shield sister

Little Sister Quill

Avengers x Reader x Guardians Of The Galaxy

Prompt: You’re the sister of the famous Peter Quill…or Starlord as the galaxy knows him, anyways he finds out that you actually exist and what happened to you when you were young.

Requested by: No one

Written By: mrs.stankfa - Anna

Reader: Could be any

Warning: Language

A/N: You’re about twenty-five
Also sorry because I wrote this at like three in the morning…
=====

Originally posted by yahooentertainment

Age Five

You watched as a light took off with your brother still in whatever had taken you away hours before, whatever blue things were in that ship had decided against taking you along with your brother and dropped you back onto the earth’s floor.

But with a price.

Your five-year-old self didn’t understand what could’ve happened, you barely understood what had happened to your mother before the light had kidnapped you and your brother. 

It was morning when you woke up in the grass that was wet from the night before and the sun shown bright around the whole grounds of the hospital grounds….which didn’t have a hospital building anymore. 

Instead of the building you left behind, it was an open field with literally nothing.

Age Fourteen

By now you had realized that your family really was gone, no trace of them was anywhere. You had checked hospitals, morgues, even birth certificates, (you had become quite skilled in the hacking field) your families information was there but it seemed after you and brother left, everything just…..cut off.

So now you used your abilities to try and find your brother or at least find out what happened to him yet you never could, it’s as if he disappeared right with your family.

You lived in a van that you had stolen when you were eleven and a half, you had to survive, so you taught yourself how to drive…..at the age of eleven.

Age Eighteen

“Agent Quill, are you alright?” A man questions while placing a hand on your cheek, the blood dripping down as your head fell back against the wall.

“I…I tried.” You whisper as more blood starts to drip down from the corner of your mouth.

“No, you did fine,” Coulson states while shaking his head. “Fitzsimmons left wing now.”

“On our way sir, it’s a little difficult-”

Coulson cuts the coms so you couldn’t hear anymore. You shake your head again, drawing his attention back to you.

“I…I-I didn’t.” You mumble while weakly gesturing to the dead agents that lay next to you. “Look at them, they’re all dead.”

“You still protected the secret, the information that we’ve trusted you with since you were sixteen,” Coulson explains, applying more pressure to the wound that was causing the most trouble in your abdomen area.

“Thank you, Coulson.’ You whisper while squinting your eyes closed because of the pain. “For everything, for taking me in when I was fourteen, to caring….everything.”

“Y/N, stop. You’re going to be fine.” Coulson scoffs.

“I love you.”

Age Twenty-One

“You’re finally old enough to actually legally celebrate with us!” Tony cheers while throwing his hands in the air as you sip slowly on the drink that he had made you minutes before.

“Tony, stop overwhelming her/him so much. She/He drank before, this is just like any other-”

“No, Natasha.” Tony sarcastically interrupts. “She’s legally allowed to do this now.”

“Since when have you cared?!” You laugh, along with the rest of the team. “I’m pretty sure you were always the one to hand me the drinks in the first place!”

“Shut up. You’re still younger and I can take you down any day.” Tony seethes.

“At least buy me dinner first!” You whine.

“That’s it!”

“Tony! With her/his abilities, she/he can kick your as with just a wave of her/his hand!” Clint yells, stopping Tony from rushing after you. You triumphantly smirk while taking another sip of your drink.

“Look at her smirk, look at that devil.”

Age Twenty-Five

You had officially turned twenty-five three days ago, the Avengers had thrown you a large party to celebrate and now here you all were. Resting away the parties that you had had.

The Avengers had taken the place of your lost family, each of them helping through the hardships that you faced. Each offering something that would help you heal.

The elevators opening interrupt you from your thoughts, you quickly shake your head and look over the edge of the couch to see Fury walking in with a group of people. A man, a…green? woman, a raccoon, a tree, and a buff gray guy with red tattoos.

Fury’s eye scans across the room and stops on you laying on top of an unconscious Steve/Bucky. (Literally, don’t ask).

“Agent Quill.” Fury states.

“Pirate!” Both you and Tony salute, earning an eye roll from the man.

“I need to speak with you privately.” Fury states with an irritated sigh.

“Why? I haven’t broken any rules…..this hour.” You trail off. “Shit nevermind, but Tony said that he wouldn’t tell!”

“I didn’t tell!” Tony whines, Fury shakes his head.

