#ambie got tagged

[rosenfey]

⊱ tagged by @dragonsdogma2 to make my ocs in this picrew, thank you fray! ♡

🍄🫖 ꕥ — 𝑓𝑎𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 — fey﹒healer﹒girl power good ✨🗡️ ꕥ — 𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎 𝑑'𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 — acolyte﹒warlock﹒female rage evil

⊱ tagging: @magearisen﹒@pinkfey﹒@druidgroves﹒@feywhimsy, @fantasmagoriam﹒@tekehu﹒@theviridianbunny﹒@gortash﹒@haarleps﹒@obliviongate﹒@nocticulas﹒@shadowglens﹒@euryalex﹒@lutebard﹒@spookyorcas﹒@leviiackrman﹒@florbelles﹒@mercymaker﹒@kelemvorr﹒@bethesdas﹒@seluned﹒@feykiller﹒@utopianoverlord﹒@dravanias﹒@elluvians﹒@lavampira﹒@hungryblackbird﹒@thedeadthree﹒@sephiratales﹒@dilfbuck﹒@heinrix﹒@ehlnofaey﹒@thefrostyshepard﹒@sylvthara﹒@thanekrios﹒@hartsvale﹒@corvus-rose﹒@faerieroyal﹒@sevenyeargap (feel free to ask to be added / removed!) ♡

[corcedo]

Come back home to me pls

IM LITERALLY SLEEPING IN MY CAR I CANT EVEN GO TO MY ACTUAL HOME RN??

[skelly-bean]

I love the character I’ve made for baldurs gate 3 SO. MUCH!

I feel like there is so much going on with them visually but I don’t even care they’re amazing

I also love the guardian I made a lot too - definitely put way less time into making her but I was so tired of overthinking in character creation haha

[archie-sunshine]

Not sure if you did first aid and ambulon for the DND esque AU...

But *looks at you with eyes full of autism and my hands full of pretty rocks* I can give you this in exchange if you do it?

- 🌾

YESYES! I already did first aid, you can see that in the knightformers tag on my blog, but yeah! here's amby. I imagine instead of peeling paint, on fantasy amby, i think he's got fraying clothes that are a bit too big for him, as if he was lended them when he defected to the autobots and he just never got them replaced

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

I've seen your face before, my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am

by HMSLusitania

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Jonathan Byers, Will Byers, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Joyce Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Barbara "Barb" Holland, Karen Wheeler, Wayne Munson Additional Tags: Fix It, technically an everyone lives AU, Post Season 5 (spec), Post canon, post time travel, Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, referenced period typical homophobia, Background slowburn Ronance, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, Everyone has so much trauma, Outsider POV (but the outsider is Eddie), in Hawkins the found family finds you Words: 26,952 Chapters: 4/4

Summary

At the end of it all, to fix everything, the Hawkins crew had to go back to 1983 and prevent the first gate from ever opening. After that, they've got a chance to lead normal lives -- from November 1983 onward. OR Waking up to find out the government had busted a bunch of experimented-on kids out of Hawkins Lab over the weekend is somehow not the strangest thing that happens in Eddie Munson's junior year. No, that's a toss up between being reverse-adopted by a party of middle schoolers and the fact Steve Harrington won't stop staring at him.

[dramaqueeenamby]

I posted 334 times in 2022

33 posts created (10%)

301 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cocoamoonmalfoy

@jazzytee

@lovebittenbyevans

@jazzyf1

@tchallasbabymama

I tagged 329 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#photo - 205 posts

#text post - 72 posts

#black women - 67 posts

#dqa ask - 22 posts

#marvel tings - 19 posts

#black panther - 15 posts

#mcu - 15 posts

#personal - 9 posts

#black men - 7 posts

#black panther: wakanda forever - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 65 characters

#hopefully y’all stumble across some amazing and underrated works!

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Amby!!!!! It’s so good to see you!!! How are you love??

Hey babe!!! I always miss ya'll when I do my little disappearing acts. Ugh. I'm okay. Life is still lifin, but you know how that is.....

How are you?????

@cocoamoonmalfoy

7 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

#4

😒😒😒😒😒 I see some things never change on this damn site

13 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

#3

updates.

Don't remember the last time I shared some things, but I got my counselor license at the top of this year, so I'm a licensed professional counselor in my state! Working on certifications on child and adolescent trauma as well as a neuropsychological treatment approach to anxiety. I'm going to apply for my next (and final) license which would allow me to open my own private practice (which is the goal) in August of next year. I also got a car, her name is dulce. She's the babe. Uhhhh got formally diagnosed with PCOS, and that's been kicking my ass in so many ways, so that sucks. Been working on a writing project for a minute now, but I can't talk about it cause it's not just mine. Anddddd......I've been reading more and playing sims on Saturdays. Oh! I'm also only gonna be working Monday through Thursday starting the 3rd week of August, so hopefully that will free up some time.

Probably more, but I won't bore folks.

19 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

#2

Black Panther 2 was a masterpiece, and I am emotional.

Expect a one shot sometime tonight.

84 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Easy | T'Challa Udaku

A/N: My god, BP2 was such an emotional ride. This is a product of all of the emotions I'm still reeling from. I have not written for BP in probably a year+, so I apologize for the rustiness.

Warnings: ANGST.

Words: 3K

You can find my other works HERE.

++++++++++++DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER++++++++++++

-----------

Loving him was easy. 

Maybe too easy.

