so we occupied ourselves by watching whatever shitty movie was on the TV. I eventually got an hour or two of shut eye but it was all I really needed.

“We have an undercover car for each of your teams, and the entire damn department out there, too.” The Chief said.

“Remember a truck. Maybe a work truck, in excellent condition.” Gideon says.

“Everyone knows.” The Chief says.

“All right, he might make a mistake today. He’s angry, and he probably hasn’t done the kind of surveillance he’d like.” Hotch informs us. We all nod.

“Yeah, well, neither have we.” Derek adds coming up next to Spencer and I.

“Let’s go Reid, Chase.” We follow him out.

Derek drives us to our lookout spot. It was mostly quiet and I was two seconds away from sleep. I thought those couple hours were enough but the warm air and the birds singing was lulling me to sleep. At least until Derek sighs.

“It’s 10:30 already.” He says.

“All he said was tomorrow. He didn’t specify morning.” Spencer says.

“For all we know, he could strike later in the day.” I add.

“This guy’s gotta spend a lot of time in that house. A lot. He needs it to be morning.” Derek says. Spencer looks around.

“Are we sure this is a good spot?” He asks.

“Three of the victims lived within a block of this street. It’s the main artery through the neighborhood.” Derek answers.

“True, but three victims in the same block could mean he’s done with the area.” Spencer suggests.

“Or that he’s just really familiar with it.” Derek charges back.

“And comfortable in it.” Spencer adds.

“But then, on the other hand, the other victims lived more than a mile in either direction.” Derek continues.

“Right.” Spencer says.

“God,” Derek says, hitting the wheel.

“I hate not having a plan. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack here.”

“Spencer would argue a needle in a pile of needles.” I say, Spencer looks back and smiles at me. I know him so well.

“What?” Derek asks.

“A needle would stand out in a haystack.” Spencer explains making Derek laugh.

“And we’re not looking for someone who stands out?” Derek starts.

“No. We’re looking for a particular needle in a pile of needles.” Spencer further explains grabbing his binoculars.

Derek looks back at me smirking. I roll my eyes and feel my face heat up. I punch him in the arm, lightly of course, as a way to tell him to shut it. He just laughs. I rest my head on Spencer’s seat causing him to look back and smile at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his face. He did his little smile and went back to looking out. It may very well be a long day but I was with my favorite boys so it didn’t matter.

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TAGLIST

@thesailbells​

#criminal minds #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid series

[samaelserpentine]

