features obscured

anonymous asked:

Um it's 2017... Kind of embarrassing to still be a larrie after all this time, just saying

the year is 2017. the one direction hiatus has been taking a toll on all of us. each day, we wait anxiously for the news of the revival of the band. however, there are more problems lingering in the shadows of the news of solo projects and movie premieres…. what is the state of larry? are they still together? larries began to disappear all over the world. the antis, houies, and ex larries scour the internet, finding any traces of larries remaining on this site. the survivors are strong, but they are constantly in danger of the lurkers finding their blog and anonymously attacking them. 

i sit in my room, looking at my blue and green watch, wondering when this will all end. when will we be free? when will louis and harry be free? i shed a tear thinking about the state of the fandom, and the world.  i hear a knock on my door, interrupting my train of thought. startled, i shove the watch back in my sock drawer, not wanting to expose myself as a larrie for having these colors as part of my wardrobe. it was nestled along with my rainbow bear and leeds festival bracelet, the surviving artifacts after the anonymous figures invaded my neighborhood. i got away unscathed last time, but my close friend deactivated. i needed to maintain my secret, in fear of the repercussions of being a larrie in this day and age. 

i open my door to a figure, hidden in the shadows, features obscured by the darkness. i swallow my anxiety in the silence. ‘who are they?’ i wonder. the figure reaches into their pocket and holds up a phone, open to my blog. my eyes dart from the phone, to the faceless figure, unsure of how they found out. i shake in fear. then i hear the sentence; the sentence that every larrie fears… “damn r u a larrie?” they say. i scream, slamming the door. my heart is pounding. how did they find out? i’ve been so careful.

they began pounding against my door, attempting to kick it down. i can hear their angry yells from behind the door. “AIMH was 6 years ago! get over it! louis has a child! harry and kendall are my otp!” i run to my wall and touch my one direction poster, hand lingering in between harry and louis. “i’m doing this for you.” i close my eyes and take a deep breath, accepting my fate as the door abruptly gets knocked down.

i feel the presence move closer to me. i knew this was the end. i braced myself for my demise, when suddenly, i heard a ping from my phone and the phone of my attacker. i slowly opened my eyes and saw the faceless figure unlock their phone. i did the same. what i saw shocked me… it was a tweet… from louis to harry. what? how could this be? i look back at my attacker, mouth agape and eyes wide.

they murmured under their breath, “@Harry_Styles happy birthday mate! have a sick night.” we stood in silence, the pounding of our hearts and our deep breathing filling the room. they look back up at me, expression unreadable. they placed their phone back in their pocket, and walked out of the room with their shoulders hunched. i never saw the mysterious figure again.

and that is the story about how i’m surviving, as a larrie, in 2017. thank you louis, your tweet saved my life. the end.

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The Last Goodbye

Pathfinder Macen Barro asked Avitus Rix to oversee his entry into cryo. He said he wanted Avi’s face to be the last thing he saw in the Milky Way.

He got his wish.

“Too bad there’s not room in here for two, huh?”

Avitus scoffed, the sound chittering in his throat as he kept his eyes on the console. “Like I’d want to wake up after 600 years of your bony ass digging into me,” he muttered. He glanced up only briefly as Macen chuckled. The Pathfinder looked like he was being packed for shipping, standing idly in the cryo pod while Avitus triple-checked the life support stasis controls. Cushions molded to the shape of Macen’s form, supporting his neck and fringe, hugging snugly against his narrow waist - not unlike the custom-cut foam Avitus was used to seeing in weapons shipments. It made him look ridiculous - even more so with the lopsided grin he was wearing.

“I’ll be sure to be there when they pull you out of cryo,” Macen offered.

“That’s really not necessary,” Avitus said distractedly, pulling up the UI for temperature control.

“Oh, it is. Believe me,” Macen continued. “I’ll be armed with something loaded with caffeine. You’re a cranky bastard in the mornings, Avi. I’d hate to see what you’re like after a half-millenia snooze.”

Avitus merely grumbled, scanning the readings. Macen leaned forward, casting a cursory glance down both ends of the cryo bay before reaching his hand out. “Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “Come here.”

Avitus hesitated, his eyes following the same path Macen’s had a moment before. It wasn’t that he was ashamed. He had no reason to be, refused to be, and anyone who would judge him could go fuck themselves. But Macen was his superior officer and old military habits die hard. No one in the turian forces would have cared if the two of them decided to blow off some steam but this - this thing between them - it went deeper than that. Much deeper.

For now, Avitus wanted to focus on their jobs, to keep their more intimate connection private. At least that way no one could question Macen’s judgement when it came to having Avitus as his second.

Reassured that they were alone, Avitus stepped up to the foot of the pod. Macen leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand on the pod’s frame while the other sought the front of his uniform, tugging him closer. Their brows met and Avitus let his eyes close with a sigh. It was a touching gesture.

A lover’s gesture.

“We’re going to make it through this, Avi,” he whispered, his subvocals buzzing low.

“I’m not worried-”

“Yes. You are,” Macen said firmly. He tilted his head, mandibles twitching as he nuzzled them against his own. “It’s alright to admit that. But everything is going to be fine.”

Avitus squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “You can’t know that.” He wouldn’t go so far as to admit to being afraid. He could handle fear. It was the uncertainty that got to him, that had kept him up this past week, wondering if they were making a mistake.

“I do,” Macen hummed. “You know why?” He pulled back, mandibles flaring in a self-satisfied smirk. “Because I’m in charge.”

Avitus let out a half-hearted laugh, shaking his head. “Pompous ass.”

The insult held no heat. No malice. Avitus let himself return the nuzzling, burying his face against the side of Macen’s neck before letting out a slow sigh.

“It’s just like taking a nap,” Macen reassured him. “And I’ll be there when you wake up. You’ll be the last thing I see in the Milky Way and I’ll be the first thing you see in Andromeda.”

Avitus huffed out a laugh. “I’d like that,” he admitted.

Macen’s arm looped around him, as much of an embrace as he could offer leaning half-out of his pod, his fingers scratching lightly at the back of Avitus’s carapace through his shirt. “And when everything is said and done,” he continued, “you and I will find some quiet little place to ourselves, so you can live out your retirement like an old man.”

Avitus knew it was a joke at his expense, but the idea warmed him all the same. The two of them, a fresh start, somewhere new where they wouldn’t be restricted by the chain of command, where they could just be civilians. Where they could just be. No more covert ops. No more killing for cowards too frightened to do their own dirty work. Just the two of them on a golden world, learning to live the kind of life he’d never allowed himself to have.

Avitus looked up, meeting Macen’s eyes and he could tell the man was thinking the same thing. There would be obstacles to overcome when they got there, but they could make this work. Macen would find them a new home and Avitus would be there, right by his side, every step of the way. And once they left the Milky Way behind, once they left Palaven and turian command and took their first look at Andromeda, things would be different. They would be different.

Macen’s hand moved up into his fringe, stroking only briefly before falling away. “Now tell me goodnight and push the button,” he said, taking a breath as he straightened himself in his pod. “The sooner I go under, the sooner we’ll be there, right?”

“Right.” Avitus cleared his throat, retracing his steps back to the console. Part of him wanted to run the diagnostic again, to make certain everything was properly calibrated, but he knew he’d only be stalling. It was time.

