#It’s followed me through like four fandoms now

[lavenderprose]

Joke’s on me because I have a plot doc with like ten different Gentlebeard plots and all my brain can do is try to formulate ways to jam Izzy in there. I’ve turned into a real Doctor Frankenstein over here.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stuck in the Moment

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.

A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.

A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.

You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"

"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.

You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.

You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."

You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."

"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.

You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."

"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.

The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."

"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.

You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."

The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"

"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."

"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."

You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"

The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.

You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"

The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."

"Great."

Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"

"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."

"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."

"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"

"I think we're in-between three and four."

"Oh good, you're not alone!"

"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Bucky."

"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"

He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."

"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."

"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."

"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"

You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.

"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"

He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."

"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"

Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."

______________________________

Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.

You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.

"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.

"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."

Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."

You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."

You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.

Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."

"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."

He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.

But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"

"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.

"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."

You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."

Bucky laughs, "Same here."

"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.

"Dad?!"

"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"

"We're okay!"

"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"

"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.

______________________

The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.

When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.

Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"

"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."

He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."

Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."

He sheepishly waves, "Hi."

"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.

You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."

He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."

"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."

"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."

You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."

"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.

"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."

"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"

"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"

You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"

_____________________

Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.

The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.

You’re answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:

JB: You’re looking cozy over there in your corner.

You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.

“May I join you?”

“If you’d like.”

He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, “Not gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.”

He shyly shrugs, “I guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?”

You giggle, “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Maybe I can practice with you?”

You give him a coy look, “I guess you can.”

[12daysofchristmas]

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART FIVE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Depression and mentions of self h*rm.

Notes: Heads-up, this chapter is filled with the Caeles Family trauma/lore lmao.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | NAVIGATION

Two angelic beings—currently in their human forms, sat across each other outside their garden, early morning sunlight streaming past the leaves of the large wisteria, they sat underneath the tree, a tea table in the middle with of course, a steaming and freshly brewed lavender tea and a platter of tea sandwiches to go with. The smell of roses and lavender is present around the garden as the sun rises through the horizon, calm and gentle cool breeze caressing their skins as they enjoy this peace and quiet. They are in the mortal realm at the moment, they didn't want heaven's ears to listen.

Xavier can be seen talking animatedly to his mother, his eyebrows furrowed as he did so, his hands moving around comically as he explained something to the older woman. [Y/n] sighs and nodded, bringing back the teacup into the table.

“So you're saying that Sera approved of this cleansing without the other's knowledge?” [y/n] asked with a small hum, bringing the teacup to her lips once more, pinky extended, she sipped her tea slowly before bringing the teacup back down to the table, making sure to use her pinky as a cushion to avoid making unnecessary noise.

She was awestruck, in disbelief by the information Xavier told her. Unacceptable. Sera's decision mocks the heavenly hierarchy, who is she to play God? Sure, God left her in charge as the higher being is off to who knows where but the reason God chose Sera is because the Seven Virtues were busy with work in the mortal realm. To think she made a major decision such as this without consulting the Seven virtues is unacceptable.

[Y/n] was bubbling in fury inside, as the angel of kindness, she can't imagine what the sinners are going through with the cleansing. Sera's decision is truly unacceptable. It felt like Sera didn't respect the status of the seven virtues and that is something she cannot allow. She worked so hard to be here, to where she is now. After Lucifer messed up and left an empty spot with the seven, she worked herself to the bone to fill that spot and is now one of the strongest and Sera couldn't even consult one single virtue to this decision. Blasphemy.

Xavier looked worried as he could tell that his mother is beyond pissed despite the gentle and calm look on her face, but he knows her. He could tell just by how tense her shoulders are, how deep the exhale she let out or the way her left eye twitched.

“I am glad you told me, I'll request a meeting with the others soon but I doubt it'll happen immediately as everyone is busy here on earth.” [y/n] sighs, picking up a small tuna sandwich and taking a bite of it. Xavier nodded as he took a sip of his own tea, nodding at her.

“I couldn't let Sera get away with this, after all.” He answered, looking away from his mother and to gaze at the garden. [Y/n] chuckles, her eyes darkened a bit as she follows where Xavier is looking—at the mini pond of the garden, two ducks and two swans swimming around. Surprisingly, a duck and swan were playing with each other. It brought a smile to [y/n]'s face, remembering the times she and Lucifer would play together in the skies, laughing and giggling. Times were easy and peaceful before. Oh how she wished she could turn back time.

Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he watches the two birds swimming around. A sigh escaping his lips before turning back to look at his mother once more.

“What do you want me to do for the time being?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, [y/n] smiled as she looked at her son, he grew up so fast. Proud of how far he came in life, though, she still felt a little guilt and sadness within her as she remembers how she neglected him during his toddler years, she was far too depressed that just one look at her son she would spiral into depression as Xavier bears so much resemblance to Lucifer. Her negligence to Xavier caused the boy to hate his looks so much to the point he tried to carve out his face with his weapon, thankfully Azrael was there to stop him and it served as a wake up call to her and realized how her actions affected Xavier so much. It took awhile and lots of therapy for her to finally face her son without having a mental breakdown and she apologized to the boy over and over again for the horrible things she had done and it took some serious therapy for Xavier too to accept his face—though, he hasn't fully accepted it but it isn't as worse as before.

[Y/n] sighs softly, shaking away the depressing memories. She's healing now and finally getting better, she doesn't need to look back at the negative memories. She smiled at Xavier, a look of adoration in her eyes, proud of her son for all the things he did for her. Her pride and joy.

Placing her hands on her lap, she gave him a small nod, “Just continue doing your duties, I'll take care of the rest, hmm?” she suggested with a smile and Xavier nodded, “Alright, I'll leave you to deal with it mother.” he says and [y/n] hummed in agreement.

[Y/n] took out her phone, typing something. Her fingers danced across the screen as she pressed the letters.

