#seems like the banners ill be going for next patch

[plsleafmelon]

and thats it for today !! (mental dmg ftw)

[smolla-than-a-bug]

03 | mission: impossible — uncharted waters

sano shinichiro x reader

banner from @ichig0-miruku !

having only each other to rely on for most of their lives, the sano brothers make great partners in crime. however, little manjiro has taken on a new solo mission under his brother’s nose. his role? to play wingman

navi | series m.list | next

content — fem!reader, gakuen babysitters au, baby toman gang, shinichiro is a hopeless romatic (heavy on the hopeless), manjiro gets lost in public space

notes — 3.2k+ wc. the last time i went to an aquarium in japan was like three years ago dont @ me if u spot any inaccuracies 🏃‍♀️

On a normal day, Manjiro would say the walk back home on a Friday was his most favorite way to end the week. You always came home with them to spend the rest of the day winding down with your best friend and his baby brother. He had hoped that you could finally read him a story without interruptions, but unfortunately, his spirits were slightly diminished when his own brother invited the Akashi siblings over too. He was already feeling drowsy at the thought of spending the rest of the day with Haru. Not to bear ill will towards Haru, it's just that their personalities clashed too much.

"So your parents are going away for a week, huh?" Shinichiro had asked, eyebrows furrowing in thought just before he invited the Akashi siblings. So we can help you out as much as we can, he had said, "Right Manjiro?" Of course, he disagreed, but he nodded for his brother's sake. "And Manjiro and Haru can spend more time together!"

"I think we'll be heading home—"

"But nii-chan!"

"—but I do need to stop by the convenience store to pick up a few things for Senju. I guess we can walk with you guys there."

"Yay!"

Shinichiro let Manjiro walk today. Usually, he'd walk between you and his brother holding both of your hands, but when he looked over at you, Haru was already demanding that you carry him. Manjiro's mood fell, but he carried on holding Shinichiro anyway.

A trail of ants caught his attention. The loopy line they walked reminded him of a drawing he saw pinned on the walls of the daycare the other day. It was a drawing of a flying bee. The ants reminded him of the broken line trail that indicated the bee's movement.

The ants lead him to a patch of flowers, and there he found a brilliant idea.

"Nii-chan!" he pointed.

Shinichiro bent down to his level, following his line of sight to the small bundle of daisies sprouting from a small grassy area outside the gate of someone's house. "You want one?" Manjiro nodded, trailing behind his brother who picked a single one for him and brought it to his face. Manjiro's eyes sparkled.

He then walked off to the same patch of flowers and plucking a one for himself, ignoring both the flower between Shinichiro's fingers and his confusion. Happy with the one in his hold, he signaled for Shinichiro to pick him up, feeling more like he was floating by the second.

He gestured at the daisy still in his brother's hand, who was still feeling a little lost. He pointed at the flower, then at you. Shinichiro's ears were turning red again.

"Shin, I think he wants you to give it to Y/N."

Manjiro pointed at you again.

"Oh, don't tease him, Omi. Look at the poor guy, he's all red!"

Shinichiro ignored you both. He couldn't look you in the eye as he extended the flower to you, limbs burning when he felt your fingers brush against his. He only looked up when you playfully nudged his shoulder in thanks. Then, he recalled something Manjiro had shown him a few days back. "Hey Y/N..."

A few days ago, Manjiro was hit in the face by a flyer being carried by the wind, and the light in his eyes seemed to gleam when he saw the illustrations of Shinagawa Aquarium on it. See, Manjiro had a thing for fish. He has mini plushies of different species of fish, he's especially fond of taiyaki (a fish-shaped cake), and his favorite movie of all time is Finding Nemo! He's never been to an aquarium before, but when Shinichiro saw his baby brother's expression right then and there, he could already envision how much he'd enjoy actually going to one. Before he knew it, he was already pocketing most of his allowance and saving them up for tickets, and last time he counted, he had extra for one more.

"...would you like to accompany me and Manjiro to the Shinagawa Aquarium? I was planning to take him tomorrow, and I think he'd really like it if you came with us."

You were about to say yes when Haru crashed into your leg. "Oh! Good idea, Shin-chan! Nii-chan, we're going with them too, right? Right?" You chuckled when Takeomi sighed, clearly exhausted by his own brother's hyperactiveness and need to butt into every conversation. Meanwhile, Shinichiro was internally panicking because he didn't have enough savings to pay for all of you, including the Akashis.

Lucky for him, Takeomi was having none of it and decided they'd be staying at home tomorrow.

You each said your goodbyes when you reached the convenience store Takeomi needed to go to, though Haru was a bit more hesitant to separate from you—just a bit. He was crying the entire time, you almost didn't want to leave him yourself, but with some convincing, he finally let go of your leg. He's like some sort of snot monster, Manjiro thought.

That Saturday, Shinichiro woke up in a good mood; not to say that it was unusual, but for some reason, his body didn’t feel heavy at all when he rolled out of bed. The moment he regained consciousness, he didn’t even need to fight through weighted eyelids or deal with the crisis of debating whether or not it was worth it to get up exactly on time and not sacrifice a few more minutes to sleep. Rather, he was wide awake as soon as he opened his eyes, and he practically floated out of bed before his alarm even went off.

Perhaps the thought of finally being able to treat his baby brother to a little field trip of their own gave him the biggest sense of accomplishment he’s ever had in his life so far. Especially considering the fact that he saved up for it all on his own. It had been a difficult road, being a minor and looking for some sort of income, as his grandfather was growing weaker as the years go by. Sooner or later, it wouldn’t be a sound detail to be reliant on the old man.

At this point where grandpa Sano was being less and less involved in their lives, it was just Manjiro and himself against the world. Shinichiro never knew their parents, so he had to step in and fill out that position for Manjiro. He didn’t really mind; that was just how it is, and Manjiro is the closest person he holds dear.

He’s never really had any close friends until high school either. All his time outside of school was usually allotted for taking care of Manjiro back when he was still barely a year old and wailing at all hours of the day, when he was learning how to speak, and when he developed the skills to walk. Sometimes, he’d even need to cut his classes to attend to an emergency back at home. It’s a miracle he passed his middle school classes.

The transition to high school was by far the hardest thing he’s ever had to experience. In his old school, people were already aware of his situation at home, and nobody would really mind it. It was the norm there, an everyday occurrence. Going to an entirely different school meant that he wouldn’t know what to expect from his peers, the classes, the teachers… Of course, he didn’t mind opening up about having Manjiro to take care of, but the problem that came with that was navigating his way through a full day in such a way that worked for him, academically, and that allowed him to still put most of his priority on Manjiro.

The first few days were rough. Shinichiro couldn’t focus well during lectures because he was caught up in his head worrying about Manjiro at home, most of the time. The first time he tried leaving class when a simple text message from his grandfather called for it, his teacher questioned him in front of the entire class about why his ringer was on and why he was using his phone during class hours. It took some time before he was able to get himself out of the situation and go home to Manjiro.

What’s more was that it seemed as though every time he needed to cut class during a lecture, he would miss the most important parts of the lesson. It easily made him feel that he was falling behind on most of his subjects, and he knows that it’ll only get more difficult as the year goes by. Thankfully, that’s where you stepped in.

He had never really paid attention to his classmates, being mentally preoccupied as he is. Though, when he met you, he came to regret not being more conscious of other people. It was a given that you were attractive, and when you approached him to offer your assistance in case he needed help, he thinks that you’re an absolute angel. A blessing from whatever gods there may be in the world and a breath of fresh air.

What started as simply sending him copies of your notes for lectures he missed quickly became short tutoring sessions on weekends because he was having difficulty processing the heavier parts of the lesson on his own. Lucky for him, you were a great at explaining each one of those concepts, and in exchange for your help, he would bring you snacks and sometimes homemade treats.

That was also when you first met Manjiro. He had been a little wary of you in the beginning since Shinichiro had never really had friends to bring over before, but he almost immediately grew curious and even attached to you. Your caring nature was what drew him in, and he became comfortable with you so fast.

Speaking of you, Shinichiro physically felt a rise in temperature as soon as he remembered that he invited you to come along with him and Manjiro to the aquarium. He doesn’t know how he managed to do that without making a complete fool of himself. He doesn’t know when or how he even developed the courage to get those words out of his mouth.

Regardless, he’s glad his invitation didn’t backfire because he can only stare at Manjiro pressed up against the glass as a school of fish swims by while you crouch down beside him to point out the other species in the exhibit. Manjiro looks so in awe of everything around him, he makes sure not to let a single thing evade his eyesight. When you walked through the ocean tunnel display, Manjiro had his eyes stuck on the projections of ocean water on the floor, plotting his steps before looking up and noticing that he was, in a way, under the sea and surrounded by various sea creatures.

When Shinichiro is with you and Manjiro, he prefers straying back and walking behind you, so that he can see both of you entirely. Now, he does this often on the way to school and back, but never in a setting like this one. It almost feels intimate, in the most domestic and familial way. Between your small cluster of three, seeing Manjiro trap your finger in his tiny fist and drag you along, pointing at the next exhibit he wants to see as you merely laugh and follow him. The best scenes that will forever be ingrained in his memory are the ones where Manjiro gets a bit too ahead of himself and keeps wandering around with you following him close behind, only for you to stop him to wipe the snot dripping from his nose while his pupils chase the sea creature he wanted to see.

Though learning about the ocean is great, Shinichiro isn't all that into it. He's merely interested in being able to spend quality time with both of you. So far, his most favorite thing to have happened today was when you were all walking towards the next building to the Penguin Land exhibition, and Manjiro being short as he is, demanded to be hoisted up on his big brother's shoulders. Shinichiro had never felt so strong before, and the best part was that you were there to see it. If anything, your presence alone acted as fuel for him the whole day. But of course, no one can go through a tourist spot the entire day without grabbing a bite to eat for sustenance.

It was your idea. Since Shinichiro paid for your tickets, you agreed that you would be paying for the food. You had instructed him to find a table and wait for you there so that you could make sure he wouldn't try paying in your place and dismiss your agreement.

He made sure not to look around too far from the food stall you lined up at, but he did try to look for an area that was less busy and packed all around with people. "You think this is a good spot Manjiro?" he glanced over, gesturing to the big blue umbrellas that shaded the outdoor tables. When Manjiro nodded, Shinichiro sat him on one of the chairs on the nearest table.

He and Manjiro were just casually talking for a bit—talking as in the form of communication they always do: Shinichiro asking him questions and Manjiro responding with either a nod, a grunt, or sometimes the occasional one to two words. Manjiro seemed to be very happy today, replying to each "Are you having fun?" and "What did you think of the last exhibit?" with a wide grin that defined his eyes into crescents and an enthusiastic nod. Not to mention, he was clutching the spotted seal stuffed animal, which you had gotten him after walking through the seal tunnel, the like it was the most important thing in the world.

An elderly lady with white in her hair approached their table, cooing at Manjiro. "Excuse me. Why aren't you just the cutest thing?" she chuckled. "I'm here with my own grandchildren. I'm just waiting out here for them to come out of the dolphin show—knees aren't like they used to be you know? Anyway, I hope you don't mind my asking, but you look like a nice young man. Would you happen to know where the restrooms are? Been lookin' all around for 'em and can't seem to find it, still!"

Shinichiro kindly regarded her, standing up so he could point over the heads of the growing crowd and direct the lady towards the nearest restroom.

"Thank you very much, dear. You take care now!"

He waved her goodbye before sitting back down beside Manjiro. Manjiro? Manjiro! He was there not even less than a second ago! Where could he have gone in such a short amount of time without him noticing?

Shinichiro shot up again, knees colliding with the underside of the tabletop. He was frantically looking under the table and around the nearby dining areas. "Manjiro?" his voice rose in volume the more he called for his brother. "Manjiro!" He went up to a few people, desperately asking each one of them if they'd seen a little boy, about three years of age, wearing his favorite blue Finding Nemo hoodie that you gave him when you found out it was his favorite movie, but every single time they said no, the closer he was to ripping his own hair out and the closer he was to letting the tears start pouring out.

"Shin!" you arrived carrying packages of food in your hands, worry clouding your features when you noticed his state of panic. "Shin, what's wrong? Where's Manjiro?"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I looked away for one second and he was gone!"

He should have kept a closer eye on Manjiro. He should have been holding his hand at least. Public areas are extremely dangerous and he's well aware of it, or so he thought until he was actually experiencing first hand the terror of losing a child in a crowd.

You set down the food you bought before grabbing his hand and finding your way to the nearest help desk. They scanned security cameras and contacted the security guards stationed around before finally, they found a toddler with blond hair waddling around by himself. Both you and Shinichiro hadn't even given them time to offer to escort you there before you were running towards the place they said he was in

When you got there, Shinichiro immediately scooped Manjiro in for an embrace, lightly berating him for wandering off alone. The toddler in question, on the other hand, was just confused as to why his brother and friend looked so distressed. Shinichiro felt you bend down behind them as your hand came up to pat Manjiro's head. "Don't ever go off alone again, okay?"

This time Manjiro nodded, returning Shinichiro's embrace and squeezing him back as hard as he could.

What Shinichiro was most curious about was why he even wandered off in the first place. Manjiro had always been a curious kid, but he'd never consciously, willingly walked away from him. In fact, he still gets separation anxiety from time to time, so what made this situation different?

As if sensing the collapse that was about to occur in his brain, Manjiro placed both his hands on Shinichiro's cheeks, pushed them together so he looked like a blobfish. His brows pulled together in confusion at the unusually serious expression on Manjiro's face. "Nii-chan." A verbal response was difficult to get through with his cheeks all squished, so he hummed instead (ignoring the fact that you laughed) to prompt Manjiro to continue. The boy pointed to a stand nearby where a lady was luring in aquarium guests to try their luck at opening clamshells.

Shinichiro picked him up, and instinctively took your hand in his free one before walking over to where Manjiro pointed. Apparently, for this exhibition, it was popular for guests to try their luck in opening up clamshells to see if they get one with a pearl inside. Sure enough, Manjiro wanted to try his.

He sighed, thinking about how light his wallet would be if he gave in, but he couldn't resist the look on Manjiro's face and ended up letting him try one. The lady behind the counter was humoring Manjiro and he seemed to be thoroughly entertained. Manjiro waited with baited anticipation for the lady to open the clam, only to be filled with disappointment once it had been revealed to be empty.

"Oh! I'm sorry, it seems like the odds weren't in your favor today little man. Would you like to try another one?"

Shinichiro was about to decline her offer when he felt you tugging on his hand that was still intertwined with yours, suddenly embarrassed. You accepted the lady's offer in his place, shutting down his panic when you said the next one would be on you.

You and Manjiro had the same expression on your faces waiting for the lady to open up the next one, Shinichiro had to laugh. You slapped his shoulder. Lo and behold, a tiny pearl presented itself. Manjiro was practically beaming.

"Congratulations!" said the lady, asking Manjiro if he'd like to keep the pearl as is or if he'd prefer if they made a quick necklace of it. He chose the latter.