He punched in the sequence, watching as the pod stirred into life, the door beginning to close. “Sleep well, Pathfinder.”

Macen smiled. “Love you, Avi.” He winked. “See you soon.”

Avitus didn’t have time to respond before the pod sealed with a hiss, the small window already starting to crystalize with frost, obscuring Macen’s features. The arms holding the pod lifted, bending outstretched limbs as Avitus watched him slide into place among the other sleeping crewmembers.

“I love you too, Macen,” he whispered.

It was the last time he’d get to say those words.

Battered and Bruised Ch. 3 (Bucky x reader)

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter two because things are about to get intense for chapter three. I hope the cliff hangar was good enough. Just a reminder that I love you all and that you have a wonderful day. I posted a Masterlist last night and you can find all my other works on there :)

Chapter 1 2

Description:  Bucky sees all the damage he’s physically done to you because of what H.Y.D.R.A. did to his mind.

Warnings: Violence, cursing, angst.

“I love you F/N. I never thought I would be able to love somebody, but I love you. And I never want to lose you. Never.” 

“And I love you. I always have and always will.”

The Russian man threw the notebook down, smirking. From your chair in the corner, you could see the scowl on Bucky’s face, but his hands were shaking. He was trying to be brave, but he was terrified. Your tears were streaming down your cheeks and every breath hurt like hell. You had been screaming out for Bucky, trying to calm him down in anyway possible. The pain in your ribs was excruciating, and you began to choke on your sobs, your throat burning. 

“Soldier, welcome home.” The man’s accent was so thick you could barely understand what he was saying.

“I am not your soldier. And this- this is not my home, you fucking bastard.” Bucky thrashed against his restraints. A heated anger began to burn inside his chest. 

The agent just scoffed at him, then turned his full attention to you. 

“And I’m guessing your the American, scum agent that knocked out most of my men.” His back was to the light and his enormous shadow loomed over you, obscuring his features. “Hmm,” he tilted your head up towards him with his index finger, letting him see your flushed, tear-stained face, “but with your skills, you could be a wonderful soldier. for H.Y.D.R.A.” He chuckled lightly.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Bucky growled, his chest heaving.

The unknown man circled you, like a vulture. He began to twist a curl of your hair, suddenly grabbing a fistful, yanking your head back. You cried in pain; hot tears were stinging your eyes. 

“Stop it! Get away from her!” Bucky was thrashing against the table, screaming, but it wasn’t moving one inch. You realized this table was specialized to keep him restrained. 

“Ah, so I found your weakness, зимний солдат.” The man had a wide grin on his face. “You love her, don’t you?” He released your hair and walked back to the table in the middle of the room. The pain from your head began to subside, but the waves of pain every time you breathed were still prominently there.

“I swear to God, if you lay another hand on her I will kill you.” The words were seething between Bucky’s clenched teeth. 

By the way this was going, you didn’t know if you were going to be leaving alive or in a body bag. Or worse, you would sticking around as another one of their super soldiers. 

“Bucky, look at me,” you croaked. Every word burned your throat and sent screams on pain through your body. He turned his head to you, eyebrows stitched together with hurt and worry. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I always have and always will.”

“F/N, don’t say it like this is goodbye. Don’t do this.” Tears were making streaks down Bucky’s beautiful face. You gave him the best smile you could despite the immense pain. You didn’t know what could happen next, you and him were completely helpless. They took all of your weapons, even the extendable blade that was embedded into your uniform. He had a better chance of making it out, he was a super soldier after all. Though, your luck was running thin. Your chances of getting out of there in one piece were slimmer than ever.

“Enough of this.” The man spoke clearly this time, his anger and annoyance was building in his voice. “Let’s get started now солдат. Shall we?” He motioned towards the leather notebook, the star matching the one that used the be on Bucky’s vibranium arm. The agent picked it up, his eyes boring holes into him. 

Taking his sweet time, he opened it, flipping through the pages. He was going to enjoy watching both of you suffer.

“Bucky. Baby. Stay strong. Fight it, I know you can. Focus on something. Focus on me or Steve or us.” Your words brought more tears to your eyes, it was breaking your heart. “I love you. It’s going to be alright.” 

As you were talking him down, Bucky listened to the sound of your voice and closed his eyes. 

“Catch me if you can!” You yelled, caught up in a fit of laughter. You were wearing a yellow sundress, weaving in and out of the trees. 

“I’m coming after you!” Bucky chuckled, a huge smile was plastered on his face. He finally caught up to you, hugging your waist from behind. You both were breathless, falling to the ground, laughing. 

He opened them. Worry was knitted on his face. He had to keep these memories. He had to hold onto them, and maybe, just maybe his mind wouldn’t succumb to the pain and brainwashing. 

“Тоска..” The agent bellowed, letting the word echo through the room. Bucky’s metal arm twitched. He had to fight this. He couldn’t leave you. You were the one person he had, the one person he loved. 

“Ржавый..” Something began to click in Bucky’s head. The world began to spin around him.

“Stop!” You were screaming as you saw the love of your life being ripped apart right in front of you. “Baby, no. Don’t forget me. Don’t forget us.” You were choking on air and tears, your vision blurry. 

The man wielding the notebook began to speak louder and faster, realizing that you could jeopardize the activation.

“Печь, рассвет, семнадцать.” Bucky was thrashing around, trying to stay grounded. It was becoming harder and harder with every second. He was going in and out of his own, controlled mind. He tried focusing on another memory.

He rolled over, seeing your beautiful body laying beside him. This was the first morning you ever woke up together. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you on the shoulder. A corner of your mouth curled up in reaction. 

“Good morning my love.” He spoke, breathing the words into your neck. 

“Good morning.” You groaned, placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

He smiled. “God, I love you so much F/N L/N.”

Thinking about you brought him back a little, making it easier to think clearly.

“Доброкачественный, девять, возвращение на родину.” The man was grinning from ear to ear as he saw you struggling against your restraints. 

You couldn’t run to him, bring him back down from this. Your croaked whispers were being drowned out by the echoing voice of the man who was torturing Bucky, right in front of you. 

“Один.” The room was booming with noise. Bucky’s screams gave you a sinking feeling and you felt yourself falling apart. 

He couldn’t fight it any longer. He kept recalling memories of you, repeating his name and your name in his head, hoping he wouldn’t forget it. Searing pain crept up to the front of his head, making his vision go blurry. Tears were streaming down his face, he was covered in sweat. 

He looked at you one last time, “F/N, forgive me.”

“грузовой вагон.” The agent stood still, waiting for a reaction from Bucky. His head was drooped forward, the long black strands covering his facial features. 

“Солдат?” He was eager for a response. 

Bucky’s head slowly drew up. “Готов выполнить.” 

The agent began to laugh hysterically. “Impressive, no?” He looked at you, the life drained out of you. 

“Солдат, kill her.” He smirked down at you, watching you as you remained stoic. The only thing that he could see were the silent tears rolling down your cheeks. He unlocked Bucky’s restraints and he immediantly got up, walking briskly towards you. 

“Bucky, I know you’re in there somewhere. I want you to know that I love you.” Your voice was scratchy and whispered. 

“Who the hell is that?” He asked you, pure evil was the only thing found in his once loving, blue eyes. Before you could say anything his metal fist came into contact with your jaw. An instant spike of pain emerged, you could taste blood in your mouth. 