Maybe things would have been easier if he wasn’t so easy. So easy to admire, so easy to be drawn to, so easy to feel an ungodly amount of love and adoration for. 

But maybe that was just T’Challa. With his beautiful smile and brilliant mind, few paths seemed to lead to some place loveless. He was the embodiment of attraction, from the way he spoke, to the way he conducted himself, to the way he loved.

Yeah….easy seemed to be unavoidable. 

A small smile makes its way to your face as you reminisce on your first meeting all those years ago. 

“Would you just tell me already?”

Nakia simply looks over at you with that same bored yet tempted expression. “And ruin the surprise? Never.”

She laughs, clearly amused by your frustration, by the lack of patience for which you’ve still struggled to fully comprehend. 

You’d just completed your War Dog training and had been assigned to Nakia, to shadow her on a few missions and prove that you were ready for your own assignment. It was a perfect partnership, as Nakia matched your wit and sense of humor, both of which had definitely gotten you in trouble more times than you’d like to admit.

“How about a hint?”

“How about no?”

Your eyes narrowed as you nudged her. “You are enjoying this.”

“Somewhat,” she admits. You share another look before giggling together when a firm voice from behind interrupts your moment. 

“Forgive me, ladies.”

“You are not forgiven,” your response is natural and instantaneous, a small smirk playing on your face. “Matter of fact, you should know better than to sneak on two lad–” The smirk drops and your ridicule is cut short by the dark eyes and curious gaze of the crowned prince who stands before you. 

If Nakia was amused before, she was delighted now. You can feel her eyes still focused on you as she bumps you with her hip. “Y/N, you didn’t finish your statement. How rude.”

Your glare could burn two holes into the princess as she shakes her head and returns her focus onto Prince T’Challa. 

“Yes, T’Challa?” It’s in the most random, unexpected moments that you remember while Nakia is your friend, she is also royalty. Perhaps it’s something you should commit to memory, especially given how you’ve just completely disregarded all protocol for the future ruler of Wakanda. 

Finally able to pick your eyeballs off the ground, you find that T’Challa’s gaze is pinpointed on you. “Nakia is correct. It is improper to finish your statement…..”

He trails off, and you realize he’s searching for your name. Slightly dejected and still embarrassed, you answer, hastily adding a “your grace” onto the end. For good measure and respect.

He simply makes a sound before repeating your name. It feels so strange hearing your name on his mouth, strange but also….right. Shifting your stance, you’re thankful when he finally reirects his focus to Nakia. Memory of what was said between them was lost years ago, but the initial butterflies in your stomach upon your first meeting have always stayed with you. 

You pray to Bast they always will. 

See the full post

330 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ambivalentcats]

Oh my god, ambi noooooo. I didn't know jjk leaks was a tag or even a thing and I got so spoiled by that post 😭😭😭 not blaming you, but nooooooo

I FORGOR TO RESPOND TO THIS I’M SORRYYYYYYYYY I DIDN’T MEAN TO

[lostintranslaation]

tell me about You are made of marble!!!!! -ambivalentmarvel

YES OKAY SO BASICALLY this fic is just all of my love and devotion being poured out for Natasha and the whole Russian gang and it kinda doubles as my predictions for the bw movie? Here’s a lil snippet handpicked just for u

Ask me about my WIPS!

[rosenfey]

⊱ tagged by @bethesdas to make myself in this picrew and post the last song I listened to, thank you! ♡

roadwarden ost is incredible. also go play roadwarden now.

⊱ tagging: @thanekrios﹒@hibernationsuit﹒@lavampira﹒@euryalex﹒@starforger

@florbelles﹒@baldurians﹒@pawnguild﹒@dekarios﹒@archonfurina

@inafieldofdaisies﹒@feykiller﹒@zahra-hydris﹒@noughtomaton﹒@corvus-rose

@ferwynter﹒@thefrostyshepard﹒@melancholicrainstorm﹒@sylvthara﹒@katsigian

@rindemption﹒@juniemoe﹒@eldensrings﹒@brujah﹒@therapyvibes

@sibeal﹒@epheyang﹒@lotusfaebell﹒@ravensgard﹒@thenightsong

@lutebard — (un)like this post to be added / removed.

[queenofmoons]

2 for the drabble game!! -ambivalentmarvel

No Cure Like Travel

Flash is the one to pop their bubble of silence. 

“So are we going to say anything, or are we going to just stand here?”

Peter swallows, and trains his eyes to the rafters holding the awning together. Around them, people are moving the same way New Yorkers always move: with purpose, violently, without consideration for the people around them. A suitcase nearly clips his ankle. Someone pushes past MJ, she whips her head around to glare at them. 

“It’s only four months,” Ned says, and his voice draws Peter’s gaze back. His voice is thick. Shaky. “I’ll be back in the states in no time.” 

“Movie night,” Peter says. “Every Monday night.” 

“Early Tuesday morning, for me.”

“Movie morning, then.” Peter grits his teeth. 

Ned turns his attention to MJ. “You’re gonna take care of him, right? Because I really don’t know that he’ll be able to make it without me.” 

“He won’t,” she says confidently. “You’ve seen his fridge, right? And I think that’s his fourth day wearing that shirt.”

Peter crinkles his nose. “Hey, now--”

She elbows him gently, just below his ribs. “I’ll watch him. I’m thinking of keeping him around for a little while, anyway.” 

Ned breaks, face falls, sniffles. 