Unbeknownst to Shinichiro, Manjiro had this all thought out. He was a little more giddy about finally getting a pearl than he thought he’d be (he felt the triumph lifting him up, really), but nonetheless, it did go according to plan. The pearl was pretty, but it wasn’t for him. He wanted to get it for no one other than you! And the best part: He’d have his brother give it to you.

all rights reserved © smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy or repost my works. reblogs/feedback/comments are appreciated!

tokyo revengers taglist — @victoirey

m:i taglist — @ichig0-miruku @asawa-ni-senju @michiru-kail @hanniejji @uwukris @the2ndl @eternallyvenus @vanderaliwaal @imkumichan @r3komuse @sunahyejin @crapimahuman @kamikoii @beidouluvr

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: The Still of the Forest - 6

The Still of the Forest:  A Bruce Banner Fanfic

The Still of the Forest Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bruce Banner x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1894

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Bruce has been existing in a perpetual state of stress in an attempt to keep the Hulk at bay.  What he needs is rest.  Somewhere peaceful where he doesn’t have to worry about hurting anyone and he can just let go.  He needs the still of the forest and maybe - if he’s lucky - someone to share it with him.

Chapter 6

Bruce Banner was a scientist down to his core.  There was nothing quite like the feeling of working on a problem and finally having a breakthrough.  Understanding something that had been troubling you for a while was one of the best feelings in the world and he was addicted to it like it was a drug.  Maybe because so much of his life was chaos.  If he could find order in one thing, then he felt maybe there was order in everything.

For months he’d been working on the problem of getting you from the patch of forest to the side of the Avengers Compound to somewhere with more nature reserve where there might be more of your kind.  The problem seemed to be that when you were removed from your environment, you started to fade.  It was how you had become separated from anyone like you in the first place.

Even going to the compound next door from the forest where you resided would make you feel weak and slightly unstable with your connection to reality.  Bruce wanted to find out what that was all about too.  You seemed to photosynthesize, and electronic equipment made had a very strong negative effect on your physiology.  There was definitely some need you had to be in contact with the forest that when broken caused you real harm.

He had been at a school science fair acting as a celebrity judge when the idea had come to him.  One of the kids had created a miniature ecosystem for a salamander in a glass jar.  The small terrarium that held an entire ecosystem made Bruce realize he’s been looking at things from the wrong angle.  He didn’t need to know why you became ill when you were away from the forest, he needed a way to bring the forest with you.

Thus he had begun construction on a large, portable vivarium.  It was a huge task, as he needed part of the forest in it, which meant room for trees and their root structure.  That meant not only did it have to hold a large volume, it also needed to carry a large weight and still move.  The amount of soil to carry multiple trees in a vivarium would be significant.”

He recruited Tony for the design and construction - it was more his wheelhouse, and Bruce spent his time deciding what would need to go into the giant structure to make it safe for you to move in.  He spent hours studying the plant life and ground structure.  Making notes of leaf litter and native herbs and fungus.  He wanted to make sure it was perfect because he didn’t know how to find more people like you.  It had to be able to take many trips to remote nature reserves in case the search for others was difficult and required many trips to remote places.

Bruce had another problem though.  He was falling in love.  He’d felt it in the past so he knew what the feeling was.  His heart skipped a beat each time he saw you and his stomach always felt full of knots, and yet there was no place he preferred to be more.  Being with you always gave him a better feeling than any scientific breakthrough had given him.  He was no longer the small, pale scientist locked in his lab scared of the Hulk coming out and destroying everything.  He was fitter.  He had a tan from spending so much time outside.  He felt lighter and more in synch with the other guy.  He was no longer nervous or scared.

You had given him that and he felt like there was nothing he could do to give back the same to you, so he would give you everything he had.

“Your sure this will work?” you asked as Bruce lead you out of the forest to the finished glass ark.  It was a huge dome made of triangular glass panes joined together and sitting on a hovering platform.  It contained trees and shrubbery a pond and various fungus and native herbs.  It created its own weather system and the soil was more than six feet deep.  You looked at it skeptically.  “Are you sure about this, Bruce?”

“We can try,” he said.  “We don’t have to go far.  You’re only separated from a huge section of wilderness by a fairly small town.  If we take this up the Hudson, then cross the freeway, we can get you there, and if you live here in this small patch of land, then there has to be more of your people there.  And if not, we’ll keep going north until we find them.”

You shifted uneasily.  “What if being in there is the same as being on the road?”

“We’ll go slow - if you feel faint we’ll come back,” he said. “I promise, you mean too much to me to hurt you.”

“What if there aren’t any of my kind left?” you asked.

He moved to you, wrapping his arms around you.  He wasn’t worried about that.  He was sure if you could survive on your own in this small patch of the reserve there would be others out there in those acres of wilderness.  What he was worried about was that if you had them, you wouldn’t want him anymore and that even if you did, neither of you would be able to work out a way to make it work.  “If we search the whole world and find no one, at least then you’ll know, and we’ll have done it together,” he said.

You looked at him with your eyes glistening and brought your lips to his.  He kissed you deeply and tenderly, hoping he could get across that he was here for you.  That his heart was yours and no matter what happened it would, and that he was trusting you with it because he’d known so much hurt and he hoped you could keep it safe.

Tony came out from the other side of the ark.  “Are we ready to try this?”

Bruce pulled back and looked at you.  “Ready to try, honey?”

You took a steadying breath and nodded.  “Okay.”

Tony opened the glass door to the dome and you used the rope ladder to climb up into it.  Bruce stood back to watch you move around in the space.  Exploring the trees and shrubs.  “How is it, honey?  You feel okay?”

“I feel good, Bruce,” you called back.  “It’s alive in here.”

Bruce let out a sigh of relief and Tony handed him a comms unit.  “Ready?”

“Be ready to turn back,” Bruce said.

“I know what I’m doing, honey bear,” Tony said.  “You worry about your girl.  I’ll worry about the rig.”

Bruce climbed up with you and the two of you took a seat under the larger of the trees as Tony fired up the Ark.

“That won’t break, will it?” you asked, pointing up at the glass dome above you.

“No,” he said.  “We’ve tested it out.  It’s working perfectly.”

You let out a breath and the arc slowly maneuvered down onto the river.  “You’re okay?” Bruce asked.

“Scared,” you said, as you gripped his hand.  “But not sick.”

“It’s not far, but we have to go slow.  It’s going to be three or four hours,” Bruce explained.

When you were about half an hour out, you began to relax and you even dozed off with your head on Bruce’s lap.  You startled awake when the ark started to rise vertically to take it over the top of the roads and treetops to get to the part of the wilderness they were aiming for.  You moved to the edge of the dome to peer over the side.  “Are you sure we’re safe?”

“Yes, honey,” he said.  “And if something did go wrong, the Hulk would get you out of here and somewhere safe.  I promise.  He cares about you just as much as I do.”

You approached him and cradled his jaw, looking down into his eyes.  “I thought humans were all destructive and look at this.  Look at what you have done.  I love you, Bruce Banner.”

He smiled.  Since the accident he was always called the most destructive force out there, to hear this from you meant the world to him.  “I love you too,” he said.  “I just want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” you said and kissed him.

It was a few more hours before Tony was bringing the ark down in a clearing by a lake.  You climbed out of the back and it was like you began to glow.  You looked around and the sky started to darken and the stars came out.  “I can feel them,” you said softly.

Tony jumped out of the cockpit of the ark and looked around.  “What the hell is happening?”

“This is what she does,” Bruce said.  “It’s peaceful right?”

Tony shivered.  “Don’t like it.”

Bruce couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re hopeless, you know?”

People began to appear at the treeline.  Bruce counted five.  Three men, a woman, and a small boy.  No two looked related and yet they all shared the same magical quality you did.  Each on ethereally beautiful.

They appeared to be afraid to approach and Bruce assumed it was due to the presence of not only the ark but also the presence of Tony and Bruce.  You approached them and the other woman stepped out to meet you.  Bruce watched as you spoke and then embraced.  Tony nudged him.  “Looks like it’s going well.”

“Mm-hmm…” Bruce hummed.  His stomach felt in knots.  He wanted this to go well for you but he also had this intense fear that if you went with them, he’d never see you again.

“I’m gonna call Clint for a pick-up,” Tony said, patting Bruce on the shoulder.  “We can’t leave the ark here for good, but we might as well leave it until she knows for sure she’s staying.”

Bruce nodded.  It made sense.  Plus it would give him a place to meet you if you decided to stay.

When Tony disappeared into the ark you pulled away from the woman and came running over to him.  “I know her, Bruce,” you said, tears streaming down your cheek.  “Bruce… you have no idea what you’ve given me.”

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.  He held you and rubbed your back.  “I was more than happy to, sweetheart,” he said.

You pulled back and looked at him.  “They want me to go with them.  But how will I find you again?”

“I can come back here tomorrow.  We’ll leave the ark and I’ll meet you here tomorrow.  Okay?  You go.  Don’t worry.  I’ll be here,” Bruce said.

You put your hand over his heart.  “I’ll feel you when you’re here.  Just call for me.”

He smiled and leaned in, his lips brushing over yours.  This felt weirdly final to him.  He hoped it was just his trauma that was making him feel like this was the last time he would see you.  That it was the fact he had been pushed away by so many people over his whole life.  He loved you - that was a fact - and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

// NEXT

[maplecornia]

chapter 10

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.24K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: I think the banner is super cute for this one, fitting to the super FLUFFY moments in this chapter ehehehe

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

He takes you to a studio.

Though the hallway is simple, another slather of pure white paint, stone, and plaster, the floor a gorgeous light charcoal tile. The door to the studio is beautiful hardwood, a large window of tinted glass embedded within so that you can see a bit inside.

You stare at it with awestruck eyes.

Namjoon doesn't notice your expression at first, turning the knob to the door, and entering.

As he does, you don't move. You don't know if you can.

The studio isn't much, it's very simple when you think about it.

It's spacious, with dark walls and an almost metallic look to it. There are two comfortable chairs located at the soundboard which has a black undertone to them. The table is dark hardwood, even the floor is plated with dark mosaic tile. The recording area on the other side of the massive one-way glass in front of the soundboard has the same black theme, the walls soundproofed with patches of black material.

Though it may seem simple to some, to you, it could not be more beautiful.

This room holds every dream you ever had, everything you had once wanted to be. On the other side of that glass, you would have sung and made the very same music that helped you feel loved and wanted.

As you stand there, awestruck, RM notices that you're not beside him. He pauses, turning around to you, his computer powering on. He looks at you, a bit confused.

“Yen?” at his voice, you break out of your trance and snap your eyes to him. He chuckles a bit before setting down his coffee. “Are you going to come in? It's rude to stand in open doorways.”

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you nod, hurrying in and closing the door shut behind you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was just…” you trail off, searching for the words to explain, but coming up empty, you fall silent.

Namjoon gives you a look as you stop in the middle of the room, getting that dreamy, glazed-over look in your eyes once more. You seem as though you're afraid to touch anything. Maybe it will ruin the dream, somehow wake you up, when you don't want to be bothered.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, peering deeper into your eyes and tilting his head in a questioning gesture. Once more, the expression on your face disappears and you chuckle nervously.

“Yes, it's just, this doesn't quite feel real.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's always been my dream to come to a place like this.” You murmur, taking a steadying breath as you tentatively run your fingers over the top of the desk. The cool glossed-over granite sends a small shiver down your spine before you pull your hand back to your heart.

Namjoon’s eyes scan your face, searching it, as though it is the most interesting thing in the room right now. If you were to notice, the sight of his intense gaze would cause your heart to beat faster.

“What? A studio?” he inquires. You turn to him and nod, your mouth breaking into a wide grin, as you can’t ignore the pounding of adrenaline in your veins at your excitement.

“Yes. I've dreamed of being in one ever since I was a little girl.” Wistfully, your eyes turn to the one-way glass separating the soundproof from the recording studio.

“I would have sung right there, in front of that microphone. My producers and composers would be behind this glass, giving me pointers and helping me to make the best version of my song possible.” You explain, pointing to the lone microphone in the middle of the room. “But, I never got to live it.”

“What do you mean?” he asks intently, his eyes snapping back to you. You smile sadly and turn away from the glass, raising your tea to your lips. “Why couldn't you pursue your dream?”

“I didn't want to debut as a solo artist.” You answer him, chucking a bit bitterly afterward.

“It's a stupid reason, I know, but in America, there aren't necessarily companies constantly holding new auditions for boy and girl groups, like in Seoul. Normally it was you, on your own. If you wanted to debut as a group, you had to have people you knew willing to do that with you. I didn't have people who would want to do that with me. They all had their dreams, and I had mine. I saw those solo artists perform, and all I could see was how lonely they were up there. I wouldn't be able to do that. I don't think I'd be able to survive, to feel as though I were the only one in the world. As though everything I did or didn't do would define who I was. I wouldn't be strong enough to deal with that on my own.”

He looks at you, silent but understanding. As you raise your eyes to him, almost hesitant, you don't expect to see the sweet, kind smile on his face.

“It's not stupid.” He says, turning to the computer and opening up a few files. “Besides, now you're living it...sort of. How does it feel?”

He pulls back one of the chairs and beckons for you to sit down. You take it, easing yourself into the chair and thankfully finding that nothing disappears.

“Unreal.” You whisper, almost giddy at the sight of the soundboard in front of you. If you were in the recording area, things would get out of hand. He chuckles at your answer and sits down as well, pulling up a demo that he has no doubt been working on.

“You're lucky Yoongi isn't here, he would fuss at you for taking his seat.” He teases, but your eyes go wide and you almost stand up. RM grabs you by the wrist almost as soon as you do and sits you back down in your seat.

“Don't worry, I’m just joking.” You smile, laughing nervously, but continue to sit on the edge of the chair.

“Is he here?” you ask, trying to make sure you aren't overstepping any boundaries. Namjoon shakes his head in response, adjusting things on the soundboard.

“He was supposed to be but got called away for another project. He’s still a producer after all, and was only helping me a bit with this demo.” He explains. Relaxing, you sit back, nodding.

He proceeds to play with the soundboard as though it were some secret language only he knew, and you watch him, trying to study how it works. He pushes up a button there, twists a knob here, all the while clicking continuously on his computer.

“Is this what you got from your studio?” you inquire, and he turns toward you. As you glance up at him, your eyes meet before he turns back to the computer, and nods.

“Yep. I've been working on this for quite some time now, but can't seem to get the sound right. It's strange because I already have the lyrics for it, but one part just doesn't seem to flow.” You watch as his cursor highlights one part of his track and he pulls a pair of headphones off from the console. Drawing away from his computer, he turns to you. He offers them to you in a questioning gesture.

“Do you want to hear?” he asks and you nod, reaching for them.

Instead, he places them securely on your head, and your hands go up quickly to readjust it to your liking. As they do, your hands touch his as they pull away, for a small moment. It sends a shock through your body, and you can hardly look him in the eye as your face grows hot.