An Odyssey Through Music, Muses, Madness and Magic

(Buckle up Tumblr, this is a long poem) 1. The isle guardians of vinyl Unwittingly nervous to the necromancy I have planned An inner storm so terrible But I was Struck by his Occult missive So laden down was I By all the lyrics, the words With characters told through dark supergods As Aleister Crowley is to Led Zeppelin is to David Bowie And now me Lost among them Buried within them The pages of ancient texts And the liner notes of the albums Held far too close to the heart Though I tried, perhaps I merely formed mystery at my own doom The records of the sorcerers Performing an infernal scratching on my psyche Breaking down what was there and carving out what could be But whether it should be Is still uncertain to me. 2. I found the darkness in riffs The wall of sound I was into Inhabited by self-admitted aliens Aleister’s hellfire brought to light My heavy work held up The symbolizing of some god Archaic and forgotten Through a ring Art cracks All the people that stare loveless Into your eyes But I would be different I would be realized Something broken Mended Yet still wrong But I would Make myself into something else With your words The fascination told fables A way out, a way through I would find my way to you Through the cracks. 3. Once artwork I became their voice Lurking in the shadows of time On the periphery Of reason Madness could be a thrilling companion And with the records transcendent And the races lost The shout rang out Are You Experienced? I am and am not Like an abysmal and sunken ship Lost in the depths of the ocean Alone and devoid of meaning Abandoned everything to Grooves, characters, truths And once there inhabiting these my psyche Broke open spilling out visions, words Like arcane knowledge Dancing carelessly over the line Between the sacred and profane Whispering it’s so nice to see you here again And my mind became a bookshelf filled with ancient wisdom A record player Playing albums that told lies like they were the truth I uncovered the Necronomicon Had lives in Atlantis Sat with the sound and vision Of a populated landscape Woven through history Like a single thread Linking everything I became a fixture Fantastic Within the hidden music of a paperback I would not be forgotten there. 4. Of those who sought And those who chose A wriggle of religious fanaticism in claim And its origins an apparent expression of salvation I say You are nothing and have nothing for me With your hierarchy and worry over the threat Of music and sexuality And your constant waging of war against me When mine and yours is a history of burning I have nothing to give you You’ve already taken too much from me I want what was mine back With your wicked face as old as These chords I worship And your evil work to further ministers As meaningful to me as a rotten turnip Yet of my conjuring powers You disbelieve When honey, you should fear me And not the other way around I hope that when you are most afraid You say my name. 5. Mobs make parents worried They claim the rock audience chaos Is just hormonal fury A response to what is true Inside of both me and you There is more than this A kind of magic If you look for it Religious In the way we turn musicians Into gods and goddesses Idol worship But is that all it is? In the truest sense An ancient rite Long buried and forgotten Rising up inside us all Those who dare to dance And by prohibiting and demonizing The ones who shake their fists Lose their sense Always the sound of agitation But I saw these pagan spirits first Before I heard your protesting words Theirs speak louder to me Than your hatred ever could. 6. To the electric teenager Finding your way Rebellion is autonomy It is tradition To push boundaries Yet each new generation of adults Somehow forgets these Eternal truths It's not your fault They're afraid of your youth Don't listen Hold on Your fire will make the world a better place For you. 7. Could this ancient thread Of reality and magic infused with dangerous potential Normally inhabited by far greater Magicians than I could ever be Break me? I am traversing this rough terrain Of shared perception With aliens These common visions a violence What could I even be? Nothing more than a mystery To those around me Lost in this metaverse I have accessed Through song, collage, words Chaotic, such occult meanings They and often I End in something Beyond reason Scratching out messages of methods The angels referenced spoken vast by terrifying qualities These opposing sorcerers Like a guitar screeching endless feedback Which demons? Sex? Drugs? Words? Palpable as suggesting a penultimate hidden secret Impenetrable beyond nothingness and Nonetheless I must find it Even if I have to destroy myself trying Nothing is more important Than this truth. 8. Years go by and I come about left handed Shaped by a tarot card about the arts and earlier The room Space Death I know spirituality I see it in my brother’s eyes Only the inner outer world collides But of the Beatles or beetles They didn’t understand How To make the world bend at your command Of this phenomenon devotees are Reckless Breathtaking in their beauty And chaos It takes a certain kind of madness Or perhaps maybe genius To choose this path To withstand the pressure Of reality kneeling At your feet Bending to your will I will break it before it breaks me Oh brother, don’t you worry I always find my way out of the darkness And besides, hell has never bothered me I am the master of my own design The maker of my own making Nothing else can touch me. 9. Imagination turns listeners into participants Gives power to the powerless Those converted shaped by few ideas Dreams Had rock’s Hare Krishna LSD Asking questions Whose inner world could I be? And as it moves, a cultural generation Becomes magical More magical than entire rock bands Than holy men and women Fashioned by the young The carbon copy progressives Lying like Houses Already vast Led by the words of the Bhagavad Gita You should have listened to me When I had the cards already free I tried to warn you what was coming But no one ever hears me Invisible as I am Until so repulsive, so strange You can’t look away from me You really should have listened You can't say I didn't try to warn you. 10. This is bigger than I am Stretched too thin like skin Over bone was and into The board, into the planchette Could enchantment make me forget? The board is vibrating Shaking like hands The grazing of sleeves Culture, vinyl Seemed out from under our covers Like what was hidden There, even tucked away those records Though of nothing gatefold came No reason to be afraid Other than the fingers that have become potent The light that has now dimmed And what could I have been To all who pulled that woven magic Out of my childhood? Could it be the way was manifest Curled up snugly against your breast? As warm candlelight over the Ouija Plastic memories came From which I had imagined the feelings like air between Bewitched but hovered from Somewhere above our heads I wished that I was dead Or that something would end. 11. Experiences divorced from reality Covers rock personas Cut out images appear worse But Dionysus would love this His child Who has people staged Like personal shamanic relics Thinking writing something mystical That I would seek this That I sought this Is surely a form of madness But all the logical illogical reasoning shows A kind of rare dedication to the cause These rites are magical Why speak of demons And why speak of devils? I have conjured and created Something new out of the ancient Like nails Scratching deep grooves into a record album I have altered something Broken it As their gods create chaos simulating insanity As if they even have to in me I am the false image of a human performed By a front magician Playing at being god In these moments of desperation Carrying the weight of lives As though my power were absolute My belief almost religious Fanatical My concerns become concerts When I am on my own Wondering why happiness has abandoned me And where all the merrymakers have gone Why I am more Anubis than Pan Why myth seems written in lyrics As musicians play me like a fiddle Play me for a fool I am possessed Into thinking I am appearing as many legends Something older than time itself A life bringer A life destroyer With the power to stop or start it all I needed to believe I had the power To save all of you To destroy all of you To protect myself If I needed to And I don’t know if I can save myself From the things I want to do As the darkness envelops me And my mind becomes unglued So go ahead and do what you always do And blame it on the music When we all know the truth It’s always been you. 12. Rumination is realization I wandered alone Within the elements and to God Unintelligible Words became strange as Rogue faeries genuine Approach looking wing Impenetrable as I have become What I’d produced went away from me Flew out of my control Reborn in catastrophe When where into situations I went From film to film I sense in time a song Things start about a room and again Became revolt But maybe that’s just what happens when you’re Involving the occult Bring out the old rock n roll safeguard Make it out of symbols and sigils A complete thought catalogue so arcane It would leave you spellbound for days My mind prison And that in myself some Christ was born A thought so seductive to be sure I would take control of these pursuits But unlike you Hatred would never do I would never fight against passion Your fear I came to hear Against spaceships, rituals, the mystical, Sex, magic Your terror So absolutely Psychological I felt protection close at hand And I was real myself, as I really am In and out of my depth Battling against you and your demands I came out cleaner Stronger And what became of you? Shhh, no telling I won’t spoil the ending No good to warn the enemy Of what is coming But You really should have been listening You should have been watching What was happening. 13. He said, you should have started with Kether Been sure of the path you were following After all Magic, like blood, stains But these moments were wonders They could drive out the fear of fortune, destiny Hanging over my head I was taking control Creating my own instead As thin as the thread that links us all Tenuous, fragile Like a mind on the verge of breaking Under the weight of a cruel reality The walls would speak to me Whispering When will you come to me From here or there And find me in a room High above the clouds Where we could build our love? It’s not enough It’s a drug And I need it As lovers we were And I, such as the mountains Looming, shy Unable to look you in the eye But here is the stuff of legend Sound soars like a movement Lost to the ages I never thought myself better than this moment Lost as I once was Now flashing light and colour Connected to everything Raising you like the devils they spoke of Dancing my way to Malkuth A fearless necromancer Disregarding all the rules. 14. I am the sun I am the ocean I am the mountains and the streams I am the demon who would be with you In all your wildest dreams Where men circle around you Desperate to keep you You land like sand flowing through my hand I did not try to hold onto you So you let me keep the thread Through this glass I was searching Broken as the cracks But now I am returning Now I am mending And once you were evasive Elusive Like a high I was chasing Or the first drink, the tenth, or the last But now I find you woven into everything Believing we were thrown together like darts Bending like space and time I was searching for this Searching for you In desolate stations We would be protected Dredging the world to a ditch Just to find you Just to become more than this You are a wonder Among wondrous things And I am bird Who has found his wings Overlooking humanity From up on high I have found me in you This time And of all the things they can take from me That will never be one of them For I am the sun I am the ocean I am the mountains and the streams I am the demon who would be with you In all your wildest dreams But above all else What is more I have found peace Dancing in the flames of this madness They tried to call a disease I am me I am me I am me.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #my poem #dadaism #beat poetry #writers on tumblr #writersociety #poetry is magic #my writing #long poetry

[myluciferiscody]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever P.3

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,649

warnings: language, torture, kidnapping, abuse, mentions of death/blood, canon(?) not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by Ben Platt’s song*

part 1 part 2 part 4

Xavier had asked you to stay behind while he went with Montana. You didn’t think anything of it when she said, ‘we’re supposed to be having fun.’ If anything, you figured it meant scaring off whoever decided to explore the grounds and whatnot. You sat back down, finishing off the rest of your water in peace. Your tears finally managed to subside. 

It was nice to finally have a moment to yourself; you needed to calm down and reason for a second. The sunlight outside told you it was nearing seven PM. You lounged around, fearing the inevitable moment when you’d have to leave. 

