#i see visions of horrible timelines every day

[gmos]

really glad im not a cis guy bc i wouldve become a real canvas jacket+beanie type and listen to bear hands/catfish and the bottlemen/older cage the elephant/ and maybe jon bellion/robert delong/andrew mcmahon and the wilderness when im sad. and i would try to go to school for journalism but end up as a photographer and i would post sad edits on vsco about how guys either want to talk to me or have sex with me but never both

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

pls ANYTHING with Aaron Warner. I'm literally living for him and I love your writing.

never go out of style

aaron warner x fem! reader

after a bit of convincing, you decide to let aaron join you and juliette shopping. maybe you should've thought twice on that.

(no specific timeline, but kind of hinted towards after the series ends)

a/n: dw bff i understand ur obsession 🫶ik you guys are waiting for pt 2 of my other aaron work but i'm having some issues with it so i wanted to whip up a quick lil fic for you guys and it also helps with my writing blocks. also in this they all kinda of live together in a base like location still. shorter than my other stuff but hope you enjoy and tysm for supporting my work !!! again i envision hayden as aaron but fancast who u like !!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: clingy aaron, suggestive content, aaron and juliette banter, some grammar errors probably

the sun peaked from the window of your room, shining a light directly toward where you slept peacefully on the bed.

your peace was disrupted by a loud ringing sound coming from your clock on the night stand.

you groaned as you began regaining consciousness from your deep slumber. with your still bleary vision you glanced at the clock, 9 am. you rubbed your eyes and let out a yawn, knowing it was time to get up for the day.

you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, only to be brought back down by a strong arm next to you – face pulled forward into a broad bare chest. for a moment you’d forgotten about your sleeping boyfriend next to you.

“mm, no.” mumbles the man next to you. to make his point cleaer, he slid you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck and naked shoulder comfortably.

both you and aaron rarely ever slept with shirts on. it wasn’t always due to inherently sexual reasons, more-so it’s for aaron’s sake because he’d always make a huge fuss about the fabrics getting in the way of your skins touching directly. aaron is a huge fan of touch, well only your touch. anyone else’s he’d be disgusted by.

much to your bewilderment, he originally wanted to the both of you to slumber bare. much protest came from you for various reasons, including in the case of an emergency everyone needed to evacuate swiftly, the two of you could potentially land in a horribly embarrassing situation.

so, you both settled for a tops off only kind of deal. you were lucky he even let you sleep with your bra on. although, when he was needy or wanted to be a cheeky bastard, he’d take it off in your sleep.

“aaron…” you said in a knowing tone. he was like this almost every morning where you attempted to get out of bed with him. it was really cute, but also really annoying when you had to be somewhere, like right now.

“sorry can’t hear you, very tired. maybe try again in an hour or two.” aaron was very obviously not asleep; but he’s avoiding your pleas of freedom.

you rolled your eyes at his behavior. you couldn’t wait any longer or you’d be late to meet with juliette. so you begun to try and push a hand against aaron’s chest to free yourself of his cuddle prison.

aaron in reaction only squeezed you impossibly tighter. you weren’t weak in strength in any means, but if it’s a competition between you and him; he’ll win everytime.

“c’mon baby, i got places to go.” you tried to coo him into releasing you with a pet name. aaron absolutely loved when you used pet names for him.

“shhh… teddy bears don’t speak.” aaron responds, and puts a finger over your lips for emphasis. man, he was really stubborn this morning.

with the way you are being held hostage, you thought being called a teddy bear wasn’t far off.

that leaves you to your last resort — puppy dog eyes.

you look up at aaron and give him your best pleading eyes, “you know i’d love nothing more than to just stay in bed with you, but please aaron, i really do have to leave.” you plant a quick peck on his lips for extra effect.

aarons eyes soften, you could see he was almost cracking and close into relinquishing his hold on you. so close.

but then the tables turn, he gives you a sad look before saying, “you’re always gone these days doing something with juliette or kenji, is it so bad that i just wish to spend some time with you even if it’s just sleeping in our bed.”

crap, he did a reserve and now pulled puppy dog eyes on you. and worst part is it was working, especially with the sad little voice he was giving.

although, his statement wasn’t all that true, you spend more than enough time with aaron, and barely enough with your friends. but of course in his dramatic mind, any few hours that aren’t spent together felt like a week to him. but you doubt you could even properly compute this argument back to aaron, not while he was looking at you like an injured animal.

juliette was going to kill you for your next words, “how about you come along with me today then.”

aaron face changes tune immediately — a big grin makes it way onto his face. he pulls your face to his and plants various pecks all over your face, making you giggle at his excitement.

it was really hard for you to deny warner at times, he could be really convincing. or maybe you were just easily susceptible to his puppy dog antics.

“well, what are you waiting for, let’s get ready.”

aaron finally releases you and moves to get up from the bed. not even giving you a moment to stretch, he goes on to your side of the mattress and in one movement scoops you you in his arms and walks in the direction to the bathroom.

aaron made quick work of putting you on the counter and getting the water facet to the shower head turned on. he was obviously very eager to join you on whatever you and juliette were going to do.

the two of you showered together. aaron being the clingy man he is, loves when you bith shower together. he likes to wash and scrub your hair for you, lathering it in soap and shampoo. you admit that’s your favorite part because it tends to feel like a nice head massage.

however, showering together can be inconvenient at times because you are sometimes in a rush or just rather be alone. but then he gives you a sad face and you feel bad. even when you try to do it alone while he’s busy, he will manage to worm his way into your space.

aaron helped dry you both off and, ever the fashionista he is, even picked out an outfit for you to wear. he has a habit of doing that, and you can’t deny the pieces he chooses are fabulous.

if you both happen to subtly match, like right now, he’ll claim it was a coincidence — which you do not believe there is any coincidence with that man.

you left to meet up with juliette while aaron finished getting ready, so you could tell her the slight change in your plans for the day.

juliette was longing on her phone in the common place when you saw her. once she noticed you she git up and approached you.

“hey, you ready to go?” julietted asked you as she got her purse from the place she was sitting before.

you chuckled nervously, “uh, you see, about that-“

“so where are we headed off to?” a voice intercepted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder .

your boyfriend had perfect timing as usual.

juliette didn’t let the ‘we’ go unnoticed.

she furrowed her brows, “im, sorry did you just say we?” giving you a quick glance in confirmation.

“oh, y/n didnt tell you i was joining you ladies on whatever it is your doing?” aaron questioned with fame in innocence laced in his voice.

the smug jerk definitely knew you hadn’t got to that yet.

juliette turned her gaze toward you, making a discontented face, “no. it seems she hadn’t informed me of this.”

you winced and gave her a sheepish shrug, trying to say ‘sorry i’m taking my boyfriend along and im springing it up on you right now cus he didn’t even give me a chance to tell you.’

juliette rolled her eyes, "does he even know what we're doing?" she raised a brow in a questioning manner.

aaron once again decided to butt in, looking down in your direction, "yeah, i'd also like to know what it is the three of us are out to do today." putting extra emphasis on the three, likely to annoy juliette further.

oh god. it just dawned on you what juliette and yourself had planned to do today. you realized how much a catastrophe this was a bout to be.

you glanced at juliette, who you deemed also had come to this conclusion.

you turned to face aaron, "we're going shopping."

an hour later.

"nope. absolutely not, change."

you rolled your eyes, you were so close to strangling the beautiful man that was aaron warner. if he spewed out one more opinion on your fashion choices, you were gonna lose your mind.

just as you expected. disaster. you really should've known better than to bring bring along your very honest boyfriend who happens to be obsessed with fashion himself.

in theory, it sounded cute, trying on clothes and showing your best friend and boyfriend all the cute outfits. the avergae boyfriend would say you look great in anything, making you all giddy and happy.

but you didn't have the average boyfriend, you had aaron warner.

to his credit, he had behaved himself on the car ride over (only after stubbornly refusing to drive anything that wasn't his BMW.) he even kept his comments to himself when you entered the store.

the moment you picked up an item of clothing, it was as if the crack in the dam of his mind had finally broken. he started spewing every possible critique that he thought of.

"no, that color will wash you out."

"it's cute you think i'll let you go out like that."

"put that horrendous looking shirt down down and walk away."

"im saying this as a loving boyfriend, are you blind, or do you actually think that's wearable."

juliette was in no way spared from his fashion "advice."

"i'm shooting myself if you pick up another pair of denim blue-jeans."

"i hope your horrible sense of fashion isn't contagious."

both you and juliette ignored him to an extent, she occasionally snarkily replied and then picked something he would hate purposely. aaron eventually gave up on as he put "salvaging the one good percent of juliette's closet" and focused all his attention toward you, much to your misfortune.

you loved aaron's sense of fashion, you really did, but you didn't find it very enjoyable everytime you picked up an item you thought was cute, just for him to snatch it from your grasp

another thing, when it was time to try on your items - aaron refused to wait outside the dressing room, he was very persistent on getting in the dressing rooms with yo he even told the worked in charge of the fitting rooms 'it was nothing he hadn't seen before.'

you gave him smack on the arm for that suggestive remark.

so, now the two of you were cramped into a small dressing room, not that aaron minded - the closer the two of you were, the better.

you did enjoy how he doted on you - zipping up your dressing, helping you put on and remove clothes, planting a small kiss on the top of your shoulder whenever you were dressed.

he would sit down on the small chair in the dressing room and take in your attire, "now give me a little twirl." he teasingly commanded manner.

you shook your head with a grin, then spun around in the flowy fabric of the light pink sundress you were trying on, adorned with small flower embrodiery - it was an "aaron approved" dress on the rack of course.

when you met with his eyes again, he looked as if he were in a trance, hypnotized by your entire being. he was enticed by the clothing that draped you, examining it thoroughly. your face flamed up under his loving gaze.

"well, what do you think?" you asked a bit anxiously, since he hadn't uttered a word since the clothing was put on you.

it was ridiculous to be nervous about your boyfriend's approval, but alas, you couldn't help it when the boyfriend in question is aaron warner.

he was brought back by your soft voice and stared up to you, putting a hand on your hip - bringing you closer to him.

"i think..." he paused, standing up from the small cushion, and cupping your face with his hands, "we should buy it in every color they have."

aaron then started sloppily covering your face in kisses, each one after the next. you attempt to weakly push him away, not putting much force into it.

"aaron you're going to smudge my makeup!" you cooly scolded.

aaron looks down to you, leaning his face closer to yours, "my love, if i always cared about smudging your makeup, i'd never be able to kiss you." he replies smoothly.

little moments like this truly made all of the mayhem of the day worth it. mostly.

"now, love, hurry up and try the next one on. i chose that one myself."

"but juliette hasn't even seen this one yet." you brought up your best friend, who was trying on her on choices a few doors down.

"who cares what juliette's opinion is, her fashion taste is a worn out t-shirt and jeans." aaron sassily retorted.

"i heard that you asshole!" juliette bellowed over to aaron from the inside of her dressing room.

aaron remains unfazed by her disruption, "ignore her, put on the next one."

you give aaron a glare at his behavior to juliette, but comply go to the door in your room to get the piece he keeps referring to.

you gape at the fabric hung before you, doing a double-take to ensure you had seen it correctly. oh you're boyfriend was sly.

you hold the clothing in your hand and turn to face him, "aaron, this is lingerie."

he smirks, "i suppose it is."

heat was beginning to rise from your neck to your cheeks, you played it off with a scoff, "i'm not changing into this unless you turn around."

aaron gives you a disapproving look, as if to say 'seriously?' - "nothing i haven't seen before."

"just turn!" you scolded at him.

"alright love, no need to get so feisty." he teased then finally turn his back to you. you hated when he teased you terribly. you almost gave him a smack on his back for that, but decided against it.

you started removing the clothing on your body, reminding yourself to show juliette the dress later. you grabbed the lingerie aaron picked, it was green colored lace two piece set - the top had lace on the cups, a corset like style for the waist with 3 light green ribbons going down, and a mesh fabric with lace trimming the edges draped from the bottom of your rib area and covered your butt almost fully. the underwear was a simple lace thong the same color as the top.

it was beautiful, and you shouldn't have expected any less since your loving fashion expert boyfriend chose it.

once the lingerie was on, you looked at yourself in the long vertical mirror placed in the center of the room.

you admit you thought you look pretty good in the set. you had a few nightwear pieces, but those looked plain in comparison to the on you had on.

your noticed aaron's back in the mirror and suddenly remembered he was waiting for you to put on the lingerie.

your smooths down the top with your hands, then turned to aaron's direction, "ok, you can turn around now."

aaron mutter a small 'finally' before twisting to see you. the first thing he did was stare at you, his jaw slacking and eyes widening.

he was silent for so long, you started to get insecure if he thought it looked bad on you. you nervously laugh, "do you like it or-"

the question went unfinished because in an instant aaron took one large step towards you, pushed you against the mirror and passionately kissed you. you were thrown so off guard, you stumbled with your feet, stabilizing yourself by placing you hands on aaron's shoulders.

aaron's hands started wandering down your body, leaving goosebumps on your skin. aaron's lips were almost devouring yourself, kissing you with need and eagerness.

you were the first to pull away for air with a grin, aaron's lips followed yours, not ready to end the kiss. you had to gently put a hand on the side of his face to pull him back enough to let you breathe.

the haze that was clouding you for a moment cleared - reminding yourself you still were in the dressing room.

the first thing you did was laugh, then ask, "so i'm gonna assume you like it?"

aaron leans his face towards your, pressing your foreheads together and whispers, "love, if we don't pack up and go pay soon, i'm going to commit some horrible acts to you right here in this dressing room."

later

"well, i can say with full confidence this was the worst shopping trip, in the history of shopping trips to ever exist." juliette announced to the entire car as she drove back to the base.

"maybe next time you shouldn't come along then." aaron retorted from the backseat where the both of you were seated. (aaron was insistent on both of you in the back instead of one in the passenger seat and one in the back seat.)

"you're the one who wasn't even suppose to come! y/n only brought you along because you're a clingy boyfriend."

"i don't know what you mean by that, i'm not clingy." aaron defended, crossing his arms over his chest, like a stubborn child would.

you couldn't help, but let out a small laugh, you tried covering up with a cough. aaron snapped his head in your direction, furrowing his brow, "do you think i'm clingy?"