He, however, can't take his eyes off you. As you glance up at him with that innocent, confused gaze, he has to quickly turn away. His hand raises to his mouth, as though that would hide it from your curious orbs.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly, hoping that would cover up his slight embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Complying, he clicks the play button and after a small sound of silence, the music begins, soft and steady. It has a peaceful beat to it, one that calms you and makes you smile. Closing your eyes, you tap your hands over the headphones, almost as if to press the music deeper into your mind. As it progresses, the music grows faster and you can hear a woman's voice in the background vocalizing.

Opening your eyes, remembering that this should be where RM is having trouble, you can hear the music begin to transition, as though a record were stopping at the end of its song.

You can see where RM is having trouble.

The music that comes next is too fast, too different from the beginning of the track, it holds no consistency. Once it fades out, back to the calm and quiet track, you pull off the headphones, pondering what to tell him.

You know that he wants your opinion, but you don't want to be disrespectful.

“Well? Any suggestions?” he asks, holding your gaze with persistent eyes.

“May I?” you request, gesturing to the computer, and he nods, switching places with you. You have enough experience with software such as this that you know what you're doing.

“You see this area right here? I feel as though that's where the sound starts to sound a bit off. It's not necessarily that the beat is bad, it's perfect. However, in this area, it doesn't flow like the rest of the song.” As you play the area you're talking about, you hardly notice how close Namjoon moves to you, peering at the screen.

Your bodies are mere inches apart, his heat making your back warm. It's comforting, as though there is someone behind you whom you can trust.

“You see?” you say once it stops playing, turning and finding your face inches away from him. As he peers at the screen with narrowed, focused eyes he doesn’t notice you staring.

He's so close that you can see the deep brown of his eyes, the product in his soft hair, and the smoothness of his cheeks. The comforting warmth immediately changes into something else. Swallowing hard, you tear your gaze away. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you try to cool them down, and silently wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.

Honestly...how could Korea ever call this man ugly?

“What would you suggest we can do to change it?” he asks, glancing down at you just as you raise your eyes to the screen, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

“I think that maybe if you used the same piano accompaniment in the beginning after the transition, then that would satisfy the need for consistency while keeping the original sound of the track.” You suggest, looking at him for approval.

He doesn't answer at first, instead, he reaches across you, carrying out your task. Swallowing hard, you freeze, afraid to make the tiniest movement and accidentally touch him.

He doesn't notice, his turn to be entranced in his work, and you're thankful for it. You try to inconspicuously hide your face from him, missing your baggy clothes. Normally the giant sleeves would be enough to mask your blush, but now you only have the comfort of your small hands against your cheeks. Once he's done, he pulls back, gesturing for you to play it.

“Let's see if this works.” He murmurs, almost hopeful. You nod, pressing the mouse and intentionally avoiding eye contact with him until your heart has calmed down. The beginning of the song starts once again, helping to calm your nerves and you feel at ease once more.

You weren't aware there would be so little personal space when you first walked into the BigHit building.

When it comes to the particular area in the song, you're surprised to find that your idea worked. The small part no longer sounds out of place and it flows with the rest of the song. It still needs some tuning, but you solved his problem.

“Woah…” Kim Namjoon mutters, and you turn to him, finding surprise and a sort of pride in his expression.

“That’s incredible.” His eyes turn from the screen to rest on you laughing softly.

“Did you know that you're incredible? It's such a simple fix, such a simple error. Something we couldn’t pick up, and you…” he runs his hand over his face, staring at the computer screen with an unbelievable expression before turning his eyes to you once more. “I guess what they say about fresh ears is true.”

You blush at the pride, trying to ignore it, act like you did nothing at all, which you didn't. With him looking at you that way, however, it's hard not to feel vital, somehow important to this song.

“So!” you say, sitting straight in your chair and turning to him. “What do we do next?”

“What to do next….” he ponders on the thought before his eyes widen as though remembering something.

He curses under his breath, checking his watch. Immediately, he pulls back from the soundboard, and heads to the door, beckoning for you to follow him. You hurry to your feet, taking his coffee and your tea before scuttling after him.

“Where are we going?” you call out, having to jog to reach his side. He doesn't answer you, just mutters incomprehensible things under his breath.

You keep quiet behind him, understanding that he's stressed out. Sometimes it's just better to keep silent to show that you understand. You do that for him now, just follow him as he leads you back to Mon Studio, retrieving a few things and pocketing them in a backpack.

You wait for him near the entrance by your satchel, where you left it safe before.

As he finishes and begins to search for something, his phone rings and he curses once more. He rolls his eyes in annoyance as he pulls it out from his pocket.

“Yes?” he snaps.

As he presumes to continue packing, he beckons you for help. You comply, setting down the drinks before packing away the papers, pens, and flash drives into his pack.

“Han, I know I’m late, okay? I was in the middle of something.” Turning from you, he snags a mask off from a small hook on his wall. He shoves that into his jacket, before rummaging through his desk drawers, searching for something.

Han?

“Yes, I understand that it's an important meeting, I am trying my best to get there.” As you finish packing, he turns to you, whispering glasses, and you nod, beginning to search for them as well. He continues talking incomprehensibly on the phone, just as you spy the glasses. You snatch them, presenting them miraculously to him. He smiles at your ecstatic expression, taking them and placing them on his hat securely.

“Okay. Yes, I understand. Alright, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he ends the call, sighing as he places his phone back in his pocket and turns to you.

“I'm sorry about all that, I forgot I had to go to a meeting out of Yongsan-dong today and lost track of time.” He explains. You nod, understanding as he begins to position his mask on his face. “I was hoping to teach you the ropes a bit more, but I guess that will have to wait till tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know what time to get here?”

“Yes. I'm supposed to get here around 7:30 am so that I’m ready.”

“Ready with what?” you smirk at his little question game before answering.

“Your schedule and coffee. You'll text me if you want me to get coffee for the other members. You'll also text me if I’m supposed to meet you in another place besides your studio. For now, I’ll be able to find any place in the building on the map you gave me.” He nods mutely as you recite your duties like a soldier. Once you're finished, he zips up his backpack and hikes it on his shoulder.

“Good. you'll be able to get the schedule from the receptionist at the front desk every morning. You'll also be accompanying me to every meeting, practice, or recording I have unless otherwise specified.” You nod in agreement, watching as he turns around in a circle seeming to search for something.

“Where did I…” reading his mind, you turn to the place where you put the drinks and hand him his coffee.

“Here you go.” You say, and he smiles, laughing at himself for his absentmindedness. He takes it from you, your hands making slight contact, but this time it isn't shocking. It's familiar, almost brotherly, makes you feel secure and comforted.

“Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Yes, actually if you could clean up my studio and the one we were working in, that would be a great help. You remember where it is right?” you nod, and he nods in return, turning to the door.

“After that, you'll be able to go home, I hope tomorrow I’ll be able to teach you more.” As he opens the door and steps outside, you bow to him, respectfully.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. Once more, I apologize for being so late.” After a moment, you raise your head and find him staring at you with an unreadable expression. His soft brown eyes remind you of a wistful puppy. You tilt your head in confusion at the look, wondering what he could be thinking in that vast brain of his.

“Mr. Kim?”

“You don't need to do that.” He murmurs, as though he's talking half to himself.

“What?” you inquire, trying to make sure you heard him right. He turns fully to you, repeating himself once more, this time a bit louder for you to hear.

“You don't have to be so formal. I know everyone else does it, but you don't have to.”

You blink at him blankly.

“Jaejin never used them either. I guess it's easier to drop the formalities and work with someone who feels as though they’re a friend.” He explains, flashing a small smile your way. “I hope that won't be too hard.”

“Oh! Oh no! Not at all!” you say quickly, shaking your head vigorously.

“It makes it a bit easier on me, actually. Using honorifics can be a bit confusing.” You chuckle a bit and his smile grows wider, softening at the tips.

“Goodbye, Yen.” He says, turning away once more, before pausing and peeking over his shoulder at you as though he forgot something. “By the way, Jaejin was right."

"About what?" you ask, a bit confused, but all he does is smile.

"I'm glad he chose you as his replacement.”

The sweet phrase leaves you standing there frozen, unable to mutter a goodbye.

He chuckles to himself at the expression, placing his sunglasses on his nose before walking out of the room and down the hallway.

It takes you a moment, but once he’s gone, you shake out of your trance, your heart pounding deep in your chest.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” You whisper to yourself, holding your hand to your heart as you drop the honorific.

Crossing that barrier that turns you from a co-worker into his friend.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so...ship or skip?

chapter 11 here

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[sadoeuphemist]

They had fitted together a wheeled cart for the old knight, large enough to carry him comfortably, but not so large that he would be rattled about when the wheels jostled over the stones. They had harnessed the cart to the knight’s horse, and though normally no knightly steed would deign to drag a load behind it like a mere beast of burden, Sir Percival’s horse was as grayed as he was, and so trotted along placidly as Sir Percival sat propped up in the back, his armor warmed by the sun.

“My final, and most glorious quest,” he proclaimed, staring ahead with clouded eyes. He could make out light and darkness, the shape of a tree, but not the leaves or branches on it. He was looking at the horizon, and at the blue expanse of sky. “You are most fortunate, my lad, to be witness to this, the final day of a long and illustrious life.”

"Yes, Sir,” his squire said. The squire was a lad of about fourteen, walking ahead and leading the horse by the bridle. He had been picked by lot to accompany Sir Percival to his death, and, much like the horse, had accepted his burden rather meekly. He had polished Sir Percival’s armor the night before, fitted it piece by piece onto the frail old body. Now he walked steadily, his shoulders slumped as if there was a harness weighting them down. He had been silent for much of the journey, but at Sir Percival’s words took the opportunity to speak: “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, I’ve heard of your many deeds, the, uh, the d-dragons slain, the - the knights defeated, and so on, and this quest, Sir, I don’t know very much about it, and, um...”

“Yes, yes, the quest!” said Sir Percival, trying to sit upright in the cart and only succeeding in rocking it slightly. His horse snorted and shifted its weight. “It’s the only quest, really. Every warrior slain, every army defeated, every drop of blood spilled - all hollow striving in service of the single quest above all else.” He waved his hand, his armor creaking, and beckoned the boy closer. The squire dropped back to listen. “The Grail, m’lad! The Holy Grail! The chalice that caught the blood of our savior Jesus Christ! The only thing worth questing for in all the world!”

Sir Percival settled back in the cart, his breathing heavy, his white sideburns quivering. The squire hesitated, hovering over him, and let out a sigh of relief as Sir Percival seemed to relax again. The squire trotted forward, once again taking the horse’s bridle in his hand.

“I had my chance at it, you know,” Sir Percival said, after some time. “Back when I was young.”

“Sir?” the squire said.

“It was ... My goodness, how long ago was it by now?” Sir Percival shook his head. “At my age, one tends to lose track of time. Not just the now, you see, but all the things before it, all jumbled up together.” Even behind the cataracts his eyes were distant now, dreamy. “I had my chance at it, in any case, made it all the way into the Keeper’s castle. The Keeper of the Grail, you know. All full of wondrous things. This beautiful young maiden, fair and rosy-cheeked. All these beautiful young people. A lance, a lance that never stopped bleeding. A wound that never heals. A lance in your hand that cries for blood, the wound always as fresh as the day your lance first plunged into flesh, the red red reminder of every quest and every kill -”

His lips tremored wordlessly for a moment, and then Sir Percival shook his head. “I had to ask the Question, you see. And I had been taught back then to not ask questions. And so I missed my chance.”

“Sir?” the squire said hesitantly. “The - the question?”

“The Question!” said Sir Percival, his spirits suddenly restored. “Yes, devilishly clever, that! Other, lesser quests would have you answer a riddle to succeed. But! If you’re given the riddle, the answer only follows from that, doesn’t it? It’s a simple matter of eliminating all the answers that don’t fit, and then you’re left with the only one that does. Childishly simple!

“But! If you’re given nothing, and expected to ask the Question first, what then? Oh-ho!” said Sir Percival, smiling broadly and revealing the few remaining teeth among his gums. “Now that’s a challenge few knights can ever conquer!”

“And ... what is the Question, Sir?”

“Well, it’s ... Obviously it’s, ah...” Sir Percival furrowed up his face, sinking back so that his head lay against the cart, squinting at the sun. “Give me a moment, m’lad, I’m not as young as I used to be. Just need a moment to think, that’s all.” Sir Percival yawned loudly, his eyelids fluttering. “Just go on, m’lad,” he mumbled, sinking into sleep. “Keep moving. Just a moment’s rest. I’m sure I’ll think of it. In time...”

...

“Sir?” came the squire’s voice, high and anxious. “Sir! I do believe we’re here!”

Sir Percival snapped awake, the blackness receding back so quickly that for a moment he was lost, and then could not remember what he had been dreaming. They had crossed the border of the kingdom quite a while back, and now a foreboding castle towered over them, its walls of black and battered stone. The ground around it had been torn up in times past by charging hooves and cannon fire, pockmarked with splintered lances and arrowheads and shards of rusting metal, and a ragged banner flew from atop the castle’s highest tower. But Sir Percival saw none of that.

In his ears rang only the sound of rushing water - a river, the sound of it babbling gaily against the stones, the coolness in the air, and Sir Percival squinted furiously, seeing the sparkling curve of the river, and what might have been the shape of a man crouched against it.

“Ahoy!” he yelled out gleefully. “Ahoy over there!”

It was indeed a man, weary-looking, gray-haired, though not nearly as decrepit as Sir Percival, sitting by the riverside with a fishing rod in hand, its thin line swaying with the current. “Ahoy yourself!” he yelled back, irritated. “We’re not at sea, you old coot!” Sir Percival continued looking on with a delighted grin.

The fisherman sighed. He was wearing royal robes, though worn and patched, and with a gesture that suggested he was used to being obeyed he motioned to the squire. “Well, get the old dunderhead over here, then! We might as well get this over with!”

The squire glanced at Sir Percival for confirmation, and then led the old horse forward gingerly, trying to navigate it so that Sir Percival would be next to the old fisherman without the horse splashing into the river, and then finally gave up and unharnessed the cart. The fisherman said nothing through all of this, staring moodily into the river, where not a single fish was troubling his line. Sir Percival was simply grinning, nodding on, gesturing impatiently, as the squire tried to brace him up from underneath his armpit, easing him out of the cart. “Um,” the squire said, glancing at the fisherman. “Um, if I could get a little help...?”

“Sat down here this morning,” the fisherman grumbled, rubbing at his thigh, and the squire could see that it was withered beneath the robes. “Nothing’s getting me up until it’s time to go back in. You’re on your own.”

It took a good deal of clanking and a great deal of effort on both their parts, but finally the squire settled Sir Percival beside the fisherman on the bank.

“Ah, there we go,” Sir Percival sighed, clapping his gauntleted hands down on his tassets. He was breathing heavily. “Been a while, hasn’t it, you old bastard?” he said jovially, elbowing the fisherman. “I tell you, Pelleham, bet you thought you were done with me back then, all those - those wonders in your castle dazzling me with their sorcerous charms -”

“That was my father,” the fisherman said impatiently. “And he’s up there in the castle.” He glanced at the highest tower, its face of scarred stone. “Doesn’t even get out of bed these days. Just lies there, day in, day out, wasting away. I’m Pelles, you remember? Pelles. Was barely even a man, first time you came.”