“I don’t blame you for this. This isn’t you.” You whimpered, the pain in your jaw made it incredibly painful to speak. Were you afraid of him? No. What you were afraid that the real Bucky, your Bucky, would never come back. 

One, two, three punches landed in your other ribcage, gut, and face. 

You were spitting out blood. “It’s okay baby. I’m not afraid. I’ll always love you.” Your vision became spotty as pain coursed through every inch and every nerve of your body. 

“Shut up!” The Winter Soldier was all that was left standing in front of you. He began to deliver a series of punches all over you body, making your head spin. You didn’t scream or yell. You took it, every single punch. 

Blood was streaming down you face, arms, and it began to seep through your clothes on your stomach. You couldn’t focus on anything as your body became numb. He kept punching you, but you could no longer feel it. 

A blanket of white overtook your vision as you whispered, “I love you Bucky,” one last time before you collapsed in your chair, your world fading to black. 

How was it? Leave me some feedback! You can message me anything! Let me know what you thought, how it made you feel, what you think is going to happen next :) If you want to be notified when I post the next chapter, let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist 


@mcfuccfairy @floofypillow @ficarchive007

@kaitlynthehuman @pinkleopardss @sergeantsandscoundrels 

Le Fantôme, a Danny Phantom x Miraculous Ladybug crossover snippet I hope to develop into a full-fledged fic. At some point. Probably under a different title, but if I do ever turn it into a real story, I’ll cross-post it on FF.net and the AO3 under Lynse. I just thought I could take a stab at fleshing out the idea paragraph I’ve had floating around for nearly a year now and see if anyone’s interested in the process.

In short: Danny should never have taken Tucker’s dare. But how was he to know he’d get jumped by two teens in costume and that they’d actually manage to destroy what might be his only way home?

Danny ducked as the lethal yo-yo cut through the air where he’d been a moment before, flicking intangible so he didn’t get caught on the rebound. “I should never have taken Tucker’s dare,” he muttered as he put on a burst of speed, zigzagging his way through the sky and keeping clear of the buildings.

This was bad.

Taking Tucker’s dare had only been his first mistake. He wished he could blame Tucker for making the dare in the first place, but he was the one who had agreed to see if he could sneak unnoticed into the Far Frozen and steal the Infi-Map.

Well, his other option had been allowing Sam to see some primary blackmail material, so Tucker’s so-called incentive was really blackmail itself, but Danny had laughed at him. He’d thought he was up to the challenge. And he had been. Technically.

He’d gotten the map, all right, but when he’d told it to take him where he needed to be, thinking that that was the fastest way to wherever Tucker had been holed up, it had definitely not taken him back to Tucker.

He should have known better, but it was too late now.

Danny risked a glance over his shoulder, eliciting yells in French from his pursuers. The ladybug lady might not actually be trying to kill him, but he didn’t want to take a chance on that. Especially since she and her partner had attacked him first.

Well, in all fairness, he’d dropped out of a portal from the sky and had done his best meteorite impression as he’d clung to the Infi-Map for dear life. And he may have knocked the kid in the cat costume off course as he’d been jumping between rooftops, but that hadn’t been intentional. And the boy was clearly fine, because he’d recovered before even hitting the ground, using his baton to mimic helicopter blades by spinning it over his head to control his descent.

Unlike Danny, who would have been a smear on the pavement if the Infi-Map hadn’t stopped just in the nick of time. The street he’d landed on hadn’t been terribly busy, but that didn’t mean people hadn’t run away screaming even if no one had gotten hurt.

He’d been too busy trying to get his breath back and too mentally preoccupied with the fact that he couldn’t hear any English to notice the girl in the spotted suit until she’d used that yo-yo of hers to tear the Infi-Map out of his hands.

He hadn’t been able to stop her from tearing it in half.

He hadn’t even known it could be torn in half.

He’d always just sort of assumed that the Infi-Map was indestructible, that Frostbite kept it locked up only so it didn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Apparently not.

Keep reading

To the Ends of the World [1/?]

A/N: It’s finally hereeee! This is the sequel to my S4 Canon-Divergence fic, Days of Future’s Past. There are a lot of dynamics and backstory within Days that carries into this story so I’d heavily advise you read it before this one, other wise you’ll spend most of the time scratching your head wondering who the characters are and why x is happening. For those who did read Days, welcome back to the universe! I have been dying to get back to this world and finish out our heroes’ story! Many thanks to my amazing beta @ive-always-been-a-pirate for giving this a look over! 

Banner made by the ever lovely @thesschesthair!

Six months after the events in Days of Future’s Past all is eerily calm for the heroes - until Maleficent finds a way to circumvent the prophecy that foretells her demise. Emma and Killian must now race against the clock to save one of their children from a fate worse than death while battling their own internal demons. With long held secrets revealed and love tested, can the Charmings and Jonses save one of their own and finally defeat Maleficent before she becomes an unstoppable evil?

Rated: M


On the shores of a vast and still lake, beneath the canopy of stars that had bore witness to the creation of all realms, stood a lone figure.

She would have been considered a vision if any mortal had been there to witness her presence, her beauty unparalleled except for that of Aphrodite’s. Her features were soft with her skin glowing alabaster in the moonlight, her black hair cascading down her shoulders and a stark contrast to the white gown that hugged her form. For centuries Mankind had written poems and songs about her, weaving her name and title into their tales until she was nothing more than a legend in their world - a faceless and forgotten woman. But they would never know the true depth of her being. She had been a fixed point in the cosmos since the dawn of time, born from the raw magic of the world and placed as its guardian before Mankind had even winked into existence. Power that not even the Dark Ones would have been able to comprehend flowed through her veins and seeped into the very air around her.

Keep reading

Criminal (Part 3)

Originally posted by caps-bucky

Part Three

Reading List: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

AU where Bucky is part of the white collar crime division of the Brooklyn police and you’re a well known thief that he’s had in his sights for years but has never caught. What happens when you get in too deep and have to turn to the one person who’s been longing to lock you away for as long as he’s been after you?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,107-ish

Warning:  Angst, violence and language.

A/N: I decided to try a little something new with this chapter and toss in Bucky’s POV. Not sure if I’ll continue to that do that the chapters to come. Let me know what you think! Next chapter things will really start to heat up!

Previous tonight when you made an exodus from your loft you had been too worried about the fact that pissed off Irishmen were trying to break down your door then why they were there in the first place. You had done nothing to get on the wrong side of the Irish so why had they given you such a rude awakening? Going to one of the few places you trusted you sat in a booth at a local diner with the hood pulled up over your head to cover your hair and obscure your features. You knew it was unlikely they would look for you here but you weren’t that far from the loft so there was that small chance they would increase their search radius.

While in the diner having a cup of far too strong coffee was when you saw it. The news was showing a scene from a local card game, the door of the building was broken and there were bodies covered with black police tarps. It was the same card game Dimitri had wanted you to rob but you hadn’t been anywhere near that building, you had turned down the job. “We’ve gotten word that this is the work of a local thief known as The Phoenix. A calling card was left on the scene which is the same as what has been found at many other robberies but this is the first time there is a body count. We’re told the BPD will be releasing a sketch of the woman in question later today. If you have any information please call our toll free number listed at the bottom of the screen.” Your blood ran cold and time seemed to slow down as your brain fought to process the information which had just been placed before you.