Xavier was stuck here, something you just couldn’t seem to shake.  There had to be some sort of loophole, something that could save him, right? You laid there as the time slowly ticked by, your mind going to Xavier, your work shift tomorrow, the apartment he hasn’t stepped foot in for over a year- 

You heard footsteps slowly approach you. You tensed up, sitting up and glancing behind you to find you were alone. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, it’s not surprising after the day you’ve had. You started to settle back in your seat, until a firm hand was placed over your mouth, another arm wrapping around your torso and yanking you up. 

A few screams managed to bubble in your chest, all muffled by the hand. You heard a deep, almost husky chuckle in your ear. 

“Do you take Satan as your lord and savior?” he grumbled to you, his hand leaving your mouth to hear your answer, or so you thought. 

“W-what?”

He never answered. Instead, you felt a tremendous pain on the back of your head before you blacked out for a second time. 

-

Montana watched as blood gushed from the neck of the poor souls who decided to trek into their territory. The looks of fear on their faces slowly diminished as the life drained out of them. Ray watched from a slight distance, disgusted at what his friend- or former friend, has become. Chet was nowhere to be found, and Xavier just stood there, a smirk on his face as Montana stood up, a bloody dagger in her hand. 

“Are you done?” Ray asked them both, crossing his arms over his chest. Montana gave the female a kick in the leg, and when there was no response, her grin got bigger.

“For now, until the next one comes along,” she laughed. Xavier, who was usually pretty into this, only smiled. He could only think of you in the cabin, waiting for him to return. Montana didn’t seem to notice her partner in crime’s mind was elsewhere and went to wrap her arm around him.  

“This is wrong, these people had a family!” Ray said. 

Montana scoffed, “Yeah, so did the kid you murdered a few years ago, you ever tell them where his body was?” She smirked, realizing immediately she struck a nerve. 

Ray was desperately resisting the urge to lunge at her, but other things stopped him. First, he never hit a woman. Second, Chet placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

 "Are we done here?“ Xavier asked impatiently.

 "What, have a hot date with y/n?” Montana teased, a look of hurt briefly flashing in her eyes before it disappeared.

 "She’s been by herself long enough, I want to see her,“ Xavier said, shaking her arm from his shoulder. The other three watched him jog off to the cabins, not bothering to give them, or the dead bodies a second glance. 

"Man, he is whipped!” Chet laughed. Ray smiled, and they high-fived, mumbling obscene things under their breath. 

“It’s nice to see you two made up!” Montana said, her voice genuine.

 "We’re dead, and there was nothing else to do,“ Chet shrugged, "Plus, I’d rather spend my energy pissed at that bitch Margaret than any of you," 

Xavier had a bad feeling as he approached the cabin you were left in. There was nothing abnormal on the outside, everything looked just as they left it. When he slowly climbed the stairs, that’s when it hit him. 

ghostly intuition

Xavier slowly pushed open the door and peeked his head inside. It was empty. 

Xavier stepped in fully, frantically looking around, hoping you were being playful and just decided to hide. He looked under the empty cots, the dusty curtains, only to come up with nothing. He was scared, he knew you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

"Y/N!” he called, now running down the steps. The others had already started making their way back, pausing their laughter at the sound of his frantic voice. 

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Ray asked, noting Xavier’s blue eyes were glossy.

“I-I can’t find y/n,” he admitted, his lower lip trembling. 

“I’m sure she is just exploring, she couldn’t have gotten far,” Chet said. He wasn’t always the best at comforting people, but he tried his best. 

“Chet’s right, we’ll look for her,” Montana said, her eyes attempting to find Xavier’s, but he wouldn’t look at her. She was irritated at your arrival, any plan of fucking Xavier out the window as long as you were around. He said you were just friends, but she knew better. Now that Richard left her, she needed a good dick down. 

They all took turns calling your name, Chet having to be corrected a few times. Their efforts seemed futile as the setting sun wasn’t helping the search, they had flashlights somewhere, but Xavier didn’t want to waste more time. 

-

You came to with a pounding headache. Your body instinctively went to stretch but found your legs and arms were both bound. Your eyes flew open, observing your surroundings; you were in a dark room, tied up, and it was sweltering. You went to speak but found there was tape over your mouth. 

Xavier, help me!

A dark chuckle startled you out of your wits. A shadowy figure slowly stood up; you could tell he was probably wearing a jacket based on his form. He approached your bed in just a few steps, and the man tilted his head at you as a lamp seemed to magically turn on next to you. 

“You never answered my question, precious,” he sneered. Had he not kidnapped you, you would probably find him rather attractive. He had dark hair that fell over his face and intimidating brown eyes. “I guess it’s kind of hard when you’re bound and gagged." 

Your body was shaking with tremors as you attempted to yank your arms from their confines. You knew there was no use; this guy had to be experienced, just by glancing at the knots keeping your feet tethered to the bed. 

"I don’t usually do this here, I like finding my victims in more intimate places,” he sighed, bringing a hand to your cheek. You flinched away from him, your head only moving so far. “Like their beds, or the bathrooms in their house, that kind of thing.” You didn’t make a noise.

“And then I saw you, y/n, and I realized the best ones aren’t always vulnerable in their own space,” your eyes were prickling with tears, quite a few spilling out now that your body had a proper water supply. “Satan told me to go after you, and he has never steered me wrong before,”

The man standing in front of you suddenly ripped the tape from your mouth. You yelled in pain as some of the dead skin came off with it, your mouth chapping earlier in the day. He mocked your cries, bunching the tape in his hands before tossing it somewhere in the room. 

“I like to keep count, you know?” he laughed at your distress. “After I’m done with you, you’ll be the fifteenth victim of the Night Stalker!”

Your eyes widened, realizing who he was. You heard about him in the news; all of the terror he caused Los Angeles and then San Francisco. Innocent women brutally murdered and raped, then left for their loved ones to find. You knew life didn’t always go the way you planned, and you surely didn’t expect to be at the hands of Richard Ramirez. 

Out of all the things to say, you questioned, “How do you know my name?”

Richard rolled his eyes, a habit he picked up from Montana Duke. “I was here the night shit down with Mr. Jingles,” he laughed at the look on your face. “I saw your friend, Xavier, kick the bucket. It was fun to watch, the way the light just drained from his eyes!” he said, figuring mental torture would be best to start with. “One might say he died a hero’s death, trying to save that bible thumper, Margaret,”

This is the last thing you wanted to hear. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that if you did it hard enough, your ears would block out his voice. Richard knew what you were doing and was not having it. He raised a fist and brought it down on your nose, the sickening crack filling the room and making you howl. The smell and feel of blood trickling down your chin and onto your shirt were unmistakable. 

