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justalost4girl · 3 years

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" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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gypsydanger01 · 4 years

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THE STORM - Part eighteen

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

A Meeting with Mr. Edgar

By the time the firefighters had shown up, Black Noir had already left and taken all the security tapes with him. There could be no evidence of his weakness, nor of his betrayal.

Because that was what he’d done: he’d betrayed Vought and helped a woman who obviously meant to harm this institution. Retiring to his living quarters he sat on the edge of his bed and awaited a call from the man in charge.

“My office, tomorrow at ten o’clock,” the man spoke concisely and promptly hung up.

The darkly clothed man rose from the bed, and slowly made his way to the bathroom. The damage to his suit was noticeable: the charred exterior and the handprint seared into his chest plate were the scars left from the fight.

And he felt pain. It stemmed deep in his chest below that handprint and developed into a tightness he could not relieve. This had been her secret. The fatigue in her shoulders, her constant wariness: she was a spy.

When she’d unleashed the blast, he should’ve gotten up and fought back. After all this time, he didn’t even register pain. He was unstoppable. And yet, once he’d realized it was her, he didn’t want to.

He removed his suit and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water slide over his tight muscles. He placed a hand against the wall, and let it run down his back, hitting his shoulders almost violently. Conflicted, he was torn in two by his thoughts. On one hand, the loyalty for the company who had made him insisted he uncover her identity, find her, and terminate her along with her plan. On the other hand, a part him wanted to understand her motives, what had pushed her to such an act. Why had she lied to him?

He leaned his forehead against the wall. She was his friend, and she’d lied. If there was one thing he’d learned from the books he read and the movies he watched, it was that friends were supposed to trust each other. They didn’t lie.

This explained her guarded attitude during their first encounters. It explained her having a dagger in her evening dress. Why did she let him get close? She could have sent him away that first time they met. He’d taken care of her ex-boyfriend, but she didn’t owe him anything. Still, she’d allowed him in, and they’d grown comfortable with each other. They were friends.

And now he knew her secret.

The morning after, at the established time, Noir headed up to Mr. Edgar’s office. He sat in the waiting room, and it was always a sight to see. This dark, silent man sitting on a pristine white sofa. He felt out of place amid the light pastel colors that made up the office’s interior.

He was soon escorted inside, where he bowed his head respectfully and took a seat in front of the man pulling all the strings.

The man peered at Noir through his glasses, “How are you, Noir?”

He answered with a nod and a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, let’s get straight to the point then,” he clasped his hands together. “Last night, Vought was attacked by a terrorist who, it turns out, has powers,” the man paused and licked his lips before proceeding. “When I was made aware of the hacking I sent you, one of the most powerful and ruthless beings on Earth, to stop her.” His tone was calm and detached but held an underlying fury to it. “The suit you were wearing was the one that needs its camera repaired,” he pointed out, “And the recordings have been stolen. So, tell me why, pray tell, didn’t you stop her?”

Black Noir reached out to a blank piece of paper on the large, mahogany desk. Mr. Edgar pushed an expensive looking pen his way. Taking it into hand, Black Noir should’ve told him everything. Her name, their meetings... Instead, he wrote:

She was stronger than expected. I will find her

Mr. Edgar skimmed the page looking down through his glasses.

“Yes, you will find her,” he repeated. Noir knew he meant it as an order. “And you will bring her to Vought. Does she have the USB?”

It was destroyed by the blast, sir

Mr. Edgar watched the subject in front of him. “We think we know who the terrorist is. Her name is Marianna Stacker.”

Black Noir’s mind immediately recalled the woman’s blonde friend calling out to her when she’d burned the rude man outside of the club. Marianna.

“She is believed to be extremely dangerous. She redirects energy and is a highly destructive force. Uncontrollable, unpredictable.”

Noir nodded as he absorbed any and all information Mr. Edgar would share with him. He never asked questions, only listened, and carried out orders.

“She’s a serious threat. Looking at our scientist’s projections, she might be strong enough to eliminate you and Homelander,” he looked down at the impressive report they’d left for him.

Instructions, sir

“You will find her and incapacitate her while her guard is down,” he placed a syringe full of light blue liquid on the desk. “You will then take her to compound 15, in Montana. It is the only place where we can hold her. I’ll have a company plane take you there. This must be handled swiftly and discreetly.” Mr. Edgar paused, “Do you understand?”

Yes, sir

“Good,” the man smiled pleasantly, “Then you are dismissed. You will keep me updated.”

As Black Noir stood, he nodded and crossed the room towards the door where he was stopped.

“And son,” Mr. Edgar spoke, “Do not fail me.”

The superhero nodded once more and left the premises with the potent sedative concealed in his suit. And as he left, he realized just how confused he truly was as to where he stood.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx @rayray1463

#black noir #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys season 2 #fanfiction #oc story #black noir x oc #romance

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seriouslyobsessed · 3 years

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A woman's battle is in the birthing bed, where Jaime is helpless to protect those he loves.Five times Jaime witnesses a birth.

•The Dancing Knight By Miss_M

https://archiveofourown.org/works/945390

Fusion between ASOIAF and two fairytales from the Brothers Grimm, “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” and “The Robber Bridegroom”Brienne of Tarth is a penniless knight who accepts the challenge posed by Lord Tywin Lannister: to watch over his son and heir Jaime Lannister for three nights and discover what strange affliction is driving the greatest knight in the realm into an early grave. Brienne discovers a hidden world of dark and sensual magic, receives help from an unexpected source, and learns to rely on her wits as well as her sword. Also, dancing happens.

•Sapphires By NightReaderEnigma

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837673/chapters/44704381

"I will give them what they want. They are all waiting for it. They think I am loyal to Cersei, inseparable from Cersei. I am Kingslayer, Oathbreaker, shit for honour. They can't reconcile what they are seeing with what they have heard of me Brienne. They have no interest in my redemption, to them I deserve no pardon. They will make it be so and they will eliminate anyone who would stand in their way. Of all the things I've done – I cannot be your downfall. I will not. I could never forgive myself.” He kissed the top of Brienne's blonde hair. “I would forfeit my life in an instant if I could prevent it.”

Jaime contrives a plan to ensure the safety of Brienne in the midst of the turmoil... The ultimate fix-it fic to negate the heartbreak and reunite our beloved couple. This works with the episode canon but changes the way it is interpreted, running with and beyond Season 8. A POV covering of the time omitted between J/B from Season 8 Ep 4, their month in Winterfell, the rest of the series and beyond. The answer to the questions plaguing our shipper hearts. Head canon combined with the episodes. Now completed. :)

#fanfiction recommendations #fanfiction #fanfic #fic rec #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #got #braime #braime fanfiction

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dramaticironyoflife · 4 years

Text

Exam Escape

Ignis adjusted his glasses and shifted his weight slightly. So slightly that it didn’t appear that he had moved at all. He was surveying the mess that was the prince’s apartment. Bags of trash lay absolutely everywhere. He wasn’t sure whether to be appealed or astounded by the amount of litter that had accumulated over the course of a few short days. However, it was exam week for his young charge and it was natural that chaos would dramatically increase in such a time of stress and panic.

But that didn’t mean Ignis had to like it.

He sighed and set about trying to straighten the mess. He wasn’t quite sure where to start though. The advisor was decidedly off this Friday. Perhaps it was the daunting reality that, after today, Noct would be home for the whole of the Summer. As long as he had not managed to fail any exams, that was. The long hours of chasing the prince down and running through practice exams had worn Ignis down over the last few weeks. Even last night Noct has called him up in a frenzy and wouldn’t settle until Ignis had drilled him on at least half a dozen practice questions. Not the oddest activity he’d done at 3:27 in the morning but the prince’s excited state had left him unable to drift back off. He thought of this as he took a gulp of Ebony. His fifth can of the afternoon. Gladio had absolutely refused to let him train for their full session. He instead led Ignis through a series of stretches to attempt to get him to relax. He probably would’ve let the advisor sleep through a portion of the session as well if Ignis had not so stubbornly refused. Gladio had a small victory in the end though. He’d made Ignis promise not to drive himself home that night as his sleep deprived state was hardly considered safe. This was a point that Ignis not only couldn’t argue but flat out didn’t want to. Gladio brought a certain amount of peace into Iggy’s life, taking on a good portion of the responsibilities that came with watching over the future heir.

Ignis finished piling the trash together and began to sort through the rest of the mess. Magazines and comic books had been mixed in with the important reports and briefings that Noct had, most probably, neglected to read. Future king or no, the prince procrastinated better than anyone Ignis had ever met. He sorted through the papers, making different piles before sitting back on his heels. The time was ticking by far too fast for Ignis’ liking. He wasn’t needed to make Noct’s dinner tonight, thank heaven, and would rather like to leave before he and Prompto began their celebrations that came at the end of each exam period. There would most likely be shouting and cheering and all sorts of merry making that sounded absolutely dreadful to Ignis’ blossoming headache. Still, he couldn’t help but come by the rooms and see exactly how bad it had gotten over the past three days. Once he’d witnessed the pigs dye, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He cursed his instincts to help the prince and resisted the urge to sweep everything left on the floor under whatever available spaces lay before him. Honestly, he was almost sure that Noct would never realize the difference. He swept the floor carefully, picking up odds and ends he’d missed as he went. He shifted the sofa out of the way and grunted as he bent to retrieve a few magazines and marbles that had taken up residence there when the door slammed open.

“FREEDOM!!!” The shout was so loud that Ignis jumped. He lost his footing and landed none too gracefully on his behind. It seemed though that neither of the boys had heard him.

“YEAH!!” Noct joined in the blond’s excited squealing and tore off his jacket, tossing it in the direction of the kitchen. Ignis peered over the edge of the sofa, unwilling to get dragged into the celebration. Prompto slipped of his satchel and grinned definitely at Noct,

“We did it! We’re done and you wanna know what I think about school?!” Noct applauded, waving his hands like an impromptu rapper,

“What’d you thing about school?!”

“You wanna know what I think about books?!!”

“What about ‘em, Prom?!”

“YOU WANNA KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS SATCHEL?!”

“WHAT?!”

“I’LL SHOW YA WHAT I THINK!!!!” With this and a somewhat pathetic war cry, Prompto slammed the bag down on the ground and began jumping on it repeatedly. Noct cheered and began some odd dancing ritual around the excited teen. Ignis blinked.

He was definitely not coming out now. He sunk lower behind the sofa and tugged out his phone. He scrolled quickly to his contacts and located Gladio’s name. He pressed call before he could over think anything.

Gladio was lounging on the sofa in his dad’s office. Clarus was sifting through some papers, allowing Gladio to scroll through his phone undisturbed. Gladio grunted as Iggy’s contact lit up the device and pulled himself upright. Clarus glanced at him, cocking an eyebrow.

“Hey, Iggy,” Gladio announced the greeting and his dad nodded before resuming his work. “You ready for me?”

“Six, yes, come get me.” Gladio tensed. The words were whispered in an almost desperate voice.

“Iggy? Where are you?” His dad noticed the change in his son’s voice and dropped his paper. Gladio was tense, ready for action.

“At Noct’s...” Ignis peered quickly at the boys to see they were now throwing assignments into the air like makeshift confetti, still shouting in jubilation.

“What? Why are you at Noct’s? I thought you said...”

“That I wouldn’t go over to his chambers today, I know! I tried, Gladio, believe me. I just knew that his apartment was a mess and I thought it would be nice for him to come back to a clean apartment-”

“Just so he could mess it all up again?” Gladio chuckled and Clarus relaxed. Gladio rose from the sofa and grabbed his jacket. He raised a hand in farewell to his father before slipping out into the hallway. “Hang tight, Iggy, I’m on my way.”

Ignis heard the call disconnect and sighed, hunching further in on himself. Being tall and lean was a disadvantage in this moment. He felt dread sink into him when he heard the boys approaching the sofa.

“You wanna order pizza while I set up the game?” Noct’s voice was followed by the sound of someone throwing themselves onto the sofa. Ignis flinched as it shifted slightly with the force of the prince’s body. Prompto’s giddy response was followed by some tapping.

“Whoever made apps for ordering pizza is a genius.” Prompto commented, his voice now also sounding dangerously close to Ignis’ situation. “They eliminated one of the most awkward conversations in human history.”

Noct hummed in agreement as the noises of the TV hit the room. Prompto cheered and then the sounds of the two gamers settled on the apartment.

When the noises coming from the boys were grunts, shouts, and explanations that would’ve made any well spoken individual cringe and no longer intelligible words, Ignis deemed them invested enough in their game for him to start his escape. On top of this, Galdio had texted that he was less than five minutes in his estimated time of arrival. Ignis huffed silently and set his eyes on the bedroom, mere feet away.

The journey to the bedroom wasn’t a long one but it wasn’t one that Ignis would ever want anyone to see him perform and not one he wanted to perform again himself. Although it was almost comical to see that he could slip past the boys without their knowledge due to their distraction. He lay on his belly and slid himself neatly across the wooden floor a good portion of the journey. The remainder of his mission was merely going the rest of the way without being seen. He crouched at first, creeping along like some common criminal. Once he was near the door however, he was forced to reassess his situation. The door was open but only just enough for him to slip through if he stood. Eyes never leaving the boys, Ignis slowly inched himself to his full height. Noct stood at the same time, shouting at the TV and tossing his remote off to one side. Unfortunately, the side that was closer to Ignis. Prompto was laughing at the prince’s tantrum and teasing him relentlessly. Noct, vowing revenge turned to pluck his remote off the floor.

Ignis had never prayed harder in his life that he would remain unseen. Or turn invisible. Or that the floor would swallow him up. Instead, it was the well timed delivery of the pizza that saved him. The doorbell was the diversion Ignis needed to slip to safety. Once in the bedroom, he forced himself to ignore the mess that was taking over the prince’s personal space. He pulled out his phone.

In Noct’s bedroom, near the window. Gladio texted back a few minutes later.

Here. What’s the plan? Ignis sighed before sliding the window open and peering out. Gladio was standing below him, looking up with an amused expression. Noct’s window wasn’t very high off the ground, Ignis had no doubt that he could make the jump and role the landing to prevent injury. Assessing the height once more, he nodded.

I’m going to jump, stand back. Gladio’s eyebrows rose and he looked up at Ignis then pocketed his phone. Ignis nodded and pulled his long limbs through the window. He took a deep breath and then pushed himself off the edge; only to land in Gladio’s arms.

“What in the Astals?!” He gasped. Gladio grunted and deposited his catch onto his feet.

“What? You’re wearing nice clothes. Didn’t want you to ruin them.” He shrugged and began to wander back towards the street and their get away car. Ignis followed, grumbling and straightening out his outfit.

----

“Gladio!” Noct and Prompto looked up from the campsite at the squeak they hardly recognized as Ignis’ voice. The Shield was holding the Advisor in his arms while the thinner man struggled.

“Nope! You’re going to rest or I’m going to tell Noct and Prompto about the ‘Exam Escape’.” The two boys blinked, whatever the ‘Exam Escape’ was, it made Ignis freeze in his attempts to free himself. He stared at Gladio with wide eyes,

“You wouldn’t.” Gladio cocked an eyebrow,

“Not if you rest.” Ignis groaned and resumed struggling,

“I can walk myself to the tent, thank you!” Prompto and Noct exchanged expressions and shrugs.

#ffxv #ignis scientia #gladiolus amiticia #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #fanfiction #My writing

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leahxx129 · 4 years

Text

The Last Descendant (Sam Winchester x Reader) pt.1

The idea for this fic series was born many-many months ago and I even started writing it then, but I ran out of inspiration. Now I’m fully charged and almost done, so I’m going to start posting the chapters. If everything goes as planned, there will be five parts. I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary for pt.1: You are after a vampire but when you finally get the chance to eliminate him, a stranger unintentionally sabotages your plans, almost getting both of you killed in the process.

Warnings: decapitation, implication of sex

Word count: 1.780-ish

* picture source: Giphy

It’s almost midnight and the bar you are in is thriving. Loud piano music and raucous laughter fills the air besides the smell of cheap booze and smoke. It almost makes it hard for you to concentrate, but just almost. After all, you are you and if there is one thing you are damn good at, it’s keeping an eye on the target no matter what. And tonight, your target is a vampire. Your muscles tense up in your body as he finally signals to the chick he was hitting on to get out. You wait a couple of seconds before you start following them. The chilly air outside awakens you even more. You take a left turn to the alley where you’ve last seen the golden locks of the girl he was with and you get hit by something huge and heavy – to much of your surprise a man has been thrown at you like a rag doll.

„Oh, he’s got a partner!” the bloodsucker says in a way too loud and cheerful tone to your liking, given your head is still slightly buzzing from the impact. „Back in the days, hunters picked their partners more carefully, sweetheart!” he adds sarcastically „The idiot came at me with nothing but his bare hands.”

You can hear his footsteps getting closer and closer so you gather every ounce of strenght in your body and push the moaning man off you. Just as you get up, the vampire grabs you by your throat and lifts you up, your toes barely meet the ground.

„You know… you’re fairly pretty for a hunter.” he breathes as his teeth start descending. „You’re gonna make an exquisite corpse.”

„I’m… I’m n-not… a hunter!” you manage to spit out while clawing at his fingers for air.

He draws his eyebrows together in confusion, slightly loosening his grip, which allows you to pull the hidden machete out of your overknee boots. Before he could react, the blade glides over his neck effortlessly, but not deep enough to decapitate him. He immediately lets go and stumbles backwards, choking on the venom that’s invading his system. A small smile forms on your lips. The blade’s working. Honestly, you were quite certain it would, but in your line of work nothing brings more pleasure than getting proof up close. The blonde’s blood-curdling scream makes you realize she’s still there.

„He’s not human, girly! I ain’t gonna do anything to him he doesn’t deserve.” your reassuring speech doesn’t seem to comfort her at all, which results in you losing your patience and starting to yell „You know what, just get out of here! Move! NOW!!”

