#the gender of the young soldier flips in my head

[bad268]

Hi! Could you do a enemies to lovers with Minho. You guys were both taken by WICKD at a young age and became pretty good childhood friends and then later you started dating in your teens. Minho was then taken away and you rebelled with Thomas and they sent you up. In the maze you don’t get along with Minho but then suddenly you both get a memory of you two dating from before the maze. Angst and you don’t get together until scorch trials? Jealous Minho lolol. Love ur work!

It’s Always Been Minho (TMR Minho X Reader)

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Requested: Clearly

Warnings: WICKED

Pronouns: She/Her

W.C. 5124

Summary: Minho and the reader were together before the maze. What will happen in the maze and after they get out?

As always, my requests and ships are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/Wiki fandom)

I couldn’t see. The last thing I saw was the WICKD workers taking me out of the little cave I called home after my parents went crazy. They caught the Flare.

I couldn’t remember all that happened. I recall them saying I would be safer with them rather than on my own. They said they wanted to help find a cure. They said I was immune. I didn’t know what that meant. I was four.

My head hurts. I think I was screaming. It could have been someone else. Who knew? It has only been a week since I followed those WICKD soldiers out of my cave. They took me to their facility. There were more people there. I didn’t get to meet any of them, but I saw them when I first walked in. I was the youngest. I didn’t like it.

They told me it was a simple test. They wanted to see my brain waves when I did puzzles. Then, they knocked me out, and now, it hurts. There’s a boy in the bed next to me. He stopped screaming a while ago. The nurses and doctors refused to come in while we were screaming, and he learned that the hard way.

By the time I stopped screaming, another person a few rooms over started. “I hate this. It hurts.”

“Tell me about it,” the boy said, turning to glare at me. “You didn't have someone next to you screaming their head off for the last hour.”

“My bad,” I sassed, looking over to meet his gaze. “By the sound of it, everyone reacts this way at first.”

“You’d be right about that one,” he laughed. “Last time a nurse came in here was to drop you off. That was a few hours ago.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Since yesterday,” he signed, flipping over to his side. “Said I could leave this morning but never told me anything after that.”

“I’m sorry. Probably my fault. I’m (Y/N).”

“Or they’re just jerks,” he laughed again. “I’m Minho.”

~4 years later~

There was knocking. I was sure of it. A few minutes passed by before I heard it again. This time, I stood up to open my door only to find Minho leaning against the wall.

“Took you long enough, sweetcheeks,” he whispered.

“Are you insane?” I seethed, moving to pull him into my room. “Them WICKD workers could kill you for sneaking out.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, rhetorically as he moved towards my bed. “What good’ll that do them? They need us.”

“Point is that they’re sticklers for rules, and one of the main rules is to not leave our rooms after lights out.”

“Again, what’ll they do? Kill me? Doubt that,” he smirked as he wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me down to the bed on top of him as he laid down. “Plus, I got news.”

“What kind of news?”

“Good news,” he smiles. “Everyone’s merging.”

“Like everyone everyone or most of us?”

“Well, obviously the golden four won't be with us, but I heard we’re gonna be allowed to eat together, go to classes together, and we’ll have roommates.”

“They would never room you with me,” I laughed at his statements. “They’ll stick you with Newt and me with Harriet.”

“Unless they group us in those two huge rooms by the stairs,” he offered. “Maybe they’ll split us into the groups they’re prepping us for.”

“If they do that, they’re probably going to split us by gender,” I countered. “I heard group A was going to be the guys and group B was the girls.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be sneaking into the girls’ room every night.”

“Take a lady to dinner first.”

“I literally eat with you at every meal!”

~4 years later~

I couldn’t sleep. I just couldn’t shut down. This room was too big, too echo-y. Every little sound caused anxiety to rise in my chest. I didn’t like this new room. I missed my isolated cell. I miss Minho randomly stopping by and talking for hours. It’s been years since the merge, but I still do not like it.

Then, I heard the door close. I pretended to be asleep, in fear of the WICKD guards catching me again. The footsteps echoed through the room, but they did not sound like the boots of other WICKD workers. They sounded like someone was being careful of where they were going like they were searching for someone.

“Pst,” they whispered. “I hate that you guys can’t stick with one format. Like they’re just beds! Why do you have to rearrange it so often?”

“Maybe you boys are just boring,” I laughed in response, immediately recognizing the voice as Minho. “Why do you come in here every night?”

“Maybe I just want to see you, sweetcheeks,” he teased as he continued to move around the room blindly until he tripped over something on the ground. “What's with all this clunk?”

“Shut up, Minho! If you want to hang with your girlfriend, take her out and let us sleep!” One of the girls exclaimed. With a groan, and probably an eye-roll, he got up and found my bed.

“Finally,” he let out a breath. “Now, you want to get out of here?”

“Take a lady to dinner first,” I laughed.

“What if I want our first date to be a walk in the park?” He offered before pausing, “or facility. We don't have a park.”

“What if I said yes?”

“Then, I will take you out right now.”

“Okay,” I giggled. “Let me grab a jacket and my shoes real quick.”

“Here,” he said, taking his hoodie off, revealing a long sleeve WICKD shirt underneath. He helped me put it over my head once I sat up in my bunk. “Take mine. I bet you’d look cute in it”

“Oh, smooth, Min,” I replied, sarcastically. “Now, lead the way.”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the large room into the hallway where we met up with Alby.

“Took you bloody long enough,” Alby complained. “We almost got caught twice!”

“Didn’t take you as a stickler,” Minho shot back.

“Last I thought, you were just going in and getting the girl,” Alby laughed as he pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the floor. “Didn’t realize it’d take you 20 minutes.”

“Okay, shut up both of you,” I stated. “You need to pack your patience.”

“And you just got shut down by a girl,” Minho laughed. He pulled me along, leaving Alby behind. “Let’s go, you lazy shanks! We’re going to kidnap Thomas and Teresa.”

“That was the plan?” I wondered. “How are we going to get them to follow us?”

“Just say we found something cool,” Alby laughed. “They’re probably bored as heck in their rooms all day. They don’t get to see anyone besides the doctors and each other, so anything is better than nothing.”

“Exactly,” Minho agreed as we continued down the hallway towards their respective rooms that were at opposite ends of the hall. “We can also show them what WICKD is trying to get us to do. Show them what kind of experiments they are doing to us.”

“I’ll get Teresa, you guys get Thomas,” I said, stopping her room, as the others continue to the other end. I raise my hand to knock, and almost immediately, Teresa opens the door. “Come on. We’re gonna take a tour.”

“Anything to get out of this room,” she laughed, closing her door behind her, and we started heading down to Thomas’s room. “Do you know where?”

“Not exactly, but knowing the boys, it’s probably the ‘super-secret hiding place’ they found last week,” we laughed. “Did you get Thomas yet?”

“Yeah, he’s talking with Alby,” Minho answered, leading us over to the rest of the group. “Now, let’s go before someone sees us on the cameras.” Teresa walked ahead to meet up with the only other person she knew in the group while Minho and I stayed a few steps behind the rest. “Are we going to the place?”

“Yeah,” he responded, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “We’re gonna show them exactly what they are feeding.”

“Is that so?” Another voice asked, causing us all to stop as another group of WICKD workers came out from behind the corner we were about to cross. “Why don’t we show you what we’re trying to do?”

Without an escape, we all follow the workers, and we are met by a few other people at the elevators. I could only recognize two of them: Dr. Paige and Chancellor Anderson.

“We are going to show you exactly what we are keeping you safe from,” Dr. Paige explained.

“Oh, we finally get to know what happens when someone gets the flare?” Minho exclaimed sarcastically. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

I turned to slap his arm as we got into the elevator and went down. Chancellor Anderson and Dr. Paige just shook their heads in response as we rode down in silence. We just awkwardly looked around at each other. Despite having done this many times, this is the only time we have been caught. Probably because this was the first time we brought Thomas and Teresa with us. Finally, after what felt like forever, we stopped at the last level. Dr. Paige led us out with Alby, Minho and I walking out first while Thomas and Teresa followed behind us with Chancellor Anderson after them.

We walked down a dimly lit hall to a large metal door at the end. Thomas and Teresa were taken another way with Chancellor Anderson doing who knows what. Once we approached the door, Dr. Paige turned to us slowly as one of the workers began opening the door. “This will, hopefully, put into perspective what our mission is, and why we do what we do.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Min, and let’s just get this over with,” I stated, turning to send a glare at Minho before moving to go into the room first. I am immediately met with a large room that looked like a forest. The next thing I noticed was the groans. I looked to the side to see Randall Spilker. He had black veins spreading around his body, blood flowing from his mouth, and the tips of his fingers were gone. “What happened to him?”

“The flare,” Randall answered. “Don’t you understand? This is what they are keeping you safe from. They are trying to keep you safe from people like me. To find a cure.”

“It’s not like we were going to leave,” Alby responds.

“Yeah, we were going to show Thomas and Teresa all the work they’ve been putting into this place,” Minho added. “We saw those huge areas you’ve been building, and wanted to show them what’s been going on.”

“Minho, respectfully, shut up,” I hissed. His big mouth was going to get us into more trouble than we already were.

“All I’m doing is defending us,” He responded.

“And because we want to get our message across, Minho, why don’t I show you around this room first?” Randall offered.

“Is that even safe?” I nearly shouted.

“We would never let the cranks harm any of you,” Dr. Paige said. “However, we will throw you in to understand them.”

Before Alby or I could register what Dr. Paige said, two other workers pulled us back out of the room, leaving Minho with the cranks. Out of the room, down the hallway, and back to the elevator; we were dragged. Once in the lift, the workers pulled out these syringes before plunging them into our necks

~~

I wake with a start, tied down to a hospital bed in my old room. Thomas is next to me, shaking me awake. I groaned before squeezing my eyes closed to block out the white lights of the room. “What the shuck, Tom.” I slowly opened them again to take in the boy in front of me. He looked nothing like earlier. He looked a few years older. “How long was I out?”

“They’ve been keeping you in an induced coma for the past three years,” he explained. “They started sending people to the maze after you got caught. Alby went first, then Newt, Minho, Gally-”

“Hold up, what maze?” I was so confused. I could not register it all at once.

“The groups they separated us in. The gigantic structures in the basement. Those are mazes like the ones we did in class. They want to monitor our brainwaves to see if they can find a cure,” he explained once again.

“How do mazes and puzzles find a cure for a DNA-altering disease? Doesn’t that seem fishy to you?”

“That’s why I woke you up,” he whispered. “They don’t know. They gave me access to all floors and rooms once Teresa and I agreed to help them, and I need backup.”

“What kind of backup?”

“Okay, so I want you to find out exactly what they are doing with the tests,” he explained. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you. Once you find the results and their intentions, we can get them out. You also need to hide from anyone besides me. Again, I’m the only one that knows you’re awake.”

“Got it.”

~~

It has been a few weeks of me sneaking around the facility, taking notes on every little thing I believe would be helpful to Thomas. I have been writing as much as I could, sliding the pages under his door, and hiding in one of the back closets.

Today, I was going to try and get down to the basement to see the mazes. Looking over the building plans, there was a small passage from the stairs to a platform that looks over one of the mazes. By the looks of it, it should be an easy thing, especially at night.

It was nearing midnight, and I know the majority of the staff is off to bed. I make my way down the never-ending staircases to reach the last floor before turning off towards a door that leads to the passage. The narrow hallway twisted into a spiral staircase. Once I got to the top, I opened the door to see a gigantic enclosed yard.

“Holy crap,” I whispered to myself as I looked at the field. From where I was standing, I could see a few people walking around the perimeter, and in those people, I saw Minho. It was him, Newt, Alby, Ben, and Gally. I had no clue what they were talking about but they were laughing at something, then Alby slapped the back of Minho’s head. I jotted some notes about what the place looked like and what they were doing into the notebook I snagged from one of the supply closets. I hid the book in the back of my shirt and turned to leave, but the sound of the passage door locking.

I took off running down the normal entrance/ exit stairs despite knowing it would be completely open; if I was going to get caught, I needed to make sure Thomas knew what was going on in the mazes. I took off running up the stairs, hearing the pounding of multiple sets of footsteps following behind me. I took a shortcut up to Thomas’ room. I needed to get these to him without the guards noticing.

I turned the corner to his room before throwing the entire notebook under the door and taking off toward the only exit I knew of. As I got to the last door, I opened it using a key card I had stolen from a desk, but when the door opened, I was met by Janson.

“Who woke you up?” He teased me. “Last I checked, you were unconscious.”

“I woke up myself, Ratman,” I laughed in response. “Just you wait until I tell everyone in this facility exactly what you are doing with us. I saw those grievers. You are literally trapping us and not letting us leave! I have seen seven people get killed by those grievers directly, and another ten from getting stung. I will make sure that everyone knows about the cruel punishments you put us through!”

“Maybe, but you’re not going to remember what you saw,” he responded. I was not able to respond before a doctor came up behind me and injected me with something.

~~

I couldn’t tell where I was. I couldn’t see, but I could tell that I was moving. Very fast at that. After my eyes adjusted to the dark area, I could make out that I was in a small room with boxes surrounding me. I went to go over to the crates but fell down as the room came to a sudden stop.

The top of the room opened, and I had to squint my eyes as the bright light evaded the area. Once I was able to see again, I noticed a group of guys huddled around the opening.

“What the shuck?” One said.

“Since when did they send girls here?” Another said.

“Oh great,” A third said with an eye roll, “stick her with Fry. I’m not dealing with her.”

“What is this place?” I asked. “Who are you?”

“You’ll learn with time, greenie,” The second guy said, jumping into the box. “I'm Alby. I run this place. It’s the Glade.”

“What did I miss?” A guy walked, more like limped, over from a building. “Wait, they sent a girl?”

“Yeah, Newt. What does that mean?” The first guy that spoke said.

“I don’t know,” Newt responded. He and the guy he was talking to walked over to the end, and the other jumped in with Alby and me while Newt stayed at the top.

“Minho, take her and show her around,” Alby commanded. Minho went to protest, but Alby stopped him. “Newt would, but his leg is still healing and walking ain’t doing him any good.”

“Fine, let’s go, greenie,” he huffed, climbing out of the box.

“Who are you calling greenie? What is a greenie?” I responded, following him out. “Last I checked my name was (Y/N).”

All of the guys gasped in surprise and started talking among themselves. Alby climbed out as well and pulled Newt into a side conversation while Minho just stared at me like I was crazy.

“You know your name? Already?” He asked, curious as to why the creators would send someone with at least partial memories.

“Yeah, you think I’m dumb?” I snapped.

“No, just no one remembers anything when they get here,” he snapped as well. “And until you can prove that you’re not useless, you’ll just be weak to me.”

~~

It has been a few months in the glade. I have not remembered anything other than my name, but I moved past that in order to prove myself to these boys. The only people in this place that did not question my worth were Alby and Newt even though I have worked my way up to being a builder and occasional runner.

Minho had some weird vendetta against me. He thinks I am out to get him or something stupid like that. It’s almost like he doesn't understand that I am just doing my part.

“Why don’t you let the stronger guys take care of that,” Minho sneered, poking at the fact that I was carrying wood to the area where we would have the bonfire. “Look like you’re struggling there, shank.”

“Minho, respectfully, shut up,” I growled, “Let me do my job in peace. I don’t run into the maze to bug you.”

“Hmmm, yeah you do.”

“Not on days that I’m not allowed,” I snapped. “Even then I’m not near you and Ben. I’m off on my own.”

“Hey, (Y/N), get back to work,” Gally shouted, “Those logs ain’t gonna move themselves.”

I was about to respond when the box sounded that a new shipment was in as well as a new greenie. We all went to crowd around the box, and when it opened, I recognized the person. I could not say from where, but his face looked familiar. He didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything before he jumped out of the box and bolted towards the doors of the maze. Minho and I took after him, but we didn’t need to run for long as the greenie tripped. Once we got him into the slammer, I knew I wanted to talk to Alby about making him a runner.

“That’s a suggestion you need to bring up with Minho,” Alby said. “It’s his section.”

“You know he’d never listen to me,” I started. “Plus, he’d never let a newbie into the maze.”

“Here, we will have a meeting, and we’ll vote on it.”

~~

“No.”

“We already voted, and we need more runners,” I reasoned. “You’re not even running with him. I’m the only one that doesn’t have a partner.”

“Still, I’m the keeper of the runners, so I get the final say, and I said no,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Just let it go, and leave me alone.”

“I’ll leave you alone when you respect democracy, you slinthead.” I continued following him as we approached the bonfire. Gally was already throwing hands with Ben, Winston and Fry already had Gally’s concoction and Newt was talking with the greenie. “All I’m saying is to give him a chance.”

“Fine, he got one day to prove himself, and I’m not handling him, is that clear?”

“Crystal,” I spat with a tight-lipped smile before turning away from Minho to approach Newt and greenie. However, the greenie was being pulled into the ring by the time I got to them. I looked over to Newt to see him looking nervous. “This is initiation. He’ll be fine.”

“Were you able to talk sense into Minho?”

“Yup, he’s got one day to prove himself,” I stopped, hearing someone hit the dirt. I saw the new guy on the ground, but he did not get up right away. Just as Newt and I were about to react, he jumped up screaming his name.

“Thomas!” He exclaimed. “My name is Thomas!”

~~

“Alright, Thomas,” I paused out of breath. We had just gotten closed into the maze with Minho and Alby. Minho and Alby ran together today since Ben was sung yesterday, but now, Alby was also stung. No one had ever been locked in the maze, and now the four of us had to survive together. “We just killed ourselves.”

“No, I’ve got an idea,” Thomas started.

“Thomas, no,” Minho snapped, propping Alby against the wall. “We are dead. There is no way we can survive the night with the grievers and Alby being stung. We. Are. Dead.”

“No, I have an idea. We could tie Alby to the vines and hang him up,” Thomas explained as he pointed up the wall. “We just need to work together.”

“Thomas, hate to break it to you, but Minho hates both of us,” I responded bluntly. “So while I might help and it might work, there is no way we would ever work together.”