"no- well, maybe a little.. but it's not a bad thing." you tried to reassure him. your boyfriend's clinginess could be a little much, but honestly the feeling of being loved so much by someone was worth any small inconveniences.

aaron tugs you closer to his seat, wrapping an arm around you. "well, it's not my fault i love you so much" he tells you, giving a small peck on your lips, "if anything i'm reeling in at least half of my clinginess."

you raise a brow at this, not quite believing that, "i can't imagine how you could possibly top your regular behavior."

"oh, i can always be much worse, love" he cockily says leaning his head down closer to yours.

juliette interrupted your shared moment with a comment, reminding you both of her presence in the front seat, "i'm gonna throw up from all this sappiness."

aaron as always was quick to come up with a cynical reply,"not our fault you and kent have the emotional connection of a brick."

"hey!"

[dullgecko]

I always forget about Adaine so have a big list

Adaine's favourite food is pancakes because she'd never had them with her parents and Jawbone's are to DIE for

She gets migraines because of her visions

Sometimes she has nightmares of visions of every time something her friends have done could have gone horribly wrong (usually where it would have resulted in death)

Adaine used to get night terrors before starting her meds

Adaine makes very good scones

She is pen pals with Ayda, even when they're in the same room

She carries around extra food because once she did research into Orcs and discovered how (unintentionally) underfed Gorgug is. She began holding even more when Fabian collapsed during Junior Year bc he couldn't find any fried rice for a couple days and was too stressed and busy to ask anyone for food

She is the classic worrywart. Her and Kristen (the only member of the Bad Kids you should trust with children besides Gorgug) bring extra supplies when they go on adventures

Her favourite time of day is midnight because of the constellations

Adaine's favourite food is pancakes because she'd never had them with her parents and Jawbone's are to DIE for

Its the love, she can TASTE it. Honestly she loves anything Jawbone cooks for them, but pancakes were the first and hold a special place in her heart.

She gets migraines because of her visions

She knows a vision is coming because she'll start getting migraine auras first, then once the vision has passed she'll often get the full blown 'someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery' headaches. Not every time though, Jawbone takes her to a doctor to get some decent painkillers which she takes when she starts getting coloured blobs floating around in her vision and it usually helps. Sometimes though it might as well have been nothing. Her and Riz are often migraine misery buddies, but she's not small enough to zip herself into a dark backpack and ride them out most of the time.

Sometimes she has nightmares of visions of every time something her friends have done could have gone horribly wrong (usually where it would have resulted in death)

Weird side effect of being able to gaze down the possible paths of the future. Sometimes while trancing she'll jump tracks and accidentally look at the future of a different timeline where things have gone horribly wrong. Her least favorite one so far was a vision of the night on Laviathan where Fabian was possessed, he skipped over the Hangman and stabbed Riz, and by the time anyone got into the room it was too late and they lost two friends.

Adaine used to get night terrors before starting her meds

She still does, in a way, but at least she can distinguish them as visions and not reality anymore. Elves arent even SUPPOSED to dream so her parents probably clocked on that some oracle schenanigans were going on before the previous one even died if she had them as a small kid.

Adaine makes very good scones

Baking, Wizardry. Same thing. She grates up apples into them and puts cinnamon sugar on top.

She is pen pals with Ayda, even when they're in the same room

They sometimes write letters to eachother while sitting next to eachother. They get sealed up in envelopes, exchanged, but they're not allowed to read them until later. Thats just how it goes.

She carries around extra food because once she did research into Orcs and discovered how (unintentionally) underfed Gorgug is. She began holding even more when Fabian collapsed during Junior Year bc he couldn't find any fried rice for a couple days and was too stressed and busy to ask anyone for food

If she hasnt used her jacket much that day, she'll spend a couple charges every night pulling out high-calorie ration bars. Gorgug gets one every morning as a second breakfast and he's bemused somewhat the first time. Its to the point where his stomach growls every time he see's Adaine now which the whole group finds hilarious.

She is the classic worrywart. Her and Kristen (the only member of the Bad Kids you should trust with children besides Gorgug) bring extra supplies when they go on adventures

She has anxiety, its a coping mechanism. If your brain is constantly telling you of all the bad things that could possibly happen you try to shut it up by being /prepared/.

Her favourite time of day is midnight because of the constellations

She loves the stars, thats how she got into divination in the first place. The view of the sky isnt so great in Elmville because of light polution, but after her four hours of trancing she'll usually spend a couple hours stareing at the sky.

[chaoxfix]

Silver 35? :]

here ya go!

///

The day is saved, Sonic’s friends are all safe, Eggman’s retreated, the rubble is being cleared, and the sun is even coming back out. All in all, a 10/10 adventure, if Sonic does say so himself. 

He thinks so, anyways, until he spots Silver slumped over against a chunk of concrete. 

Alarmed, Sonic skids to a stop and whips a u-turn. 

“Silver!” he exclaims, ducking down until he’s in Silver’s field of vision. Or, he would be, if Silver wasn’t squeezing his eyes shut like he’s injured. “What’s wrong, are you hurt? I thought you said you were fine when Amy was taking a head count-” 

“I’m not hurt.” Silver says it like he means it, but he also says it like he’s barely managing to get the words out, so sue him if Sonic doesn’t believe him. “I’m seriously. You can go home, Sonic, I’ll find my own way back.” 

“Sure, but how are you supposed to return to the future if you can’t even sit up straight?”

Silver groans and rubs his head. “Can you quiet down?” 

Sonic’s ears twitch. He hadn’t thought he was being that loud, but he does, at least, honor the request. “Okay,” he says, quieter. He looks around for enemies that might have snuck up on them, but no luck. “...Why are we whispering?” 

Silver groans and rubs his head more vigorously, at his temples. “Why are you saying anything at all?”

It sounds like Silver is just being rude again, at first. But… he’s clearly in pain. Sonic frowns, trying to puzzle it out. He taps his foot, irritated with himself for not automatically knowing the answer. He’s sure he knows the solution to this one, but what…? 

“Do you have a concussion?” Sonic asks, in a very tiny whisper. He’s not really sure how to treat them, seeing as he has an incredibly durable head and so do Knuckles and Amy, and he’s never, ever, ever let anything get close enough to Tails or Cream’s heads to risk finding out if they’re as durable yet. 

“A concussion-?” Silver finally blinks his eyes open to try and peer up at Sonic in pure confusion, but he’s still squinting in the afternoon light. He winces, then squeezes them shut just as fast. “No, it’s not a concussion. It’s just a headache, I’m fine.” 

Oh. 

Well, Sonic thinks, that’s a lot simpler. 

The only person he knows who gets regular headaches is Vanilla – Sonic always figured it was just something people got when they got old. Silver’s younger than he is, but maybe it has something to do with him being from the future. 

Or, he realizes a beat too late, having powers that stem from his mind. Huh. 

Fortunately, Sonic knows just the thing for headaches. “Wait right there,” he says, in that same quiet voice. “I’ll be right back with just the thing.” 

He doesn’t wait for Silver to tell him not to bother – “It’s no use!” is what he thinks he hears as he runs off, but that could just be his mind playing tricks on him. Instead, he pops into the nearest nurse station and grabs what Cream always gets her mom when Vanilla says she has a headache. 

Ice, earmuffs, water, and an eye-mask. Sonic thinks Vanilla often takes some medication, but he’s not sure what type, and also Silver’s got a pretty horrible immune system so he doesn’t want to risk giving him something that’ll make him feel worse on accident. 

When Sonic returns with an armful of supplies, Silver is laying on the concrete. Sonic can’t help but feel guilty if this really is from Silver overusing his powers. 

Every time Silver comes from the future, it’s always to help with a crisis – or to prevent something bad from turning into a crisis. He might have a personality that Sonic can’t quite figure out – maybe it’s as changeable as that timeline of his, who knows – but he’s still dependable in a pinch. 

Sonic just hopes that these will help him feel better. 

Sonic drops into a crouch beside him, then carefully slips on the earmuffs. “For the noise,” he says, still in a quieter voice than before. Silver looks up at him, baffled, but when he winces at the light, Sonic presses the eye-mask into his hands, for Silver to put on himself. 

“Water will help, and the ice will make it feel a little better too. I made sure the ice pack is extra durable so you won’t prick it open,” he adds, noting the way Silver’s front quills stick straight up. “Just try it, alright? I dunno what fancy stuff you use for headaches in the future, but hopefully this is good enough for now.” 

“We- well, it depends on the timeline,” Silver says, reaching for the ice pack first. He lets out a sigh of relief once it hits his head, shoulders immediately losing their tension. “But… in the one I just came from, this is a lot better.” 

Sonic quirks a smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, okay? Unless you’d rather I speed you off somewhere a little less, uh…” He gestures vaguely to the rubble around them both. 

Silver waves a hand, then reaches up and ties the eye-mask around his head. “No, this is perfect, I think this rubble is comfier than the concrete bed I was using before… Thanks, Sonic.” 

Sonic grins and shakes his head in bemusement, though Silver can’t see it. “Happy to help. And drink that water!”

“I will, I will.” To prove it, Silver opens the recyclable plastic bottle, and tips it to his mouth. 

Deciding that Silver’s already well on his way to feeling better, Sonic speeds off. And, just for Silver, even chooses not to leave a Sonic boom in his wake until he’s a few miles away. Just to be nice. 

[bonefall]

BB!Goosefeather

[ID: Goosefeather from Warrior Cats in the Better Bones AU. He is a round, wolflike cat with tiny, unreadable, deep blue eyes. In the second image he's caught in a vision, signified by swirling eyes and a nosebleed]

I've always had a very different take on Goosefeather than the wider fandom. In particular, his final scene with Bluefur at the end of Bluestar's Prophecy has always FASCINATED me. She's mourning the loss of her kits, and Goose comes up, almost as if he's going to comfort her like anyone else...

But his tune is very different from the rest of the Clan. He reminds her that the kits were not part of fate, and ergo, her own choice. This screed has this intriguing taste of bitterness, and it immediately made Goose one of my favorite WC characters.

Was that resentment? Smug satisfaction? What was behind those words, Goosefeather?

Did you know that the raid you sent your sister on was going to kill her? Did the herbs even need to be destroyed? What if the only vision he'd received was that Moonflower had to die?

It's one thing if he's just, you know, plagued by visions that will come no matter what, and he's Sad About It. I do love the Cassandra type characters in fiction, but... the idea that he's DEDICATED to the prophecies that haunt him, that it's both a curse and a commitment, a damnation and a destiny... it gives me... gOOSEBUMPS HEYOO

AND SO! Better Bones Goosefeather is a situational antagonist in nearly every story he's in. He believes firmly that to defy fate only creates worse outcomes, that you have to kill a mouse to have a meal. More than just following the 'will of StarClan,' he believes that a prophecy is more than just a warning. To him, they are instructions.

(More info below the cut!)

In Bluestar's Flowers, he receives a vision of Moonflower dying in a WindClan raid. He knew she had to die, and so, he got her killed. This is not revealed until near the end of the book.

At the same time, he will occasionally (and uncharacteristically, Featherwhisker will note) help Bluemoon escape being caught when she sneaks out to meet up with the Forget-me-Not friend group.

Bluemoon's kits are children of prophecy... or, one of them is.

Mosslight is fated to become a grand hero, and overthrow the horrible tyrant, Thistlestar.

Goosefeather will ensure the propagation of both sides of this prophecy. Thistleclaw must become leader. Mosskit must be born.

But, in the end, Bluemoon's love is stronger than destiny. She will NEVER let Thistleclaw become leader, she will NEVER let him command innocent people like Rosetail and Thrushpelt into early graves, and she will NEVER let him brutalize the Clans of her friends.

Goosefeather thought it was a checkmate when she was in the nursery with the three kittens, clearly ineligible for deputyship after accusation of having halfclan kittens (Thistleclaw's questioning violating the Queen's Rights) and his personal endorsement of him for deputy.

he was WRONG

Bluemoon brought them to RiverClan, the hero of destiny dying in the process, cinching the deputyship by a hair's length.

With great tragedy, with great cost, with great sacrifice, Bluestar WON.

The thread of prophecy was severed so hard that Goosefeather never received another vision ever again. Nothing would be the same again, he was living in a new world and a new time.

He lived the last of these days quietly, reflecting on his life, his actions, considering... if all those times where he'd Done What Had To Be Done, if it was for nothing.

Goosefeather is allowed a peaceful death, unburdened by the buzzing curse of prophecy, slipping into his sleep in a doomed timeline that yet persists.

DESIGN STUFF

I need these visions to look painful. I want to drive it home that these are hurting him. So I gave him nosebleeds.

He's committed to the thing that hurts most, because he can't imagine another way

symbolism

His family carries a wolf motif, this is very important because I said so. Awoo, even.

You can see how Goosefeather's big fat tummy is present in his relatives, Sorreltail and Dovewing.

He reminds me of Winnie the Pooh but as an evil wizard. He's got a haunted plushie kind of vibe.

like a teddy ruxpin, even

And lastly this is unrelated to everything, but when I was designing Skywatcher I kept thinking about the two of them having a wizard battle. I just think that is very funny and it is a thought I am now sharing with all of you. <3

[ID: Wizard battle meme]

Skywatcher and Goosefeather at Bingo Night after the Skypelt/Silverpelt reunification in BB!AVoS

[lxstfathier]

Midnight Sky

Master! Luke Skywalker x Padawan! Reader

Summary: noticing a sudden change in your behavior, master Luke decides to have a private talk with you at night. But it turns out way different than expected.

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, mutual masturbation, age-gap, slight angst, Kylo being a bully.

A/N: this is not canon, i just wanted to have fun without worrying about timelines and all that. Luke is supposed to be in his late 40s and the reader in her early 20s, but you’re free to choose any age you want. Hope you all enjoy this!! 💗✨

Jedi training is hard. Specially when you’re a padawan under the wing of the one and only Luke Skywalker.

All of his students are expected to be perfect in every single aspect; from the impeccable robes, polished boots, well groomed hair, and clean lightsaber hilt, to the excellent behavior, calm and elegant in any situation, never faltering with fear or anger.

Everyone is just like that. Except you.

Ben Solo likes to mock you almost every single day for that reason, laughing at your shyness and weak combat skills. And you try you best to find a justification for it. Maybe it is because him, and all the other students, come from powerful families with a strong jedi bloodline, and you’re just a random girl from a far away planet who happened to be born force-sensitive for some weird reason.