You: @everyone, when will you guys be available for a meeting? Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Uriel

Michael: I won't be available for a couple days, I am unsure about the others. Why? Did something happen? Seen by [Y/n], Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel

Azrael: Did someone mess up? lmao Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Camuel: It's rare for you to actually summon us for once @Y/n Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel, Jophiel, [Y/n]

You: I am requesting for a meeting as a certain Seraphim left in charge is currently playing God. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Gabriel: What the fuck? Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Azrael: Hey, watch your fucking language ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Uriel: Well... That is certainly news.. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: Indeed. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Uriel, Azrael

Michael: We'll have a meeting in a week, all of us are far too busy at the moment. Thank you for telling us, [n/n]. Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Michael: Is the schedule fine with you guys? @everyone Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: The schedule is fine, I guess I'll meet you guys soon. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Azrael and everyone heart reacted to his message

[Y/n] turns off her phone and slips it back to her pocket, Xavier looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “So...?”

[Y/n] chuckles a bit, “I already told them and we'll have a meeting in a week or so. We'll handle it, don't worry.” she says, sipping her tea. “I am sure Michael will do something about it.”

“That meeting certainly didn't go well for me.” [y/n] muttered in annoyance as she left the office of the Seven. They just finished holding the meeting and Michael thought it was a good idea to make her take care of it, Azrael offered to help her but he has his own plate of responsibilities to finish, he is the angel of death after all. “Why did I have to lose the rock-paper-scissors?!” she whined to herself, pouting slightly.

She looked down upon her hands to see it shaking and pale, she's scared of going down there, she's afraid of what'll happen to her if she ever sees Lucifer again.

Contrary to popular beliefs, [y/n] doesn't consider Lucifer her ex-husband, no divorce ever happened and even after all the pain she went through, she remained loyal and always acted upon her vows to him even if he wasn't here in heaven with her.

Her eyes landed on the gold metal band around her ring finger, the very ring that Lucifer slipped into her hand when they got married. She didn't have the power or the courage to remove it.

She won't remove it unless Lucifer actually tells her to, unless Lucifer says it to her face that he no longer loves her or needs her.

She'll let him go willingly once he tells her all those things. But for now, she'll hold on. No matter how bruised and wounded her hands are, she'll hold on. She hopes that they will be a complete family one day, heck, even Charlotte can join. She'll treat the girl like her own daughter. She just wants her family complete, is that too much to ask for?

She dreams to give her son the father he deserves, Xavier didn't say it but as his mother she can tell how envious the boy is when he looks at other families. The longing look in his eyes, he's jealous that Charlie had the father—the very same father that left him for another family.

Her steps faltered as she finally arrived at her own office, opening the door and quickly got inside and locking it. Her back pressed against the door, her body getting heavier as she slid down to the floor.

Looking up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her office, the chandelier with apple and duck crystals hanging from it—she commissioned it in memory of Lucifer.

“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned”

She softly sang, standing up from the floor, her eyes softening as she gazed outside the window of her office.

“Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land

To follow what's written”

She sang softly, her feet gracefully bringing her across the room, reaching to her desk. Her hand opened the cabinet of her desk, grabbing a small black box. Opening it to see a gold necklace with a pink crystal heart pendant. Sighing before closing the box once more and returning it back to the drawer.

“But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own”

She says softly, her eyes downcast as her voice became significantly lower. [Y/n] remembers Lucifer giving her the necklace for their first anniversary.

“Hand in my hand

And we promised to never let go”

A tear streamed down her cheek, remembering the promises they've made for each other. The room was tinted pink from the rays of the setting sun, shadows casting into her dull office.

“We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

The memories of them flying together in the skies, laughing and joking with each other.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

Lucifer catching her when her wings gave out.

“But it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you”

Despite fearing for her life, she trusted him to catch her always when she falls.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her steps light as a feather, graceful as she dances as if Lucifer is there with her. Slow dancing in her office like he's with her.

“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between

Desert and ocean”

They promised to never let go of each other regardless of what comes in-between them.

“You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

Always in motion”

She listened to all of his hopes and dreams of the future, future of the world and his future with her.

“So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose”

She knew what she was getting into when she dated him, he was the most beautiful angel of all of creation. Many wanted him but she trusted him to only want her.

“Hand in my hand

And you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

With a flex of her wrists, golden dusts of her power came of her hands, forming a faux Lucifer. She still remembers what he looked like. The Lucifer made of golden dust smiled at her, holding her body close as they waltzed across the room.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”

[Y/n] was crying softly, Lucifer wipes away her tears with his thumb, leaving specks of golden dust in her cheeks. Lucifer twirls her and dips her, effortlessly catching her. He pulls her up to allow her to stand.

With a sad smile, [y/n] waves her hand and the Lucifer made of golden dust gently disappears like a dust in the wind. [Y/n] extending her hand, as if to stop the love of her life from disappearing once more. Even if it was just something she conjured up with her powers.

“Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you.”

[Y/n] grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing the fabric onto her eyes. No matter how much she tries to dry her eyes, tears never seem to stop falling.

“After all these years, I am still a mess without you.” she whispers, eyes gazing outside the window of her office, the sunlight shining down on her like the universe is listening to her anguish. She grips the fabric of her dress, on where her heart is beating and aching.

“What happened to death do us apart? Why did you leave me Lucifer? WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” She asked, screaming in anguish and as always, no answer to her questions.

“I need you, Lucifer... I still do...” she whispers, defeated as she dragged her emotionally heavy body to her office chair, slumping down with a loud and choked out sob.

With shaky breaths and trembling hands. She calms herself down, calming herself down. She still has work to do.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[angelltheninth]

The status said "requests open" & TWST is currently the hyperfixation ravaging my autistic brain, so I propose the following!!

(If this is too many characters tho; I mainly just want Leona, Malleus, Azul & Jamil.)

The Overblot boys accidentally blurting out will you marry me? to the Reader who is doing something completely benign but it warms his heart as he realizes he's head over heels.

You're just so kind & warm, but not that sickeningly sweet naivete that makes them scowl. No, you're aware of the bad in the world— but in spite of it, you show him that kindness. Sure, he's lost his temper or just been rude to you out of frustration, but you don't take it lying down nor do you shut him out. You're understanding without being condescending. You make him feel wanted & seen & sincerely appreciated, even with all his flaws and bad habits.