With that, Thomas and I started wrapping the vines around Alby. We worked together to secure the vines and pull to hang him at a safe height. All the while, Minho sat and watched. Just as we finished, the sound of gears and scraping got louder, almost as if it were right around the corner. Once we secured Alby in the air, we took off in different directions instead of sticking together.

I could not tell how long I had been running, but eventually, I found a cliff and a small hiding place. I threw myself into the hole as the griever came around the corner. Thankfully, it did not see me, but another set of footsteps turned around the corner. It was Minho, but the next thing I knew, the griever was on top of him.

I did not really want to help him since he would not do the same if I was in his shoes, but I also could not let him just get stung. Thus, I jumbled out of the hole, grabbed a vine, and whipped it at the griever. “Over here, griever!” I shouted.

Minho had already been stung, but he looked over at me with a glazed look before passing out as the griever walked up to me.

“I clearly did not think this through,” I mumbled to myself as I took off running in the other direction. I, quite literally, ran into Thomas before scrambling to get up, pulling him with me. “Run!”

“What?” He trailed off but followed closely behind once he saw the griever on my tail. We ended up splitting up, me going right, and Thomas going left. I ended up doing a circle which worked out since I was able to get Minho hidden in the hole, so he would not die. He stirred as I dragged his body toward the hiding space, and he started mumbling pieces of a conversation but still not opening his eyes.

“Golden four,” he muttered. I listened curiously as there was a break, but he picked up after a second, almost as if he was having a real conversation. “Split us into groups…Sneaking into the girls’ room every night…I literally eat with you at every meal.”

That last sentence sparked something in my mind, it was like the floodgates opened, and it’s like I could remember most of my life before this maze. I do not remember specifics, but I do remember running around a huge facility with a small group of people. There were three boys, Newt. Alby and Minho, and one girl. We would cause trouble in the cafeteria, roan the halls, and run from guards. That was about as specific as I could get.

Leaving Minho where he was, I took off to find Thomas. Finding him relatively quickly with a griever pinning him down, I grabbed a vine yet again to whip at the machine. This time, instead of it just coming back at me, the vine wrapped itself around the legs of the griever and tripped it. Thomas scrambled from underneath it to stand beside me as the griever began tearing through the vines. It stood menacingly in front of us before, almost like a switch, just turning around, and leaving us without a thought.

“Minho got stung,” I told him as we started walking back to the doors. “I hid him.”

“Why would you do that? Not to be mean or anything, but you guys hate each other," Thomas asked as we dragged Minho out of the hiding spot. “He would’ve just let you did probably.”

“Regardless of our hatred, I am not letting anyone die in this maze. Not on my watch,” I replied seriously as we approached the doors that were just opening. We propped Minho against the wall as we got Alby down. Thomas carried Alby while I dragged Minho closer to the doors as they finished opening, and every glader was standing, waiting for us. I leaned closer to Thomas, whispering, “I’m not a monster.”

~~ It’s been nearly a week since we got out of the maze. Three days since we got out of the glade. Minho and Alby survived, but Gally and Chuck died on our way out. Now, we were all separated, well most of us were. The boys got to stick together, and Teresa and I stuck together. I’ve got a bad feeling about her, but I’m apparently the only one.

Minho, on the other hand, has been avoiding me like the plague. I know he’s asking about me because Thomas and Newt still talk to me, but anytime Minho sees me around them, he turns the other way. I want to know what he remembered, but I know that is something he would never tell me.

One night, I got curious. I wanted to know where the “safe” people were going, so I stole a key card and snuck through the vents to reach the backrooms. I was not expecting to see hundreds of teenagers strung up, hooked up to a multitude of machines. I found a couple of loose guns, so I grabbed those, hoping the guys would bust out with me. If not, oh well, I have a weapon now. I crawled through the vents to reach the boys’ room. I heard them talking quietly, so I waited for a break in the conversation.

“You’re not making any sense,” Newt said. “What do you mean you remember her?”

“When I got stung, I remembered a conversation and we were talking about a merge,” Minho explained. “Like I think we were here for a long time and then the WICKED people put us into the groups. Y’know, Group A and Group B, but she should’ve been in Group B. Why was she in our group?”

“We do not have time to focus on that,” Thomas reasoned. “We need to figure out exactly how you know Y/n and how we get out of here. Seriously, I have a bad feeling.”

“I think we were together,” Minho mumbled. The rest of the guys gasped, and I let out one quietly to myself. None of them heard it as they continued the conversation. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Well, how do you feel?” Newt pressed. “You wouldn’t be so caught up if you didn’t feel something for her.”

“Maybe I do!” Minho exclaimed. “She literally saved my life, but she hates me.”

“Minho, trust me,” Thomas speaks up, “she does not hate you. When she was talking about saving you in the maze, she did not look like she hated you. There’s no way.” It went silent for a while, so I decided to put aside my shock and make an appearance. I knocked on their vent. I could hear them jump before Thomas lifted it. “Oh, what’re you doing here?”

“You won’t believe me, but we need to get out of here. Now,” I pressed. “They’re stringing us up. There is no safe haven. They’re killing us.”

Running through the halls with Ratman chasing me did not bring up the best memories. I remembered waking up after Minho was sent up to the maze, and Thomas recruited me. Not the best time, but I pushed through. At one point, I tripped. I thought I was dead. However, to my shock, someone stopped.