“We will discuss whatever…that is supposed to be later.” He sighs. “This is a more important matter.”

“What’s more important than streaking across Times Square while shooting a picture of you on the jumbotron?” 

“You idiots did what?”

Head canon that whenever Natasha is asked sexist questions by the media, the boys just keep going to increasingly ridiculous lengths to get there and answer the question instead.

Reporter: Do you ever feel resentment for this job reducing the possibility of having a family?
Bruce, strolling by: I don’t know, I never really thought about having a family to begin with. I prefer spending my time in the company of friends.

Reporter: Do you feel like you have to be super girly to stand out or super masculine to fit in with all the men?
Steve, jumping over from his own group of reporters: See, that’s what I love about the 21st century. Lots of room for gender expression however you want. *pointed Disappointed Captain Look*

Reporter: Do you think your emotions ever get the best of you on the field?
Thor, landing with Mjolnir: I have spent many years learning to control my pride on the battlefield and not lose my head during a fight. I thank my shield brothers and sister for helping me.

Reporter: How do you come out of a fight looking so fabulous?
Tony, flying in on a private helicopter probably: It’s just genetics, dear. I always look fabulous. I looked fabulous while dying.

Reporter:  What kind of product do you use in your hair?
Bucky, ziplining in from the next building over: L’oreal. *hands out the expertly photoshopped ad Darcy made of him in a L’oreal ad*

Reporter: What kind of diet do you use to stay in shape?
Clint, leaping out of an air vent: You know, I’ve been thinking of trying paleo, but this is all natural. Pizza for days, baby. Keeping aliens from destroying the world tends to burn a few calories.

6

BLACK SISTERS + doodles.

Something That Happened

So I was playing a game with my sister, my dad as the DM, and my dad’s friend. There’s an awesome shield, and my sister’s character, a paladin, refuses it.

DM: You do know Paladins are allowed to take treasure, right?
Me: Take the shield, Thomas (her character).
Her (IC): Uh…maybe…
Dad’s friend’s character: No? Okay. *throws it out the window*

Robbie Reyes is coming back to AoS … my crops have been watered, my skin is clear, the sun is shining, justice exists in the world again …

“Try not to die, Huntress,” she says as the Harvesters roar in over the dunes. 

Imperious, Eris thinks - if ever there were a woman born to be a Queen, this is she. No wonder she is the source of so many legends - one glimpse of her bright armor, gleaming in the ruddy light of Martian noon, and Eris believes them all.

Beside glorious Wei Ning, the wall of shield-sisters holds firm, unconcerned with the ineffective Harvester-fire, hardly blinking as the troops drop.

There are more than Eris expected. More than any of them expected - far more. None seem concerned. Behind the line of Titans, countless Ghosts work through the wreckage of the Collapse to recover…something. Something they feel is important - important enough to make a stand.

She pulls the rifle from her back. It has been her crutch for the last month, the tool she uses to navigate the endless sight-lines of the wide open sands, and the legion that has hosted her these past few months has not stopped needling her over it. 

A greenhorn’s weapon, they used to tell her. A coward’s weapon. The whispers faded when they heard her name, when they saw the overlapping tally marks etched the full length of the long, worn barrel - when they heard what she had done at the Gap. Now she recognizes the gentle ribbing for what it is; some sort of Titan bonding behavior. 

And they call the Hunters strange.

“Shields!” Wei Ning yells, as barrages from the distant Colossi rain down upon the Wards that blossom at her call. Dull explosions, visible through purple voidlight, shatter atop their heads, but their leader stares through it all, toward the lines of Phalanxes that march over blood-red dunes. 

“Hold, Sisters,” she says, arms clasped behind her back, “Until you can smell them.” 

Two Titans to a Ward. One carrying the Blessing, one the Fist. It is a mark of respect that Eris shares the Ward of Wei Ning and her shield-sister; the Ward of the commander of the Martian Shield-Lines - not just in name, but in the heart of every Titan on the planet. 

Either that, or it means Wei Ning thinks she cannot take care of herself.

Not a Queen, Eris thinks, an Empress.

Psions open fire from a distance, and Eris wonders again why they cannot understand that their bullets will never penetrate the Ward. Something very much like fear drives the legions here, some sick desperation that Eris can sense in every ambush, every assault. Not for the first time she wonders what forced the Cabal to Mars.