Killing people was never part of your MO and you always did your best to avoid unnecessary risks on a job. Every life mattered and no one should loss theirs over something someone wanted more than they did. On occasion you had to knock people out but never had you killed anyone, you might be a thief but you weren’t a murder, everyone knew that. Everyone other than the Irish and the BPD anyway. Pulling your cell phone from your pocket you hit redial on the number Dimitri had called you from the other day but your world came crashing down at the tone which came back to you, the automated voice informing you that your call could not be completed as dialed, please hang up, check the number and try again. If you were anyone else you would worry about someone tracking your phone but you were smarter than that and had a friend write a program to keep anyone from being able to track you.

The feeling of being numb quickly wore off as anger took over, you had refused to do a job and Dimitri had framed you for it anyway. He had to have known you would say no because the card game was a day earlier than he originally said and he had your calling card. Why would the Russian’s do something that could start a mob war? And then you realized the answer, if the blame fell on you there would be no war because the Irish would think you had acted alone. Though you always had a benefactor and everyone you worked with knew that, there were very few jobs you ever did for yourself and the one in question was not one of them.

“Can I get you anything else sweetie?” The grandma like waitress asked you as she stopped by your table. A small smile pulled at your lips for the first time tonight, you were grateful for her kindness and she seemed to radiate warmth.

“A slice of apple pie please and then I’ll get out of your hair.” The older woman patted you on the arm as if she knew that was something you needed right now and you were so appreciative for the small amount of human contact. As she walked away to get your pie you looked up the number for the BPD precinct knowing if it was a case involving you Detective Barnes was either at the scene or at the station and you hadn’t seen him in the short news clip so it was likely he was at the station. The Chief of Police was probably grilling him on how he allowed this to happen since he was the Detective assigned to your case.

As you wait for your pie you can’t help but drum your fingers against the vinyl covered table top, you weren’t impatient by any means you were just very nervous and wound up. The feeling of safety that the dinner possessed seemed to be slipping farther and farther away by the minute. There were very limited people you could turn to since most that ran in your circle wouldn’t hesitate to hand you over to the Irish no matter what you had done for them in the past, not that you could really blame them. Loyalty had it’s limits in this line of work.

The plate of pie was placed on your table and your waitress gave you another warm smile before she moved to check on another table. After a night like tonight you really needed a slice of pie and that sort of friendly smile because you weren’t sure when the next time you were going to see such a smile would be. Digging into the sugary concoction there was an explosion of flavor which came with your first bite. Not knowing when you next meal would be, you probably should have opted for something with more protein and sustenance but you needed comfort food right now.

It wasn’t long before the pie was completely devoured and you were staring at one contact in your phone. A contact you shouldn’t even have and yet you did. After Detective Barnes had so rudely began grilling people in your life, you had become snooping into his and gained his personal cell number thanks to a techy friend. Pressing the little phone button and initiating the call would change everything, were you ready for the fall out it could cause? What if didn’t believe you? Those were chances you were going to have to take because you had no other options and very few friends and alliances now. Licking the last bit of apple pie filling from the fork you finally bit the bullet and pressed the called button.

For a moment you don’t think he’s going to answer, it’s the early hours of the morning, he’s likely at work and it’s an unknown number but all you have left is hope.

Bucky’s POV

The precinct had been a mad house since the call came in. Patrol officers had been the first on the scene and the description they gave was one of vivid and gory detail before homicide had arrived. What he hadn’t expected was the calling card that was left at the scene. It didn’t make any scene but the moment that evidence had been logged and the chief was back at the station he and Steve were both called into the office the door being slammed closed and the blinds being pulled closed. “How did this happen? The two of you have been on this case for close to a year, no leads, no capture and now she’s not only stolen but killed many in the Irish mob! How the hell did you allow this to happen?”

The chief’s face was blood red a vein in his forehead pulsing under the skin as he glared at James and Steve from across the desk. The business like card with a single lipstick print was flung  across the desk in an evidence baggy, the wrinkles of the print making it look like the card was kissed by fire itself. It didn’t make any sense to him that The Phoenix would steal let alone kill someone of any mob, it wasn’t her MO and yet this was her calling card. Lifting the bag for a closer inspection something seemed a bit off with it, the lip marks were almost too perfect. “You told me that you were making head wave on this case! This is not what I call head wave!” Despite the chief’s words his eyes were glued to the evidence bag and the card within.

“You’ve seen her Barnes and  you’re going to meet with a sketch artist. I’ve allowed the two of you to make enough of a mess of this. Rogers, Barnes, you’re off the case since it seems the two of you had no idea what you were dealing with. It’s been handed off to homicide along with all your case files.” James’ eyes snapped up at those words, this couldn’t be happening? He was just getting a break in the case on The Phoenix and now it was being taken from him? Anger burned within him.

Steve put his hand on James’ arm trying to get him to calm down, “This has been my case from the start! I was the first person to even tie her robbers together before she started using a calling card! She might be brazen in what she takes but this isn’t her style, she avoids hurting people at all…”

“That’s enough Barnes!” The rage in his chief’s voice told him he had crossed a line, “One more word Barnes, just one and instead of being off the case, you’ll be suspended! You will not follow any leads, you will not look at any of the files or ask questions of those on the case, you’ll give a description for a sketch and that is it. Stay out of the way, both of you or I’ll have your badges. Dismissed.” His voice was final as both James and Steve left the office Steve looking defeated and James looked infuriated.

“Bucky I know you well enough to know you don’t want to drop this but you need to. This isn’t our case anymore, white collar crime is ours, homicide is a whole other department.” That gave James no reassurance as he moved to his desk and fell into the chair his metal fist slamming against the desk causing those around to look towards him.

It took him a few rings before he realized his cell phone was ringing. His brow furrowed not recognizing the number but he answered anyway, “James Barnes.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end until a feminine voice began to speak. The edge of sensuality still clung to it but there was fear as well, “I know what I’m being accused of and I didn’t do it. I don’t kill people, nothing is that important to me.” Her voice was low as if she were whispering as she spoke. There was such sincerity in her voice which he hadn’t expected.

Glacier like hues roamed over those nearby hoping no one suspected the phone call he had just entered into. Why would anyone suspect such a thing though? The idea of a criminal calling an officer for anything other than a taunt was unheard of. “Something is that important to someone doll and it’s important enough to drag you into it. I’ve been chasing you for a long time and in that time I’ve never seen a job you pulled where you hurt anyone and I’ve never known you to steal from the mob.” His voice was low keeping his conversation lowkey. “That doesn’t mean that people don’t change though and maybe this time it was important enough to kill over.”

Silence once more filled the line, he wanted to trust her but her life and how she lived was built on lies and misdirection. “Meet me tonight and I’ll explain everything I can. I know that you have no reason to trust me but you’re the only person who’s figured out jobs even I had forgotten that I’ve pulled. You know me better than you can imagine and I know despite your words, you don’t believe I did this. I’ll see you at Sin-Sation at nine o’clock. If I see any cops including your partner I’m gone. The people who are framing me, they have a far reach and even if they didn’t we both know the Irish have cops on their payroll and would love to get to me as soon as possible.” There was some sort of sound in the background that he couldn’t make out before the line went dead. Now he had a choice, he could trust a criminal or he could turn her in. Police custody wouldn’t save her from the Irish and regardless of if she did it or not they thought they did and they would find a way to kill her to send a message.