“You’re not dying on me. I won’t let you go now that I remember,” Minho. It was Minho. It’s always been Minho.

~~~ Part 2 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2022. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[thunderclaw100]

[Kii belongs to @messinwitheddie ]

(I had this in my head for a while now and had to draw it out or I’d go mad if I didn’t!😅)

Tallest Miyuki was in the middle of talking with her wardrobe staff. They were showing her a few selections of silkwear and pictures of her next body armor. Miyuki is feeling picky today and had been flipping through one clothing to the next. Her mood has been sour lately and it’s because more than one thing that’s been on her mind. First: not being allowed to be with the Irken she loves. Second: loosing her sworm. Third: Only getting to eat a certain amount of food. Her waist is not getting any smaller and people have been talking about it.

“Uugh! What now?!”

Miyuki felt her pak buzzing and it can only mean one thing. A control brain his hailing her, and she knows which one. She got up from her lounge couch, dismissed her drones and then leave her chambers to reach to room where the green control brain is awaiting her arrival. Miyuki, already knows this is going to be a an discussion about another one of her foolish antics, if she can remember whatever is was.

“Greetings, material brain. You wanted to speak with me….again?” She said without a hint of annoyance. The green control brain made a robotic noise. The screen in the front static before a hologram figure appears in Irken form. Kii stands before Miyuki, with her materialize orange wardrobe and a cape to add a bit of flow to it. She looked as radiant as the day she was in her younger years.

“Tallest Miyuki, what we’re you thinking? Leading that soldier on like that, with your lovey-dovey nonsense?” Kii said. Hovering towards Miyuki. Staring her down with those green, judgmental eyes of hers.

“I don’t understand….what did I do wrong?”

“I’m talking about that little talk you had with that cadet, Red! You dult!” Kii spat.

How the heck did she find out about that? Miyuki was in her private chambers, where no telepathic link to the control brains can reach her. Surely Red did not say anything about this after their talk, right? Miyuki looked up at the material brain. The disappointment she was giving her. Or was that disgust?

“Cadet Red needed a little comfort and a nudge in the right direction he wants to be. He shared his pain with me and I did the same with him.” Miyuki told her. Feeling a little anxious with the way Kii is circling around her like a defenseless prey.

“You’re encouraging him to embrace attachments to another drone. Have you learned nothing from our discussion of Spork?”

That was a low blow to Miyuki’s chest. Why bring up something that will bring nothing but heartache? The green control brain stopped moving around and stood in front of Miyuki.

“Spork’s situation is different from cadet Reds. I don’t get why you’re so against drones falling in love? Surely you felt love once, my maternal grace.” Miyuki said. Kii turned away from her.

“Love….I had no need for such a weak emotion. I had many sires, but no male was good enough to satisfy me. I hated them all and wished for their demise. They did not give me what I want but I’ve seen what they’ve done to our females, Miyuki. Kii shutters.

“pfft but aren’t you now connected to two males?” Miyuki smirked, hand on her hip. Why would Kii say she hates males if she allowed herself to be linked with two other former bodied tallest? Did they have anything to do with why she’s so angry at the world?

“Sox and Hitz? We have history together. One I wish not to speak of. They are part of the problem but I have always have a dislike of males in general. This empire relies on pure strength and intelligent alone. There is no room for romance and petty little feelings. I did what I can to make sure OUR gender stays relevant to this day! You have no idea what these men have done to us in my time. I don’t expect you to understand. You’re too young. Kii told her. Clenching her fingers in reminder of an incident in her past. Miyuki’s eye twitch.

“Forgive me for being so blunt but you’ve completely lost your mind. I have lead this empire forward to a bright future. You’ve seen the massive, right? With it we can make our travels for conquest more efficient than ever. It shouldn’t matter what our drones do with each other as long as they contribute to our goal.”

Miyuki went on and on. Countering the mother brain’s criticism of her. But the further she speaks, the more angrier the green control brain was getting. Kii hovered over to her.

*SLAP!!*

Miyuki eyes widen in shock as she touched her left cheek. Kii is in hologram form but that sting from that slap felt all too real. Kii was fuming with anger. “NEVER HAVE I MET SUCH INSOLENCE FROM ONE OF MY OWN FEMALES! You do NOT get to speak to me as if I am a mere smeet, Miyuki.” Kii snapped.

“I’m sorry…..I didn’t realize I was venting out on you, my grace. I just didn’t think it should be a problem for me or any other female to love….”

Kii growled. She felt the urge to slap this woman again but regain herself. “I told you before, during our last conversation that I will not have you ruin the work I put into making our females worth more than what they are. You remind me of another female tallest I’ve once had measured. But even she did not talk to me with such disrespect! How dare you?!”

“But I was just trying to-“

Kii clamped her hand over Miyuki’s mouth. “Do not interrupt me! You were supposed to be the example for all Irken females. A symbol that shows WE can carry ourselves with pride and dignity. That we let NO fucking male determine what we should be and how we should live.”

Kii removed her hand and hovered back a little. Miyuki looked at her with wide eyes. “Stars….who hurt you?” She said.

“Men hurt me. Just like they will do to you if you don’t sharpen up on them. Don’t think I don’t know what you did behind my back. I may not reach you in your chambers, but I do have drones who will watch and listen to everything you do, Miyuki. You cannot hide behind my blind spot. Can’t you see I’m trying to save us? A man’s world has brought nothing but tyranny and injustice.” Kii said. She turned around to get ready to return to her own duties. Miyuki had one more thing to say.

“Material brain? All I ever wanted is to make you proud of me. Not just as a female but a leader who wants to make a difference in our world. From our own history, we’ve been through so much already. I only wished you’ve seen the better side of our accomplishments and not dwell in the bad parts that lead the Irken empire to where it is today. Hardship-“

“Do not speak to me about hardships, Miyuki. I’ve seen them. I LIVED through the ones that brought me up and broke me down! You know NOTHING about real hardship until you put yourself on the line of it. Kii’s hologram figure phases out for a few seconds. Her system still needs to be checked upon, so she needs to go.

“From now on, I don’t want you getting close to that Spork soldier. Only when he is needed for important work or used as your escort. I do not want to see any of our females taking after you and your sneaky performance with a male. Disgusting! You may go now, Miyuki. Hail the maintenance for me. I need a system repair.”

“As you wish, maternal brain….” Miyuki bowed her head respectfully. Then turned away to leave the chamber the same time Kii’s hologram figure disappears. This talk has left the tallest feeling conflicted and a bit hurt. Miyuki touched her left cheek, where the green control brain has slapped her. It still feels tender, and it made her rethink her actions, and hold her tongue the next time she is summoned by the control brains. Miyuki said nothing to her drones when they saw her. Then she returned to her chambers to reflect.

[captainkirkk]

Asks! I can do that! Imagine if the Smitten Soldier was any sort of writer as a hobby and admits that the whole thing with the crush and the meetings and the general smitteness sounds like a great set up for a fairy tale? And starts writing it? Maybe the changling guard and the ever honest, sincere, fierce fae prince meet by moonlight chance, keep meeting in the in between hours where they can slip away. It's part wishful thinking, part dreaming. And then somebody finds the manuscript

Okay. I have a confession to make.

Do you ever just daydream idly and then spiral and accidentally Plot? Because I’ve done that. It’s not exactly what you’re suggesting (that is, SS writing out their story), but it reminded me very strongly of it, so here you go:

Zuko has been a fan of theatre his whole life. He inherited the passion from his mother, and his memories of attending plays are some of the happiest from his childhood. He especially loved the ones with spirits. 

In the Fire Nation, there is a very old tale about a spirit that stole the heart of a Fire Lord that accidentally slighted it. The Fire Lord is the soul of the Fire Nation, the living incarnation of Agni, and without their heart, the Fire Nation began to suffer. Crops withered. Livestock died. Newborns came in the dead of night, underweight without a bending spark. 

It is a very old spirit tale, so old it has passed into legend (though many people believe it to be true), and has many different adaptions with many different endings. Zuko’s favourite is the one where a person - either the Fire Lord’s child or lover or a group of loyal civilians - has to rescue the Fire Lord’s heart from the wayward spirit, and save both the nation and the monarch.

Zuko forgets about the tale as he grows older. But years later, after he is banished and returned and crowned Fire Lord, the spirit returns. And, once again, steals the young Fire Lord’s heart (for Reasons). 

Word spreads very quickly. People fear the Fire Nation will suffer once again. A great many people go searching for the Fire Lord’s heart, but they do so because they want the fame and glory of being a national hero, not because they care about what happens to Zuko.

A young soldier, who was born to a poor family of fishermen in the south, hears about the tale. Their commanding officer waves the tale away, because there is nothing anyone can do against spirits. But the young soldier can’t stop thinking about it. Because the Fire Lord is around their age, isn’t he? And his heart has been taken. That must be such a lonely and cold existence, to live without your heart. 

And so the young soldier sets out to find the heart. They don’t want glory or money or acknowledgement. They just want the young Fire Lord to be safe and strong again. And they - the only truly selfless person to venture out on this journey, alone in a ricketty boat with only their determination to keep them company - find it. 

And that’s how Zuko’s life accidentally becomes a spirit tale (or, well, more of one than it already is), that will be passed down for generations to come. 

[buckystevelove]

Three Musketeers

Part 8

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warning: fluff & angst

A/N: hope you like it, please leave comments and reblog!!

The next morning you decided to make breakfast for YOUR boys, god you were in cloud nine, you couldn´t believe you had two amazing men, both of them wanted to be with you. You were making pancakes with chocolate chips, and eggs for them. You have been dating Bucky for 5 months now, you knew he needed to eat a lot.

You were flipping the pancakes when you felt a pair of strong hand wrap around your waist. “Hey beautiful, that smells incredible.” Steve said kissing you cheek, you loved that he was so sweet, even when you just got together yesterday, he was loving with you, the three of you just clicked together; it was perfect.

“Well, I hope you like it, there is so coffee on the pot if you want.” You turned around and placed a kiss on his lips. “Where is Bucky?” you asked him while placing the last pancake on a plate and taking it to the table.

“He is still sleeping, he was like this when we were young, sleeping till noon when we didn´t have

work.” He chuckles at the memory. “I used to wake up earlier and look at him, trace with my eyes his face, his perfect jaw line, his nose, the way his eyebrows frowned. He is so pretty, one of that mornings was when I realized I was in love with him, staring at this gorgeous pouty lips, I wanted to feel them against my own, to just come a little closer to him and place my head in his chest. I thought that he would never feel the same way, we are from the 30s, you could go to jail for being with people the same gender as you, you could even get killed. Then the war came and I lost him, I blamed myself, I hated that I never had the chance to tell him how I felt. When we reunited in this century, things were different, we could be together, but I convinced myself that he didn´t feel that way.” Steve had tears in his eyes, you grabbed his hands and rubbed them with you thumbs, telling you this, opening this way, must be really hard for him. “When he came back from the blip, I would hear him walking around the compound at midnight because he had nightmares, it broke my heart. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be ok, that no one would hurt him because I would always be there to protect him. Then you came around and God, YN, you are to most amazing woman I have ever met, I feel in love with you since the moment I saw you, so did Bucky. And you helped him so much, since you started dating he returned to his happy and charming way. I hadn´t seen him smile so bright since before the war. You brought my Bucky back, that only made me fall in love with you harder. I now that I have been rambling for a while now, but what I am trying to say is thank you. Thank you for loving him, thank you for taking me in. YN, I now that we haven’t been together for that long, but you are it for me, I love you.” You looked at his beautiful blue eyes, just like Bucky´s, yet so different. He looked so vulnerable, he looked at you with such love, there and then you knew, that they were it for you too. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with them, you LOVE them.

“I love you too Stevie, you are it for me too.” You stand up and took his face I your hands, and kissed him passionately, pouring all this new and exciting love in it. Then you heard Bucky´s footsteps.

“I see you are starting the day the right way.” You pulled apart and pulled him to a group hug.

“Would you go on a date with me? you asked them.

“Of course honey.”

“I wouldn´t want anybody else.”

You went to dates the three of you for the next month, going to private public places, the media knew that you and Bucky were dating, but they didn´t knew anything about Steve, neither did the team, just Sam. So most of your dated consisted on going to your apartment, eating dinner, watching a movie, and end up having sex. You were loving every single minute of it.

The dynamic between the three of you was perfect, nobody felt left out, or got jealous, like I said PERFECT.

Today were the day that you were going to meet the team, you decided to present you as their girlfriend, both of them. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were going to meet The Avengers. Yeah, you were dating two of them, but they are the closest thing they have to a family, you wanted them to like you. That was important to you, also, you didn´t know how they would react to your unusual relationship. You decided to wear a red dress, with your leather jacket, the three of you would be matching.

While you were getting ready, Steve and Bucky didn´t stop sending you cute selfies, since you reached them how to take pictures with their phones they would spam you with pictures.

Three Musketeeres❣️ (group chat)

Buckaroo♥️:

Dollface💜💗: You are so pretty! Can´t wait to see you two and shower you with kisses.

Stevie💙: You almost ready?

Buckaroo❤️: You are missing here, in our arms.

Dollface💜💗: Almost. You coming to pick me up?

Stevie💙: We arrive in 10min.

Dollface💜💗: Ok, see ya.

After you finished you make up and your ponytail, you heard some knocking at your door.}

“Hello, my love.” Steve said placing a peck on your lips.

“Hey handsome.” You gave him one last kiss.

“Ready to go, Bucky is waiting in the car.”

“Let’s go!” You locked you apartment door and took Steve´s hand.

Bucky was in the driving seat, Steve opened you the passengers door to you, always a gentleman.

“Thank you.” You gave him one last kiss before sitting down.

Once inside the car, you greeted Bucky with a tight hug, kissing all his face, placing a last one on his lips. “How are you baby?” He loved when you called him baby, and when Steve called him sweetheart. It made him warm and fussy.

“Good doll, I missed you.”

Steve was on the back seat, you switch seat with Steve, sometime he would sit in front sometimes you would, Bucky would normally drive. Sometimes when you were horny, Steve and you would seat in the back and make out, to Bucky´s dislike, things got heated sometimes. You were lucky you haven’t been stop by the police, Imagine trying to explain that Captain America got hot and bother and that was why his girlfriend was giving him a blow in the middle of the day, while their boyfriend (The Winter Soldier) was driving, ha ha. Not great for their reputation.

After a few minutes of listening to music in the car, you arrived to the compound. That’s when the nerves kicked in, you started fidgeting with your fingers, something Bucky caught up, he took you hand in his and gave it a kiss. “Don´t worry darling, they will love you.” You still had worry eyes.

“How are you so sure?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheeks, “Because we do.”

A/N: I put some Steve and YN time, so you can see them bond and have a stronger relationship. Massage me if you want to be tag.

Tags: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @bibliophile-life @classyunknownlover @authentically-rue @commonintrest

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Nine

Read on AO3

Jamie woke that morning, to his wife tangled around him. The singular thing driving him was between his legs. He kissed her neck and tugged at her skin with a sharp sting. Claire stirred and smiled up at him. Gathering her bottom lip between his teeth, his hands meandered down her shoulders, to the slope of her breasts, to her abdomen, and finally lifted the plump piece of flesh that he loved so much. 

 “Is this real? Are you real?” 

 “Would I do this if I was only a dream Sassenach?” He pinched the backside of her arse and grinned. She yelped in response and swatted his fingers away from the now stinging flesh. 

“You’re real.” She smiled and placed her palms on either side of his jaw. 

 “I’ll prove just how real enough I am lass.” He smirked and moved his hands away from her backside, further down to cup between her legs. 

 “Jamie. Stop.” Claire panted out. 

 “Have I hurt ye, Claire?” He immediately pulled away, hovering over her and softly brushing her sides. 

 “No, but there are some things I need to tell you… before we’re intimate.” 

 “Is this about Frank?”

 “What? No! Why on earth would you be thinking about him?” 

 “Well did ye?-” 

 “Once. But I didn’t encourage it.” Her lips tightened into a line. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk about Jamie.” 

 Before he could eek out a livid response, Claire jumped out of the bed towards the corner of the room. Pulling out a small silver box inside her leather bag, she plucked out a dome-shaped cup. She had two more tucked away in the small metal tin. Her hands then grabbed purchase of a small vial within her medicine bag. The objects flew onto the bed and she plopped down next to Jamie. 

 “This,” she pointed to the vial, “is a concoction of fennel and posies.”

 Jamie had grabbed the odd rubber cup and rolled it between his fingers. Claire swatted it out of his hands a little annoyed at her husband’s dirty fingernails; she would have to clean it again. 

 “And this,” she waved the small cup in front of his eyes, “is a diaphragm. Some call it a ‘womb veil’. These are all forms of birth control.” 

 “Birth… control?” He rolled out the syllables in his last word. 

 “Yes, preventative measures to avoid pregnancy.” 

 “Christ, ye would kill a bairn!” He immediately regretted his words as his wife recoiled and her eyes betrayed the hurt inside of her. 

 “No, because there would be none in the first place. It stops the sperm- seed from ever even getting into a woman to create the baby in the first place.” 

 “But surely God-” He spoke more softly. 

 “Would want me to use it.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “Jamie I’m not… I’m not ready.” Jamie shifted to hold his wife closer as the atmosphere changed from playful to sombre. “I couldn’t go through that again to not have my baby in my arms. I truly think it would kill me, it almost did.” 

 His heart softened at her admission and he knew he would do whatever would make her safe and happy, even if it meant a life of celibacy. But he hoped to God it would never come to that.

 “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss Sassenach.” Jamie carefully pulled a curl away from her eye. “Not for a dozen bairns. We’ve Fergus and our nephew and nieces- weans enough. And our two beautiful lasses are wi’ God. So,” he paused to blink away the moisture in his eyes and swallow down the tightness of his throat, “if this wee diaphragm,” he rolled the word around his tongue, ”and posy is what’ll help ye I’ll gladly pick it fer you every day if that’s your wish.” 

 He picked up the diaphragm from her hands again, inspecting it more closely. “How does this wee thing work?” 

 “Well, I place it inside me so it covers my cervix, it should rest comfortably against my pubic bone.” 

 “Ye put that… inside ye?” He was completely disturbed by the thought. 

 “It’s not like there hasn’t been anything in there before, and I’d dare say it was even larger than that ‘wee thing’.” She grabbed a healthy hold of him to emphasise her point. 

 “Aye, that it is.” He looked down with pride and she rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. 

 “I’ll have to take the herbs one more week, to be safe. Can you wait for me?” 

 “I’d wait forever if it came to it, fer ye Sassenach, always.” 

 “Well, and we can always do other things.” She flipped Jamie to his back and her head travelled down his body to the curls nestled atop his pubic bone. “So long as you don’t, ‘spill your seed’ inside of me. Well inside my-” 

 He expressed his agreement with a loud grunt. 

 Six days later, Jamie was practically jumping in his skin with anticipation. He had gone back to the cave, much to Claire’s dismay. Instructing her to stay at Lallybroch, he wasn’t surprised when her head of curls popped into the shadows of the fire in his small sanctuary. He was very attentive, eager to make sure she kept up her steady intake of fennel and posy. They spent most of the days cuddling together and ignoring anyone else but themselves when he wasn’t out hunting for food. Most of the food was sent off to Lallybroch through Fergus. She didn’t want to admit it, but they were both avoiding their family’s disorderly presence and unanswerable questions. Fergus stopped by frequently and Claire was glad of the company while Jamie was off. Claire spoke to both Jamie and Fergus about her many childhood adventures; those stories were safe from the fresh pang of loss she had endured. But Jamie finally put his foot down on the final night when Claire got a crick in her neck and returned her back, but her wee hands gripped him hard into their bed. There would be no returning to the cave. 

 Claire wrapped a shawl around her and tiptoed to the window. The sunrise was almost over, bringing with it an unusually bright and cloudless day. She peeked down across the courtyard, and her blood turned cold. Jamie was pulling up his breeks over his sark. Without hesitation, Claire shoved Jamie into the small wooden closet of the Laird’s room and quickly pulled the laces of her skirt and bodice. Not a moment later, the door banged open to the sight of a pock-marked redcoat. His eyes scanned the room and landed on the closet. 