She never stops sobbing and trembling but does as you command her. With her gone, you turn back your attention to the vampire. He’s fallen to his knees, still choking. You can see the fear in his eyes - the kind you only see when they know they’re gonna die - and it gives you satisfaction.

„You know… you’re kind of not that ugly for a monster.” you give him a taste of his own medicine „You’re gonna make an exquisite headless corpse.”

A fraction of a second later his head rolls by his body and stops somewhere beside the dumpster.

Your mind is racing. Killing him on spot wasn’t exactly how you planned the whole ordeal. You wanted to follow them to the guys apartment, wait for the girl to go home, and get done with it there. The body would have been discovered days later and by then, you would’ve been at least two states farther... If you do a sloppy job and leave evidence the whole thing could be traced back to you and you definitely don’t want that. Your train of thought is disturbed by the man who landed on you. He seems to have gained conscousness and tries to get up. Boiling anger spreads through your veins as you stride to him and yank him up by his jacket, not being intimidated by the fact that in vertical he’s a lot taller than you.

„What the hell were you thinking, dude?! You almost got us both killed!” just as you finish your sentence the strong smell of alcohol hits you right in the face „Ugh, Jesus, man! Is there anything in that bar you didn’t drink??”

He shrugs, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles to ’water’ when the idea breaks through.

„Do you have a car, Abercrombie?” He nods. „Great. And do you have the keys as well?” Another nod. „Awesome. Where did you park?” He starts off but almost instantly trips in his own leg. If it’s not for you, he’d end up flat on his face. „Woah, woah… take it easy, buddy! You know what, just give me the keys and I’ll get the car. You wait here.” you extend your hand to him.

He eyes you up and down suspiciously but ends up handing you the keys anyway.

„It’s an Impala a… a block away… be careful with her. She’s my brother’s car.” he grumbled in a deep voice. The raw emotional expression on his face takes you aback and you comply, something which you rarely do.

„Okay… I will.”

You can’t help but smile at the room service guy’s awkardness as he puts down the breakfast you’ve ordered in front of you. Your satine bathrobe is a little too low cut and a little too short, which of course doesn’t escape his notice. The small pink blotches on his cheeks give him away instantly.

„Thank you, hotstuff!” you say winking when he’s finished serving. The compliment cathces him off-guard and he lets out a nervous laughter, then turns to leave, almost knocking off a vase in the process.

The door closes and you make a mental note to tipp well when you check out of the hotel. You’re definitely not a snob, but if you have a chance to choose between a run-down motel room or a hotel, it isn’t really a question. You can afford it, so why not? You pour yourself a huge cup of coffee, go over the bed and pull the curtains apart to check on Mystery Guy. Still comatose. Alright. You get back to the dining table and start to consume your meal when Mystery Guy begins to groan.

„Mornin’ Abercrombie!” you greet him as he’s scanning the environment squinting. His eyes pop wide open as soon as they land on you. Naturally, his first intinct is to search for his gun under his pillow.

„Lookin’ for this?” you swing the gun around your pointer finger. He pulls a face as he rubs his temple. „You see, I thought it would be your first move and I don’t like being pointed at with a gun, so…”

„You took it. Of cousre you did...” he tries to sit up but groans as pain shoots through his body.

„Easy, pal! You had what I’d call a rough night, I’m even surprised you’re in a condition to speak.”

He furrows his brows.

„Why? What happened last night?” a thought hits him and he checks under the covers. „Did we..did we uh… is that why I’m naked?”

You’re trying your best not to burst out laughing.

„You mean did we have wild and kinky sex and that’s why every fiber in your body is aching?” he nods shyly. „Nope. I’m not the reason for that, sorry. However, I am the reason that you are alive and kicking right now.”

„Care to ellaborate?”

„Sure. Last night you got so hammered that you went after a vampire without a single weapon. He was about to rip that pretty face of yours off, but then I stepped in and saved your bacon-”

„Speaking of… who’s that ’I’, exactly?” he interrupts.

„Very subtle... My name’s Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. You weren’t a man of manners either, Abercrombie, so I’d appreciate a name drop as well.”

He seems to blush a little at your pet name for him.

„It’s Sam. Sam Winchester. So now you can stop calling me Abercrombie.”

You almost choke on your coffee. There is no way in hell... You saved Sam Freaking Winchester’s ass?

„You’re bluffing.” you finally manage to vocalize.

„No, I’m not. Why would I?”

You eye him for a while. He’s right. Why would he lie about something like that? From what you’ve heard, everyone around the Winchesters has a tendency of dying too soon and no sane man would want to pose as a death magnet by claiming he’s one of them if he’s actually not.

„Okay. Well then, I gotta say… you and your brother made yourselves quite a name amongst hunters. Although not everyone’s a fan…”

„Really?”

„Yeah. Rumor has it that you saved the world multiple times but only because you were the ones who almost brought an end to it multiple times.”

He swallows hard.

„Do you believe these rumors?”

„I don’t judge people based on stories I hear, Sam, I judge people based on their actions I see.”

He nods in agreement.

„Anyways, let’s get back to what happened last night. After I’d saved you, I got your car and put the corpse in the trunk – which by the way is still there – and since you couldn’t really tell me where you were staying at, I brought you here. During the ride you leaned in and started smelling my hair. Insisted it smelled like vanilla and strawberries. Then you wanted to puke out the window, but it wasn’t even rolled down, so yeah…That’s still there too.” the horrid look on his face earned a small laughter from you „Wait, this isn’t even the best part yet. When we got here it took me fifteen minutes of begging to get you in the shower and when you finally finished, you came out of the bathroom in your birthday suit.”

„You’re joking, right?!”

„Nope, I can’t say I am. But don’t worry, I’m a lady, I didn’t look.”

You can see the redness of embarrassment creeping to his face.

„God, I’m so sorry. This is humiliating.”

„Relax, it can happen to anyone.”

An awkward silence falls to the room, neither of you know what to say next. You want to ask him why he went after the vampire drunk but decide against it. It’s non of your business after all and you don’t want to get involved. The blade is working, your job is officialy done in this town. You eat the rest of your eggs and bacon in silence, then go to the bathroom and get ready to leave. Sam watches you curiously as you gather your stuff from the room and head to the door.

„There’s aspirin and water on the nightstand for your hangover and there’s some breakfast on the table. The room is going to be paid for for today so feel free to stay and rest a little.”

„Thanks, Y/N. For everything.”

„Yeah, you’re welcome... oh, and the next time you’re on a hunt, try not to get yourself killed, Winchester.”

„Okay, will do!” he shoots you a shy smile as farewell.

#Sam Winchester #sam #supernatural #SPN #spnfic #fanfic #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #series #pt1

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loverspersonas · 4 years

Text

liability | ii

pairing: ot7? x reader

genre: spy au, grisha reader, angst, drama, fluff

length: 6k

summary: She’s known as the Wraith, a destructive member of a notorious intelligence organization. When a mission goes wrong, she runs into a rival group, BTS, and is offered a choice that could change her whole life.

↳series masterlist

It was bright.

The ceiling lights were white and blinding, the way they were in hospitals sometimes, glinting off the glass on the opposite wall. You were thankful the walls and floors at least were a darker gray or that would’ve really hurt your eyes. You shifted in the hard chair you were sitting in, only to notice the metal handcuffs pinching into your skin.

Well, shit. Your captors had been smart to restrict your hand movements, or making an escape would’ve been easier. You didn’t try to pull at them again. They only seemed to get tighter, and it was no use anyway.

The door opened all of a sudden and in walked a tall man with short ash blond hair and tan skin, dressed in a long brown coat. His eyes were framed with clear glasses and he seemed so perfectly ordinary, almost like a young college professor. But nothing about this setting, this investigation room, was ordinary. Nothing ever was in your line of work anyway.

“So,” he spoke after taking the seat across from you. Even his voice was normal and friendly. But you didn’t fall for that anymore. “Rose, is it?”

You gave him a long, hard look and turned your face away. He was unfazed by the action.

“You joined GOT7’s division of the organization JYP when you were nine years old, after your parents died. You’ve trained with them since, becoming what’s known to our world as the Wraith.”

Good for him, you thought dryly. He could memorize words from a file.

“I’m RM.” Still no response. “Let me guess. Only your friends call you Rose.”

“I don’t have any friends,” you said before you could stop yourself.

RM seemed a little satisfied that you were talking now, if not even curious by your first verbal response. “No, I don’t think you would. Most people in your line of work don’t have time for such trivial things.”

“My line of work?” you echoed. “You mean, yours too?”

He shook his head. “What we do is different from what you and your organization does. Our mandate is to protect people and information. To help society even though they don’t realize it. We don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.”

“Neither do I.”

He leaned back a little like he was taken aback. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to. And it’s not entirely your fault. Your superiors kept information from you—“

“Why am I here?” you cut him off. You were annoyed and angry, because it felt like he was attacking you for things that were out of your control. “So you can tell me that what I’m doing is wrong?”

“I’m giving you a choice,” he said slowly, watching your features contort from suspicion to surprise. “It’s been a while since anyone’s given you that, hasn’t it?”

You didn’t look at him. You didn’t want him to know that he was right. You swallowed hard. “Doesn’t matter.”

“But it should.” He sounded so sincere, like he believed in what he was saying. But then, those were the most dangerous kinds of people. “If you help me, I’ll help you.”

“Help me?” you asked incredulously. “How can you help me?”

“Starting with that collar around you. The one they put on.”

Your hand instinctively went for your neck and the glossy silver choker you were wearing and had been for as long as you could remember. If you thought about it for too long, the memory of the electric shock almost transformed into reality and it was like you were burning again. Realizing that RM was watching you, you quickly dropped your hand in an attempt to show that you didn’t care, but it was too late for that.

“Don’t you see, Rose?” he asked. “They’ve chained you, branded you as their property. But what they didn’t see is that you’re more than just a weapon.”

How can I be more, when that’s all I’ve been my whole life? you thought. There was this visceral longing inside you. A longing that you never dared to feel anymore. Because all it ever brought you was misery.

Your voice was scratchy when you spoke finally. “I don’t know about that. I don’t… I don’t think I know anything at all.”

He looked at you with something like sympathy, though you weren’t sure. You could read pity and hatred from miles away at this point, but not sympathy. Emotions that weren’t cold and indifferent were rare sights back with GOT7.

“I want to help you.”

“Why?” you demanded. “What’s the catch? Do you expect me to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

RM didn’t look angry like the way someone back in your organization might’ve reacted. In fact, he was waiting for you to start asking the right questions. “All right. We need intel. And it just so happens, you’re a direct source to GOT7 and JYP.”

“You want me to be your spy.”

“Of sorts. I want you to work with us.”

“Us? You mean BigHit.”

“My team, more specifically. The alpha team. We’re called Bangtan Sonyeondan, but you probably know us as BTS.” You did, but you didn’t want to admit it. While BigHit was a notorious organization, BTS was the most notorious of all. You couldn’t count the number of times your team had talked about them. Not in a good way, of course. More so in a want-to-destroy-them way. “We’re just one unit in the entire organization.”

“And you’re in charge?” you asked. You knew you were being somewhat reckless, because if the stories were true, people like BTS were known for catching and eliminating people like you. But you had to take your chances. Because if the stories were true, there was a chance you weren’t walking out of here alive. “So, tell me, RM. What happens to me if I refuse?”

“To you?”

You rolled your eyes, used to people underestimating you. “I’m not stupid. I don’t just get to walk away from this. Not without consequences.”

He gave you a thoughtful look. “You’re right. You’d be walking away, knowing you had a chance to do something different for a change. You’d be making a choice for yourself, rather than acting on someone else’s. So really, the only consequence you’d be facing here is regret.”

At first, you waited for him to add something else and when he didn’t, you couldn’t help but grin, amused. “Is that how you’re planning to convince me? By appealing to my better nature?”

He wasn’t deterred by your attitude. This whole time, he’d been quite straight faced in a way that made you think he was very good at concealing his true emotions. You were never as good in that area, at least not when you weren’t on a mission, playing the role of someone else. In this room, you didn’t know who to be and you were afraid he could tell. “Perhaps out of the goodness of your heart then.”

That was the first time someone had referred to you like that. You chuckled lowly. “What heart?”

RM tapped his fingers on the table lightly. Maybe you were trying to see how far you had to go to get a real reaction from him, to see his shield break and for everything inside to be painted clearly on his face. “Did you know there’s a tracking chip in the collar you’re wearing?” A roll of your eyes told him that you did know. “And at the casino, do you know why it was activated?”

“It was a malfunction—“

“No,” he cut you off. “It wasn’t.”

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. If the collar hadn’t malfunctioned, then someone had purposely activated it. Someone from GOT7.

“If you help me, I’ll give you something in return.”

You tried to push down the feeling of betrayal, not wanting RM to know that he’d gotten to you. “What, revenge? I don’t need anything from you.”

“What about your family?” he asked. “How much do you actually know about them? About yourself?”

You froze, your gaze fixating on the glass wall across from you. It was a two way mirror. You wondered if someone else was watching this, listening to your conversation. Could they see your mind turning over and over, searching through the corners of your memory for something about your parents? Because in the faint blue reflection in the glass, there was a girl with long, red hair and ivory skin, and you could see her trying to find those memories.

Somewhere there, there was an outline of a woman, a whimsical voice calling you Rose, the warmth of being tucked into bed at night. But it was too far away, lost in the darkness.

“Do I have your attention now?”

Your gaze shifted to him, your voice and features hardening. “You’re lying.”

“No,” he said, tilting his head a little as he studied you. “And I think you know that too. I don’t have anything as of right now. But I have people on my team who are experts for this sort of thing. So, Rose. You need to make a choice. How badly do you want to know who your parents are?”

“Hey, there.”

You jumped in your seat, instinctively reaching for anything you could get your hands on before coming to face whoever had interrupted you.

“Woah,” the chestnut haired boy said as he raised his hands in alarm. “It’s just me. Please put the screwdriver down.”

Eyebrows furrowing from confusion, you followed his gaze to realize what you’d grabbed from the table. In the seconds that followed, you remembered the table, and the room, had been practically empty. It was when you noticed the metal box full of small metal parts and tools did you realize he’d brought them with him. Slowly, you set it back down, still eyeing the boy cautiously. “You’re afraid of a screw driver?”

“I’m afraid of what you could potentially do to me with a screwdriver,” he corrected, shrugging with something close to embarrassment. “I’m not trained like the others.”

Maybe it was his reckless honesty that made you admit, “Neither am I.”

His eyebrows scrunched up before he drew out a laugh. To you, it was the sound of bubbling sunlight. “Right. You’re only the most lethal asset that JYP has ever had.”

“No,” you said quietly, turning away from him. “Not like that.”

Despite having gotten a change of clothes— black pants, a shirt and some leather boots—the metal choker was still there. You were glad to get out of the dress from the night before though. At least, you assumed it had been the previous night. Your sense of time had really taken a hit.

The boy’s eyes fix on the collar resting around your throat. “Well, maybe I can help with that.”

Only when you heard the sound of tools clinking did you look up, just in time for the boy to take a step closer to you. You jumped back in your seat instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” he assured you. “I know what I’m doing.”

“What—”

Before you could stop him, he’d already reached out to inspect the collar. Your first thought was to blast him away. RM had removed the handcuffs, but with the collar, you remembered that you couldn’t do much, not unless you wanted to get electrocuted again. His fingers touching your skin made you want to squirm, but you resisted; it didn’t look like it was his intention to do that to you. In fact, he seemed quite oblivious.

“Hmm,” the boy murmured to himself. “That’s interesting. Haven’t seen technology like this before.”

“So, you can’t get it off?”

He looked up at you, for the first time with confidence instead of the cheery and awkward boy who’d walked into the room. “I didn’t say that. I like a bit of a challenge every now and then.” He grabbed something similar to a screwdriver and a small tablet, but hesitated before bringing the sharp object closer to you. “Can I…?”

You bit your lip as you glanced at it nervously, but then nodded. It took a few minutes of tapping on the screen of his tablet and some turns with the screwdriver and at some point, you thought he’d overestimated his abilities, but then you heard the unmistakable sound of the metal collar unlinking. Your fingers went for your neck and felt the bare skin there left pink and sore after so long of wearing that thing.

Releasing a huge breath, you turned to the boy only to see that he was quite interested in studying the collar now in his hands. “This is some high tech stuff. And dangerous. The amount of current it can send is enough to probably paralyze— oh.” He turned around slowly to look at you again. “That’s why they made you wear it.”

You would’ve noticed the sad way he was looking at you, but you were more focused on the fact that JYP’s literal hold on you was gone. RM was right in that sense. They had chained you and coerced you into doing what they wanted until you no longer needed to be coerced. Everything you’d done this far started out because of them. But did that mean everything that followed was your fault?

“Hey.” You blinked, your eyes focusing on the boy in front of you. He noticed that you’d zoned out, but didn’t comment on it. “So, now that that’s out of the way, let's go.”

“Go where?” you asked, puzzled.

“To eat,” he said like it was obvious. “It’s dinner time.”

He paused near the sliding glass doors, motioning for you to follow him which you did end up doing eventually, deciding that it was better than just sitting there with no information about where you were. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as the two of you walked down the hall. He kept talking about whatever door appeared in your path, not aware of the danger he was in just being in your presence.

He was smart. He had to be. Not anyone could so easily play with GOT7’s technology like it was their school’s science project. He had to know just what you were capable of. So, why wasn’t he running?

“What’s your name?” you asked suddenly, cutting him off.

He wasn’t offended. In fact, his face broke out into a smile. “I’m Hoseok. Bangtan’s official hacker and tech guy. Although, I also like to dabble in cryptology—”

“Bangtan? You work for RM?”

Hoseok frowned slightly. “I work with him. Maybe with GOT7, things were like that, but around here, we’re all a team.”

“You all?” you asked. Your mind flashed back to the casino and the boy with the gray eyes from the elevator. “How many of you are there?”