The Phalanxes grow larger, Ghosts still buzzing frantically through half-alive computing systems.

“Hold,” Wei Ning says again, this time a whisper that only Eris can hear, and she is certain the Titan is talking to herself. “Huntress, I’m afraid your long rifle may be useless when the fighting grows close. There’s still time to trade it out for a real weapon.”

Eris hears the laughter on her voice, as the huge woman pulls the sleek shotgun from the holster on her back, leans it back against her shoulder. The words on her right gauntlet glint purple-red; words that any Guardian stationed on Mars for more than a week can recite by heart.

“I’ll try to leave some for you,” Eris says, checking her magazine, and beside her Wei Ning’s shield-sister chuckles. 

She has seen Wei Ning’s Lines fight before, has watched them fall upon unsuspecting legions like the eagles from the old books, and she has learned enough about their kind that she knows it must kill their leader to stand and wait and defend, rather than take the fight to the Cabal. And yet that is what they do, and the muffled explosions beyond the Wards do not shake the grim calm of the Titans.

It is Wei Ning who leads the charge at last, as she always does, tearing from the Ward like a bolt of lightning, her fist shattering the skull of a legionnaire, two quick coughs from her shotgun felling the closest of the Phalanxes.

Eris has danced this dance before, and by the time the Titan whose Ward she shares has reached the battle line, Eris has neatly sidestepped from the bubble, lifted her rifle, and removed the head of a Centurion.

One, she thinks, and then the fight is on.

Wei Ning, to Eris’ dismay, is right. Landing shots grows more and more difficult as the lines blur, as Titans and Phalanxes crash together and the lone Huntress is buffeted by the changing tides of battle. Still, she is quick and sharp enough to find a line, here and there, and when she does she does not miss.

The Cabal do not stop. At first, they fall like the cannon fodder they are, but slowly - so slowly Eris is not certain that the Titans see it, close as they are - the sheer numbers begin to overwhelm the lines of gleaming plate. They are being pushed back; herded, almost. But wherever the Cabal begin to gain the upper hand, Wei Ning crashes through them, dragging her Shield-Sisters behind her, leaving corpses in her wake.

Eris knows that it will not be enough. 

She has abandoned her rifle, and now it is her cannon that does her bloody work. Before long her arms ache from its tireless kick, but still the Cabal come in an unending wave, their fear of death outweighed by their fear of whatever waits behind them. And die they do, in droves; they fall to Wei Ning’s fist, they fall to Eris’ cannon, they fall to callous lines of barking shotguns. 

Then a Titan falls. A Defender, caught off guard when her Ward finally shatters. And then another. The purple blisters on the dust begin to drop, and no new Wards blossom to take their place. The Lines shift, to shield the fallen, to allow for Ghost revival. And still the Ghosts ask for time. 

Across the dunes, Wei Ning, indomitable, drives her knee into the face of a Colossus, takes its head with her, but around her the Lines have begun to falter. Eris pulls her rifle from its sling again, yells into the screaming wind and sand, yells to call for a retreat; but this is not her Line, this is not her planet, and these are not Hunters.

It is not until Wei Ning, standing strong atop a dune, makes a motion with her hand that the Lines begin to fall back toward lonely Eris Morn, auto rifles keeping the ever-advancing wall of Cabal shields at bay as best they can, Eris’ own scope preying on those stupid enough to show their ugly faces.

The Ghosts are slow, so slow, but whatever they want from this dead place will have to be taken soon or be lost to the relentless march of the Cabal. Eris hopes that it is worth the ammunition, because their re-grouping has become a full-blown retreat, has become the desperate, crouching, backwards shuffle that Eris remembers from the Gap, and Traveler take her if she will watch another Guardian die.

The Light finds her knives, and the Trance consumes her. She runs through lines of retreating Titans, skips through rows of bulky armor now dulled by sand and munitions-fire, and she carves a hungry path through the advancing Cabal towards Wei Ning, towards the woman who will - who must - pull them from this disaster. 

She reaches the vanguard at last, crackling Light dripping from her armor, and with a final spinning lunge she breaks through to Wei Ning and her shield-sister, her commander’s shotgun still couched in tireless arms, hands still clenched into unbreakable fists.

“Wei Ning! We must leave!” she yells, but Wei Ning does not turn to acknowledge her. 