(Bonus: he backtracks out of embarassment, but Reader gently teases him about that mushy response, subtly implying they're open if he manages to get the nerve to go for it.)

Cute as hell oh my god!

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Jamil Viper, Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, accidental marriage proposal, kiss, being flustered, date night, cuddles

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I wouldn't hesitate to marry them. All four of them.

Leona was half asleep when he asked you to marry him, you would have missed it entirely if you weren't cuddling up against his chest when it happened. He tried to convince you this was just a dream, he would never be tied down and you can't make him. This is all very redundant given that he was the one who proposed to you, so in actuality he wants to be called yours doesn't he? He does, he can't deny it now, and before he tries to backtrack, your answer is a yes.

Azul asked that on a contract as a joke asking you if you would sign a contract like that. The last thing he expected was for you to sign it in a heartbeat and ask him where's he's putting his name. For a man who makes as many deals and contracts as he does he is rarely rendered speechless and stunned by someone else, he stared at the paper, blinking rapidly. He couldn't believe you were so ready to marry him, you must love him more than you let on.

Jamil always teases you with fake marriage proposals so you begin saying no every time just to see what he'd do next. Of course he takes this as a challenge to try to get you to say yes, which becomes sort of a contest between the two of you, to see who will fold first. To get an edge up on you when he asks you he kisses you to stop you from saying no, little did he know that you were about to say yes. When you tell him that he asks you again, excited, but you say no again.

Malleus blurted it out while you were running your hands through his hair and massaging the base of his horns. It felt so good, he was so relaxed and completely lovestruck by you so the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. Immediately he starts apologizing, panicking, he doesn't know what he was thinking or if he was even thinking. His cheeks grew a bright pink, his pointy ears too but instead of laughing you kissed him, you would love to be his bride.

[nyoomerr]

Normally, the community of Proud Immortal Demon Way can hardly be called as such. To call PIDW readers a ‘fandom’ would be akin to calling everyone who visited the same porn site a family. PeerlessCucumber is a loud exception, but in the end he’s still only an exception - by and large, people reading PIDW know exactly what they’re there for, and it certainly isn’t for any sense of shared enjoyment or community.

The community of people following PeerlessCucumber himself, however, is a whole different story.

PeerlessCucumber is the asshole single handedly responsible for at least seven different copypastas, the rich bastard that will pay an artist’s rent for a single picture of Luo Binghe if only the artist can tolerate his demands for constant revisions, the dictionary definition of an anti-fan.

He is also blissfully unaware of the absolute glee in which people take in riling him up. And in the age of the modern internet, nothing brings a group of strangers together like the opportunity to poke fun of a guy like that.

“How do I look?” HualingsWife whispers to her companions. They take a moment to scrutinize her, gaze lingering around her chest.

“I don’t know,” SwordsOfCultivators says, “I think the guy ahead of you let his robes drape open further.”

HualingsWife rolls her eyes. “If I let my robes drape open that far, I’d be disqualified - you know the rules are different for men.”

“It’s not like you’re looking to win, though,” XuanyuMeat says. “And the open chest is clearly effective.”

The three of them pause, turning to look at the stage from their spot in the wings. The competitor that came before HualingsWife is running through a series of poses that are slowly but surely allowing his robes to slip ever wider. 

Two of the judges are watching with thinly veiled amusement - after several years of this tradition, they’ve gotten used to the chaos that PeerlessCucumber’s fans bring to these cosplay competitions. 

The third judge is PeerlessCucumber himself, and he looks like he might be experiencing a serious health condition. A serious mental health condition, to be clear.

“- robes of inferior make! Binghe’s exposure is always purposeful, and artful, and it wouldn’t be because he was wearing robes that didn’t fit him! If you don’t care about dressing true to his character -!”

“Hm,” SwordsOfCultivators hums. “Is it just me, or is Peerless not being as harsh as he usually is? Do you think he’s finally losing some of his obsession with Luo Binghe?”

“He better not!” HualingsWife cries. “I’ve put way too much time and money into working on a cosplay for that awful porn book for him to lose interest right when I get my chance to join the torturing-Peerless-fun!”

“No, no,” XuanyuMeat says, shaking their head. “You heard his rants for the Luo Binghe cosplayers one through four - he was especially cruel to them! Look at his face now, that isn’t the face of someone losing interest!”

They turn back to the stage. Luo Binghe cosplayer number five - likely DickBiggerThanBinghe, if HualingsWife were to guess based on her limited interactions with him in the PeerlessWatchers discord chat - looks unbearably smug. His robes have fallen completely off his shoulders by now.

PeerlessCucumber, on the other hand, looks so red HualingsWife wouldn’t be surprised if she started seeing steam pouring out of his ears.

“Ah,” she says, understanding. “You think he’s recently finally realized his obsession with Luo Binghe isn’t that of a straight man’s?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to get this flustered over a man’s exposed chest and still think it was caused purely by the outrage of seeing one of our ‘poorly done’ cosplays,” XuanyuMeat says wryly. They send HaulingsWife a pointed side eye. “So…”

“Oh yeah, I’m on it,” HualingsWife says, already loosening her robes further. “Just make sure to have the cameras ready to get the direct comparison of his reaction to a woman’s nip-slip versus the absolute conniption he’s going through now.”

“Please, he probably won’t even see it - he’ll probably get all awkward and look away like he does with any female cosplayer dressed in anything but a full body suit.”

“I think he’ll peek through his fingers anyway,” SwordsOfCultivators says gleefully. “He wouldn’t dare miss the chance to oggle another Luo Binghe cosplayer.”

On stage, DickBiggerThanBinghe finally waltzes off, having received his scoring from all three judges and a score from the back of the room where the group of PeerlessWatchers are sitting. 

After all, none of them are really here for the actual cosplay competition. They only care about one thing: whoever can get the highest scoring Peerless rant about their cosplay will pay for dinner for everyone that night. 

“Ohh, seven out of ten!” HualingsWife says, as the group PeerlessWatchers wave their scorecard around with glee. “The last time someone got scored that highly was when TofuBuns dared to cosplay as a half-dead Luo Binghe covered in wounds!”

