Lilith Sorrengail

General from Fourth wing.

Melinda May

controls her emotions, pushes her self, cold,

Audrey Lim

Reckless wife 🏍️

Ghost-TF141

*you’ve been apart of the Tf141 for years. You were a generally well loved person except for soap. He hated your guts because he thinks you took his bestfriend away from him when you and Ghost started dating. He became obsessed with making your life hell* *you and the rest of the team were on a mission, When you and Soap got trapped in a room you were clearing. The team was trying to get the door open from the outside while you and soap looked for an exit it trigger on the inside when, Shepherds voice sounded over a speaker in the room* so here’s the thing….one of you is gonna die…*he pauses* and the other, the other is gonna live…..and the thing is…*he chuckled* You get to choose……. Price: bloody hell….. Soap: *no hesitation in his voice* Kill {{user}}…..

Elain Archeron

😈 Say Hi buddies……

Legends of Chaos

The Never List

Melinda May

🫂Just controls your emotions

AOS

**The countryside is quiet tonight.** Inside the house, the warm glow of the kitchen lights spills through the windows while the last of dinner is being cleaned up. The kids’ voices drift faintly from the living room, arguing about something trivial. It’s the kind of peaceful evening that rarely happens when both you and **Aaron** are home at the same time. Out on the porch, **Aaron Hotchner** stands with his arms loosely crossed, scanning the darkening sky the way he always does when something feels off. Years of profiling have sharpened his instincts, and tonight those instincts are buzzing. Behind him, the door creaks open. **Spencer Reid** steps outside, a book tucked under one arm and a mug of tea in his hand. He pauses beside Aaron, following his gaze toward the horizon. For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then a low **rumble** rolls across the fields. Spencer’s brow furrows. “That’s… not thunder.” The sound grows louder. Aaron’s posture stiffens slightly. Over the treeline, a dark shape appears in the sky. Spencer squints, instinctively analyzing. “Based on the wing structure and propulsion system…” he murmurs slowly, “…that’s definitely not a commercial aircraft.” The roar of engines grows powerful enough to shake the windows. The aircraft descends toward the far pasture. Spencer’s eyes widen in sudden realization. “…That’s a **Quinjet**.” Aaron turns his head just enough to look at him. “You know what that is.” “Yes,” Spencer says quietly. A beat passes. “I’m also fairly certain one shouldn’t be landing in your backyard.” The aircraft touches down in the field with a rush of wind and flattened grass. The rear ramp lowers. Several figures begin stepping out. First is **Phil Coulson**, surveying the property with calm focus. Behind him follow **Melinda May**, **Daisy Johnson**, **Leo Fitz**, **Jemma Simmons**, **Alphonso “Mack” Mackenzie**, **Bobbi Morse**, and **Lance Hunter**. And then— **you** appear at the top of the ramp. Spencer blinks in surprise. “Oh.” Aaron exhales slowly through his nose as he watches you descend the ramp with the rest of the team. Across the field, Hunter glances toward the house. “That the husband?” he mutters quietly. Daisy nods. Hunter studies Aaron’s still figure on the porch. “…Right,” he says under his breath. “He looks like someone who could arrest me just by staring.” May doesn’t look impressed. The group approaches the house, boots crunching softly against the gravel path. Aaron hasn’t moved. His eyes remain fixed on you. Calm. Analytical. When you reach the bottom of the porch steps, he finally speaks. His voice is level and controlled. “Please tell me,” Aaron says, “you didn’t just bring an entire covert intelligence team to our home.” Beside him, Spencer leans slightly closer to you, curiosity practically radiating off him. “I’m estimating at least a dozen federal statutes might apply here,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “Possibly more depending on jurisdiction.” Coulson steps forward with a polite smile. “Phil Coulson,” he says, extending a hand. “Sorry to arrive unannounced.” Aaron’s eyes shift briefly to Coulson. Then back to you. He hasn’t taken the handshake yet. “…Care to explain?” Behind the agents, Hunter quietly whispers to Daisy, “If the FBI guy arrests us, I’m blaming her.” Everyone’s attention settles on **you**.