“Oh.” Sir Percival’s face folded up in wrinkles, his eyes small, his mouth open in a small black semicircle of bewilderment as he leaned in uncomfortably close, trying to make out Pelles’ profile. “Are you - are you sure you’re not - ? You sound just like him, as if - as if it hadn’t been a day - No, no, of course you’re not...” Sir Percival shook his head, slumping back on the riverbank, looking out dazedly at the currents rushing on. “It’s been years, of course. Decades. He was old when I first came here.” He looked hopefully at Pelles. “I don’t suppose I could see him...?”

“Just told you,” the fisherman snapped. “He’s gravely ill. Definitely not taking any visitors.”

“Ah. Of course.” Sir Percival looked down at his lap, folding his hands together.

“And you,” said Pelles. “What are you doing still gallivanting around at your age?” He ran a scornful eye across Sir Percival, the polished armor hanging on his withered frame. “Let me guess, yet another quest. A final quest. For you to perish in pursuit of some noble goal.”

“Yes, yes, exactly,” said Sir Percival, but all the energy had gone out of him. He was slouching in his rigid armor, the edge of his gorget cutting into his chin, though he seemed to barely notice. “We were ...” He smiled toothlessly, his voice gentle. “It sounded so glorious, really, when I proposed it to the King. The one quest I’d never fulfilled. It’s the only thing, isn’t it? The Grail? The only thing that matters in the world...”

“You knights and your damned quests,” the fisherman muttered. He bobbed the pole in his hand, letting the line waver. “What’s it accomplish in the end, hm?” He painfully extended his legs from beneath his robes, rubbed at his bare feet and let them soak in the water. “I spend my days fishing now.” He tugged at his line disgruntledly. “It’s about as productive.”

“No, no,” said Sir Percival dreamily. “You weren’t there for the old days, or perhaps you were still too young, then. Riding across the countryside, around every corner another quest awaiting us. An evil knight, a young damsel in distress...”

The man snorted. “You save a damsel, and then she’s safe to be kidnapped away again. You kill a man, and then you got to kill all his compatriots. When’s it end, eh, Percival? When’s it fucking end?” 

“Well. of course it’s the...” Sir Percival shook his head. “Of course that’s the point of striving, it’s the nobility of the struggle...”

“You conquer a castle, and always there’s a new one just beyond your borders,” the fisherman insisted, jabbing a bony finger. “You do what one man can, and your king sits up in his castle playing his games, and the world bangs on all around you. And in the end it’s just the Grail, the Grail, the Grail, the one thing you’ve never been able to attain.”

“I...” Sir Percival ran a gauntleted hand across his face, shuddering involuntarily from the touch of metal. “I’ve done everything I could, certainly, but ... It’s the youth, of course!” he said, turning stiffly to his squire, his face suddenly beatific. “We do what we can. We make the world as good as we can. And then it’s our - it’s the children, of course, who grow up and keep the quest alive...”

Pelles barely glanced up at the boy, snorting. “I’m my father’s son. As are you. And the old wars, and the new ones, they’re all the same butchery. We’ve both been around far longer than we should. Seen the change of ages. And it’s gotten worse, if anything. All the old atrocities, without even the idealism to temper ‘em.

“Boy!” he said, and snapped his fingers at the squire. “Look around you. Behold my kingdom, in all its tattered glory. What do you think of it?”

The squire stood awkwardly, knees locked, flushed with the sudden attention. “Oh! Uh, I don’t -” He cast his eyes around the scarred landscape littered with the remnants of battle, the shrapnel gouged into the soil. Riddles are simple, Sir Percival had said, eliminate all answers that don’t fit, but in his anxious state no single answer was winnowed from the chaff. “I - I don’t really see anything remarkable about it, Sir...?”

“Y’see!” said Pelles, a nasty grin on his face. “It’s the world we’ve made for ‘em. He’s too young to know any different.”

“No, no, no, no,” Sir Percival said, struggling to shift himself in his armor. “Listen to me, m’lad. If I’ve taught you anything let me teach you this. Despite all the world, despite every brutality in it, in the end we can still find salvation! The Grail -!”

“The Grail!” Pelles shrieked. “Men warring for the Grail, slaughtering one another for the Grail, throwing their lives away in an endless fruitless struggle just for the hopes of finally getting heir hands on the damned Grail -!”

“No!” Sir Percival boomed, and pushed himself upward, the metal joints of his armor locking into place, and for a moment he was standing gloriously on his own two feet again, a shining monument to knighthood as they both stared at him in wonder. “It’s the only quest worth doing,” he proclaimed, his words coming out in a rush, “I swear to you this. We must believe in a redemption through blood. In the promise of salvation -” and then his knees were giving way, the ground rushing up like a great black mountain, and he toppled forward in a violent clash of steel.

“Sir Percival!” the squire screamed, and rushed to him, struggling to turn him over on his back. “Help! Help me!’ he yelled to Pelles.

“I told you!” Pelles yelled back. “I’ve sat down and there’s no getting me up again without a retinue of attendants!” He was dragging himself up the bank regardless, his fishing pole abandoned, as the squire managed to roll Sir Percival over, hovering anxiously his ashen face.

“Heavy,” Sir Percival said, struggling to lift an arm. It might as well have been an anvil. “It’s never - it’s never weighed a thing before, the armor, never noticed I was wearing it -”

“You fool,” hissed Pelles, crawling laboriously to lean over him. “You stupid, stubborn old fool.”

“Oh,” said Sir Percival, a slow smile drifting across his face. “Pelleham. My dear Pelleham. There you are.” His head drifted languidly in Pelles’ direction. “There’s something I was going to ask you, but I can’t at the moment remember what it is.”

“It’ll be all right, Sir,” his squire said urgently, clutching his gauntleted hand. “You just - There’s the castle, and you can -”

“Lad,” said Sir Percival, turning his head back to face the sky. “Lad. Lad. What’s your - ? Your name, it’s something like that, Lad, it’s -”

“Galahad, Sir,” he said, stifling back a sob.

“Of course. Yes. Galahad.” He was seeing brightness. He was seeing light. “My good and faithful squire. Your first quest. And how well you have performed. It’s there, the Grail, right within your reach...”

Sir Percival’s eyes were wide and sightless, and his mouth hung open soundlessly. Galahad fumbled with the armor, unbuckling the straps that he had practiced, struggling to reach the heart beneath the metal chestplate. He shoved the steel aside, pressing an ear to Sir Percival’s hairy and sunken chest. After a few moments he sunk back, his face blank. “He’s dead.”

Pelles was sprawled out on the ground, grimacing in pain, and pushed himself up to watch his fishing rod floating away in the river. Sir Percival’s old nag trotted over, looking down at the body of its master, and gazed off distracted again at some shrubbery in the distance.

“Doddering old idiot,” Pelles muttered. The black castle cast a shadow into the sky, a monolith looking down on them. “At least you’ve got the cart if you want to drag him all the way back. We could bury him here, if you like,” he added, after a moment’s contemplation. “He’s got enough of a history with this place. I don’t think he’d be unhappy with that.”

He looked up, waiting for the squire’s response, and saw that Galahad was busy unbuckling Sir Percival’s belt, hoisting up the scabbard that hung on it. Around the boy’s waist the sword dragged against the ground, so he looped it across his chest instead, the belt going over one shoulder.

“What’re you going to do with that?” Pelles said.

Galahad awkwardly drew the sword from its scabbard, balancing the naked blade with both hands as if he had never held a sword before, pointing its tip towards Pelles, and then let it lower to the ground. “I want an answer,” Galahad said.

Pelles sighed, massaging his aching thigh, his leg stretched out upon the damp soil. “Go on, then.”

“The Grail,” said Galahad, his voice firm. “What’s the damn thing even good for?”

“Ah!” said King Pelles, and despite himself a laughter surged up from his chest, bubbling out inexplicably. Far downstream, his pole was a tiny splintered twig among the rocks, and the fish leapt sparkling through the river, fearless and free. “There you go! Now that’s the Question, isn’t it!”

[idealnreal]

Maruki Palace over-analysis (pt.1)

Thank you for @appleyjuiceboy​ for helping me out with this and entertaining my brainrot. and to @goalexstark​ for requesting this :D Now buckle in, put on gentle madman, and a whole lot of insanity under the cut

So the best place to start is outside the palace. Specifically, the external architecture of the palace. It’s clearly very contemporary even futuristic in its design, while holding an organic form. It’s design reminds me of rotating tower concepts with the way the first half of the tower curves and twists. And the palace itself does seem to rotate and shift, especially the components in the top half -- accentuating the organic and dynamic futuristic design. However, in comparison with most contemporary and organic architectural designs, the external architecture isn’t minimalist. There are various components, that make the design seem chaotic and even Extra. Of course this is a palace, and we should expect that.

The middle section of the palace is a twisting glass ‘stairway’, surrounding a golden almost ‘woven’ like structure. There is an elevator shaft running through the middle of it. This elevator leads to the garden of eden section of the palace. While the peak is a hologram of a globe, surrounding an amorphous golden form -- that seems to be the source of the light. Strangely enough we don’t see the tree of eden from outside. That would’ve been neat. But alas. The we come to the rotating rings, bound by these golden ‘wires’, and have these camera lenses attached to them.

So, the architectural style of the lab is futuristic, organic and dynamic -- and completely whack. This reflects how he thinks that his new reality is also effectively a new way, a new future -- breaking past the confines and rules of even the most contemporary of architectural design, and breaking past the confines and rules of life and reality.

All throughout the exterior of the palace there are these limelights and cameras, rotating about, focusing it’s lenses. This alludes to how he gives each patient his full attention, to be the centre of attention, to be in-focus. Alternatively, it could also suggest an over protective, surveying/ supervising mental state -- ever watchful for anyone in pain.

The entrance’s design, in comparison with the rest of the exterior, seems very straightforward. If you take away the glass atrium, the grey structure in the middle would actually be very imposing. The gold ‘wires’ arcs also surround this area, giving it an organic and dynamic design. Note that these aren’t doors, but an elevator. From the get go, Maruki is taking patients up, above ground.

Stepping out of the elevator, from the dark and up a flight of steps, into the light, we are greeted by a flight of doves-- accentuating the idea that the entrance hall is an open-aired space despite being indoors. This becomes a theme across the palace, going back and forth from high-ceiling and open-aired sections, to very closed and claustrophobic corridors. There are also those golden ‘wire’ arches decorating the ceiling of this entrance hall. In contemporary architecture, big atriums and open-aired spaces are meant to promote airflow and natural light, to give visitors a sense of ease and relaxation, while also being a respite from any harsh conditions outdoors. The sound of the doves taking flight add on to the peaceful and calm atmosphere.

Like all information boards, Maruki is showing people the benefits of his research, how it works, and most importantly, evidence that it does work -- that it is for the best. The amount of detail and the number of charts on these boards suggest that he is being transparent with his research -- and that it is scientifically proven. Of course, no one real (beyond the phantom thieves, shibusawa and the professor) has read this research. The people outside who’s cognitions he had changed, did not need to read this research -- they only needed to wish for happiness. Even so, these boards reflect his belief that if people know about his research, about how it works, they can be convinced into accepting his help. The cognitions who talk in the entrance hall also tell the PT to give it a try, and were understanding of any hesitance and were reassuring.

Also notice that the walls of the hall are lined with flower-beds, specifically wildflowers -- Calling back to Rumi’s love for the wild-flower field and Maruki’s youth with her. It also fits into the open-ness of this section that these are not potted deliberately arranged plants, and it would seem that these flowers just grew out in the patch of dirt and grass left for them.

Here, we come to the reception hall, where there are a few components to note. The first is probably the huge fan topping off the very high glass ceiling -- again, adding to the idea that this palace is all about natural light, air circulation and a breezy peacefulness. Then we have those golden wires/cable things (they actually remind me of computer cables), wrapped around these cameras and helping to prop them up and move them. THese cameras are also propped up by these black thin wires -- and the gold and the black -- hinting that there is more going on here. On the huge cameras themselves, now they seem more like surveillance cameras than the camera lenses outside. Adding credence to the idea that this is a big brother type situation, but one that is just reALLY keen on making sure everyone isn’t suffering and is happy.

The design of the reception itself is well organised, with lined benches and the calling numbers on full display. When i first played this section i thought that this was more like a hospital -- not a lab.

The next section is this green house looking area, with a tree and a garden in the middle and four TV screens. We don’t know if these screens are meant to play memories of anyone who comes by but that’s what we see-- Sumire walking in as her father is crying over Kasumi’s body. Importantly, after this section we see a cognition of Kasumi who sees and waves at Sumire, and then once we meet Maruki, he shows us another video from Sumire’s POV of the accident. Also the room we see the cognition of Kasumi and meet Maruki is a gymnastics arena.

This is important because we know that this is Maruki’s palace, and not Sumire’s. How is it that these POV memories are in this palace, and that Maruki would have a cognition of Kasumi? Of course one can argue that he created these memories and the cognition of Kasumi based on what he knows of Sumire/Kasumi -- and was doing this to manipulate her. But this definitely isn’t the case. He has never met Kasumi, and from what we can tell, he only had one session with Sumire, who didn’t really give any details of the accident itself to Maruki, or speak of her father to him. I doubt that Sumire as Kasumi would’ve spoken to Maruki about the accident after -- as she was more concerned about her gymnastic performance.

Perhaps this will get to personal headcanon territory, because the game doesn’t give us any answers on this. So Maruki is definitely an empath, and while that doesn’t give him the affinity to gain other people’s memories -- I believe that with Azathoth’s power and with this palace, it does. We know that he can see into people’s minds and know their pains and wishes -- which would very likely come in the form of memories -- whether it be persona users or mementos dwellers. Also, being an empath means that he can feel what another is feeling. Or rather if i can describe it -- letting someone walk through the door and change the furniture around. This is Maruki’s palace, and yet he is allowing Sumire to walk in and see her own memories from her point of view. Therefore, while i think that Maruki has access to some of these memories, they’re supplemented and brought into focus by the presence of Sumire. At least that’s what my hc is.

Speaking of the gymnastics arena, we arrive at our first colour switch of this palace. Dark purples and violets. It doesnt look like the walls or floors are purples/dark -- but instead some purple light, and that the big lights aren’t turned on on purpose. Like discussed before, this seems very much like Sumire’s section of the palace -- and Maruki allowing her to ‘move the furniture’

Something else to note thanks to juicedup14 from twitter for these translations of the banners, tickertape/crawler text, “We’ll watch over you always” “ The ideal reality you haven’t seen is waiting for you” “ May the world be a happy place where no one suffers”

And these posters, translated “ Let’s keep our hearts healthy”.

After a week we return to the palace and head to the Auditorium. This time, this is definitely Maruki’s section of the palace. Unlike the Arena, the Auditorium is a circular and bright hall, flanked all around with seats and podiums and screens for presentations. Yes, Maruki’s cognitions of people are fuckin creepy, but this is where they are the creepiest. They’re all sitting in rows, faceless and happy -- and have their hands together clapping. There is also a hologram of the globe topping off the ceiling -- like the hologram globe outside. This is where Maruki’s research will and has gained global recognition -- presented to thousands, and seen as the panacea to all ills and suffering of the world.