“Don’t--” MJ starts, but it’s already too late.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” He admits. 

“We’re going to miss you, too--” Peter starts, but he’s muffled by the fabric of Ned’s shirt. He’s got an arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight. Peter buries his face into his collar. 

When they pull back, MJ’s eyes are wet, too. Ned looks behind them, and Peter follows his gaze with a frown. 

Flash is clearly uncomfortable, hands stuffed up to his wrist in the pockets of his cargo shorts. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, shifts rhythmically from one foot to the other. 

“You’re part of this too, man,” Ned says, and Flash jumps, startled, like he hadn’t been expecting to be addressed. Like he was just their ride, the designated driver with no part in this whole... cry-fest. 

“What?”

“Group hugs, dude. They’re for everyone.” 

Flash opens his mouth, lips turned down, eyes narrowing, but MJ pulls him by the elbow before he can protest. 

“Don’t get attacked by any elemental holograms while you’re there,” Flash says, and it almost sounds fond. 

[penisdungeon]

🧄

[henqtic]

sleep talk . . . big chop

word count: 303

“would you still love me if i went bald ?” you whispered to the boy laying on your chest, who you’d assume was dead asleep if it wasn’t for the soft brush his lips on one of your breast ever other ten seconds or so.

he paused his movements at your question, sluggishly dragging up his head to meet your eyes as if his neck wasn’t functioning.

“you wanna big chop again ?”

“no that’s different, i’m talking mr.clean type of bald— ”

“who’s that?”

“oh right. he’s the face of this muggle cleaning brand, he’s bald. like dipped in oil shiny bald, not a speck of hair on his head,” you clarified the character to clear his confused expression you couldn’t see through the pitch black darkness of his room.

“oh.”

“oh ?”

“i mean, no then, because then you’d get mad at me when i have the urge to slap it, and that takes the fun out of it,” he joked, suddenly a little more awake as he let out a rasped laugh, only growing as you lightly pushed his head off of your lower body in annoyance.

surprisingly, not putting up much of fight when he got just enough sleep diluted strength to lift himself completely up, turning you off of your back and onto your side so that he could wrap his arms loosely around your body —  face digging into the crook of your neck to breathe in the lotion you put on a few minutes ago.

“don’t be upset please, i adore you love, you could shave a square into the middle of your head and i’d still love you.”

“that’s sounds encrypted freddie, you play any form of that prank on me and i will break up with you,” you threatened with not much intent behind it, soon drifting into sleep.

🔖— !! @ambi-doo12 @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @axgelre @beforeoursunsets @selenesheart @o-rion-sta-r @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @myalupinblack​ @l0vely-lupin​ @ameliasbitvh​ @mauvea​ @cupids-crystals @wlfstxr​ @alanniys​ @magicchai​ @wrathspoet​ @uwiuwi​ @maybanksslut​ @marrymetheonott​ @becgggg @Imtryingbutithurts @galimalfoyweasley @dlmmdl @hogwarts-boys​ @akaaaaashiiii​ @fleursbabe​ @desiredmalfoy​ @redheaded-hobbit​ @yandere-marvel​ @mrs-brekker15​ @malfoysbiitch @mollysolo​ @haroldpotterson​ @yiamalfoy​ @bookfrog242​ @alluringlywhimsical @arabellelancastersstuff​ @wolfstar-lb​ @jellyddog @joyfullymulti @havenchy @pinkcloxds @impulse-anchor @iwannafeelallthatloveandemotion @hemogloban @theorangedrummer @silverose365 @angellxea @kitkatkaitin @if-only-i-was-fictional @slytherclaw1978 @moonlitmeeks @missryerye @popeheywardssecretgf @siriuslysmoking 

. . . info to be tagged in future works 𓂅

༊ taglist form — fill out to be tagged/notified when works are posted

༊ @henqticstudy​ — follow and turn on notifications for this blog to only get notified when a work it posted

[themirokai]

When Mystrade Met Rinch

Ok so @ambi-apocalypse got me to watch Person of Interest, and apparently I've now gotten @musicismagic-writes to watch it. And previously the ship that the three of us had in common was Mystrade. So this Mystrade to Rinch party gave me crossover thoughts, but those crossover thoughts would be a much more ambitious story than I'm actually ever going to write, so I figured I'd just post my plot bunny/outline here. If anyone wants to adopt this and actually write it into a story, have at it, but please let me know if you post it!

Most of it under the cut cause it's kinda long...

Finch and Reese are working a number and figure out that the dude is a freelance assassin. He’s clearly the perp but for some reason they’re not able to take him out, so they’re trying to figure out who his next target is.

Mycroft is in New York for a meeting at the UN. Greg, his husband, has decided to tag along and make a holiday of it.

Reese figures out that Assassin is surveilling this tall British dude with fancy suits and an umbrella. Reese suggests that Finch should talk to him about vests in order to get close to him. Finch informs Reese that the gentleman is wearing a waistcoat, not a vest. “When the garment is the third part of a three-piece suit it is referred to as a waistcoat.”

“See?” Reese says, “you can talk to him about fancy clothes stuff and then casually work your way around to why he’s being stalked by an assassin.”

After some digital digging…

“Ah, there he is,” Finch says. “His name is Mycroft Holmes. Looks like he’s a bureaucrat in the Department for Transportation.”

“That doesn’t add up, Finch. What’s a small time transportation guy doing at the UN? And he looks like his clothing budget rivals yours.”