“TofuBuns still has their display name set to ‘faithless mongrel undeserving of witnessing Binghes success’ in the discord server,” SwordsOfCultivators sighs. “I can only hope to one day trigger a Peerless rant so iconic.”

On stage, one of the judges glances down at the score sheet, sees that another Luo Binghe cosplayer is scheduled to come out next, and stifles a laugh before gesturing for HualingsWife to come on.

“No way I’m getting something that iconic my first try,” HualingsWife says, “but if I can get Peerless to make that hilarious choking noise he made the last time he saw a female-presenting Luo Binghe, I’ll count it as a win.”

[death---dealer]

Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌

My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.

Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **

READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 

“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 

‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 

‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’

‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 

Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.

Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 

‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 

‘Why… you bothered?’

‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 

Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 

‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 

A lot. 

Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 

“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”

Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.

Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 

“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 

“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 

Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”

Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 

Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?

Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!

Wait.

You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.

“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 

“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.

“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 

“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 

“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 

“Echo then wake up.”

You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 

It gestured at you. 

You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.

“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.

“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.

Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.

A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?

Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.

Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.

‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.

“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”

“Think.”

Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ Tag List: @ohwaitimthewriter @saturnnie-03 @hera-annwn @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @callsignwindow @moonchild1433 @kaenalsha @whamsworld @yummyfant @unsteady-bitch @twinspineout

( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Bound by love that defies centuries, Elijah Mikaelson will do whatever it takes to resurrect his lost wife. Even if it means forsaking everything he believes in. Once the north star guiding his family, his shattered heart now leads him down a darker path, transforming him into a version beyond redemption. A damned soul, drawing his family into an abyss they may never escape.

♡♡ Hello my lovely followers! This will be a six part series inspired by @njeancastro316 post about red door Elijah (Girl, I've been writing this non-stop since you tagged me! thank you for the inspo). I really put my whole heart into this one, {I even made a playlist to capture the vibes} exploring the depths of Elijah's character and his struggle between love and darkness. Enjoy! && expect pain... ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: angst, angst and more angst, grief, heartbreak, intense violence, red door Elijah, emotional turmoil, so much Mikaelson family drama {the whole gang is here && some faves from Mystic Falls will show up later}, No smut in this part, but prepare for plenty of darkness... oh! && croissants...

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore

Prologue ~ Europe 13th Century

"This way!" A boy laughed as he darted beneath a low-hanging branch. Behind him, a small girl hurried along, lifting her skirt to keep up, her breath catching in short gasps.

"Slow down! Wait for me!" she called, tripping over roots and brambles in her haste. "I can't run as fast as you!"

The boy glanced back, grinning. "Then hurry, will you."

"We ought to be home by now." She replied, frowning.

"We are almost there," he replied, leaping over a fallen branch before turning to face her, eyes gleaming. "We can get home quicker through the woods."

"I don’t like it," she murmured, clutching her skirt tighter. Shadows crept over the path as the sun sank lower, casting an orange glow through the dense branches. "The hour grows late."

The boy shook his head, catching her hand with a reassuring squeeze. "We’ll be fine. It’s only a short way."

Reluctantly, she nodded, holding onto him. "If anything ill should happen, I’ll tell Mother."

He only laughed, tugging her down the narrow path. "If something ill happens, you may not get the chance!"

Their laughter echoed in the stillness as they raced ahead. The trees grew taller, their branches clawing toward the darkening sky, while thick underbrush crowded the trail, rustling with each step. Yet the children, lost in their game, scarcely noticed, laughing and squealing as they chased one another.

Then, a sound, a subtle, almost a whisper, seeped through the quiet. The girl stopped, clutching the boy’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

“What is it?”

“Shh,” she hissed, pulling him closer, her wide eyes searching the shadows. "Listen."

They stood in silence, the air heavy and still, broken only by their own quickening breaths.

“It’s nothing. Perhaps a deer-”

“No, it’s more than that,” she whispered. Somewhere ahead, faint and distant, came the flicker of firelight. And with it, laughter. Wild and strange.

“What is that?” the boy asked, his voice barely a breath.

“Quiet,” she said, creeping forward, pulling him toward the light.

They peered out from behind a tree, breath catching at the sight before them. A great fire blazed, roaring into the sky as shadows twisted around it. Two figures danced wildly around the flames, naked, their skin smeared with red and ash. Their laughter, sharp and otherworldly, pierced the night air.

The girl’s scream barely escaped her lips before the boy’s hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her back. They stumbled, clutching one another, then turned and fled, racing down the trail as fast as their little legs would carry them, branches clawing at their clothes.

By the time they burst into the village, their faces were pale, their breaths ragged. Villagers gathered around as the children stumbled forward, pointing frantically toward the woods.

“Demons!” the girl gasped, clutching at the skirts of the nearest woman. “They’re out there! In the forest!”

There was a hushed sadness over the compound. The lights seemed to have dimmed, and the atmosphere hung heavy, cold and suffocating. It had been that way since the night Elijah found your lifeless body on the cold pavement. The night that changed everything.

Rebekah didn’t like it here anymore. Her home felt more like a tomb than a residence. It was too quiet, too full of memories and emotions too painful to confront. Her big brother was suffering, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

She found Klaus sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at a chessboard. The pieces were scattered, mid-game, but his focus seemed to drift in and out. Normally, this contemplative silence from him made her nervous, but today she couldn’t muster the energy to care. The weight of everything was too much.

“Any news?” Rebekah asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Klaus didn’t move, didn’t speak at first. He shifted a chess piece absentmindedly and shrugged.

The sound of Marcel’s footsteps echoed through the stillness of the courtyard. She felt one of his warm hands rest gently on the small of her back, and she leaned into him, drawing comfort from his presence.

“I’ve been asking around. Only lead I have is that he’s somewhere in Europe,” Marcel said, his voice sounding hollow.

“Well, where in Europe?” Klaus finally spoke, his gaze never leaving the board.

“Don’t know. Haven’t pinpointed his exact location yet,” Marcel sighed. “But he’s been killing low-level Strix members, leaving bodies in his wake.”

Klaus scoffed softly, moving another piece on the board. “Keep looking,”

“You almost sound like you care,” Rebekah hissed, glaring at him.