Or maybe it’s because you’re not meant to be a jedi. Who knows, whatever it is, you can’t help but feel a little bit upset seeing all your classmates improving while you’ve been stuck in the same place for weeks.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting under a tree at lunch time like you always do, sharing a meal with Grogu, away from all the other loud teenagers around the bonfire who can’t stop laughing at their own stupid jokes. And if it wasn’t for the little green kid, you would feel completely alone.

But you’re really wrong if you think that Grogu is the only one who cares about you.

Master Luke has been watching you for a while, sensing your negative emotions and troubled thoughts, growing worried with that sudden change in your demeanor, thinking about what would be the best form to approach and help a young girl like you.

“Patu?” Grogu says, offering you the last roasted frog, pulling you away from the deepest corner of your mind.

“For me? oh, thank you so much Din Grogu, i appreciate it” you say with a smile, taking the little frog snack that is supposed to be only for him, but you put it in you mouth anyway, savoring the weird taste and crispy texture.

And you’re too into it that you don’t even notice Luke walking in your direction until a pair of black boots appears in your peripheral vision, scaring you slightly, feeling you heart beat faster as you lift up your gaze to look at your cloaked master.

Are you in trouble? you don’t think so, but before you can ask something he speaks first.

“I want you to meet me at midnight, by the pond. It’s not necessary to wear you robes or bring your lightsaber, i just want talk. Understood?”

Oh hell, you’re definitely in some trouble now.

“Yes, master” you answer, trying to stay calm as your mind overthinks all the possible scenarios. And after hearing those affirmative words, he turns around to go back with the rest, leaving you there with teary eyes.

You know that you’re not his best student, so you’re probably getting expelled from his Jedi Academy. Everything is ruined and your effort has been in vain. But you don’t want to upset Grogu and cry in front of him, so you do your best to hold your tears and fake a smile, letting him eat the rest of the food while you just sip on your drink.

After that, the evening goes fast, doing your usual routine of meditating alone, read on your holo-pad, take a quick shower and brush your teeth. Still with the horrible anxiety sensation in your chest.

When midnight finally comes, you just put on an oversized shirt and small shorts, adequate for the warm weather. Why would you care about wearing something nice if you’re getting kicked out anyway?.

So you get out of your room, walking under the moonlight, admiring all the pretty luminous insects flying above the grass as a way to distract yourself from your own nervousness.

Once you get to the pond, master Luke is already there, sitting on a fallen log. And you feel even more anxious than before, but you need to stay calm under any circumstance, remember?, so you take a deep breath, reuniting the courage to walk up to him.

“Take a seat, young padawan” he says, motioning for you to sit on the ground in front of him for a quick conversation.

You follow his orders, getting comfortable on the soft grass, playing nervously with your own sweaty hands until he finally decides to speak again.

“Do you know why i told you to come here?”

“To expel me out of the jedi academy? maybe?” You answer in a low voice, accepting your fate.

But he just smirks. Something he doesn’t do often.

“Why would i do such thing? you’re the best student here.”

For a moment you can’t believe what you just heard. He called you his best student. And you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel, your emotions are mixed, you’re happy but extremely doubtful at the same time.

Maybe he’s saying it out of pure pity. There’s no way that you’re the best when all the others have an excellent conduct and fierce combat skills that could put yours to shame.

“I don’t think so” you say, shaking your head. “I’m behind everyone else here. They all see me as an easy target, and Ben likes to remind me everyday that i’m too weak and fearful to deserve being trained by his uncle.”

Suddenly, that friendly smirk on his face disappears and a stern expression takes its place, noticing the way he clenches his jaw, along with a tightening of his gloved fist, clearly unpleased with the way his nephew has been treating you.

“Don’t listen to those teens. They’re still kids, they talk hurtful nonsense just for fun” Luke says, with his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward to make eye contact. “And they also have a lot to learn from me. All of them are reckless and aggressive most of the time, thinking that their worth is only found in how many combats they win. But not you. You’re different. You’re quiet and mindful, and that’s what makes you a great jedi. So please, don’t believe their words.”

Out of everything you thought he would tell you tonight, this definitely wasn’t it. And before you know it, a warm tear is rolling down your cheek.

You don’t know what to tell him. Perhaps you don’t need even need to, cause soon you feel him getting closer, with a big hand cradling your face as his thumb wipes the wet trail.

It’s weird. But you like it, you crave more, getting lost in his gentle touch and beautiful facial features illuminated by the pale moonlight, awakening some sort of new emotions in the depths of your soul.

“I want you to have this” he speaks again, this time offering you a rose gold lightsaber. “It belonged to my sister, princess Leia Organa.”

You’re hesitant about it, but you take it in your hands just to feel its heavy weight, cold in contrast with your skin, admiring the beautiful shiny hilt. All while wondering why would he want you to have such an important piece from his family.

One thing for sure is that, if everyone sees you using Leia’s lightsaber instead of your own, it’s going to cause jealousy, specially in Ben.

“Thanks, master. But i can’t accept it” you give it back to him, finally feeling brave enough to tell him what’s been going around your mind for days. “Actually, i think i would like to take a break from my jedi training, at least for a few months.”

Luke never thought he would hear those word come out of your pretty lips, even less after seeing you so worried thinking about getting expelled. But he understands you, better than anyone. His training can get quite demanding sometimes, and if you need some time to recover from it, he will give it to you without a second thought.

“As you wish, young padawan” he answers, with a kind smile to make it clear that he’s not mad at your decision. “You’re free to go away and come back whenever you feel ready again.”

No. You don’t want to go to any other place, you want to stay here, in a beautiful planet, with Grogu… and him.

“I never said that i wanted to go away” you whisper, looking directly at the ocean of his eyes. “I want to stay here with you.”

Maybe it’s the heat of the moment. Maybe it’s all those years of pent up yearning. But you act by instinct, closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your soft lips against his.

It feels great. You could swear there are real buzzzers inside your stomach. However, you regret it immediately, thinking that he might reject your romantic advances, not wanting to get involved with one of his students who is way younger than him.

To your surprise, that doesn’t happen, and before you can push away, he puts a hand on the nape of your neck to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

You tongues dance in sync, tasting each other, feeling that burning desire grow stronger with each movement of your mouths.

It scalates pretty quickly, leading to something more. So you climb into his lap, straddling his hips, immediately feeling a pair of big hands caressing your bare thighs in such a delicate way.

You move your lips to his jaw, and then his neck, biting slightly as you start moving your hips back and forth, humping his clothed bulge, desperate for some friction.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy” Luke tells you, in a low husky voice that you had never heard him use before, playing with the hem of your shirt as if asking for consent to take it off.

So you allow him to read your thoughts, letting him know that it’s ok, that you want this as much as he does and that you can’t wait to get your body claimed as his.

Giving in to your most passionate wishes, he helps you take off your shirt, letting his hands roam every curve of your waist and back until he finally finds the clips of your bra, unclasping it effortlessly, admiring the way your gorgeous breasts are set free in front of his eyes.

You throw the clothes to the ground, and he doesn’t waste a single second, squeezing your soft tits, slightly pinching your nipples, sending waves of pleasurable pain straight to your core.

As he has his fun, you work on his black pants, unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper, just enough to take out his cock, realizing that it’s a little bit bigger than you thought.

He’s fully hard, hot and heavy at touch, already dripping beads of pre cum, twitching notoriously when you run a finger over his prominent veins and sensitive pink tip.

You wrap a hand around his thick cock, pumping it slowly, and then you feel it, his warm mouth licking and sucking one of your nipples, making you gasp at the delicious sensation.

“Master, please” you whine, unable to resist more teasing.

“Please what, pretty girl?” Luke asks as he moves a hand between your legs, pushing your shorts to the side to explore your wet folds with two of his fingers. “Use your words.”

“I need you to fuck me already, please. I’ll be good, i promise. ”

You have no idea how he’s still calm and collected while being jacked off, and you’re there, being a total mess as his fingers barely stimulate your sensitive clit.

But he enjoys it nonetheless, smiling at the way you’re shivering at his touch, begging for more.

“Who am i to deny you, hm? go ahead and take what you want” he says, stopping his ministrations on you before leaning back, licking his own fingers to have a taste of your sweet juices.

You get off his lap, hurriedly getting rid of your shorts, and then straddle him again, this time guiding his cock to your entrance, slowly sinking down on it, whining as he splits you open so nicely.

Luke grunts when he feels you too, so tight and warm around him, squeezing your soft ass with his hands as a distraction to not cum in that exact moment.

“You’re too big, master” you say shyly, holding on to his broad shoulders. “I don’t think i can take it all.”

“Yes, i know you can” he answers, gripping your hips to push you down, sinking deeper into your cunt until he’s fully sheathed inside.

You could swear he’s all the way up to your guts, but you tough it out, fulfilling your promise of being good for him. And once you get somewhat adjusted to it, you start moving your hips at a steady pace.

Your mouths find each other again, kissing sloppily as you ride him, with his hands on your waist and yours tugging at his now disheveled greyish hair.

A minute later, you’re bouncing on his cock, just like one of those pornstars that you used to watch on the holo-net, letting out obscene moans when you feel him hit that soft spot inside you over and over.

The squelching noises are also pretty loud, your arousal being enough to take him easily, causing a creamy ring to appear on the base of his cock, slowly dripping down his balls.

It feels too good. Both of you are already close to your orgasms, drunk on each other, chasing your own releases, getting messy, rough, and absolutely nasty.

“Cum for me, love, come on” Luke says with a raggedy voice, using his gloved thumb to rub your clit, bucking his hips to fuck you harder.

The way he’s ramming into you, stretching out your tight hole, and his fast movements on your bundle of nerves are enough to make you come undone.

Without a warning you clench hard around him, moaning his name as you squirm and dig your nails on his black clothes, almost euphoric on the immense pleasure he just gave you.

Luke follows right after, releasing with a deep grunt, twitching hard inside your tight heat while he spills his seed as deep as he can, stuffing you full of hot sticky cum, not caring about the consequences.

After that, you go limp on his arms, riding the last waves of bliss, with your cunt still spasming around his softening cock, just hiding your blushed face on the crook of his neck while hearing his heavy breathing.

What you just did was out of the Jedi code, but neither of you regret it, specially not him, who had been dreaming for a moment like this since the first time he saw you on your home planet, so beautiful, young and innocent.

“Luke? am i really your favorite student?” you ask him in a low voice, exhausted and already sleepy.

“Yes. And my favorite girl too” He answers kindly, running a hand along your bare back.

Those words are enough to make a stupid smile appear on your lips, happy to hear him say what you’ve been longing for years, finally closing your eyes as you rest your head on his shoulder and your fingers trace at his black robes, not taking much to fall asleep like that, with your bodies still connected.

And even though you’re on a planet with a hot weather, it gets a little chilly at night, so Luke wraps his cloak around your exposed body.

He swore to protect you forever since you became his padawan, didn’t he?… so now more than ever he’s going to take care of you, it doesn’t matter if he needs to fight a damn exogorth to keep you safe.

But, in this moment, he only needs to let you rest and keep you warm, preventing you from catching a cold. Just holding you close as the stars shine in the dark midnight sky.

[opposingsigns]

Mu Qing hates Feng Xin, he hates to be around him, he hates the way he talks. Something about him just makes him feel all kinds of emotions that eventually make him angry. At night, he begins to have dreams so vivid that he starts to think they’re true- visions of when they were gods and arguing like always. That proves it- he hates him and always has!! Until he starts to see them battle alongside each other, the way they help one another, they way they slowly fall in love, and the moments before they died after having a horrible fight. Mu Qing comes to the horrible realization that he doesn’t hate Feng Xin, he loves him and always had but now he thinks Feng Xin hates him! He must, he has to, why else would he always be looking at him like that?

Oh btw, Feng Xin is having visions of his own. He’s never hated Mu Qing but the visions he has are… troubling. What he doesn’t realize is that he’s seeing them BACKWARDS, watching what looks to be them slowly falling apart until now. Where he messed up so bad that even in this lifetime Mu Qing must hate him. That every time in every timeline he’s messed it up with everyone he’s ever loved because they all seem to leave him at some point.

So fun fact about me that I don’t think I’ve shared… I’m actually not a fan of enemies to lovers. Like rivals to lovers Fengqing? Yes. Actual enemies to lovers? I have a hard time wrapping my head around the hate -> love pipeline UNTIL my roommatte told me about this prompt: enemies to lovers, where they were lovers in a past life but the current incarnations hate each other- but they keep getting flashbacks of their previous life. The weird middle ground of not quite either that lead me here:

But yeah I thought about that going to sleep so please take a very crudely color-slapped sketch of the inside of my brain.

Part of jamiedraws_ MXTX-tober prompts from 2022. Day 19: Modern AU

(insta)(twitter)

[mosshook]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you sm for the tag, @mangatxt / ani!!! <3

to any of my friends who write fic, feel free to do this if you'd like! (@astertiae, @catbandits) this is just for fun :]

the questions are below the cut.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12, currently

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

44.5k

3. What fandoms do you write for?

right now, i'm not actively working on anything. but if i get a chance to work on a project over my holiday break in december, it'll probably be for our flag means death or lord of the rings.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

two very old merlin fics, my singular mandalorian fic, and both of my mob psycho fics that are over 1k words.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i usually do, yes! i think it's really cool that people take the time to leave a comment after they're done reading something of mine, be it long or short. it touches me every time, and even if i don't always know what to say in response sometimes, i appreciate them so, so much.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably ouranos. it's canon-compliant with the merlin timeline for season 4, and it follows lancelot from his sacrificial death for merlin, to his limbo existence in underworld, to being resurrected by morgana and eventually being killed in combat with arthur.

on a language level, it's also one of the first fics i wrote that started to lean more into what my style currently is! so it's kind of sweet on the occasion i reread it and can see my roots.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

definitely without a question it's this is a life. no fictional character has ever touched me quite like reigen, and i wanted to finish that specific piece on a note that was less emblematic of an ending and moreso felt like a triumphant beginning. like a promise of a new, better tomorrow.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i did once, and in hindsight it's pretty funny. but basically, i made critical comments about a character on twitter, so someone went into my comments section and told me to NEVER write for this one specific pairing anymore. (for the record, i didn't. but that was because i realized the pairing in question was kind of lame.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i tried my hand at it once. it went horribly, but it was a learning experience. let the record know it was SO MUCH HARDER than i thought it would be.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

not really, no! i mean, i published a self-insert fic as a joke for my friends a few years ago, but that's not quite the same thing.

if we're talking "not published and will never see the light of day" stuff, i did write a little blurb where keanu reeves' jonathan harker meets alex winters' vampire marko from the lost boys.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes. the title was taken, as was the premise, from a popular author in the community.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah!!! nothing serious that ever got published, but me and my friends have collaborated on mini-projects together and have old google docs together. i used to write mini fics with my friends all the time on twitter, but sadly i never archived them.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

probably yuuri and victor from yuri on ice. i can't express enough how much yuri on ice changed my life when it came out, or the sheer euphoria i felt as a kid in the closet watching someone so much like me - yuuri - be out, and happy, and brave. i miss my show so, so much.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

my aquarium fic with serizawa as a education volunteer and reigen as a schoolteacher who takes his kids there on field trips. i have so many little scenes from it and an incredibly specific vision for it as someone who loves the sea, has a lifelong appreciation for marine life, and has always wanted to live by the shore.