 “Where is he?” 

 Claire played dumb, not willing to speak to reveal that her accent would be the same as his. That would raise even more questions that she couldn’t possibly answer. The only thing she could think of at that moment was to play into the delicacy of her gender and faint into his arms. With an overdramatic flare of the back of her hand to her forehead, she slumped onto the floor. 

 Her prone position reminded her of another stiff surface. A cold metal sheet, uncaring hands, and a pressure in circles on her temples. Panic squeezed her throat and veins.

 “Captain! This woman needs assistance up here!” 

 But it was Jenny who appeared at the door, not the Captain. 

 She gathered Claire onto her lap as best as she could being so far along in her pregnancy. “Oh no! My puir cousin! Ye see she had a great fall one day. The tragedy took her speech and now she has spells such as these all the time. I’m heart sorry ye had to see that Corporal…?” Claire relaxed into the familiar arms, so different from the ones that had restrained her.

 “Lieutenant Wilson.” He puffed out his chest.

 “Weel, Lieutenant, as ye can see my cousin Mistress Malcolm has taken up residence in this room recently. Bless her soul, the accident that stole her speech took her husband as well.” 

 The redcoat placed his tricorn over his heart and bowed his head. “Terribly sorry madame. Thank you for your cooperation.” 

 “O’ course, now away wi’ ye, we must prepare yer meal.” 

 Jenny was panting and gripped Claire’s hand when the soldier whipped out of sight. Liquid seeped down her skirts and to the stone floor below. “Jenny-” 

 “We must tend to the redcoats first.” 

 “No. Jenny. You’re only eight months along. We need to see to you immediately.”  

 “The Lieutenant-” 

 “Can go hang. Ian and Mrs. Crook will see to them.” 

 Jamie slipped out undetected down to the root cellar.

 Jenny cursed, screamed and paced around her room. The midwife was impossible, refusing to sanitise properly before touching Jenny and Claire finally kicked her out. No woman like that would be touching her sister nor her future niece or nephew. Jenny slumped into the bed with Claire’s help when her labouring was over. Caitlin Maisri Murray was impossibly tiny when she met the world. No screams wrenched through her tiny lungs and Claire was immediately pressing the child to her thigh. Her forefinger and middle finger pushed into her chest and she breathed into the limp body. Finally, her chest heaved two minutes later, and her loud banshee shrieks filled the room. Her niece was a fighter. With her help, she would weather her first days, which would soon turn into thousands. 

 She had taken up massaging the baby girl to soothe her traumatised muscles from the hard birth. Claire cradled her niece’s turned head carefully in her hand and propped her stomach on her legs. Her hands began to deftly massage the exhausted baby’s back, legs, and arms, and once she was finished she gave a small peck to her wee nose. She still had a lot of growing to do to recover, but Claire was certain she would become a scraggly and loose-toothed toddler and a beautiful teenager before growing into the mature young woman she could envision her as now. Opening her bright eyes, moisture gathered at the corner of her aunt’s eyes in reaction to the brilliant colour. They were so like Jamie’s, and she knew not all babies kept their original colour, but she hoped. Would her daughters’ eyes have looked like this?

  The men had all dispersed for drinks in the Great Room downstairs and Claire brought Ian over to the side to share the great news. She signalled with her hands to keep up the pretence of her muteness but whispered quietly with nearly closed lips as well to Ian. The Captain, Claire presumed, sauntered over to her and held out a paper. Laird MacKenzie sprawled across the material in an adolescent scrawl. 

 “A letter for your Mistress. We thank you for your hospitality and wish her congratulations.” Claire nodded and tucked the paper into the pocket beneath her skirts. 

 It was dark, the middle of night, and Jamie snuck back in when the redcoats mounted their horses. He fell asleep immediately tucked into his wife. She grabbed the small grey tin from within her leather bag and pulled out the diaphragm. She adjusted it inside her until it laid comfortably and sighed. It had been days since her return, filled with distress and sickness, panic and dismay, and the events of the past few months had come crashing down upon her once again. She needed her husband. Crawling over him, he woke from his slumber. He grinned up at her and slowly came back to reality. 

 “Thanks to yer quick-thinking Sassenach, not only was my life saved but my wee niece and all in Lallybroch.” 

 “You saved my life James Fraser, on more accounts than one. I thought it might be fair for me to return the favour.” Claire smirked and rolled their bodies so she straddled him. “And not only that, I want to protect you forever Jamie. To see you safe until we’re old and grey, with an army of grand nephews and nieces, and the grandchildren Fergus will bless us with, to surround us. You can’t get rid of me ever again.” She softly kissed his forehead, along his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and slowly brushed her lips against his eager ones.

 “Och, Sassenach. Stuck with ye for life? I can think of worse.” He stared back at his wife with mischief in his eyes and adjusted his body so they were both on their sides.

 Claire rolled her eyes as she lightly slapped his arm. She leaned even closer to him, which seemed impossible with their skin flushed up together already. Her thumb trailed a line across his bottom lip and she replaced it with her own mouth. 

 “Make love to your wife.” She whispered, obstructed by his lips but he heard her like his life depended on the very cadence of her voice. Claire let go of his lips to kiss the spot behind his ear that made him squirm. “Make love to me Jamie.” 

 Their lovemaking was frantic, both seemingly clawed to possess every inch of skin.

 When they laid dazed on their backs, recovering from their post-coital bliss, Jamie lightly pressed his fingers onto the fading burns on her stomach and traced up to the two identical circles on her temples. Her hand found the healing scar on his thigh and she stroked over the raised skin. She looked at the large gash across her husband's thigh, still red with the newness of the injury. 

 “How?” 

 “Culloden.” He gritted out. “How?” 

 Her hands guided his towards her stomach. “The stones.” Now, her temples. “Boston.” 

 She didn’t want to discuss it any further, just as he was reluctant to share the details of that dreary morning on the moor. She neglected the scar on her breast and he didn’t push any further for her to speak on it. Would he feel ashamed of her truth? Of course, he wouldn’t, but she did. It was difficult for her to think back on. Speaking on it would make it true, so she kept those memories locked tight in her brain. Maybe, with more time she could heal, and she would share everything with him completely like they once had been. 

 “Boston?” 

 “Danvers State Hospital to be specific. Or as some call it- will call it the State Lunatic Hospital at Danvers. Frank put me there when I-“ 

 “Frank did this to you?” Jamie’s teeth clenched in anger and Claire could feel the heat radiating from his skin onto hers. “If he were here, I’d fight him fer ye Sassenach. I should ha’ never sent ye to him.” 

 “You couldn’t possibly have known. You were doing what you thought best, with the information we had at the time.” 

 “What is it, that left these scars on your puir heid?” 

 “They’ll fade. Soon there won’t even be a scar, I’m sure.”

 “I dinna care about how they look on ye Sassenach, I care that ye went through pain to have them, I would ha’ gladly taken it myself.” His eyes were glossy as he implored her. “Now tell me.” 

 “In the asylum, they had these new treatments, electric shock therapy. They place these two rubber circles wrapped in like socks or something attached to a headband on your temples, and send volts of electricity through your brain. Like harnessing lightning right to your head.” His grip tightened, appalled at his wife’s description. “My mind was hazy for days, I couldn’t do much but stare listlessly at walls. I saw Fergus then, on the first night following the treatment, though I’m not sure he saw me.” 

 “He yelled out fer ye, almost at the same time every week.” 

 “Oh.” It felt better to know those nights he was truly there. “I was in there for little over a month, so I only had to endure it two times- wait no three, I think. I was a lot luckier than others, who were prisoners there for years on end. I shiver to think what that would have been like, a prisoner to your own mind and unable to say no to your jailer, or even saying no but them being apathetic towards your plight.” 

 “Fer all ye speak o’ the future, it doesna seem much better than now.” 

 “It’s true, some people use their innovations for evil then, that’s why the war I was in started. Evil exists in any time, in any place.” 

 “Weel I’m glad yer here in my arms, away from those mad bastards, and I know I can be there to fight anyone who wishes ye ill.” Her thigh began rubbing between his. 

 “I am too Jamie. So much.” 

 Laird and Lady clung tight to each other in their bed, in their home knowing they would have to leave tomorrow.

[anthrotographer]

Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962)

Directed by: Agnès Varda

Daises (1966)

Directed by: Věra Chytilová

Sorry for the long scroll. This is an essay I did for a class about a year ago. It was on two women directed foreign films Cleo from 5 to 7 and Daises. In the paper I get into a lot of the similarities between the films and what they do well, but I don’t get to really give my opinion on them. Both the Czech Daises and French Cleo are wonderfully unique. Daises was chaotic, fun, and plotless. I really had to work to eek out some meaning from that one. Cleo from 5 to 7 caught me by surprise of how much I loved it. It’s one of the best films I’ve ever watched. I don’t always judge films objectively like I ought to. Usually if there is an extremely stuck up, narcissistic lead character in a movie it turns me off. I’m not really interested in seeing personality types like that. Cleo from 5 to 7 breaks through for me though. The evolution of Cleo’s character is based so much on real experiences that I find it to be such a truthful story, with layers of weighty symbolism.

———————————————————————

The Timid Cleo and the Bold Daises

Through the Nineteen-sixties feminist movements could be seen sprouting all across the globe. The art, music, and filmmaking alike from these periods captured and spread these feminist ideals. Agnes Varda in France and Vera Chytilová in Czechoslovakia were women film directors who made films with women’s issues in mind. Varda’s Cleo from 5 to 7 is a slow, plot driven drama that follows, as David Cook puts it, “the life of a young pop singer who is waiting for a lab report that will tell her whether she has cancer” (Cook 370). Vera Chytilová ’s Daises appears to be a plot-less comedy headed by an anarchic female duo. Both films were made in patriarchal societies and appear to take place in them. The two films explore how their women protagonists deal with being seen as objects of beauty in these male dominated worlds. Cleo struggles with finding her self-worth outside of her superficiality and feels like maintaining her beauty is tied to that self-worth. Marie I and Marie II in Daises inversely have no questions about their self-worth and use their objectivity to their advantage. The Maries thus have less evolving to do in comparison to Cleo who’s journey it is to detach her pride from her beauty.

Cleo wallows in fear as she awaits the results of her biopsy. Everyone she would consider “close” to her, like her assistant, her boyfriend, and her pianist seem uninterested in her troubles or are unwilling to give her a comforting ear. That is until Cleo meets up with her old friend from art school, Dorothee. After a stressful day Cleo heads to the sculpting studio where Dorothee works as a nude model. As Cleo walks into the studio the camera appears to give us a first person shot from Cleo’s perspective. It’s a slow, apprehensive moving shot into the room where the sculpting is happening, giving us the feeling that Cleo is uncomfortable with what’s happening. Then we see Dorothee posing naked still in the middle of the class and she meets eyes with Cleo. She does not appear embarrassed in the slightest, on the contrary she is excited to see her friend. Cleo waits for Dorothee to finish her shift and get changed so they can walk out together. We learn as they talk that Cleo was in fact uncomfortable in the studio as she tells Dorothee that she would be “afraid people would find a fault” if that was her. Dorothee responds with one of the most profound quotes of the film and one that seems to stick with Cleo. Dorothee says “my body makes me happy, not proud” meaning that she can be happy about the way she looks without having her self-esteem or pride being affected by it. Through the first half of the film Cleo had been overtly concerned about her disease possibly affecting her appearance. This is exemplified by her constantly checking in mirrors to see if she is still pretty. It appears that to Cleo her beauty and fame are all she is good for. She sees herself through the patriarchal lens. For example, Cleo’s never present boyfriend shows up to her apartment for a quick chat in which he avoids the topic of her sickness and extols upon her beauty for five minutes until he leaves. Also, a few minutes later Bob, her pianist shows up and jokes about how he’s attracted to her because of her money. The possibility of a cancer diagnosis forces Cleo to start thinking the way Dorothee thinks. Allison Smith writes about Cleo’s cancer that “Her knowledge of its existence therefore obliges her to see herself differently, to take account of her own awareness” (Smith 97). This focus on the world outside of herself helps her find someone who actually cares about her and not just her good looks. That person is the soldier Antoine. Even though he finds her beautiful that is not the only aspect of Cleo that he is invested in. He cares about her health; the only other character in the film besides her longtime friend Dorothee that truly worries about her diagnosis. Cleo ultimately finds solace in the fact that she has made a real, non-superficial relationship with another human being. The protagonists in Daises also are involved in superficial relations, yet they do not perceive them as negative the way Cleo does.

The two young woman named Marie who headline the film Daises have no qualms about being objectified. Like Cleo, everywhere they go, they capture the gaze of men. The Maries are  comfortable within themselves enough to use their beauty as a tool for their own benefit. From the outset of the film the girls exclaim that they intend to spoil themselves, so using men for free dinners and then dropping them like used napkins afterwards naturally follows. One such occurrence happens in a scene where the red headed Marie is over at the apartment of some butterfly collecting pianist. The man creepily exclaims his love to her through a poem while Marie poses nude for him. He calls her Julie, giving us the impression that Marie gave him a false name, just like the Maries do with all the men they meet. Handing out false names shows the lack of commitment and respect they have for the men they toy with. Once Marie starts to put her bra back on, the pianist gets angry and says, “I wish you’d never come into my life!” Marie knows exactly how to play him though and the next thing he sees is Marie holding two framed butterflies over her exposed chest. The man completely reverts back to exclaiming his love for “Julie”. Marie uses this opportunity to ask for the one thing that the Maries always want, food. Women overeating is just one of the patriarchal taboos that Daises flips on its head.

The characters of this film go against the traditional patriarchal ideals of what women should be. Women are used to having their beauty be used against them and for the pleasure of men, but in Vera Chytilová ’s film the Maries use their beauty against men and for the pleasure of themselves. Traditionally women also have been forced into the submissive role in society, where they have to keep themselves composed and presentable constantly. To the Maries that is not even a thought that crosses their minds. They do not adhere to being the submissive ones, in fact they control the dialogue and direction of every interaction with men in the film. Laurel Harris seems to agree with me when he writes “…the Maries’ hysterical excess is a calculated response to inadequate roles in their society for individuals of their age and gender” (Harris 4). The duo also does not worry about seeming composed or mannerly when scoffing down pastries and appetizers in crowded restaurants. In antiquated gender roles women are made to watch how much they eat so they can maintain their figure, but at dinner with one of their suckers, one Marie asks the man “Are you on a diet?” I agree with Peter Hames assessment of Daises’ conception when he writes “Since women have been excluded from productive behavior, they have turned to art and play” (Hames 87). Hames is saying that Vera Chytilová ’s film is a reaction to woman being controlled for far too long. Whether Chytilová  set out to make a feminist film or not the end result for Daises is a film that does not judge its non-conformist female characters.

Cleo from 5 to 7 is more explicitly set in a male run society. Agnes Varda created a character in Cleo that starts off fully invested in that societal structure. Her happiness is tied up into her superficial being, but because of the cancer she is forced to take account of what truly is meaningful in her life. She starts to crave caring relationships with people who recognize her for more than just being a pretty pop star. Cleo finds the power within herself to break out of the caged existence of women in a male dominated society. Cleo at one point in the film rips off her wig and gives away her fashionable hat; two symbols of conventional female beauty. Cleo from 5 to 7 and Daises both represent women’s lives in these feministic ways.

The two women filmmakers Agnes Varda and Vera Chytilová end up making similar films in that they have themes of women empowerment. Yet, the way in which its illustrated in each film is drastically different. Chytilová’s Daises wastes no time in showing the viewer that women can be unapologetic anarchists. There is no preconception of womanhood that the Maries have to fight to overcome. They just are empowered women. Cleo from 5 to 7 shows the evolution that a particular woman has to make to escape from seeing herself as just an object. These films helped inspire a generation of women in not conforming to typical patriarchal standards.

 

 

Works Cited

Cook, David A. “Chapter 13.” A History of Narrative Film. W.W. Norton, 2016.

Hames, Peter. “The Golden Sixties: The Czechoslovak New Wave revisited.” Studies in

Eastern European Cinema, 2013.

Harris, Laurel. “Czech New Wave Cinema: The Children of Marx and Kafka.” PopMatters, PopMatters, 30 Mar. 2002.

Smith, Alison. “Agnes Varda.” Manchester and New York, Manchester University Press, 1998.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

6/9: The Con(vention) Run-in

Rating: PG (Fake fight for photo op)

Characters: Convention Attendee!Bang Chan x Reader (any gender), featuring Convention Attendee!Felix and mention of other characters

Notes: The final day of my birthday surprise series. Normally I try to attend Comic Con or its sister convention WonderCon, but both were postponed due to current events. This is a non-idol AU. The Aussie line are imagined as cousins in this story. All content is fictional. Please do not repost anywhere!

                                                   ————–

llamajinnie

I can’t believe it... Sent 8:10 AM

bc1997

It won’t be that bad! Besides the tickets were free! Sent 8:12 AM

Chan looked up from his phone when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His cousin was holding out his badge he needed to wear to enter the convention and he thanked him. He put his phone away in a pocket and slipped the lanyard on over his head.

Instead of working on music like he usually did in his spare time, Chan was accompanying his cousin Felix to a comic convention. The latter won tickets through a radio contest and his parents couldn’t attend. Because his mom didn’t want him going alone, she asked Chan if he could spare a weekend and accompany Felix to the convention.

Most his friends were shocked he would tag along with the younger boy, especially since Felix was the one who was more into the nerd scene, namely anime and manga. Chan’s friend Hyunjin was convinced that the former’s aunt likely bribed him with money if he drove and chaperoned Felix for a weekend at the convention, but Chan insisted he really wanted to go. Sure he wasn’t a huge comic book or pop culture nerd like his cousin, but it gave him an excuse to wear that Captain America costume he spent too much money on from Halloween.

“Thanks again,” Felix said as he flipped his badge to the front, showing his name. “Mum said lunch and dinner is on her.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chan insisted.

Felix shook his head and replied that it was non-negotiable. The pair made their way to a line to enter the convention center and waited for security to wave them inside. They flashed their badges at the security personnel and stepped inside.

Felix adjusted his beret, which was starting to slide off his head, due to the long rabbit ears he put on top.

“So uh, who are you again?” Chan asked as he studied his cousin’s costume.

“Momiji from Fruits Basket,” Felix explained. “He’s the rabbit in the Chinese zodiac. Thought it made sense, since everyone thinks I’m still a kid with the baby face.”

“Plus the hair,” Chan added. “Okay, never saw the anime, but cool!”

Felix nodded as he fixed his backpack straps and dashed ahead to check out the tables in the art section of the convention. Chan tried to catch up and had to apologize as he weaved around other participants. He ducked as a Harley Quinn from the recent live-action film barely missed him with her toy bat, as she started to put it up for a photo op.

“Hang on Cap, can I get a picture?” a male voice asked.

Chan whirled around and saw it was a father with a young son, dressed as Thor. He smiled at the son and nodded as he removed his shield backpack off his shoulders to hold for the photo. The son hesitated, and shyly looked up at Chan.

“Come on Thor, we need you in the picture too,” Chan said as he motioned for the young boy to stand next to him.

The young boy skipped over to him and Chan knelt down on one knee. He held out his shield backpack, while the boy clutched his toy version of Mjölnir. The father snapped the picture with his digital camera and quickly checked the photo, before flashing a thumbs-up.

“Thank you,” Chan said as he stood up. He waved goodbye to the young boy and secured the backpack on his shoulders. He craned his neck, looking for Felix, who was several feet away, talking to one artist at their booth. He quickly walked toward his cousin and tapped him on the shoulder.

Felix whirled around and pointed to some example works of art that the artist had on display. “Perfect timing! Actually I was thinking about doing a commission with this guy. Who should I have done?”