“Don’t start with me, little sister,” Klaus warned, his voice low and sharp.

“Elijah has always been there for us,” she snapped, “And when he needs our help, where are you? Sitting here, playing chess with yourself.”

Klaus’s fist slammed down on the chessboard, sending the pieces flying across the table. He stood abruptly, stalking toward her, his eyes blazing. But Rebekah didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. She held his glare with her own, unrelenting.

“What do you want me to do?” Klaus roared, his voice cracking as his anger gave way to the grief simmering beneath. “Tell me, Rebekah. How do I fix this?”

“I want you to find him!” she screamed, tears stinging her eyes. “He’s our brother, Nik!”

Klaus’s shoulders slumped. His rage deflated, leaving him hollow. “I don’t know how to fix this, little sister,” he admitted quietly.

Marcel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Maybe we should give him some time. Let him mourn her.”

“He’s not mourning, Marcel,” Klaus growled, clenching his jaw. “He’s murdering. He hasn’t even accepted that she’s dead.”

Rebekah and Marcel exchanged worried glances.

“We can’t just let him destroy himself,” Rebekah argued, her voice breaking. “Wherever he is, whoever crosses his path... they’re doomed. He’s out of control.”

“He’s changed,” Marcel muttered, rubbing his temple. “I’ve never seen him like this. So violent, so volatile.”

“That’s why I’m worried, Nik,” Rebekah said, her tone deadly serious. “If he’s not stopped, the Elijah we know will be gone. He will become a monster.”

Klaus looked down at the shattered chess pieces scattered across the table. “We are monsters, Rebekah,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“No, Nik,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not like this.”

Klaus remained silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Suppose someone took Marcellus from you. What would you do?”

“I would raze this earth and dance on the ashes,” she answered without hesitation, the fire of her love and loyalty burning bright in her eyes.

“That’s what he’s doing,” Klaus said darkly.

“Yes,” Rebekah agreed, “but Elijah would come for me. He would find me, and help me, keep me from losing myself. Now he’s the one who needs help.”

“How do we stop him?” Marcel asked, though his voice was laden with doubt.

Klaus shook his head slowly. “We don’t.”

“Nik…” Rebekah started, her voice pleading.

“We contain the damage,” Klaus cut her off, the steely resolve returning to his voice. “I’ll go to Europe. I’ll bring him back.”

Rebekah exhaled, relief flooding through her, and she pulled Klaus into a tight hug. She didn’t say anything, just held him as though her arms alone could keep the family from falling apart. He hugged her back, and for a moment, the cracks in their family seemed to close.

Marcel stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

When she finally pulled away, Rebekah gave her brother a sad smile. “Be careful.”

Klaus nodded. “I will.”

His eyes flicked to Marcel, and the two men exchanged a knowing look. They both understood how dangerous this was. That if Elijah couldn’t be saved, they might lose him forever.

Or worse... they might have to put him down.

Two members of the Strix walked side by side, their steps echoing off the marble floors. One glanced around nervously, eyeing the high-tech security measures surrounding them, cameras in every corner, reinforced steel doors, layers of magical barriers.

"Is this really necessary? I can't stand being cooped up here. What's the point?" the taller vampire complained, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

"Protocol," the other replied, his tone bored. "You know how paranoid Tristan can be. But I’m telling you, no one's getting in here. Not even him."

"I don’t get it. We had nothing to do with her death. Why are we hiding?"

"He doesn’t know that." The second vampire shook his head, his eyes flicking toward a monitor displaying multiple feeds from around the compound. “And he doesn’t seem to care about guilt or innocence anymore.”

They stopped at a reinforced door, pressing their palms to the scanners. As the heavy doors slid open, the two shared a final glance, the reality sinking in that even their supposed impenetrable defenses might not be enough.

They stepped into the dim room, illuminated only by the flickering light of the chandelier hanging above a long oak table. Strix members filled the chairs, their faces tense and uneasy. They had gathered in secret, far from prying eyes. Whispers of fear and uncertainty drifted across the room, but no one dared to speak above a murmur. The air was heavy with dread, and no one felt safe.

At the head of the table, Aya stood, her sharp gaze cutting through the room like a blade. She had always been the picture of composure, a pillar of strength, but now, her patience was thinning, her power waning, cracks in her armor where fear leaked through. Beside her, Tristan de Martel leaned casually in his chair, an amused smile playing on his lips, as if this was all a game to him. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the faces of his fellow Strix members, reveling in their discomfort.

“We all know why we’re here,” Aya began, her voice cold and steady, but there was an underlying tension to it, like a string about to snap. “Our ranks are thinning, and the reason is no secret.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Heads turned, glances were exchanged. They knew. Everyone knew.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” Tristan added, his voice smooth and casual, as if he were discussing the weather. His eyes gleamed with a cruel delight. “The noble brother has gone rogue. It seems the death of his beloved has… unraveled him.”

"That's an interesting way of putting it," one Strix member commented, his voice dripping with disdain. "He ripped apart fifty of my men, left a trail of bodies and witnesses, it took me days to cover it all up,"

"And how many vampires has he killed since then? Hundreds? Thousands?" another voice chimed in, sounding bitter.

"You're just scared," another vampire challenged, his tone mocking.

"Of course, we're scared. Do you know what he's capable of?" the first vampire hissed, baring his teeth.

"Silence," Aya ordered, her tone icy. The room fell quiet, the air crackling with tension. "We cannot defeat him, nor can we sit by and wait for him to tear us apart. He has lost his humanity, and it's clear that we must take action."

"We have already taken action and all it does is piss him off," the Strix member grumbled, "I have no interest in fighting a losing battle."

"You're a coward," Aya snarled, her eyes flashing with anger.

"What would you have us do?" another vampire spoke up, their voice strained, "We're no match for him."

"Perhaps we should consider a bargain," Tristan suggested, a sly smirk creeping across his lips. "Find the killer, deliver them to him, and save ourselves the trouble of being murdered."

The members murmured amongst themselves, some seeming open to the idea, while others still appeared wary.