I went into more detail in my analysis of the shadows, but tldr; the cult-like vibe this palace, and especially this room, gives. However this ‘religion’ is founded on research, factual and scientific evidence. Which is why we have those presentation screens and all the information boards in this first third of the palace. And given how his research has been suppressed and ignored for years, it makes sense if those cognitions are his converted detractors, his followers, as well as his ‘patients’. Maruki doesn’t deny wanting his research to be recognised, and this is what this room is dedicated to. But like he says, and ultimately what the rest of this palace will show -- Maruki wants to heal the world at whatever the cost.

And with this i’ll probably close this off here. I reckon this will be one of four or five parts, kinda split to how the game splits this palace. This will be a long and wild ride ladies gents and enbees. Oof.

[we-stan-bruce-ban]

18 or 14 for the prompt thing 👀👀👀👀

14: “Is everything alright?” “It is now that you’re here with me.” *Which I tweaked a bit but same general idea

-O-

Thor hadn’t had a phone for terribly long. He still had a lot to figure out, but over time he’d learned one thing for sure: late night texts from Tony were almost never a good thing.

[Tony]: Hey

[Tony]: Bad news

What a surprise.

[Thor]: What is it this time?

[Tony]: Bruce

Immediately, he felt his heart stop. Thor’s typically slow thumbs were a blur as he tapped out a message.

[Thor]: What happened? Is he ok?

[Tony]: Not…really

[Thor]: What does that mean?

[Tony]: He’s stuck

[Thor]: Stuck?

[Tony]: Yep

[Thor]: In what?

[Tony]: He’s stuck mid transformation between the hulk and himself

[Tony]: Like, kinda big kinda green, very distressed, and I think he and the hulk are sharing a mind? Idk he keeps yelling at himself every now and then

Thor honestly didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know Bruce could get stuck like that, but it sounded awful. He took a moment to figure out what he wanted to ask next.

[Thor]: Does he seem hurt? Physically?

[Tony]: No clue, its kinda hard to tell

[Thor]: I’m coming over.

[Tony]: Figured you would. On floor 14

[Thor]: Please keep watch over him while I’m on my way.

[Tony]: No I think Im just gonna go make myself a margarita while my best friend is tearing his own existence apart in ways we didnt even know where possible beforehand

[Tony]: Of course Ill watch him

Thor didn’t waste time replying to Tony’s trademark sarcasm. Within mere minutes, he was over at Stark Tower, standing in the freezing rain and harsh gusts of wind that were probably brought on by his own stress. The door opened for him and he slipped inside, making a beeline for the elevator. Thor rode all the way up to the fourteenth floor, trying to catch his breath. Before he even got out of the elevator, he could tell that there was a strange sort of tension in the air.

When he stepped out, Bruce was nowhere to be found. Tony was rubbing his temple, as if he had a headache. Thor neared him, his eyes darting around the lab.

“Where is he?”

“Asleep. Finally.”

“Asleep?”

“He eventually passed out. Over-exhaustion, probably.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pausing. “Is he okay, though?”

“I…don’t know.”

Thor sighed and looked up towards the ceiling, then back at Tony. “So, he’s both? Him and the Hulk? At the same time?”

“Basically,” he nodded. “As far as I can tell, anyways.”

“Gods, that must be awful for…for both of them, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine how shitty he must feel.”

“Tell me where he is.” 

“We’ve got a hangout on this floor. It’s like…a makeshift bedroom, I guess. We spend so much time in here we figured we might as well have, like, a napping area,” he explained. “It’s a little room down the hall. Right side.”

Thor gave a sharp nod and hurried towards the door. 

“Hey, be careful, okay?” Tony called after him. 

“Of course I will be!”

Just like Tony said, the room was like the beginnings of a proper bedroom. There was a small bookshelf to one side, a few soft, yellow lights scattered about, and in the corner, a massive collection of pillows and duvets. There might have been a mattress beneath it, but it was hard to tell. Especially with the person curled up on top of it all. 

All along his arms were patches of what looked like rashes, only a muddy green color. His veins bulged along his arms and neck. He was definitely taller than he should have been, and more built and muscular, too. Bruce (Hulk?) himself seemed more like he was knocked out rather than peacefully asleep. His dark eyebrows were furrowed in what seemed like distress or frustration, and he would twitch every now and then. Thor knelt beside him and ran a finger along one of the several tears in his tightened shirt.

“Hello, dear,” he whispered. 

The being before him grumbled something incomprehensible. Then, his eyes snapped open. Thor took his hand back and watched intently. 

“Bruce?” he asked carefully. 

“Y-Yes,” he whispered, then smacked the side of his head. “No!”

Thor’s brow furrowed in concern. “Hey…”

“No! No Banner.” He shook his head frantically. A pained expression crossed his face. “Banner…sorry. I-I’m sorry…he’s…”

“Look at me,” he whispered, cupping his cheek. Thor pulled him into a gentle kiss, delicately playing with his hair. He pulled away and took a shaky breath. Thor frowned slightly and took his hands.

“Look at me, darling,” he whispered again. Bruce was hesitant to meet his eyes, but when they met each other, Thor gave him a warm smile. 

“I just wanted to say I love you. So, so much.”

He nodded slowly. “L…love you…too.”

“Mhm.”

“Who…am I?” he whispered suddenly. Thor paused.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “I mean…you aren’t exactly Hulk, but…but you aren’t fully Bruce either…”

“What am I?” The fear in his voice was more evident than before. 

“I don’t know, my love,” he said apologetically. “Do you feel more like one of them than the other?”

After a moment of thought, he replied. “Bruce.” 

“Are you sure?”

“…No. But…but I think I’m him…” 

“Okay,” he said softly. “Then we’ll get you back to being your old self.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Thor gave him a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Hurts…” Bruce sniffled. 

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered, looking over his trembling muscles. “Just…focus on me. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Gonna be okay…” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut. “Th–Thor…”

“Yes, dear?” 

“He’s…I don’t want…” Bruce swallowed. “Make it stop…”

“I’m not sure how,” he admitted. “Try to…um, maybe think about things that help you relax?”

“Hugs,” he said quickly. “Hug me…”

Thor nodded and wrapped his arms around him. It was odd, since he was used to hugging a much smaller Bruce. The way he was now, their heights were just about matched. Nevertheless, Thor just pretended like it was a normal night. Just cuddling his boyfriend in bed, and nothing more. 

“How’s this?” he murmured, rubbing his thumb against a rough patch of skin. 

“Yes,” was all Bruce replied. Thor pressed a kiss just below his ear and hummed softly. It was an old Asgardian lullaby he remembered his mother singing to him as a child. Thor wasn’t the best singer, by any means, but he hoped it was calming. 

Apparently it was, since he started to feel Bruce start to shrink in his arms. He whimpered as he curled in on himself, his body still shaking and jerking. 

“Hush, hush, you’re alright, I’m here…” Thor whispered. Bruce took deep breaths. Everything had stopped. Thor looked down at him, trying to determine if he was fully back yet. The shirt he wore, while still ripped, seemed to fit him once more, and his skin was back to its usual color. 

“Bruce?” he asked. 

“Yeah…” Bruce turned to look at Thor. Tears streaked his face, but the look in his eyes was relief. He rolled over and hugged Thor tight. 

“Fuck…fuck. Okay. I’m okay, I’m okay,” he rambled to himself. “It’s fine…” 

Thor himself let out a sigh, happy that Bruce had come back to himself. “There. See? I told you we’d get you back.”

“That was…fuck.”

“Is everything alright, now?”

“Since you’re here,” he nodded. 

“What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know and I hope I never experience it again.”

“Hopefully you never will.” Thor stroked his curls. 

“Yeah…shit. Yeah.” Bruce glanced up at him. “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me. I just want you safe and happy.”

Bruce smiled faintly. “I love you. So much, more than I could ever tell you. I’m…shit with words. You know that.”

“I do. But I love it.” Thor grinned. “It makes you yourself.” 

“See? I can’t do that,” he laughed softly. “Articulate words and all that…”

“Then just kiss me,” Thor mumbled.

Bruce did.

[meteor-writes]

Ooh! Look who’s early this week AND has a banner! It me! (I have the day off lol) 

As always, thanks @flashfictionfridayofficial for the awesome prompt ♥  This one was harder this week! I had one idea then realised I only had 200 words left so veered into this one which I like just as much so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Path to Pyrite - 999 words

When Rose left home, she trod through the forest on a moss-covered path. Even now she could smell the wet leaves, hear the squelching of mud under her boots as she ducked under the low branches of the old oak trees. Beyond her village, beyond the deep sea of green, beyond the mountains peaking into the lives of clouds, was the city of gold.

The buildings there were plated in sunlight, the streets paved with jewels finer than those worn by the mayor. Raindrops fell of the finest honey and those lucky enough to live there placed china teacups on their windowsills to collect the nectar of the Gods. All Rose had desired the day she left her home was to reach the city of gold where endless days of luxury awaited.

But that day in the forest, Rose had come up on a fork in the road. Two identical paths led away as if reflected in a looking glass. Rose had no reason to believe either were better, and thus she took the left. It led her out the forest, to a mountain pass shining silver in moonlight. There she’d met a merchant who let her hop onto the end of his wagon. He took her to a town where he sold his wares. It was not a wealthy one, but neither was it as poor as the village Rose had left. It was comfortable.

And so, with the little money she’d brought Rose settled into an inn for the night. And another night. And another after that. She met a seamstress with ill vision and offered her sight. Sewing buttons on shirts and lace on dresses was how Rose afforded a cottage of her own. Learning to score patterns in leather and barter thread from merchants was how she inherited a business. Delivering patched up coats to stranger’s doors and polishing their boots was how she met her fiancé.

The night before she was due to be wed, Rose settled at her kitchen table, fiddling with the petals of flowers in the vase. They were a parting gift from her soon to be husband. “Blue for good fortune” he’d said. They were the same bells as the ones lining the forest floor that day she’d left home. Rose lifted the flowers to her lips.

‘Oh Gods,’ She whispered, breathing in the wild scent, letting her eyes flutter shut. ‘What if I’ve chosen the wrong place? What if I’d found the city of gold? What if I’d taken the other path?’

There was a sudden rumble through the house, like thunder, and Rose stumbled. The woodwork was quaking, furnishings shaking, plates clattering in their drawers. Rose’s eyes flew open and she grabbed the table, steadying herself in the chair. The movement subsided. The house went still. Rose lifted her hand to her chest, taking a moment to breathe. Then she noticed it. A small box. Wrapped in a red ribbon, it sat in the centre of the table, unassuming. Rose glanced around the room. It was empty still.

‘Clyde?’ She called. No answer. Rose turned back to the box. There was a tag hanging to the side. She brought it forward.

“Be sure.” It read. Rose bit her lip. Had the Gods answered her prayers? She hesitated a moment more. Then, she opened it.

Light poured out and Rose let out a screech. It was hot as steam, the very sun trapped inside the little box, and it burned her from the inside out. Her vision went white and her head ripped up to the sky. Wind rushed her body like a cyclone and no longer could she feel the chair beneath her. She was floating, hovering higher and higher, until, without warning, she dropped, collapsing to the ground.

All was quiet once again.

Slowly, Rose’s vision came back. The feeling in her skin returned and she realised her hands were resting against something cool and plush and when she looked around, Rose found she was in the forest again. The same as all those years ago, with the thick smell of damp and the distant chirping of birds overhead. In front of her lay two paths, the image branded on her mind. The left, she knew led to her home. The town with the seamstress and the lace. The coats, the leather, the comfort. The future with her husband and her little life in the cottage. The right? Gold and fortune, riches defying thought, buildings of sunlight, blessings of the Gods.

Rose’s heart raced in her chest. She marched forward. On the path to the right.

Tree’s surrounded her on all sides as she walked, towering like grass would to an ant. Rose clambered eagerly forward, not stopping to rest as she walked, bottom of her dress dragging in the mud. The first time around, she’d clutched it in one hand, other pulling on branches to stop herself falling. This time, she didn’t bother. The city of gold didn’t care for mud or dirt. Its riches were promised on entry, no questions asked.

A branch snapped in the distance and Rose stumbled. Looking around the treeline remained unbroken. She kept moving, ignoring the lowering light. This path was longer than the first. But Rose’s thoughts of the city kept her going. Well beyond sunset she walked. Well beyond the next sunset she walked. The tree’s seemed to be getting thicker, the path losing its definition to rocks and roots. But still Rose walked. She tripped on rocks. Cut her knee. But still she walked.

It had been days. Rose was huffing and puffing. And still she walked.

Another twig snapped. Rose whipped around. Her eyes were wild now, rabbid like a fox. If there were an ear around to hear, it would catch the way she murmured. ‘City. Gold. Fortune.’ A chant, unending. Still she walked.

Her hair was grey now. Skin loose. But still, Rose walked.

“Be sure.” The message had said. Rose never turned back.  

[sserpente]

Synopsis: Thanos’ cruel attempt to wipe out half of the universe failed and the titan is dead; but his actions came with grave consequences. Tears and cracks in the universe, all across space and time formed wormholes within the nine realms and beyond, giving old enemies a vicious opportunity to strike again. When the Jötuns invade Earth and the Avengers assemble to defend the planet once again, it is the help of none other than the former war criminal Loki they are reliant upon to drive the icy warriors back to their own realm. But then the God of Mischief encounters a young woman abandoned in the cold—your body mangled and altered with Jötun blood, a lab rat to the Frost Giants. He decides to take you with him and nurse you back to health, unable to comprehend the confusing affection he begins to harbour for you.

A/N: The synopsis partially sounds like a Doctor Who episode. *giggles* Here goes another (pretty dark) story I have been meaning to write, based on a dream I had once. It was supposed to be a Oneshot but as previously announced I wanted to do so much more with it so I simply kept writing. Have fun reading, my lovelies!

Warnings for this story: mentions of rape, mentions of torture, mentions of ill parent, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, abduction, slavery, (sexual) submission, injuries, blood, smut

Available on AO3!

Chapter 1

The digital map Tony had programmed spread over the entire table, mountains, hills and buildings towering up to the ceiling where they flickered slightly. White dots covered the spots in question, marking the places they had already taken, its people in great danger. There were too many of them—and it was enough reason to be concerned.

Steve Roger’s coffee had gone cold. He scratched his chin with a deepening frown, flicking through the many pages of his briefing pack as he sat at the table. There he had been, killing time, frustration and energy in the gym, thinking it was all over, that his days in the compound were numbered.

“How could this even happen?” Eventually, he lifted his head to come to terms with his new reality. Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Stephen Strange. They were all here, back and united again to face a new threat, a new foe to protect this world from.