Chan bit his lip and tried to think of any anime characters that he might know. He maybe watched a few as a kid growing up, but his mum made him go out and play or practice swimming, which was better than sitting in front of a screen in her opinion.

“Um...Goku from Dragonball Z? Naruto?” he offered, trying not to wince. “Sorry, it’s been a really long time since I’ve watched an anime.”

Felix nodded and flipped through the dossier on the table for inspiration for a few seconds. Eventually he settled on some character from an anime he wasn’t familiar with (Tower something?) and the artist scribbled a note in his notebook.

“It’s going to take me probably until 1 PM to do that,” the artist told Felix. “Someone is ahead of you with a two character commission, so that’s gonna be worked on first. I’d say come back around 2:30 and I might have it ready by then.”

Felix thanked him and dug out his wallet to pay for the piece. He passed over some bills and the artist made change for him.

                                                   ————–

“Is that Binnie you’re messaging?” Felix asked.

Chan shook his head as he looked up from his phone. “Hyunjin. He’s convinced I’m trapped and not having fun. But then again, he’s not big on crowds and comic stuff.”

“Oh...” Felix trailed off. He craned his neck and noticed there were two seats closer to the front of the room. “We should grab those before the next panel starts.” He pushed himself out of his seat and quickly walked over to the empty chairs.

Chan stood up and followed his cousin, eventually taking the aisle seat in their new row. The pair had walked the floor for a few hours and now they were sitting in a room to listen and watch a panel on some anime series that Felix watched regularly. This allowed Chan to sit and relax, as well as respond to Hyunjin about how things were going.

“I promise we can grab lunch after this,” Felix whispered as someone came on stage to introduce the panelists.

Chan flashed him a thumbs-up and pocketed his phone out of respect for the panel. He leaned back in his seat as the moderator introduced all of the voice acting talent and then they rolled a new trailer for the next season. Once the trailer ended, the moderator began asking questions to the members on the panel and the audience listened to their responses. Eventually the panel began accepting fan questions, and Felix decided to rush up to the mic to ask one.

“MOMIJI!” one of the female panelists yelled with a huge smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, you are precious!”

Felix blushed at the compliment and ducked his head, before composing him and asking his question. The deep voice shocked the panelists and Chan bit back a laugh as one of the male panelists joked that he wanted to trade voices with Felix. The comment made the room laugh and Felix laughed along with them, then stepped to the side for the next fan to ask their question.

                                                   ————–

The boys exited the panel room after Felix’s panel concluded and Chan began researching local restaurants they could get lunch at. Both decided against the convention center food, as it was pricey and Felix mentioned that Minho had tried it once during a cat convention, giving it poor reviews.

“There’s a cat convention? Oh wait, that’s rhetorical,” Chan mused as he pictured their friend walking every row of the cat convention with a content smile on his face. “Do you know if they had cats for adoption? Or was it products for your cat?”

“Both apparently,” Felix replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Minho went to look at special food for one cat, cause he needed to go on a diet, and then he wanted a fancy collar for his female cat.”

“That’s not where he got the third cat right?”

His cousin gave him a blank look and scrunched his brows. “Hang on, he has three now? I thought he only had two!”

“No he’s got three now,” Chan confirmed. “His Christmas card showed him with three cats plus him wearing Santa hats.”

Felix tried to recall if he got a Christmas card from Minho, while Chan went back to looking at restaurants. He paused when he found some options and started to show them to his cousin. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to see it was someone dressed as Bucky Barnes in his Winter Soldier attire.

“Hey Cap, could we get a fight picture?” you asked under your black mask.

He nodded as he slowly removed his backpack from his shoulders and held the straps so they wouldn’t show in the picture. He turned to face you and you balled up the fist with your “metal” arm.

“I’m going to punch your shield, okay?” you explained.

He nodded and positioned himself as if he was defending himself with the shield. You placed your fist on the center of the shield and adjusted your feet, so it looked more convincing.

Felix stepped between the two of you and asked if you had a camera or phone you wanted to use. You nodded and used your free hand to pull out and unlock your phone. You switched to the camera app and handed it to him, murmuring a thank you.

He took the phone and put in landscape mode, checking to make sure everything was in focus. He counted to three, before clicking the button your screen a few times, just so you had more than one. He then switched to his phone and took some pictures too. He passed your phone over and you thanked him before checking the photos over.

“Perfect, thanks,” you replied. You dug around in your tactical vest and produced a card with your name and Instagram handle on it. “If you’re on IG, feel free to tag me. I’ll be uploading pics later tonight.”

Chan accepted the card and thanked you with a smile. He put it away in his pocket and added that you did an amazing job with it.

“Thank you,” you replied. “The arm was the hardest part but it came out good. Not the most comfortable thing to wear, but it’s all good. You make a good Cap.”

Chan ducked his head and waved it away as nothing. “I bought my costume – wish I had your talent.”

“Ah who cares? It looks great and you do too,” you confirmed, flashing him a thumbs-up. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you groaned when you saw it was your alarm for your next panel you were hoping to see. “Shoot, gotta run. My panel starts in 7 minutes. Have a great con!”

Chan nodded as he waved goodbye to you, while Felix held up his phone to show off his pictures.

“They came out pretty good,” he noted. “I’m guessing they’re a professional cosplayer.”

Chan patted the pocket with the card. “I’ll have to look them up online when we’re done.”

[riderdrauggrim]

Bored at the Hotel Storytime.

So last week when I was at the West Edmonton Mall to see the spectacle of it all, and check out the new Drive! indoor electric multi-level go-kart track, I wandered past a Build-A-Bear. It was only 8:20pm but most of the shops were shuttered closed, including this one.

I knew of Build-A-Bears, but I'd never seen a store in person, so I lingered and peered through the gate at the plush displays inside.

And that's when I saw.

Him.

I'm a sucker for Werewolves, always have been, since the day my dad gave me a Monster In My Pocket trading card he'd found on the ground outside a 7-11 back in '91. It was a little scuffed from being on the ground. But it was beautiful.

(Photo from an Ebay sale)

I remember saving up my holiday money and being taken to Toys 'R' Us on 87 Meadowvale Drive, St. Catharines (still there!). I picked out a pack with a Red Werewolf, because Red was Cool. He was the leader of my assorted monsters and plastic animals.

Look at that poise! That drama!

One thing led to another, in the late 90's and early 20's I collected Werewolf: The Apocalypse RPG sourcebooks. Eventually got damn near every book in my collection. Bought the Glaive. The mug. The hat. The necklace (still wear it). The novels. Chased down Rage CCG cards at comic shops throughout the Golden Horseshoe.

Funded the Kickstarter for the 20th anniversary reprint/master edition, even went in for the limited metal plate cover version.

Still have never played a single game of it.

Lamented at the lack of GOOD werewolf movies. Dog Soldiers (2002) and Van Hellsing (2004) are about the only ones I'll accept stylistically. But I'm just picky.

So back to WEM. There's this little dude. Smiling up at my with his badass 90's skater boy getup. My hyper fixation locked in. I spent the night looking up Build-A-Bear online. Turned out he was last year's special, so these must just be extra shells kicking around.

There was some sort of sale on. Buy one, get one (equal or lesser value) 10$. Shit. How could I not. I found the PERFECT critter for Garwik. The next day, I returned.

I was nervous, at first, was it weird? A grown person getting a custom stuffed animal? And then I overheard another dude sheepishly admitting to the cashier that the one he'd made was for himself. He'd got one for his nephew and liked it so much he wanted one too. Awww.

Okay so, maybe a little weird, but apparently not uncommon.

The cheerful staff member picked up the unstuffed shells I pointed out, and with me manning the air blower and her working the body around, we socially distanced assembled the plushies. In go the hearts. In go the optional smell satchettes (vanilla in the head for my werewolf, bubblegum in the body for Garwik's monkey). Now to go pick accessories.

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

THIS is how they "get you". Sure, I was getting two foot tall plush animals for like 40 bucks total. But the outfits. The outfits.

8 bucks for a hat. 15 bucks for a pant/jacket set. 18 bucks for a Star Wars tie-in outfit. Boots. Things to hold. Glasses. Pants. Shirts. Accessories. Iiiiiii get it now.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

So while I'm Hrmming and Hawwwwing about what top looks cool, a gaggle of young adults stumble past in the concourse.

"Build-A-Bear!" one of them exclaims loudly, slowing down. The other pause. A mixed gender group, I didn't take a headcount but about three guys and three gals. Mid-20's at the most.

"Lookit all the stuffed animals!" someone else says. At first they're making fun of it, but within seconds someone declares "We should all get one!" This idea is an immediate success. "Yah!" "We should!" "Let's all get one!" "Can we come in? Do we have time?"

It was 20 minutes to closing but the worker gamely let the young people past the social distancing barrier, and they swarmed the unstuffed body display, pointing out which ones they were going to get. She scooped up the decisions, moving the whole pack over to the stuffing blower, and had them operate the air as she filled their choices. The scent options ramped up the group's already palpable excitement.

As she offered the first plushie to the owner for a squish test, and then flipped it around for the heart insertion, a decision was made. "No, we're gonna put the hearts in all at the same time!" This might have surprised the employee, but she laughed and went along with it. Several nearly completed bodies later, she had them each choose a heart and instructed them each to hug it. And then. Rub it on their hearts. And then rub it on their heads! Now rub it on their toes!

I'm cashing out while all this was going on behind me. It was complete goofery. The enthusiasm of the worker was the same cheerful joyous supportive silliness as a camp counselor leading a group of six year olds in a game. And these young men and women were LOVING it. They did every ridiculous maneuver they were instructed, laughing at the 'childishness' of it all, but not a one complaining, or calling it stupid.

I don't know why, but that incident made me unbelievably happy.

I think, too often, people are so stressed to 'grow up' and 'act your age', that they forget how much fun it can be to just. Enjoy silly things. To spin in a circle and rub a cloth heart on your tummy. To buy a stuffed animal with your best friends.

I wish them all the best.

[themaskedwriter]

Fairytale Symbiosis (with a side of world domination, of course)

Platonic! Eddie Brock x reader, martial arts! Reader (who, for story purposes is short and a teenager.)

Warnings: swearing, body horror (a bit, pretty mild), symbiotes, martial arts, imprisonment, carnivores, inappropriate humor, basically anything from the movie Venom will apply here. VENOM SPOILERS

Synopsis: Y/N has always hated the entitled, world-destroying, no-soul types- and Carlton Drake fits that description perfectly. Naturally she sneaks into his lab intending to do some damage, but gets much more than she bargained for. This isn’t a war she can sit out of, not when world domination is at stake, so helping Eddie and Venom is the natural choice…for her. Her symbiote, however, may have other ideas.

CLUE: If adorable symbiote fluff isn’t what you’re looking for, I dabble in plenty of other fandoms- my blog is a pretty creative mix of many things, including my animals- one of which is referenced quite often in this little fic (little, by my standards, that is.)

word count: 2607. will probably be continued on my account, once revealed.

–

A Host. It needs a host- badly.

The containment tank walls are as bare as usual as it paces back and forth, sliding along the substance, slamming against it every few seconds. It’s hard to breathe in there: hard without a host.

Homeless, the Drake man calls them- the hosts he brings as offerings. Their fear when it takes over is palpable. The emotion leaves a taste in its mouth that drives it to the brink, but just as it thinks it will be satisfied, the body dies. The host dies. None of them have the fight in them that it requires.

“Open it.” Carlton orders as the newest prospect finally looks at it.

It slides out, creeping toward the human, the pheromones in the air enticing, empowering, delicious-

The back door to the lab slams open, admitting four security guards holding a girl between them.

It doesn’t look, just slips up the smooth cloth of the man’s pants. Beneath it, the human quivers in fear. It wishes it could drool…soon, soon, but the fear- the fear is so palatable, so tangible…

A shout. It pauses, looks.

The girl moves so fast the other humans have no chance, but to its trained eyes…

Jiu-jitsu, itthinks, karate, muy-thai, as the girl wraps her legs around the neck of one security guard, using her body to flip him onto the floor. Blood spurts as his head slams into the ground, but she’s unaffected, already moving. The second security guards’ arm breaks under her touch before the third shoots a taser into her back. Can’t be more than a youth, itthinks, noting the height and weight differences between her and the others. Not ideal…but that attitude, that skill…useful.

It absorbs into the host offered to him as the girl drops to her knees, fighting through the electricity to rip the taser cords from her back. Flesh is ripped as well, but she screams and throws a punch.

“Why did you bring her here?” Carlton Drake demands, watching the girl as she tries to get up on legs that waver. She glares daggers at him, spitting blood. He does not bother to flinch, doesn’t even smile when she’s physically restrained by the guards- who are more careful this time.

“We found her sneaking through the containment area, sir.” One says. He gives the girl a solid shake.

“I’m lost,” she growls, spitting blood once more. “Dunno how I got here. Dunno where here is.”

It can smell her lie. She knows exactly where she is.

“Kill her.” Drake commands, turning back to his experiment- to them.

“I want her.” Chaos snarls, its body and the humans’ flickering back and forth. Even as the body fails, even as it drops to the floor and the klyntar steps out of the crumpled skin, it watches her.

She hides her fear well.

Drake jerks his head and it’s done- she is dragged, incapacitated, into what it’s come to consider its cell, then thrown to her knees before it.

Chaos pulls itself up before her as the door closes, watching her body shake. She stares defiantly back at it, her fists clenched.

For a second, girl and symbiote watch each other. Drake, on the other side of the glass-like material, seems perplexed. Chaos, however, almost can’t do it.

As much as it’s always been the perfect soldier, even it has limits- and it can’t help but to think this girl is too pure for it, too innocent, too young. After all, where it comes from, the young are prized above all. it doesn’t want to take her if she doesn’t want to be taken. Her fear is unlike anything it’s ever smelled; it’s tinged with anger and resilience.

But it can’t wait any longer, it’s already gone too long without a functioning host, not some drugged-up addict whose body was bordering on death even without the klyntar.

Chaos, the largest and most deadly of the symbiotes, touches the girls’ hand gently at first, sliding from her fingers to her palm, up her wrist and forearm, to her bicep. She quivers, breathing hard and fast, but she does not scream. I do not want to hurt you, it whispers against her mind; she jerks at first, eyes widening in surprise. it can sense her thoughts going a million miles a second- she knows there is no fighting, but she has not given up. She’s already thinking of revenge. I do not want to do this without…how do you say? Permission.

Her quivering stops. Confusion replaces fear as it gives her a vision of what they can achieve together- it can already sense that she’s a perfect match- perfect as if born to it.

“No one has even asked before.” She murmurs, eyes darting up to Drake, who watches with fascination as Chaos curls around her arm. She takes a deep breath, lets it out through her teeth. Her gaze remains locked on Drake as she consents- then as Chaos slips into her body like a glove.

She screams in rage, its voice echoing hers as they fuse, symbiote and host, one.

“Chaos,” it growls through her mouth. “I am Chaos.”

Drake’s eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning, watching as Chaos envelops its new host, its perfect host. Her body, small but wrapped and corded in muscle, disappears under it as it takes over, protecting and defending her.

What now? She asks it.

Now we bond. Itreplies to her and her only, receding into her chest. Now we plan.

–

HUNGRY. it snarls, angry at everything. Caged…caged like a beast. Caged like a dog. Not a dog. NOT A DOG.

“Chaos,” you murmur, eyes closed as you meditate, “not helping.” Then, to the space between your minds, I’ve been caged too, remember? We will get out. We will get out of here and leave this place behind us, forever.

It goes eerily quiet.

What aren’t you telling me? It’s been three days, three long days since you were thrown into the cell, since scientists have started poking and prodding at you, watching you around the clock, monitoring your vitals. You feel like a lab rat and being so damn close to Carlton Drake isn’t helping; you’re within strangling range if you could just get out of there.

We will eat him first. Chaos says, dodging your question. You sigh. It’s always the same with it.

What happened to no secrets? You ask the klyntar -whose species had been revealed to you during a long, boring night- as it wraps around you, manifesting in coils like a snake.

This, itreplies, a hint of sadness to its gravelly voice, this I cannot tell you.

Outside of your cell, there’s movement. Drake.

Riot. Chaos growls, perking up.

“Let them out.” Drake commands. His words as their law, the scientist standing beside him does as asked and opens the door. You stand, Chaos guiding your movements as you stand before him. Your fingers twitch to be around his throat, the backstabbing, murdering, all around awful person- but Chaos recognizes the one it’s been trained to follow all of its life and so it holds you back.

Drake’s smirk makes Chaos’ control falter. “Hungry?” he asks, gesturing to the homeless man down the hall, oblivious to the conversation.

Chaos smiles, but you don’t. we can’t eat him, he’s innocent.

He’s food.

You thought I was food when you first saw me. Now we’re besties.

Silence. Then, we must do as Riot commands.

So you take orders from it without question? I thought you weren’t a dog.

It snarls, puffing up at your comment. I was born and bred to obey him.

You are your own being. No one can control you.

A pause. Isn’t that what you are trying to do, little human?

I am trying to help you. It’s not exactly easy.

It scans your mind, finding images of the unfortunate, the kids made homeless because of their sexuality, their gender identity, because of circumstances out of their control. It sees your own struggles, the perseverance. For a second, it thinks of how easily you accepted its pronouns, the tiny nuance to the English language it had deemed very important, thinks of your banter, your acceptance of another species in your body. It sees your drive, and something in the symbiote is moved by it.

You’re making me soft. Itmurmurs to you.

I’m giving you a conscience.

We must do whatever it takes to get out of here.

…fine. But I don’t have to like it.

It walks your body over to the homeless man, lets the human underestimate you. Lets him think you’re not a threat. Then it takes over, swiftly killing the human before it can feel any pain.

Compromise, it thinks, knowing Riot will never be able to tell the difference and wondering when exactly it became your protector instead of its leaders’. An ideal shift of that magnitude couldn’t’ve happened without notice, surely, except it did. And it cannot be bothered to care.

– Your chance comes quite quickly; with both Riot and Drake believing that Chaos is in control of you instead of just inhabiting your body, you are given all of the freedoms that the symbiote had on its home planet- and while you know you won’t have a chance at killing Drake, Chaos assures you that Venom (who recently escaped, hence the added security in the form of you,) would do quite nicely as a distraction. With its display of blatant disregard, Chaos was beginning to wonder if Riot’s concerns were, in the end, based in truth. Were the humans truly a dangerous species, despite all of the klyntar blustering? It curls inside your chest, a seething biomass, slowly learning your internal functions the same way it learned from the other hosts- the ones whose bodies attacked it at first contact- and it thinks that maybe, just maybe, humans may be worth saving.

Atleast one of them is.

Chaos keeps guard as you walk out of the front door of Carlton Drake’s building, unmolested by the guards who’d only recently thrown you into a cell. It watches, silently, bristling at every new sound, until you are blocks away.

“We made it,” you whisper as you stop, leaning against the brick façade of a building a mile from the lab.

We, Chaos murmurs questioningly, so quiet that you can’t hear. It wonders at the feeling in what would be its chest. We.

And just like that, you have the undying loyalty of a klyntar.

To your habitat then? Chaos asks you, snaking over your arms under the black jacket you wore. It coils around your wrists, squeezing gently before absorbing back into your skin.

You snicker. “It’s called a home, silly, but yes. Home.” For a second you walk toward your small loft apartment, but your steps quickly falter. Chaos senses your sudden apprehension.

We will pack what you need and leave, they will know where you live. We cannot stay long.

So you don’t stay.

–

Eddie Brock, once a journalist, is used to people thinking he’s insane. At least borderline. But he’s never been insane like this- looking over his shoulder every two seconds, knowing that Venom is right there, feeling the symbiote in his every blood vessel, every pore. It’s like tripping on acid, the feeling of the black sludge all over and yet nowhere.

“Whose idea was it, huh?” Eddie growls, head twitching to the side as if he were talking to someone who isn’t there- the action gains him a few odd looks, but he doesn’t really care, stomping down the street anyway. “The kiss, I mean.”

Not important, Venom says. How are we going to stop Riot? He has things we’ve never seen-