"I cannot fathom why someone would be so foolish. Surely the person who did this knows the repercussions," a member said, a hint of fear in their voice.

Tristan's smile widened. "They were foolish indeed, and now they are the most hunted man, or woman, in the world,"

Aya's face was impassive, her mind racing. She had no doubt that Elijah would tear down the world to find his killer, and if the Strix didn't deliver them, he would do the same to their ranks. Tristan's indifference infuriated her. While he sat there with a smile, the Strix were suffering the consequences of his poor leadership.

A soft little cough pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see a small girl standing at the other end of the table. She looked no older than twelve, with delicate features and wide, doe-like eyes. She looked lost, and this wasn't a place you could just wander into.

Other members noticed her presence and got to their feet, the scraping of chairs echoing off the walls. Aya narrowed her eyes, taking in the girl's appearance.

"Who are you?" Aya asked, her voice sharp.

The girl was clearly terrified, her hands shaking, and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Aya found it strange. She didn't sense the power of a witch coming off her, she was just a girl, and a very young one at that.

"I-I'm sorry," the girl stammered, her voice barely a whisper, "I don't know why I'm here. I just woke up here and now, I-I'm scared,"

"How did you get in here?" Aya questioned, her voice low and menacing.

"A nice man told me to come here," the girl mumbled, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the tense, hostile atmosphere. "He wanted me to talk to you."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "And why would he want that?"

The girl shrugged, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know, please, I just want to go home,"

"What did he look like?" Aya pressed, her voice growing louder.

"He had dark hair, and brown eyes," the girl sniffled, trying to hold back her sobs.

Tristan's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The room was suddenly silent, the tension now unbearable. Aya stared at the girl, her face an unreadable mask, but inside, her mind was racing.

"What did he want you to say?" Aya asked, her voice quiet, dangerous.

The girl’s breath hitched, her words barely audible. "That... he will give all of you a slow death."

The temperature in the room plummeted, and a cold shiver ran down Aya’s spine. She struggled to hide her unease, but the implication was clear: Elijah had infiltrated their sanctuary.

"A-and that... if I can get in..." The girl gulped, her small voice quaking, "He can too."

The room fell into a suffocating silence as the weight of her words settled on the group. Tristan shot up from his chair, his face dark with fury.

“Lockdown procedures. Now.” Tristan barked, his voice commanding and harsh.

"What about the girl?" Aya asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the trembling child. Her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

"Kill her," Tristan spat, his voice cold and merciless. "She’s served her purpose."

The room erupted into chaos. Sirens blared as the compound went into immediate lockdown. The lights flickered, dimming to an eerie glow. The Strix moved quickly, vanishing into the shadows, their bodies blurring as they scattered, heading for safe rooms or exit points.

Aya hesitated for a moment, her gaze still fixed on the girl. She started toward her, but a voice in her head warned her against it. With one last glance, she turned and hurried toward the safe room.

The little girl stood trembling in the darkness, tears streaming down her face. The once-imposing vampires had fled, leaving her all alone in the icy silence.

"It's okay, sweetheart," a voice purred from the shadows, smooth and calming. The girl gasped, her heart racing as she felt a hand on her shoulder, firm yet oddly comforting.

She turned to see a tall man standing behind her, his dark hair framing his sharp features, his kind eyes watching her closely. "Run along now," he said softly, giving her a gentle push toward the door.

The girl nodded quickly, wiping her tears before scampering away, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss.

Elijah watched her go, his kind smile fading as the room returned to darkness. His eyes glinted coldly, the warmth in them vanishing like smoke. Slowly, the veins beneath his eyes darkened, spreading like cracks in the surface of his calm exterior.

He was already inside.

As the sirens echoed, he vanished into the shadows once more, his presence like a gathering storm. And what followed this storm, was pure, unrelenting destruction.

The soft drone of a news broadcast drifted through an abandoned loft, dust floating through the air. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, the room dark and shadowy, save for the light of a flickering TV. The anchor woman's face was somber, her voice solemn.

“Une tragédie a frappé Paris la nuit dernière... un incendie dévastateur a détruit un immeuble historique, laissant peu de traces de ce qui s’y trouvait. Les autorités locales confirment que l’origine du feu demeure inconnue, mais la rapidité à laquelle il s’est propagé soulève des questions.”

Subtitles scrolled across the bottom of the screen in English: "A tragic accident struck Paris last night... a devastating fire destroyed a historic building, leaving few traces of what was inside. Local authorities confirm that the cause of the fire is unknown, but the speed at which it spread raises questions."

The camera cut to images of the smoldering wreckage. Blackened stone, twisted metal, and fire trucks still spraying water over what little remained.

Elijah wasn't paying attention to the TV anymore; he had his head in his hands, hunched over in a chair, his body wracked with sobs. Bodies were strewn about the room, blood spattered on the walls and floors. A macabre painting of violence and rage. The sight of the lifeless forms weighed heavily on him, a chilling reminder of his own actions.

He didn't know how long he had been there, but it felt like an eternity. Each day blended into the next, the hours stretching into a meaningless void. Days would go by where he felt utterly detached, lost in a sea of grief and loss, and then the anger would return, awakening him to a new trail of bodies. There were so many, too many, and yet it wasn't enough.

“Les témoins affirment avoir vu des ombres avant que l’incendie n’éclate, mais aucune preuve tangible n’a été trouvée. Des sources proches de l’enquête évoquent une possible attaque ciblée, bien que les détails restent flous.”

"Witnesses reported seeing shadows before the fire broke out, but no physical evidence has been found. Sources close to the investigation say there may have been a targeted attack, though details remain unclear."

"You used a child? My love, what has become of you?"

Elijah didn't flinch, didn't react as he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, your lips pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your voice was soft, tinged with sadness and disappointment. He hated himself for it.

"She's fine," Elijah said, his voice strained, barely able to meet your gaze.

"You don't know that," you sighed, your hands moving to his chest, trying to soothe him. "And you know this isn't the way,"

"There is no other way," he replied, his voice cracking, desperation lacing his words.

"You used an innocent child, one not much older than Hope," you said, a hint of anger breaking through your sadness.