16. What are your writing strengths?

oh man. i think that i do a good job of integrating leitmotifs and playing into my semi-poetic voice. i also think that over the years, i've gotten better at creating tangible atmospheres, specifically with the quiet. i love portraying the quiet.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

grammatically, i'm a bit of a nightmare sometimes. dialogue takes a while for me to develop, too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i wouldn't do this unless i knew the other language well (like vietnamese). most likely i don't think i'll end up doing this at all because even with my personal and professional writing, i'm hesitant to write in another language that isn't english.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

merlin. i was 11 and wrote my first fic on my ipad in the pages app...it was a merlin fix-it that was over 15,000 words long, and it was absolutely atrocious. said ipad is at my parent's house locked forever because i forgot the password, and i hope it stays that way. some things should stay lost.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

honestly? i think it's still principles of stellar connectivity. i wrote this for community during lockdown in late 2020, and i conceptualized a lot of it with my friend, @combeferres. (they're credited at the beginning as the person who made the fic's mixtape!) it's got everything i love: rock music, troy and abed being silly, national parks, stargazing, celestial motifs. i wanted to do a serious character study with sitcom characters while still retaining the core of who they are and what makes them so special, and to this day, i think i was pretty successful.

[tothecrucifieddeer]

sorry if this blog is about something that I am misinterpreting but if it is true, please get to somewhere safe. What you are seeing are false visions and there are people who can help get rid of them. Please get somewhere safe and call a nearby hospital and tell them you need help because you are having severe delusions. If you're unable to call a hospital, call the police. Tell them you are having a mental emergency and need to get to the hospital immediately. Again, I apologize if this blog was simply a joke or a fictional story or an arg of some sort and I misinterpreting it as a cry for help

I don't want to go to the hospital--maybe that makes bad or evil or something, but I'm just coping with this blog. As I've explained in other asks--I'm doing the best I can to do the bare minimum of what the Doe asks. She is a horrific being in a lot of ways. She has been asking me to be violent towards people I love. Thankfully, those people live far away, and I have purposely distance myself both physically and emotionally (on their end) for many years from these people.

So, while she tortures me with screaming, fire, visions, and horrific threats and intrusive thoughts, I do just enough to keep myself safe.

I am under psychiatric care--I'm going to see my psychiatrist tomorrow. I am taking my meds and I am coping. I really am. This blog is pleading and asking for help, but mostly from Higher Powers.

Doe demands public worship. Public penance. Public dialogue. She wants me to acknowledge her and pray to her and show my desperation.

I know you believe this is false and dangerous--some part of me does too--but I have to take my precautions so as to not get injured or damaged or hurt--or for someone I love or anyone really to meet the same fate.

The point is I am safe. It's scary. I'm tired. I don't like staying up til 1 or 2 every night--who would and waking up at 4 and struggling to stay awake all day. It's hard. It sucks. But I am trying to offer an accumulation of small martyrdoms in order to save maybe the world, maybe just a person I'm in love with--I don't know. I get conflicting messages about who Messiah is and how important they are--whether are even a good person or not--but I knew them once and there are two separate timelines in which they exist in my mind, and I am in love with them. I have sacrificed a lot in my life for this person. For my family. For my soul. For their soul. For lovers' souls. And I just don't want to do this horrible thing--the many horrible things Doe, God, Black Demon asks.

I know--I know it is really cringe, annoying, bad of me to make this blog. To do this. But it is what Doe and other messengers, of who I believe is God, have asked me to do.

I don't want to be a bad person. I want to be holy. I want to be a saint. And I have to do what I have to do, even in conflicting ways, to be a safe person and a holy person. So, the blog is cringe, blog is demented, but it is what I have to do make a little more sense.

Thank you for your concern, but I'm not in danger as long as I do the most I can to please the Doe.

[angelgrovehighschool]

A little recap of the scary ass dream I just had 🥰 so I’m in an alternate timeline and it’s still me just broke up with C and I’m moving back into my parents but it’s into a different room - for some reason I’m trying to unpack All of my stuff but it’s like 3 o clock in the morning. In my dream my desk for work is right up against a window

I’m trying to coordinate and inordinate (lol) amount of papers and books and I somehow disturb the blinds on the window and this feeling of dread washes over me; I forget that in this house, in this room, there’s something outside that really scares me, and the window and blinds are set up in such a way that I can kind of always see it just a little bit, and the feeling is like, complete dread that I have to relive this every day at my new desk.

In this dream, about 30 feet away from outside my window is this .. gruesome little display - it’s a small little cluster of bushes and small trees, and on one side is a small, child’s sized chair, and then opposite of the chair is this … decayed/almost muffled .. corpse that is still somehow hanging from its neck by a noose in the tree. It’s like the dead body of a clown and somehow it’s been preserved in such a way that you can only really tell from like the top of its head what it is - the curly read hair is just intact enough that you can see what it is, but the rest of its is just completely charred, to the point that if you look at it, your brain knows that there’s supposed to be a face there but what you can see is so unrecognizable from anything human that it’s actually distorts your sense of reality looking at it.

So like I said, right outside my window is this tiny chair facing this fucked up grotesque corpse, and now matter how I angle my desk or the blinds it’s just sort of always in my field of vision. It seems like it’s 3 o clock in the morning and I realize that this is my new life, and no matter what I’m going to have to live with this horrible spectacle, even when I’m just in bed trying to sleep

It was so scary I still feel like physically unwell lol!!!

[gatorprompts]

𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈  𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 .

from  the   disney+  series .  mentions  of  death  present .

“ i  beg  your  pardon . ” “ on  behalf  of  the  time  variance  authority ,  i  hereby  arrest  you  for  crimes  against  the  sacred  timeline .  hands  up ,  you’re  coming  with  us . ” “ get  out  of  my  way . ” “ can  you  at  least  tell  me  what  it  is ? ” “ it  sounds  dumb . ” “ know  this .  you  cross  me ,  there  are  deadly  consequences . ” “ please  sign  this  to  verify  this  is  everything  you’ve  ever  said . ” “ oh ,  this  is  absurd . ” “ do  a  lot  of  people  not  know  if  they’re  robots ? ” “ this  is  a  mistake !  i  shouldn’t  be  here . ” “ who  actually  believes  this  bunkum ? ” “ i’m  sorry ,  my  friend  is  an  imbecile . ” “ madam ,  a  god  doesn’t  plead . ” “ look ,  this  has  been  a  very  enjoyable  pantomime ,  but  i’d  like  to  go  home  now . ” “ no  one  bad  is  ever  truly  bad ,  and  no  one  good  is  ever  truly  good . ” “ can  you  hear  me ?  are  you  a  recording ?  or  are  you  eve  alive ? ” “ love  is  a  dagger . ” “ i  thought  perhaps  we  could  work  together ,  but  now  i  see  you  lack  vision . ” “ come  any  closer  and  i’ll  kill  him . ” “ you’re  not  the  only  tech  savvy  loki . ” “ i  don’t  know  what  that  means ! ” “ i’m  sorry ,  madam .  didn’t  exactly  have  time  to  scan  the  brochure . ” “ by  the  way ,  i  thought  you  wanted  me  dead . ” “ so  we’re  a  team  now ? ” “ welcome  to  the  real  world .  down  there ,  we’re  awful  to  one  another  to  get  what  we  want . ” “ you  could  be  whoever ,  whatever  you  want  to  be ,  even  someone  good . ” “ every  moment  those  variants  are  out  there ,  we’re  all  in  danger .  find  them ! ” “ and  so ,  that’s  where  i  grew  up .  the  ends  of  a  thousand  worlds .  and  now ,  that’s  where  i’ll  die . ” “ do  you  think  that  what  makes  a  loki  a  loki  is  the  fact  that  we’re  destined  to  lose ? ” “ we  may  lose ,  sometimes  painfully .  we  don’t  die . ” “ we  survive .  i  mean ,  you  did . ” “ you  did  it  on  your  own .  you  ran  rings  around  them .  you’re  amazing ! ” “ well ? ” “ i  know  you  have  some  quip  you’re  dying  to  say . ” “ oh ,  i  don’t  have  a  quip .  i’ve  nothing  to  say  to  you . ” “ when  you  think  the  ends  justify  the  means ,  there’s  not  much  you  won’t  do . ” “ what  is  this  place ?  where  are  we ?  who  are  you ? ” “ this  is  the  void ,  that’s  alioth .  and  we’re  his  lunch .  come  on ! ”  “ i’m  as  in  the  dark  as  you  are . ” “ your  whole  reality’s  been  destroyed .  tell  me ,  how  does  it  feel  to  be  on  the  other  side  of  it ? ” “ this  is  it ,  isn’t  it ?  this  is  where  you  dragged  me  after  you  stole  my  life .  a  fitting  place ,  then ,  to  take  yours . ” “ and  what  if  i  said  loki  wasn’t  dead ?  not  yet ,  anyway . ” “ i’d  say  you  were  lying . ” “ maybe .  or  maybe  we  want  the  same  thing . ” “ i’m  telling  you  this  willingly . ” “ i  want  to  know  who  lied  to  me . ” “ that’s  nice .  super  believable . ” “ i’d  like  to suggest  we  take  a  quick  breather  so  i  can  ask  several  thousand  questions . ” “ it’s  been  a  very ,  very ,  very  trying  past  few  days .  ” “ all  i  know  is ,  i  got  pruned  and  i  woke  up  here ,  and  now  i’m  surrounded  by  variants  of  myself ,  plus  an  alligator ,  which  i’m  heartbroken  to  report  i  didn’t  even  find  all  that  strange ! ” “ tough .  got  to  keep  moving  so  we  don’t  die . ” “ why  the  hell  is  there  an  alligator  in  here ? ”  “ okay ,  but  what’s  your  plan ? ” “ don’t  die . ” “ don’t  die  isn’t  a  plan .  it’s  a  general  demand  of  living . ” “ we’re  all  villains  here .  we’ve  all  done  horrible ,  terrible ,  horrific  things . ” “ all  i  know  is ,  i  don’t  want  to  hurt  you .  i  don’t  want  a  throne .  i  just  want  you  to  be  okay . ” “ well ,  if  you  think  it’s  a  bad  idea ,  i  prefer  you  to  speak  your  mind . ” “ we  write  our  own  destiny  now . ”

[rekrappeter]

find yourself somewhere, somehow

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, slight cedric diggory x fem!reader

summary: you and fred are madly in love with one another, but have never expressed your feelings to each other. every one else knows though. what if that one secret ends up ruining the friendship you both have been trying to save?

warnings: mutual pining, inaccurate Harry Potter timeline, swearing, typos

notes: some of this was requested, some not. this is my 3rd time trying to post it, please give it some love, I actually quite like it <3

“I think I’m going to ask Angelina to the Yule Ball,” your lips macked together at your best friend’s words, letting them fall on deaf ears as you narrowed your eyes at the words on the page in front of you. You could feel that the twins’ gazes were on you, and you tried to suppress any form of annoyance or jealousy passing across your face.  A heartbeat passed before Fred Weasley spoke up again, “Did you hear what I said?” 

You looked up at the red-haired boy sitting in front of you, your attention being pulled away from your study notes that you were carefully highlighting. “You were talking to me?” you asked, feigning confusion. 

Fred gave you a puzzled look, his brows creasing together, “Who else would I be talking to?” he said, his voice lowering as Snape strutted by the table you were sat at. You all turned your attention to your parchment quickly, letting him pass before Fred tapped the top of your book to get you to continue the conversation.

“George,” you deadpanned, your eyes flickering to his twin. 

“I heard about this all night long,” George said, distaste evident in his voice and he rolled his eyes swiftly. You stiffened a giggle, watching Fred knock his shoulder with his, his own amusement evident in his smirk. 

“So, what do you think?” Fred beamed, a twinkle in his eye. 

“I-” you paused, glancing down the table at Angelina who was laughing quietly at something her friend said. There was no doubt she was beautiful, no doubt that she was good enough for your best friend and you would be ecstatic for Fred if she did accept his offer. You would be, really, if it wasn’t for the massive crush that you harbored for him since you were twelve years old. You remembered the moment it happened; he was trying to teach you how to play quidditch outside of The Burrow during the winter holidays and something went horribly wrong when you were two meters off the floor - you lost your nerve and tumbled off the broom, but Fred was there underneath it to soften your blow. You remembered staring into his eyes deeply, your mouth parting in shock at the sudden wave of feelings that welcomed you when you were so close to him. He ended up dislocating his elbow that day, but he never blamed you for it. 

You felt someone nudge your hand, bringing your gaze from Angelina back to Fred. You plastered on a fake cheerful grin, nodding your head excitedly, “Go for it, you will be great together.” 

Fred was waiting for your blessing, and within minutes of you edging him on, he had secured a date to the ball happening in two weeks’ time. For the remainder of the study hall, you had to listen to Fred gush about Angelina and you had to do everything in your power not to groan and lose your cool. You avoided eye contact with George, knowing that he’d give you an unimpressed look. He knew how you felt about his twin, despite you never truly admitting it to him. You’d brush off his question and change the subject, but it wasn’t hard to see the admiration you had for him. 