Tag List: @archerassassin @winter-in-wakanda @voltronmullet

A/N: I have the feeling I’m missing someone I was supposed to have tagged, I’m so sorry! Please message me and I’ll get you added to the tag list I promise!!! <3

naviness  asked:

#55 with Jungkook!

Prompt request: “Whoa.”

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You are volunteering for your school’s city-wide dance competition when you meet Jungkook for the first time.

Word count: 1.6k

Why you decided to volunteer for your school board’s annual dance competition, you didn’t know. Why you were elected to lead the committee, you really didn’t know. All you were intending to do was design a few posters. Instead, you found yourself devoting hours every day to organizing this damn event.

Today, on the day of the competition, you were finalizing everything. Since you attended an art school, there was a classic theatre that seated around three hundred people. You currently stood in centre stage as you monitored the last sound check.

“Hey, Y/N,” Namjoon, the president of the Stage Crew, called from the crowd. You couldn’t see him because the stage lights were too bright. “Try to relax. My team’s got you!”

You sighed, sticking your hands into your pockets. “I’m trying, but this is the day of the event and I really need everything to go smoothly,” you answered.

A teacher beckoned you to the side, alerting you of the arrival of the first school. You nodded and rushed to greet them. Darting through the hallways (the floors had been cleaned and waxed, as per your request), you arrived at the front of the school just in time to see the students exit the bus.

You pushed through the entrance with your best smile plastered on your face. At this point, it probably looked more like a grimace.

“Hello! I’m Y/N,” you greeted. “Welcome to YG School of the Arts.”

“Hi, Y/N,” the teacher responded. He was a large, friendly looking Asian man. “Nice to meet you. We’re representing BigHit Collegiate.”

“If you can follow me, I’ll show you to the changerooms,” you said with a smile, starting to turn towards the school.

“Actually,” a voice interrupted. You turned, seeing a smirking, tall boy looking back at me. He had pale skin and a muscular build. “We’re all dressed and ready to go.”

He motioned towards himself and the rest of the crew. Finally, you took in the fact they were all wearing ridiculous costumes. Each member was dressed in all-white military uniforms–little hats, squeaky clean dress shoes, and everything else. You wanted to be embarrassed for not noticing, but you were more embarrassed for them having to wear that.

“Oh, so you are,” you replied easily.

Another student hit the good-looking, sassy boy in the back of the head.

“Jungkook!” the shorter, also muscular student hissed. “Don’t be rude! This is why we never get to go to events like these!”

The teacher sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Please, Y/N, just lead the way.”

After you had escorted the BigHit representatives to the waiting area, the other schools began to arrive. Guests also began to file into the theatre, and as the event progressed smoothly, you felt a weight fall off your shoulders.

You handed out brochures with the greeting committee, and once Namjoon signalled you that the show was starting, you slipped into the theatre.

The MC of the event was an outgoing student named Seungkwan, who was a junior and a year younger than you. He commenced the competition with a series of jokes that had the entire audience, including you, in tears.

The event was divided by genre, although there were only contemporary and hip-hop being performed. Each school was able to perform a five-minute set in each category.

Since YG was the home school, our representatives presented first. As always, your classmates slayed the hip-hop category. Your friend, Lisa, was the head choreographer and she never failed to impress.

You barely watched the other schools. Their performances were nothing special. But you weren’t really one to judge, since your expertise was in Fine Arts, not dance.

Finally, the last school to perform, BigHit, appeared on stage. This was only their second year performing, but they had quickly established a name for themselves.

The BigHit boys caught the attention of the entire audience as they began their segment with a powerful marching sequence. The boy at leading the crew caught your attention. His face was downturned and his cap obscured his features, but you could the still see muscular legs he possessed. You were fairly certain this was the boy that had sassed you earlier, Jungkook.

As the track transitioned from a marching band track to a hip-hop one, the dancers on stage threw their hats into the crowd. Another boy switched places with Jungkook, and you struggled to locate the dancer as he fell back into the mass of other dancers.

You had to admit, their dance was leagues above everyone else’s. They included nuances (like a machine gun of bodies, what was that?) that the other schools couldn’t dream of attempting.

You watched, rapt, as the track transitioned to a rock song and Jungkook took centre stage. His movements were so sharp and powerful, and the expression he wore was charismatic. The BigHit dancers finished the performance, standing completely still as Jungkook cooly regarded the audience.

He was looking in your general direction, the sweat dripping down his neck illuminated by the stage lights. The bright lights highlighted the sharpness of his jaw and the muscular chords of his neck. As the lights dimmed, he caught your eye and smirked.

You swore, in that moment, your heart stopped. You could do nothing but gape back at him before the stage turned completely dark and Jungkook disappeared. Your could feel your heart beating quickly in your chest, and your mind went blank.

“Woah,” you breathed.

The judges deliberated in between the transition from the hip-hop groups to the contemporary ones. You made your way backstage to give the remaining performers a rundown of the events.

Once backstage, you were met by a smaller group of students dressed in less flashy costumes. Most were barefoot in loose, neutral coloured clothing. Most of them didn’t look nervous and regarded you disinterestedly.

A little awkwardly, you cleared your throat and instructed them through the rest of the night’s proceedings. Everyone acknowledged you halfheartedly, opting to practice their dances in the limited space.

Sighing, you turned around to return back to the audience to regroup with your fellow committee members. As you began to walk forwards, you bumped into a hard, unmoving body.

“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, stepping back.

It was Jungkook. Dressed in all black. His shirt was loose and slipped past his collarbones, revealing a muscular chest, still slick with sweat from his previous performance. Your mouth went dry as you looked at the glowing boy in front of you.

He cleared his throat and your gaze snapped to his, a fiery blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook,” he said with a small smile. His front teeth protruded slightly, and his cute bunny smile made his presence a little less intimidating. Just a little. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you replied. An awkward giggle bubbled up, and you couldn’t stop it from escaping. “Um–your performance was really good. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, his smile larger and more genuine than before. “Hoseok, the one who led the hip-hop part of the track, choreographed it. He’s the best out of all of us.”

“It was really impressive,” you agreed. You fidgeted with your hands and averted your eyes before saying, “You were, uh, really good, too! Very powerful, and stuff.”

Jungkooked laughed, tilting his head back a little bit. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice lowering. “Watch this performance, too.”

You agreed and rushed out of there, your face on fire.

After the competition was over, the adrenaline that had kept you going throughout the event had vanished. You were left, completely drained, bidding farewell to the schools that had attended.

BigHit had won first place in both categories, which was unheard of until now. You did watch their second performance, and Jungkook was as smooth as he was strong. Their contemporary piece was sensual, to say the least. The relentless bedroom eyes Jungkook gave the crowd certainly added to that.

Just as you were saying goodbye to your friends from SM Academy, the resonating whoops and hollers from the victors sounded from behind you. The boys rushed past you, trophies clutched in Hoseok’s arms, as they raced into their bus.

Suddenly, an arm snaked around your waist. You jumped in surprise, but the strong arm kept you firmly in place. You looked up and were met by Jungkook’s heavy gaze.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jungkook said. His grip around you loosened slightly, but his arm didn’t move. “So, what did you think of our contemporary?”