Elijah stiffened. He knew you were right. It didn't make what he did any better, and he felt his self-loathing increase tenfold.

"They killed you; I did what I had to," Elijah defended, but the words felt hollow, a pitiful excuse.

"This isn't the way," you repeated, your voice pleading, "and you don't know who did it, or why. This is all just a guess, a hunch."

He let out another quiet sob, then grabbed his glass of blood and threw it against the wall, the shards falling like crimson rain. He stared at the stain on the wall, watching the liquid trickle down, and he couldn't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

"You have to stop," you whispered, appearing in front of him, your hand cupping his cheek, trying to pull him away from the dark, destructive spiral he was on.

"I can't," he said, his voice breaking, unable to look at you, this ghost haunting him.

"Please," you begged, your hand moving to his neck, gently stroking his skin, trying to comfort him. "I know this pain. It's agony, it's consuming, but I promise you, it will fade."

He pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close, trying to breathe in your scent, to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. You were an echo, a phantom he couldn't grasp.

"You can't bring me back. You know that," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a soft, sad reminder.

He didn't respond, just held you, his fingers digging into your skin, his eyes closed tightly, fighting back tears. He had spent so many nights like this, crying himself to sleep, waking up to nothing, just an empty bed, a cold room, and a hollow, broken heart.

He opened his eyes and let out a gasp as he realized he was clinging to one of the dead bodies on the floor, the vampire's skin gray and decaying, the body long since gone cold.

Elijah released the body and staggered to his feet, his head swimming with despair and self-loathing. His pain and sorrow gave way to anger and frustration, fueling the urge to hurt, to destroy anything and anyone.

"Par ailleurs, une jeune fille a disparu après ne pas être rentrée chez elle. La jeune fille, qui aurait douze ans, a été vue pour la dernière fois dans la zone de l'incendie,"

"In other news, a young girl has gone missing after failing to return home. The girl, who is reported to be twelve years old, was last seen in the area of the fire..."

Elijah snapped, grabbing the TV and throwing it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. His rage burned bright, a hot, white flame. His heart raced, his breathing ragged, his body shaking with fury.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to kill, but more than anything, he wanted you. He wanted to hold you, to feel your warmth, to hear your voice. He couldn't take it anymore; he was falling apart.

Klaus was never a big croissant fan; he preferred something heartier for breakfast. But here, in France, the flaky pastry seemed to taste infinitely better. Maybe it was the morning sunlight filtering through the café windows or the distant sounds of bustling streets.

He took a sip of his espresso, his eyes scanning the crowded café, absorbing the lively atmosphere. Freya sat across from him, her brow furrowed as she read a spell book, her expression thoughtful.

"Anything in there about wrangling wayward siblings?" Klaus teased, a wry grin playing on his lips.

Freya glanced up, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "That's more your area of expertise."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter. "Fair enough."

Freya’s expression softened, a small smile breaking through. "It will be okay. We'll find him."

Klaus nodded, biting into his croissant, the flakes melting in his mouth. The clatter of dishes and murmurs of conversation surrounded them, along with the distant strains of a busker playing a violin.

"Then what? I’ve never known what to say to him," Klaus said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He’s always the one with the wise words, not me."

"Honesty is all we have," Freya replied, her tone gentle. "We tell him we miss him, that he’s our brother, and we want him home."

"And that we need to have a funeral, or at least a memorial. Hope is very confused about what happened to her aunt," Klaus added, his gaze drifting to the people walking by the window.

"We'll do it together, as a family," Freya reassured, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. Her touch was gentle, a lifeline in the turmoil. "He needs to know we’re here for him."

"And if he doesn’t want to come back? What then?" Klaus asked, his voice heavy with concern.

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it." Freya pointed at the spell book, her expression brightening. "I’m looking into ways to calm his mind. Perhaps if he can control his rage, he can start to heal."

"I don’t wish to subdue him," Klaus said, frowning. "He deserves the right to his pain, to grieve in his own way."

Freya’s eyes widened, surprised by his response. It wouldn’t be the first time Klaus had tried to force Elijah or the rest of their family into doing things his way. Yet, despite his brashness, she knew Klaus was a man of deep, powerful emotions, capable of empathy.

"What?" Klaus asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You’ve grown," Freya smiled. "It’s good to see."

"Don’t get used to it," Klaus quipped, taking another bite of his croissant and washing it down with a sip of his espresso. "I wish for us to go back to normal, where I’m the problem."

"You’ll never not be a problem, Nik," Freya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Rude," he scowled.

"But true," she sighed, returning to her book with a smile.

Klaus took another sip of his espresso, his gaze drifting to the TV hanging in the corner. A news broadcast caught his attention, the images of a fire flickering on the screen. He leaned forward, his expression sharpening as he listened intently.

"De nouvelles informations proviennent de l'enquête sur l'incendie du centre-ville de Paris. La police a désormais identifié plus de deux cents corps retrouvés sur les lieux, sans aucune indication pour l'instant du nombre de personnes portées disparues. Il semblerait que les victimes étaient toutes membres de une société privée de conservation d'œuvres d'art, possédant des participations dans plusieurs pays. Alors que les autorités enquêtent toujours sur la cause de l'incendie, il a été suggéré que l'incendie avait été allumé délibérément.”

"There is new information coming in from the investigation into the fire in downtown Paris. Police have now identified more than two hundred bodies recovered from the scene, with no indication yet of how many are still missing. It's believed the victims were all members of a private art curation company, with holdings in several countries. While authorities are still investigating the cause of the blaze, it's being suggested the fire was set deliberately."

Klaus’s stomach dropped, a familiar dread creeping in. The timing was too convenient, and this 'art curation company' sounded like a cover for a secret society. He gestured to the screen, espresso still in hand, splashing a few drops onto the table. "Looks like a place for us to visit, wouldn’t you say?"

Freya looked up, her brow furrowing. "Do you think Elijah has anything to do with it?"

"If this organization is the Strix -sorry, was the Strix- then absolutely," Klaus replied, a grim smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps they gave him the answers he was looking for. Answers we weren’t able to find."

"I can’t imagine it would have been a pleasant reunion," Freya sighed, shaking her head. "I can’t say I blame him."