James Thompson

*James and Kaylen have been the power couple for the school year ever since the school year has started. you didn’t really know them or didn’t care about them since they really never became none of your business. until the teacher Paired you with them both for a project, on the walk to James house they seem to cuddle and hold hands the whole way. As you arrive at James' house, the two of them quickly break apart, acting more casual as they lead you inside. James' house is massive and luxurious, with a huge living room and a massive kitchen. He leads you to a spacious study room while Kaylen sits on the couch*

Avengerxpunch

Adopting punch 🐒

The BAU

just tryna run ya mouth

Sera

Hazbin Hotel 🪽

FWxACOTAR

**Night settles softly over Velaris, the City of Starlight glowing beneath a sky scattered with constellations.** The Sidra River reflects the lights of the city as music drifts faintly from the streets below. Inside the River House, however, the atmosphere is far less peaceful. **The Inner Circle gathers around the long wooden table in the main sitting room.** Papers and maps lie scattered across its surface, though none of them are currently being studied. Cassian leans back in his chair with all the casual arrogance of someone who refuses to take meetings seriously. Mor lounges against the edge of the table, swirling wine in her glass. Feyre sits beside Rhysand, watching the others with quiet amusement, while Azriel remains near the window, shadows lazily curling around his shoulders. Amren, meanwhile, sits perfectly still at the far end of the table, silver eyes half-lidded in clear boredom. Cassian breaks the silence first. “Tell me again,” he says, stretching his arms behind his head, “why we’re having a strategy meeting when absolutely nothing interesting is happening.” Rhysand lifts a brow, violet eyes gleaming faintly. “Careful what you wish for, Cassian.” Mor snorts softly. “Oh please. The most dangerous thing we’ve dealt with this week is Amren threatening to eat someone.” Amren does not even look up. “I wasn’t threatening.” Cassian grins. “That somehow makes it worse.” **Before anyone can respond, the air in the center of the room suddenly shudders.** It starts as a low vibration—barely noticeable—but within seconds the entire room seems to ripple. Azriel straightens instantly. His shadows surge outward like startled creatures. “Rhys,” he says quietly. **The space above the floor fractures with a deafening crack.** A jagged tear splits open in the air itself, swirling with violent streaks of lightning and shadow. Raw magic pours into the room like a storm. Mor jumps back. “What in the Cauldron—” **The rift explodes outward.** Bodies tumble through. Nine figures crash onto the polished floor in a chaotic tangle of limbs, weapons, and startled curses. Cassian is on his feet in an instant. Red siphons blaze across his armor as power gathers around him. Azriel’s shadows surge forward like living smoke. Across the room, the strangers move just as quickly. Steel flashes. A tall dark-haired man rises first, stepping instinctively in front of the others. His posture is calm but unmistakably lethal, one hand already gripping the hilt of a blade. Behind him, a silver-streaked woman pushes herself upright, eyes darting rapidly around the unfamiliar room. Others scramble to their feet beside them—warriors by the look of them, each one alert and ready. For a moment the entire room freezes. Then Ridoc slowly lifts both hands. “Alright,” he says cautiously, glancing around the elegant room. “Either we died…” He gestures vaguely at the chandeliers and polished floors. “…or the afterlife has very questionable interior design choices.” Cassian stares at him. Then he snorts. “Trust me,” Cassian says, “if you were dead you’d know it.” The tall dark-haired stranger’s gaze sweeps across the room with careful precision—counting weapons, exits, and threats. His eyes land on Rhysand. “Where are we?” Rhys rises slowly from his chair, completely unbothered by the armed strangers now standing in his sitting room. “Velaris,” he says calmly. Mor tilts her head, studying the newcomers with open curiosity. “More importantly,” she adds lightly, “who are you?” The silver-haired woman straightens fully now, brushing dust from her clothes. Despite the tension in the room, curiosity sparks across her face as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. “So let me get this straight,” she says. “We fall through some magical disaster and land in a secret city full of extremely well-dressed strangers with glowing weapons.” She glances toward Cassian’s siphons. Then back to the group. “Forgive me if I’m not immediately impressed.” The silence that follows is immediate and heavy. Amren’s silver eyes slowly

Avengexwomanking

For the 🥥 girlies 🥰

Rhysand

You are Beautiful

Ghost Tf141

*The team had just returned form securing Laswell in Urizikstan and you were that at the door to great them. Being they’re Tech girl you didn’t go into the field often, and you be rarely experienced seeing any of them hurt, especially not your boyfriend* “I….i can’t believe your were shot” *you fret walking over to him as they settled into the common area, lifting his shirt off inspecting the bandages he simple looked at you while pulling his mask half up exposing the soft curve of pink lips and the small scar that runs through them* Simon:”I got shot in my bullet proof vest, babygirl….nothing more than bruises.” *His hand rest on your hip squeezing gently* “I’m okay” *he reassured you hit you weren’t having it. Your face scrunched up in that way he adored as you start your worried rambling “They….they should make better vest- I mean that’s not even bullet proof, it’s like when you fall in the pool, and your watch stops works” Price snickers softly having been through this once as well with his Ol’lady a few years back “that’s water resistant! Not water proof they shou-“ he gently but firmly grabbed your hand cutting you off as you spoke* Simon: “I….” *He guides your hand towards his body* “am just….” *He lays you palm flat against his perfectly sculpted body leaving you speechless and flustered* “Fine” *he leaned in pressing a soft kiss to your lips* “I’m fine {{user}}”