“Do you have a date yet?” George questioned, looking down at you. You were walking through the castle on the way to the great hall, the twins on either side of you. He hadn’t heard you talk about going with anyone or thinking of asking anyone. In truth, you had hoped that both you and Fred would be dateless the day of the ball and ultimately end up going together - but that plan was ruined. 

You pursed your lips, keeping your stare forward as you shook your head. “No, I don’t.” 

Fred draped his arm around your shoulder, you stumbled slightly at the heavyweight. “Imagine we have dates, and you don’t, who would have thought?” You knew that he was only teasing and sometimes he never uses his brain before he speaks, but that didn’t lessen the irritation that exploded inside of you. 

“Shut up,” you snapped, your retort falling in between his rambles of how surprised he was that you didn’t have a date. You pushed yourself away from him and stormed off in the direction of the common room, not feeling hungry anymore. Fred gawked at your figure rushing off, glancing at George to ask what was wrong with you. 

“You’re an idiot, that’s what’s wrong with her,” George sighed, shaking his head at his twin. He walked into the Great Hall, Fred trailing behind slowly. “Where are you going?” George turned to face him, placing a hand on his chest. 

“To-”

“Don’t be stupid, you upset her so go fix it,” Fred sighed, knowing that he was right. He twisted on his heels and walked the familiar way to the Gryffindor dorms. Exasperating the password, he jumped through the entrance and spotted you sitting down on one of the love-seats. The common room was empty as expected, the light from the fire gleaming across your face. When you looked up at him, he saw the tears streaming down your face just before you wiped them away quickly. He hated the fact that he made you cry, but sometimes he just couldn’t control how he rambled on. He never thought about how his words affected you because often you would join in on his jokes but he didn’t know that this would be a sensitive subject for you.

“What do you want?” you mumbled into the sleeve of your jumper, bringing your legs up to cuddle into your front. Fred sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. He ignored the pain in his chest when you pushed him away from you, shuffling down the couch slightly. 

“y/n,” Fred whined, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“The fact that I don’t have a date to a once in a lifetime event? Yeah, it’s not a big deal, Fred.” 

“You still have plenty of time to find one,” he said, “It’s not for another two weeks.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s last resort,” you cried, the emotions getting the better of you, “I wanted someone to be excited to go with me.” You looked up at your best friend, your vision slightly blurry from the tears forming and he looked like a lost puppy staring back at you. Fred was never one to be good with comforting you when you got upset, it was usually George who was the twin you’d go to for problems. Fred was great as a distraction, he’d bring you out and do something fun with you. This was new territory for him. 

Fred wrapped his arms around you again, and this time you let him. He sighed in relief letting his head fall on top of yours. “I’ll take you, I’ll forget about Angelina.” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes with an effort, “That’s not what I want, Fred.” 

“You don’t want to go with me?” He said, a teasing taunt in his tone. 

Placing your hands on his chest and pushing yourself up to look at him, you ignored the way his eyes followed your hand and trailed up to your face. His lips parted slightly, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between your lips but he refrained himself from doing so. Fred wasn’t the most observant person out there, but he knew that kissing you wouldn’t help the situation. “You know I would love to go with you but you asked someone else first,” you tried to play it off as teasing, but the sorrow was evident. Fred sighed, nodding his head, and the long strands dangled over his eyes. Giggling, you brushed them away with your fingers, letting your touch linger. “You need to cut all this.” 

“You don’t like it?” Fred pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. 

Your eyes scanned his face, the soft look in his own orbs making you wonder if you ever felt the same way about you that you did him. Considering that you’ve been friends for years without anything happening, you came to the conclusion that it was just a one-sided thing. You were the pathetic one head over heels in love with your best friend. “Your hair looks good anyway.” 

“Whoever asks you to the ball will be one lucky bitch,” Fred gleamed, jumping up from the couch and pulling you up with him, “I’m starving!”

The next few days passed with little memory of the conversation between you and Fred. Everything went back to normal; the trio that consisted of yourself, Fred and George returned back to being impractical jokers and the comments about not having a date to the Yule Ball became nearly nonexistent. With the Ball drawing in quickly, you tried your best to hide the panic that was looming inside you. It wasn’t a big deal to show up alone, if that’s what it would have to result in but it would be nice to be able to dance with someone while your best friends are dancing with their dates. You started to write up a list of potential candidates but from a discussion in Charms with a Ravenclaw, everyone that you thought you could ask already had a date. 

It was like everyone knew that you didn’t have a date to the biggest event to ever happen at Hogwarts. It was the sympathy looks from first-year witches, and snarky chuckles from sixth-year Slytherins that had their dates since the ball was announced. With a simple roll of your eyes, you smile regardless of what they think of you. If it resulted in you having to dance alone or in a group, you didn’t care. The Yule Ball was merely two days away and with a dress picked out, you couldn’t even think about the effort of having to change the colour to match some random guy’s bowtie. 

You had excused yourself from the Gryffindor common room where your friends were gathered around to go to the Owlery to send the letters that were piling up in your bedside drawer. “Do you want me to go with you?” Fred hollered as you were dunking out the entrance. 

“No, I’ll only be quick.” You called back, and started the short journey. A feverish chill had settled across the castle, people were on edge with the unknown of what the Triwizard Tournament could bring, and yet the bubbling murmur of excitement for the ball still settled over the fear and apprehension. You jumped up the steps, leaping two at a time but what you didn’t expect was the top step to be covered in ice. The moment your foot landed on the step, you knew you were done for. A squeal passed your lips and you were on route of tumbling backwards down the stairs, just as a hand grasped your wrists and pulled you up. Your breathing was heavy, ragged, as your life flashed before your eyes. 

“Woah there,” A deep voice interrupted the memory of when you were five years old. You opened your eyes and met the stare of Cedric Diggory, his grey eyes wide. His pink lips curled into a smile of relief, and he helped you steady yourself. “That would have been devastating.” 

You shook your head in shock, your eyes falling down the long stairs that you were almost laying at the bottom off, surely acquiring some broken bones on the way. “Th-thank you, Cedric,” you smiled at your saviour, before glancing down at how his fingers were still wrapped around your wrist. 

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back and taking a step away from you. “H-how are you? I haven’t seen you since-”

“The World Cup,” you finished, nodding your head at the memory, “I never thought Hogwarts was that big until this year, it’s filled with students now,” you mentioned, taking into consideration the extra students that were welcomed to Hogwarts at the start of the year, “I’ve seen you of course, you’re the big celebrity this year.” 

A light blush danced across his cheeks and you weren’t sure if it was the wind or your words having the effect on him. “I wouldn’t call myself a celebrity,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his brown hair. 

“You were really great in the first task, I did go looking for you but you were in hospital because…” you trailed off sentence, watching Cedric grimace at the memory of getting burnt by the dragon during the very first task. You slowly started to walk around Cedric to the entrance of the owlery, “I have letters to post, so I better get going… but best of luck for -”

“Do you have a date for the Ball?” Cedric blurted out, the cool composure that you were so used to seeing him dawn on gone. He let out a shaky breath, the cold air creating a cloud in front of him. 

You chuckled slightly, “Haven’t you heard? I’m the only sixth year that is completely undateable.”

“Well, not the only sixth year,” Cedric blushed again, he gulped, making his Adam's apple bobble slightly. 

“I thought you were going with Cho,” your brows creased in confusion. You remembered the conversation with Hermione and Ginny from nights ago when you were quickly brainstorming the last single men in sixth year that could potentially ask you out but Cedric was linked with Cho Chang, much to your dismay. 

“I was…” Cedric sighed, “But she called it off last night, s-she wasn’t comfortable going with me as a champion and have all eyes on her.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” 

“Would you be my date?” 

“Me?” you gawked, looking around for the twins to pawn this off as some sort of joke but your red-haired friends were nowhere in sight. 

Cedric nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I would have asked you sooner, but I kind of thought you’d be going with Fred and when I heard that he asked Angelina, I was a bit confused.” 

“Myself and Fred are just friends,” you smiled, “B-but I’d love to go with you, Cedric. It’d be a shame for both of us to go alone when we can go together.”

You returned to the Gryffindor common room with a large smile on your face. Your friends were still lingering around the fire, trying to get the warmth into them after having Quidditch practice after their classes. Fred stretched over the couch, looking over it with hooded eyes, he must have been sleeping. “What took you so long?” 

You swatted his legs off the empty cushion beside him, and took a seat before his legs draped over your lap and you sighed in content. “Bumped into someone, guess who has a date to the ball?” you teased, a smirk tugging at the side of your lips. That gained the attention of Harry and Hermione who were studying, Hermione’s ears perking in excitement. 

“Who?” 

“You’ll see,” you teased, giggling at the yells of protest. You glanced over at Fred, who was unnervingly quiet. “You okay?” you mumbled, placing your hands on his legs and pulling at his leg hairs playfully. 

Fred didn’t answer straight away, his eyes scanning your face before he nodded, “Who is it?” 

“You’ll see,” you repeated, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“You’re not even going to tell me, your best friend?” 

“Nope,” you popped, a yawn passing your lips. You ignored Fred’s dramatic pout, moving his legs off your lap to lay down on the couch beside him. It was normal for you to do this, but something about doing it now made you tense. You couldn’t pinpoint it but when his hand rested on your hip to make sure you didn’t fall off the edge, you felt dizzy and lightheaded. You closed your eyes tightly, but when you breathed in, all you could smell was Fred’s aftershave. It wasn’t strong but it was enough to make you woo. 

Fred watched you softly, how your features became relaxed the moment he placed his hand on your hip and he wondered if he was being foolish not making you his. He constantly ignored his brothers pestering, even Percy had confronted him one christmas. “Are you excited now?” He breathed out, watching your eyes flutter open. 

“I was always excited, but now I know I won’t be left alone when you’re off dancing with your date,” you replied. It came out more snappy than you expected and judging from the taken back look in Fred’s eyes, you knew he took it in the way you didn’t want it to be taken. 

“Look, I did offer to take you-” Fred pressed but you shook your head, dropping your forehead onto his chest. 

“Can we not get into this? It doesn’t matter anymore, we’re friends, Fred. You shouldn’t feel obliged to take me to dances, we’re not kids anymore.” Fred’s face dropped into the crease of your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and he nodded shortly. You both lingered in each other’s body, ignoring the gaze from your friends. George looked at Ron, giving him a pointed look and Ron shrugged his shoulders in return. It was obvious you were both so in love with each other, and neither of them knew why you were delaying the inevitable. 

Fred’s eyes scanned the crowd that were gathered in the Great Hall, that was overly decorated in white fairy lights and drapes that turned the bland gold room into a beautiful, magical event. Despite the gorgeous angel standing next to him, a wide smile on Angelina’s face, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you but you were nowhere in sight. The worry started to settle over him, his overalls becoming slightly sweaty. “Is that y/n?” Angelina’s voice tore through his thoughts, his eyes following to where she was pointing. 

His mouth fell open at the sight of you, a wide smile on your face as your arms linked with Cedric Diggory’s, who was leading you to the dancefloor. His eyes scanned your body, his breathing hitched at how beautiful you looked. He knew Ginny said you were stunning in your dress but he didn’t believe how gorgeous you were until he saw you himself. 

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” Angelina whispered, eyes flickering between Fred’s face and your figure. 

“Yeah, she is,” Fred breathed out, his grip tightening on her waist. 

“Why didn’t you ask her?” Fred’s attention fell from his best friend to his date, confusion sweeping across his face and Angelina rolled her eyes. “Fred, everyone knows that you’re in love with her.” 

“Wh-what?” he sputtered out, but he didn’t argue any further. He knew by the pointed look that his date gave him that he wouldn’t be able to charm his way out of this situation. His shoulders deflated and his eyes flickered to your smiling face, his stomach churning at the sight of Cedric’s hand resting on your lower back as he spun you around elegantly. 

Angelina stepped towards the dancefloor, following the lead of everyone else, and started to lead Fred in the moves before he took over. His red hair was brushed around his face, and his pout grew with each second passing. “It’s not too late to tell her how you feel.” 

“That’s the thing, Ang, it is.” 

“Fred, don’t be so naive. She’s in love with you too, it’s so bloody obvious,” Angelina chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. Fred spun her around to the beat of the music, lifting her off the floor like he’s practiced it so many times. Fred was trying to come up with some sort of joke to maneuver the conversation topic from you but his mind was blank - actually, the only thing that filled his mind was you. The way you laughed so loud, the way your eyes twinkled underneath the torches, how you’d devour a cheese burger in half a second, how you were always so keen to participate in their jokes but always the first to flee the scene in fear of getting caught. “I don’t know if I should be offended or-” 

“I’m sorry,” Fred cut her off, feeling slightly guilty for using her as a decoy. “Let’s enjoy tonight.” He announced, taking one more look at you for the night, just missing the longing gaze that you were sending his way. There was no one else you’d rather be dancing with than him, despite the Hufflepuff prefect making you feel extra special tonight, his attention solely on you. It just wasn’t the attention you yearned for. 

The days following the Yule Ball were a mixture of madness and chaos. They blended into one as you were whisked away to the Burrow for Christmas break with your second family, only minutes after seeing your own family for the first time since the start of the new school year. You always knew how hectic this time of year got but you never minded it much, you always enjoyed being surrounded by the Weasleys and the smell of Molly’s homemade double chocolate chip cookies made it all worthwhile. Except this year was slightly different. 

It was always Fred that picked you up from your front porch, but this year it was George. You always shared a room with the twins while you stayed in The Burrow, but this year you were lodging with Hermione and Ginny. Fred was always the first person to run down the stairs and take the seat next to you in the morning for breakfast, but this year the seat was always the last one vacant. It wasn’t only you that noticed this either, Ginny and Harry had been whispering about it all day long, Ron and George pondered what could be going on between the two of you, and it was Hermione that confronted you about the odd behaviour. But you only had one answer, ‘I haven’t a bloody clue what is going on’. 

After the vaguest of conversations with Hermione, you trotted up to the twins’ room knowing that George was outside helping Arthur with the chickens he wanted to invest in. Fred was nowhere to be seen, the best bet would be his bedroom. You knocked quietly on the door, peeking your head through the open gap and seeing Fred laying on his stomach in the single bed. The image was laughable, his long legs dangling from the edge of the bed and the quilt a thousand different colours kicked to the floor. His arms were tucked underneath his pillow and his face was pointed away from you. 