“Now!” she continues, “Before the Ghosts are taken!”

“Go!” Wei Ning screams, fury in her voice, and she thrusts her shield-sister towards the last defensible position in front of the Ghosts, to where they will make their final stand. And then she turns the full weight of her gaze upon Eris.

“Get behind me,” she growls, and Eris learns what it is like to fight back-to-back with her Empress of Fist and Thunder.

Together they hold the line, buying time for the scattered lines of Titans to retreat. Eris’ rifle may be slow but she is faster than any Titan, and with Wei Ning beside her there is nothing she cannot kill. They kill and kill and kill, with fist and knife and rifle, until Wei Ning grabs Eris and forces her to run, the massive Titan shielding her with nothing but her own bulk.

Eris sprints after the commander, breathing hard, diving in and out of the limited cover, and she is certain that the last sound she hears will be the hiss of Cabal artillery.

Wei Ning does not see the motion, far to their right, that pulls Eris to a stop. She skates ahead, and before long Eris is alone, sheltering behind the ruins of an ancient something. Eris has always seen more than most, and what she sees now makes her blood run cold. In the hollow of a dune, a Titan - her own Titan, the same Defender whose ward she shares - is pinned between two advancing lines of Phalanxes. As she watches, one of them raises a shield to block a shotgun’s shell, and with the same motion it smashes the Titan to the ground. 

Eris runs. She runs over the sand that does its best to trip her, runs through the hail of bullets and rocket-fire, runs toward the tiny purple shape in the distance, not noticing when her shields begin to chatter static.

She is not fast enough. The Phalanx lifts its shield again, slamming the edge into the chest-plate of the fallen Titan; once, twice, three times, and as Eris leaps from the edge of the dune she reaches forward through that endless distance and she pulls - and then she is there, and her long rifle does a shotgun’s work, hitting the Phalanx center-mass before her knife finds the beast’s throat, purple ichor blooming in the sky, and then she is in the dirt, leaning her full weight against the immovable mass of full Titan-plate, struggling even to shift it, as her shields fail and a bullet strikes her arm.

She screams, drops her rifle. Another hits her leg, and she falls to the ground. Around her, the ring of Phalanxes closes. She stares down the barrels of a dozen slug throwers, stares at them and snarls, but before she can lift her cannon something howls out of the sky and the ground shatters in blue arc-light, hurling Cabal soldiers away as though they are children’s toys. Then Wei Ning is beside her, auto rifle laughing at the Darkness, and before long there are no enemies left. With one hand she lifts her fallen squad-mate and hefts her over the shoulders of another Titan who skates away.

She pulls Eris to her feet as well, and her Ghost finally recalibrates and catches up with the damage she’s taken. The pain lingers, and Wei Ning lets Eris lean on a shoulder as they retreat.

“Ghosts have what they came for!” she yells, and Eris nods, trying to catch her breath. 

“What do they want here?” She yells back, as distant Harvesters disgorge yet more troops onto sand burned to glass. She reaches for her long rifle out of habit.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. They can have the place, and may they choke on the dust. Let’s go.”

“Wait. My gun.”

“My shield-sisters have already retreated. We’re not staying. You can get a new one.”

“I’m not leaving my gun!” Eris says, pulling away from Wei Ning.

“Hunters,” the Titan mutters, but she accompanies Eris back to the crater she made herself, and stands guard as Eris retrieves her worn rifle.

The Titans are waiting for them when they return at last, over dunes and away from the ruins the Cabal seem to want so badly, inside a claustrophobic bunker open to the Martian air. Wei Ning passes her helm to a Titan, then kneels in front of her battered comrade. Eris slumps to the ground, pulls her own helmet from her head, and leans against the comfortable weight of her rifle.

“Good eyes, Huntress,” Wei Ning says, not looking as she lightly slaps the Titan’s cheeks. “I should have noticed.”

“How is she?”

“She’ll live. Thanks to you. I suppose that’s what they call - ” her mouth curls into a grin - “‘Fine shootin’.”

Eris smiles a tired half-smile. Her whole body aches. She does not understand how this human wrecking ball appears none the worse for wear, but Wei Ning stands and offers her a hand. Eris takes it, and lets the woman pull her to her feet for the second time.

“You’re no Titan,” says Wei Ning, “But I name you shield-sister nonetheless. You can fight at my back any day, Eris Morn.”