“Not my problem, V, I told you I was done after all of that-“

World domination isn’t your problem?

Eddie growls, turning into a side alley that cuts through to the next street over. It’s a long alley, long enough to be creepy, but he’s got a symbiote. What do the criminals have, guns? Laughable. He’s never been afraid of dark alleys anyway, not truly. “You or Anne? It had to be someone. There are plenty of other ways to get-“He cuts himself off as a small, hooded figure steps out in front of him. Venom is assessing before Eddie can even blink. “Can I help you?” She’s standing square in the way, hands in her jeans pockets, hood shading her entire face.

Food? Venom asks.

“No- Eddie snaps. The girl doesn’t flinch.

“You’re the one who needs help, Eddie.” She finally says, looking up at him. “With your little problem.”

Normally, when someone says that to him, it means he’s got an awkward boner- so naturally he’s surprised for a second, frowning at her as she stands there like it’s perfectly natural to accuse someone of indecency. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say for a change, and Venom’s silence doesn’t really help. Finally, his mind catches up…somewhat. “What?” he splutters, walking quickly towards her. “Who are you?”

A few steps away, Venom breaks its silence.

Eddie, STOP.

And Eddie is pulled to a sudden halt, blinking at the unassuming teenager in front of him.

Venom envelops him in a heartbeat, leaving Eddie no time to protest the change. The girl, once again, doesn’t even blink- and that’s when Eddie understands. Riot? He asks his symbiote.

“Chaos.” Venom says to the small girl. “Why are you here?”

A grey-blue head manifests over her shoulder, staring up at Venom with those opalescent white eyes they all share. It’s all fangs, white veins webbing over it like scars. Even still, Eddie can’t help but notice that it’s severely less ugly than Riot. But then he sees the girl who the head is connected to, and he wonders why he didn’t see her in the lab. She would’ve been hard to miss, simply because she looks like she’d beat the crap out of anyone who stood in her way, simply by the steely gaze.

“Venom.” Chaos greets the klyntar. “It seems we have both found a host.” It squints. “Did you pull yours out of the trash?”

To its credit, Venom only shrugs. “If you are here to insult me, you can leave. I am perfectly happy continuing to ignore you.”

Chaos grins, a feral grin that somehow speaks of bloodlust. “We are here to help you defeat Riot.”

Eddie, inside of Venom’s protective shell, can feel the shock that rolls through his symbiote. “You?” Venom asks, deforming into just a head, mirroring Chaos himself. “But you’re-“

“Was. I was Riot’s right hand.”

“Literally?” Eddie squeaks, picturing that monstrous right hand separating itself into a pile of goo-

Venom wants to believe Chaos, it really does, but its seen the other klyntar in action, and finds it rather hard to believe that it could turn on its leader so quickly.

“I could’ve killed you fourty-three different ways by now.” Chaos helpfully points out. “But I haven’t. Because we have a common goal.” It glances at its host, who raises her hand to stroke down its cheek. Something unbelievably like love passes over the grey biomass. “I’ve found something worth rebellion.”

“Alright.” Venom says, darting its tongue over sharp teeth. “Where do we start?”

–

Later, when everything is said and done and Eddie is finally somewhat alone on his couch, staring at the wall in quiet contemplation, he only has one thought.

He takes a sip of his well-earned beer and sits back.

“So she’s got one up her ass too.”

[mx-writer]

Thor Odinson x Reader

WARNING(S): adult content: cussing, slightly sexual content

You Should Know: I'm pretty positive this is far from accurate, but for how I want to write it, we'll just have to pretend. ;) Also, reader is gender neutral and pudgy or chubby in some form.

Prompt(s): The photo is on Wattpad. It was a silly Tumblr post that I absolutely love.

If these themes and ideas make you uncomfortable in anyway, you really do not have to read.

Thank you!

When Thor had first travelled to Earth, he had no idea what to expect. He never much cared for Earth growing up, but from what Loki had told him, his interest grew with his age. Now, as a fully-fledged adult, he decided to finally visit.

He felt lost on the mortal plain. He was never sure of where to go or what to do... but then there were the humans. The humans. They were all so, so very different from Asgardians. And the most apparent to Thor: body shapes.

He didn't know what it was, but he was very much attracted to... what was he attracted to?

Asgardians were so much slimmer, so very muscular... there were humans like that, but then there were the heavier ones, the "fat" ones. He viewed those people as more fluffy, or soft, or full, rather than "fat". It was strangely alluring. He even would admit unbashfully that he found those people beautiful.

Now, though, through all his years of experience on Earth, he had never met someone as gorgeous as you.

You had knocked him off his feet, and he has been in a haze ever since. He would go nearly braindead when near you. It was so obvious to everyone how much he adored you. First, he was enamored with your appearance - your soft, plump figure, the way you walk, how your chest and shoulders shake when you laugh, your soft eyes, your voice. Oh, he was so infatuated. The longer you stuck around, the more he got to know you, and he became smitten. This poor man was putty in your hands.

To even get into the Advengers tower, you had to make some friends. It had been your dream since you were young to at least set foot in the building. Luckily for you, those friends found you, rather than the other way around.

* * *

You had been in the library in downtown Brooklyn, and someone ran into your side, slamming you onto the floor. For a moment, you were stunned, frozen in shock. Slowly, you snapped back to reality as a hand gripped your shoulder.

You looked up to see a strong, good-looking man. And not just any man, but Captain America himself. You stared at him, wide-eyed. He was talking to you, but you couldn't comprehend what it was he was saying. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton.

You had watched as he grew even more concerned, turning to a man behind him. You recognized him too: Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Now they were both crouching down low to try and speak to you, to see if you're okay.

Finally, your brain kicks back on, and you blurt, "I'm sorry."

Rogers cracks a smile, "For what? I'm the one that ran you over."

You blink before huffing out a short, airy laugh, "Right."

"I'm sorry, we should've been more careful." He glanced over at Barnes, sending him a glare. Barnes looked back at him with an overly innocent look. This made a smile start to grow on your face.

"It's alright. Not like it's the first time I've fallen on my ass." That gets a chuckle out of Barnes. You move to stand, but then you feel a burning sensation in your hips and butt. You huff.

"Here, let me help you up." Rogers stands, offering his hand.

You nod, reaching for it, "Thanks, Captain." He pulls you up so harshly, which makes you yelp.

He grabs for your shoulders so you don't fall over again. You laugh, "Damn, you're really strong."

He takes a couple steps back, rubbing at his neck, "Yeah, sorry about that."

You shake your head, "Nah, it's alright." He brush yourself off, turning to look back at the shelf you were digging through a few moments ago.

"I'd like to formally apologize for Stevie's clumsiness," Barnes speaks up, clapping Rogers's back pretty hard. You turn your attention back to them, noticing a deadpanned expression on Rogers's face, "Let me buy you a coffee or something."

You stared at the two for a moment, "Yeah?" You shrug, "That'd be great."

Barnes smiles at you, holding his hand out to you, "I'm Bucky, and this is Steve." He nods his head to the man beside him.

You shake his hand, "Nice to meet you guys. I'm __________." You shake Steve's hand, too, "To be completely honest, I'm a big fan of yours. There's no way I'm passing up the opportunity to grab some grub with a couple of heroes."

Buckly chuckles, looking to Steve, "Well isn't that somethin'?"

Steve rolls his eyes before turning towards the door, "Anywhere in particular you like?"

You grin, heading for the door, "Yep! It's not far from here. Follow me, boys."

They let you lead the way as you walk nearly two blocks to a cute little cafe that you frequented. You held out your arm, presenting the building to the two men, "Kaffe Och Te!*"

Steve tilts his head up at the sign above the door. The place looked pretty new. Through the large windows, he could see that everything was tastefully decorated and accented with blue and yellow. It was really inviting.

Once you guys were in and settled at a table, they were both pretty amazed by the Swedish theme, the waiters even wearing traditional folk dresses or trousers. Once the three of you got to talking, you really hit it off.

* * *

You plopped down at your in your desk chair, flipping through some folders and neatening up the papers inside. Ms. Potts was a great boss, but she could get pretty overbearing sometimes. You were grateful for the little bit of work you had today. She was always a bit looser and lenient with work after an Advengers mission. You usually did grunt work, but it was never all that boring.

A knock comes from the door, and Steve walks in. You smile at him, noticing that he brought you bag of chips and a bottle of water. Thank God you had the captain on your side.

"Thank you so much, Steve." You sigh, taking the snack and drink.

He smiled, "Anytime."

You look up at him, glancing him over, "You healing up nicely?"

He nodded, "Yeah, but the stitches in my shoulder really itch."

You stand, moving his sleeve up a bit to look at the wrappings, "Make sure to keep it clean and always put the ointment on it."

He pats your shoulder, "I always do. You know that."

You laughed, moving to put things away it drawers and in neat stacks, "Where is everyone?"

"For the most part, in the common room. Tony's still in the lab."

"Still?" You groan, "It's nearly been three days!"

He sighed, "I've been trying to drag him out of there. Pepper, too. But you can try if you want."

You hum, brows furrowed, "FRIDAY, get Tony out of his lab, pronto."

"Of course, (Ms./Mr./Mx.) __________." she responds.

You sigh, looking down at yourself. You liked to look professional here, even though both Tony and Pepper have told you that you don't need to. Now, after these long, hard past few weeks, you're starting to regret not wearing something more comfortable.

"I should start bringing some casual wear, shouldn't I?" You hummed, looking back up to Steve.

He chuckles, "Everyone keeps tellin' you that."

You head for the door, opening it for him, "I might as well bring my whole wardrobe here."

He steps out of the office, shrugging, "You might as well live here." That made you stop in your tracks, "I mean, you practically already do, with how much time you spend here. Hell, you've slept here so many times."

You're tense, "I - " you try to think of what to say, "I couldn't do that. Yeah, sure, I'm here a lot, but there really isn't any point to living here. I-I just work here, I'm nothing as important as you guys, and I - " you huff, stammering.

He looks to you, confused, "You're one of the very few that work here that isn't an Advenger. And you're really important. Your job may not be the most significant and earth-shattering thing, but you, yourself, are important to us as a team, as your friends."

You sigh, "I couldn't ask that of Tony. It's his tower, it's his business. He and Pepper are the big bosses around here. I couldn't just ask to move in, no matter how gigantic this place is."

He frowns, "If you insist."

You hurt to the elevator, Steve not far behind.

Once you're down in the lounge, you smile and wave to everyone. Some didn't notice you, like Thor and Bruce, who were talking amongst themselves. Clint waved to you before joining them. They seemed to be having a good time, laughing with each other.

You plop down next to Bucky, "Hey, man."

"Hey, __________!" He throws his arm around your shoulders, glancing behind you for a moment, "How was work?"

You smiled, shrugging, "Pepper didn't give me much to do today, so I mainly just fiddled around for a bit after filing some stuff away for her."

"You should've come down here, if you were so bored."

You shrugged again, "I don't know. It was actually kinda nice to laze about for a few hours." You looked down at your lap, "Though, I do wish I would just start bringing some comfy clothes around."

"You wanna borrow some?"

You blinked at him, "Borrow some clothes? From you?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, I don't see why not."

You frowned at him. You whispered to him, not wanting to embarrass yourself, "I doubt anything you've got will fit me."

He rolled his eyes, whispering back, "You can at least try. I have some really comfy, baggy stuff you can try on."

You sighed, giving in, "Alright. But just this once. I'm bringing my own tomorrow."

He nodded, pulling you up, off the couch with him, "Alrighty!"

He marched you to his level, tossing you some sweats and a tee. He let you have his room to yourself to get changed. To your surprise, they fit you okay. The pants cling a bit more to your thighs than you would like, but they were really comfy. You grab your clothes that you have folded into a pile to carry them around better, stepping back out of the room, barefoot.

"See? They fit fine!"

You nod, "Yeah, thanks, Buck. These are so much more comfortable."

When the two of you got back to the lounge and you took a seat, you felt like you were going to melt into the sofa. So much better.

After a little while of talking to Steve, Bucky, and Natasha, a grumpy, sluggish Tony waltzed into the room.

"FRIDAY locked me out of the lab, and I know it was one of you who did it." he accused, pointing around the room.

Bruce walked over, handing him a steaming mug, "Either you sit down or we carry you up and lock you in your room until you get some sleep."

Tony groans, sipping from his cup, just accepting it and sitting down in a chair.

Bruce sits next to me, leaning over to whisper, "Finally got sick of it?"

"Yup." You nudged him, "Decaf?"

"You betcha."

You gave him a big, warm smile, "It's like we're all raising a child. He cannot, for the life of him, take care of himself."

He chuckled, "Yeah, but a lot of us are guilty of that, too."

You nodded, tilting your head, "Not as bad as him, though. I swear, if we all up and left for a week, he'd probably have died of exhaustion or overdosing on coffee."

He didn't say anything, but you know he agrees.

You yawn, standing from the seat. You'd been there with everyone for much longer than you intended, "I really should get home."

Tony stands with you. He's been half asleep for the past couple hours, and you're hoping he's finally heading to bed.

"Alrighty, (his stupid nickname for you)." He nudged your arm with his elbow, "Come back soon, ya hear?"

"Pfft," you laugh lightly, "it's not like I work here or anything."

He grinned, walking past you - and smacking your ass on the way.

You yelp, and go to say something, but end up not doing so. The result was a loud smack that rang through the room. Steve and Bucky were silent, sitting on the couch next to you. Bruce and Nat glanced over at each other.

Red-faced, you grab your things, "I... I'm gonna head out. It was really fun hanging out with you guys."

Someone abruptly stands, their chair sliding back and slamming against the wall. You jump, turning to see it was Thor.

"Allow me to walk you out." He smiled at you. It was his usual, friendly smile, but there seemed to be some tenseness to it. You brushed it off as your imagination.

You smile back to him, "Okay!" You wave to the others, following Thor to the main elevator, "See you guys tomorrow!"

You yawn as the elevator doors close. You turn to the man standing next to you only to see his eyes burning holes through your own. He quickly turned, his face reddening.

You tilt your head at him, "You alright over there?"

He nodded, "Yes, of course."

You lean against the glass of the elevator, "You sure? You're a bit off. You have been all night." You cross your arms over your chest.

"__________, I'm alright. I'm just..." he trailed, "tired. As you are."

You smiled, "Okay. Now, if you ever are not okay, don't feel ashamed or anything to say anything to me. I've had plenty bad days, myself."

He looks back to you, glancing you over. His stare was growing more intense and his jaw noticeably clenched.

"Thor?" You stepped towards him, concerned.

He took a deep breath before harshly shoving you back up against the glass.

You gasp, eyes bugging. You couldn't breathe, let alone speak.

"I would never be so forward, but you are driving me insane." He huffs out, eyes glancing back and forth between your own.

"Y-Yeah?" Was all you could manage. You didn't know what to say. Your mind was so overloaded at this moment.

"Yes. Very much so." He continued to stand there, staring intensely at you, hands on either side of your head.

A few minutes pass.

Then another few...

Then the elevator dings. But you both just continue to stand there and stare at one another.

And the elevator doors close. And now you're just standing there even longer.

You decide to finally say something, "Thor?"

That seems to snap him out of whatever world he disappeared to. He slowly backs away from you. The motion makes the doors reopen.

He nods to you, "Have a good evening, __________."

You stay a moment longer, blinks up at him.

"Yeah... yeah, you too." And you leave.

The next day, you're wearing much more comfortable clothes, and they are your own. You return Bucky's, and set to work. Afterwards, you find yourself in the common room again, speaking and joking along with everyone else. However, something is off. Very off.

You look around, though you aren't sure about what you're searching for. Suddenly, it clicks: Thor isn't there. He's always there. He's loud and boisterous and lovely - but he isn't there. You can't help but feel that it was because of yesterday.

You sigh.

Steve picks up on that easily, noticing how distracted and uncomfortable you appear to be. He nudges you, "Did you sleep alright?"

You nod, leaning into his side, "Yeah."

He paused, "Something happen with Pepper?"

You shake your head, "Nope."

His brows furrow, "__________, are you alright?"

Bruce joins the two of you, sitting on the other side of you.

"Where's Thor?" You ask.

This really grabs both of the men's attention. Bruce smiles softly, glancing over at Steve.

"I'm not sure. Maybe he's training or in Asgard." Steve shrugs.

Your lips pinch into a flat line, "He's always in here with us, though."

Bruce leans forward, elbows on knees, "Yeah, he normally is. And he always tells us before he returns to Asgard. It's really out-of-character for him to just go missing."

You groan, mumbling, "It's probably because of last night."

"What?" Steve was obviously confused, "What happened last night?"

You fidget around in your seat, growing a bit embarrassed, "Well, you know how he walked me out last night?"

They both glance at each other before nodding.

"Well, he was acting really weird," you pause, "and he sorta pinned me to the wall? And said that I was driving him insane?"

Bruce's voice grew a bit excited, strangely, "Yeah? Did he say anything else?"

You shake your head, sighing, "We just stood there and stared until he let me go and I went home."

Bruce's smile dropped and he grunted. Under his breath, you could hear a faint "Coward."

"I mean, what was that about? What did he even mean?" You rubbed at your neck, "He's never acted like that or said anything like that before. It was actually kinda scary... And hot."

Steve choked, "What?"

You hadn't even realized what you said until now. Your face immediately heated up. Bruce and Steve both just laughed at you.

"Don't laugh! I didn't mean to say that out loud!"

"So you think Thor is hot, huh?" And now Tony was in on the conversation.

You snapped your glare to him, "Goddammit, Tony!"

"(She/He/They) aren't denying it, guys." He then cocked his head, "Hey, FRIDAY, looks like something is finally going down here."

She doesn't respond, but you're growing angry and embarrassed, "Tony! Just - just - shut up." You huff, standing. Then you remind yourself: You're an adult, __________. Grow up. Grow a pair. You're a fucking adult.

You turn and smile at the three of them, "Yeah. I'm attracted to him. He's an attractive guy. I mean, you all are too. Everyone on the team is hot."

"As much as I want to accept your compliment, __________, we're focused on Point Break here."

You roll your eyes, "I'm an adult. I can like other adults. I just so happen to find this one particular adult hot. Sue me."

Tony only smirks at you.

"Ha, ha. I get it. You'd bury me." You feel lighter, and you give him a big smile.

"Speak of the devil." Tony pointed out the window, at the balcony. Thor was standing there, leaning on the railing. He looked impatient.

You hummed, heading in his direction, "I'm gonna go see what's up with him. I'll be back soon."

You step out onto the balcony, the sounds of your footsteps and the door opening caused him to quickly turn towards you. His cheeks darken.

"Ah, __________. It's... nice to see you."

"Hey." You walk over to him, leaning on the railing with him. The height made you a bit nervous, but you tried to stay focused on Thor.

"What are you doing out here? I was told to meet Tony here."

"Yeah?" You turn to look through the glass at said man, "I think he was just luring you out from your hiding place."

He remained silent.

"I had just realized something," you start, "You were acting really weird last night. I don't want to get my hopes up as to why - I just want to hear you say what you meant by all of that."

He hummed, rubbing at his neck, "I am a child when it comes to these things. It's hard to act like an adult when you're so..."

You waited for him to finish, and it took him a minute.

"... taken with someone."

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Yes."

"Last night, you had said that I was driving you insane." You tilt your head at him, "Define insane."

He grunted, turning away from you.

You huffed, smiling at his back, "Now that I think about it, you're quite obvious. And I was extremely oblivious." You laugh.

A few moments pass.

And then another few...

And you're back in that elevator again.

"Now you're the one driving me insane."

This at least gets him to chuckle and turn back to you.

You wait for him to speak.

"I'm sorry." He steps forward, "You've really caught my eye. And I can't seem to shake that."

You shake your head, offering him a smile, "It's not like I'm complaining."

His eyes seem to light up. He takes another step, "I've never known someone quite like you. It's strange, really."

"How so?"

He reaches his hand out, petting your cheek with his thumb, "It's unexplainable. You're just different. And I can't not think of you."

You smile, leaning into his hand and holding it to your face before he pulls it back, "You're a good man, Thor. And I've always admired you. But you've always been somewhat distant."

He smiles, "Yes, that was the foolish side of me. Now, however, I don't intend to miss my chance yet again."

You were nervous, but refused to back out of the situation, "So, to make sure we're on the same page, you've been eye-fucking me this whole time?"

He immediately tensed, eyes bugging out. You gripped onto his arms to keep yourself from falling - you were laughing too hard.

He was frozen in place, face beat-red.

"O-Oh my God, I'm - " you try to calm yourself, "I'm sorry, but - " you're shaking, "Fuck, you should've seen your face - !"