“It was too sexy,” you blurted out without thinking. “I couldn’t watch properly.”

Jungkook laughed, his bunny smile brightening his face. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Well, at least you’re watching me now,” he smirked, his eyes alight with mischief. He leaned in closer, until your noses almost brushed. His gaze lowered to your lips. You held your breath. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

As Jungkook pulled back (you couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed), his hand brushed–and lingered–against your ass. You squeaked and jumped back.

“Yes! Later,” you hissed, pushing him towards his bus. “Goodbye, Jungkook.”

He waved at you as he boarded the school bus, eyes full of mirth. You watched as the bus drove away and the distance between you and Jungkook grew. You wondered if you and Jungkook would ever meet again.


At home later that night, you were putting your clothes in the laundry hamper when a slip of paper fell out of one of the back pocket of your jeans. Curious, you picked up the folded paper and opened it.

Inside, in hurried, scrawled handwriting, was a phone number accompanied by a drawing of a bunny.

- Girl in Luv

Thanks for reading! Send more requests our way! Check out our prompts post if you need any inspiration xx

No One Gets Left Behind

Idea prompt from the 12x12 promo…Let me know if you’d like to see more. I’m also on AO3 as Crossroads_Castiel

“Not leaving you, Cas, come on damn it!” Dean growled out, trying to get Castiel to stand.

“Dean, I can’t! Just run! Get your family out and go!” Cass panted out as the black veins spread across his skin. Ketch’s irradiation gun had done its job, and done it well. As they spread, they caused a dizzying pain to race through his blood. He lay out on the floor, his body arching in pain with every pulse of the black veined intruder.

Dean stood, looking back at Mary and Sam standing near the door. Sam looked devastated as he gripped his gun like a lifeline, his hands trembling as he looked down at Castiel. Mary looked guilty, as well she should. It was her lies about working with the BMOL that had led Castiel into this trap. Her remorse was no comfort to Dean. “Mom, Sam, go. I’ll catch up.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he began to protest but Dean barked out, “Go!” And Sam obeyed, letting his eyes linger on Castiel before they ran.

“Dean, damn it, go! You can’t help me,” Cass growled through clenched teeth, sweat dewing on his forehead.

Dean nodded to himself, his eyes tightening, knowing this would not go over well. “Yes, I can. Are you still able to leave your body?”

Castiel looked up at Dean, his eyes barely able to focus through the pain.“Yes, but I’d rather die than return to Heaven.”

“I’m not telling you to go back to Heaven,” Dean said as he peered over his shoulder, watching for Ketch. “I’m inviting you in…” Dean locked eyes with Cas, knowing time was of the essence…"So, you know, get with the possessing. We’ll come back for your body and we’ll get Rowena and Crowley to figure out a way to undo this and get you back in…“

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Loved You First (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: The reader just returned from a long trip abroad, only to discover her best friend, Peggy Carter, is engaged to none other than her heartbreakingly beautiful ex-boyfriend, Bucky Barnes. (Modern au!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

Tags: @buchananbarnestrash @minervaem @imaginingbucky @illuminationunknown @witchwhoviandemigod @aweways

Originally posted by coporolight

Your shoes clicked against the pavement as you quickly walked to brunch. You were seeing your best friend, Peggy, for the first time in over a year, and you couldn’t seem to walk fast enough.

Approaching the cafe, you slowed down, feeling your stomach tingle with anticipation. You smoothed your shirt and walked inside. The cafe was full of laughter and clinking glasses. You saw Peggy standing in the corner, anxiously scanning the room. When she saw you walk in, her face lit up as she ran over.

“(Y/n)!” she squealed as she threw her arms around you. You inhaled her familiar, flowery scent and returned her hug, the warmth of seeing your best friend spreading to every extremity in you body.

“I missed you,” you said as you separated, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Peggy smiled, twirling her dark hair around her index finger.

“Well you’re the one who decided to travel all over the world to God-knows-where,” she said, bumping your shoulder playfully. You rolled your eyes, a small smile spreading across your lips. “Why did you end up leaving, anyway?”

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momentum - 7

chapter 7

[ch 1][ch 2][ch 3][ch 4][ch 5][ch 6]

“You two aren’t dating?” Itachi stopped stirring the chicken and onions. He had just asked about their relationship when Sasuke broke the news that they weren’t together.

Sasuke kept chopping carrots and replied nonchalantly. “No.”

The sizzle of stagnant food filled the kitchen and he had to remind his older brother not to burn their dinner. They were having curry tonight.

Resuming his task, Itachi narrowly avoided ruining the chicken.

“You certainly appeared to be in a relationship,” he commented while adding spices, then broth.

Sasuke moved on to cutting peeled potatoes and didn’t respond immediately.

“We’re not.” There was a marked stiffness to his tone.

He had touched a nerve and decided to push. “Did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

Itachi scoffed lightly. “That you like her.”

“Of course I like her,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She doesn’t need me to tell her that.”

“Romantically,” Itachi emphasized his point with a wave of his spoon - it was like pulling teeth to get Sasuke to talk about his feelings. He noted that he had an easier time interrogating hardened criminals than his closed off brother.

Unable to deny the accusation, he became tight-lipped instead; head down and bangs obscuring his features as he paid a suspicious amount of attention to the potatoes. Though, if he didn’t stop his assault with the knife, the diced chunks would become minced very soon.

If it was this difficult for Sasuke to talk about his feelings with his own brother, then Itachi concluded that he hadn’t told her yet. It was likely he hadn’t even hinted at it.

“Oh, little brother,” Itachi lamented. “Nothing but heartache will come out of pining.”

Sasuke gave him the cut-up vegetables as well as a look of mild annoyance. “As if you know anything about it.”

He was being testy but Itachi took the jab well, chuckling. “Yes, but you underestimate what I’ve learned from observation.”

Even if Itachi was married to his career, with its odd and long hours, he still possessed knowledge of romance from indirect life experiences. Meaning he soaked up bits and pieces from his friends, literature, and people-watching. While he did not consider himself an expert by any means, he knew enough to give decent advice.

The younger Uchiha tried to move past his stubbornness, knowing his brother was right. And if he was going to talk about this with anyone, it would be with Itachi. So, he sighed and conceded. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Itachi stirred in the potatoes and carrots, then placed a lid on the pot to let the stew simmer. Setting down his spoon and facing the young man, he sighed as well. Onyx eyes met a similar pair and he stated, “You risk failure with every action you take. Although,” the corners of his mouth turned up wistfully, “father would have argued that Uchihas never fail.”

A slight smirk appeared at the mention of his father’s familial pride, which bordered on arrogance.

Then it fell when he remembered the subject at hand, crossing his arms at the vulnerability that came with the mere thought of confessing. He didn’t want to think about opening up and getting hurt as a result.

Sensing his hesitation, Itachi spoke again. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? She’s disgusted and rejects you completely, cutting off your friendship and refusing to speak with you.”

He scowled. “Hinata wouldn’t, she’s nicer than that.”

“I’m sure she is,” Itachi assured him. From his impression of her, she seemed sweet; the type that picked up stray animals from the street. “Now what’s the best outcome? She’s madly in love with you too and you sweep her off her feet and ride into the sunset, happily ever after.”