“We’re a unit of seven,” he answered as they went on walking. He seemed like the kind of person who might not realize that not every detail needed to be said. Things were on a need to know basis, especially when information could literally get you killed. Maybe that was why he wasn’t a field agent. “There’s RM, who’s kind of like our spymaster, so he’s usually in charge. Jin, our medic; Suga, our sharpshooter; then our field agents who each specialize in different areas: V, Jimin, and Jungkook.”

You tried to absorb all the information, but you weren’t required to doing things like that the way Hoseok probably was. You knew RM, but the other names didn’t have faces to them. And the only name you wanted to know was the one who’d helped you back in the casino.

“They were all there, weren’t they? At the casino.”

Hoseok nodded. “Our team was assigned there. To infiltrate—“ He looked away awkwardly. “Ah, I shouldn’t reveal everything right away. At least, not on an empty stomach.”

You stopped in front of a set of large glass doors, glass that was most definitely bulletproof like every door and window you had spotted so far. You wondered if it was built to withstand a power like yours. He typed in some numbers on the holographic keypad—too fast for you to actually memorize any of it.

With another smile, he gestured forward. “After you.”

You glanced inside. You were able to see some hanging chandelier lights over a long wooden table set with a running tablecloth and candles like in a home decor catalogue. Why was there a room like this in this kind of facility?

Taking the long period of silence as hesitation, Hoseok stepped forward first. “There’s no need to be shy.”

Rather than just standing there still, you had little choice but to follow him inside. It was a dining room of some kind, you concluded. And through an archway, a kitchen. On the other side, a living room area set with sofas, rugs, and a flat screen tv. Two people were sitting in front of it, playing a video game. The two boys you’d run into in the casino while searching for the shipments.

“So which one of you just lost at Mario Kart?” Hoseok asked.

“Jimin,” the brunette with the rounder, younger face said. He sat cross legged on a bean bag chair. “For the tenth time in a row.”

The pink haired boy, Jimin, scowled, throwing his controller at the younger one. “I didn’t lose. Jungkook here was cheating.”

“Throwing a red turtle at you is not cheating,” Jungkook argued. “That’s how you win.”

“Of course, you'd say that, you cheating bastard—”

“Anyway,” Hoseok cut them off, finally stepping to the side so that you appeared in their line of sight. “You guys remember Rose. Rose, this is Jimin and Jungkook.”

The two boys practically jumped from their seats, staring at you with wide eyes, but not like you were a bomb about to detonate. There was definitely surprise evident in their features, but not alarm like you were a danger to them. Little did they know, you thought, just how dangerous you could be.

“You were there.” It was you who finally broke the interminable silence, your voice somehow only raising their shock. “I remember seeing you at the casino.”

Jimin cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact he, and Jungkook, had been holding for some reason. “Yeah, that was… that was us.”

“We didn’t know if you were still here,” Jungkook admitted, his eyes falling to the carpet almost shyly. “We thought— well, we thought you’d leave.”

You gave a small shrug. “So did I.”

“All right, which one of you ungrateful assholes ate the salmon I left in the fridge?”

You turned to see a new face enter from the kitchen area. This boy was a few years older than the others, who you guessed were about the same age as yourself. He was tall with broad shoulders and ears turning pinker as his anger rose.

“Why do you always assume it was us?” Jimin demanded. “J-hope is standing right there, you know.”

You must’ve made a confused face, because Hoseok leaned closer to you and whispered, “That’s my codename.”

As you nodded, Jimin looked at him in surprise. “You told her your real name?”

“I haven’t been in the kitchen all day,” the hacker pointed out to the angry boy, ignoring Jimin. “And I’ve been with Rose for the past hour.”

The older boy’s expression morphed as he acknowledged the person in the room who was out of place. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. These idiots have just been driving me crazy today. Not that that makes today any different from other days. I’m Jin, by the way.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply when Jungkook opened his mouth. “Yeah, you’re always so quick to blame us. What about the others? They’re conveniently not here right now. You know how much Suga likes salmon. Maybe you should ask him about it.”

“Ask me what?”

The boy who appeared from the hallway was shorter than Jin, but his presence seemed to make up for it by the way Jimin and Jungkook pressed their mouths shut. His gaze swept past them until they landed on you who could only stand there and stare back. You didn’t want to show that you were intimidated by him even though his eyes seemed like they could cut through you like glass. This must be the sharpshooter, you guessed.

“Uh, Rose, this is Suga,” Hoseok said, trying to fill in the sudden discomfort.

Suga didn’t say anything as he continued to study you, his head slightly tilted to the side. You knew that calculating look. He was sizing you up, searching for weaknesses, anything that was potentially threatening. By the way the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, it looked like he wasn’t so impressed. And that made something in you start to boil.

“So what was it you wanted to ask me?” Suga asked, his attention reshifting to the previous conversation. You hoped he found that more interesting than you.

“Someone ate all the salmon,” Jin said accusingly as he folded his arms over his chest. “That was supposed to be dinner.”

Without even hesitating, Suga deadpanned, “Which one of you was it?”

Both Jimin and Jungkook cast him offended looks. “I get that you guys like to blame us since we’re younger,” Jungkook began, “but how come no one’s paying attention to the fact that two people are missing right now?”

“Exactly,” Jimin agreed. “Where are RM and V, huh? Perhaps they’re downstairs enjoying a lovely salmon fillet while we’re all here arguing, completely oblivious of their ingenious plan.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Jimin. You think my plan’s ingenious.”

It was unmistakably him. You watched as the gray eyed boy moved inside the room from the doorway. He was grinning faintly, his hair just as long and dark as you remembered. But now you could tell that his features weren’t just soft; his face was angular and chiseled like a sculpture. If you’d already been introduced to everyone else, this must have been V.

“I’m afraid to admit then that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” V told them. He stopped in his tracks as his gaze fell on you, morphing into recognition and something else. He opened his mouth slightly, like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. You knew that feeling too.

“Then I guess it had to be RM,” Jungkook said, his voice fading into the background. Strangely, it seemed like you and the gray eyed boy were the only ones in the room.

Finally breaking eye contact, V looked away from you, and when you blinked, it was like blinking back into reality. “RM is in a meeting right now.”

“He won’t be joining us for dinner then, I presume,” Jin said with a small sigh.

“What’s the meeting for?” Jimin asked.

The second V hesitated, Suga decided to speak. “What do you think? The entire operation blew up. There has to be a shit ton of reports and things to fix and cover up.”

Jungkook winced. “Was it really that bad?”

Hoseok gave a half shrug. “Well, I mean the target did get away.”

“But we prevented the shipments from getting into the wrong hands, didn’t we?” Jimin said. “And a potential massacre. The whole casino could’ve been blown up.”

“It could’ve.” Suga’s eyes flickered over to you. “At least we managed to get the bomb out of there.”

This time, you didn’t bother to hide your annoyance. “What did you just call me?”

“Suga,” V warned.

The raven haired boy just shrugged. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. I mean, what’s stopping her from doing the same thing right now that she was going to do last night?”

He was right about that, at least. You were ready to flick your wrist and fling him into the wall just to hear his bones crack. That was just a start.

“If I’d had any say in it, I wouldn’t have just let you go.”

“Well, you didn’t,” you spoke finally. To your surprise, you were coming off pretty calm, relative to the anger surging under your skin that you were trying to suppress. “So it seems to me that what you think doesn’t matter.” You saw his eyes flash with anger, but you didn’t care. “But if it makes you feel better, you’re right. I could blow this place up faster than you can blink.” That wasn’t completely true, but you didn’t need them to know that.

Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes widened while Hoseok gulped nervously. Jin didn’t seem as outwardly scared, but you could tell by the way he shifted that your statement had put him a little on edge. The only one besides Suga who didn’t react with fear was V. He gave a small sigh, shaking his head to himself.

“Suga, this isn’t necessary,” he said.

But the sharpshooter’s focus was on you, as dangerous as if he was pointing a gun at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“And what if I am?” you said recklessly.

V stepped forward abruptly, his hand on Suga’s shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Suga looked like he had to force himself to remove the glare he was directing at you. With V, he shared a brief glance, nonverbal words being exchanged between them. Whatever it was, it somehow made Suga relax enough to put aside his anger.

Jin cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway. Besides the salmon, dinner is ready.”

You sat between Hoseok and Jungkook. Hoseok was someone you still didn’t quite trust, but was more comfortable around, and Jungkook seemed harmless despite being professionally trained in combat; he could hardly make eye contact with you without looking down at his hands all flustered. You’d consciously avoided sitting next to Suga, who was some seats away from you, and V, who was across from you.

The others had helped Jin set up the table. There was roasted potato, vegetables, butter rolls, kimchi fried rice, and a chicken dish. He’d apologized about having to reheat leftover chicken since the salmon was still missing, but you had said there was nothing to apologize for. All of it looked and smelled heavenly to you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a good meal like this, something that wasn’t flavourless soup and dry bread.

You watched as the boys began piling their plates, passing dishes around the table while talking and laughing. Hoseok glanced your way shortly before starting to load your plate with potatoes. “There’s no need for formalities here,” he said, shooting you a friendly smile.

You made an attempt to return the smile, but was aware that it probably seemed a bit strained. “I just haven’t done this sort of thing before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured around him with a hand. “This. Sitting together, eating… like everything’s normal.”

He chuckled. “Well, nothing about us is normal, really. Nothing about you either. But that’s okay here. Actually, that is kind of our normal.”

You noticed the way his face lit up as he gazed around the table at the people he considered his friends. It was a luxury you’d never gotten. “How long have you been here?”

He pursed his lips, thinking. “Well—“

“He’s been here longer than me,” Jimin answered. Apparently, he’d heard your question, and now the rest of the table turned their way too. “And I came to BigHit when I was around thirteen.”

They were kind of like you, you realized. They’d gotten roped into this sort of life since they were still kids.

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Hm?”

“How old are you?” Jimin repeated, chewing on his roll. “You seem pretty young.”

So do you, you wanted to say. “Uh, I’m twenty two.”

“Oh, you’re the same age as Jungkook. He’s kind of the baby of the group.”

Jungkook scowled at him, but his cheeks were pink. “Am not.”

Jimin ignored him. “The rest of us are in our twenties too. Jin is the oldest.”

“I think that much is obvious,” Jin said. “Your maturity level next to mine is like nothing.”

“Jungkook and Jimin’s maturity level next to anyone’s is nothing,” V joked. As the rest of them, besides the two mentioned boys, laughed along with him, you found your gaze drifting towards him. He seemed to fit in so well here in this place with people who wanted him. You could feel a part of yourself ache on the inside, and you wondered if it was because that part longed to be wanted too.

“Rose.”

It was Hoseok’s voice that shook you from your thoughts. “What?”

“You okay?” he asked. “You’re kind of zoning out again.”

“I’m fine.” You were glad he didn’t continue to push it. But from across, you could feel another set of eyes burning into you and looked up to see V staring back at you.

“Great, everyone’s here.”

The table came to a quick silence as they looked to see RM enter the room. The way the atmosphere shifted showed that they all really respected him, despite being around the same age. You noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore, revealing the weariness on his face. A part of you wondered what exactly had happened in that meeting. He took a seat at the head of the table.

“How was the meeting?” V asked him.

“That’s what I’m here to talk about.”

“Maybe this should wait,” Suga suggested, eyes darting briefly to your figure. “Wouldn’t want sensitive information to get in the enemies’ hands.”

To your surprise, it was Hoseok who came to your defence. “Really, Suga?”

Before the sharpshooter could respond, RM was talking again. “Rose stays. She needs to hear this too.”

You turned to him in mild surprise, which was nothing compared to Suga’s astonishment. A younger, more immature part of you wanted to gloat but decided that now wasn’t the best time.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asked.

“As you know already, GOT7 wasn’t the only team at the casino last night,” RM explained. “There are others after the same thing. The value and demand of ashe is increasing every day, and that puts more pressure on us. We know that EXO ships the drug, but we don’t know who’s making it.”

“What if we follow EXO?” Suga asked. “They could lead us to the ashe.”

“We’ve tried that already,” Hoseok said, shaking his head. “EXO never keeps the drug at SM headquarters, possibly at one of their warehouses. It looks like they get it delivered from another source.” His voice became quieter, almost embarrassed. “Which we haven’t been able to track.”

“So, the problem is that we don’t know who makes it,” Jungkook summarized.

“What would that do?” Jin asked. “How do we know other organizations don’t have the means to make it?”

“Because then its value would go down,” V answered. “And it wouldn’t be such a big deal for everyone to try and get their hands on. And as far as we know, that hasn’t happened.”

“Or maybe that’s what they want us to think,” Jimin mumbled.

Jin studied RM’s expression. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

RM sighed. “While the shipments were being transported to one of BigHit’s warehouses last night, they were intercepted. We presume they made it to where they were intended to go and are now available to the public from the top companies and dealers.”

The others glanced at each other in surprise and consternation. “What are we up against at this point?” V said like he was thinking out loud, but had also voiced everyone else’s thought.

“That’s what we need to find out,” RM said. “And that’s where Rose comes in.”

Jimin frowned, looking around the room to see the others’ similar expressions. “What do you mean?”

“We couldn’t figure everything out because we didn’t always have the means,” he explained then looked over at you. “But now we do. Rose is a direct connection to GOT7, for starters.”

Suga scoffed. “Exactly. She’ll report back everything we’re saying to them if we just let her go.” You rolled your eyes at this, though no one noticed. “Look, RM, I know you call the shots, but seriously, did you really think this one through?”

You were expecting RM to glare or shout or just react in some form of anger, but he was more composed than you thought. “I know it sounds risky. But we’ve exhausted all possible options. We weren’t getting anywhere further.”

More than angry, the way Suga was looking at the leader was one of betrayal. And it reminded you a little of yourself when RM had revealed to you that a member from GOT7 had compromised you. “What happened to consulting us before making big decisions?”

“This was kind of a big decision,” Jimin agreed reluctantly. “We could’ve talked about it, at least.”

“I know,” RM said. He didn’t sound apologetic, although maybe he was inside. A leader didn’t apologize for their decisions. You’d learned that by now. “But the board has already agreed, and want us to get to work immediately.”

Suga shook his head, and chuckled darkly. “If this ends with all of us dead, don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”

When he got up suddenly, the table shook and startled you. No one tried to stop him, but a few did exchange nervous glances.

“I should go talk to him,” V said quietly. “Try to get him to calm down and see things a little more clearly.”

RM nodded at him as he left. You didn’t expect any of them to like this idea. You didn’t like it yourself, but you didn’t have much of a choice. You were hoping the rest of the team would understand that and possibly not make it more difficult for you. That was why you were glad that V didn’t seem to be completely against the idea.

Jimin was biting his lip before he met your eyes. “Why did you agree to help us?”

Your lips parted, taken aback and not expecting such as a question. Thankfully, RM filled in for you. “We discovered that someone from GOT7 didn’t have Rose’s best interests in mind. So I made her a deal. She helps us in exchange for her freedom.”

You frowned slightly. Why didn’t he tell them the whole truth?

RM could sense Jimin’s hesitation. “I know it sounds risky. But Rose isn’t just a normal operative agent. She’s the Wraith, capable of doing so much more than us.”

“That’s exactly what Suga was saying,” Jimin told him. “If she has these abilities—that we don’t even fully understand— if she can do more than us, can we really trust her?”

You didn’t know why, but his words almost stung. You’d heard that before. You’d been marginalized and cast aside because of what you could do that no other human being could. People were scared of what they didn’t understand. You shouldn’t care what they thought, and maybe you didn’t. But you needed at least some of the team to somewhat accept you if you wanted answers.

“You’re smart not to.” Jimin’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise when you started talking. “I wouldn’t trust an outsider either. But I’m not asking you to completely trust me, or even like me. The reality is that someone at GOT7 betrayed me; I can’t go back there, and I don’t want to. So, we have a common interest now. I want to find where ashe is made, and who makes it just as much as you do.”

“Why does GOT7 want it then?” Jin asked.

You shrugged. “The same reason anyone wants it. Money, power. If they had control over the most highly demanded and expensive drug in the country, they’d have so much of both. Every company would look to them. They would get to call the shots.”

“And you? Is that what you wanted?”

You looked away from him after some time, unsure of yourself now. It felt strange that ever since coming to Bangtan, you were being given options from everywhere after so long of just following orders. Truthfully, you didn’t care much for money or power, not the way some of your team in GOT7 did. You’d rather they find ashe and the creators and put the entire thing to rest. Ashe could just become another everyday drug, an ordinary topic and this chaos would come to an end.

“No,” you answered finally. Your voice was firm, but what was underneath was something more vulnerable. Because you’d never been asked before about what you wanted; you’d never gotten to think of yourself. “But it didn’t matter what I wanted.”

You felt a pair of eyes shift towards you, and you could just tell that Hoseok was looking at you with sympathy. Jimin, however, was contemplative. You’d gotten him to think, but he was still wary. That was okay though. That was just a start.

“I believe you.” To your surprise, the quiet voice came from the boy sitting beside you. Jungkook was still seemingly uncomfortable making direct eye contact, but he nodded assuringly before looking to the others. “I think RM is right. We have information and resources we didn’t have before. We have to give it a shot, at least.”

RM met Jungkook’s eyes and nodded at him. In the short exchange, you saw the older boy’s face soften. It was clear that despite being the leader and older than him, RM cared what Jungkook, and the others, thought. It was strange how you could only tell something about him through his interactions with his team.

“I think that’s all for today,” he said. “Hoseok, will you show Rose where she’ll be staying?”

The hacker nodded mutely before standing up and moving towards the door. He didn’t say anything to you, but you assumed you were to follow him. Even minutes later when the two of you were in the elevator, he didn’t say anything, which you thought was a bit uncharacteristic, despite just meeting him some hours ago.

“Sorry,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I was just thinking.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you or I’m mad at you,” he went on. “I just—I’m worried what this decision is going to mean for the team.”