“Maybe civil servants are better compensated across the pond? Or maybe he has inherited wealth?”

“Can’t you find out?”

“No. He’s remarkably off the grid.”

Reese realizes that Mycroft has a badass security detail. So what’s a well-dressed mid-level bureaucrat doing at the UN protected by a security detail? And why would the Machine give them the number of an assassin who’s trying to kill him if that security detail was up to the challenge? Something something, they figure out that the Assassin or whoever hired him has bribed/infiltrated/compromised/whatever the security detail.

Reese goes in. POW POW fight scene. Reese incapacitates like 3 dudes who were protecting Mycroft. So that leaves Mycroft and Greg.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Mycroft says, making eye contact with Reese, “there are 4 things this could be about. None of them require my husband’s involvement. You will let him go at once -“

“Sod off, Mycroft, I’m not leaving you!”

“But,” Mycroft continues, ignoring Greg, “if you harm a single hair on his head,” here he draws the sword from his umbrella, “I will open you from chin to groin.”

“Mr. Holmes I promise you I will - is that a sword?”

“A sharp one. And I assure you that I am quite good with it.”

“Did you pull it out of an umbrella?”

Mycroft barely restrains his eye roll. “Do keep up.” He turns to Greg. “Gregory, kindly go and phone Anthea and give her code gamma orange 6.”

Reese convinces Mycroft that his security was compromised by Assassin. Reese is happy to let Greg go but wants to protect both of them and cautions them against making any phone calls that could tip Assassin off.

Mycroft digests all this and then tells Reese that he wants to talk to the person in Reese’s ear. Finch agrees and they get on the phone.

“Everyone in your government is too frightened of me - appropriately - to try anything like this,” Mycroft starts off. “Your associate is former CIA but has left that employment and now has a wealthy benefactor. Your operation is quite small and so it stands to reason that the wealthy benefactor is also the person calling the shots. Who are you?”

“I’m someone with accurate information and a desire to use it to prevent harm, Mr. Holmes.”

They talk. Game recognizes game. Mycroft knows that the Americans wanted the Machine after 9/11 and has now deduced that they have it and Finch has access to it. Mycroft decides he can trust Finch and Reese and lets Reese take them to a safe house while they wait for Anthea to assemble and send a clean security detail. Reese asks if they’re sure Anthea hasn’t been compromised. Greg laughs a lot.

On the way to the safe house…

“So about that umbrella,” Reese says, looking at Mycroft in the rear view mirror. Mycroft raises an eyebrow in response. “Can anyone buy one or is it an MI6 thing?”

“If Gregory and I make it out of this situation unharmed, I would be happy to contact the purveyor on your behalf, Mr. Reese. Though I will say that this sort of weapon doesn’t seem your style.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be for me,” Reese says with a smile. He touches his ear. “I know what I’m getting you for Christmas, Finch.”

“Mr. Reese-“

“It’s a weapon that isn’t a gun and doesn’t need to be walked!”

“Actually, it’s also a gun,” Mycroft says.

“Shh, he doesn’t like guns.”

“Walked?” Greg asks.

“Already got him a dog. But sometimes the dog is with me.”

They get to the safe house but Greg and Reese are both restless. Making sure Mycroft is safe is good, but actually stopping Assassin would be better. Greg wants to use himself as bait to lure out Assassin, then have Reese get him. Mycroft Does Not Approve. Finch trusts Reese’s judgment. Reese calls in Carter for backup. Carter and Greg hit it off immediately. Mycroft recognizes Carter as a consummate professional who has - in his opinion - a more appropriate level of risk tolerance than Greg or Reese. He, still grudgingly, gives his approval for the Greg as Bait plan.

The plan works! Assassin is captured. Reese says he can take Assassin to a Mexican prison. Mycroft has other plans that involve an inescapable prison on an island. Anthea’s team arrives and takes custody of Assassin for transport to Sherrinford.

Finch and Mycroft have a conversation. Finch is concerned that someone with Mycroft’s position and resources knows about them and the Machine and his access to it (however limited). Finch is worried that Mycroft is going to want a version of the Machine for London. Mycroft assures Finch that while he respects what Finch has accomplished, the Machine is not his style and he prefers getting his intelligence the old fashioned way. He also has no intention of compromising Finch and Reese, but he would like to be able to call them up from time to time. Finch agrees as long as he can call Mycroft when needed. Greg tells Carter that if she ever wants to move to London, he’s got a spot for her at the Met.

They part ways amicably… until next time.

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♦︎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔

Summary: He’d searched for centuries to find the sun summoner. What he never expected was for someone to uncover the sun within him. In which the darkling finds himself on a journey with a powerful Grisha who may just uncover the humanity trapped within.

A/N: So, prior to this, I hadn't written anything in literally two or so months. Consequently, this is rough. Like, hella. However, binging S&B on Netflix has reawakened my love of Ben Barnes and uncovered a love of the Darkling. He's an asshole, yes, but Amby loves her psychologically disturbed characters. Sue me.

I started just writing a few lines last week, and that has turned into over 15,000 words and 50 plus pages of content lagging up my google docs. It's pretty massive, and I've been working on ordering things so the timeline makes sense but honestly, truly, I'm writing this for me, to feed my latest fixation. I don't really expect anyone to read this, hence the lack of tags.

Also, I have never actually read the Shadow and Bone series (book 1 should arrive soon!), so my characterization of characters is based on my research and, largely, the series. Also, a lot of creative liberties. I apologize, again, in advance.