Something in Sasuke’s chest fluttered at the idea of her acceptance, but he was stopped short by the worry that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. He was confident that if he hadn’t pursued their friendship, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance. Sure, he might have been considered a heart-throb (to his contempt), but she wasn’t swayed by shallow qualities like looks or money.

The irony; to be adored by many, but to fall for the one person that wouldn’t have paid him any mind.

“But what’s likely to happen? If she doesn’t like you in that way, then she turns you down gently because she cares about you. And because she values your friendship, she won’t break it off.”

It would sting, yet it was better than being flat out rejected and subsequently ignored.

“If she does like you, then all is well and you two will officially make a cute couple.”

Itachi’s words held sound logic that he couldn’t refute. “Sometimes I forget you have a degree in psychology.”

“And criminology,” his brother quipped. “I dual majored.”

“Right. Watch the curry,” Sasuke gestured to the pot that was steaming profusely.

“Ah,” the chef quickly grabbed the wooden spoon and set to mixing.

Gathering the knife and cutting board, he placed them in the sink and rolled up his sleeves. He contemplated while he washed the utensils. As he thought about the potential outcomes of confessing, a strange combination of anxiety and hope churned in his stomach.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

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Thursday 28th July Prompt - Soul Marks on the arm that Ed lost.


Roy walked forward on hesitant steps, unsure of his welcome right this moment.

Ed sat on the window seat of their shared bedroom, his whole posture withdrawn, his shoulders hunched over and his messy ponytail obscuring his features. Roy was positive he’d noticed his entrance, but Ed made no move to acknowledge him.

Roy sighed softly, his stomach feeling tight at the picture of misery Ed made, and drew on his not unlimited well of patience to offer some comfort.

He couldn’t begin to understand what Ed was going through.

He crossed over the last few steps that separated them, and laid a gentle hand on Ed’s shoulder. He knew he wouldn’t need to speak – Ed had always hated silences, between them especially, and within minutes he was proved right.

“It was supposed to work,” Ed uttered, the disappointment in his tone palpable.

Encouraged by his willingness to at least discuss the matter, he let his hand trail higher over Ed’s shoulder, to rest where flesh met automail. He chose his words with care, “It was always a gamble, and a lesser man, or alchemist for that matter, would not have been able to accomplish what you did. You have your brother back, Edward,” he reminded him.

“I know!” Ed burst out, finally turning his face towards Roy, and his golden eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “And I’m so glad for him, so fucking glad…but…” he trailed off, glancing down at his lap where his automail hand clenched against his thigh. “…but it was meant to fix me too. I wanted to be whole.”

“Oh Ed,” Roy whispered. “You don’t need fixing…” He brought his other hand up to cup Ed’s cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

“It’s not the leg or the arm that matters,” Ed continued, “it’s what was on it…”

Roy’s eyes closed in sudden understanding, cursing himself inwardly for not realising what exactly was bothering Ed – his beautiful, stubborn Ed, who faced the world with courage and a grin, and was so used to shrugging off his wounds that even Roy had difficulty recognising them.

He’d said it didn’t matter, the fact that he did not bear Roy’s name on his body, despite his own marking Roy’s hip. Roy had certainly never thought less of him for it – the soul mark was just a mark, such a small thing in comparison to what they shared.

And perhaps he’d truly not minded, until the possibility had been lost to him.

With a deep breath, Roy opened his eyes, his expression serious as he held Ed’s gaze. “Ed, I want you to listen to me,” he began, reaching into the belt of his military uniform, hand closing around the item that most military personnel carried as standard. With his other hand, he drew Ed’s right arm up towards him, uncurling the fingers one by one until Ed’s hand rested in the palm of his own.

“For all the soul-mates in the world, most are never lucky enough to find theirs.” He lifted the pen-knife and made the first mark in the metal of Ed’s palm. “Soul-marks are an aid, a physical symbol of a bond, and though they’re important, true, they’re only as important as you wish them to be.”

He started on the second mark. “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, and I would even without the bond. I want you to know you have always been mine…and I have always been yours.”

He continued to scratch into the automail, eyes still on Ed. “I want you to know you have always been whole to me, Ed, but if a mark is what you need to feel it too, then so be it.”

He finished the last of the marks, and dropped the arm holding the pen-knife to the side.

And Ed, whose tears had dried, who stared up at Roy with something very much like wonder, slowly withdrew his hand from Roy’s, and glanced down, his mouth forming an “oh” of surprise as he took in the three little letters now carved into the palm of his hand – not the same as on his flesh, but the meaning was there, and they were his, just as the man.


Before Roy could even brace himself, Ed was flinging himself into his arms, and all he could do was hold on tight to the other half of him, the one person who truly made him whole.  

lips touch, part 11

Well I’ve decided to add five extra chapters to this fic, since it is by far the most well-read fic I’ve done and seems to be the thing you guys like the most.

This chapter is based the idea that cigarettes are a metaphor within the Turnadette relationship. We can see how far their relationship has progressed based on the way they treat their cigs and each other in relation to their cigs . Of course, cigarettes symbolise desire as well (I’ve written an essay about this, it isn’t as far-fetched as it may sound)+ I really enjoy S02X03. Enjoy!


“Penny for your thoughts?” Patrick asks and leans against the wall next to Sister Bernadette. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles softly.

“They’re not that interesting, really,” she says.

Patrick lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag. He feels tired and hungry, but it pales in comparison to what Sister Bernadette must feel; the little nun looks as if she’s asleep on her feet. The delivery they’ve just attended took twenty hours, and she was there for all of them. The adrenaline that is in her system must be wearing off, allowing her fatigue to catch up with her. She still has to cycle a few miles back to Nonnatus through the dark streets of Poplar. Patrick wonders whether the other nuns will allow her to sleep in, or whether she’s still expected to rise with them in the morning and pray.

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Book recs for Gryffindors!

Gif source | More recs: gryffindor (pt. 2), hufflepuff (pt. 1 and pt. 2), ravenclaw (pt. 1 and pt. 2), slytherin (pt. 1and pt. 2) | text by @viegsen and @juan-nieves

House traits: brave, daring, chivalrous, strong willed, just, honorable, courteous, reckless, short tempered, disregard for rules