“XAVIER!” you screamed, which only made Richard cackle at your expense. 

“Nobody is coming to save you, precious!” he said, kneeling down, raising his voice. “Especially not Xavier, he isn’t as innocent as you think he is,” he said, clamping a hand over your mouth. He liked hearing his victims cry in pain, but Richard wasn’t sure they wouldn't hear you. He wanted to be confident in his work. 

“After I kill you-” Richard said, now climbing over your body as you wrestled against him. For being bound, he was almost impressed at your drive to knock him off you. 

He grabbed your now broken nose, squeezing it. A mixture of your tears and blood rolled onto the cot, causing you to gasp in pain. “I’ll make sure you die outside the gate, that way you can’t be reunited with your little boy toy," 

-

There was a looming threat now over the camp that all four ghosts could feel. They approached the last building, knowing if you weren’t in here, there was nothing that could be done. They saw your car still parked outside the gate, knowledge of Xavier, who recognized it with no question. 

"She has to be here,” Montana said. “I can sense it.”

“There’s someone else here, too,” Chet said, “I can feel it, it’s really-”

“-dark,” Ray finished.

Xavier went and peeked in one of the windows, seeing nothing. They went to the door, finding it was locked. It was too weird, as they all tried to unlock it themselves. It wouldn’t budge.

“Y/N!” Xavier called, roughly banging on the door with a closed fist. Chet and Ray scaled the cabin, seeing some of the windows were still covered from last Summer. 

“Who is y/n?”

They looked to see Trevor bounding towards them, his junk almost peeking from his shorts. The three boys avoided looking at him, but Montana was having a blast. 

“Xavier’s girlfriend!” Chet smirked.

Trevor gasped, looking at his friend, who was still visibly panicked, “Congrats, man!”

Xavier didn’t bother to correct him; you’d be his girlfriend now, he didn’t care. He NEEDED you back. 

“Where is she?” Trevor asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, we can’t find her anywhere,” Ray shrugged. 

“She’s in here, I know it!” Xavier exclaimed, once again beating on the door to no avail. 

“Is y/n another ghost I don’t know about? I saw Bertie earlier, she lost her lighter and is very upset-”

“- she’s still alive, a little too jumpy if you ask me-” Montana butted in.

The now group of five instantly froze at the bloodcurdling scream coming from inside the cabin. It was something they never heard before, even after the number of people Montana killed over the past year. 

“Y/N!” Xavier screamed, his voice cracking. Ray and Chet both tried the lock again, but it wouldn’t open. Montana stood back, her eyes wide, and for once, she was scared. 

“Move! Move!” Trevor said, nudging the three boys away from the door. “This door versus my GUNS!” he said, yelling as he ran full speed towards the locked door, making it look easy as the wood splintered open, sending him flying and landing on the floor. The others scrambled after him, hearing your begging behind another door. 

“XAVIER! SOMEONE-” your voice became muffled as if someone were suffocating you. 

Xavier went to the door, relieved when the door opened with ease. He froze at the scene before him. 

A man was kneeling over you, a blade in his hands. Your jeans were ruined and cut, on the ground beside the bed. The man didn’t stop, despite hearing what was going on on the outside. 

Xavier lunged forward, tackling the man as they both plummeted to the floor. Your attacker laughed as if it were a game, attempting to uppercut Xavier, but missed as Xavier was yanked off of him. Chet and Trevor both grabbed Richard, hauling him up as if he were weightless.

Montana ran to you and covered you up with an old blanket, hiding your cut up legs and intimate parts as you cried. Ray started to untie you, finding that his eyes were prickling with tears.

Xavier kneeled beside your head, cradling it as you sobbed in relief. They all saved you, even the mystery guy with a pornstache who helped Chet in 'escorting’ Richard outside. Yet, the pain you felt in your nose, and now down there still factored in. 

“What do we do!?” Montana asked in a panic. Despite her dislike for your relationship with Xavier, none of them could leave to drive you to a hospital. The phone lines wouldn’t work either, and nobody seemed to notice the lamp still on beside you. She was scared.

Your cries calmed somewhat as Xavier continued to cradle your head while Ray finally freed you. You fell limp into Xavier’s arms, his purple tank now drenched with your blood. Chet came running in, explaining Trevor got 'rid’ of him. None of them were nurses, they didn’t know what to do. 

However, that didn’t stop them from trying. 

Xavier stayed with you as they scattered, gathering supplies to aid your wounds and get you cleaned up. He was guilt-stricken, knowing he should have stayed with you. Montana even felt remorse as she gave you a final look before she ran after the others. 

“Did he?…” Xavier couldn’t even finish, but you knew what he meant.

“No, but I’m sure he would have if you guys didn’t save me,” you mumbled, ignoring the searing pain in your nose. Xavier pressed kisses to your forehead, wishing he was powerful enough to heal you himself. You were dizzy, your skin becoming clammy. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said brokenly. You reached with a shaky hand to grip his, threading your fingers together.

“It’s not your fault,” you tried to reason with him.

“I left you alone, I-I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry for dying, I’m sorry for abandoning you- I love you, y/n. I’m so in love with you, you deserved the world, you deserved better than me.”

You were shocked. Your body tensed up after Xavier’s admission to you, but neither of you realized it was because of the trauma you had just experienced. Xavier continued to weep, mumbling things you now could not catch. 

Your adrenaline had shot up once Richard really attacked you. You always heard that dying of fright was a myth, and it was, you knew that. You just never realized an unhealthy amount of adrenaline could cause someone to die.

When you unexpectedly took your last breath, Xavier was still confessing his undying love to you. 

taglist:  @thexmancometh @the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd​ @okoktrinity22​ @uwonman​

*if I missed anyone, please let me know! if you want to be added to my taglist, you know the drill. only two parts left!*

#cody fern #xavier plympton #ahs 1984 #michael langdon #jim mason #duncan shepherd #jim mason x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #xavier plympton x reader #michael langdon x reader

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 3

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1      Part 2       Part 4       Part 5

You’re done sampling the food that J brought over, quite annoyed he lied about the crepes; it was probably the only reason why you opened the door for him. Or maybe it was a different motive that you don’t like to think of because… what’s the point anyway?