What you were going to mean, you thought. It was already clear what your presence was doing. Suga hated you, Jimin didn’t trust you. What if being here would only do more harm than good?

“I’m not trying to cause drama,” you began. “I know that I’m not like you guys.”

Hoseok frowned. “What do you mean?"

“One of the good guys. And I won’t try to be something that I’m not. But I made a promise, and I’m going to stick with it."

There was a longer silence after that, but you weren’t bothered anymore. Eventually, Hoseok stopped in front of a door. “So, this is your room. A bunch of us are just down the hall, the rest are on the other side…” His gaze was moving from here to there, like he was trying to figure out what else to say. “I guess if you need something—“

“Yeah. Got it.” You wanted to punch yourself for coming off as too blunt and unemotional, because this was the kind of person who seemed to be the opposite. And he’d probably been the nicest to you out of everyone. But this was how you were trained. And if you were going to be working with any of them, that was how it should be.

He gave you a nod and halfway smile. “Well, good night.”

chapter i // chapter iii (coming soon)

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etherian-affairs · 5 years

Text

Rescue Mission

The continued Etherian adventures of Mirak and the Horde United.

OC Story but Perfuma is here this time.

Mirak was angry. Very angry. The sort of anger only her people could know. At least presumably. Lesser species could get angry but Mirak was relatively certain that like all other emotions they felt it was a less impressive form of anger. Second Officer Cass sat nearby, watching the seven foot tall death dealer pace in their little hidey hole. Mirak was growling and cursing under her breath. A thousand combat scenarios playing through her honed mind.

They had lost Tim.

Well Tim had been captured. By Princesses no less! Flower princesses! Couldn't they tell his emblem was white and not red?! Ridiculous! Rude even! Now Tim was probably being tortured for information he doesn't have! Unacceptable! Tim belongs to Mirak! He is HER Lizard Man! Only she gets to torture him!

She has to pause to hold her breather to her mouth and take a few clean breathes. After so many without it the air really begins to hurt.

Lavender eyes, ablaze with rage, shoot to Cass, who leans back in a notably wary fashion. "Yeah?..." The human asks. Her own brown eyes showing the slightest hint of fear, her pulse visible on her neck.

"We're getting Tim back. Tonight!" Mirak declares!

"O-okay... How though... Last we saw they were taking him back to Plumeria... Like the actual... Town? City? Autonomous collective?" Cass momentarily confuses herself and honestly Mirak has no idea what Plumeria was either from a technical standpoint.

"kingdom!" She hisses out anyway. "and it doesn't matter! We're getting Tim! We'll infiltrate!" Yes! That was a good plan. A stealth mission. Mirak had much experience in those. In getting in and out of places she should not be in. Of removing people in those places from existence.

"... Um..." Cass begins. "Okay but... and I mean this respectfully. You're a seven foot tall bat creature that looks like Lord Hordak." She points out.

That was a potential problem at first glance. In space this was usually solved with her sleek black stealth armor and bad lighting but on Etheria all she has is her cobbled together gear and ridiculously good cinematic lighting. Luckily Mirak has thought this through! She had run the scenarios! Her brain was honed for these sorts of things by decades of training and indoctrination and even a fair bit of eugenic breeding and cybernetic engineering.

Mirak pushes away the little voice in her head telling her that she needs both physical and psychological maintenance very badly. Preferably before her unstable psyche and modified body suffer breakdowns. There is a mission to finish.

So instead her lavender fangs glint in the low light of the small hideout. "Don't worry little Cass, Lady Mirak has a plan."

Cass's complexion goes pale.

...

It was a good plan, Mirak's plan. Her plans are often good. This was of course due to the fact that she thinks of them. Currently the defacto leader of the Horde United was skulking in the trees at the edge of Plumeria. The sun was almost done setting and her goggles could be off for a change, letting her eyes be free!

The fact said eyes give off a very visible lavender glow was of no concern to Mirak. People tend to not notice that until it is too late for them.

Cass had been sent on her daring infiltration mission so now Mirak needed only to wait for the signal.

It was simple, elegant. Cass would head into Plumeria posing as a simple traveler and ask for a place to stay the night. Then when the pitiful sleepy Etherian natives found themselves too tired to stay awake Cass would go search Plumeria for Tim's location. Upon locating Tim she would signal for Mirak by making a specific series of clanking sounds with some pans in her gear which Mirak's superior ears would of course pick up without issue.

Then phase two would begin, Mirak would light Plumeria on fire and they would get Tim. Simple and elegant, as previously said. Efficient too.

'When in doubt, burn it all down' as her old academy instructors would say.

Mirak waits in the shadows for what must be hours. The sun goes down. Music picks up in Plumeria. They're not sleeping... This is a problem.

Etherians are weak sleepy things! They should be sleeping!

A change of plan is required. That's alright, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy after all. Mirak shifts in place, readying the makeshift flamer she had cobbled together. It's an objectively dangerous device, made out of a stun baton, a scavenged pump, and skiff fuel. It looks liable to blow up if used. She will use it to ignite the immediate area, drawing the Plumerians out to fight the fire. Then she will light them on fire as well.

Fortunately before she can unleash her righteous fury upon the Princesses and their evil trees, or just blow herself up with her makeshift flamer, Mirak's sensitive ears and night honed eyes pick out someone approaching! An Etherian woman! Tallish for them. Blonde. Flowers in her hair.

Disgusting.

"Hello?" Said Etherian woman speaks up, foolishly making herself known to anyone who might not have already detected her! "Um... I was told a Mirak would be waiting out here?"

A Mirak?! The only Mirak here is Mirak herself. This could only mean one thing... They got Cass, and are so effective at plant based torture that she immediately gave up the details of the plan! Of course she did, Cass is a little pathetic thing. Cute but not nearly as capable as Mirak or Tim.

Improvise Mirak! Improvise!

Mirak returns the flamer to her back and reaches for her hip to pull her spare stun baton up. Firing a ranged blast will alert anyone else searching. She can't run on her bad legs but if she waits her long stride should let her close on this pathetic search party of one quickly enough and eliminate her relatively quietly. The Etherian doesn't seem to have any weapons after all. A strange oversight.

"I was told by Tim and Cass you were out here? Waiting to rescue Tim? My name is Perfuma and I wanted to invite you in to Plumeria, and apologize for the misunderstanding."

Mirak hesitates! A new development?! No... It must be a trick...

Suddenly the alien warrior surges out of the brush as fast as her poorly constructed legs can take her, raising her baton and snarling. Perfuma looks stunned, eyes wide, freezing in place. No doubt the terrifying visage of one from the same species as Lord Hordak charging causes a moment of panic.

Then suddenly.

"Oh there she is." It's Tim! That's Tim's voice! Coming from her left flank!

Mirak doesn't stop her charge however! She can eliminate this princess then talk to Tim!

Unfortunately a vine that definitely was not there a moment ago trips Mirak and she tumbles over.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Tim told me you would try to kill me and that I should trip you because you have terrible feet made of scrap metal." The Perfuma creature sounds apologetic. A clever ruse. "oh my you are quite frightening though..."

More important than whatever Perfuma is saying is that Tim is a traitor. Mirak looks over to him from her place on the ground. Gauging if she can get a shot off on him and get up at the same time. He's standing in his armor, a ring of flowers on his head. He waves with one hand, biting into a fruit with the other. "Hey Mirak. I told them what was actually going on and they let me go. I knew you'd come to get me so... I've just been waiting."

"We do apologise. We did not realize the significance of his emblem being white instead of red."

Mirak looks back and forth between them before she slowly stands up. Deciding not to shoot Tim. "How can I be sure this is not some elaborate ruse?" Mirak asks with suspicion.

Perfuma's eyes are wide again, staring up at the creature before her. Mirak could probably lunge and get a bite in on that long neck before Perfuma could do any more plant trickery.

At least if she didn't have her breather on.

"It's not!" Suddenly Cass! She's approaching too! Way to go Cass, big help you were. "They're having a party and Tim was just hanging out there. Really worked out for us!"

There is a tense moment as Mirak hmms and thinks this through. Then she deactivates her baton and holsters it. "So you were not tortured Tim?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little?"

"Not even really weak torture."

Mirak's brow furrows. Strange. They had him for hours. Mirak would have started torturing immediately!

Perfuma finally seems to regain her composure. "Um... If you promise to remain nonviolent we would be happy to welcome you to Plumeria. You are fellow rebels after all." She smiles.

Mirak looks at her two compatriots who are nodding enthusiastically.

"Very well. We shall see what sort of hospitality Princesses can give us!" Mirak Huffs! She's heard her old Madame Huff before and it feels right!

Perfuma claps her hands together. "Wonderful! I am sure everyone will be interested in seeing you as well. The children will love your ears!"

"What?" Mirak stares dumbfounded. Tim and Cass both snicker.

...

It's not a bad night. Mirak gets to terrify some people. There's music and some dancing. Mirak acquires a cool piece of wood to use for a future maker project. Also she learns that apparently she qualifies as a 'maker' and should apply for the makers guild.

Mirak will probably not be doing that.

Also there's fruit. She's not huge on fruit, preferring meat and blood, but it's okay. It's food. Tim and Cass seem quite happy about it.

Maybe Princesses aren't all bad. Some definitely can remain un-cremated.

For now.

#my writing #my OCs #she ra OCs #mirak #lizard man tim #horde soldier cass #mirak's etherian adventures #perfuma

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wickednerdery · 5 years

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Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Spellbound Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Thor & Tony Stark (& Mutant!OC) Rating: Teen Summary: “Loki...Is it a person or item?” Notes: This is back to when Loki was taken away here. This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy (the first is FrostBitten) - the master list is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece itself - which starts Thor’s main story - is actually tame aside from some yelling, cursing, and poor Thor moments. Still, for consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.

It is Odin who tricks Thor away from his brother, leaving Loki unprotected and easily taken. It is Odin who induces forgetfulness and spreads it through Asgard like a poison. The king works his magic to make it grow so that throughout the realms, in time, Loki might be forgotten completely. Like Hela before his adopted son would become nothing but a story, a mere fantasy; no one and nothing true. Odin would put distance between himself, his family, and his unfortunate error once again to save his pride and crown.

By the time Thor returns to the rock there is nothing there but smashed rubble and the faint sense of urgency. He’d come to the edge of the grounds for some reason, an important task, but the answers are all behind a fog. Earnest eyes scan for answers, for questions, something beyond kicked up and bloodied dirt.

His mother’s lullaby hits his ears and he turns back, up, to the palace. With placid face and knowing smile Frigga hums and, as Thor watches her, she changes before him. Deep blue dress turns green and gold. Long blond hair smooths into shoulder-length black and her whole form changes. The woman looks wholly recognizable, yet Thor cannot place the man she’s become. “You must find him, Thor. Save your brother. Protect Loki.”

“Loki...” Thor repeats the name heard only in his mind; it feels right. Real. He looks around, as if he might find this Loki nearby, before looking back up to catch sight of his mother walking back into the palace. “Loki....Loki...Loki...” The god repeats the name over and over, keeping it foremost in his mind, as he hurries to Heimdall’s observatory. “I must find a Loki, what can you see, Heimdall?”

The man narrows his eyes, ticks head slightly. “Loki? I’m afraid I do not know this word. Is it a person or item?” If he has a clearer idea of what he’s looking for, perhaps he can find it.

“I...” Thor clung to the name, but forgot its meaning. He tries to recall his mother (this Loki is tied to her, is it not?), then smiles. “I believe it is a being.”

Heimdall nods, closes eyes to concentrate, but there is nothing. Only tenuous threads he cannot weave into anything substantial and even those fray before his very mind’s eye. “I am sorry, Thor, but I can find nothing.” It was so very usual, very strange. “Perhaps it’s something to do with your time on Midgard?”

“...Perhaps...”

“Shall I send you there in search of answers and this lost...thing.” Heimdall himself’s already forgotten what they’re in search for.

“Yes, I shall go to Stark’s.” He cannot say why he picks Tony except he’s the smartest man Thor knows of on Midgard. And, if this...Loki...was a dangerous thing Tony would most certainly be prepared and ready for battle beside him.

“Very well, my prince, I shall send you directly,” Heimdall bows his head and, in a moment’s flash, Thor is at the end of Stark’s long landing pad at The Avenger’s Tower.

Not even leaving his lands can stop the disintegration of Thor’s memory though; not even reaching Midgard can protect him from his own father’s magic. By the time he reaches Stark, lounging on a deck chair, his face’s fallen to confusion. ...What has he come to ask again?

Tony’s brows rise in alarm, then fall in the wait for Thor to speak. “You alright there, Point Break?”

“I’m sorry, my friend.” Thor knows he needs help, but the reason, the trouble, is fogged from him. It’s something distant, unattainable, but very true and very real. “I...I came to request your aid...only now I’ve forgotten why.”

“So you came here to ask for my help...” Tony’s stands, examines his friend more closely. “But can’t remember with what?”

"I cannot,” Thor confesses with a sigh, running hand through hair, twisting hammer in the other. He can remember years, centuries. He has a god’s memory, how can he forget something he is certain recently occurred?!

“You hit your head on the Bifrost or something?”

Eyes fall to despair. “No.”

“Uh....huh...” He didn’t think gods could get amnesia, yet here was Thor, a god, standing all amnesiac before him. “Look, buddy, how ‘bout we go inside, have a drink, and see if we can’t figure this out, yeah?”

“Very well, my friend.”

Tony lets Thor follow as his mind begins to gather what little facts there are and formulate theories. Whatever is going on, it’s powerful enough to mess with a god’s mind. That said, Thor seems of sound mind and, potentially, with solid recall aside from whatever he needs help with. So what are they looking at here? Injury? Infection? Something else entirely? Tony skips the bar in the penthouse for the one down in his workshop and let’s Thor settle on a nearby chair as he pours for both of them - definitely need a drink or two before opening whatever can of worms this is.

“I adjusted the coding and cleared out the spare bugs from your latest suit, Stark.” The voice itself is almost robotic, but Thor sees clearly the being is flesh and blood. Back to them, hunkering down over a series of computers, he catches feminine eyes in the reflection of one of the screens. “That Thor?”

“Yeah,” Tony tips back his first drink, pours his second, as Thor takes his first. “Lynk, this is Thor, Thor,” he points to the person’s back. “Lynk with a Y...my tech assistant.” Pepper will always run most of his stuff, but Lynk has certain, unique, abilities that makes her utterly invaluable to him in his work.

Thor smiles. “Greetings, fair maid.”

“Yeah...No.”

Thor’s face falls. “No?”

Lips lift, but focus remains on the computers. “I’m not a fair maid, Mr Odinson. I’m just Lynk.”

“You may call me Thor, if you wish.”

“Okay then, Thor. I’m still Lynk.”

Thor looks to Tony, unsure, but Tony just shrugs and finishes his second drink. “Okay, so this thing you need help with...”

“Yes?”

“Let’s do process of elimination.”

“Very well.”

“It have anything to do with Earth?”

“...Not directly, I don’t believe...”

“Asgard then?”

“Maybe.”

“You personally?”

“…I...in a way, perhaps?”

“Family maybe?”

Thor’s pause is especially long, his heart and mind arguing for an accurate answer. “I...I believe so.”

“Parents?”

“They are not the issue...but maybe connected to it?” His mother turned into it, hadn’t she? Yes, yes she had, but...but Thor cannot recall what she’d turned into anymore.

Tony sighs, now presuming the whole thing a giant waffling by the god. “Fuck. if it’s Loki just say so, Thor. I’m still unlikely to help, but at least I’d admire the boldness of asking directly.”

“Wha-? Who...Who is...Loki?” And why did it sound so familiar and yet not at the same time?

“Loki, also known as Loki Laufeyson or Loki Odinson, is the God of Mischief and listed as a top-tier intergalactic terrorist by S.H.I.E.L.D.. His attempts to take over Earth resulted in the destruction of Manhattan and countless deaths. Captured by The Avengers Initiative he was turned over to his brother, Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, to be returned to Asgard where his punishment would be set by the King of Asgard, Odin Allfather.” The young woman’s turned to them both, face showing a mix of concern and interest. “You can’t remember your own brother?”

She is slight, pale, with spiked, jet black, hair and many bits of metal in her face...Thor cannot recall seeing another like her on Midgard. He smiles in spite of his current predicament. “You know him?”

“Of him,” Lynk clarifies. “I was lecturing in Boston when he came to New York, but I watched the news. Question is, why don’t you?”

“Maybe it’s Loki himself doing this?” Tony offers. “It’s not beyond him, right? Take out his brother, escape, rally some troops, come back at Earth again.”

“You’re making assumptions without basis,” she counters flatly.

“My basis is I know the guy. I’ve seen what he can do, first hand.”

“Why give his brother amnesia then send him in your direction?”

“Distraction? Shits and giggles? How should I know.”

Lynk’s eyes switch to Thor. “We need more data.”

Thor has no issue with basic or advanced memory tests, brain scans show no clear injury or disease, and nothing can be found in his blood that would suggest a cause for his amnesia. Both Tony and Lynk remain stuck, unsure what to test for next, as Thor lays on the table looking up at both of them.

“Do we know why I’ve forgotten what I’ve forgotten?” Again Loki’s existence has slipped from his mind, but not the urgency of the need to help, to get help.

“No,” Tony sighs; Thor frowns deeply. “But I’m starting to guess some kind of magic, which leads us back to Loki.”

“Who?”

“Are you sure you actually need help, Thor? Or do you just...feel like you need it?”

“I need help, of that I’m certain.”

Lynk looks down. “With...or for...your brother, Loki, yeah?”

The fog thickens. “I…cannot recall.”

Tony rolls eyes in frustration, convinced this is some elaborate trick by the God of Mischief. He wants no part of it; better to hunker down, fortify, with backup plans for when Loki’s true scheme is ultimately revealed. “This is probably all just a big fucking hoax.”

“It is not a hoax!” Thor flies up, roars his own frustration, as sparks crack across the metal table. The need to accomplish a goal he cannot recall has settled deep and sure in his heart even if his mind continues to betray him.