Soon enough, he joined you, and it took quite a while for either of you to settle down.

You wiped at your eyes where tears hand formed. You were breathing heavily. You smiled up at him, and, suddenly, you were back in the elevator again.

He pinned you up against the railing, "If you wish to run, do so now."

You blinked, then sighed, "Why would I run?" You give him a big, toothy grin.

This only egged him on, and then he was leaning forward.

Your hands had a gentle grip on the front of his shirt as he kissed you. His hot breath blew out of his nose and across your cheeks.

You melted, pushing against him.

And, suddenly, his lips were gone.

You opened your eyes to see a red-faced Thor with a goofy grin on his face.

You laughed, gripping onto the back of his neck to bring him back to you. You silently wished for him to pull you up and wrap you legs around his waist... but then you remembered that you're a billion stories above the ground, and in full view of your friends inside.

You giggled into the kiss, pressing up against him.

He groans, pulling back for a moment. This time, he really did look like he was eye-fucking you. But you kept that thought to yourself.

"Can I call you mine now?" He chuckled, kissing your temple.

Oh, God, yes. "I was always yours." You send him a wink.

He laughs, wrapping you up in a big hug. You hug him back happily.

You plopped down on the couch. The lounge was empty. Everyone was doing their own thing. You were actually pretty grateful for the silence; it was nice.

Footsteps sounded from behind you. You didn't pay it much mind until arms wrapped around you. You smiled, "Hey."

"Hey." Came his deep-voiced reply, "Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not." He kissed the top of your head before walking around the sofa to sit next to you.

You leaned into his side, smiling up at him, "You're as radiant as ever."

He smiled back, "Only with you, love."

Your face warmed up a bit. You still weren't used to his pet names.

You changed the subject, "Pepper's starting to get back to her strict self. She's a good boss, but - damn - she can be scary sometimes."

He chuckled, but it didn't seem like he was paying too much attention to what you were saying.

"Soon, I'll be stacked with work. Stacks of papers, trips up and down the whole damn building, being put back on babysitting duty."

He cupped your cheek, "Sounds like you'll be busy." His eyes were distant as they bore into yours.

"Yeah..." you trailed.

Then he was kissing you.

And you were in his lap, straddling his thighs.

And his hands were heavy weights pressed against the bottom of your spine.

And your fingers were tangled in his hair.

And he moaned into your mouth. You were done for. You tugged lightly on his hair, pressing your chest to his. This earned another groan.

His hands traveled a bit lower, but he hesitated and put them back where they were.

You panted, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. Slowly, you reached back with one hand to grip one of his and slide it down to cup your ass.

You smiled at him, resuming the kiss. He obliged, gripping at your rear and further pushing you against him.

This time, you were the one to moan, and, in a split second, you were pinned to the cushions, him hovering above you. He roughly pulled your legs back to wrap them around his hips, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck. He was rewarded with more lovely noises leaving your throat.

Your ran your hands down his sides, slipping them up under his shirt a little ways.

He kissed the side of your neck, right where your rapid pulse was most noticeable. He pulled back to look down at you, you both lightly panting and flushed red.

You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.

Nothing could be better than this.

*Coffee And Tea

I'm really sorry if I butchered the Swedish above. If I did anything wrong, please correct me!

This... was supposed to be quick and funny and fluffy. I don't know what happened. Still, I hope you enjoyed! Also, sorry about the lame ending; I wasn't sure how to end this. If you want a continuation and maybe some smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) , let me know.

[strangerthanfiction]

and it's wrong, wrong, wrong            (but we'll do it anyway 'cos we love a bit of trouble)

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

“i don’t want to be just a nothing, a sick blank, withdrawal into myself forever. i just want something, beside the emptiness i’ve carried around in me all my life.” –– allen ginsburg

“a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it into the river                but then he’s still left    with the river. a man takes his sadness and throws it away                                            but then he’s still left with his hands.” –– richard siken

"i was not a lovable child, and i'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.” –– gillian flynn

“you will always be fond of me. i represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” –– oscar wilde

“power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.” –– george orwell

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Rabastan Edric Lestrange NICKNAMES: “Rab” by most, “Bash” by those who know him best, “Eddy” by his grandparents AGE: Twenty-six BIRTHDAY: April 13th, 1954 GENDER: Male, cisgender PRONOUNS: He/him/his

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Sabine Lestrange (nee Avery) (52) FATHER: Gaspard Lestrange (48) SIBLINGS: Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange (sister-in-law), Narcissa Lestrange (sister-in-law), Lucius Malfoy (brother-in-law), Andromeda Tonks (sister-in-law)

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Penn Badgley BUILD: Fit, muscular, and clearly works at maintaining it. Wishes he was taller always. HAIR: Longer than it should be, according to his mother, growing out of the buzz cut he got in November, thick and wavy. He’s also sporting stubble that’s quickly turning into a beard. HAIR COLOR: Dark brown, almost black EYE COLOR: Hazel on a normal day, amber on a sunny day, murky brown on a cloudy day SKIN COLOR: Pale, thin and translucent, like parchment. Anyone can see when he’s hungover or had a shitty night of sleep because his eyes look hollow and the skin underneath it looks almost purple. DOMINANT HAND: Right ANOMALIES:

TATTOOS: The Dark Mark on the inside of his right arm, a sketch of the sculpture of Laocoon and His Sons sketched out from the top of his left rib cage to his hip, the first lines of the Iliad on his collar bone, stretching from his left shoulder to his right shoulder, a stick and poke of a muggle ghost on the inside of his ankle, and, perhaps his favorite of them all, the word “TERROR” on the inside of his bottom lip. He charmed it so that, any time he flips his bottom lip out at the world to show the tattoo, the letters pop out in a magical version of a jump scare.

SCARS: His elbows and knees are shredded up from years of Quidditch and not following proper rules when it comes to healing potions. He’s got the slightest scar in his left eyebrow from falling off his broom when he was nine. Plus, he’s got the scrapes and scars of a fighter, a soldier, and he wears his ragged skin with the brashness and boldness of someone unafraid of battle.

SCENT: Tobacco, crisp linen, and, if he’s getting all dolled up, he puts just the tiniest dab of amortentia at his throat, because, well, “then I always smell good.” ACCENT: RP because his mother wouldn’t have her children sounding like scoundrels. But his Northern accent slips out every now and again when he’s particularly hammered. ALLERGIES: Bees. DISORDERS: Rapidly developing alcoholism. Slowly developing PTSD. FASHION: Punk but make it pureblood. Lots of silver rings with huge gemstones inset or crests carved into the metal. Amazing shoes always – be it chunky black combat boots, beautiful leather loafers, or the occasional (slightly) healed Chelsea boot. Skinny jeans and slouchy hoodies on his days alone in Manchester. Pressed shirts rolled up to the elbows and perfectly fitted trousers on his days at Lestrange Manor. His favorite robes are black velvet, with a gold clasp across the chest in the shape of a skull. And, of course, his clubbing outfits. Leather, mesh, crop tops (yes, Rab wears crop tops, and no, none of you will ever see it because he’s CAREFUL heh), muscle tanks, and the odd denim shorterall (with nothing underneath) moment. NERVOUS TICS: He used to bite his fingernails as a kid, but the nannies spanked that out of him. His oral fixation has been replaced with cigarettes – any slight bit of tension, and he’s lighting up. QUIRKS: He doesn’t know how to sit normally in a chair because he’s gay.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Lestrange Manor 75% of the time. His own flat in Manchester 25% of the time. BORN: In France, while his parents were on holiday. He wasn’t supposed to be due for another three weeks, but his mother’s water broke while she was on the beach, and Rabastan was born five hours later. RAISED: In Yorkshire, with every other summer abroad (France most years, but sometimes Italy or Spain, and one very special year, Norway), until he went to Hogwarts. PETS: Gunther, a black Great Dane, who lives at Lestrange Manor, and technically is both his and Rodolphus’ – their mother got the dog for them as a means to help them bond, but really, Gunther is Rabastan’s and only gets attention from Rodolphus when their mother is around, so as not to offend her. And, in Rabastan’s eyes, but probably not in the eyes of other, more progressive individuals, Iphigenia, the Lestrange family house elf.

CAREER: Spending the Lestrange fortune. Being a Death Eater. EXPERIENCE: He’s been doing it his whole life. Nine years. Since his final year at Hogwarts. EMPLOYER: Voldemort.

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: The Death Eaters / Pureblood values. BELIEFS: Purebloods created this world, and now it’s their time to defend it. The Dark Lord is the only one capable of leading them to victory, and the purpose of men like Rabastan is to give him the aid he needs, no matter the personal cost. MISDEMEANORS: Truancy, defacing Hogwarts property, breaking curfew, bullying, tardiness, breaking dress code, and infinite more. He was never quiet about his rebellions, always laughing in the face of authority. And, now that he’s no longer at school, there’s nothing he can’t buy himself out of. FELONIES: Well. He’s killed more than a few people and gotten away with it, so. You do the math from there. DRUGS: Rabastan likes muggle drugs a little too much. Cocaine, particularly. He’s also been known to dabble in expensive, experimental potions from an alchemist the Lestranges have been using to cure their every ail and malady since Rabastan was a boy. SMOKES: Religiously. He started because every young boy wants to be just like their father at one point or another, and then he just never stopped. ALCOHOL: Rabastan’s rarely without a drink in his hand. It’s a glass of brandy as soon as he comes home, flask of whisky constantly at his hip, a Bloody Mary and some pepper up potion to eliminate his hangover first thing when he wakes up. It’s not a problem, he can stop at any point, or so he says. He learned how to be a functional alcoholic from all of the men he observed around him at a young age, and he’s found a very specific line – enough to feel gently numb, to feel invincible, but not so much that he’s incapacitated. And more and more, in recent months, especially since the disappearance of his brother, has he crossed that line. He’ll go through spurts of detoxing, of getting painfully sober for a few days, and then, he’ll be so overwhelmed by the world around him, by how loud it is, by how unforgiving, by how painful it can be, and then he’s right back where he was, with a bottle in one hand and a bump on the back of the other. DIET: Rabastan eats extremely well. Mostly vegetarian, except for fish, lots of legumes and greens, lots of fiber, etc. He knows how much crap he puts into his body, and while he doesn’t particularly care about the fact that he’s shortening his life, he does care about what it does to his physique. And, of course, the trade off is never going to be equal, but he does try to eat as cleanly as he can.

LANGUAGES: English, French, German, and self-taught Latin

PHOBIAS: If you asked him, he’d say he has none. And that’s mostly true. But there isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t think about getting outed to his family and then being banished by the Lestranges for his deviant behavior, and there isn’t a day that goes by where the very thought is enough to turn his blood to ice. HOBBIES: Drinking, fighting, fucking. When he’s not indulging his vices, he’s actually quite a scholar – he’s read through every book in his father’s study twice, and he taught himself Latin when he was thirteen. He also loves flying and still takes to a broomstick when he needs to clear his head. He’s also surprisingly adept at tending to plants (he effortlessly got O’s in Herbology his whole time at Hogwarts), and he’s got a lovely, melodic voice.  TRAITS: { + }: Quick-thinking, fierce, loyal, playful { - }: Reckless, vulgar, lazy, submissive

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: Spiny Serpent, specifically the secret fight club in the basement. It’s his favorite place in the world, the one place where he actually feels alive and free. He’ll heal all of his visible injuries with magic, but sometimes, he’ll leave a bruised rib or a tweaked knee because the pain of it reminds him that he’s alive, he’s present, he’s real. SPORTS TEAM: Wimbourne Wasps (and United ever since he started living in Manchester, but he’d rather be caught dead than admit to following the muggle Premiere league) GAME: Quidditch and he’s trying to start his own Swivenhodge league MUSIC: Much to his mother’s distaste, he’s an avid Hobgoblins fan, and his father begrudgingly took both his boys to meet Stubby when they were fifteen and eighteen respectively. Rab would never admit to listening to Celestina Warbeck, but after he’s had a few, he’s been known to do his own rendition of, “A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love” MOVIES: Too muggle. Absolutely not. (But he’d fucking love ALIEN if he knew it existed) FOOD: Venison, so rare it’s still bloody BEVERAGE: Double whisky on the rocks COLOR: Gold

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Slytherin WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 13 inches, Holly, Dragon Heart String, Brittle AMORTENTIA: Pine trees, cigar smoke, candied ginger, and the unmistakable musk of all the men he’s ever fucked (oops) PATRONUS: A Deerhound BOGGART: A blue ticket. Even though he’s no expert in muggle history, he spends enough time in queer muggle spaces to know what they are, and the first time he found out about that, the first time someone told him about dishonorable discharge because of something so seemingly trivial, it made his blood turn to ice. He couldn’t shake the image, the idea of it, and to this day, he avoids boggarts at all costs because he knows it’ll give away his secret.

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral MBTI: ENFP MBTI ROLE: The Campaigner ENNEAGRAM: Type 6 ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Loyalist / the Skeptic TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine WESTERN ZODIAC: Aries CHINESE ZODIAC: Horse PRIMAL SIGN: Hammerhead Shark TAROT CARD: The Devil TV TROPES: Beard of Sorrow, Millionaire Playboy, Black Shirt, Draco in Leather Pants, Lovable Rogue, Punch-clock Villain SONGS:

1. balaclava by the arctic monkeys 2. bury a friend by billie eilish 3. to be so lonely by harry styles 4. make up your mind by florence & the machine 5. winter of our youth by bastille 6. broken crown by mumford & sons 7. i’m still standing by elton john 8. people by the 1975 9. ball and a biscuit by the white stripes 10. let’s have a kiki by scissor sisters (am i joking? idk)

IDEOLOGIES:

Adores birthdays and refuses to let people get away with not celebrating them. He loves any excuse to drink and party, and he knows he gives a mean toast, so people might as well fucking celebrate so he can put his skills on display. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Despite the contradictory nature of this, he doesn’t hate all members of the Order / all blood traitors on principle. He understands that they’re just trying to defend their place in the universe, and frankly, he respects the survival instincts he’s seeing play out. Of course, he knows his side is going to win – that’s inevitable. But it’s still admirable to see them all go down with such a valiant fight.

Hates cats. Period, full stop.

Refuses to go to St. Mungo’s, or any hospital for that matter. His uncle on his maternal side went there for a minor illness and came out in a box. Rabastan was seven, and his tiny brain came to the conclusion that the hospital was what did in his uncle, not his illness. And now, Rab knows how illogical it is, but he’d rather pay the family healer to come take a look at him than go to the doctor.

Would rather stand on public transportation than sit next to a stranger because he loves his own personal space just a little too much

As much as he does spend his family’s money a little too freely, no one can ever accuse Rab of hoarding his wealth. He always buys a round for everyone in the bar, picks up the check without being asked, buys things for his friends that they want but don’t need, lets people crash at Lestrange Manor whenever they need to. He’s not miserly in the slightest, not like Rodolphus.

Never makes a crucial decision without consulting a seer first. His mother taught him the habit.

Always flips one cigarette in the pack when he buys a new one.

No matter what time he wakes up, breakfast food has to be the first food he eats.

[joyful-soul-collector]

Knives are often things that grab a human’s attention, no?

Scene 2

“Hazik, don’t touch that. Someone else is gonna buy that and they don’t want your grubby hands all over it.” Jace pushed the shopping cart down the produce aisle, scanning the shelves. Hazik put down the fuzzy orange food they were examining, and followed him, still staring around with curious, teal eyes. They got out their notebook and began to scribble down notes.

“What was that food?” Hazik asked, for the seventh time.

“It’s a peach, and if you don’t stop touching the produce then I’m leaving you home on the next shopping run,” Jace answered, steering the cart to another aisle. “Okay, see if you can find laundry detergent, it’ll be in a big blue jug in the aisle over there.” He pointed to an aisle two rows over.

“Okay! One question, what’s laundry detergent?” Hazik said, their eyes switching again to a puzzled look.

“The stuff you wash your clothes with,” Jace answered, frowning at the prices of the bread in front of him.

“I thought humans had machines to do that for them,” Hazik said.

“Well yeah,” Jace answered. “But it doesn’t work unless you put that stuff in it.”

“What does it do? Is it the fuel for the machine?” Hazik flipped open their notebook again.

“What? No, it just makes your clothes smell like friggin’ daisies-- look we don’t have time to explain every cleaning product in the store, so go grab it while I figure out why the hell bread costs so much.” Jace shooed Hazik to the aisle.

Hazik noticed Jace’s hands still fiddling with the mechanical writing utensil as they were being ushered away. Habit, they thought as they walked to the aisle Jace had pointed out. Hazik thought Jace was a rather odd one. In the two Earth days Hazik had known him, they had noticed so many things about Jace, while Jace hadn’t even noticed Hazik’s eyes changed color. Why doesn’t Jace just look properly? Hazik pondered this while looking for the blue container. Hazik returned and handed Jace the bottle, still thinking.

“Uh, Hazik, this is bleach, not laundry detergent,” Jace said.

“Is it? How do you know?”

“Because it says ‘bleach’ right here,” Jace said, pointing to a patch of squiggles on the jug.

“Does it?”

“…Hazik can you read this?”

“No.”

Jace stared at them. Hazik wished Jace’s eyes would change color, that way they could tell at least how he was feeling. His face changed, with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, but Hazik didn’t know what any of these things meant.

“You came here, speaking perfect English, but you can’t read or write in English?” he said finally.

“We left early. We only had enough time to learn how to speak the language assigned.”

“What--Why didn’t you just learn how to speak and read at the same time?” Jace said incredulously, as he went and switched out the bleach for laundry soap.

“Why would we do that? It makes more sense to learn how to speak it perfectly, and then learn to read and write it perfectly. That is how we learn languages on Uswarvis.”

“Uswarvis?”

“My planet.”

“Riiiight. Tell me more about that. What’s it like there?”

“It is actually quite similar to Earth, except it is much smaller,” Hazik said as Jace continued about the store, pulling things off the shelves and frowning at the little squiggles on the shelves. “It is about half the size of Earth. But we both orbit the same type of star, and seem to have a similar landscape and climate. Our only large difference seems to be the organisms, but I was sent here to research mostly the differences in our people.” Hazik followed Jace to the checkout line and started to help unload.

“That’s interesting. What differences have you noticed so far?” Jace said.

“Well, the largest one so far is humans have genders. Uswarvis does not.”

“Wait, what? So, you don’t have boys, girls, or anything else?” Jace exclaimed as he unloaded a few cleaning supplies.

“Nope. You know how there are a few humans on Earth who do not identify with any gender? All Uswarvians are like that.”

“So, here, on earth, your pronouns would be they, them, right?”

“I suppose so, yes. But on Uswarvis, pronouns are not part of the language, not in the way it is here. We also do not assign facial expressions to emotions. Instead, it is eye color.”

“But, you make faces. Not a lot, but you do.”

“Yes, but there are too many variations of faces that it is hard to keep track of what means what, and then you can change your face in order to lie, and that brings in a whole new set of variables, and it all just gets very confusing. It is much easier to just look into someone’s eyes and see how they feel. Each color means a different feeling and you cannot hide it unless you close your eyes. No need to worry about variables.”

“Cool… Amazing, actually! Tell me about what it’s like there.” Jace said with a crooked grin on his face. From what Hazik knew, smiles were a positive response, so they went on.

“We used to be a peaceful civilization. There are two halves of our planet, Espeusil and Bashosil. We’d had battles in the past, but all of it lead up to peace and harmony with all individuals living happily. Of course there were disagreements, but just over little things, that only changed small parts of our lives.” Hazik paused and watched Jace swipe a plastic rectangle through a little slot. They made a mental note to ask Jace about that later.

“‘Used to be’? What happened?” Jace asked as they made their way to his car, the shopping cart rattling noisily.

“Well… my half of the globe, Bashosil, got a new leader. They called themself, I think in English it translates to, ‘The Bringer of a New World”, but everyone just calls them The Bringer.”

“The Bringer of a New World? That sounds rather dramatic,” Jace said, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, they thought very highly of themselves,” Hazik’s eyes suddenly shifted to a sorrowful purple. “And at first it was normal. New leaders are normal. But then things started to… happen. And eventually people started to get angry, myself included. The Bringer was an angry person, angry at Espeusil.”

“Why?” asked Jace.