“Crane said he added a new ingredient to your capsules,” The Joker brings it up. “I have no idea how he was able to get Cromyxillium since it’s just in experimental phase; I suppose he has awesome connections,” your guest chews one last bite of cashew salad.

“I know, he texted me but I didn’t answer back… I’m mad at him… I’m mad at everything these days,“ you admit and The King of Gotham piles up the empty styrofoam boxes, calculating how much money Scarecrow spent on a product that might be able to improve your condition.

Y/N watches him absent minded, too preoccupied with her problems to realize The King of Gotham is attentive to her words.

“I used to help my dad develop my remedy, still nothing works and he entirely immersed himself in this ridiculous task of saving me from terminal cancer. He ignored Evelyn for weeks until she left: she understood what he was doing up to a certain level; when it became an obsession…” and you sigh, aggravated by your father’s stubbornness. “I told him he has to patch up their relationship; I don’t him to be all alone after I’m gone…” you sulk and J grabs the containers, dumping them in the trashcan near the table.

“Yeah, Crane will probably be very lonely without you…” and J stops his innuendo when he comprehends how it sounds. “On a positive note,” The Clown Prince of Crime stretches, “I’m actually here to ensure you’re ok taking the capsules containing the new ingredient. Your father asked me to and I am notorious for being this…this selfless person ready to offer my services,” J over exaggerates his ability to sympathize with your situation. “He also warned me not to try anything funny. I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to share any of my funny jokes; doesn’t make any sense,” the distorted interpretation of your parent’s threat almost prompts Y/N’s smile.

“You probably pushed for this visit, taking advantage of the fact that me and my dad had a fight, hm?” you bluntly describe the truth and J can’t defend his absurd statements because your cell phone starts ringing; you glare at the screen, debating if you should answer or not.

“Is that him?” The Joker inquires and you nod a yes while deciding to accept Scarecrow’s call.

“Hello…” you sneak out on the patio as J figures he should walk to his car in order to retrieve the duffel bag fixed in advance for his sleepover.

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

Your conversation lasted for about 20 minutes thus The Joker jumped in the shower lacking any type of permission from Y/N; perhaps it could be the reason for your abrupt intrusion in the cozy bathroom.

“Can I take a shower with you?” he hears your question and for once J is uncertain of his reply, yet he is not the kind of person to show reluctance no matter the context.

“It’s your place, isn’t it?” he grumbles and distinguishes your silhouette beyond the steamy glass panels quickly stripping your clothes.

The Joker continues to scrub his skin, undisturbed by your request: he simply doesn’t care if you join him or not.

“I’m using your stuff,” J announces and your arms suddenly hug him from behind.

“You can use whatever you want,” your lips kiss the dragon tattoo on his back a couple of times and he doesn’t even turn around to peek.

“I gotta wash my hair,” he mutters and you brush your lips against his shoulder, sweetly offering:

“I can wash it for you.”

“I got it!” Y/N’s demand is cut off immediately; you’re so humiliated by his lack of interest you curse the dumb choice of being so straightforward: it’s not the first time he shows zero attraction towards his daughter’s best friend.

Your arms release the embrace and The Joker reprises his important chore while hearing you fumbling with toiletry items: you are finishing off your routine at an increased speed, willing to exit out of there as soon as possible.

A few minutes of silence, then The Clown Prince of Crime finally pronounces an insolent remark:

“I hope you saw a naked man before, Y/N! I don’t wanna be accused of traumatizing you. If it really makes you feel better, you can wash my hair.”

No smarty pants attitude rendered upon him and J gazes where you stood only to notice you’re gone: after quietly tiptoeing out of the shower, Y/N took her medications and prepared for the night ahead; she plans for J to sleep in the second bedroom at the small cabin, thus she will spend the night on the couch in the living room, watching TV until she’ll doze off.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker emerges from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. “Are we cuddling on that couch or do we have further arrangements?”

“Spare bedroom,” you grouchily mumble, getting comfortable under the blanket.

“I thought we’re cuddling buddies,” he pretends to be offended at your affirmation mostly since pushing the limit is encoded in his wretched DNA.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”  

“My bad,” he grins. “I guess I was misled by your actions at the mansion.”

He has such a nerve bringing that up!

“I’m not the type of person to force myself on women,” The Joker innocently informs, “but can I watch TV with you? I’ll camp on the floor by the sofa which is my way to hint I need a bunch of soft blankets to pile up so I won’t break my back. I mean, it’s not very nice of you to deny me access on the couch; must I remind you I granted you free passage in my bed when you asked for it?”

“Are you for reals?!” an increasingly fuming Y/N shrieks slowly rolls out of her relaxing nest. “You were horrible to me and then tried to make it better just because you worried I’d tell Emma or my father! Well, rest assured: I’m not a snitch! You truly don’t have to extend your good will to such lengths on my account! It’s not necessary, ok?! You don’t have to drive here to bring my capsules, you don’t have to bring me food. You don’t have to do anything!!”

“Watch your tone!” J growls, displeased with your feisty attitude. “Do I have to remind you who barged into my privacy to take a peek at me naked?”

Your eyes are big at his derogatory insinuation: he’s playing stupid regarding the incident.

“I barged into your privacy?!” you shout, aggravated. “How can…”

“Umm…” The Joker interrupts, “…your nose is bleeding.”

You didn’t even detect the blood trickling down your skin and you touch it, confused. The King of Gotham watches you a few hesitant steps before you unexpectedly collapse to the ground. “Hey!” his voice echoes in and out. “Hey what’s wrong?... … Can you hear me?”

There’s this high pitch taking over your mind and you can barely discern bits and pieces of a conversation J is carrying with your father. You’re not even aware you’re in a moving vehicle, that’s how much you lost grip on reality.

“What’s in for me if I bring her over, huh?”

“I compensated you!!  Two Nightmare ampoules, a small fortune on the black market! Get off your fucking high horse and bring me my daughter, would you?!” an exasperated parent admonishes.

“Maybe I will stop the car and let nature follow its course,” The Joker fights back Scarecrow’s affront, yet your dad has plenty on his plate .

“If you do such a thing and she dies, I’ll hold you responsible and trust me when I say you don’t want me to hold you responsible!!!” the serious ultimatum prompts your chauffeur to take a sharp turn on Highway 68. “Am I on speaker?” Jonathan checks without given his apparent opponent a chance to rationalize his behavior.

“Yes!” J snarls, pissed at the stupid rescue mission entrusted to him.