“Woah, hey there!” Tony’s thumb discreetly goes to his suit’s activation button as he and Lynk both jump back. “I don’t think you’re tricking me.”

“You think another is tricking us all,” Thor states firmly, hammer held out as if ready to crash. “I am not a fool, Stark, I know my own heart!”

“I might know someone who can help, Thor,” Lynk speaks up quickly, hoping to both placate and distract as she feels the machines around them shiver with the herself and Tony.

The storm in the god dies and he turns as hope blooms once more. “Truly?”

“He might be able to figure out what you can’t remember or, at the very least, maybe why you can’t remember.” She looks to Tony, who’s finally beginning to breathe again. “If it’s a trick by Loki, then you might know what he’s up to and, if it’s not...” She smiles at Thor. “Then maybe we’ll know how to help.”

Honest trouble or not, Tony had no interest in helping Loki. He still woke up in the middle of night, sweaty and short of breath, thanks to that asshole. Best not to piss of his friend, the god, though. “Sure, if you know someone who’s willing. Can’t hurt to try, right?”

“Right.”

Thor grins. “Take me to him now, fair Lynk.”

I legit feel bad writing Thor like this...in part because I know he already gets a bad wrap as sorta being the “slow on the uptake” one and I don’t think he is. That said, Odin’s clouding his - and everyone else in Asgard’s - mind from remembering Loki so it’s not like I can have Thor just putting it all together, haha! Frigga only does because she’s very powerful in magic herself. Lynk is a mutant - though there’s only a hint of her powers shown in this - and will be important to Thor going forward so...hope you like, lol! (And, damn, I’m prod of myself for getting two out relatively quick after the holidays so go me, haha! ^_^)

(Gifs found on Google, then combined by me)

Tagged: @succumb-to-your-king @chibiyanai @wadeyouwitch @creedslove @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7 @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @judas-nipples @hiddles-rose @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession @endlessstairway @lanabanana-86 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981 @lovekrystina @madoka73 @lokikingofasgardslover713 @partiallyinthecloset @ultrarebelheart @gravitational-anomaly @manip-loki @my-world-of-imagines @lowcarbgem …Think that’s everyone from FrostBitten, if you want on or off, just lemme know! (Strike-throughs are those Tumblr refuses to tag properly)

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butterflydm · 5 years

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The Magicians Revisited: 1x01 Unauthorized Magic

I’m doing the rewatch with @themagiciansrevisited and I’ll be watching along probably until 4x10, which is where I’ve decided my own personal canon for the show will tap out. And because my brain likes to keep track of things, I’ll be rewatching again on my own after each group rewatch and write out the things that stand out for me, that I might want to remember. This is v. long, so I will pop it under a read more.

Significant moments: The first character we meet is Dean Fogg, who comes onto a NYC street through a portal from a more wooded area (I think it’s the area outside Brakebills). The door closes behind him without him needing to physically shut it. He meets up with “Eliza” (making Jane Chatwin the second major character we meet) and says, “You’re late”, which is going to echo in the later first meeting of Eliot and Quentin (and which was itself mirrored in the first meeting between “Kim” and Todd in 4x01). Being that time loops and timelines are such an important part of the show, it’s interesting to me that the importance of timing is set up so soon. And… it’s also possibly a nod to The Lord of the Rings.

Jane’s brought Fogg evidence that the Beast is already active in this timeline (a huge-ass moth). The NYPost that he’s reading looks to be dated October 18, 2015, which tracks with when the first episodes came out. Part of the implication in this conversation is that Jane wants Fogg to rush our group into Brakebills even though they aren’t in place to have it handled yet.

Jane shows particular concern over ‘our boy’, which I think we can take as read is Quentin, given how Jane directs her attention to Quentin fairly pointedly and given that we’re going to cut to him after this scene. Looking back, it’s interesting to think about how this relationship may have evolved from Jane’s PoV. She must have recognized Julia and Quentin as the Witch and the Fool as soon as they were old enough and got involved in the very first timeline, plus it’s possible she figured out somewhere along the way that Quentin was also the old man who gave her the Time Key in the first place. There are four major characters who remember the time loops, after all - Jane, Fogg, Martin, and Ember - so I’ll be paying particular attention during their scenes to see what they may drop as a hint to what happened in previous timelines.

This scene also mirrors, to a certain extent, the introductory McGonagall & Dumbledore scene at the beginning of Harry Potter. I suspect that’s intentional, given the series’s future interest in deconstructing various fantasy storylines and tropes. So, we have two authority figures who understand what’s to come and they have been deliberately attempting to shape this younger generation into a weapon to wield against the enemy that threatens them (and that comes from their own generation).

Quentin is the next major character introduced to us - he is in the Midtown Mental Health Clinic, which has a nice view of the Statue of Liberty. He’s thoughtlessly doing magic tricks with a coin. The show then cuts between him checking himself out of the clinic with a scene of him at a party at his apartment. Julia is introduced by noticing Q looking out of place at the party, and then he bails to go hang out alone in a bedroom and read which… yeah, same, Q, same. We see his pills, a comic book, some other books: bunch of books on stage magic like card and coin tricks, and Plover’s books (at least two editions of the Fillory and Further series). As Q reads the first book (Fillory and Further: The World in the Walls), we get a visualization of them onscreen.

Julia and Quentin talk a little (and I’m going to note that she explicitly calls the Fillory books ‘obscure fantasy’, so not actually in the realm of Narnia or LotR) - she gives him a friendly kiss, and then Julia’s boyfriend James comes in and jokes about them having a threeway, which I did not expect to be foreshadowing and yet… Quentin will definitely have a threesome before the end of the season so, I guess it was. Unexpected foreshadowing!

The (dead) Yale interviewer had the clock from the Fillory books (or a replica? I don’t recall from further episodes if this is the real deal or not) in the place he was planning to interview Quentin. Huh, one of the dead interviewer’s eyes looks kinda like a fairy eye. We do find out later from Dean Fogg that the interviewer was a magician, so… hmm. This scene is very suspicious to me in many ways, in retrospect.

The manuscript that Jane gives Quentin is, officially, Fillory and Further; Book Six: the Magicians and it is dated Feb 1952. We learn that Julia is the one who got Quentin into the Fillory books in the first place and that’s why he learned magic tricks. They were both very into the books all through high school, but then Julia met James and she pulled away from them.

Next, it’s Julia and Quentin’s introduction to Brakebills! So, in most (though I suspect Jane tried cutting Q out of the equation at some point early on) of the previous loops, both Quentin and Julia would have gotten into Brakebills at this point, so after this is where we split from the general timeline to the differences in TL40 (for the students! Martin/the Beast is probably doing his own set of experiments each time he gets snapped back into a new timeline; especially different ways of approaching his ability to talk to Penny, I suspect).

When Q arrives, Eliot is, of course, posing in a gorgeous outfit. He was given a card with Quentin’s name and is waiting for him.

So, timeline thoughts: obviously, Fogg decides to set up Eliot and Quentin’s friendship early on, based on previous timeline experiences and whatnot. Given Jane’s worries about Quentin not being prepared enough, it does seem likely that Fogg decided to set up a mentorship-ish situation, since Eliot and Margo appear to get involved anyway in other timelines and since Margo’s a big Fillory fan, too. I’m going to see how Fogg reacts to them in later episodes to see if it confirms or counters my suspicions here.

When Eliot brings Quentin to the exam room, Penny is in the foreground of the shot and Quentin ends up sitting next to him. Julia is more in the middle of the room and (hilariously, from a P23-P40 perspective), I think I see Kady at a table in between Julia and Penny. Quentin sees Julia and they hug. I did not see Alice in the exam room, but there were several tables that had blonde girls at them, so maybe I just missed her.

Julia is told that she failed the test and will be sent home. “I can’t just go to Yale if this place exists” and she deliberately scratches herself before the memory spell is placed on her. Meanwhile, Q is given a deck of cards and told to do magic. He fumbles for a while, Dean Fogg puts some heavy pressure on him, and Q’s magic bursts out and then he collapses.

Q has a dream of talking to Jane in Fillory. Dream!Jane (real!Jane using a spell of some kind, I assume) name-drops the Beast and tells Q to “get off the garden path”. She wants him to try something new, because she knows that the previous tries have all failed spectacularly. He needs to do something different this time.

Q wakes up at Brakebills and Julia wakes up in her apartment in NYC, remembering everything and researching right away. Q talks to Dean Fogg. We learn that Brakebills is a three-year graduate-level program. So. Dean Fogg here is… hmm. He encourages Q to give up his meds. In the earlier scene, he deliberately preyed on Q’s fears (which he would know well from 39 previous timelines of experience) in order to provoke him into displaying a forceful burst of magic. We know that Jane is particularly worried about how much Q, specifically, needs to learn. Adding that together, and it does feel very deliberate that Fogg leads Q to believe that magic — that this school — will eliminate the need for his meds & etc., when we know from future episodes that this is very much not something that magic actually “fixes”. But he’s setting up Brakebills as the place that makes everything better because he wants Q to believe it. It’s also possible that he’s discouraging Q’s meds to create a certain level of emotional pain in Q to power his magic? Wow. That’s a dark thought.

Q and Penny are roommates. Q notices his F&F Book 6 is missing and is accusatory towards Penny, but before it can go further, Eliot comes to introduce Quentin to Margo. He’s told her that Q is cute and her opinion is “not that cute” but she’s friendly to him. We learn that first years stay in the dorms, and then once you know your ‘talent’, you get put into a house. The ones that Eliot lists out are: Physical Kids (where he and Margo are), Illusions, Healing, Nature, Knowledge (where Julia would have gone), Psychics. We also learn that there are only four students currently remaining of the third-year class, sixteen of them having disappeared along the way.

So, after all that, we go to Q’s first class and we see Alice for the first time (at least, that I could spot). She gets singled out to do a demonstration for the class and turns a glass ball into a glass horse. Also in this class, Kady meets Penny. They have an instant sexual connection and hook up right away. This is a definite deviation from timeline-23, at least, and if Kady only got into Brakebills because Julia was kept out, then that could potentially make Kady an overall wildcard. We know that the Great Cock in S3 knows about her, but I wonder if she was on anyone’s radar before timeline-40 happened. I’ll keep an eye out!

When Q finds out a little bit more about Alice from Margo and Eliot, he’s intrigued because he was very impressed by her spellwork. Margo and Eliot do not seem particularly interested in Alice one way or the other - when Alice leaves after Margo’s (debatably sincere) invite, they basically roll their eyes and shrug. Q tries to talk to Alice again later and she is definitely not interested in making friends.

Some time has passed, because James has sent Q several emails that he hasn’t answered. Julia hasn’t been eating or acting like herself, so James asks Q to come to her birthday party. Margo and Eliot overhear and immediately invite themselves along, because they have 100% adopted Q into their friendship already like damn. I’m kinda stunned over exactly how quickly Eliot and Margo decided that Quentin is One of Us. Eliot takes one look and is basically like ‘you’re cute, we’re keeping you’ and Margo goes with it in a way that she absolutely does not do with “Mike” later on. Eliot and Margo are the two people who are welcoming and encouraging to Q basically from day one and it just really stands out even more in a rewatch. Like Q has to go through some traumatizing shit with Alice, Penny, and Kady to start to develop any kind of bond, but with Eliot and Margo, he basically just has to show up and... be himself. And - this is jumping forward a bit but - they both mention later on that they genuinely like Q for his personality and his interests. Margo & El are stealth nerds and Eliot finds nerds charming in general, so they both just... like Q for who he is. It’s just so sweet and very adorable to see it already present in the first episode. They just like him. For the person that he is.

We meet future reoccurring hedge witch Pete at the party, briefly, as Julia goes ‘ugh no’ at first sight. Julia talks to Q in private and reveals that she remembers about Brakebills. The conversation goes badly, Q is not willing to help her with magic stuff, and he leaves with Ellot and Margo. Pete is a creep and scares Julia until she magics her way out of the trap and he invites her to join a non-Brakebills method of learning magic.

The next dream Q has about Jane Chatwin appears to take place at Rupert Chatwin’s grave (or just a monument to him? But I’m guessing grave). She warns him again not to just stick to the “garden path”. She shows him the symbol that he saw in Alice’s book and burns it into his hand, giving him a new reason to seek out Alice. Alice tells Q to meet her that night to do a summoning to contact the other side. Penny is drawn to go help Alice and Q, and Kady volunteers to join him. They do the spell and after they all leave the room, a smiley face is drawn on the mirror, ominously.

The Beast freezes everyone’s actions except their eyes, enters through the mirror. He kills a professor, is attacked by the Dean, defeats him but doesn’t kill him, and then spots Quentin. He calls Quentin out by name and starts to reach towards him and we cut to credits. That’s the scene that really made me go “woah, shit, this show commits” in my first watch-through. Specifically, it was the smiley-face that the Beast makes during that scene. I was like “did I just watch that happen?”, which a thought I have now had many many times over the course of future episodes as well. Sometimes for good and sometimes for bad, I suppose.

Magic: 1. Location portal (Dean Fogg travels through) 2. Portal to Fillory (described in F&F: the World in the Walls) 3. Clock in tree (spotted by Jane; placed by “the watcherwoman”) 4. Julia and Quentin getting into Brakebills (bushes vs elevator) and traveling to upstate New York 5. Magic exam test 6. (attempted) memory spell on Julia 7. Quentin makes the cards fly around the room after his exam and then builds them into a card castle before collapsing 8. Jane talks to Q in his dreams 9. The globes in Dean Fogg’s office sense magic, though they aren’t always right 10. Illusion work is used to keep friends and families of magic students from finding out they attend Brakebills 11. Lots of random practice magic from the students as Eliot and Margo give Q a tour 12. Kady floats during sex and make other things float too (including Penny) 13. Julia makes sparks happen at her birthday party 14. Pete uses magic to tie Julia up and scare her into showing her magic Julia breaks out of Pete’s trap 15. Q has another dream of Fillory and Jane Chatwin 16. Summoning spell with Q, Alice, Penny, and Kady 17. time freeze by the Beast, travels via mirror, magically kills a professor, takes Dean Fogg’s eyes

Relationships: Dean Fogg & Jane Chatwin: firm allies Quentin & Julia: best friends -> becoming estranged friends Julia & James: established relationship Quentin & James: friends -> becoming estranged friends Quentin & Eliot: early friendship/crush Quentin & Penny: bad first impression on both sides Eliot & Margo: best friends Margo & Quentin: early friendship Quentin->Alice: admires her talent Alice->Quentin: hostile -> becoming temporary allies Penny & Kady: immediate sexual/romantic relationship Margo & Alice: mutually unimpressed Eliot & Alice: mutually unimpressed Quentin->Kady: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Kady->Alice & Quentin: “losers" Alice->Kady & Penny: temporary allies Penny->Alice: admires her talent Jane&Fogg->Quentin&co: manipulative mentorship Pete->Julia: impressed with her talent Julia->Pete: creeped out

Obviously a certain amount of subjectivity in this but I call ‘em like I see ‘em.

Physical contact: Jane places the magic watch in Dean Fogg’s coat pocket and then smooths his clothes out afterwards. Julia sits in her boyfriend’s lap at the party. Julia touches Q’s leg, takes his book out of his hands, snuggles up to him, and kisses him on the corner of his mouth. James jumps on top of Q and Julia in Q’s bed when he’s joking about the threeway. Other people join in. Julia and Q press up against each as they walk to Q’s Yale interview, and she touches him on the back and then brushes his hair out of his eyes. Julia and Q sit pressed up together after finding the dead body of the interviewer and she’s somewhat loosely hugging him from behind. Eliot escorts Q into the exam room with a touch on the shoulder and back. Julia and Q hug in the exam room after the test. Margo pulls out Q’s tie when they’re introduced. Margo touches Eliot’s arm when talking about the third-year class and they stayed mostly pressed up arm-to-arm for much of the later conversation. Kady and Penny have sex, and then touch casually and flirtatiously in the walking scene afterward. Margo and Eliot hold hands as they run up to talk to Q when he’s on the phone with James. Eliot leads her by the hand at Julia’s birthday party. When leaving, they hug and spin around together. James hugs Q, and then Q hugs Julia. Pete touches Julia’s face when she’s trapped by his spell. dream!Jane grabs Q’s wrist and presses his hand against the summoning symbol. Q touches Alice’s shoulder when he’s trying to tell her about the symbol burned into his hand. Alice holds his wrist to look at the symbol and then pulls him along by the wrist so they can talk more privately. Penny takes Kady by the hand when they leave. Penny and Kady are playing around/holding hands in class when the Beast arrives. The Beast pulls out Dean Fogg’s eyes and bites him? headbutts him? so that he falls. Bites him, I think. WTF, Martin?

Character Notes: Dean Fogg: mint green shoes Jane Chatwin: Martin was her twin; Rupert was her older brother. She was ‘the family skeptic’. Described by Fogg as a ‘scout; freelance, sort of’. Quentin Coldwater: Checked himself into Midtown Mental Health because he “couldn’t concentrate, eat, or get out of bed” and the “feeling of not belonging anywhere was overwhelming” and being “the most useless person who ever lived”. He was planning on selling his Fillory first editions on Ebay. His father lives in Jersey. Martin Chatwin: “gloomy nature” (as claimed by Plover) Rupert Chatwin: wounded in “the war” (WWII) Charlie Quinn: Died five years ago at Brakebills, so 2010 Julia Wicker: Was going to go to Yale for a business degree.