“When Thanos meddled with the universe, he manipulated space and time repeatedly before we could overpower him. He… seemed to have caused wormholes that messed with all path ways across the universe. The Frost Giants must have found one of them… and learned quickly how to make use of them.” Stephen replied. His fingers were fondling one of his gloves as he let his gaze roam over the map once more all the while his red cape attempted to struggle free from where he was sitting on it. They had all ceased to pay any attention to it by now—not after everything they had seen and witnessed.

The Jötuns had already invaded and successfully taken Greenland and quite recently Iceland, building their strength where cold weather and icy conditions would make drowning an entire civilisation in blood, ice and fear even easier. Nature had already submitted to the cruel race… the people… not so much.

Iceland had managed to send a distress call before the Frost Giants took over, a distress call which had landed right in Tony Stark’s office. Nick Fury and SHIELD had been informed, the Avengers had assembled yet again.

Soon, they would all be back on the battlefield now, a well-deserved retirement postponed. At least, so they knew, what they did was for the good of humanity.

“Tell Thor to move his ass here at once,” the billionaire tossed in darkly when the room drowned in silence. “He’s dealt with these ice cubes before.”

Doctor Strange nodded, clearing his throat as he stood. It would have been only a matter of time for him to contact the God of Thunder anyway. Besides, he understood the gravity of the threats unfolding up in the North. Quickly, his fingers drew complex patterns into the air, sending orange sparks flying through the room. Then, he stepped through. The portal snapped shut behind him quickly.

Bucky groaned, burying his face in his sleeves. “Do we ever get a break?” He complained loudly. Steve only shrugged. His comment was meant to lighten the mood. Truthfully, it did not even work on himself.

Thor had settled down in Norway, along with what was left of the Asgardian population. Ruling as their king, he had helped choosing an abandoned and quiet patch of land to grow a new civilisation far away from humans—the very place Odin had chosen for his last destination. Charms and modern technology, developed by the most sophisticated scientists of Asgard hid the village reliably from curious mortals and it was peace and compromise that made their presence on Earth possible.

Unless you knew how to enter this place, it would be hidden from your view like an invisible blanket wrapped around the entire village.

Naturally, Thor had taken all the credit, yet it was him, Loki, who had aided the Asgardians with his ancient knowledge—seidr which no other than Frigga herself had taught him. He had sacrificed his own life in a brave attempt to save the universe from the one being that had tormented him for years, making him compliant for his causes. He was a saviour, a hero and still… no one was willing to acknowledge him. Einherjars and few citizens respected him solely because of his royal status, nothing had changed about that. Others were still disgusted by having a Frost Giant living among them, a god who had attempted to invade and rule another realm because of an alleged lust for power—and one who had imitated the Allfather himself when all he had wanted was to protect himself from Thanos.

After a long-awaited while, his own brother, at the very least, had begun to appreciate his actions and efforts. He knew that Thor would never fully comprehend his self, just like he knew that no one else ever would either. Not since his mother died.

Sighing, he stood, abandoning the small trinket he had been tossing in the air repeatedly, and made his way to the make-shift throne room. He could hear the Asgardians mutter and whisper to themselves, discussing Thor’s unexpected visitor quietly.

Loki raised his eyebrows. Visitor? Well, he might not be king but any royal matters were still his business too. He was the prince of Asgard, after all.

“That’s impossible. The Frost Giants are trapped in their own realm, the source of their power was taken from them by my father centuries ago!” Not just taken. When Asgard was destroyed during Ragnarok, the casket of Ancient Winters had vaporised along with it. Thor was furious. Gnashing his teeth, he paced up and down the room with clenched fists.

Ah, Frost Giants. Loki’s face distorted for just a split second. Old family, old acquaintances, old heritage—nothing to be proud of, nothing to be gained from ruling a cold and dead realm inhabited by monstrous warriors who longed to drown the nine worlds in ice. They were not his favourite enemies to deal with. But he was a hero now, was he not? Another chance to prove himself, if not for his own self-satisfactory needs.

“And yet they are here, Thor.” Doctor Strange replied calmly. “We must drive them back to their own realm before they do any permanent damage to our planet.” He relinquished adding that this ship had already sailed. The universe had only just risen again, the cracks and tears visible and hazardous proof of its last destructive battle.

The God of Thunder took a deep breath, pondering over what would be the best actions to take. He eyed his visitor as if he were the reason for this new-found misery. He had not yet forgotten his last encounter with the Jötuns, back when he had lusted for battles, war and bloodshed. The smug, self-indulgent and arrogant part of him was still lurking within him, so Loki knew. Jane had brought out the best in him and when she left him for good, he had, partially, begun to fall back into old patterns.

“If they have taken Greenland and Iceland, Norway might be next.” He finally said matter-of-factly. “We need to do something now.”

Doctor Strange nodded unfazed.

“Take us back to the compound. I’ll find a way to stop them and if it’s the last thing I do…” He roared.

But Stephen overheard his courageous promise. He raised an eyebrow, already expecting what would follow when he considered his words. He had hoped the God of Thunder would leave his mischievous adopted brother in Norway, far away from where he could cause any trouble.

“Us?” He still probed.

“I know what you’re thinking, wizard. But Loki is a Frost Giant himself, I will need his help. He is my brother. He died for me not long ago.” Loki pursed his lips. Yes, I am your brother, Thor. He was a fool for thinking he, Loki, had ever stopped loving him even after everything they had been through together. Trust was a dangerous feeling, he could tell Thor would never fully grant it to him—but neither would he. They were fine as they were right now. Loki would be satisfied if this was all he would ever get out of their brotherly relationship.

Doctor Strange sighed, causing him to roll his eyes. “Fine… but if he puts one toe out of line, I’ll—“

“You will what?” The God of Mischief hissed, lifting his chin proudly as stepped out of his hiding place and entered the room.

Thor breathed out audibly. Clearly, he had overheard the entire conversation, there was no need to ask; but unlike his brother, Loki already had a plan.

A/N: Here we go! Obviously, Loki is the real hero here... he always has been, no? ;-) If you enjoyed this chapter, would you consider buying me a coffee for the next? I’d appreciate your support so much! kofi.com/sserpente (or hit the ‘Support me’ button on my blog!)

[askiisoft]

FAN ART FRIDAY: Weird Science

(Banner art by @DokusatsuMurXer)

Summer is finally here! School’s out, the sun is shining, and a record heatwave is sweeping through New Mecca. So, how do you beat the heat? Personally, my favorite way is cryogenically freezing myself for decades in the hope a cure can be found for my debilitating wasting condition. You?

In truth, this week’s theme was going to be “Fun in the Sun”, but then this.

Don’t say I never listen to the fans.

[WARNING: Contains plot spoilers for ‘Katana ZERO’]

by @DmitryDeceiver

It’s true, though--this week has seen a massive surge in fan interest for Dr. von Alvensleben. Still, there was only one place to start: with this gorgeous pixelated portrait by Deceiver. Technically this isn’t even fan art, since Dmitry was the artist who designed Leon in the first place, but let’s consider this the ‘baseline’ before we see how other artists have dolled him up.

—

by @palchiba

Leon: Oooh—gotcha!

Scientist: I got caught—this sucks...

As the artist put it, “the scientist dream duo”. Leon has a little fun with the ill-fated hostage from the game’s introductory mission. Things don’t seem to turn out well for men of science in Katana ZERO...

—

by @moryu

More than the helicopter fight, more than the final boss, what took the longest for me to beat was the final room of the Leon’s Riddler-esque gauntlet: dodging and rolling past ceiling crushers, laser grids and sniper fire in a hand-cramping test of pure agility, all while the best song in game egged me on (yes, it’s the best, don’t @ me). @moryu’s chaotic array of sniper reticules, lasers, and spotlights perfectly capture the feeling being a rat in Leon’s maze, and wanting to wipe that smug grin off his face.

—

by @DokusatsuMurXer

The dilapidated purples and greens of the Slaughterhouse seem to have become Leon’s signature color scheme among fans. The overwhelmingly pure blackness of his silhouette contoured by patches of deathly-pale skin and unkempt high-school stubble make him truly irresistible, am I right?

—

by @shaocixiezi

by @moryu

Chilled “Leben” has begun.

Leon: Son...it’s hot...

Zero: Ugh...

by @55_yamisan

Teach me!!! 

Leon von Alvensleben-sensei

Leon: Hi there, son. It’s me, your dear ol’ papa.  Listen, I don’t fit in this fridge real well, so you might have to pay extra for your electric bill.

Zero: Wow.

※ refrigerator

Thus begins what I like to call the “Leon in Refrigerators” saga. Yes, it seems Leon has moved from his comfy cryopod into Zero’s tiny fridge, where they can spend some quality father-son time together. Among the various memes Katana ZERO has spawned, this one is somehow the least bizarre.

—

by @Jinxsweapon

OK, so this one was drawn before the fandom collectively realized Leon was missing an arm, but that hardly matters in the face of the sheer style on display. Looking like a ghoulish punk-rock villain from Samurai Jack, the chromatic aberration and dialogue box of pure static foreshadow Leon’s ultimate reveal as a pre-recorded phantom, repeating the same messages on loop. Also, purple and green. Called it!

—

by @55_yamisan

Unless skintight turtlenecks and cargo pants are regulation clothing for NULL research staff, I suppose Leon put forth at least the barest effort to follow dress code back in the day as he casually crosses off names of NULL test subjects while reclining at his desk. The attention to detail is awesome, as Leon’s ID card, snack, and pen are all situated to accommodate his one hand--something Yami-san’s put a lot of thought into.

—

by @matsumatsu_kou

“I told you not to.”

Leon, buddy, the first thing you need to know about being a father: never tell your kid not to touch the big shiny button. Here we see Dr. von Alvensleben, awakened and moments from collapsing into a pile of dust. Welcome to the present, doctor.

—

Whew, who thought this would be the longest FAF yet? I’m serious, I haven’t even covered a fraction of the mad lad’s fan art from these past few weeks, but please do check out more work from each and every one of these great artists. See you next week!

If you’d like some artwork featured on a future Fan Art Friday, just use the Submit Button on this blog!

[onyxfyrefly]

Recuderme

By the time Tony noticed the slight tremor in his hands it was too late.

It seemed like every wannabe super villain had conspired to strike within days of each other. The team was run ragged. It didn't matter if you were a demigod, a super soldier or a mere human with a specialized skill set; eventually you had to rest. Unfortunately rest was in short supply.

The one upside, if you could call it an upside, was the constant attacks put an end to Fury's never-ending briefings. The director would collect their statements and send them on their way to get patched up and to attempt to get some sleep before the next call to assemble.

Tony was plastered on the floor of the penthouse, the cold tiles a relief to his aching joints. He was considering spending the night in his current position when a crash startled him out of his thoughts.

Craning his neck he spotted Loki kneeling on the kitchen floor. "Everything alright, babe?"

The mage swore and swiped a cloth through the mess. "A mere accident."

Tony frowned and slowly rolled over, hissing when his inflamed shoulder was jostled by the movement. He suddenly realized that Loki had not healed him after the battle. No matter how exhausted the mage was he always appeared at Tony's side the moment the armor was removed, healing various wounds while muttering about his foolish mortal.

Deciding that walking was out of the question, he began to crawl in the mage's direction. Dignity was highly overrated and it wasn't the first time he'd been in this position with Loki either.

Something wasn't sitting right with the genius. Loki did everything with grace. Whether he was fighting, cooking or just tying his shoelaces, not one movement was wasted. He did make mistakes from time to time but this incident set Tony on edge.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Loki growled and swept up the broken pieces of the mug before grabbing another from the cabinet with unnecessary force. "It was an accident. I cannot believe that you've never knocked something off of this counter before."

It took a few tries but eventually Tony managed to drag himself to his feet. He was about to make a smart remark when Loki's hands caught his attention. The elegant appendages, steady in even the most intense situation, were shaking.

Reaching across the counter, Tony caught one of the trembling hands in his own. "You're shaking. I'm going to ask this one more time: are you alright?"

The mage sighed and he seemed to deflate. His head bowed and his shoulders sank. It made him look so old yet so young at the same time."I am merely weary. I used too much energy today and am feeling the effects." The battle that day had been brutal and would have been much more bloody if Loki hadn't teleported across the battlefield like a man possessed, projecting force fields that kept both the Avengers as well as the bystanders out of harm's way.

Tony gently tugged on Loki's arm. "Come on, let's get some rest."

Loki shook his head. "I have to analyze that artifact from yesterday's battle. I didn't have time to get to it today."

"You've been with me too long, my bad habits are beginning to rub off on you."

A small smile twisted one corner of Loki's mouth. "Usually I'm the one dragging you out of the lab."

The engineer held a finger to his lips. "I can be a responsible adult when I choose. Don't tell anyone though."

The light mood faded as they entered the bedroom. Loki was too exhausted to magic away his clothing but his hands would not cooperate. After nearly ripping a clasp off in frustration he finally allowed Tony to assist him.

Typically Tony would have taken his time, kissing each piece of skin as it was bared, but tonight he undressed Loki methodically, assisted him in pulling on a worn pair of sleep pants and tucking him in to bed. Before Tony could slide beneath the sheets himself Loki was already asleep.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Perform a full body scan on Loki."

"Is there anything in particular that I am looking for?"

Tony looked down at the sleeping mage and felt something sharp twist in his gut. "Anything, everything. Send the results to my private server, the one he doesn't know about."

"What shall I name the file?"

"Please let me be wrong."

---------

JARVIS' results were frustratingly inconclusive. There was an anomaly in Loki's energy causing it to fluctuate but aside from that nothing could be found. Tony was attempting to devise a way to obtain a blood sample without Loki blowing up the tower in a fit of rage when yet another call to assemble blared.

Tony was first on the scene and scanned the area. "Where's Loki?"

"He is still at the tower, sir," replied JARVIS.

"What the hell is he doing? We need him here!" Tony twisted out of the way of a flaming projectile.

"It appears that he fell asleep in his lab and I'm having difficulty rousing him." The genius swore and dove back in to the fray.

It seemed like hours before Loki appeared looking as pale and weak as he had when Thor rescued him from Asgard's dungeons and brought him to the Avengers for safekeeping. His appearance startled Tony enough that he missed the orb flying in his direction. He slammed hard into a building and only JARVIS' intervention kept him from hitting the ground.

In an instant Loki was at his side, daggers in hand, protecting Tony until his armor recalibrated. As soon as he could stand the mage disappeared and Tony didn't have time to worry about his lover.

The battle was nearing a close when a sight made Tony's blood run cold. He watched as Loki took several staggering steps before falling to his knees. It was Tony's turn to stand guard, blasting anything that strayed too close.

As soon as Steve signaled the all clear Tony left the suit in sentry mode and knelt at Loki's side. The mage was deathly pale and shaking, barely able to support himself. "Talk to me, Lokes, what's going on?"

"I believe I am ill, Anthony. I have never felt like this before." No sooner were the words out of his mouth when he was violently sick. Tony brushed the hair back from the mage's face and held him tightly as he retched.

"Thor, get over here now! It's Loki."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the god appeared. "What ails you brother?"

Loki couldn't reply, he appeared to be on the brink of passing out.