“Y/N, hang in there! I’ll get stuff ready by the time you arrive, alright?” Scarecrow encourages his daughter, afraid of the severe consequences of the experimental drug she ingested.  

“Mmmm,” you moan in your daze, not being able to respond.

“Keep her alert; we can’t have her sink into a coma! I have to formulate an IV mixture to flush the Cromyxillium out of her system!”

“She’s completely out!” The Joker states although there’s nobody at the other end of the line anymore. “Who’s we anyway?!” he huffs and elects to give it a go regardless. “Y/N, how many kids we would have had if we were married?... … … … … I think the precise answer is at least 4, am I correct?” J blabbers on since you don’t engage in the conversation. “Great…I’ll be held liable for your demise,” he bites his lower lip, vexed things didn’t shine too bright for him; in fact, no matter how hard The Clown tries the blame it on somebody else, he dug his own hole on this one.

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

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the darkness, but the sharp poke in your arm makes you groan in pain.

“I’m sorry honey,” your father whispers. “We have to keep the IV for an hour, then I can take the needle out.”

“D-daddy…” you find the strength to stammer. “Am I… am I dying…?”

“No… No… I won’t let you die…” Scarecrow kisses your forehead, upset you don’t seem fine at all. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think you’ll have a reaction to Cromyxillium, not the way I bound the particles with the rest of the molecules.”

“You didn’t test it?” The Joker intervenes into a dialogue he should steer clear off.

“No, I didn’t have time to test it!” Jonathan hatefully stares at the man he wishes to strangle on the spot. “I don’t have time for anything!! Do you understand? My daughter is dying!! I’m not even that kind of doctor yet she’s breathing nevertheless due to my capability of manipulating compounds! Y/N would be 6 feet under with traditional chemotherapy, which proves I am doing a few things right!!! If Emma was sick, I’m certain you wouldn’t run your mouth like you do now!”

J wiggles in his chair, definitely about to erupt at Crane’s justified tirade.

“I’m so cold…” you utter, the ruckus adding to your general discomfort.

“That’s normal, it means the intravenous remedy is working; I’ll bring more covers,” Jonathan strolls out of the room only to gasp upon his return: J is snuggling with you, totally oblivious to your parent’s stupefied question: “What the hell are you doing??!!”

“I got off my high horse and I’m keeping her warm,” J stresses the importance of his random deed. “It’s not cheap thought! I demand…”

“You demand nothing!” Scarecrow covers you with more layers, irritated The King of Gotham has the audacity to milk out benefits in these circumstances; the latest wants to protest Jonathan’s vehement denial while not being conceded the prospect of such luxury:

“Dad…” you reach out your left hand and he sits by you, keeping the shaky fingers on his face. “Did… did you call Evelyn?” you barely blink, exhausted from the intensive treatment.

“I will…”

“You have to; I don’t want you to end up alone… She loves you… You could have more children with her… or at least one more…”

Jonathan Crane inhales, flustered his daughter is worried about him when she should worry about herself.

“I could have more kids, but don’t you know you’re irreplaceable?” he kisses your wrist and pretends to brush off the agony building up in his heart. “Don’t cry honey,” he wipes your tears, then casually shoves The Joker’s arm since is wrapped around your waist. “Your help is no longer required,” Scarecrow hints and his advice falls on deaf ears: J has important news that might switch the balance in his favor.

“I also called Emma on my way here to report about Y/N’s ordeal; she’s cutting her trip to New York short and I received strict orders to make myself useful until her arrival. Now, unless you want to deal with another pain in the ass besides your offspring, I suggest you tolerate my presence!”

Jonathan curls up in a ball on the vacant side of your bed, relieved to see you’re napping. "I didn’t feel the urge to punch someone in ages!” he sneers.

“Likewise!” The Joker barks too from behind your shoulder. “How come she passed out again?” he switches the subject and Jonathan explains without any trace of enthusiasm.

“I included a serum that promotes nice dreams in her IV bag: she’ll be in a deep sleep and envision things she likes.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m sure I’ll pop up in there then,” the excited Clown Prince of Crime emphasizes to your father’s disapproval.

“I said things she likes!”

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

10:12am

“Hello Miss Crane,” you are greeted as you narrowly open your eyes; it takes a minute to recollect from the dizziness and confusion of last night’s episode.

“Where’s my dad?” you lick your dry lips, noticing J by the windows.

“At the lab; he’s consulting with some doctors or whatnot and left me in charge,” he effortlessly forges half a truth with half a lie.

“Where’s my phone? I want to talk to him.”

“I think I left it at the cabin, I was in a hurry to get you here.”

“You drove me?...” you skeptically interrogate.

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

“No…” you stretch while touching the band aid placed where the needle used to be. “Where’s Emma?”

“On her way back to Gotham; she called several times and tried talking to you but you were out.”

“Was I?...”

“U-hum,” J shakes his head. “I reckon she promised she’ll assist with your birthday party next week and she’s terrified you’ll kick the bucket in the meantime. She didn’t precisely articulate these sentences, but I‘m her dad: I can read in between the lines,” the proud Joker blurs out, loving the shocked look you display. “Am I invited to the celebration?”

You signal a no and he’s not discouraged by your vehement denial.

“Can I bring Mara?”

“Absolutely not!!!”

“Oh, so I’m actually invited but not her?”

He takes advantage of the speechless Y/N, setting up the stage for his own benefit:

“I can work with that,” he glares at you, gratified. “However, I can’t show at a party without a date; it’s not dignifying for a man of my social status. This leaves us with only one solution.”

“NO!” you protest because you can estimate his proposal.

“Cool, then we have a deal Miss Crane: you got yourself a date!”

“I already have a date!”

“Who?”  The Joker smirks. 

“Sam is my date for my birthday.”

“Sam as in Bane’s son?”

“Yes,” you squirm under the blankets, uneasy at the concept of having J as partner for the upcoming bash.

“Pfft,” he huffs. “That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” your own words from last night are used by the obnoxious green haired menace. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday at 3pm, ok?”

“The party is here at my house!”

“Ok, then you pick me up at 3pm.”

“I’m not picking you up!” you scoff at his nonsense.

“Damn, you’re hard to negotiate with,” The Joker scratches his chin. “Fine, I’ll bring myself here.”

You contemptuously stare at him, appalled he keeps on insisting when you declined his plan. On top of everything, the whole universe is getting the confirmation today that Jonathan Crane’s genius is frankly skipping a generation since you enunciate:

“Don’t be late!”