“Freddie?” you whispered, trying to get his attention. Fred’s eyes squeezed tightly at your voice and he tried desperately to calm his breathing. Maybe if you thought he was asleep, you’d leave him alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to you, it was more so the fear of blabbering out how he truly  felt about you and the prospect of ruining years of friendship. He heard his bedroom door click shut after seconds of silence, and he was just about to twist towards it when he heard your sock clad feet shuffle through the room. “Freddie?” you asked again, but he didn’t budge.

You sighed and chewed on your bottom lip nervously, you didn’t want to wake him up. He wasn’t the friendliest person after being bothered while sleeping, but your heart ached for feeling his warmth again. You unconsciously found yourself laying on the smallest bit of bed that was available to you, your arm wrapping around his torso to hold yourself up. His back was to your chest, and he shuffled slightly to let you get comfortable but you didn’t pay much mind to it. You nudge your face into his t-shirt, letting his scent take over all your senses and you place a soft kiss on the material. “I miss you,” you whispered into the silence. 

Fred was staring blankly at the wall, his heart hammering against his chest as your fingers grasped his t-shirt with all their might. He reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly. Your breath hitched in your throat but you didn’t say anything. You just lay there next to him in peace and quiet, your uneven breaths mixing with his. 

“y/n, this letter is for you,” Ron called from across the table, holding an off-white envelope. You looked up from the bacon and scrambled eggs on your plate in shock, you never got letters sent for you to The Burrow. Your parents would usually call to check up on you and all of your close friends were gathered around the table. 

“Who’s it from?” Fred wondered as he occupied his usual seat next to you. The previous night where you fell asleep next to him brought everything back to somewhat normal. He was finally acknowledging you in the mornings and spending his time with you. You shrugged, tearing the letter open and your eyes widened at the signature written so beautifully at the bottom. “Cedric Diggory,” Fred scoffed, a roll of his eyes gaining the attention of his brothers around him. 

“Cedric Diggory wrote to you?” Ginny gleamed, her eyes widening in delight as a contrast to Fred's displeased look. 

“What did he say?” Hermione asked. You were about to stand up from the table, and excuse yourself but from the peering eyes of your friends, you knew you wouldn’t get far without their curiosity minds following you. 

“Just read it aloud,” Harry cheered, and he frowned quickly when Hermione shot him a look to be quiet. But Ron soon joined in and it was like a dominios effect, you sighed and gave in, clearing your voice to read the letter for the first time. 

“Dear y/n,” you started, interrupted already by Fred’s sigh of annoyance, “I had tried to contact you at your family home but they have directed all my calls to Weasleys’ household. I have tried several times to get in touch with you but seem to be having trouble - I have left messages. I hope this doesn’t come across as desperate or obnoxious but I would thoroughly enjoy it if you were to accompany me to Hogsmede this weekend. I look forward to hearing from you..” you paused, before whispering the last part, “yours, Cedric Diggory.” 

There was a deafening silence as you finished the last syllable, the words blurring in front of you on the parchment as you tried to make sense of the letter. Of course you had a great time at the ball with Cedric, but you never had any intention of getting romantically involved with him. Not when your heart was obviously set on someone else. Your mind was brought back to the kitchen of the Weasleys’ when the girls in front of you gasped out loud, squealing as they grasped for the letter to reread it. The boys lost interest the moment you started to speak, except for Fred, who fell back in the chair and began finishing his breakfast. 

“What is your secret?” Ginny gawked. “Cedric Diggory wants to go on a date with you!” 

“I-It’s not a date,” you mumbled, sitting back down. The tension between you and Fred was back, the hour of normality that you were blessed with vanished. “It’s not a date,” you repeated, but your words were aimed at Fred, who creased his eyebrows in confusion. 

“It sounds like a date to me and a bloody good one at that,” he flashed you a smile, but you could see beneath it. Something was different between the two of you, like the aura has shifted and you’ve become one. It didn’t make sense but the way Fred was feeling, you could feel it too. How his heart was hammering and his stomach was infested with annoying butterflies. It’s how you felt when you looked at him. 

“We have plans for the weekend,” you reminded him. 

“Cancel them, it’s okay.” 

“No, Fred, it’s a tradition. I can’t just cancel them.” 

Fred sighed, tidying up his plate and standing up from the table. You followed his lead and left the group to analyse the letter, you went to call him but he swiftly turned around. Your chest hit his, his taller figure hovering over you. “I’ll make it easier for you, I’ll cancel them. There, you’re free this weekend.”

“What are you even talking about?” you sighed, frustration getting the better of you. “I never said I wanted to go out with him.”

“Why wouldn’t you not? He’s Cedric freakin’ Diggory!” There was no room for arguing, no matter what you threw at him, he’d have a comeback so you just sighed and gave in. Waving the white flag of surrender for the day and it wasn’t even ten in the morning. 

There was a lake not two miles from The Burrow, it was hidden beyond trees taller than churches and you’d have never found it if it weren’t for the adventurous boys that you grew up with. You were supposed to be nestled in the corner of a tavern with the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, sharing a warm butterbeer and having that first date jitters but instead you found yourself looking over the frozen lake. It was always frozen at this time of the year. You had a large black coat on, fake fur decorating the hood as you breathed out and created your own night time clouds of air. You had your skates by your feet, too cold to change into them.

Every year on the last night before returning back to Hogwarts, it was a tradition with you and Fred to ice-skate across the lake. It was the one time that you were guaranteed to feel free and relieve any stress that has been building up on your shoulders. But it didn’t feel the same alone and you couldn’t bring yourself to put your skates on. You fell back against the grass that was decorated in white snow from the downpour earlier that day, letting out a strangled scream that you’ve been holding in. 

“Bloody hell, what was that?” A grin erupted on your face and you sat up, looking over your shoulder to see Fred standing there in a brown tattered coat, his skates dangling from his fingers. He had a yellow bobble hat on his head, his hair tucked beneath it. 

“You showed,” you smiled, kicking your shoes off and pulling your skates on with great difficulty. Fred followed your lead, sitting down next to you. 

“Of course I did.” 

You sighed, strapping the laces, “I wasn’t sure if you would, you’re acting really strange lately.” 

Fred gave you a sympathetic glance, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you stand up and stretch your gloved hand out to help him up. He took it, using his strength to lift himself up so you didn’t have to use a muscle. You slowly made your way to the iced surface, letting Fred test it out and he skated away in circles. “Freddie,” you called back, pouting slightly. 

A raspy laugh left his lips as he shook his head in disbelief and came back to you, letting you grasp onto his arm as you took your first steps onto the ice. “You do know you can skate, right?” Fred asked.

“I just need your help for the first five minutes, you know that,” you chuckled. You both skated around the nature-created rink, silence settling between you. The moon overlooked the two of you skating around, hand in hand - the perfect pair in a state of ignorance. Fred let go of your hand, skating in front of you and you couldn’t help but laugh as he showed off his skills. His lanky legs are quite talented at twisting around one another. Fred looked up at you, your smile beaming at him and that’s when he lost his balance, tripping over his own feet and tumbling to the ice. Your eyes widened but you were going to quick to stop and you fell over his limbs, your chin banging off the ice. 

“Fuck, are you okay, y/n?” Fred scrambled over to you, his hand cupping your chin and seeing the blood seeping from the cut. His worry was cut short when you erupted into a fit of unstoppable giggles, ignoring the pain that soared through your face. The image of Fred’s face falling flat on his ass will forever be sketched into your mind now. “Shut up,” Fred huffed, his hand dropping from your face. 

You crawled over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you tried everything in your power to stop from giggling but you couldn’t. It got to the point that your laughter became so contagious that Fred’s chest began rumbling with his own laughter. You sat in the middle of the ice rink, asses soaked and cuts on your face as you laughed for what felt like hours. 

“I missed this,” you announced in a heavy sigh, your stomach hurting from laughing so much. 

“I’m sorry for acting like an idiot the last few weeks,” Fred said. 

“What was the story with that?” you asked, reaching to fix the hat that was crooked on his head. His hands wrapped around your wrist, his gloves fingers maneuvering to hold your hands close. Your eyes connected with his, your breath hitching at the sight of his brown orbs telling you everything before he spoke a word. “Fred..”

Fred sighed, dropping your hands and scrambling to stand up. You followed his movements, skating to where your shoes and belongings were left. His broad shoulders were slouched as he got off his skates and you weren’t sure if he was going to walk away again. “Fred, please don’t shut me out again.” 

“I-I-” Fred mumbled, his eyes screwing shut before fluttering open again, “Why didn’t you go out with Cedric tonight?” 

The question took you off guard, confusion evident in your expression. “I told you already, we had plans! We do this every year!” 

“You cancelled plans with a future boyfriend for me?” Fred asked, trying to clarify the situation. 

“What are you talking about, Fred? We’re best friends, I’d always choose you over-” 

“Is that all we’ll ever be?” The words made you dizzy, the question heavy with every emotion you’ve ever felt for Fred. You looked up at him, your socks getting soaked as you stood there in shock, your shoes forgotten about. “That… That question came out more forced than I wanted it to, but I just need to know, will we ever be more?” 

“That’s not for me to decide…” you whispered, seeing his expression falter, “You’ve never- you’ve never told me how you felt about me.” 

“I thought I made it obvious.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “By taking someone else to the Ball? Or by encouraging me to go on a date? Or when we were thirteen and you told George that you only seen me as a sister-”

“Okay, they weren’t my finest moments, I’ll admit that..” Fred wanted to slap himself for being so stupid and naive, “But do you feel the same way that I feel about you?”

“If you think that I’m the most amazing person in the world, that you can’t live without me, and that you’re sick of spending every moment with me and not being able to kiss me… then yes, I feel the same..” you breathed out the words, your chest beating rapidly. When Fred processed the words, a large grin filled with relief washed over his face. He took a step closer to you, and you took it on yourself to close the gap between your bodies. He dipped his head and connected his lips to yours, his hands placing themselves respectfully on your waist as you wrapped around his shoulders. The kiss wouldn’t have been deemed the most magical - your teeth hitting off one another and your tongues sloppy mixing together, but when he pulled away and laughed, your heart deemed it to be the most magical moment in your life. 

[stockholmdolly]

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD) 8

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x reader; surprise character x reader

Warnings: swearing. Steve’s an asshole and feels threatened although he’s never going to admit it.

Word count: 2,634.

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. Chapter 8. There’s a visitor?? Another new person and this is shocking, I bet you didn’t see that coming hahaha. Just a reminder I don’t follow timelines or plot, so bear with me. Happy reading...😈

CHAPTER 8/26 DAY 25 IN CAPTIVITY

There are days in your life that are horribly eerie but in hindsight are fabulously comic. Darkly comic, but comic nonetheless. There are people in your life who seem wildly strange, and they too in hindsight are actually darkly comic—they also remind you of your advantages, because they set the bar so low, breathing in your atmosphere, as if entitled to do so.

On Day 25, I had a visitor who I, even as I write these words, snicker in the memory of—this man. Maybe God and his black butterfly felt I needed a break from misery, so they sent me a good laugh, in hindsight. In hindsight. During the ordeal, I spent my energy fighting back fear, constantly flipping a stubborn switch in my brain to off.

There I was late afternoon, the dusk beginning to unfold over the house. My dinner delivery would be coming any minute. As I did every day, I gathered my tools of practice, even the ones I conjured out of air, and placed the physical and invisible implements in their rightful places. I sat on the bed, a palm to each knee, back straight, my belly soaring out like a plump, stuffed teddy bear.

Creak.

Creak, crack, closer.

Creak, crack, loud now.

Metal inserted, turning, seal broken, door opened.

No food.

-  Stand.

I stood.

-  Come here.

I went to the Captain. He put a paper grocery store bag over my head.

-  Keep a hand on my shoulder, one on the railing. I didn’t tie the bag so you can watch your feet down the stairs. Now come on. And don’t ask any stupid, fucking questions.

What the hell? You make me walk down stairs with my vision mostly obscured? What am I going to see at this point that would matter? Rephrase, what do you think I would see at this point that would matter? I know I would find an incalculable number of assets, perhaps a path to escape, but you don’t know I know that. Ape.

-  Yes, Captain.

So, as it was, I garnered no information about the world below the landing outside my jail cell, except that the stairs were wood with a faded middle from a missing runner. The floors on the lowest level were thin oak planks, and certainly scuffed, the varnish all but scraped off, from years of what looked like heavy use. We turned a few corners and entered a bright room. The light surged through the bag. He removed the bag.

-  Here she is, said the Captain to the … other Captain?

What is going on? What the hell? Am I losing my mind? There’s two of them. What?

-  Well, brother, she looks perfectly healthy to me. She’ll fetch us a pretty children to add to the family, said the duplicate of my captor to my captor.

Identical twins. This is a family business. Well dip me in molten metal and bronze me in this spot, my mouth agape.

-  Come, sit here, pleasant panther, my twin captor said to me, gesturing with a extended hand to a chair at an ornate dining room table. I noted his purple paisley scarf.

An odd sound eked through when the tinkling piano of Tchaikovsky met my ear, coming from a warbling record player on a lace-doily-covered service hutch capping the end of the table. Mauve and green floral wallpaper busied the space into an outdated Victorian, the décor antiqued further with a dark and shiny dining set. This room’s veneer, almost black and densely waxed, with creepy roses on the wall. Twelve high-backed chairs with pink-flowered cushions surrounded the table. Casserole dishes steamed in the middle. The heat was cranked to hell.

-  Pretty panther, pretty, pretty panther, come here, sit next to me. My name is Ransom, said Ransom, said the twin. There was a nasal, high pitch to his sing-song voice. His long, tasseled scarf fluttered with his exaggerated movement.

So, this is Ransom. Why is he calling me a panther? Ransom must be the source of the scarf I gathered when I had the ultrasound.

Ransom and Steve were an exact match: same face, same hair, nose, eyes, mouth, same height, even same muscles. The only difference: Ransom was chatty and a little shit; Steve, a moron and violent.

I sat in the chair next to Ransom. He placed his featherweight hand lightly on my elbow; it felt clammy even through the cloth.  He laid a large cell phone on the table, out of my reach.

-  Brother, you didn’t say our precious panther was such a cool diva, Ransom said, as he placed a dinner roll on my plate, another in the toile. I will obliterate these plates someday.