Students: “Missing 3rd year class” students: there are only four students in the current third year class, with sixteen having gone missing. I’m not certain exactly how many we end up accounting for over the course of the season (at least Victoria and Josh but there might be more), so I will keep track of that, too. But, for now, we have the nameless four remaining. Known 1st year students: Q, Alice, Penny, Kady. Dean Fogg mentions “I’ve got another twenty-four of you today”, which sets the class size at 25 minimum (if Q is the first new student he talked to) Known 2nd year students: Margo, Eliot

Timeline Notes: Oct. 2015: Dean Fogg meets with Jane Chatwin to discuss this current time loop. “Not Tuesday”: Quentin is checking himself out of Midtown Mental Health and mentions he has a Yale grad school interview on “Tuesday”. Tuesday: Julia goes with Quentin to his Yale interview, but the interviewer is dead. Jane is posing as an EMT and gives Quentin the unpublished Fillory and Further sixth book. Quentin starts some new meds. Tuesday Night: Quentin and Julia are pulled into Brakebills for their exam (and it is day in Brakebills) Wednesday: Q is at Brakebills; Julia is back in NYC. Q gives his new meds up to Dean Fogg. ~undisclosed amount of time passes~ Julia’s birthday: Q, Eliot, and Margo attend ~undisclosed amount of time passes~

Ways the Loop-aware Messed With Our Kids: 1. Julia was kept out of Brakebills 2. Eliot was sent out to bring Q in to take his test 3. Q and Penny are roommates in the dorms 4. Jane burns Q’s hand to encourage him to seek out Alice 5. Jane tells Q that Brakebills isn’t the point and he has a greater destiny

#TMRevisited #The Magicians #tmwk1 #long post #text post #keeping track of things

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captaincanarygotmelike · 5 years

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Fic: Doors Open ch. 1

A while ago my lovely friend Gabby asked me to expand on the Unconventional universe and nearly two years later, here we are. This is part one of eleven (maybe, we’ll see). Anyone unfamiliar with the series might want to check out the original fic here, bc this might not make a ton of sense (or don’t, you do you).

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Nothing particularly exciting happening during the first year Elsie was on the Waverider.

She got acclimated to the timeship (both Sara and Leonard thought she made the switch to the future remarkably well) and to her new family. She was truly loved on the Waverider, even managing to grow on Rip — he had initially been unsure about Sara and Leonard’s decision to adopt the little girl from the 1930s, however, as he watched Elsie’s relationships with her parents grow (and when he saw that her removal from the thirties didn’t destroy the timeship) he couldn’t ignore the benefit she was bringing to the team. They all enjoyed having Elsie on the Waverider. She added an element of fun to the dynamic amongst the team.

She played dress-up with Kendra and Ray, Jax was teaching her how to play football just like he promised, even Mick had a soft spot for her. Early on in their time on the Waverider, Mick had proven to have quite a knack for cooking, and since Elsie’s arrival, the two had taken to making meals for the team together. She would sit on the metal counter and watch him chop vegetables, and he would always let her stir ingredients together with a big wooden spoon — he even let Elsie stir things on the stove, even though Sara always told her no.

During a brief shore-leave a few months after Elsie moved onto the Waverider, the team returned to the present time and Sara and Leonard introduced their daughter to their families. They legally adopted her on that visit as well, and she officially became Elsie Lance.

“Lance?” Lisa had repeated when they told her.

“The Snart name dies with me,” Leonard had replied, answering her confusion.

“Unless I keep my name when I get married,” Lisa then pointed out.

“That’s not funny,” Leonard had replied seriously.

Elsie’s fourth birthday came and went. They celebrated it on the Waverider with a big game of hide-and-seek that even Rip joined in on, and a trip to Pompeii to watch Mount Vesuvius erupt.

Not too long after, Kendra said goodbye to the team and they welcomed two new members: Nate and Amaya. Rip was relieved to see that Elsie had not become a distraction for the team, but a motivator. Sara had become less reckless on the field, but had lost none of her will or tenacity. Leonard had grown increasingly protective of his team, even the new members. They all seemed to work better together.

Even though Elsie attended all the team meetings and sometimes journeyed into the times they traveled to, she had never joined the team on a mission. That is, she hadn’t joined the team on a mission yet.

“Time to get dressed,” Sara said to Elsie as she walked into her bedroom, “Did you pick out clothes for today?”

“Uh-huh,” Elsie nodded, holding out a bundle of clothing.

“Pink jeans and a pink dress,” Sara commented with raised eyebrows, “Wow. Really?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” Sara let out a sigh as she shrugged, crouching down to help her get dressed.

“Miss Lance,” Gideon said as Sara helped Elsie pull off her princess nightdress, “Rip would like you to know that he has called a team meeting.”

“Okay,” Sara nodded, “Thanks Gideon.”

“Of course,” Gideon replied. Then she was silent.

“I wanna play with Kendra,” Elsie said.

“We’ve been over this,” Sara said, pulling the cotton dress over Elsie’s head and beginning to help her arms through the sleeves, “Kendra went back to the real world. Then Amaya and Nate came, remember?”

Elsie shook her head

“Yes you do,” she replied, “You played restaurant with them yesterday.”

“Oh,” she replied, gripping her mother’s shoulders as she stepped into the pants Sara was holding out in front of her.

“Ready?” Sara asked, once the pink jeans were pulled up and buttoned.

“You gotta do my hair,” Elsie said.

“I’m gonna do it on the Bridge during the meeting,” she told her, picking up a brush and several hair ties from the surface of Elsie’s dresser, “Let’s go.”

Elsie bounded out the door and down the corridors of the Waverider, Sara following at a much more comfortable pace.

The rest of the team was already at the meeting when Sara arrived; even Elsie beat her to the bridge, waiting for her in a metal chair.

“Miss Lance,” Rip said, “Thank you for finally joining us. Let’s begin.”

Sara crossed the room and sat in her chair next to Leonard. Elsie stood in front of her, leaning against her legs as Sara started to run the brush through her blonde hair.

“Here’s the plan,” Rip said, “Our latest adversary is taking refuge in the year 2025.”

“Hey, that’s close to our time!” Ray said.

“Yes, Mr. Palmer, it is indeed,” Ray nodded, “In 2025, he doesn’t pose any threat to society, but he is in something like a planning mode. He knows what he’s doing, now he’s just getting ready.”

“So what are we trying to do, exactly?” Jax asked.

“Figure out his plan so we can head him off at the proper moment."

“Awesome!” Nate said, “We’re gonna snuff him out before he burns!”

“Did someone say burn?” Mick asked, seeming to tune into the meeting just then, “I’m in.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Mr. Rory,” Rip said, “but we’re going to be doing this mission a little differently. Think early days, Raymond and Kendra buying a house in the fifties. Some of you will be scattered throughout the city. The rest will be posing as the occasional tourist when necessary, and parsing through the information we collect on the Waverider.”

“What happened to diving in and hoping for the best?” Amaya asked.

“Our success rate with that tactic dropped to a level so low it warranted a change in plan. We’re trying something a bit more strategic this time.”

Amaya nodded.

“So,” he continued, “Our new mission will be taking us to València, a coastal city in the south of Spain.

“We’re going to Spain?” Ray exclaimed, “Cool!”

“Yes, Mr. Palmer,” he said, “Our target is Sebastián Reyes. In 2025, he is thirty two years old, and within the following decade, he will become one of the world’s most dangerous people, joining the ranks with Ivan the Terrible, Robespierre, and Osama bin Laden.”

“What exactly is he doing?” Nate asked.

“What any man of his kind does: tries to eradicate what’s unlike him. For him, it is people under a certain tax bracket. It’s his opinion that a lack of money is the result of a lack of intelligence and poor decision-making. There are, of course, other factors involved, but his goal is to eliminate those who earn under a certain amount, take the money they leave behind into the government of Spain and therefore solve the debt crisis and leave more money for the remaining citizens, including, of course, himself.”

“Why are we only hearing about him now?” Sara asked as she wrapped a hair band around one of Elsie’s braids, “If he’s really this bad, why haven’t you ever mentioned him before?”

“Because, until recently, he didn’t exist — that is to say, he wasn’t the person he is now. Something we did in the last month or so changed his story and inspired some terrible actions from Mr. Reyes. We are going to València to fix it.”

“Who are you placing there more permanently?” Nate asked.

“I’m sending Jax and Martin straight onto the campus of the University of València. Martin will be taking up the position of professor of physics and Jax will be a graduate student in the biotechnology department.

“Do they have a good football team?” Jax asked.

“If by football, you mean the game with a black-and-white ball you can’t touch with your hands, then yes, I believe they do,” Rip answered, “To continue, I’m placing Mr. Palmer in the same apartment complex as our target in the hopes that you can get close to him and we can find out more about his day-to-day life.”

“Cool!” Ray said, “I’ve always wanted to be friends with a sociopath!”

He didn’t seem to notice the bemused faces the rest of his team shot him.

“The last group I’m sending in on a slightly more permanent basis will include Sara, Leonard, and of course, Elsie. You three will be placed in a suburban neighborhood a little outside the city. You’ll be posing as a family who moved to the area for work. I have a spot for Elsie in a preschool and jobs lined up for both of you — and I request that you both actually attend them please.”

“Hey!” Sara protested as Leonard said, “That’s fair.”

“The rest of us — Mick, Nate, Amaya, and myself — will be staying on the Waverider to parse through and organize all the information you collect.”

“When do we leave?” Jax asked.

“Tomorrow,” Rip replied, “I suggest those who will leave us start packing.”

“Where are we going?” Elsie asked her mother later that evening.

“We’re going on a vacation,” Sara answered.

“What’s a vacation?”

“What?” she asked absently, “Oh, right.”

Sara often forgot that Elsie had come from the 1930s. She made the jump to the futuristic setting of the Waverider very well, but part of that was because she was going from one extreme to another; her new home held no resemblance to her old one. It existed in a kind of bubble, separate from any particular moment in time, so Elsie still had some gaps.

“A vacation is when you go somewhere else besides where you live, just for fun. Some people go to relax and some go for sightseeing,” she explained.

“Where are we going?” Elsie asked.

“Spain,” Sara replied, “for a mission. Daddy and I will be working, so I guess it’s less of a vacation than actually moving there…for a little while. Daddy and I are gonna go to work and you’re gonna go to school.”

“School?” Elsie repeated.

“Yeah, like how Sofia goes to princess school in that show you watch. You’re gonna go to school and have a teacher and learn new stuff everyday with kids your age.”

“Cool!”

Sara was feeling cautiously optimistic about the mission, although she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twinge of worry about the sudden change in tactic. Rip wasn’t wrong in his comment about their previous few missions not going particularly well, but they always accomplished what they needed to. They had a routine: screwing things up before they made things better. Maybe it wasn’t particularly efficient, but it managed to be effective. Changes in their routine might not go over well, and this was the source of Sara’s anxiety.

Her main concern was Elsie, who had only ever left the Waverider for more than a few days at a time. This was her home, the only one she had known since war-torn Norway. Perhaps choosing this mission, one that would completely uproot her daily life, as her first mission wasn’t the best idea. However, Elsie didn’t seem too fazed by the prospect of moving to Spain for an indefinite amount of time, so Sara chose not to worry — or, rather, pretended not to worry.

Rip had told Sara and Leonard that, to spare them the inconvenience of furnishing an entire house, Gideon had generated everything they would need, down to the silverware and toys. All they had to worry about was clothes and any personal items that would be missed during their time away from the Waverider. Both Sara and Leonard had packed everything they needed into two boxes and while the latter began dinner (the chore wheel had landed on him that day, much to Leonard’s disgruntlement, as he thought he’d get to evade the job entirely for at least several months), Sara began going through Elsie’s clothes, tossing the ones more apt for warm weather into a cardboard box with Elsie’s name printed on it.

She hit a roadblock when she told Elsie to pick just a couple toys to bring with them to Spain.

“But who’s gonna play with them while I’m gone?” Elsie whined.

“Maybe Nate will,” Sara said, trying to hide her frustration, “You can’t take them all. Rip said there’s toys for you at the new house so, like I’ve said seven times, pick three and put them in your backpack. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

She turned away and headed for the door so she wouldn’t have to see Elsie’s pout (she made a mental note to make sure Leonard stayed away from her room for a while — if Sara thought she might cave, he certainly would).

Eventually Elsie picked her three toys — a stuffed elephant, a Rapunzel dress-up dress, and a set of markers that Sara traded out for a deck of rainbow playing cards when she wasn’t looking because she knew Elsie would miss them more (and they would be impossible to find in València because Gideon made them herself). The team ate dinner together in the mess hall (the last team dinner for a while, Ray realized sadly) and then Sara and Leonard let Elsie have dessert — blue popcorn, another one of Elsie’s farfetched requests neither Sara nor Leonard knew how Gideon accomplished — in their bed while they watched a movie.

“What happened to not letting her sleep in our bed anymore?” Leonard asked quietly, gesturing to Elsie who had fallen asleep about an hour into Bridge to Terabithia, curled up in Sara’s arms.

Sara locked down at her daughter.

“Yeah, wishful thinking, I guess,” she replied. She looked to him, furrowing her eyebrows when she saw an expression on his face that usually signified he was having some kind of internal debate, “What?”

He let out a sigh, “I just was wondering if this is a good idea. We never involved her in a mission before, never mind a new type of mission. We don’t know how this is going to pan out.”

“I know,” Sara nodded seriously, “I’ve thought about that too.”

When they decided Elsie should stay with them on the Waverider, they hadn’t been ignorant to the knowledge that having a toddler onboard the timeship during a mission to safeguard all of time would not be easy. Leonard and Sara had quickly agreed they wouldn’t bring Elsie on missions, not even simple reconnaissance trips — they had seen those go sideways — but that still left the concern of what to do with her when they had to be out on the field. More often than not, at least one person from the team wouldn’t need to go on the mission — usually Rip, as of late — and that person would watch her. Occasionally, however, a mission would require the efforts of the entire team. In that case, Gideon had assured Sara and Leonard she could make sure Elsie stayed safe.

Although those types of missions were few and far between, and nothing bad had ever happened during any of them (in fact, the Waverider hadn’t been attacked in a while — not since long before Elsie came onboard), Sara and Leonard still hated the idea of leaving their daughter alone on the Waverider.

“And I know we said we wouldn’t take Else on missions,” Sara continued, “but this is gonna be different. It won’t be like our normal missions where we, you know, kick ass and then get the hell out. It’s gonna be longer, more strategic.”

Leonard nodded his agreement.

“And,” Sara continued, “I actually trust Rip with this stuff. He’s a dad too. He wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger.”

“I know you’re right, but you know me, I get stuck in the hypotheticals. If something happens to her…” he trailed off.

“I know,” she nodded, “We’re just gonna have to be careful. If something bad does happens, we bring her back to the Waverider — and hey, bonus points: we get to hold it against Rip for the rest of his life.”

Sara saw Leonard smirk slightly.

“I should get Else to her bed,” she said, carefully shifting Elsie in her arms and getting to her feet, “Long day tomorrow; we’re moving to Spain.”

#legends of tomorrow #captain canary #sara lance #leonard snart #cc ff #mine

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meelsonwheelsies · 5 years

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KOTLC: A Robin Hood AU ~Chapter 2

A/N: I started this like a year ago, and my writing has progressed greatly since then. The first couple of chapters are rather poor, but since I am too busy to rewrite them at the moment I will just have to post them as is!

So, without further ado, here is chapter two!

Previously:

"A contest. Apparently, Prince Fintan is coming to Nottingham. Rumor has it that the Prince," Will said his name with disgust, "is concerned about the Sheriff. He's worried that the Sheriff isn't doing his job, so he's going to hold a contest to elect a new Sheriff."

"Who can participate in the contest?" Keefe asked.

"Any man of noble birth or rank," Will replied.

"Fitz, you could become Sheriff!" Linh exclaimed.

"No, I can't," Fitz said. "The Sheriff will recognize me. My status is broken. I can't exactly sign up as Robin Hood, either."

"I could do it," Keefe quietly said. "My parents were-"

"I'm not sure," I said in my deep fake voice. I've become quite good at mimicking.

"Why not?" asked Tam.

"The contest is extremely difficult. There will be a series of challenges, including brutal fight, swordplay, and finally, an archery competition," I listed. "If you won, you would be thrust under the spotlight of the Prince, who is working to eliminate Fitz."

"What if Fitz was disguised as a noble?" Linh thought aloud.

I shook my head. "It won't-"

"What if Fitz was disguised as a noble, but the noble would be someone we trust? If Fitz won the competition, then the noble could do the rest," Tam said.

We stared at him. "That's brilliant," said Keefe.

"I try," said Tam, smirking.

"But who would the noble be?" I asked, still skeptical. Though the plan had merit, I wasn't sure if we could actually pull it off.

Linh thought for a moment. "What about Lord Tiergan?"

"Yes," said Fitz. "I also knew him when I was younger. He wasn't fond of my father, but I could make it work."

"I can pass along the message," I offered.

"All right," said Fitz. "Just make sure that he's on our side. But we should have a backup, just in case. Who else?"

"There's always the esteemed Lord Erroll Forkle," Linh said. Tam snorted.

"That might actually work," I said. "He's known to be good friends with...a colleague of mine."

I mentally smacked myself. How did I almost blow my cover? Fitz was just so easy to talk to...snap out of it! He doesn't even know I'm a girl! I wish that-

"Lord Forkle it is, then," Fitz decided. Man, his eyes...

"Anything else we should know?" asked Keefe.

I hesitated and racked my brain. There was one thing they should probably know. I wasn't happy with the fact, either.

"Did I forget to mention that the winner also obtains Lady Sophie Foster's hand in marriage?" I said, unable to believe that I had just admitted the embarrassing fact.

Linh frowned. "Won't that mean that Lord Tiergan would have to marry her, then?"

I nearly gagged. What? How did I seal my fate with Lord Tiergan? Or worse, Lord Erroll? It was times like these when I was thankful that they couldn't see my burning face.

"No!" exclaimed Fitz, making me jump. "I mean, are you sure? Maybe they meant Lady Stina, or-"

"I'm positive," I sighed in despair.

"Why Fitz?" pressed Keefe. "I mean, I wouldn't want to force the marriage with Lord Tiergan on anyone, but what's it to you? Secret feelings for our lovely Lady? You know-"

"No, Keefe, I'm just worried that this would drive him away from agreeing," Fitz said softly while my heart sank. "We need this plan to work so badly."