Aside from a handful of appreciative grunts, no one seems to notice. The Titans are already intent on their next objective, but it is enough for Eris that a few nod in her direction. She cannot help the grin that spreads across her face then, as she returns her long rifle to its holster and trails her Empress back out into the alien light.

Once, she had thought that Twilight Gap would break them. Perhaps not. Perhaps it has made them stronger.

Perhaps this is what Pack feels like.

8

We made WWII Cap and SSR Peggy Carter QR codes for Animal Crossing: New Leaf! Free for any star-spangled folks to use.

We accept requests here

6
Soulmates

Okay. NEW SERIES! I had to do it because my love for AJ is beginning to over take my whole life. I did this one based off an AU prompt that’s been floating around. Basically the OC has an antique necklace that her grandma gave her that’s got supposed special powers to find her soulmate. She obviously doesn’t believe that, until she meet AJ Styles (the man she’s been crushing on for a while now), in person for the first time and something odd happens.
I hope you all like it!

Tag list: (Shield sisters get tagged no matter what. Even if they don’t like AJ, *Cough cough* Asylum *Cough, cough*) @i-kneel-for-king-loki @straight-outta-the-asylum @livingthestrongstyle @the-geekgoddes @geekoftv @planetahmane @ajstylesworld @littledeadrottinghood @thatwrestlingfan91 @lovemybtrboys @wrestlingbabe @xstylesxclashx @littlebluespoon @gurimujox @superrezzy00 @stardustmoonlightflower @blondekel77 @pjanina13 @wrestlingnoob @lady-laura-speaks @phenominalstyles @caffeineandreveries

Warnings: FLUFF
Word Count: 2869 (whoops)

Chapter One: Electricity

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Unexpected Bonds

@a-court-of-throne-of-glass


Chapter One

“Feyre” Rhysand said tentatively. She knew that it was the voice he reserved for when he wanted her to do something, something she wouldn’t want to do. She glanced at him, eyes full of suspicion. “What?” The returning smile that he gave her was dazzling, they had seen a century together and her breath still hitched when he looked at her like that.
“I need you to catch the Suriel for me.”
“No way! Not a chance Rhys. Every time I ensnare that thing it tells me a goddam secret about one us and I have had enough of its interfering gossip.” Feyre’s face reddened, she was at the end with the Suriel. It had told her that Rhys was her mate, it had told anybody who would listen what Amren really was, it had told her that Nesta and Cassian were having a baby before they even knew themselves and it had been the one to tell her that they would lose Mor in the war. It told her that there was nothing any of them could do to stop it too.
“I need to hear some of that interfering gossip.”  Her jaw dropped, Rhys never wanted to hear anything the Suriel had to say. She went to open her mouth but he cut her off.
“It’s about Azriel…and Elain.” All of the anger subsided in Feyre immediately. She knew that Mor’s death destroyed a part of Az, she understood that but, she couldn’t help but notice the shy glances between the shadow-singer and her sister. She saw the way that he looked at her, knew that look, it reminded her of the way Rhys looked at her. She recalled their first meeting, all those years ago when her sisters were still mortal. She remembered thinking how they seemed to gravitate toward each other even then. A low sigh escaped Feyre’s lips.  
“Get me a cloak and a chicken.” She glowered. Rhysand beamed at her.