“Espeusil had technologies that we did not. Technology that could save lives. But they were unwilling to share this with us, for reasons I have not found out. An epidemic broke out on our half of the globe and Espeusil waited far too long before finally helping us. Long enough that The Bringer lost their partner and child. Bringer waited just long enough for doctors to cure most of our country and then declared war on Espeusil in revenge.

“I am part of an organization that is trying to stop the war, called Iktbok. It is a combination of the Espeusilish word “Itko” and the Bashosilish word “Bokan”, that translates to something similar to “ceasefire”. I am part of the Planet Exploration Division. I work in the Ethics, Laws, and Culture department. My job is to record the culture and laws of my assigned planet, and then bring that information back to Uswarvis, so as to learn ways to peacefully end the war.”

“Wow. So you have to explore this whole planet by yourself?” Jace said as he got into the rickety car.

“Oh no, I have a team to help with this planet. There are a total of ten Uswarvians here, five Bashosil, five Espeusil. We have been here almost eight Earth days,” Hazik explained. They thought for a moment, their eyes still filled with that violet sadness. “Uswarvis is in total war. There isn’t one person who isn’t involved now. It seems like it been going on for lifetimes. It feels like… like the world will crack in half before the war ends. I would not be surprised if it did, with all the damage our environment has taken.”

Hazik talked about their planets’ various battles the whole trip back to the apartment; talked of the death of their friends, and the horrors they’d seen in war. Images flashed in their head, awful screams echoing in their ears.

“I was young when the plague started. I left to fight as a soldier when the war started, and became a researcher for Iktbok a while later, and now I am here… Sometimes it is hard to see a way to fix everything.”

“That… that really sucks Hazik,” Jace said, bringing Hazik out of their thoughts. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. That you’re still going through it. I…” He suddenly gripped Hazik’s shoulder and looked them in the eye. “I hope that somehow we can help your home.” And even though Jace’s eyes stayed that constant, dark brown, Hazik knew Jace felt some sort of caring feeling, which they felt comforted by.

“Now,” Hazik said, seeming to snap out of a trance as their eyes shifted to a curious gaze. “You have heard enough about me and my planet. Why don’t you tell me about you? What is your life like?” They looked at Jace expectantly, but Jace’s eyes suddenly widened, before darting away. The writing utensil was back in Jace’s hand, twitching as he rolled it between his fingers.

“Uh, um, well--uh, there’s plenty of time for my life later. You’ll be hearing about Earth all the time, now that you live here of course,” Jace said, his eyes darting to the side, purposefully not making eye contact. He quickly clambered out of the car and pulled open the trunk. Hazik made a small note in his book before climbing out to help Jace, their eyes still holding that inquisitive stare.

End scene

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Heritage - Part 4

/Description: Steve Rogers wakes up in the 21st century to learn that he missed more than he could ever realize.

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Y/N [Platonic]; Bucky x Reader … eventually

Word Count: 2,388

Previously On...

Y/N stared at Nick Fury’s fake grave as she waited for the rest to arrive.

She was discharged from the hospital just a couple of days ago. There was still bruising on her face and she was told that the gunshot wound in her shoulder would leave a nasty scar, even with the super-soldier serum in her blood.

Y/N heard Steve and Sam walking up behind her.

“How you doing?” Sam asked as he looked at the bandages on her shoulder and the minor cuts that were still healing.

“I’ve had worse.” Y/N shrugged with a smirk.

But Steve didn’t seem as amused with her casualness as Sam was.

Before he could scold her or give a speech, Nick showed up. He’d lost the eye-patch and replaced it with sunglasses and a hoodie.

“We’ve been data mining Hydra’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship.” Fury explained.

Y/N watched Steve’s face. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“I’m headed to Europe tonight.” Nick continued. “Wanted to ask if you’d come.”

Y/N held her breath, truly not knowing how he would respond.

But Steve clenched his jaw, “There’s something I gotta do first.”

“How about you, Wilson? I could use a man with your abilities.”

But Sam was studying Steve. “I’m more of a soldier than a spy.”

Finally, Fury moved his attention to her. “Y/N?” It was the first time he’d called her by her first name.

Her eyes flickered to Steve’s before she shrugged and tilted her head dramatically. “I’ve decided that I don’t really believe in institutionalized heroics anymore. I don’t think I can trust working for anyone other than myself.”

“Not even me?” Fury badgered.

“It’s hard to trust someone who won’t ever fully trust you in return.” Y/N teased.

She swore she caught a slight smirk from Fury.

“Well, alright then.” He finished before shaking all of their hands.

It was then that Nat interrupted and Fury took his leave.

Y/N saw the folder in her hand and knew she had successfully found all the files on Bucky.

“Will you do me a favor?” Y/N overheard Nat asking Steve. “Call that nurse.”

Y/N’s body stiffened.

“She’s not a nurse.” Steve smirked.

“And you’re not a SHIELD agent.” Nat countered.

“What was her name again?”

Y/N cringed.

“Sharon.” Nat told him. “She’s nice.”

Y/N couldn’t help but let out a giant laugh. Sam looked at her funny. “Oh, this is going to be so hilarious.” Y/N told him as she failed to contain her laughter.

She watched as Nat said her goodbyes and surprisingly gave Steve a kiss on the cheek.

Steve turned around and narrowed his eyes at Y/N. “What’s so funny?”

“I have something to tell you.” Y/N laughed lightly. “I’ve would’ve said it sooner, but the whole Hydra still being alive and trying to destroy the world thing happened and I was a little preoccupied.”

Steve and Sam waited.

“Sharon is my cousin.” Y/N just blurted it out. There was really no other way. “Peggy is her great aunt.”

Sam, who had yet to meet Sharon or know anything about her, didn’t catch on.

“Did you know she was assigned to monitor me?” Steve asked.

“I didn’t even know she was in the states. Last time I heard from her, she claimed she was in London. But hey, she’s not blood related to you. So go for it.” Y/N giggled and shook her head at the ludicrousness of it all. “God, this family gets more and more ridiculous.”

Steve playfully glared at her.

But Y/N’s entertainment came to a quick halt when she caught the folder in Steve’s hand and was reminded of their other problems.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you.” She muttered softly.

“You two don’t have to come with me.” Steve looked at the ground as he said it.

Y/N had the audacity to scoff at him. Sam smirked at her reaction because he agreed.

“Sam already said it: you are soldiers, not spies. You need all the help you can get. You two aren’t trained for this; I am.” Y/N explained to the two men.

Steve put his hands on his hips. “You almost died, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so did you. So did all of us.”

“I told Peggy and Grant that I’d look after you. And what did I do? I almost got you killed.”

“Get over yourself, Steve.” Y/N snapped. It caused Sam to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Even if you hadn’t been there, I would’ve risked my life to take down Hydra. I joined SHIELD for the same reasons you did. With you or not, I would’ve died protecting the world.”

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “She’s got a point…”

“I don’t have SHIELD anymore.” Y/N continued. “And to be honest, I think I need a break from taking orders.” But then her whole face softened. “I know what Bucky means to you, Steve. How could you ever expect me to let you do this alone?”

Steve gave her a sad smile. Sometimes he didn’t think he deserved Y/N. She was more than just his granddaughter, she was slowly becoming his best friend.

“So…” Sam stopped the silence. “When do we start?”

-----

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/N was blending in as she weaved through the crowd. Before joining SHIELD’s STRIKE team, she had mostly worked alone. Nat, Clint, and Fury had taught her everything she knew: working on recon, using sexpionage, and making quick work of highly sensitive missions . The strength and intelligence she inherited from Steve was such a small part of Y/N’s capabilities.

Her work had gained her connections all over the world, ones that were now supplying her, Steve, and Sam with the majority of their leads they got for finding Bucky.

She’d found another that brought her to Denmark.

Meanwhile, Sam was in Germany, following a different lead.

The Avengers had reassembled after Hydra came crawling back out of the darkness. Tony Stark realized there were bases all around the world and Loki’s scepter was in their possession. It caused such a panic that even Thor returned to Earth to help hunt it down. Therefore Steve had to step away from their hunt for Bucky.

Y/N wore a leather trench coat that made the passing men wonder if she had anything on underneath. Her walk was joined with a clicking of her pointed stiletto heels. Yes, her outfit helped her blend in. But her beauty and aura made her stick out to the opposite gender no matter what.

But it was all necessary for fitting in at the high-end bar where she was meeting an old friend. They had eyes all over the city. When Y/N informed her network that she was looking for the Winter Soldier, her friends responded.

Y/N’s eyes raced around the fancy bar, looking for her friend and also scoping out the new environment like she had been trained to do. There was mostly rich men, wearing suits and checking out women who were much too young for them.

“You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Y/N.” Someone said behind her.

Y/N smirked and twisted to find her old friend, Noah. They had met when she was still in training as a teenager barely out of high school.

“And you haven’t changed a bit, Noah.”

He led them to a secluded booth in the corner of the bar. The lighting was low so it could obscure them slightly. The music was loud enough to stop others from eavesdropping. There was a reason he asked her to meet there.

Noah ordered them both a cocktail and as soon as he allowed Y/N a few sips, he slid a folder onto the table discreetly. Y/N kept her expression in check as she flipped it open to see various security photos from the area. Many were obscure, but she’d learned to recognize Bucky’s silhouette and movements.

He was always wearing a hat or had a hood up. But Y/N knew it was really him.

“These were taken a few days ago.” Noah explained. “But this one,” his finger tapped on the very first photo, “was taken only yesterday.”

Y/N tried not to get too excited. She’d been this close to Bucky before. But he always seemed to be at least half a step ahead of her. He knew he was being tracked and he also knew how to stay hidden. It wasn’t just Steve looking for him. Whatever was left of Hydra... They wanted their weapon back too. Countless governments were after him as well.

“Thank you, Noah. I owe you one.” Y/N finished the rest of her cocktail.

“Still all work and no play, I see.” Noah commented with a flirtatious smirk.

Y/N would’ve said something witty and sarcastic back, but she suddenly felt someone watching her. She kept her attention on it, but pretended to be engaged with Noah still.

“And you still won’t give it a rest.” She countered with a forced, flirtatious smile. “With a woman as beautiful as you? Never.”

Y/N leaned forward and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. “There is someone watching us, but they’re after me. Call your guards. I’ll lead them away.”

Noah pulled away with a tight smile, but she saw the newfound focus in his eyes.

“Always a pleasure, Noah.”

Y/N sauntered out of the bar and thought back on the map she’d memorized before meeting Noah. There was an alley system around the corner. If she was quick enough, she could lead them there and make her move.

While Y/N was wearing a trench coat to blend in, hidden underneath was half a dozen knives and two guns holstered to both of her upper thighs. And even with her stilettos, she could still do the same damage to whoever dared attack her.

Y/N could tell the person had followed them out of the bar and into the alleyways.

She made a quick turn and hid herself, waiting to hear their footsteps approach at the precise moment.

With a burst of adrenaline, Y/N shoved her follower against the opposite wall of the alley. They were wearing a baseball cap and had a hoodie pulled over it.

But they weren’t giving up that easily. They shoved her back and Y/N was caught off guard by how strong they were. With Steve’s serum in her genetics, Y/N was stronger than the average man.

With the flick of her wrist, Y/N extended the hidden knife under her sleeve. She whipped it across their chest, but they were quick in pulling back and dodging it. Except, Y/N was already going for her second swipe and managed to cut their cheekbone, barely missing their eye. 

But then Y/N heard the whirring as they moved their arm and the streetlights reflected off the little bit of space between their sleeve and leather glove.

“Bucky?” Y/N gasped as she immediately stopped. He lifted his head high enough that light finally hit his face.

Bucky took advantage of Y/N’s momentary surrender and pushed her roughly against the wall. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how it wasn’t hard enough to hurt her.

“Who do you work for?” He growled.

“I - I don’t work for anyone.” Y/N was so caught off guard by him actually standing right there in front of her that she was struggling to form a sentence.

“Don’t lie to me.” He said surprisingly calm. “You work for SHIELD.”

Y/N glared at his assumption. “SHIELD is dead.”

“Then why have you been following me? You’re not Hydra.”

“Steve. Steve Rogers sent me. We’ve been looking for you. Ever since the Battle of Washington DC, we’ve been looking for you.”

Bucky finally let go of her.

“I don’t want to be found.” He mumbled.

“We can help you.” Y/N told him softly.

“No, you can’t.”

Suddenly there were sounds of people running towards them.

Bucky instantly turned and put himself between them and Y/N.

She blinked at the protectiveness of it. But she quickly snapped out of it and realized it was Noah and his men.

“On your knees!” They yelled at Bucky in Danish with their guns raised.

Y/N stepped in front of Bucky. “It’s okay! He’s a friend. Stand down.”

Upon seeing an unhurt and calm Y/N, Noah ordered his men to put their guns down. Y/N walked to him.

“You have to get out of town. Others have found out he’s here. They’ll come looking.” Noah informed her evenly.

Y/N nodded, knowing he was right.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N. I hope you know what you’ve got yourself into.” Noah told her gently before him and his men left the ally.

But when Y/N turned around, Bucky had disappeared.

She ran her fingers through her hair in distress, “Fuck.”

Little did she know, Bucky was watching her from the shadows. ------

The next morning, Y/n had the phone in her hand. She was ready to call Steve and tell him that she’d talked to Bucky. 

So why was her thumb hovering over the call button?

She thought about how scared Bucky had looked. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier. The man could’ve killed her in an instant, but he didn’t. He also knew that she’d been tracking him around the world, yet hadn’t made himself known or tried to hurt her.

“I don’t want to be found.” He almost sounded desperate when he had said it.

Y/N put her phone away. 

There was something in his eyes that made her realize she couldn’t go against the man’s wishes. 

Yes, Steve wanted Bucky back... wanted to help him. But Y/N had been so preoccupied with finding him that she never even imagined Steve could be someone he was running from as well.

Y/N decided then and there she would follow Bucky until he let her help him. She wouldn’t tell Steve where he was until Bucky wanted it. The man had already been through enough. It was the least she could do for him.

Part Five

So I really, really love when people comment and react to my writing. It makes me really sad when they don’t. Because what’s the point of writing on here if people don’t? lol

Also, I don’t do tag lists. Please please please don’t ask. 

[toloveawarlord]

  Ch. 1

Pairing: Edgar x Iris

“The Red Army doesn’t bend rules.” The king of hearts icy eyes showed no remorse for his words. Since recently visiting my home, he would know that my brother had shirked his duty to join and still refused even with Lancelot Kingsley at our dinner table. That encounter had made our family lose its status. Our house, our land, our dignity. Ripped away by the selfishness of my brother.

              Without a horse, I had walked for two days to even get to the Red Army Headquarters. The soldiers at the front gate had tried to turn me away but the Ace of Hearts allowed my entry. Even he said that it would be a futile attempt to speak to Lancelot now. “I see no where in the rules where women aren’t allowed.”

              Lancelot didn’t budge on his stance. “Ian has refused his duty, and henceforth, that has taken away any status that the Adley family has. They have no place among the army. Zero will take you home, Iris.” His gaze dropped back down to the papers on his desk.

              “I don’t have a home, anymore. You took that from us,” I said, turning on my heel. My family had split apart mere days after having our status demoted to civilians. My mother’s family had taken her in under the stipulation that she remove any contact with the rest of us. My father moved to black territory, hoping to find work. Ian had disappeared the very night he refused to join. My place had yet to be found. Using money that I stole from the house before I left, I’ve been moving around from town to town, finding no welcome as a stripped aristocrat.

              Zero held the door open for me, not having said a word the entire time.

              “If Ian finds himself ready to serve his country, I might be willing to allow him in as an ordinary soldier. His place as the Ten of Hearts will not be reconsidered until he proves himself,” Lancelot spoke, still not taking his attention off his work.

              If I can even find him. His quest to find his true love had drove him away from his family, making him turn his back on us. If that’s what love is, I will never succumb to it. We were opposites. He enjoyed cooking, housework, and writing poems. I had been the one who mastered swordplay and learned to strategize for war. For fun, father would say. It would be to encourage my brother not to be outdone by me.

              Following behind me like shadow, Zero finally spoke. “The Red Army has never had a woman as soldier, let alone as one of the Chosen Thirteen. I’m sorry that he denied your request, but it’s probably for the best. War isn’t a—”

              “Don’t finish that sentence,” I snapped. Men. Always so sure that women are weak and frail. If he’d only given me a chance to show how well I can handle a sword… I was sure he would change his mind. Instead, all the King of Hearts did was hide behind their misogynistic view.

              “The stables are this way, I can take you wherever you’d like,” he offered, gesturing away from the main gate. He didn’t seem like a bad person, but with my blood boiling, there was no kind words that would make me calm.

              With a shake of my head, I couldn’t help the anger in my tone. “I’ll be fine on my own. The Central Quarter isn’t that far.” Without looking back, I forced my body to move. If Lancelot thinks that his harsh words and assessments are going to keep me from getting back what he stole from my family, he is sorely mistaken.

The soldiers stationed by the entrance were snickering to each other and staring blatantly as I passed by. They instantly straightened up as two others approached on horseback. Both of them were high ranking officers. Their crests were the Jack of Hearts and the Queen of Hearts. Rumor has it that the Queen of Hearts is has no heart when it comes to training new recruits. The Jack, however, had a family name that I recognized, the Bright’s. While my family never had any direct contact, I’m sure the two of us have met at least once when we were young and at some social party.

The walk back to the Central Quarter took half an hour and my feet ached from all the traveling I’d done in the last few days. The prestigious inn near the very center cost more than I could afford for a few nights, so I simply planned to stay one. Where to go next alluded me. In my frustrated state, my mind wandered to the Black Army. They were said to take anyone in who had skills.

Groaning, I flopped on the comfy bed, something that the other inns in smaller towns lacked. Joining the Black Army would do me no good. It won’t get my status back in the Red Territory. It won’t bring my family back together. Mother would rather live dirt poor than move to Black Territory. The money in my satchel clinked together, reminding me off their worth.

If Ian finds himself ready to serve his country.

Ian would die in the first day of training.

Sitting up, the wheels in my head began to turn. Lancelot only met Ian once, for a brief moment. That’s not long enough to have accessed his character in battle or his skills with sword. Grabbing my dagger from my satchel, I couldn’t get to the bathroom quick enough. My image in the mirror stared back at me. Ian and I were three years apart, and while no one had said we could be twins, we did look much alike. Same thin blonde hair that frizzed in the summer heat. Same strikingly bright blue eyes. His jawline was more defined than mine, which was softer and rounder.

If Lancelot Kingsley won’t accept anyone but Ian…

I’ll have to become him.

Raising the blade to my gorgeously long blonde hair, I sliced the strands bit by bit. The pile on the floor growing thicker by the second. I couldn’t bare for it to be so short like most men were. Instead, making it still long enough to pull it back. After all his soul searching for the past six months, he’s bound to of let himself go a little. My other features still proved my gender, as I had a decent amount of breast to cover up.

The only favor I could pull to help was a seamstress in town who favored me since I was a child. Rosanne Collings. Her business is going strong, and she makes very beautiful clothes for both men and women. If anyone could help me, it was her. But, at this hour, she might already have left.

Tomorrow is the first day of training, and if Ian fails to show up, I wonder if Lancelot would ever consider letting him in again.

Thank the heavens that Rosanne still worked late. She smiled at me, “Hello, Iris. It’s lovely for you to have to dropped by. I heard what happened with your family, and dear if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” This woman is the most wonderful woman who ever lived. She had never married, nor had a child of her own. To her, I was her daughter.

“Rosanne, I do need something,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. If she turns me away, I’m not sure that there’s any way I can get what I need. This is all Ian’s fault. The first thing I do when I see him again some day is punch him.

Rosanne pulled the door open further. “Please do come in! What is it?” She closed the door, flipping the lock. She had always been so careful when living alone.

“I need you to help me look like a man.”