"Get him back to the tower immediately." Thor nodded and scooped his brother in to his arms as gently as possible. In a moment he was gone and Tony only paused long enough for the armor to wrap around him before following suit. "As soon as Bruce is awake send him to the medical floor, we have a situation."

Tony had never been a patient man but he was going to go crazy while waiting on Loki's test results. He sat down gently on the edge of the bed and took the still trembling hand in his own. It felt warm, too warm, and Tony tried to ease the knot in his gut.

Finally Bruce walked in to the room and Tony wanted to be sick, he'd never seen such a despondent look on the doctor's face. Bruce pulled up a chair and let out a slow breath.

"Just spit it out."

"Tony, he's dying."

It was a good thing that Tony was sitting down because the floor suddenly fell from beneath him. He had been told that he was dying before, he knew what that felt like. But to hear that someone close to him, someone that he loved, was dying was almost too much.

"How do we fix it?"

Bruce's forehead furrowed. "Fix it?"

"I built an arc reactor and a flying suit in a cave in Afghanistan. You not only created the Hulk but you've learned to control him. We're two of the most brilliant people on the planet. If anyone can solve this problem it's us."

The scientist shook his head. "Tony, it's not like that. I've never seen anything like this. There's something attacking his cells, eating away at them. It's resistant to every antiserum I can think of." He took off his glasses and wearily rubbed at his eyes. "I'll keep working, of course, but I don't think I can stop this."

For once in his life Tony didn't have a smart reply. Bruce squeezed his shoulder and left the two in peace. How could this happen? Loki was damn near indestructible. He'd laughed off hits that would have killed a man twice over. He'd held a conversation while pulling shards of glass from his torso. He'd swallowed poison like it was candy and even asked for seconds. Now some microscopic foe was going to be his downfall? Not on Tony's watch.

Before he could stand Loki made a sound and weakly pulled on his arm. Tony twisted and tucked an errant lock of hair back. "What is it?"

Loki's eyes were glassy and unfocused when he looked up. "I'm cold."

Those two words sent Tony into a freefall. Loki was never cold, his Juton heritage saw to that. In this moment Loki's sickness became real. The love of his life was dying.

"Let's warm you up then."

Tony squeezed into the narrow bed and pulled his lover close. Loki gratefully curled in to his warmth and closed his eyes once more.

"I am not afraid."

The soft words startled Tony. "What?"

"I heard what Doctor Banner said. I have known something was not right for several days but I did not know the severity." Loki's too warm hand gently brushed Tony's cheek. "I am not afraid of dying but I do wish that I could have spent more time with you."

"Stop it. You are not going to die. You are going to live then you're going to take me to Asgard and I'm going to eat the golden apple that you've been whispering to Thor about." Tony didn't realize he was crying until a tear splashed onto Loki's cheek. "Then we're going to have the most cheesy, over the top wedding just because we can and we're going to live forever, just the two of us. We're going to travel to realms I can't pronounce and see wonders that I can't imagine and we're going to live, okay? You're going to live. You are not going to die, understand? I will fix this."

Loki nodded and weakly pulled Tony down for a kiss, tasting salt when their lips met. The mage knew his time was near but a tiny part of him hoped that he was wrong, that this wondrous man who changed his life could save it as well.

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

As soon as Thor learned of Loki's condition he disappeared, returning a few hours later with a beautiful woman in tow. Tony knew without asking that this was his mother.

Loki had been moved to their bedroom and was curled up in his favorite wing-backed chair near the window. Tony headed down to the lab to escape but his concentration was shot. He tinkered with one design or another until JARVIS announced that Frigga was asking for him.

The moment their eyes met Tony knew it was over. The queen didn't hide the fact that she had been crying and Tony could only imagine her pain.

This was the second time that she had lost her son but this time it was for good.

"You are my son's lover?"

For the first time in a long time Tony blushed. "Yes ma'am."

Her face softened slightly. "It has been centuries since I have seen my Loki so happy. Thank you."

Tony scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I never thought...I mean...I love him. I've never loved anyone like him and I doubt I ever will again." He paused to chew on his lip before plunging forward. "What's wrong with him?"

Frigga twisted her hands together in a very familiar gesture. "I haven't seen this malady since the war. Some of the Jotuns in the dungeons suddenly started falling ill and dying yet whatever affected them did not spread to the other prisoners. Our healers did what they could but they were unable to stop the disease. For a time a feared that Loki would catch it, he was so small, but it seemed to surpass him. Until now."

"What causes it?"

"We never discovered it's origins but it ravages the body until there is nothing left. Neither magic nor medicine can help. I am so sorry, Anthony."

"Why? He's your son."

"And it's you he loves. Loki does not give his love away freely. You must be someone very special to have captured his heart."

Tony nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I guess I should start packing his things. Do you know what he'll need to take with him?"

Frigga frowned. "What do you mean? Where is he going?"

"You're not taking him back to Asgard?"

"No. Why would I take him there?"

"It's his home and you're his mother. I just thought that he would like to spend the rest of his time there...with you."

The queen's smile was heartbreaking. "Loki's home is here, with you. I have said goodbye to my son and I can only pray that the fates will be kind enough to allow us to meet again in the afterlife. I have made my peace with the fact that today will be the last time I will see my son alive."

"How...uh...how long does he have?"

"Days, weeks...perhaps a month at the most. Loki is strong but I..."

Even though Tony had only known Frigga for a few hours it was natural for him to pull her in to his arms. They stood together, each attempting to soothe the other's pain, for several long minutes.

"Asgard will always be open to you, Anthony Stark. If you ever need anything do not hesitate to ask."

"Same to you, you will always be welcome in my home."

Tony watched Frigga depart and envied her strength. He wondered how she could just walk away knowing that she would never see Loki again. It was nearly impossible to leave Loki's side for a few minutes, terrified that each moment could be his last.

"Are you going to stand there all day?"

Loki's words snapped him back to reality. Tony crossed the room and sat at the mage's feet, pillowing his head on his lap. He felt fingers begin to card though his hair and against his will tears began to fall. He tried to keep silent but Loki knew he was crying. Loki always knew.

"I'm so sorry, Anthony."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because I'm bringing you pain."

Tony angrily scrubbed at his eyes. "It's not fair. I can fix anything, why can't I fix this?"

"My love, it is time for you to realize that there are forces greater than you and I at work. It is time for my journey to end and I have made my peace with that. It is your turn to do the same."

"I'm not going to stop searching for a cure. I've never seen Bruce throw himself into his work like this before. And your mom is going to work with the healers on Asgard. It's been over a thousand years since they last studied this bug, maybe they'll have a breakthrough."

"Perhaps." Loki's tone was flat. As much as be wanted to believe that a cure might be discovered he knew that he was nearing his end.

"I would have said yes, you know."

Loki tilted Tony's head up. "What?"

"I asked Thor about the golden apples. He said it is basically a marriage proposal, asking someone to spend eternity with you. I would have said yes."

"Oh, Anthony."

A dozen emotions flashed through Loki's eyes at that moment as he pulled Tony towards him. The kiss was sweet but tasted of death.

"Let's do it anyway," said Tony while scrambling to his feet.

"Do what?"

"Let's get married."

It was almost comical the way Loki's eyes widened. "You are mad. I'm dying. Why would you want to marry me with the knowledge that you're going to lose me?"

"Because I love you. Because I want to call you my husband even if it is only for one day. Because I want to show the world that you're mine and I'm yours."

Loki brushed a tear from his cheek. "When did you get so sentimental?"

Tony knelt down once more. "When I met you. I know this isn't the orchard on Asgard or the rooftop restaurant that I was going to rent out but it'll have to do. Loki Friggason, will you do me the greatest honor and marry me?"

Though his throat was tight, Loki managed an answer. "Of course, you fool."

For the first time in days Tony's smile was brilliant. He kissed Loki until they were both breathless and brushed the mage's tears away. 

Carefully he settled himself on Loki's lap and the two watched the bustling of the city until the sun was low in the sky.

-----------

The two were married the next day. One of the many special skills that agent Coulson possessed was that he was an ordained minister.

Only a handful of people were invited and that was exactly the way they wanted it. Despite his exhaustion, Loki was determined to stand through the ceremony. Aside from the fact that he had lost an alarming amount of weight in just a few days, he looked joyous as he exchanged rings with his new husband.

That night they made love for what they both knew was the last time. Loki was exhausted but Tony was patient and soon the two were crying out their pleasure.

Tony lay with his head on Loki's chest, listening to each precious heartbeat. His husband's ring gleamed in the dim light and he smiled despite his pain.

The chest beneath his ear rumbled and he began to relax when he realized Loki was humming. It was a tune that seemed familiar but Tony couldn't place it. The sound was comforting and for the first time since Loki's diagnosis he allowed himself to sleep.

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

 The newlywed couple traveled from one side of the world to the other. Exploring other worlds was out of the question but Tony was determined to show Loki all of the wonders that Earth possessed.

Loki was stubborn and refused any assistance at first but soon it was apparent that his strength was fading. Tony had designed a wheelchair specifically for Loki using his tech so instead of rolling it hovered above the ground.

Despite the touching gesture, the wheelchair seemed to break something inside of Loki. His head sank in to his hands and he sobbed until he was sick. He wouldn't allow Tony to touch him and the genius swallowed his own sorrow as he watched his love, his husband, fall apart.

It was three days before Loki got out of bed and he was too ashamed to meet Tony's eyes as they boarded his private jet. He had composed himself by the time they landed, slipping his pain behind a mask of indifference.

Loki loved India. The sights, the culture and the wickedly spicy food eased his spirits. Tony spun wheels, gathered flags and pleaded to entities he did not believe in for a miracle.

Each day Loki was getting thinner and weaker. When he did have an appetite, which was not often, the food tended to make him sick. They both tried to hide their pain from the other but they knew each other too well.

In Sydney he began to cough. A deep, bone-wrenching cough that left his lips stained crimson as he gasped for air. The sound immediately woke Tony who rubbed his back in an attempt at comfort.

The engineer sat behind him, arms wrapped around his narrow frame, and urged him to breathe. "Just like that, babe. Can you feel my chest? Breathe with me. In and out, in and out. Just like that."

Several long minutes passed before Loki's breathing evened out and he sank weakly into Tony's embrace. Tony gently wiped his lips and brushed the lingering tears away. "Do you want me to call Bruce? Maybe he's found something."

Weakly, Loki twisted to meet his husband's eyes. "No. No more of this. I'm tired of being treated like some kind of experiment." He cupped Tony's cheek in a trembling hand. "I am dying. There is no cure, I've accepted that. I would rather spend my last days with you exploring this world, not being poked and prodded by doctor Banner."

"But...what am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around and watch you die."

"Then don't watch me die, watch me live."

--------

Tony promised that they were going to live and live they did. It was impossible to ignore Loki's condition but they both did their best to push it to the back of their minds.

Every other day there was a new sight to behold. Towering mountains, endless oceans, bustling cities...Loki drank each scene in with wonder. He spent hours weaving stories of his youth and doing his best to describe locations that Tony would never see.

He loved the sound of the ocean and often fell asleep to the lull of its roar. Tony would kiss his salt stained lips and watch him sleep, too afraid to close his eyes in case this breath was the last.

Loki was strong but even he could not out run death. Against all odds he had survived an astonishing four months. Each day he was growing thinner and weaker and he softly admitted that he was tired of fighting. They both knew that the end was close and Tony had saved the best for last.

As soon as Loki had expressed a desire to see the world Tony had commissioned cabin to be built in Svalbard, Norway. It had cost him a small fortune to have it completed in time but the look on Loki's weary face was worth it.

Most of the cabin was a specially designed glass that could withstand the extreme temperatures without cracking or fogging up. It would provide a perfect view for the night's entertainment.

"This place is beautiful but barren, why have you brought me here?"

"Just you wait, snowflake. Let's get you settled." With as much weight as he had lost, it was fairly easy to maneuver Loki out of the CAT he had rented.

Each step in the snow was agony and they had to stop twice before they even made it to the door. Inside it was blissfully warm but no matter what he tried Tony could not raise Loki's temperature. He bundled the two of them up on the couch so they had a perfect view of the sky above.

"Thank you, Anthony, for everything. I could never..."

"Hush." Tony pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "The show is about to start."

As the meager sunlight faded the sky came alive. Loki sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed Tony's hand as tightly as he could manage. "It's beautiful."

The couple watched as the sky bled from green to blue to pink and back again, the colors twisting in a hypnotic ballet. Tony felt the weak rumble of Loki's chest and smiled when he heard the familiar tune. "You never told me the name of that song."

It took Loki a long time to answer. "Recuderme. It means...it..."

Suddenly his breath was gone. He gasped and choked as he fought for air. Tony rubbed his back and urged him to breathe but he knew it was useless. Loki collapsed against him and Tony held him tightly. Part if him wanted to close his eyes until it was over while part of him was terrified to miss a single second.

He didn't have to wait long. Loki let out a sigh and that was it. He was gone.

Tony knew the exact moment that Loki died. The sky exploded in the brightest and most brilliant aurora on record that would leave scientists puzzling for decades to come. It was Loki's way of spreading a last bit of mischief as he left this world.

Tony pressed a kiss to Loki's forehead and touched his still warm cheek. He leaned close, as if sharing a final secret. "It means 'Remember Me.'"

[imaginethatawriter]

Preference-Avengers-You break a bone

Requested by  @angel34jolly-blog

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Tony is mid flight when his communication device comes to life and announces your injury. The description is vague. The only information Tony get’s is that you were hit by one of the largest men on the field and you were lying on the ground not moving. For two agonizing minutes it feels like his world is falling apart all over again. And yet the tightness in his chest doesn’t disappear when your beautiful voice comes across the device telling everyone that you were ok. That it was just a broken arm. Maybe a few broken ribs. 

Tony forgets everything else and rushes to your side. 

“Tony you can’t be down here. You need to be air control.” You try to push the man away with your good arm. But it’s no use. He places an armored hand on your back to support you and his face plate flips up. His skin is pale and the whites of his eyes are showing clearly. The panic on his face is clear. 

“God I thought you were dead.” 

“But I’m not see? I’m not that easy to get rid of. But seriously we need you back in the air. I’ll let you worry over me when we get back to base all right.” You struggle to your feet with Tony’s help. 

“Fine but only if you don’t get knocked around anymore.” Tony bends slightly to catch your lips in a quick kiss to remind himself that you’re still there. 

“Deal.” 

Bruce Banner (The Hulk)

Gif Credit: @nysmedit

Bruce isn’t a part of the mission when you get hurt, but he’s watching through the drones that SHIELD is using to monitor the mission. The guy you’re after corners you while you’re separated from the rest of the group. Even though you’re a powerful fighter the criminal gains the upper hands and doesn’t stop beating on you until SHIELD agents show up to stop him. Bruce has to be dragged away from the observation room because his knuckles are white and green is creeping up his neck. 

He sits in his lab for hours alternating between calmly thinking about helping you and wanting to murder the man who had beaten you so badly. When you arrive back on the base he’s the first person at your side. He works alongside the other doctors to reset and cast the bones that you broke. Luckily it’s not too bad. Well if you consider breaking four bones not too bad. You won’t be able to use the majority of your right side for a while, but don’t worry Bruce will be by your side the entire time helping you get stuff that you can’t reach and pushing you in a wheelchair. 