If for some strange reason, anyone would like to be tagged, just let me know, friends. Last thing, it's pronounced Muh-Lay-Nah. I didn't realize until I was like 3K in that the name sounds way too similar to Alina. I know. I'm trash.

Words: 2.2K // Pairings: The Darkling x OC // Warnings: None, yet.

Rewrite The Stars

Protocol is simple.

One either does or does not do something. It’s black or white. No shades of gray to cause confusion.

Typically.

That’s how it should be, at least, and for many, that is the case. Specifically, when dealing with the Darkling.

Never make eye contact, unless spoken to. Speak only when asked a question. Stand at attention at all times. And, of course, never raise your voice. That last one is critical.

Such are just a few of the rules when in the presence of the most powerful grisha to ever live. Countless additional rules are created naturally, but the underlying theme for all is constant: don’t upset him.

Some have dared. Very few have lived.

One might even be considered a repeat offender.

Milena Belarus.

Her name is one known across the lands, but in Ravka, she’s synonymous with one thing: power.

A Grisha with the ability to manipulate fire, inferni, wind, squaller, and perhaps the most dangerous of them all, the heart, heartrender. Never in recent times has a grisha been able to balance multiple gifts, but Milena was no normal Grisha. She was also immortal, having lived over a hundred years, while still appearing as though she was in her mid twenties.

Milena was also known by another name to others: Lieutenant Belarus, second in command of the second army.

It was a role she prided herself on, as she should. It was one of the highest positions a Grisha could attain and an enormous privilege to work directly with the General.

The Darkling.

And thus, where the shades of gray developed.

A few things called many to question, though never aloud, just what exactly the relationship between the Lieutenant and General’s constituted. The first question was raised when Milena first arrived at the Little Palace. A traumatic childhood that constituted loss, hiding her abilities, and forever moving around to avoid persecution caused her to start late in her training.

But when she did, when it was discovered that she was different from the others, the General took her training upon himself, teaching her one on one. She would still train with the other grisha at times, but the private lessons were strange.

The General never trained anyone.

Though, it was argued that Milena was no average Grisha, she was powerful, more so than the others, and that caught the General’s eye.

Then the Keftas. One day, Milena arrived to a Grisha dinner in a black kefta.

No one, aside from the Darkling, had ever worn black.

It was always implied law that the color was reserved for him. Up until that point, at least. Again, though, it was argued that Milena’s power granted her privilege. A lot of privilege.

The most notable one, however, was based upon daily interactions between the general and his lieutenant. She would never outwardly challenge him, but Milena would also never refrain from holding her tongue, especially if she did not agree with his decision.

And that had happened on a couple of occasions.

“Do you really think this the best course of action?”

Her question caused all eyes to land on her, including his, not that she paid that any mind. Her only concern was the wellbeing of her brethren.

She matched his gaze, eyes never leaving his. Stillness overtook the room, no one dared say anything. “You disagree.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s dangerous.”

“We are in war, lieutenant. Everything is dangerous.”

“But not everything needs to result in casualty.” She took it upon herself to move around the war table, adjusting the pawns used to represent their army. “No matter which way we go, we face ambush, but it is the timing of the ambush that makes the difference. The Fjerdans travel in the evening to restock supplies, ammunition. The path will not be as heavily guarded--”

“Yet still dangerous.”

She smiled at him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “We are in war, General. Everything is dangerous.”

The meeting was dismissed shortly after.

Rarely did Milena openly disagree with the General, but the frequency wasn’t what mattered, it was that it happened at all that surprised most.

How could one so easily risk facing the wrath of the Darkling?

And yet, no one had ever witnessed such a thing. No one even knew if it happened, if the General had ever even penalized her for such insolence. It was doubtful, though. One need not be chastised more than once to know not to upset the Darkling.

There were also whispers, rumors even, of Milena seen entering the General’s chambers and not leaving till morning.

And vice versa.

Though for all the thoughts and speculation, neither the General or Lieutenant ever confirmed or denied anything. And most were inclined to believe the leniency granted to Milena was solely based upon respect of her power, her leadership, and her role among the grisha.

She was special and necessary.

In more ways than most realized.

-------

“Me?” Milena was dumbfounded. “He wants to meet me?” Even saying it aloud felt strange. “Why?”

Genya stopped in the middle of digging in her kit, turning to offer an exasperated expression. “Must you really ask that?”

Milena rolled her eyes and stood up from her seat. This was no time to be sitting. “Grisha come here all the time, do they not? What makes me so different?”

“I don’t know, perhaps the fact that you possess the abilities of an inferni, squaller, and a heartrender?” It was sarcastic, no need for a response. “Until now, no one thought that possible. General Kirigan included.”

Milena quieted, focusing her questions toward herself rather than the Tailor sent to prepare her for her meeting with the Black General. She knew that getting out of the meeting was not an option, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about it. She’d heard rumors about the leader of the Grisha, none of them necessarily bad, especially if you were a Grisha, but almost all of them gave her pause. She always had a difficult time holding her tongue, something that often got her in trouble. Would this meeting also bring her trouble?

She knew, very much so, that that depended on her.

“There.”

Milena was so consumed by anxiety and teetering panic that she hadn’t even realized Genya had directed her back to her chair and finished her work. She looked into the mirror and sighed. As of recent, she was finding it harder and harder to recognize her own reflection.

Whoever that was, anyway.