For three incredibly long hours the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court waited, crouched in a tree for the Suriel to take the bait. The excitement emanating from Rhys only pissed her off further. Insufferable busy body she thought to herself. It took no effort for her to catch the Suriel now, the cloak and chicken were just for show, the bastard practically threw itself at Feyre’s feet, eager to tell her anything about her life or her friends’. Rhys’ ears pricked as the snare snapped into place, delight spread across his perfect feautures, she groaned. “Here we go.”
The grotesque withered faerie looked up at them, it’s grey gnarled fingers dramatically tapping together. Tap, tap, tap. Feyre rolled her eyes.        
“High Lady.” It began, it’s voice ancient and cruel and yet young and beautiful. “And your mate I see.” It’s delight was palpable. “You have one question then release me.”
Rhysand stepped forward. “I have the question, it’s regarding Azriel and Elain.” “Ah yes, the shadow-singer. It’s a pity about the truth teller, he loved her so deeply, a love unwavering.” Rhys sagged slightly in spite of himself.
It had been a century since his cousin had died, and a century that he has had to watch his friend suffering. Azriel had blamed himself for Mor’s death, but she had sacrificed herself for all of them, for Prythian.
“Ask your question High Lord, so your mate might free me.”
“Is there any chance for them?” He asked, his voice hollow.
Feyre gripped her knife beginning to cut it free of the crude snare she had built for it.
“There’s always a chance for mates.” The Suriel replied feigning boredom.
“WHAT?!” Rhys and Feyre exclaimed together.
Feyre’s head was spinning, her thoughts racing too fast to focus. But Lucien she thought. Ninety years they had spent keeping Elain away from Lucien. He had persisted but Elain was adamant she didn’t want the bond, didn’t feel the bond. Nesta had shielded her sister from him so fiercely she had almost taken his other eye.
“Lucien.” Feyre voiced aloud.
“Oh please, The High Lord of the Autumn court claims mates more often than the water wraiths claim they are hungry.”
Rhys and Feyre gawped as the spindly bodied faerie got to its feet, pulling its new cloak around itself. They watched it begin to walk away before it turned and gave Feyre a knowing look. Here we go she thought the secret nobody wants to hear.
“Of course though, Lucien only does so to cover his true feelings.” It paused theatrically waiting for Feyre to bite, but she wasn’t going to. She didn’t need to. Rhys did. “True feelings?” He queried.        
“Oh you didn’t know? Well it’s obvious isn’t it? Lucien has been in love with Tamlin for 300 years.” And that was it, the Suriel was gone, bounding into the trees and out of sight. Feyre groaned again as she winnowed back to Velaris.

Fic Request: Baby Time

9. “You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”
45. “You’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final.”
Steve Rogers x Reader
Words: 1045

For @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye. I’m sorry this took me a little while!!


“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!” Steve argued helplessly as Y/N shoved him off the mattress with her foot.

“Well this bed isn’t big enough for both of us tonight, so you get the couch. I’m too hot and you radiate heat like a reactor, so to the couch with you, Rogers.”

Steve stood and leaned over her on the bed, putting one hand to the side and one hand on top of her incredibly swollen belly. “Do I have to wait until he’s born to come back to bed with my wife?”

“No, you just have to wait until I get cold again.” Y/N pouted.

“Alright babe, anything for you.” he chuckled, kissed her goodnight and took his pillow to the couch on the other side of the room. She had a point, it was a hot night. Steve stretched out and closed his eyes, thankful that this couch was the comfortable one.

Not more than two hours later, he was awakened by her calling him. The sound of her trembling voice had him leaping from the couch, ready for anything.

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Uncontrollable

Request/Summary: After Ward turned to HYDRA, you knew that - as his sister - you couldn’t make the slightest mistake at S.H.I.E.L.D as all eyes were on you. In the field with Coulson, things don’t go as planned.

Pairings: agent coulson x platonic!reader

Words: 2128

Warnings: tiny bit of angst (but i’m not good at writing angst so bear with me)

Specific time/Important info: this is set at some point near the start of season 4 :)

@straightasdeanwinchester ‘s writing challenge prompts: #56 “I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever”, #57 “You’re family!”, #98  “This is why I hide the coffee from you”


“No, y/n isn’t going on this mission. She’s too young.”

“Ex-excuse me? I mean, isn’t it the slightest bit coincidental that my age wasn’t an issue before Grant turned to Hydra?” Saying that phrase was like saying Voldemort at Hogwarts- you could visibly see how uncomfortable it made the Shield agents around you. Especially the one in front of you. You didn’t even know him well enough to know his name, but you did know he was eager to make an excuse for you to not have the chance to compromise the mission. “Come on guys, what happened to ‘a team that trusts is a team that triumphs’?” you mocked Director Mace’s key phrase.

“I think yo-”

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Maiden’s Unfair Heart

Warning: THIS IS EXTREMELY LONG. Also, this fic takes place in the Middle Ages so sexism is an obvious. Of course 21st century Harry wouldn’t dare say these things, however please keep the time era in mind. The girl’s name is Jo only because this story is an original story with Harry’s name instead of the original: Michael H. Fitz. This one shot is inspired by the novel “Ransom My Heart”. If you love History and Romance together, this is the right book for you :)

Happy reading and please give me some feedback, I beg you!