Also read: MASTERLIST

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[mrs-takami-keigo]

King of the Clouds

Chapter 3

 Main Pairing: Hawks/OC

 Story Rating: Explicit

 Genre: Romance/Action/Smut

 Words: 3,000

Part 1           

Part 2

Part 4

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  “My name is Todoroki Shouto! I’m looking for my father and my cousin!” The teen was out of breath, his forehead covered in sweat as he stared at the nurse behind the desk.

 “Oh, honey they are in room 201. It’s down the hall last door on the left.” She pointed out where the room was to the red- and white-haired boy before he took off.  Shouto watched the whole fight in the common room of his dorm, with his classmates. Watching his father almost get killed was enough to break him, but when he saw his cousin jump into the fight and almost die herself really sent him over the edge.

 Sliding the door open he was greeted to the sight of his father in a hospital bed and a damaged Hawks right beside him being patched up by a nurse.

 “Shouto? What are you doing here?” There was a split second where Endeavor’s face had shown concern for his son before it was covered up by his usual scowl.

 “I’m here to see Quinn, is she alright?” His voice was just as cold as his right side when it came to speaking to the older man.

 Hawks felt the tension in the room, figuring that this was more of a family matter. “I’m just gonna go check in with the police and give them my report.” As soon as he stood up, he felt a rather large hand push his shoulder making him fall back into the seat.

 “No Hawks, there is something I have to explain to you about Quinn’s power.” He looked to his left at the curtain that was drawn closed. “That was her most powerful special move, Phoenix rising. It essentially lets her absorb any kind of fire around her to fuel her own flames, letting her release all that pent-up power to her opponent. It’s immensely powerful but dangerous. Whenever she uses it, she puts herself in danger.” Grunting he took the blanket off his legs before swinging them off the side of the bed. Standing up his knees buckled under him, but Hawks moved fast to help stabilize him. Walking to the curtain with Shouto right behind him, he pulled it back.

 “She pretty much kills herself every time she uses it.” Hawks felt his heart drop into his stomach. The smile she gave him right before she passed out flashed in his mind he wanted to hold on to that image because the way she looked right now was intense and scary. Quinn had a tube in her mouth going down her throat that was being used to bring oxygen to her lungs. Her whole body covered in wires and different machines all around her making sure she stays alive. “Such a foolish child. I told her not to use it. Those blue flames are far hotter and more deadly than our own.”

 “Will she wake up?” It was Hawks turn to speak, surprised that words could even form from his mouth. He stepped closer to the sleeping women resting his hands on the railing of the bed.

 “Yes, she’ll be like this for about a week. That’s one of the good things about her powers she really is like a Phoenix, if they die a Phoenix will always rise from their ashes. But she is not immortal, I’m afraid if she continues to use this power she may not wake up. When she was younger, I told her to never use this unless it was a matter of life or death.”

 Hawks felt the breath he was holding escape his lungs. He had never seen someone just so selflessly jump into a situation like that with as much composure as she had. It made him remember the time Endeavor saved him as a small child, that same feeling crept back into his heart. That’s what he felt when he first saw her stand in front of him protecting him from the flames. Safe, he felt safe.

 “Alright big guy lets get you back to bed. And Shouto right?” Hawks has turned around smiling at the father and son duo in front of him. “Take care of your old man, he’s a pain in the ass but he really did protect us all today.” Putting his hands in his pocket the hero started to whistle as he made his way out the door ignoring the flame hero’s yells about putting respect on his name.

   Almost a week had passed since Quinn put Phoenixes name in the history books forever. Men, women and children alike knew what she did and that she was a hero that made the citizens feel safe while she was around. Endeavor had been discharged from the hospital a day after but the moment he stepped out of the hospital he was bombarded with reporters from different news channels. Most of them asking ‘Where is Phoenix?’, he knew he couldn’t say her exact condition not wanting to let one of her weaknesses be known, he settled with just telling them that she was just fine and just fainted from the exhaustion from her recent move to Japan. The entire Todoroki family took turns spending time at the hospital, besides Shouto who had to focus on school.

 “Oh Endeavor!” Stopping in his tracks he looked over his shoulder to see Quinn’s doctor running up to him.  It felt odd when people called out his hero name while he was in civilian clothes.

 “Oh, hello Doctor, is everything alright with Phoenix?”

 “She’s fine, doing a lot better! We took the breathing tube out since she’s able to breath on her own now and her vitals are coming back perfectly fine. We just have to wait for her to wake up.” Endeavor felt the weight on his chest lift when the doctor said that, he knew she would be fine but the death threats coming from her mother, there was one person who can strike fear in him and that was his own sister.

 “Perfect! Thank you, Doctor.” He started to make his way to the door like he had for the past few days now. With his right hand he grabbed the door handle about to slide the door open, but the sight of red wings stopped him. Looking through the window of the door he saw Hawks sitting on the chair, phone in his hand but would occasionally break away from the phone to look at Quinn’s face. Part of him was surprised to see the younger man here but the other half wasn’t. Everyday he would get a text from said boy asking about Quinn’s condition but today was the first time he saw him at the hospital.

 Turning around he walked back to the Doctor who was at the nurse’s station. “Leaving already?”

 “Don’t want to crowd the room. When she wakes up call me immediately.”

  Hawks POV

 It felt weird to just see her in this state no matter how many times I had come to see her. Most times it was only for about ten minutes but tonight I had the night off and didn’t have to patrol until tomorrow night. It bugged me to my core that in a matter of about a week she was able to get ruffle up my feathers, she was on my mind almost constantly. The image that’s stuck on repeat was the smile she gave me before collapsing. Shaking my head, I shoved my phone in the back pocket of my jeans leaning forward I rested my elbows on my knees while interlocking my fingers, letting my chin fall on the little bridge I made.

 She looked beautiful even in this state, her skin has a nice tan to it I am assuming from her own regular complexion and from being in the sky all the time. The way her hair fell on the pillow let me see the slight burgundy that was hidden in the loose curls. My eyes moved to focus on her lips, despite being out of consciousness for a week now those lips still looked soft and plump. I stood up slightly leaning over her sleeping body, I knew what I was about to do was bold, but I couldn’t help it. Taking my right hand, I gently touched her cheek with the tips of my fingers feeling her soft silk like skin.

 The sound of my phone notifying me that I had a text message brought me back to reality. Snatching my hand back to my side I looked at the message from a blocked number. I felt my face fall as I stared at the message.