Keefe took his hand and smirked. "Say what you want, lover boy, but emotions speak the truth every time."

"As much as I'd like to listen to your squabbles, I really do need to go," I said, cheeks aflame. "Do we have a verdict?"

"Yes," said Tam. "We can always steal the lovely Lady Sophie before she has to marry. Or, a marriage annulment could be instated. And besides, this is our best chance to restore peace to Nottingham."

"If I find anything else, I can't come here again," I said. People would get suspicious. Three times in one week was too risky.

"Can you transmit?" asked Linh.

"Well...yes," I said. "Who should I transmit to? It doesn't have to be a telepath."

"You could transmit to Fitz," said Linh with a sly grin on her face.

"That's fine with me," he said.

I nodded, trying not to look ecstatic. "If one of you ever needs something, transmit. Then meet me at the top of Lady Sophie's tower."

"Lady Sophie's tower?" Keefe asked, confused.

"Yes," I said. "We are close friends. She is trustworthy and knows everything. Lady Sophie can also be of service if you need access or lodging."

"Thank you, Will Scarlet," Fitz said. Was that jealousy in his eyes? It flashed for a second but went away quickly. I started to walk away. "One of these days we will find out your true identity!"

I turned around, smirking. "You can try, Fitz, you can try!" I took off running to my horse, Silveny.

I wonder if they ever will find out. Half of me hopes they will while the other doesn't. As Silveny and I ride, the wind rips through my hair. Ever since I was little, I've loved the sensation of riding. Tonight, however, there were other matters on my mind.

As they teased Fitz, I kept thinking about my silly crush on him. It was pretty stupid of me, considering my situation. Being married to Lord Tiergan...I shuddered. How did this happen to me? Everything was perfectly fine before King Grady left. Then his awful nephew took over as regent and...yeah.

A swirling storm of emotions overcame me as I neared my tower. I quietly secured Silveny in the stables, then climbed up my tower. There were guards posted at the bottom of the stairs, so I had no choice but to climb. The castle's entrance was no good either.

I entered my bedroom and walked over to my door. Because I greased the hinges, the door swung open soundlessly. A strawberry blond guard was sleeping outside. I tapped his shoulder.

"Dex, I'm back!" I whisper shouted.

His head snapped up. "Did you have fun?"

Thank you for reading!!

⤭ Meels

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Feel free to reblog - not repost!

Taglist: @nervousnightcollector87 @sophiexmallowmelt @bananafosters-and-books @silveny-dreams

note: @silveny-dreams I can’t remember if you said you wanted to be tagged, so I did so anyway lol

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themyskira · 6 years

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Wonder Woman #47

Previously in the Land That Proofreaders Forgot, Jason is the specialest snowflake and his armour gives him all the powers of all the Greek gods ever!!!

Also, people are losing their shit, denouncing their gods and proclaiming the arrival of some so-called “Dark Gods”. One of those people is Supergirl, whose fist is on a collision course with Diana’s face.

At least the variant covers are still gorgeous.

Supergirl attacks Diana while monologuing furiously about how all the gods are dead and the Dark Gods are coming to Show Us The Way. She says they’ve told her to kill Diana, who apparently inadvertently “dragged them from their own dimension into ours”, because she will threaten their plans if she’s not stopped now.

She freely volunteers this all in the first three pages, as Diana fights off her attacks, which seems just a teeny bit premature. Usually the Bond villain doesn’t launch into explaining their villainous plan until after they’ve captured Bond, you know?

If the Dark Gods really have this much control over people, including some as powerful as Supergirl, and if it’s really so crucial to their plans to eliminate Wonder Woman, why not launch a precision strike? Rather than Supergirl hurtling towards Diana screaming ‘RAO IS DEAD AND SO ARE YOU!!!!’ — thereby giving Diana both time to react and an indication of who’s really behind the assault — make it a true ambush, with Supergirl attacking in ruthless, resolute silence.

Or make it a coordinated attack from a group of heroes and villains under the Dark Gods’ sway.

Or have the civilians Diana’s trying to save turn on her as one.

It’s not only a smarter tactic on the part of the villain, it would actually make for more interesting storytelling. The Dark Gods, whatever the hell they are, are supposed to be a threat of mythic proportions. They’re allegedly so scary they make all the other gods piss their pants, and their mere approach turns human minds to mush. So lean into that. A mounting series of unsettling and inexplicable events — Diana’s patrons falling suddenly silent, Circe inexplicably fearful, violent mobs forming out of nowhere, heroes turning on each other, divine items losing their power, a building undercurrent of they’re coming and you brought this on us, so that even before we’ve heard their name or seen their faces we know to fear them.

That’s far more interesting than Cheetah and Supergirl bursting onto the page shrieking ‘THE DARK GODS ARE COMING, ALL OTHER GODS FUCKING SUCK!!!!!’, in the same way that a trail of breadcrumbs is far more compelling than having half a loaf shoved violently into your face.

Anywho, they fight, Supergirl raving all the while about all the ways she’s going to murder Diana, as Diana goes into her usual (under Robinson) weak litany of ‘listen to yourself, this is crazy talk, be reasonable!’

Diana displays her usual (under Robinson) keen deductive skills.

“I need to know— whether Supergirl is attacking me out of blind madness, or is it— is this attack because whoever these gods are, I’m a threat to them in some way?”

Supergirl: “those Dark Gods … tell me you will interfere if you aren’t stopped now.”

Diana, three pages later: Hey, do you… do you think it’s possible that maybe the Dark Gods are trying to eliminate me because I’m a threat to them or something???

Then this happens, and I literally burst out laughing.

“You can’t outfight me, Amazon— outrun me… outrun my eyes!”

“OUTRUN MY EYES”. WHAT. EVEN.

Diana’s been grappling with Supergirl for six pages at this point, and the whole time I’ve been mentally yelling at her YOU HAVE. A FUCKING. MAGIC LASSO. THAT BREAKS THROUGH DECEPTION AND ENCHANTMENT, because this is something that Robinson never seems to bloody remember. Diana finally cottons on… sort of. She ensnares Supergirl with a view to forcing her to confess everything she knows about the Dark Gods.

And, look. I’ll buy that whatever hold the Dark Gods have on people can’t be broken by the Lasso, but I don’t accept that Diana wouldn’t even try it.

Her priorities here are all out of whack. Robinson has Diana give up on trying to save Supergirl the moment her usual (under Robinson) method of firmly telling her foe to snap out of it fails. And, having decided that she can’t break through the Dark Gods’ control, her very next thought is not to subdue Supergirl and minimise the harm to civilians (they’ve already flown directly through several skyscrapers at this point), it’s to pump a still unrestrained Supergirl for information over a crowded city, causing more damage and endangering more lives in the process.

I’m not even exaggerating, because Diana’s every inane thought is there for us to read in Robinson’s narration boxes: “No use reasoning with her. Need her to tell me— I need to know—”

Supergirl is caught in the Lasso, Diana commands her to talk about the Dark Gods, and we cut away.

Jason is meeting with the Fates — the Moirai of Greek mythology. They’re among my favourite Greek gods, and Robinson could not have written them more obnoxiously. They speak in turns, finish each other’s sentences and use smug made-up acronyms.

Their character design is utterly boring: three conventionally attractive, young, fashionable, skinny white ladies, one blonde, one redhead, one brunette. Jason says they’re not what he was expecting, and they ask what he was expecting and teasingly shift through a series of forms: a typical depiction of the Moirai, robed and holding a thread between them; a vaguely Scandinavian-looking trio who are clearly intended to be the Norns, a… trio of seemingly generic East Asian deities???; and the Three Witches of 70s and 80s DC horror comics (best-known today from their part in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman).

This is actually a decent gag in concept, but the execution is sloppy and culturally tone-deaf. The Fates share some commonalities with the Norns, but they’re not the same goddesses, and they were certainly never adopted by East Asian cultures. The intention seems to be that these three are fate incarnate, the same three goddesses worshipped worldwide under different names and guises. But in implication, that has unpleasant shades of colonialism: it assumes a single Greco-Western conception of fate, ignoring diverse and culturally specific ideas and beliefs about fate and universal order. (Surprise, folks! Your indigenous gods are actually white people in disguise!)

(Edit: Mirrorfalls has pointed out that the third shift is the form taken by the Three-in-One in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman story ‘The Dream Hunters’, something I’d completely forgotten about! I think the criticism still stands: fate and trinities are major recurring themes/motifs in Sandman, and anthropomorphised concepts are a central concern of the comic, so the inclusion of a maiden-mother-crone trio in that story serves as a familiar shorthand for the forces of fate at play. Whereas... there is literally no reason here for Robinson to throw out in a by-the-by that the Greek Fates are everybody else's fate/destiny gods as well, except that he wants to drop yet another smarty-pants reference to comics that are better than his.)

And those two middle shifts aren’t even necessary for the joke to work. Arguably it’d work better with only the Moirai and the Three Witches, making it purely a play on typical (and stereotypical) depictions of the Fates, without claiming ownership of any other culture’s deities.

Anyway, the Fates say that they look like sexy white ladies because it’s the “perfect guise for W.A.M.” W.A.M., Jason asks? “Walking Among Mortals.” Told you they were obnoxious.

Jason wants to know about his super-special magic armour, how he got it and why he has it. He feels like it wasn’t even meant for him. “That’s good,” say the Fates, “Because it wasn’t.”

Oh good. Finally something we can agree on.

The Fates explain that Zeus, foreseeing the coming of the Dark Gods, created the armour as a weapon against them, to be wielded by “the hero he considered Earth’s greatest champion”. Jason realises they’re talking about Diana, and his face does this.

So, why did the armour go to Jason, then? Hahaha well it turns out the Greek gods are super sexist.

“Unfortunately your father died before he could bestow the armour. The rest of the pantheon, wanting to honour his wishes, still retained their ancient views. They assumed Zeus had created the armour for his son,”

Okay, few things.

E D I T I N G. “The rest of the pantheon, wanting to honour his wishes, still retained their ancient views.” He’s trying to say that the gods wanted to honour Zeus’s wishes, but, being old-fashioned sexists, assumed the armour was meant for Jason and not Diana. I know that. But this sentence says that the gods wanted to honour Zeus’s wishes and so remained old-fashioned sexists. Also, sentences do not end with a comma. Fuck’s sake.

If the gods and goddesses of the Rebirth DCU are so unbearably sexist that they think only a man is up to the task of saving the world, why did they create the Amazons (who are themselves the reincarnated souls of women whose lives were lost to the violence of men) to perform the essential task of guarding Ares’ prison? Why, when Phobos and Deimos sought to release Ares and envelop the whole world in war, did they command the Amazons to choose a champion to stop them? Why did they bless her with their divine gifts? Under their logic, wouldn’t all these jobs be more suited to a man?

(The answer is of course no, because this “ancient views” thing is a total asspull.)

And if the gods did assume that the armour was meant for a son, well, Zeus still has a fair few of them floating around. Apollo, for one. Why would they give it to the incompetent fuck-up who unwittingly helped Darkseid to kill Zeus?

In fact, according to the Fates, Zeus didn’t necessarily specify that the armour was for one of his children, just that it was for “the hero he considered Earth’s greatest champion”. Now, you’d think it would be pretty hard for the gods to mistake this one: Diana is, after all, their chosen champion, and already blessed with divine abilities. But fine, let’s say for argument’s sake that the gods are too sexist to accept this. They consider it for a moment, then scoff, ‘He couldn’t have meant such a powerful weapon for Diana. Listen, she’s a nice girl and all, but what if she’s on her period when the Dark Gods attack? Who else do we have?’ You can’t tell me that Jason was ahead of Superman in the running for “Earth’s greatest champion”.

Ultimately, this entire plot hinges on the idea that the gods, forced to choose one of two twins upon whom to bestow the great power and heavy responsibility of defeating their supposed scariest foe, passed over the anointed champion who gave up paradise to help others, who has served the gods faithfully, who has saved the world a hundred times over — passed her over in favour of a self-absorbed, untested, incompetent, glory-seeking fuckup whose only major accomplishment to date is to accidentally help Darkseid murder Zeus, Heracles and a crapton of demigods and heroes.

So that’s why I’m choosing to believe that the gods all got hammered at Zeus’s wake and decided it would be funny to bequeath the armour to the shittest son.

Jason asks if he should give the armour to Diana. He can’t, the Fates say; it’s bonded with him and nobody else can use it. Oh and PS, he’s going to have to learn how to use it fast, because the Dark Gods are already here haha prolly should have led with that.

This would be the perfect opportunity for Jason to ask who and what the Dark Gods are, and maybe how to defeat them, but lol, this is Jason, guys. So of course he races off like an impulsive jackass, knowing nothing about his enemies aside from their collective name.

Speaking of Diana, she’s gotten no answers from Supergirl, who blacked out the moment the interrogation started. Jason catches up with her.

Jason: DIANA! I’m here! Diana: Jason, where were you? Jason: With the Fates. They told me about the Dark Gods. Diana: The Fates of Greece? Really?

Diana is contending with a group of adversaries so powerful that they’re inside the heads of tens of thousands of people before they’ve even entered Earth’s atmosphere — and she’s just found out that she is the one who summoned them. She’s failed to get answers from the mind-controlled Supergirl, and time is running out. Then Jason appears claiming to have information about these fast-approaching enemies, and her reaction is, “OMG U MET THE FATES????”

That said, Jason is also a fucking liar. The Fates told you the Dark Gods’ name, Jason. That is not the same as telling you about the Dark Gods. They told you, Zeus made your armour specifically as a weapon against some super baddies called the Dark Gods, and you were like, ‘cool, no further questions’.

There’s another eyeroll moment as Jason pauses mid-rambling-explanation to ask, “Hey, where are the Dark Gods, anyway? I expected—”

He’s cut off by the arrival of the much-vaunted Dark Gods. There’s a big dramatic fanfare. Thunder. Lightning. Stormclouds. Tortured facial expressions.

Followed by this anticlimactic reveal:

Jason: They’re monoliths… but without movement or action.

As opposed to regular monoliths, which as we all know are famously lively and active.

Of course, immediately after Jason says this, the… giant floaty statue blokes… start shooting lasers out of their eyes.

Just as Diana seems dangerously close to actually doing something, a couple of Star Sapphires appear and whisk her away.

Star Sapphires: Wonder Woman… you must come with us. The Star Sapphires of Zamaron need you. Diana: No, not now, I have to—

They vanish with her, leaving Jason alone against the flying rocks, and us with this unpromising promo text:

NEXT: Follow Wonder Woman and the Star Sapphires as they battle the fate of Zamaron in Wonder Woman Annual #2. Then in issue# 48 see if JASON alone is a match for the DARK GODS!

I’m so mad, guys.

I’m mad because a Wondy/Star Sapphires space adventure is exactly the kind of story I want in my life and I know James Robinson is going to suck all the fun out of it because he’s a talentless doorknob.

I’m mad because it looks like we’re in for yet another issue of Diana being sidelined while her dumbass brother and her boyfriend take centre stake.

I’m mad because this book’s editors are so intensely apathetic that nobody noticed the two typos in this promo text.

But mostly I’m mad because FUCK FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THE ANNUAL THAT’S A WHOLE ‘NOTHER COMIC I HAVE TO GET THROUGH GOD FUCKING DAMMIT

#comics talk #the james robinson shitshow

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deathandrenegades · 7 years

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Operation Foxtrot (Bucky x Reader) - Part 7 (end)

Summary: New to the compound, it almost feels like you and Bucky have a connection you can’t quite put your finger on. With Hydra still a threat, how will that affect you?

Word Count: 1620

A/N: this is the ending to the series, i probably could’ve gone on with it for another part but i think we all get the point. inbox me!

I looked at the Soldat, his eyes were empty. We were ordered to follow the doctors out, and now we sat in a heavily guarded room. He was put in a chair, a machine coming down around him. I hate watching him go first.

“What is your status?” I asked when he stood. His eyes flicked over to me, cold and dark.

“Ready to comply, renegade.”

Steve and the rest of the avengers landed just a mile outside of the base, trying to prepare for what's to come.

“Is there a plan here?” Natasha asked, surveying the plains of snow.

“Get (y/n) and Bucky, preferably before they kill us.” Steve grunted.

“Piece of cake.” Natasha replied.

There was an echo of gunshots, I looked up to the Soldat, who was immediately radiating high alert. He looked back at me, motioning for the both of us to check it out. I got up and followed him into the hallway, neither of us speaking to each other. The Soldat almost never spoke, especially after being freshly wiped out.

Once they turned the corner, we all froze. They were a mere few yards away from us, at the end of the dimly cement hallway.

“We don't have guns.” I muttered in Russian.

“This is where our skill comes in then.” He smirked. We both then stalked to them, they started jogging lightly toward us.

I went for the redhead, and a dark skinned man. They were both incredibly beautiful, the red head almost looking familiar.

I attacked them both, my body felt exhausted, not wanting to cooperate with how fast it had to keep up with me. The woman was nearly as fast as I was, The man sluggish. My eyes glanced over to the Soldat , who was fighting a man in a metal suit and a brawny blonde. My eyes calculated the results of this fight, and it wasn't looking good. My eyes caught another girl, standing behind them, unmoving. Her gaze was concentrated on me, and the. She started to move her hands. Next thing I knew, my arms were frozen as I lifted my fist to swing back to the redhead. I fought against it, both my opponents seeming to still.

“Shield!” The dark man yelled. I looked over, the blonde throwing his shield to him. The soldier was caught in a severe headlock of the metal suited man, trying to kick his way out of it. I was horrified, for the first time, we were losing. My gaze focused back on the dark man in front of me.

“I'm really sorry about this.” He panted, then hit me in the forehead with the shield.

When I awoke, I was strapped to a hospital bed. I tugged at the restraints looking around the room.

The winter soldier sat next to me, looking extremely tired.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked in Russia.