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anonymous asked:

How will the boys react when they find out s/o is made into l'Cie against their will; s/o then completes Focus and turned into crystal stasis (without the boys knowing what that Focus is)? (FFXIII AU I hope you don't mind! You don't have to answer this if you didn't play it yet)

I had to do quite a bit of research for this one, since I’m really only a fan of 15, but I think I got the gist of it…I think….(spoilers of end game, and DLC) ٩(•̤̀ᵕ•̤́๑)ᵒᵏᵎᵎᵎᵎ

Noctis

A scream, Noctis’ scream! That was the last thing you heard, before you own painful wail. Watching with tears in your eyes, as your body slowly became crystal. You had lost Noctis’ to the kingdoms crystal, and yourself had complete your  l’Cie Focus.

Only to feel everything crash around you, your body hurt, but you were alive! How! Noctis was your Focus by the gods, how did you…You only realized what was happening as you glanced up, Noctis was holding you safely in his arms, yet he looked so much older.

“Y/n?” A call echoed around you, as you glanced around, Ignis, Gladiolus, Prompto, all of them! They were all safe, but so much older.

“What happened?” You inquired, as you sat up in Noctis’ embrace, noticing you were all at at campsite.

“That’s what we’d like to know.” Gladiolus replied. “After Noct was sucked into that crystal, you were turned into a crystal yourself.”

You froze, your job wasn’t done yet, moving your hair from the side of your neck, you showed a gem in the shape of a crown, hidden behind your ear, the l’Cie’s mark not just underneath. “I am a l’Cie, my Focus, my job is to lead the Final King to his throne.”

“I’m sorry what?” Prompto called, “What’s a La cry?”

You moved from Noctis’ arms, “A l’Cie is a person that had a need to fulfill, mine is to see Noctis to the throne.”

“Can’t you just ignore it?” Noctis asked, as you shook your head. “What happens after you fulfill this purpose?”

You looked up tears in your eyes, “I don’t know, it’s the gods plan, Noctis I had no idea that it would be you.”

Noctis, placed his forehead against your own staring you in the eye, “We’ll find out together.”

You couldn’t help but cry, you knew what would happen after the Final king was lead to his throne, yet you couldn’t bare to think about it again. All within your crystal cocoon, you dreamt of your adventures with Noctis, you just couldn’t bare to think of placing that burden on the man.

*

“Come to me!” Noctis called.

You tried to be brave as you watched the man you loved sit upon a throne that was rightfully his. You tried to stop the tears as you watched the astral appear before him, yet they came as you watched him be ran through.

You powered through your tears, you powered through your body slowly becoming crystal. Each footstep getting heavier as you ascended the stairs to be at Noctis’ side. You cursed whatever god lead you to this horrid ending, you cursed yourself for falling in love with this man, and having him fall in love with you in return.

Your body collapsed onto the throne, turning the man’s head to yourself, those blue eyes never to show you that bright light again. Cradling his face in your hands, you pulled him close to give him one more kiss, only to be denied that, as you were both engulfed in your crystal status, your lips barely ghosting across his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompto

“I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this.” You muttered repeatedly, your heart hurt so bad as you scratched at your L’Cie brand on your wrist. You weren’t even certain of just how long that you’d be able to stay. Your focus was to help Prompto with Noctis. He was one of the choosen to set the King to his throne.

When Ardyn had forced Noctis into the crystal, and you didn’t turn into crystal, you had to admit you were happy, the gods couldn’t use you, but the grief all of you felt at missing such a key part of your group was too much to bare. Those ten years in the darkness, they were to come to an end, because Noctis was back.

Yet that also meant so was your time with Prompto.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Prompto asked, you had requested he meet you alone for just a few moment, prior to the start of the final battle.

You turned, embracing the man tightly, your face buried in his chest as you cried, “I love you so much Prompto.”

“Sweetie,”

“Thank you for loving me, thank you for being with me, thank you for making me yours, and yours alone.” You cried, all your words coming out. “I…I didn’t want this, I want our lives to be long, and happy.”

Prompto’s arms embraced you tightly, “What’s wrong?”

You pulled back, fishing in the front of your shirt to pull out your crystal within the shape of a gun, “I, I’m a L’Cie?’

“You’re talking like you’re some kind of mystical creature.”

“Prompto, I won’t be able to join you on your final mission, I won’t even last the night.” You cried, as you forced the gold gun like stone into his hand. “Please, Prompto, live a happy life.”