 ‘Abandoned warehouse by the docks in one hour.’

 “If you leave your face like that, you’re going to get wrinkles, and that wouldn’t be good for your image dove.” Quinn’s voice was raspy due to the lack of water and her not talking for a week. Quickly I turned to the little table to the side of her bed to pour her a generous glass of water. Moving my left arm behind her shoulder blades helping her sit up so she can take a sip of water.

 “Welcome back to the land of the living princess, it’s good to have you back.” I chuckled as her face frowned when my new nickname for her rolled off my lips.

 “Princess? What am I five?” she scooted her body back making it easier for her to sit up. Her right hand running through her curly locks, moving her hair out of the way so she could turn to look at me.

 “No, but if you’re going to call me dove, I’m just going to have to call you princess.”

 “Fine, whatever I don’t have the energy to keep arguing with you.” I watched as she looked around the room, her eyes were full of questions as she took in the details of the room. “How long was I out for?” Quinn’s voice was barely above a whisper.

 “It’s been about a week, your uncle filled me in on your special move. Why would you use something that could do all of this to you? I’m sure you could have gotten him another way.”

 “I had no choice Hawks, that Dabi guy, his fire was something I don’t think I had ever seen before.” Quinn looked down at the palms of her hands. “That level of heat was more than insufferable if I hadn’t done Phoenix Rising, none of us would have made it out alive let alone recognizable.”

 “I may not like what this does to you but what you did was nothing short of amazing.” I placed my hands-on top of top of hers, they felt so warm. Her eyes traveled from my hands and up my arms soon locking her brown ones with my own. I never fully noticed how big and beautiful they were, the brown in them wasn’t just dark brown they had small flakes of honey added to them.

 “Hey Hawks?” Her voice dropped down in tone, sending shivers down my spine. Quinn’s grip on my hands tightened as she drew herself closer to me.

 “What is it Princess?” My own voice had dropped like hers, eyes never leaving her beautiful ones.

 “Next time you touch my face with those nasty fingers, I will set your wings on fire you got me?” She pulled away from me laughing at the shocked expression on my face. She teased me, she fucking teased me!

“Duly noted, no touching of the face got it.” Noticing that our hands were still locked I pulled her back to me. A small gasp escaped her lips, our cheeks were touching. My feathers picked up her heart rate as it sped up. I let my lips brush against her ear, “You never said anything about my lips. I’m not a man that lets someone tease me and I don’t tease back.” I pressed my lips gently to the skin right below her ear, where her neck and jaw connect. I heard the slightest intake of breath from the older woman while I pulled away.

 “You are an asshole do you know that?” I laughed as she took her hand wiping the area, I had kissed just like she did when I kissed her hand. The pout that formed on her face made me question if she was really a woman in her late twenties.

 “If you keep doing that, I’m going to think I have cooties or somethin’!” I glanced at my watch realizing I had a little more than thirty minutes to go to the meet up, I can feel the anger rise back in me. “Hey, Quinnie I have to go, call your family they’ve all been worried about you.”

 “Don’t tell me what to do bird! Just go, I can handle myself.” I could tell she was still bitter about my little tease. Shaking my head, I let myself out of the room heading for the emergency exit. This guy sure had a lot of nerve that’s for sure. Once out the door and on the fire escape, I jumped letting my wings carry me to the docks.

  -Third POV-

 It was already late at night and this part of the docks was deserted making it the best place for a villain to do his business. Dabi took a drag of his cigarette that was pinched between his fore finger and thumb. He could feel the burn in his lungs as the toxic smoke invaded them just before letting the white smoke leave his lips. His mind trailed to the thought of the fire hero, she ruined his chances of killing the number one hero. If it weren’t Kurogiri he would have been severely injured or even dead. When she absorbed his blue flames he was impressed, he knew his flames were the hottest flames and she took it like it was nothing.

 Caching the flap of wings, he looked towards the sky to see red wings and blonde hair coming at him fast. Tossing the cigarette on the ground and stomping on it he smiled as he welcomed the hero.

 “Hawks, long time no see!” his arms were spread as he walked towards Hawks.

 “What the fuck was that?! I thought we were supposed to release the Nomu on Endeavor in a dead are!” Hawks yelled, his face was fierce, eyes were dark as the taller male approached.

 “Change of plans we moved the attack up a day, so shoot me.” Dabi let a laugh out, he could see the hero get more and more upset, and he loved it. “But then again that wouldn’t be very hero like would it, not that YOU should care.” He was testing the hero. Hawks had sought him out wanting to be a double spy for the league, but Dabi was not fully convinced.

 “Yes, I want to bring the corrupt system of the heroes down just as much as you do but the civilians don’t have to be apart of this war.” Hawks had to play it cool, if he wanted to get close to Shigaraki he had to play his character. When the commission asked him to be a double agent for them, he knew this was going to be tough, but none the less he had to do it, its what he was trained to do. A soldier for the commission that did anything they needed.

 “Okay, Okay pretty boy!” Dabi put his hand up in defeat. His joking mannerisms faded. “Tell me about the female hero that was there, Phoenix was it? She was an unexpected treat.”

 His breath hitched when Quinn’s hero name rolled off his tongue. Clenching his fist, he knew he had to give the villain in front of him the intel on the new hero. Deciding to give him the answers someone could easily find online. “I don’t know much just that she’s a hero from the states, number three to be exact. She joined Endeavor’s agency, her powers are flames and telekinesis and she can fly with the wings she makes from flames.”

 “Interesting, she reminds me of someone.” Dabi let his voice trail off when he said the last part peeking the other male’s interest. “Anyway, she is going to be an issue, we might have to focus on getting rid of her first.”

 “WAIT! I think I can get her to join us.” Hawks knew he was talking out of his ass at this point, but he had to protect her.

 “How so?”

 “She hates lazy heroes and I’m sure there are plenty of them. If I can convince her that our ideals are just like hers, she could benefit the entire league.”

 “You might be on to something, but if she doesn’t agree I will be the one to personally kill your little friend.” With that Dabi turned away from Hawks walking into the dark alley. “There is another meeting two weeks from today same place be there.”

 Hawks watched as he faded into the darkness. Quite sure Kurogiri had a warp hole there waiting for him. When he knew it was safe, he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck me!” He hissed under his breath.  He knew she would never join, and he also knew she could never know about him being a double agent till it was the right time. He never understood the phrase ‘Stuck between a rock and a hard place’ until this very moment.  

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