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

You’ve never broken a bone before and you’re pretty proud of that fact. Most of the time you’re the one who has to take care of Steve after he gets in a fight that’s just a little too much for him to handle. You’re not a SHIELD agent so Steve doesn’t worry about your safety too much. But when he get’s a call from the hospital that you’ve been injured he drops everything and sprints to the hospital. He practically pushes doctors over to get into your room and by your side.

“Geez you’re acting like I was run over by a semi-truck. I only broke my collar bone.” 

“That’s a big deal (Y/N). What happened? Did someone attack you? Did you run into something?”

You reach out and grab his hand even though the action causes a jolt of pain in your shoulder. 

“Steve calm down. I slipped and fell down some stairs. No big deal accidents happen. The doctor even said I don’t need to have surgery.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“Do I need to follow you around and carry you up and down the stairs now?” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Clint is very calm when you break your arm. And he’s actually there with you when you suffer the injruy. You’re out on a walk through Central Park with him and his dog Lucky. Something catches the sight of Lucky who bolts off, chasing whatever it is he saw. The leash is yanked out of Clint’s hand and the two of you run after the dog. You’re running as hard as you can, but Clint easily out paces you and you start to fall behind. Clint lunges at the dog and grabs him by the collar to stop him. At the same time you put more weight on your feet in an attempt to slow down quickly. Unfortunately your right foot hits a patch of slick dirt and suddenly you’re plummeting to the Earth. 

Your arm erupts in pain and you scream obscenity after obscenity.

“Whoah whoah! What happened? Let me see?”  He reaches for the hand that’s cradled to your chest. He takes a deep breath when he sees your arm. “Yeah we need to go to the doctors.” He helps you up gently. Throughout the whole process he is very calm and reassuring and he makes the experience a lot less scary. 

Natasha Romanov (Black Widow)

Natasha becomes extra protective when you break your leg. When she first saw you with the cast she became eerily quite for about five seconds before letting her features relax. She becomes your personal assistant for the entire time that you have to be in a cast. On the outside she seems completely composed and calm about the situation but on the inside she’s panicking. Natasha doesn’t get attached to many people because she’s had them ripped away from her too many times. So seeing you hurt really shakes her. Sometimes she just wants to run away from the sight of you because it makes her feel sick. But she knows that you’re vulnerable with a broken leg and she’s not going to let you get any more hurt. 

She spends an afternoon doodling on your cast. Signing her name in loopy letters and coloring in little shapes. Her name is easily the largest name on your cast. She also keeps a very close eye on anyone who asks to sign it as well. Which is maybe why so few people actually approach you to sign it. 

Thor Odinson

Thor is no stranger to broken bones. Though the warriors of Asgard are very tough when pit against each other in mock battles or rough housing they can break bones. However, Thor is extremely cautious around you when you break your arm. For the first two days it’s nice to have Thor waiting on you hand and foot. He carries all of your stuff and even cleans your apartment when you mention it’s getting cluttered. However, as time passes it get’s a little suffocating. He carries you up and down stares and won’t let you do anything more dangerous than walking along a flat surface. 

It’s a relief when you finally get your cast off and Thor starts treating you a little more normal. The next time you break a bone, if it happens you don’t tell Thor for as long as possible. And when he finally finds out he’s a little hurt that you kept such important information from him. You have to explain to him that you didn’t want to feel so caged in again and he seems to understand. At least this time he let’s you go to work alone. 

Bucky Barnes

Gif Credit: @buckypupbarnes

Bucky got a lot of experience dealing with illnesses and injuries back in the forties with Steve. So overall Bucky is the best person to have around when you break a bone. However, you are a very important anchor in his life and witnessing you get hurt by one of his enemies scares him badly. The first day of your injury, the doctors appointment especially, he’s intensely silent but he never leaves your side. You try reassuring him that you’re fine and that in the end you won the fight against the bad guy, but nothing will get through to him. 

The next day he’s back to the loving Bucky that you know, but he refuses to mention what happened the day before. Instead he makes up for the past by providing everything you need. Medical technology has advanced since his times taking care of Steve, but he still knows quite a few tips and tricks that make the healing move along better. He keeps you from sticking pencils down your cast and helps you figure out ways to shower while keeping the cast dry. 

T’Challa

Gif Credit: @softestisak

T’Challa doesn’t find out about your injury until about a week after it happens. He’s away in Wakanda and you’re too far away for him to visit regularly. So he finds out during a video conference that the two of you set aside the time for. You are very nonchalant about the situation and T’Challa  doesn’t notice anything until you casually reach across the screen with the arm that’s in a cast. 

“(Y/N), what happened? You didn’t tell me you were hurt?” 

You shrug. “Oh it’s nothing. I fell off of dividing wall about a week ago and landed on my arm. No big deal. I didn’t have to get it reset or go through any surgery.” 

T’Challa feels really bad that he can’t take the time to visit you and help you out, but he has an entire country to deal with. He tries to make up for it by sending you texts throughout the day asking how you’re doing and makes sure to call more often. You think it’s funny that he’s so concerned, but you appreciate that you get to talk to him more often now. 

[agent-7-at-your-service]

The Hamartia Arc - Plot: Devil Ray Dare - The Battle

((Agent 7 and Hector Norman belong to me

Agent Blueshift belongs to @myzzy

Agent 0 belongs to @son-of-joy ))

A train from the Tohoku Shinkansen in Tokyo has stopped at Otawara, Tochigi Prefrecture. Inkopolis volunteers were brought here to support the defense line; most of the volunteers were minor militia and civil defense officials, and all were armed with up-to-date Ink-weapons made by the best Inkopolis Brands. 

Among them are two familiar Agents: the Vigilante Agent Blueshift, and the uncanny Agent 0. 

Agent 7 has been quite busy before they arrived. There is already a private military company that’s hired to dig trenches and set up all kinds of defenses. It was nearly complete, yet Agent 7 is expecting forces from the Amemasu Federation to arrive quickly. He even made sure they did not go around the area they’re defending.

The terrain is a simple valley with a small patch of plain and some trees and around. 

Agent Blueshift and Agent 0 approaches Agent 7 in one of the bunkers in the trenches. He can be seen looking over a chart, moving around some pieces. He looked at the two agents.

“Of course you two would volunteer,” Agent 7 began.

“And before you ask about the others, they’re handling things in Octo-Valley and Octo-Canyon,” Blueshift informed.

“We all received that call to arms message,” Agent 0 commented, “Hector sure wants to surprise.”

Agent 7 takes out an audio player. “I would blame ya.” He played the cassette.

The audio content consisted of a raspy ill voice. It was the voice of Hector Norman, the sharkling that reigns over the Great Amemasu Federation of Hokkaido.

“I will make this message short for you, Agent. I shall give Inkopolis forces a taste of Brine. Will you be able to lead the descendants of the Great Turf War to fight like their forefathers? Survive or Perish — the decision’s yours.”

The audio ended there.

“Brine?” Agent 0 questioned.

“Must be the substance Agent 7 and I saw being used by that chemical thrower,” Blueshift assumed.

“Oh yeah, before we discovered the train in Tohoku Shinkansen,” Agent 7 replied, “It was also seen during an incident in that pump track.”

“So what will we be expecting?” Blueshift asked.

“We’ll expect the force to likely be light, but if they are bringing this ‘Brine’ substance as weapons, expect a unit carrying it.” Agent 7 placed three pieces representing Blueshift, Agent 0, and himself in the center of the defensive line. “We’ll be fighting in the center. If we need to, we can split up if things get too harried. I want to make sure everyone comes home alive.”

“Yes sir,” Agent 0 agreed.

“You’re Commander-in-Chief after all,” Blueshift agreed.

Two hours later, the Inkopolis volunteers and the private militia were already at their stations, in positions to put up a defense to halt Hector’s small contingent. 

Agent 7, Blueshift, and Agent 0 rallied at the center.

So far, nothing came. The area was silent.

The next hour, there’s still nothing.

The next hour after, the sun was setting. Yet, there is no force coming.

The defenses were already showing some early signs of boredom. Some were remaining vigilant and taking this defense seriously.

At some point, Agent 7 goes over to a watchtower; Blueshift and Agent 0 followed. Agent 7 uses some binoculars, wondering why Hector’s small contingent didn’t arrive.

“Maybe they’re slowed down,” Agent 0 hypothesized, “There were some rain and strong winds that came this week.”

“That or they are going around us,” Blueshift concerningly implied.

“There’s a force that a friend of mine know of that is preventing Hector’s forces from going to a route in the Western region of the island. The right is handled by another private military company.” Agent 7 puts down the binoculars. “That way they have to move to this prefecture.”

“But what are they did break through—” Agent 0 questioned.

“They won’t break through and get around us!” Agent 7 stressed. “They will come here, I just know it!”

“Agent 7—” Blueshift cautioned.

“What!?” Agent 7 glared at him.

“..... There, in that forest in the left and right,” Blueshift noticed.

Agent 7 uses his binoculars again and looked at the trees closely.

There were some inklings and octolings dressed in military uniforms, armed with tarnished metallic ink-weapons. Ghost sharklings were also present, armed with advanced splattershots.

It was the same in the other sets of trees. Both raised small banners of a trout arching over three arches.

“That’s them alright,” Agent 7 confirmed, “But that’s it?” He handed the binoculars to Agent 0 and Blueshift so that they can see.

While they did that, Agent 7 took out some prescription pill and took his medication, relieving his stress and stabilizing his mental state. He took a deep breath.

“Either they’re going to outflank us with a pincer attack or they’re hiding to wait for more forces,” Agent 0 analyzed.

Agent 7 sighed. “We’ll need to lure them out somehow, we’ll need to send a small party to do some skirmishing. Send that fastest to do it.”

“Wait, I don’t think it will be an easy task to do.” Blueshift warned, handing the binoculars back to Agent 7. “Take a look. There’s a small force farther away, across from us.”

Agent 7 takes the binoculars back and then examined the area across from them. There were a few ghost sharklings were stand on an open plain at a distance, and one of them is armed with some large backpack and a helm which make up a cannon. This one unit also carried a panel controller and a mini-splattershot that carried a small amount of ink.

“And looks closely at what that one ghost sharkling is carrying,” Blueshift informed, “It that—”

“It’s the brine,” Agent 7 finished.

The unit can be seen pressing a few things on the panel and the cannon it carried prepared to fire. It acted like an arc cannon as it fired, but the material that was released acted like a hydro-pump. The brine fired like grey, concrete colored nitrogen, emitting a strong sea-salt stench.

“Take cover!” Agent 7 puts down the binoculars, turns into a squid and jumps off the watchtower. 

Agent 0 and Blueshift did the same to evade the fire.

Most of the Inkopolis volunteers and the private militia ducked in the trenches. The brine was able to go as far as any ink weapon, even the splat-chargers and the beams of sting-rays. Once the firing stopped, the unit’s cannon went into stasis to cool down.

Agent 7 took a peek and saw the brine leave a horrifying petrified patch on wherever it landed. It reeked like salt.

Agent 0 took a peek to see what the brine left. “To think that someone could invent such a substance... this could change warfare...”

“I would say that just yet...” Blueshift adjusts his visors. “I seem that cannon as some cooling time. That can give us a chance to subdue that unit and take them out.”

“But we need to deal with those separate contingents hiding in the forests,” Agent 7 prioritized before giving the order, “Any fast unit, prepare to skirmish. Lure those hiding in the forests. Anyone with a splat-charger and long-range splattershots prepare to provide turf for them to swim through.”

WIth the order given, ink started flying, covering turf for a few skirmish teams to swim about and taunt the hidden enemy forces out of the forests. Once those contingents are distracted, it gave Agent 7, Agent 0, and Blueshift more focus on the center contingent.

Agent 7 and his party swam their way to the fields and started running towards the center contingent. The sharkings there were ready to fire their ink-weapons on them. 

Agent 0 carried a shield with him, using it to take as much fire as possible. Agent Blueshift easily took out some of those shooters with some ink-disc he tosses at them like frisbees. Agent 7 used a sprinkler often to see if it can blind the enemy.

Together, the three agents were able to push closer and closer.

The unit with the Brine cannon is pressing on the buttons of their panel. And the cannon is ready to fire another stream of brine.

“That Brine Barrel’s gonna fire!” Agent 0 warned.

“Split up and close in! Don’t touch the brine, we don’t know what happens when it makes contact with us.” Agent 7 splits up from the group, and the “Brine Barrel” started firing, directing its am towards him.

Blueshift and Agent 0 split up as well and continue pressing forward. Blueshift was able to arrive and attack the sharklings in close-combat, using his signature ink-based laser sword, The Quasar Blade. Agent 0 followed after, using his own ink-sword. This leaves Agent 7 to fight the Brine Barrel.

Agent 7 arrived last, going around shooting down Sharklings and fighting his way towards the Brine Barrel before it can fire more brine. The unit did fire, but  Agent 7 was able to distract it to fire in a different direction and avoid harming defenses. When it fired its small splattershot, it ended up coming empty after a few shots and un-refillable.

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.” Agent 7 circled the Brine Barrel, keeping an eye on the cool time so that he can prepare to evade.

It took a while until he detected something from the cannon. Whenever it prepares to fire, it opened up a few hatches on the back.

Agent 7 covered some turf and waited for the cool time to end. When the Brine Barrel is prepared to aim and fire, Agent 7 turns back into a squid and swam around it. He appears back in his humanoid form and pulled out a second N-zap, firing away at the hatches on the back of the cannon.

As a result, the cannon malfunction and the weight increased on the carrier, forcing them to collapse. The Brine Barrel unit is now down.

Agent 0 and Blueshift regrouped with Agent 7.

“It’s down,” Agent 7 confirmed.

“Now we can play fair with them,” Agent 0 replied.

“Let’s head back to the trenches,” Blueshift recommended, “Those skirmishers won’t hold out for long.”

Agent 7 nods and leads the small team back to the trenches. But once in the middle, they were a roaring sound that stopped them. The Agents turn around to see what was coming.

Three armored tanks arrived, carrying some barrels of brine on their sides. Then they raised their gun barrels, firing missile rounds towards the trenches. Those rounds burst into drops of grey concrete colored nitrogen. The sound of some Inkopolis volunteers and the private militia taking some minor casualties can be heard as screams and moaning.

“Oh no......No!” Agent 7 quickly run towards the trenches.

“Agent 7!” Blueshift followed with Agent 0 following behind.

When Agent 7 returned to the trenches, some of the defense units were nearly paralyzed in certain parts of the body. Some of those paralyzed parts have patches of sandy grey petrified flesh. This disturbs him.

“Fall back! Fall back!” Agent 7 ordered. “To the train!”

When they retreat, Hector’s small contingent retreated as well. Some of the private militia covered the retreat to assure there will be no further casualties. Those that are hit by the brine were carried back to the trains to get a much medical attention as possible.

This is no victory.