Prompto gather you in his arms, as he held you close, “I don’t know what’s going on, but is there a way to stop this?”

You shook your head, “I don’t…no…” You cry not wanting to hold onto the hope that there was some way. “Please Prompto, please just hold me, until it stops.”

Prompto nodded, he had just gotten his best friend back, now to lose you too. The man cried, as he held you tightly to his chest, he cried as your body became stiff, and he cried as a wall of crystal formed between you two.

~~~~~

Gladiolus

Gladiolus sat within his folding chair at the campsite, he was suppose to be happy, he was suppose to be more powerful, but he couldn’t stop this. He couldn’t stop this “Focus”, this curse that happened to you.

A note clinched tightly in his hand, your final words to him, all because he completed that trail.

My strong Gladiolus,

I had wish that I had told you this sooner, I will not be with you long. By the time you return I will be gone, my job, my focus done. I am a L’Cie, I explained it to Ignis, he’ll be able to fill you in.

Please don’t get mad, I know that you’re upset right now, yet I need you to be strong. Not for me, but for the boys, and for Noct, and Iris.

Oh Iris, tell her I’m sorry, I won’t be able to make it to her graduation. I know she’s going to grow up to be a wonderful woman, because she has a big brother like you.

Gladiolus, I love you so very much, and maybe if the gods see fit, maybe we can be together again. Maybe we can have that happy ending. You are so very strong My Shield, please protect your sister and your brothers. Please don’t ever think that I’m not dreaming of you, or that my heart could ever beat so strongly for anyone else.

I love you, Gladiolus Amicitia!

Gladiolus wasn’t sure of how many times he had read the last note you left him. Yet he knew that after he dealt with this Ardyn character he would find a way to bring you back.

“I promise, babe.”

~~~~~~

Ignis

“Ignis, my love.” You cooed, he was a little worse for the wear, but that was to be expected, you all had just finished the largest fight of your life for all of Eros.

Ignis turned his blind eyes to you, reaching out as he cupped your face. “How are you faring, my dear?”

You smiled softly, you had managed to divert the gods plans slightly, by making certain of Noctis survival, but still you would not be able to fix what followed. “I have, had better days. Are you hungry?”

“Y/N, you have been acting strange, since the end of the fight,” He stated. “Are you injured?”

You glanced at the horizon, seeing the sky turning to a soft purple, you didn’t have long, “Ignis it’s too much to explain at this point and our time is growing very short. My love, thank you for making me such a proud wife. I could not have wished for anything better.”

Ignis made to respond, only to stop as he felt you press your lips against his. The man wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as you trembled in the kiss. Breaking the kiss Ignis removed his glasses, that single eye staring down at you.

“My heart, I do not know as to what circumstances are to pull us apart, but let it be known, I will fight gods for you.”

You couldn’t find your words as you looked to the man you called husband, everything he promised always came true. “I love you, my husband.”

Ignis pulled you into another kiss, “I love you, my wife, please understand that I will not be too long.”

“I will be waiting.” You smiled, stepping away.

Ignis hands reached out, his blind eye was only able to see movements and your silhouette was moving out of his vision. He instead felt your arms, as they slowly dragged down his, your fingertips ghosting over each other, before he felt nothing.

“I love you.” You cried, before becoming silent.

Ignis stepped forward, as his hand touched a large piece of crystal, he felt he could almost make out your body within the center, resting his forehead against the crystal, Ignis allowed himself to weep as the sun rose over Eros for the first time in 10 years.


“I love you too.”

When your NOTP becomes a reality

Bonus :

Thimble 14화

1화 2화 3화 4화 5화 6화 7화 8화  9화 10화 11화 12화  13화


The pain is dull.

Unyielding.

You don’t remember being cleaned. You don’t remember nurses helping you into new gown. You don’t remember being moved onto fresh bedding. You don’t remember it at all.

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Let’s Play Pretend

My fellow Shield sister is first! <3 Thank you @i-kneel-for-king-loki for the request!

Prompt: (4)”You should be kissed and kissed often and by someone who knows how” (9) “You made my fingers all dirty, you better lick them clean.” (10) We are pretending to be a couple to play a prank on our friends. But I think at some point we might have quit pretending.
Featuring: Dean Ambrose

Master List Plug!

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