Picking which color Kefta she donned also proved harder than what it should have been. For most Grisha, it was a no brainer, their color was determined by their gift. Milena, though, had options. She eventually decided on the Kefta of the Heartrenders, as it was the ability she’d relied on the most in order to survive.

Every day, Milena seemed to discover new sections of the Little Palace, it’s size even more massive upon exploring the internal, despite the grandiose magnanimity seen from the outside. Today, she discovered the wing of the palace belonging to the Black General.

Whether intentional or not, she couldn’t help but notice the darkening of the decor and dreary coloring the closer they got to his chambers. Once they were outside of his door, she noticed the guards that escorted her stepped back immediately after offering a single knock.

Silence.

She looked from side to side and spoke without thinking. “Are you sure he heard you?”

Seconds later, the door opened and Milena stilled, her spine naturally straightening while her gaze dropped to the floor, though she could feel his eyes burning into her. “He did.” She contemplated looking up but decided against it, for once, keeping her mouth shut. “Leave us.”

A small sense of panic rose as she looked to watch the guards turn and walk in the direction they’d came, leaving her alone.

“Come,” he spoke so calmly, yet she could detect the demanding undertones, leaving no room for argument. “Please.” It was a forced pleasantry, for sure.

Eyes still downward, she waited for him to move to the side, and even then she hesitated but realized she was only delaying the inevitable.

Upon entering, Milena lifted her head, taking in the massive room, the dark decor and equally dark color schemes even more prominent than the path leading to his chambers.

“What is your name?” She swallowed, hearing his footsteps grow closer. He was directly behind her.

“Milena.” Milena’s fingers straightened over the soft material of her Kefta. “Milena Belarus.” Her heartbeat quickened again when he brushed past her, moving from behind her to in front of her. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to look up.

Saints.

Out of all of the rumors, whispers, and stories that she’d heard, none of them included that the Black General was, well, handsome. Sharp and dark features, raven black hair neatly slicked back, and eyes as dark as the abyss his powers commanded. His entire aura and presence emanated power and authority. She could see why his name alone struck fear throughout the lands.

Milena realized she was staring when his brow lifted, though she got the feeling it wasn't because he was upset with her. Rather, intrigued.

“And just what are you, Ms. Belarus?”

She was quiet. Such a short question with infinite possibilities. Up until a few weeks ago, she was nobody, a Grisha hiding among the mass to avoid persecution. Now, she trained and dwelled in a palace with luxuries she never knew existed. Her own reflection seemed like a stranger these days. Did that seem like someone who was in tune with their identity?

So, she answered honestly.

“I don’t know.”

If her answer surprised him, he didn’t show it. He simply moved so he was leaning back against his desk, eyes focused keenly on her. “Are you not Grisha?”

“Well, yes, but--”

“But, what?” Milena looked up again. She recognized the mockery in his tone, and it irked her. She was being honest, and he was being condescending. It was all so unnecessary.

Still, she maintained composure. “I’m not like most Grisha.”

“So, I’ve heard.” The irritation dissipated. Slightly. “Show me.”

She wasn’t expecting that. “Sir?”

“Show me.” He repeated his command, slower, firmer. There was no room for argument.

Despite her garment and in contrast to her preferred method of assault, she realized directing an attack on the leader of the Second Army was far from wise. So, she searched the room and noticed a cracked window on the opposite side. Shutting her eyes and lifting her hands, she focused and directed the wind in that direction, forcing both completely open.

He nodded, unimpressed. “And?” She looked at him, protocol damned. He’d invited her. Surely, he did not expect her gaze to remain on the floor the entire time. “Is that all?”

Irritated, she easily transferred that anger into a sizable ball of flames dancing in her hand. He looked semi impressed, walking up to her, merely inches away. She collapsed the flames. “And finally?”

At that, she hesitated. As a Heartrender, she could do many things, but the most common was an attack of a deadly nature. Of course, she could stop before it reached the level of fatality, but truly, who wanted to risk that with the Darkling?

Milena then looked back at him and stilled. He was smirking, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You think you can hurt me.” It was an accusation, one she was prepared to defend when he spoke again. “I assure you, you can’t.”

This time, her eyes narrowed. He certainly was living up to his vile reputation. What an arrogant prick. Focusing, she moved her arms, straightened in his direction, her hand landing on his chest. She didn’t realize just how close he was. Opening her eyes, she realized his eyes were shut, evident discomfort in his face. He was feeling the effects of her speeding up his heart. However, Milena noticed the room was gradually darkening, shadows creeping up the walls, swallowing the light shining from the window.

She quickly lowered her arms and backed away, breathing suddenly uneven.

His eyes fell on her again, displeasure evident. “Why did you stop?”

She frowned. “Why would I not?”

“You have power. Great power.” He stepped forward, Milena naturally inching back. She’d upset him. “And yet, you hold back.”

Milena tried. She truly had. She’d fought so hard to hold her tongue but between the taunts and the gaslighting, she’d had about enough. “I didn’t realize you wanted me to kill you. Perhaps you should have made that more clear.”

Surprisingly, he was unfazed by her flippancy. “I want you to stop being afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” He said nothing, Milena realizing she’d stepped toward him this time, eyes flaming with determination. “Or anyone.”

Had she been looking instead of diverting her gaze to avoid his judgment, she would have seen the faintest hint of a smile playing upon his face. “We shall see, Ms. Belarus. We shall see.”