-  Ransom, let’s just eat and get the girl back upstairs. I don’t understand why you insist on eating with these things. They’re as good as dead anyway, says my so very uncouth captor.

-  Tsk. Tsk. Brother, so gruff all the time, Ransom said and then looked at me. “So sorry, growling panther, he has no manners. Don’t mind him, he’s just a brute. Let’s enjoy our dinner. I’m so tired. I flew in from Thailand yesterday. Been at the dentist all day. Old Grumpy makes me stay at a flea-trap hotel in this Godforsaken town. So, so tired, panther. So tired. Leaving on a flight tomorrow to… Oh panther, tsk tsk to me, going on about my fool self. I bet you just want to eat. Tee-hee-hee.

What movie did I watch with Bucky, my boyfriend? Ah yes, Three On A Meathook. The son and mother and father, all killers. A family of psychopaths. Tchaikovsky morphed into the screeching soundtrack of a stabbing knife through a shower curtain.

Ransom uncovered a pile of sliced meat on a platter and placed two pieces on my plate. I hoped the meat was veal, for the slab looked and smelled as such, although I could no longer trust my senses in this den of insanity. Ransom also served a pyramid of glistening green beans, a dollop of mashed potatoes, and a delicate trail of glazed carrots. He cut the meat into tiny bites, leaning in to my side as though he were my doting new mother.

-  Panther lady, my brother and I, perhaps just I, are, am, wondering, and here his high voice switched to a forced, low grumbling, like he was talking funny-serious to a toddler, “why you glare at him with such mean eyes?” He continued in a quick return to a higher voice, “What? You don’t like the food he gives you? Don’t worry, we don’t let him cook. He couldn’t even hold a job flipping bacon! Remember, brother? Remember when you tried to get away from your Ransom-poo? How’d that work out for you?”

Ransom blinked at Steve.

-  Ol’ Captain has to work with me. He’s too dumb. Anyway, anyway, I prattle on. You probably give him mean eyes because he’s such a conceited asshole. Ransom nudged my shoulder to laugh along with him. I exerted a short, “Ha,” only to catch my Steve’s stare, a cold, dead stare, which was scattered with incessant blinking. This was the first time I noted him blinking, blinking, blinking.

-  Shut the fuck up, Ransom. Let’s get this over with. Blink. Blink.

-  Now, brother, relax. The girl should enjoy a nice widdle dinny-poo. Right, panther?

-  Yes, sir.

-  Yes, sir?! Ransom howled. Yes, sir?! Oh brother, oh brother, she’s a little baby, cute baby panther.

Ransom turned to his plate. My hands were on my lap. He took a bite, his eyes darting to my clenched fists. He scowled, losing his tittering lightness in a flash of squinting eyes.

-  Pick your fucking fork up and eat the veal I made you. Now! Ransom screamed in a deep, loathing voice.

I picked up my fork. I ate the baby calf.

-  Now, brother, why is panther here calling me ‘sir’? Is this what you make her call you?

Steve slumped, shoving mashed potatoes into his open, chewing mouth.

-  Brother, brother. You’re never going to get over daddy-poo, are you? Ransom twisted to me. “Pretty panther, my brother here is very scarred. Our daddy, our sweet, sweet daddy, made us call him ‘sir.’ Even when we had the flu and were throwing up in our pressed pajamas, it was, ‘sir, I am so sorry for puking, sir.’ Oh, panther cat, guess what my sweet daddy did to my dumb brother once?”

-  Ransom, if you don’t shut your shit-spewing mouth right now… Blink. Blink. Blink, blink, blink.

Ransom interrupted with a deafening two-palm slam on the table. The glass teardrop chandelier shook as he stood to lean into a scream.

-  Oh, brother, you will shut up, Ransom said, wielding a pointing knife across the table while audibly sucking a shard of meat from his teeth with his tongue.

Steve shut up. Ransom sat down and scrunched his nose in a kitten smile to me.

Hmm, strange dynamic. I leaned a fraction closer to Ransom, perhaps wanting to forge an unconscious partnership in his mind.

-  Brother, brother, brother, so touchy. Tsk, Tsk. Ransom said “touchy” in a higher octave. “Panther cat, listen to this, my sweet baby brother, he had trouble keeping our daddy’s curfew. Oh Daddy, he kept his time on a military watch—one he had since he’d been corporal—and well, I was real good about being punctual. I was Daddy’s favorite. Naturally.”

Ransom said “naturally” while inspecting his nails, pleased with himself.

-  Anyway, dipshit here, well, he’d miss deadlines by a minute here, thirty seconds there, come in all huffin’ and a’ puffin’ out of breath. One night when we were both eighteen—we’re twins, you know. One night when we were eighteen, the day after high school graduation, in fact, Daddy sent him to get us some milk and Sanka from the corner store. Daddy says, ‘Son, I’m timing you. This is your test. You be back here at 0700 hours and not a second after. You hear?’ And my dear brother goes, ‘Yes, sir,’ which was the right answer. So boy goes running out the door. Me and Daddy watch him tear down the street, and Daddy gnarls under his breath, ‘He’s worthless. Slouch. Running like a moron.’ Something musta happen down at the store though. What was it, brother? What made you a whole two minutes late?

Pause.

Brothers staring each other into death. Sweat pouring down Steve’s jowls.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Hatred between two men, twins.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

I caged my belly with my arms.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

-  Doesn’t matter anyway. My dear, dumb brother walks in the door, and Daddy taps his watch and says, ‘Boy, it is exactly 0702. You’re two minutes late. You’re spending a year in the brig.

Steve dropped his fork. This time, however, he glared, no blinking, forcing all of his hatred on me, as though I was the one who sentenced him to the brig. It might have been because I had stopped eating, stalled enthralled, staring at Ransom to feed me more of this story. I fought back asking, what brig?

-  Panthy panther, you know what the brig was? Oh, of course you don’t. Although my brother wailed and begged, Daddy dragged him down the basement stairs, flung open a false wall, pushed him inside a jail cell we’d built the summer before, and locked the door. Was my job to bring ol’ dumb nuts his meals. I really put a lot of care into his food, panther. So, so important to stay healthy when you’re confined. Daddy’s lesson. I hope brother here is feeding you fine. Is he now? Giving you your meals?

-  Yes, sir. I didn’t look to Steve. I didn’t care to collect his approval.

-  If he doesn’t, I’ll step in and take over. So tell me, panther, for real, he’s giving you your meals, yes?

I don’t want you to step in. I don’t want to start my calculations over. Can’t start over with a new routine. Too late. I’m so close to execution day. No, I will not have you step in.

-  Yes, sir.

-  Sweety, sweetypie, just a’runnin’ a well-oiled ship, Ransom said and clapped like a wind-up monkey with cymbals.

-  Anyway, back to my story. Cranky-pants didn’t leave his cell for one full year. Released at exactly 0702, one year later on the nose.” Ransom touched his nose. “Every day, Daddy made him write, ‘The devil keeps my time. He has me under his heel when I’m late.’ He filled up 365 notebooks, one a day, with that phrase. When my brother here was set ‘free at last, free at last,’ boy turns to Daddy and says, ‘Thank you, sir,’ which was the right answer.”

Steve had not released his stare-down on me. His menacing meditation had switched to some deeper level of evil, now that I knew the source of his darkness. Blink. Blink. Blink. His look said he would show no mercy because he didn’t want my pity—pity would mean he was weakened and his daddy was wrong. Blink. Blink. Blink. Pity said he wasn’t good enough, a lower creature. His blinking burrowed a bit of fear in me, something that took a solid ten seconds to bite back and switch off. And switch off again. Blink. Blink.

Someone pushed my plate.

-  Eat your vegetables, panther, we need you healthy, Ransom said.

-  Eat your food because I’m about ready to carve that baby out of you, Steve said.

Ransom did not rebuke him. Instead, he nodded his head in agreement.

I took a sip of the milk Brad had poured me, wishing I could grab the steak knife under his upturned pinky and jam the blade into his scarf-enshrined neck. The red would blend nicely with the purple silk, I thought.

When dinner was done and cleared, Ransom pranced out and back in with a slice of apple pie, just for me.

- Panthy pantherton, take this pie on up to your room. And thanks for having this little dinny-poo with me. I like to meet our product-keepers, here and there. He flopped his free hand to and fro on the “here” and the “there.”

Product-keeper? You mean, a girl-with-children? You mean, a mother? You’re so sick, I can’t even get mad. Sick. So sick it’s hilarious.

When Ransom lifted his hand to rub my earlobe between his thumb and index finger, I contemplated knocking him off his balance and using his forward motion by pulling and twisting his arm so he flipped on his back—all from his very own physics; then I would crush his windpipe with my heel, my physics. Just like my daddy-poo taught me. Once that maneuver was complete, I’d swiftly grab the fire poker at my left flank to impale my captor who would be standing stunned. But again, my condition dampened any chances of this obvious and easy solution, so I took hold of the apple pie as it was offered.

I marched half-blinded, bagged again, carrying my Americana dessert up to my cell, Steve at my back.

Normally he would have shoved me inside. This time he stopped, taking me in from his standing state. 

- You look at me like I’m beneath you, bitch. Since Day One, you don’t blink. Let me tell you something, I will gut you. You will not win. Don’t go grinning over that little story my brother told you.

He left me on this pleasant bedtime wish. Tucked me in with his twinkling, gnashing grin.

I better behave so he sticks with his established patterns.

Taglist: @cjand10

[canonicallysoulmates]

Just saw your post about the post phase 1 Marvel movies and the meme you used for CA:CW. So I'm here to ask and get you cancelled. What did you think about the movie? Are you Team Stark or Team Rogers?

........................................................I knew this day would come......okay, let's get me cancelled!

I hate this movie, I hate this movie with every fiber of my being. Watching it was torture, it as the longest 20hrs of my life. It was like living out one of those very confusing math problems I started this movie at 10am somehow 6pm rolls around and there are still 2hrs left! Coño cómo?! I watched this with my mom, and when we checked how much time was left we were left looking at each other like 'que carajo what twilight zone bullshit is this?' It's one of those Marvel movies that I am so glad I did not waste my money on, I wish I could get a refund for my time but I made my choice and I shall now have to deal with it.

I hate this movie for many reasons but I'm not gonna make y'all wait any longer for what you're really here for because I know what y'all really want to know is whether I am Team Iron Man or Team Captain America. When it comes to the political aspects ie. the Accords, I am Team Neither.

Now, I cannot get into a comprehensive debate about the Accords because the writers did a shitty ass job, in a 2 and a 1/2 hour movie that felt like a lifetime, at explaining what exactly the Accords are in the movie universe. Emphasis on the movie universe, because I have seen debates go on in this motherfucking fandom where some people will bring up aspects from the comics Registration Acts but we're not talking about the comics okay, we're talking about the movies! And they're two fucking different things! And the movie did a shitty ass job at explaining what the Accords are, and that's one of the reasons I hate this movie: that it's so badly written.

But back to the point, which is where I stand on the teams when it comes to the politics, I am Team Neither because ultimately they were both idiots on how they handled this, and I think they both have good points like yes the Avengers and other superheroes should 100% be held accountable if they fuck up, the fact that they are superheroes and the "good guys" doesn't mean that their actions shouldn't have consequences but at the same time Steve's mistrust of the government and concerns that the team and others could be weaponized are also valid so I think they both have good points when it comes down to it and the smart thing to do - and in my opinion what would have made a much better film- would have been to come together and make like a counterproposal, decide on amendments, try to ensure they can get a representative so they have a voice on the table.

So, there you go when it comes to the Accords I am Team Neither however when it comes to the characters and their actions I am 1,000% Team Tony. At the end of the day he wanted to do what was best for both people and for his team, he wanted to keep the team together because he knew they were stronger together, and he was thinking long term not short term.

And then there's Steve who is an asshole in this film and completely lacks self awareness, cause there's a scene in the film after they've found out about the Accords where Steve goes "that's because he already made up his mind" about Tony and I'm just like bitch so did you, pot meet kettle, Rogers you knew from the get go that you weren't going to sign those papers don't go acting different and then like- here's the thing Steve has some very good points when it comes to the Accords but one of his points is that the UN is filled with people with agendas and agendas change which true but also motherfucker you yourself have an agenda! The whole Sokovia mess is an example that they cannot be trusted to hold themselves or each other accountable because inevitably the time will come where they'll want to protect their team mate like we see in this movie Steve do with Bucky, or how he wanted to protect Wanda because he looks at her as if she were a child not an adult. Steve, you lot are not exempt from having your own agendas and biases.

And through pretty much the entire movie, he has this whole my way or the highway attitude like this man does not know the meaning of compromise in this film, and he has such tunnel vision for Bucky- and listen! listen, listeeeeeen, I get it, I don't judge Steve for making his bestie a priority; I understand that Bucky is incredibly important to Steve, that he's the one person who's gonna look at him as just Steve and not as the Steve Rogers, I get that he carries a guilt over what happened to his friend, I understand he misses him, I understand all of that and respect the ride or die game but goddamn he was so focused on being a good friend to Bucky that he forgot about everyone and everything else and was a shit friend to Tony.

Actually a lot of people in this film were shit to Tony for no goddamn reason but Steve was such a shitty friend not telling Tony about his parents, that was a shitty ass thing to do and listen! I know what some of y'all are thinking you're thinking some version of 'he wanted to protect Tony' shut the fuck up. No, no, that's an excuse and it's a cheap one, you know damn well that was a shitty thing for Steve to do and y'all know damn well you would have reacted the same way Tony did if someone who you thought was your goddamn friend knew about something horrible that happened to people that were important to you and they never told you; that kind of shit hurts, and finding out someone you thought of as a friend doesn't care about you as much as you care about them hurts.

And y'all know goddamn well how emotions work, you know emotions aren't gonna wait for the rational brain to kick in don't some of y'all go playing dumb as if you didn't know this shit. Same way deep down all of y'all know Tony was holding his punches, that man gave Thanos a fight and got some blood if he had wanted to kill Bucky he would have. Don't none of y'all motherfuckers try to play games and act like you don't know this info.