“The mission is over.” He replied calmly. I raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you give orders?” I questioned.

“Zola is dead.” He tried to appear hard, unphased. But really he just looked defeated.

A few doctors walked in, along with the blonde from the fight. I tensed, fighting my restraints again.

“Good to know things have changed.” The blonde said sarcastically to Barnes. The Soldat sighed next to me.

“I'm working on it.”

“The doctors think they might have a way to break her out of it.”

“It's not possible.” Barnes gritted his teeth.

“Her brain has to be active, because right now what they've done to her is mute all of her major brain activity. When her brain turns back on, so will she.”

“How do we do that?” Barnes asked.

“Soldat, what is going on?” I spoke in Russian to him. His eyes flicked over to me, a dangerousness lingering in them.

“Leave me with her.” He spoke to them, without taking his eyes off of me. They exited the room, and the Soldat got out of his chair, closing the difference between us.

“Soldat.” I stammered.

“My name is Bucky.” He replied softly.

“What?” He bent down, his face so close to mine. He was behaving so unusually, like he was another person. His eyes screamed with life, with pain and fear. My brow scrunched together.

“I need you to recognize me, (y/n).” The name he called me pulling something in my mind, something distant I couldn't grasp. I shook my head.

“Of course I know you.”

“No, as Bucky. Not as the winter soldier.”

I sat there, staring at him, completely confused.

“We don't work with Hydra anymore.” He breathed. My eyes flicked down to his mouth, my ears not even processing what he just said. Something about him being this close, about me wanting to reach out and grab him, pull him to me and kiss him, it felt like deja vu.

“We don't?” His eyes traveled down my face, to my lips. He leaned closer, his mouth brushing against the corner of mine.

“No. You're with me now, and good people.”

“Who?” I moved away slightly, his words catching me off guard.

“Just trust me.” My breath caught in my throat. Should I? He was barely recognizable to me. Before I had any more time to think, I felt his lips press against mine. His hands gently moved to cup my face, the cool of his metal hand send shivers on my right side. My hands wove up to his shoulders, my right hand knotting in his hair as the kissed deepened. I didn't even realize how hungry he made me, until I nipped at the bottom of his lip. His chest rumbled as a low growl escaped his lips and into my mouth, my body leaning off the hospital bed to some how get closer to him.

He broke away, his mouth ghosting over my jaw and to my earlobe.

“Come back to me, (y/n), please.” He whispered, nipping at my ear. His hand moved away from my jaw, traveling down my arm and down to my thigh, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Suddenly my brain felt like it launched into function, I gasped, my eyes flying open.

“Bucky?” I exclaimed, my chest heaving as everything flooded back into my mind.

“(Y/n)?” Bucky pulled back to look me in the eyes, my mouth agape as all I could do was nod ever so slightly.

He crashed his lips to mine again, his mouth incredibly soft. He kissed me with such intensity, I thought I might implode.

“Don't ever scare me like that again.” He whispered against my mouth. He rested his forehead against mine, our breaths entwining between us.

“I'm so sorry.” I breathed. I didn't trust my voice, and talking about it would probably just put me in tears. I couldn't even imagine facing everyone in the compound. They probably don't even trust me now.

“No. I'm the one who's sorry.” He lifted my chin, looking into my eyes yet again. “They used you, to get to me. That's something I can't ever forgive myself for.” His face fell slightly at the though, my hand reached out to gently trail the back of my fingers down his cheek.

“It's not your fault. They're the ones who’re fucked up, not you.” I looked pointedly into his eyes, I needed him to know how I felt.

He fell quiet, my hands dropping from his face. His fingers slid through mine, interlocking, almost seeming caught in a daze.

“So what happens now?” I asked slightly anxious. Bucky had shifted dramatically, maybe it was me getting captured, or the fact that Hydra is still a threat, whatever it might be I could tell there's a change. Already he's so unguarded, the cold front no longer there, lingering in the back corners of his eyes. No, now he held my hand without thinking, unafraid to show emotions and actually feel them.

“Well,” his voice thick, “what do you want to happen?”

What did I want? I wanted a million things. To not be in a hospital bed to start. But I've always wanted Bucky, always had an attraction toward him. But was he really ready for that?

“I want you.” I said quietly.

“I want you too.” He breathed. My eyes lifted to meet his, his eyes tracing my face, seeming nervous for my next response.

“Are you sure this is something you actually want? Because I'm all or nothing Bucky. I don't do in the middle. I don't do together one night, then around people we don't know each other.” I pressed my lips into a thin line, I needed him to know just how serious I was about this.

He nodded, staring at our fingers intertwined.

“It might be,” he licked his lips, struggling with a word to choose, “difficult to do at first, but I know I don't want to lose you.” He shook his head at the thought, eyes still concentrating on my fingers, but he was looking past them like he was envisioning something else. “I almost lost you and I didn't know what to do. I can't imagine if I actually did.” His voice was low, like he said it more to himself than me.

“Then you can have me.” I whispered, his eyes snapping up to my response. He came forward and brought his lips to mine, his hand leaving my fingers to grip the back of my head, eliminating any space between us.

“Yes!” I heard from outside the door, I jolted away from Bucky, completely startled. Steve stood outside the door, his smile evident through the window of the wood. I flushed, and Bucky flicked him off before returning to my lips.

PSA i’ll be coming out with a new series hopefully within a week or two, until then it’ll probably some smutty one shots. let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming, or the series upcoming, it’ll be a love triangle between reader, Steve and Bucky! keep an eye out :)

TAGS: @bexboo616 @death-by-teacup @chameerah @superwholockian5ever @katykyll @aekr

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #avengers #captain america #steve rodgers #sebastian stan #marvel fanfic #wriiting #bucky fanfic #avengers fanfic #bucky series

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gheckoe · 7 years

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JAMES’S CURATED QUALITY FANFICTION PRIMER

for @rev0lutions-of-ruin, who tumblr does not like letting me tag

foolish bird avoids ao3 for years and misses out on the Good Shit, but it will be okay! she has THIS now. ft. DUMB LONG-WINDED CAPTAIN AMERICA MOVIE EXPLANATIONS, because i don’t think you would watch those movies willingly.

lots of selection - pick and choose, but if you don’t read “out of the dead land” i will be very sad. just treat this as really weird queer genre fiction and you’ll be alright. fics with pornographic content are marked as such, but said content is easy to skip as long as you can pick up on the warning signs.

we’re gonna start with the funny stuff.

nanananana BAT-DAD! (no ships, just bruce being a dad. safe for work and hilarious,)

who needs therapy when you have microsoft excel.

tim drake (robin 3) is a transgender teenage disaster. and bruce wayne is just generally a disaster. (same series.)

okay, now let’s get kind of sad. but not TOO sad.

nananananananana BATMAN (and superman)

this one made watching batman vs. superman worth it. not quite. but kind of. it’s fantastic.

i forget what happens in this one but i know i enjoyed it!

snk? why this, james. why this.

bad show, i know, but. formative experience. i figured out i was trans by projecting my feelings onto jean kirchstein. (not sure how, that’s just what happened.)

this one is stupidly fucking huge, in first person, and still isn’t finished.

included by virtue of some weird nostalgia. it’s half a million words long. try the first few chapters; i can’t guarantee anything that happens. don’t fucking judge me.

boring, punch me in the feelings already. more angst!

STEVEBUCKY

i don’t think you’ve watched the captain america movies, so i will explain them.

the saddest, gayest shit you will ever see. will fuck with your heart, ideally! but (as per always), skip the porn. this fandom is really big on it. UGH.

BUT it’s based off of movie adaptations of comic books, so the backstory is... ridiculous. i will summarize it for you. (tumblr ate this so here goes again)

THE DYNAMIC/history/massive goddamn ship manifesto

two guys, sitting in the great depression, two feet apart because it’s not socially acceptable to be gay

steve: tiny, blonde, always mad and big on SOCIAL JUSTICE. gets into fights for SOCIAL JUSTICE, despite growing up in the great depression when SOCIAL JUSTICE was not a commonly-known phrase or a common thing. he’s a bit of a shit, and he gets into shit. with his scrawny lil fists. he has all sorts of chronic illnesses but somehow manages to survive in a time with shitty medicine, and grow up to get into MORE shit. likes art, but is (partially?) colorblind

also he’s VERY HEAVILY coded as trans.

bucky: taller, brown hair, very popular but secretly a bit of a nerd (loves scifi, and is good at math). likes dancing, girls, and getting steve out of situations that he’s clearly over his head in and talking shit about it after. a bit of a charmer, etcetera.

there are some good fics from this era (”pre-war”) but idk where they are in my bookmarks. will update later.

so wait, what happens?

bucky gets steve out of dumb situations (like fighting a guy for talking during a movie) for pretty much all of their life. childhood friends until after high school-ish.

BUT, bucky is either drafted into the us army (it’s wwii now) or enlists, and steve is left alone in brooklyn, new york, to get into shit, without anyone to bail him out or prevent him from getting into MORE shit. so he finally manages to lie his scrawny, ill ass into the army, and (as one does) volunteers to get experimented on by the american government.

wait, what the fuck

comic books, okay. don’t @ me.

steve manages not to die! he finds a really pretty, badass lady to bisexually fawn over in the army (peggy carter is a fucking miracle), the experiments are a success and he ends up BIG and cured of all his ailments and with superfast metabolism (no alcohol) and superfast healing. he’s made it! (he basically just got really fast, unrealistic HRT hahaha)

... except the army can’t replicate the embiggening process they did with steve because the scientist that did it got killed, and steve is made into a glorified prettyman mascot to sell war bonds, instead of going to punch nazis, which he would be better at. he is a terrible mascot.

meanwhile, bucky has a shitty goddamn time in the european theatre. it’s terrible. he gets kidnapped by the EVIL SCIENCE NAZIS and put in a freaky camp and experimented on, poor guy.

you said you ship them, right? they’ve barely interacted so far, man. what the fuck.

alright alright i’m getting to it

steve the dancing monkey (in his words) is doing a Morale-Raising tour in europe for the troops and they hate it and he hates it. he discovers that... oh shit... bucky and his regiment (?) have been kidnapped by HYDRA! (the science nazis.)

naturally, he of little training MUST go save bucky, because the people that actually know how to save people know that it would be pointless to try. but steve “dumb shit” rogers will do it his own damn self. don’t @ him either. it’s the 1940s so he doesn’t have a phone.

steve will walk to austria, if he has to!... but he actually just gets a plane ride there, from peggy carter the badass and some other guy who’s not that relevant right now.

he KICKS NAZI ASS, SAVES THE PRISONERS, and MAKES MEANINGFUL EYE CONTACT WITH BUCKY ONCE HE FINDS HIM IN THE EVIL SCIENCE NAZI EXPERIMENTATION ROOM. bucky’s so out of it that he barely even tries to question why his old friend is suddenly hot TALL.

steve and the lads walk back from austria, and he is a Bona Fide War Hero and not just a mascot. he has the stylish grime and everything. on the way, he realizes that the lads are pretty cool, and assembles a Diverse Crack Squad of Guys That Really Wanna Kill Nazis from the cool guys he just met. upon return to wherever they were earlier, steve is made a REAL CAPTAIN now, and his Diverse Crack Squad is at liberty to... go kill nazis.

bucky tags along. he is very handsome and talented at math, so he is a SNIPER and saves steve’s dumb ass (from getting shot by nazis, instead of getting punched in the face) like he used to. the Diverse Crack Squad gears up to take down THE WORST OF THE SCIENCE NAZIS, on a train in the mountains! they can change the course of COMIC BOOK WWII!

you said it was tragic. show me the tragic.

the TRAIN INFILTRATION does not go as planned, and bucky is knocked from the train and falls to his cold, painful, (presumably) death. steve can’t watch.

they catch a REALLY BAD SCIENCE NAZI, but it is a very hollow victory. steve goes and tries to get drunk in a blown-up bar where he hung out with bucky and they were really queer together.

the OTHER really bad science nazi now has a plan to BLOW UP COMIC BOOK NEW YORK! steven will NOT allow this to happen.

he’s also kind of given up on life. he has a flair for the dramatic, and also the ambiguously suicidal.

not that being ambiguously suicidal adds to the Dramatic Romance of this. it doesn’t, and that would be creepy. the point is that steve rogers has a LOT of issues, including the ones that science can’t cure.

this SPECIFIC PLANE is headed towards new york, full of explosives. steve manages to get aboard the plane... and doesn’t even try to escape. he crashes it into the water in the atlantic ocean, saying goodbye to peggy on the radio as it hits. he is also presumed dead. it’s... basically a suicide attempt.

flash forward seventy-some years.

wait, wasn’t he in the avengers?

steve rogers is found inside the frozen plane encased in ice in the ocean. he’s revived (super healing, woop) and... doesn’t say anything, because he’s really not up to expressing feelings.

he has a TERRIBLE time. all of his friends are dead or old and went about their lives without him, and he’s alone in a confusing new world. (but the food is better, vaccines are good, and no polio.) he’s not fantastic at making new friends, because, as shown by him and bucky’s entire relationship, he’s a bit of a sad introvert and just picks one person and... holds on.

blah blah avengers one blah blah, new team and fighting BAD THINGS. but steve is too angsty to make friends. he joins the new security organization that peggy founded, SHIELD, without really inspecting it that well because... he didn’t plan to be alive past flying the plane into the ice, much less in the 21st century. he doesn’t know what he’d do otherwise.

idk that sounds a little slow

he has DEPRESSION. it is a little slow. but it’ll pick up! (not emotionally.) now it’s very anti-establishment action flick. enter CAPTAIN AMERICA (2): THE WINTER SOLDIER.

steve makes a friend. actually, two! sam and natasha are wonderful, and they have some things in common. but steve obtains friendship while realizing that SHIELD is corrupt to the core and actually infiltrated by HYDRA, so he and his new friends have to... burn it to the ground. he “died” (or tried to) to stop HYDRA, and it’s still here and worse then ever. things feel pointless.

to make it worse, he’s fighting this creepily effective impersonal masked assassin on a bridge and oh fuck, oh fuck it’s bucky and didn’t he die years and years ago and his arm is METAL what happened to him, and he’s pretending not to recognize steve.

HYDRA is planning to eliminate sources of resistance for their new world order via shooting them from the air, so steve has to take one specific FLYING DEATHMACHINE down. he does, and brainwashed HYDRA bucky, the winter soldier, is there to stop him.

steve makes an appeal to emotions. “bucky stop you can’t do this”

bucky is confused, but he’s been programmed to do this.

steve tells his coworkers to JUST SHOOT THE DEATHMACHINE DOWN ALREADY, because he’s... given up again. he’s very talented at equating heroism with self-sacrifice/suicide. but he disables the DEATH part of the DEATHMACHINE without it getting shot down.

bucky has been trapped underneath a beam, but steve’s with bucky till the end of the line, even if bucky is brainwashed and lacking memories. steve drops his shield in the water and falls.

it’s another attempt to die. stop that, steve. go to therapy.

bucky doesn’t remember who he is, but he jumps after him. steve is very injured from his fight with bucky, and wouldn’t have survived the fall, but bucky drags him to shore and... leaves.

steve wakes up in the hospital with his new friend sam. they’re going to track bucky down, even if it takes forever.

ISN’T THAT FUCKED UP? isn’t that sad? it’s terrible. now, fics. most of them are after ca:tws, because that’s when the ship got popular. a lot of them center around Finding Bucky and Getting To Know Him Again.

there’s a lot of sappy sad let’s-teach-bucky-how-to-be-a-person-again-and-get-steve-to-be-less-sad but i like the ones that are like sad action movies, or sad queer movies, and less like sad romance movies. my bookmarks are a mess, so here’s the best stuff i could dredge up.

out of the dead land: this one kills me every single time. there’s something terribly cinematic about it. but, as fandom is wont to do, there’s porn near the end. skip that part. ew. it’s an introspective scifi action epic, with just enough identity issues to make you want to cry! READ IT, IT’S IMPORTANT.

this: alternate universe, sans steve “dying.” epistolary. sad, as far as i can remember. (i’d rec the rest of this series but i think it’s best if you read this one first?)

courtroom/media fic. what if the winter soldier got arrested after the movie? (cap fandom does this kind of fake-media thing very well. i just reread it. it’s still good.)

this one isn’t exactly groundbreaking, but it’s a different take on the fandom’s typical post-winter soldier bucky interpretation. quite short, 100% safe for work.

in this one, steve successfully gets drunk, makes some friends, and gains some coping skills. good for dark humour. there’s porn somewhere but i’m sure it’s easily skippable, otherwise i wouldn’t have bookmarked it. not 100% the best thing every but it’s pretty fun.

if you aren’t team s/b all the way then we can’t be friends, but here’s some other marvel stuff i guess

lesbians, ballet, feelings? it’s a rarepair but it’s pretty lovely. au, no background knowledge required. basically a beautiful indie film that’s kind of oscar-bait. you will like this one, i think. there’s probably porn somewhere.

trans black widow. (that chapter only, not sure what the rest is). not very well-written and i have terrible memory but i’m 75% sure it made me cry.

ENJOY! or try to. don’t feel obligated to. but please at least TRY out of the dead land, it is groundbreaking.

#teya #personap #fandom

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Dusty’s Diary by Bobby Adair: I played all the video games. I watched movies and read books. In most of those, the hero kills the zombies, drives an awesome car, has enough to eat, and always seems to get laid. I wrote this journal because the apocalypse sucks and doesn’t meet my expectations at all. Honestly, I was looking forward to it. It’s not like I don’t like people because I do. I was tired of all the crap I had to put up with. I was tired of dealing with traffic and my ex wife yelling at me. A zombie apocalypse looked like a good future for me. Here’s my story. Let me know what you think.

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Oddjobs by Heide Goody and Iain Grant: This is for anyone who ever had a bad day at work. However bad your job is, you could be like these guys and work for the secret government organization responsible for making sure the apocalypse goes as smoothly and as quietly as possible.

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