[lostintranslaation]

happy (late) ffwf! have you ever written anything or want to write anything based off another piece of media (book, movie, video game, etc)? if so, what? -ambivalentmarvel

happy ffwf!!

I have! the only au I’ve written so far is based off a horrible Christmas movie called Ghosting. the work is called let my love be heard and I was cry-laughing the entire time I was writing it. I would love to write more aus but they’re hard! need to do some more thinking for that lol

[megalony]

After the show

This is a Harry Styles imagine that I hope everyone is going to enjoy, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Summary: Harry and (Y/n) finish up a show and he helps her when she doesn’t feel very well.

Enjoy.

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

With a sigh of utter relief, (Y/n) moved her hand to rub at her neck where a particular muscle was beginning to tighten like it was on a string that was being tightened.

The heels of her shoes clicked against the metal stairs she descended down, trying to hurry and get herself to the dressing room and change before it was time to disappear from this venue and get some much needed sleep. She couldn't have been more thankful that there was no meet and greet after this particular concert, in fact, a lot of the shows on this tour didn't have a meet and greet after the show and it was a God-send to (Y/n). As much as the fans meant to her, the concerts always took every ounce of energy and reserves she had left and trying to keep up the act of pretending to be okay wouldn't be easy after a concert.

It took all (Y/n) had not to grimace and groan in discomfort when the tightening feeling in her neck spread up until it spiralled around her jaw that was becoming very tense as of late. The aching in her jaw felt like someone was hacking away at the bone with a hammer, chipping little pieces off and causing (Y/n) the most pain but also drawing that pain out to make it last.

The ending of the concert couldn't have come soon enough for her liking. Being out there performing to the crowds was something she knew she wanted to do for the rest of her life because it was everything (Y/n) ever wanted. But doing this for the rest of her life didn't seem like a possibility when finishing this current tour was turning into a difficult task in itself.

When (Y/n) turned a sharp left corner and headed into the dressing room backstage she just caught sight of Harry following her and she shivered at the sympathetic look she could see in his eyes.

The pair had been doing this joint tour for two months now and Harry could never quite seem to be able to overcome the sadness that washed through him whenever he saw the pain (Y/n) went through. When he saw her coming off stage looking like she was about to cry from pain was not something he thought he would ever have to witness. It made Harry sad that doing the job she loved gave her so much pain because if singing gave him half as much pain as it did her, he wouldn't know if it was truly worth it.

Harry had done many tours so he knew how much they could take out of a person. He knew it took a lot of energy to go on stage for two hours and dance and sing and be happy and try to interact with everyone. But he didn't know how (Y/n) did it when she had a muscle disease that made singing painful after a while.

(Y/n) had muscular dystrophy which affected the muscles and it made them weak and deteriorate and it affected her heart too. The type she had was affecting her upper back, neck and face first and it would spread in years to come. Knowing it spread very slowly over time didn't help (Y/n) when the disease had gone for her neck and face first which affected her career. She could still speak properly, she could sing, she could move her head and her neck and jaw perfectly. But the disease made her affected muscles tense and pained because they were growing weak and it meant that singing hurt after a while.

The rushes of adrenaline and the music and crowds didn't help her heart either but (Y/n) couldn't quit. Music was her life and performing was what she loved and was good at, in a few years time it might not be a possibility anymore and so she needed to make the most of it now whilst she still could.

"Are you okay?" Harry tried to keep his tone light as he entered the dressing room behind her before shutting the door so no one else would come in or hover around like the crew sometimes did.

He watched (Y/n) look around for some clothes to change into and he almost felt bad for asking but he couldn't help it. She looked like the pain was worse tonight and he wanted to make sure she was okay and see if there was anything he could do to help. They had been a couple for a few months now and it was very clear to Harry from the beginning that (Y/n) didn't like admitting when her condition was flaring up or starting to get her down. He had to guess when she was trying to hide it and wear her down until she finally talked to him and let him help any way he could.

"I'm okay, just want to get back to the hotel."

"You can say if you're in pain you know. Two and a half hours of that surely can't feel amazing." Harry changed his shirt before his eyes locked with (Y/n) who looked like she wanted to admit how much pain she was in but was deciding against it.

She had to put on a mask when on stage and force herself to smile whenever she felt any kind of pain because none of the public or the fans knew of her condition and she wanted it to stay that way. Plus it wouldn't be very nice if she was frowning or hissing in pain or looked angry like she wanted to leave when she was performing a concert.

"Everything feels like it's on fire and my heart is burning from the adrenaline." (Y/n) saw the look of sadness in Harry's eyes because he couldn't imagine how that must feel. He knew the feeling of his heartbeat pulsing in every vein and artery in his body but that didn't hurt, it just made him feel alive. For (Y/n) it felt like each beat of her heart was becoming harder to do and it felt like she was going to be sick or faint.

(Y/n) held her hand out for Harry so they could go back to the tour bus, the sooner she had her medication and got back to the hotel, the better she would feel.

As they headed back out into the corridor and started to head down to get out into the car park, they felt the crew following them. There was their tour manager, a few bodyguards for precaution and a few other crew who had to tag along. It always felt strange to both singers when they were followed by an entourage wherever they went, it didn't seem right when they had both grown up as part of normal society where bodyguards had never been needed up until they became noticed by the world. Not to say they weren't thankful for the crew, it was just strange, even now after years of going through these tours.