Steve was a shit friend to Tony. Period. The least he could have done is have some empathy or compassion towards Tony when he saw his parent's being killed- and I swear to motherfucking god to the person who is getting close to their keyboard thinking of saying he showed compassion by not killing him back the fuck away from your motherfucking keyboard what did I tell you about playing stupid, this is properly tagged, stay in your fucking lane. Some of y'all be acting as if it were still 2016 and we're gonna be talking about that too, anon wanted my opinion on this film so now I'm going off.

Back to what I was saying, in some ways Steve wasn't a perfect friend to Bucky either cause he kept looking at Bucky and thinking of the guy he used to know but Bucky's not that person anymore, he's been through a lot of shit and it feels at times like Steve didn't fully realize that.

I hate Steve in this movie, I wanna punch him in the throat; he's an ass, he thinks he's above the rules, he's unaware of his own flaws, he might be a good friend to Bucky but that's it. I don't blame Steve though I blame the writers cause they're the ones who wrote him this way; moving on from Steve, I wanna talk about Wanda real quick, I don't hate the character of Wanda but I do hate the way she was written in this film, I hate that the writers expect us as an audience to look at this adult and think of her as a defenseless child who should be exempt from consequences, I hate that instead of actually doing something with her and exploring some interesting dynamics they just give her an AI boyfriend and a pinterest quote which sounds nice but falls flat especially considering she says said quote as she uses her powers (which is what people are afraid of) to send her love interest down several floors of a building. They could have done so many cool and interesting things with her, shame they didn't.

Another thing I hate about this film is what it did to the fandom, and how it was promoted because it was very much promoted as a pick your fighter, pick a side type of movie and after this movie came out I feel like the divide between Tony fans and Steve fans grew toxically and the effects are still seen to this day like some people really do be acting as if it were still 2016 and attacking others for what side they went with or for who their fav between the two is, and I'll be very honest a lot of the hate I have seen has been directed towards Tony and Tony fans. I hate that, I hate when TPTB deliberately pits fans against each other cause it just encourages a toxic environment.

Let me think was there anything that I liked about this film- wait, oh my god talking about all these other things I hate almost made me forget the thing I hate the most about this movie: it's pointless. Its existence is unnecessary; the biggest aspect of this film isn't the politics of the Accords, it's Steve and Bucky and how far Steve is willing to go for Bucky and have him by his side...but Endgame exists. The end of Endgame turns this film pointless, because the only true point of this movie is the relationship between Steve and Bucky that's the biggest takeaway from the whole thing, but then you have the end of Endgame where Steve just leaves Bucky.

I hated this film before I saw Endgame but after.....I never plan to watch Civil War again but if I did I'm pretty sure I'd self combust cause I'd be so angry I'd scream every time Steve appeared cause that son of a bitch ends up leaving; tears the whole team apart only to end up leaving his friend behind in the end.

I hate this film, I hate everything about it, well that's not true I love the Tony and Peter stuff, but aside from a couple of things I hate this movie, someone give me time stone I'm eliminating it from the timeline.

So, there you go those are my thoughts on CA: CW.

In conclusion, I am Team Neither on the Accords, Team Tony on everything else, Steve I still like you but this movie demoted you in my eyes and makes me wanna punch you in the throat.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 10

The Mission

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: the mission to find Bucky goes horribly wrong

Warnings: mentions of non-con, torture, violence, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

THE mission would be awkward, to say the least. I didn't stop cursing my dad and his sly smile the whole way there. Of course he had to assign me and Steve of all people to do the mission. Great. A whole weekend of bitter, grumbling Steve and his not-so-subtle death glares. The act pulled up outside the motel, dropping us off with our suitcases that secretly only held a few clothing changes but were mostly filled with kit. We trudged up to the from desk, keeping our eyes down. The hood of my baggy grey jumper was pulled up, my hair draped around my face as to cover me. Steve wore a cap (haha, funny) and some glasses, his jacked zipped up the whole way so he could turtle back into it in he needed to.

"How can I help you?" The perky woman spoke from the other side of the counter, tearing her head away from her computer for a second.

"Um, we have a room. For, ugh, Johnson." Steve said in a deeper voice than normal. The girl turned her attention back to the computer, typing something before walking over to the back room, sliding a keycard onto the counter when she returned. "We have two rooms." Steve continued. She shook her head.

"It says right here one room." She corrected, pointing to her computer screen. I rolled my eyes, haha, very funny Tony. Steve nodded, grabbing the room key and walking off. "Have a great stay!" She called after us, although we were already at the door.

I sighed as I walked through the door of the small room, surveying the two twin beds, small bathroom - which Steve would barely fit in - and tiny wardrobe. Tony really spared no expense when it came to his best friend, I thought with a laugh in my head.

"Left or right?" Steve asked, taking off his glasses and hat.

"Left." I said, dumping the bag on the end of the bed to my left. Steve nodded curtly, dropping his bad to the floor and pulling a t-shirt and some sweats out. I grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts from mine, walking towards the bathroom.

Once inside, I slipped into the clothes, brushing my teeth with one of the provided toothbrushes and washing my face with a small towel. I walked out, dumping my other cloths into my bag before climbing into the creaky bed. I spared a glance for Steve, who was laid in his bed, eyes trained on the wall.

"Night." I said, before my head crashed to the horrible pillow and falling into a broken and unpleasant sleep.

...

The next day, we were up and ready. Not a word spoken until we left the motel. We reached the abandoned computer lab we were supposed to check out, but before we could get further my vision was overcrowded by darkness.

I groggily woke up, my head lifting slowly from where it was hanging forward. I went to move my wrists but nothing happened, instead the rattling of chains filled my ears. I looked up to see I was suspended from the ceiling, my feet barely touching the ground so I was uncomfortably resting on the tips of my toes. My arms ached like hell, my head overcome with a splitting headache. I groaned, my gaze finally landing on Steve in front of me.

My eyes widened upon seeing him. He was starring back at me from where he sat in an armchair, his hands and legs secured to the chair by thick metal that even he couldn't break and a similar strap was across his chest. It was only when I went to speak that I noticed that a cloth was in my mouth, tied around the back of my head and preventing me from doing anything. Shit. HYRDA. They were the only ones other than the avengers who new who I was and what I could do.

"Y/n? You awake?" Steve hesitantly asked. I nodded. Before he could talk to me any more the heavy metal door creaked open, an all-to-familiar man walking in.

"This is simple, you tell me what I want to know and you leave, unharmed. If not, I guess I'll get to have a bit of fun." The General spoke with a menacing grin, waving some controller around in the air. "So, Cap, why are you here?" Nothing. "I said, why are you here?" When he was once again met with silence, a scream ripped through the room, Steve's body attempting to convulse in the restraints.

"Why are you here?" He shouted, Steve's screams echoing for longer this time.

...

After what felt like hours, the General kicked a wall near by, groaning in frustration.

"This isn't working. I guess I'll have to take a different approach." He muttered to himself, chucking the remote to the side and walking up behind me. Shivers rocked through me as he moved my hair over one shoulder, bringing his lips to my ear. "I wonder if your screams still sound the same." He all but whispered, the metal restraints around my arms falling free. His thick, rough hand held the back of my neck in a painful grip, pulling at the delicate tendons as he yanked me to my feet and led me a few meters away to a large trough of water.

My knees hit the floor harshly and I winced, trying my hardest to move away from the water but his grip on my neck only tightened as he lowered my face until it sat an inch above the water. Steve looked on with a heavy - yet emotionless - stare.

"Why. Are. You. Here?" He said in a sickly calm tone, and when met with no answer once again, my head was submerged. The realisation hit me a second later, my mouth clamping shut at the water began to flood into it and up to my nostrils. Eventually the pressing weight on my chest begun, my mouth opening with a muffled scream as the liquid flowed into my lungs.

"Stop!" I heard a muffled shout, followed by a snide chide.

"Tell me what you're here for!"

No response.

Suddenly my head was pulled up, water sputtering from me as I struggled to take in enough air.

"What are you here for?!" And I was under again. And again. And again. And again.

But there was never a response.

"I'll stop when you give me answers." The statement was directed at Steve, but scared me still, my now wet and dangled hair still wrapped around the man's fist and my knees now burning from the rough concrete floor biting through my tactical gear.

I mustered my strength, gaze raising to see the worry on Steve's face. I threw him a wink.

"I can do this-" I spluttered, my cough resounding around the room. "All day." I said breathily, more coughs climbing my throat. I could hear the smirk in the man's voice.

"Me too, sweet cheeks."

My head was under again.

...

Soon enough the General got bored, ordering some guards to escort us back to some cells. My heart must've stopped beating in my chest when I saw the cell, abandoned and clearly barely touched in the weeks I was gone. I had stopped dead in my tracks, only to start moving again with a shove from one of the guards.

Even worse, I was soon being put into the silencer again, the metal contraption leaving me mute as I simply looked forward with shellacked eyes. Steve looked in in what seemed to be pity as the guards wrestled him into the soldier's cell, locking him down in place with the thick metal straps that they used to use on The Winter Soldier.

I longed to see him again, to feel his skin on mine as his lips conceded every inch of my body, his hot breath on my neck and next to my ear as he whispered sweet and dirty nothings, longed to him him inside me again, reaching all the right places and-

The snap of the door as it slammed shut pulled my instantly from my thoughts, the noise resounding around the room almost mockingly as me and Steve were left behind, simply staring at each other.

...

Days past, and I'd been keeping count only by the general routine we seemed to face at what I assumed was daily. Four days back in the hell hole, and all I wanted to do was gauge the General's eyes out or plunge a knife through someone's head. But HYDRA new my strengths, my weaknesses, and used them against me - against us.

One thing I could never stand was the cold. I guess you could say that's how I found myself where I currently was, locked into a glass, soundproof chamber, whilst the menacing, malevolent clouds of cold rolled in at a torturously slow pace - slow enough that I felt the temperature drop at every degree that it decreased by. I was shivering, spluttering and so, so cold. My teeth chattered so hard behind the silencer I doubted I'd have any teeth left soon, my fingers were so cold they were a bit rand red and my eyes lashes had formed little icicles.

Steve was once again detained on the other side, the General clearly pressing questions at him that he wouldn't answer and I couldn't hear. I'd have to assume that when Steve answered the questions I would be allowed out of this chamber, but I very much doubted that Steve would give in quickly.

All of a sudden people seemed to look around as if a loud noise had been blaring, the General's face worrisome as he darted from the room.

In that moment I guessed that the intrusion alarm must've sounded, and my suspicions were only confirmed when a circular slab of the ceiling crashed down in front of the chamber. I attempted to smile as I caught sight of Clint lowering himself down through the hole he'd created, eyes lighting up when his met mine. When the man made contact with the ground, he fished some kind of gadget from his pocket, making quick work of Steve's metal bounds before helping the super soldier to his feet.

Steve was a little wobbly at first, but steadies himself quickly and rushed over to me. His fists pounded at the cage, but the glass wouldn't give in to his strength nor to that of any of counts little Clint's and gizmos. They looked at me with scared expressions, the glass clouding over with the crawling ice as it coated the glass with its coldness. Clints's head snapped away to the door, soon followed by Steve's and I had gathered that someone was coming.

Both avengers quickly looked back to me, and al I could make out was an 'I'm sorry' that had called from Steve's lips before they were fleeing out of the door.

...

I faced the punishment for their actions. I couldn't even look at myself out of the shame I currently felt. I was allowed a shower, but I had guards stood barely a meter outside the curtain as I raked my shaking fingers brought the hair, legs unstable and body sore from exactly what I endured.

They'd shown no mercy, not relent. After hours, I was exhausted, so worn out I could barely keep my eyes open. But I wanted my shower - needed it - to scrub away all remnants of what just happened.

It was just my luck of of HYDRA's missions had succeeded, that they had twenty men all awaiting an award for their hard efforts.

And reward them, the General did.

I couldn't help the vomit that crawled up my throat, nor the gagging as I threw up in the corner of the cubicle. I swiped away the remainders on my face, grabbing a brush and scrabbling my skin raw in order to forget them. But nothing worked, and I doubted it ever would.

...

Battered, shaking, thinning, jittery, bruised and broke, my body could barely take any other day of this. I had lost count of the days by now, and I couldn't find in in myself to even care how long it'd been. I was sure it hadn't been nearly as long as it felt - Steve had probably only been gone for a few days at the most. But my body said otherwise, my aching limbs and hoarse throat enough evidence.

I had become familiar with the sound of my own screams and cries, as many of the HYDRA agents were now, too. Every day, they spent as much time as they could torturing me, trying to get the information they needed from my and failing miserably.

Even though I'd only been with the avengers for a few weeks, my venom and resentment for HYDRA ran so deep it was enough to keep me quiet. I'd do anything to make sure that non of their plans ever succeed again. So if that meant enduring this torture, do he it.

I looked up suddenly as the door opened loudly, a grimace finding my face when two guards stepping in the room. But they didn't stop at the door to bark orders at me like usual, no. They continued into the cell, yanking me up my my arms and tugging my out of the small cell with hard expression occupying their faces.

I yelped as I was pushed harshly into a room I’d never seen before, my feet stumble over one another as I tumbled through the door. The guards filed in behind me, hands clasped in front of them as my head rose to meet gazes with the General’s.

“Ready to talk yet, Miss Stark?” He asked, an almost mocking coo inclining his words. He released me from the silencer, so that I could answer him. I glared up at him, my knees uncomfortable against the harsh concrete floor. He crouched down to my level, peering into my eyes with raised brows in question.

“Fuck you.” I snapped, mustering all the saliva I could before spitting it at his face. He flinched back when it splattered over his cheek, his fingers swiping through the spittle before he was shaking it from them and standing back to his full height.

“It appears this one is never going to cooperate. If she won’t give us information, why let our experimentations on her possibly...benefit the girl the the future?” The general spike menacingly to the guards behind me. “How about way find a way to shut her up?”

[regina-del-cielo]

Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again

I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf. 

I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.

Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.

By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.

For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)

Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.

(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)

(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)

The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.

They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.

They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.

They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine. 

The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.

But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.

At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.

He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.

They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.

“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.

Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.

When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.

And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?

(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)

For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.

But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.

After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.

(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)

Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.

The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.

Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.

Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.

“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*

Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too? 

If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.

(spoiler: it works)

When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.

(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)

seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.

(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)

The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.

(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)

“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)

“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.

“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.

Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.

“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.

“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”

“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.

“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.

“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”

“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.

“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.

As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could  easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.

But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.

His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain. 

He’s not alone anymore.