  • JUSTICE: WHAT’S THE RIGHT THING TO DO, by Michael J. Sandel - non fiction - Gryffindors care about justice, but knowing what’s the right thing to do isn’t always easy (as Hermione found out when her well intentioned plan to free the house elves didn’t exactly pan out). This book ponders on ethical dilemmas and the meaning of justice, and will help a Gryffindor navigate the grey areas of life.
  • THE HUNGER GAMES, by Suzanne Collins - YA; dystopia; romance - Well I don’t have to tell you about the plot of The Hunger Games, do I? IMO it’s pretty clear that Katniss is a Gryffindor, all that poaching and volunteering to go to a death arena in the place of her sister, and sticking it to the Capitol, then joining a revolution… girl couldn’t be more Gryffindor if she was carrying around Godric’s sword instead of a bow and arrow.
  • THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL, by Baroness Emma Orczy - historical fiction; adventure; romance - In the height of the French Revolution’s Terror, a mysterious English gentleman known only as the “Scarlet Pimpernel” recklessly risks his own life in order to rescue men, women and children condemned to die at the guillotine, and smuggles them out of France in daring escapes. Who is this brave fellow? Why, a Gryffindor, obviously.
  • THE ASSASSIN’S CURSE, by Cassandra Rose Clarke - YA; fantasy; romance - Ananna of the Tanarau is a pirate. When her parents try to marry her off to a guy from another pirate clan, she escapes, but the scorned clan sends an assassin after her. Problem: while fighting him, Ananna accidentally binds them together with a curse that can only be broken after three impossible tasks are completed. You guys, Ananna is such a Gryffindor - I mean, strong willed? check. Daring? check. Short tempered? Disregard for rules? check AND check. She’s awesome, and reading about her adventures with Naji, the moody assassin is a delight. Girl power! Lesbian princesses! Hilarious manticores! Shitty wizards! This book’s got it all.
  • LORD OF THE RINGS, by J.R.R. Tolkien - fantasy - LotR is really all about adventure, courage, friendship,  honor, daring, fighting against evil and all that, and there are so many Gryffindors in this story. Isn’t everyone from the Fellowship a Gryffindor?
  • JANE EYRE, by Charlotte Brontë - romance - Jane Eyre is a boss. Everyone likes to talk about Mr. Rochester, but what most struck me when reading this was that Jane had nerves of steel, and that is a huge Gryffindor trait. She stands up against bullies all her life, she has an inate sense of justice, and doesn’t take any shit from Mr Rochester, and when she leaves his house without a penny in her pocket it’s like, damn, this girl is brave as hale.
  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, by Jane Austen - romance - Isn’t Elizabeth a total Gryffindor? She takes no one’s shit and has a brave streak that shows when she stays true to herself, standing up to everyone that tells her she’s wrong in doing so. She has pride, a very strong sense of right and wrong, and can’t stand the thought of someone being mistreated for having some sort of disadvantage. She also jumps to conclusions and assumes a lot, which tends to bite her in the ass in more than one ocasion (again, Hermione much?).
  • NORTH & SOUTH, by Elizabeth Gaskell - romance - North & South is kind of like Pride & Prejudice in the Industrial Revolution. Basically imagine Mr. Darcy as an industrialist and Margaret as a gently-bred country girl who moves to a manufacturing town and is appalled by the working conditions, general poverty, etc, so she takes up the fight against social injustice, which invariably puts her at odds with Mr. Thornton. Now, he might be a (delicious) Slytherin but damn if Margaret isn’t a Gryffindor: strong willed and just and brave (and also a little reckless tbh). (Also I’ll have you Gryffindors know that you got my top 3 favourite romances, JE, P&P, and N&S).
  • HIS DARK MATERIALS, by Philip Pullman - fantasy; YA - This epic fantasy trilogy has everything a Gryffindor would love to read about: a story set in an unknown and fantastical place, brave and adventurous characters, creatures that are kinda like a permanent patronus (but more awesome than that tbh), and really creepy villains. I’m not gonna spoil you on these books because it’s really great going into them not knowing much, but I’ll just say you should pick up your lion daemon and follow Lyra while she carries on her quest to save her friend and then oh so much more.
  • THE DIVINERS, by Libba Bray - YA; fantasy - A lot about this novel feels very reminiscent of Harry Potter as character: you get a girl that wants to get out of a place filled with not very nice memories, a special power that puts her in quite a dangerous situation, and a brave nature that leads her to get involved in spite of her fear. Set in the 1920s and with a plot that centers around mysterious murders, this book features an obscure villain Gryffindors would both like to read about and take down themselves.
  • THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING, by T.H. White - fantasy - This is kind of an off-beat retelling of the Arthurian legends, and what could possibly be more Gryffindor than King Arthur and his brave knights and all that stuff about chivalry and quests, etc? I’m just gonna leave you guys with a quote from the book, which sounds just like something Dumbledore would say: “The bravest people are the ones who don’t mind looking like cowards”.
  • THE THREE MUSKETEERS, by Alexandre Dumas - historical fiction - I thought of Gryffindor for this book because reading it is the equivalent of Harry checking out Snape’s memories and finding out the Marauders were kiiiind of a bunch of dicks. Because turns out, so were the Musketeers! Sometimes the combination of certain Gryffindor traits like short temper, recklessness and disregard for rules (and a little arrogance, lbr) ends up being quite unsavoury.

Saw an apparition of an angel on the way to work this morning. Classic white robed form with iridescent rainbow wings superimposed on clouds that just happen to have the right structure to trigger such pattern recognition.

It took me five full minutes to realize I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t on edge expecting an assault. I was watching the image with the same detachment as watching people in the distance.

I was okay.

The head of the apparition, originally facing towards the sun, turned towards me. The face refracted into three images. The one that faced me directly wore a glowing mask that obscured all features. The one that half turned towards me held feminine features and was smiling warmly. The one that barely turned away from the sun held masculine features and was staring forward with confidence. All three regarded me for a moment, then faced back to the sun without comment.

I continued the drive to work, overshadowed by the apparition, in peace and comfort. When I turned into the parking lot, the angel disappeared and only high clouds remained.

What with all the video game AUs going around now, what about an Angelic Layer ML AU? Adrien is the established promotional face of Angelic Layer, a battle doll toy series produced by his father’s multimillion Piffle Company, which in turn is an offshoot of Gabriel’s larger Agreste Artisanal Robotics Corporation (which develops high fashion prosthetics and tech wearables). He’s the champion of the youth tournaments with his tough and agile Chat Noir Angel. Marinette, who is a tinkerer and loves design, develops a crush on Adrien and is inspired to get into Angelic Layer herself after seeing him talk about how much he loves the game and how special his Angel is to him in an interview. She winds up designing and customizing her own Angel for speed and range, and names her Ladybug for good luck. (Perhaps Tikki and Plagg are mysterious shopkeepers who help them purchase, customize, and repair their Angels?)

For a long while Marinette only plays casually against her friends and parents (Papa Dupain is particularly good but she learns to trump even him after many afternoons spent in Layer cafés). By the time she starts demolishing just about everyone around with no effort Alya suggests she try entering the youth tournament. Marinette is unsure about the idea at first, but when Alya points out that if she makes it to the top she’ll have a chance to meet and battle Adrien and Chat Noir, Mari suddenly finds all her motivation and then some.

In all of this Hawkmoth is probably this mysterious anonymous adult Deus with a custom headset that obscures his features and a wide array of Angels that he switches between for each battle depending on his opponents’ weaknesses. He occasionally refers to his Angels as Demons and nobody can ever tell if he’s doing so jokingly or not; interviewers tend to just laugh nervously whenever it comes up. He’s the worldwide champion of all the AL leagues and no one can remember him ever being beaten. There are also rumours that he fights dirty, and that he steals and modifies other people’s custom Angels for his own use, but no proof has ever been brought against him.

Alternatively: Adrien is the promotional face for the line, but only that — he isn’t allowed to battle with the pristine high-end Angels he models with, much as he longs to participate in the game. When he sees the incredibly skilled and mysterious newcomer Deus and her Angel Ladybug rising rapidly through the ranks of the Angelic Layer league, he’s inspired to secretly purchase and customize his own personal Angel, one that’s all his and doesn’t come from his father. Getting a headset with a tinted visor to hide his identity, he starts entering tournaments with his Chat Noir Angel and attempts to earn a chance to prove his worth against his Lady.

Submitted by @mirthalia