When they got down to the last corridor that led out into the car park, Harry turned to look at (Y/n) when she started to slow down

"What's wrong?" Harry leaned his head closer to her own so he could whisper the words in her ear without anyone else listening in but he felt his anxiety growing when (Y/n) looked like she was about to pass out or fall asleep standing up.

A sudden flurry of white spots danced across (Y/n)'s vision when she felt her heart shuddering in her chest, a familiar feeling signalling that the impulses in her heart weren't working properly. Her body gave way for a split second as her mind felt like it had some sort of glitch, as if she was about to pass out but stopped herself at the last second.

Her knees caved in and her head was suddenly too heavy for her to hold up causing her head to snap back which felt like her neck had broken when the muscles started to scream. Her breathing stuttered as a burst of agony flooded through her whole body.

Turning his head so quickly he almost got whiplash, Harry stumbled to a stop when he felt (Y/n) crumble beside him. He watched as her head fell back and her eyes fluttered like she had blacked out for only one second. Harry let go of her hand so he could wrap his arms around her to stop her from falling to the ground. (Y/n) managed to move her shaking hands to grab onto Harry's arms for support and she tried to force her knees to straighten out when Harry gently pulled her up so she was standing again.

He took most of her weight before moving her backwards until she was leaning up against the wall. He turned her head so she was looking up at him, noticing it took her a few seconds to focus her eyes on him.

"(Y/n), you with me?" His tone was concerned yet sweet like it was dipped in honey. He leaned his head down a little due to the height difference so he could look at her properly, brushing his thumb across her cheek as she managed to nod, lips twitching from the pain the movement caused in her neck.

"J-just my heart." She responded, breathing through the words as Harry watched her come back to Earth rather quickly. In any other situation Harry would have commented on how she spoke like that was a normal thing, but then again this was sort of a normal occurrence for her.

Harry knew he needed to get her back on the tour bus so she could get her meds and get her back to the hotel quickly.

"Do you think you can walk, we need to get you to the bus."

(Y/n) took a deep breath before nodding and she pressed her head into Harry's shoulder when he took her weight again, pulling her from the wall and into his chest. His arm secured around her waist keeping her glued to his side as he guided her down the corridor with everyone else following behind, unsure what was happening.

Harry opened the door in front of them to get them outside, noticing some of the production crew were already outside and waiting nearby or already on the tour bus. They all looked over at the pair with rather confusing looks when they noticed how unwell (Y/n) looked. Harry glanced wearily at the crowds that were beginning to flood around them outside, clearly wanting an autograph or to have a chance to meet them both which clearly wasn't going to be an option tonight. He felt a surge of relief when the crew seemed to understand something was wrong and they made sure there was a barrier so none of the fans could get close to the tour bus.

It didn't take them long to get to the tour bus and after taking it slow up the steps to get inside, Harry kept his arms tightly around (Y/n) as he guided her down the bus. The crew on the bus started to crowd around them, asking if they needed anything or what was wrong and it made Harry want to snap. Surely they knew (Y/n) wasn't very well but Harry and the crew were the only ones who knew of (Y/n)'s condition so it wasn't as if they hadn't seen her in a similar state to this before.

"It's alright, let's just get back to the hotel." Harry stated, making sure to keep any annoyance out of his voice because he didn't want to be rude.

He sat down with (Y/n) at the seats at the very back of the bus, watching with sad eyes when she started to subtally shake which made him shake when she wrapped her arms around him like she was trying to disappear.

Their eyes met when he held her hands and moved them to rest in her lap, his eyes telling her that it was alright as he kissed her temple. Harry's eyes told everyone else on the bus to leave (Y/n) alone and to stop pestering her with their persistent questions of 'are you alright' and 'what can I do'. He knew what he was doing and them fussing around her wasn't going to make things better because they weren't doing anything to help, they were only making her anxious and overwhelmed.

He watched (Y/n) in slight pain as she curled up in the seat against the window, tears silently falling down her face as she watched where Harry was going.

The first time Harry had witnessed (Y/n) be in pain from her irregular heartbeats or when she was in pain from her tense, sore muscles he didn't know what to do to help. But now he had come to know which medications she was on and what they did and he tried to figure out different methods and things to do that could help alleviate her symptoms and her pain.

Walking over to the seats that held all of the bags, Harry rummaged around, grabbing the small black bag with the rough exterior material that scratched at the skin. He unzipped it and grabbed one of the many medication bottles before he grabbed a bottle of water and an ice pack from the cooling bag beside him.

Harry sat back down beside (Y/n) and placed the bottled water on the table before he undid the medication bottle and took out two beta-blockers which would help calm down (Y/n)'s heart impulses and muscles. (Y/n) gratefully took the tablets from him and took them with a large gulp of water before she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve to rid her face of the tears she had started to shed.

(Y/n)'s eyes darted up to look at Harry when she felt a sudden shock of cold on her neck. He had his right arm resting o the back of the seat they were leaning against as his left hand was holding the ice pack to her neck to try and calm down the tense muscle. It was a ritual for (Y/n) to grab an ice pack after every show and sit with it plastered to her neck for the ride back to whatever hotel they were staying at. She hardly went anywhere without the cooling pack that was a medication in itself to relieve the pain she always seemed to be getting now as medication simply wasn't doing enough for her weakened muscles.

Leaning over (Y/n) rested her head on Harry's chest just under his chin, relaxing against him when he said nothing in protest against her actions. His hand keeping the ice pack pressed to her neck as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Neither of them could wait until they got back to the hotel and got some peace and quiet.