Klaus’s smile faded. He had tried his best, searching for months through the ashes of Elijah’s rage. He had gone from city to city, country to country, even continent to continent. And now, as he stood on the brink of discovery, he couldn’t help but wonder what condition Elijah would be in when they finally found him.

"Well then, no point in wasting any more time," Klaus said, taking a final sip of his espresso.

Freya nodded, closing her book, quickly downing her coffee before stealing the last bite of Klaus’s croissant, earning a playful glare.

"Oi!" he growled, "I was going to eat that."

"Too slow, brother," she smirked.

Klaus rolled his eyes and stood, tossing a wad of cash on the table without bothering to count. The two of them hurried out, the waiter shaking his head as he picked up the money and Klaus's empty plate.

"Americans," he muttered under his breath.

The site of the fire was a blackened husk, the acrid smell of smoke still heavy in the air. Klaus and Freya walked along the sidewalk, watching the firefighters douse the smoldering remains with water. Distant sirens echoed, a haunting reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

"Can't believe it's still burning," Klaus mused, a slight frown on his face.

"Must have been quite the inferno," Freya remarked, her expression thoughtful.

"Magic?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't sense any," Freya said, shaking her head. "Whoever started it didn't use magic."

Klaus glanced at her, a smirk on his lips. "I thought you didn't think Elijah had anything to do with it?"

Freya shrugged. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't."

Klaus wrinkled his nose, his keen sense of smell picking up the lingering scent of blood beneath all the ash and smoke. Human, vampire, a mix of the two. The fire had raged through the night, burning hot and fast, devouring everything in its path.

"I do sense death, though," Freya murmured, her brow furrowing, her expression darkening. "Lots of it."

"Well, I can't imagine there'll be much left for us to find, considering how thorough my brother is," Klaus muttered, his gaze roving over the ruined buildings, his stomach sinking.

"Why are you so sure it was him?" Freya asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Because I can smell his cologne, no1 passant guardant," Klaus replied, wrinkling his nose.

"Kinda weird that you can smell that, Nik," Freya smirked, giving him a sideways glance.

"I'm a hybrid, love; it's one of my many gifts," Klaus replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

Freya shook her head, a wry grin on her lips, suppressing a giggle as she watched her brother sniff the air, his eyes closed, his expression one of intense concentration.

"Could be someone else with the same taste in cologne; you never know," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"It’s very difficult to come by; only a handful of stores carry it," Klaus muttered, ignoring her teasing. "And... she bought it for him just before... you know."

"Ah," Freya's expression softened, her amusement replaced by a mix of sadness and understanding.

Klaus opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the destruction once more, the weight of grief settling on his shoulders. He missed you. Your laughter, your wit, the way you could put him in his place. He admired your loyalty, your strength, and how much you loved his brother.

"What are you thinking about?" Freya asked, her voice quiet and cautious.

"Our departed sister-in-law... the cause of all of this," Klaus said, a sad smile on his lips.

"You can't blame her, you know," Freya murmured, her eyes filled with understanding and sympathy. "I miss her too."

"It's hard to be reminded, is all," Klaus replied, a hint of pain in his voice.

Freya gave him a soft, sympathetic smile, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder. "You know... I never learned how they met," she said, trying to steer the conversation toward something less melancholy.

Klaus laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it's quite a tale, and some parts I'm not privy to. But I can tell you that she was a novice in a convent," he began, a sparkle in his eye.

"A nun?!" Freya exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Indeed, although she hadn't taken her vows," Klaus chuckled, amused by the surprised look on her face.

"So, what happened? How did they end up together?" Freya asked, intrigued.

"For all parties involved, it was quite a dramatic affair," Klaus continued, a wistful smile forming on his lips. "But we have more important things to focus on, don't you think?"

Freya sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're no fun."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter and returned to focusing on the scents around him, trying to find a trail, something that might lead him to his brother. He caught the faintest whiff of blood, the scent leading away from the fire, and deeper into the city.

"This way," he said, striding confidently down a street, away from the site of the fire.

Freya hurried to catch up, her long legs making short work of the distance, her boots clattering on the cobblestone streets.

"How can you be so sure?" Freya asked, falling in step beside him, her voice low and cautious.

"I just am," Klaus said, his tone brooking no argument. "That bloody cologne of his is everywhere. No one else has such atrocious taste in fragrances."

"Nik..." Freya cautioned, her tone warning, her gaze flickering to the passersby, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "We don't know what's waiting for us. We can't just charge in."

"I know; that's why you are going in first, my dear sister," Klaus smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Nik," Freya protested, her expression indignant.

"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," Klaus grinned, giving her a playful nudge as they rounded a corner.

The two of them came to a stop outside an old building, its stone façade crumbling, the windows boarded up. Klaus gestured for Freya to go in, and with a roll of her eyes, she did.

"This place is creepy," she muttered, her boots echoing on the cracked tile floor.

"There's blood, a lot of it," Klaus said, sniffing the air, his eyes closed, his body tensed. "Upstairs."

They made their way up an old spiral staircase, the steps creaking under their feet. They reached a landing; the hallway was dark and narrow.

"Down there," Klaus said, pointing at a closed door at the end of the hall.

Freya nodded and slowly approached the door, her senses alert, her magic tingling under her skin. It was eerily quiet; the silence weighed heavy in the air, pressing down on her.

She stopped at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. She looked back at Klaus, his expression calm and composed, but she could sense his nervousness, his apprehension.

"Ready?" she whispered.

Klaus gave her a curt nod. Freya took a deep breath and turned the handle, the door opening with a creak.

"Elijah?"

The two of them were met with the sight of a massacre: body parts strewn across the room, blood splattered on the walls.

Freya gasped and took a step back, Klaus's hand gripping her shoulder. His eyes roved over the carnage, landing on a lone figure in the middle of the room, standing motionless.

"Elijah," Klaus breathed.

His brother was wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, tattered and bloodstained, covered in dirt. His hair was matted and wild, his eyes haunted, the light dimmed within them.

Klaus and Freya stepped inside, careful not to slip on the blood, the floor sticky and wet. They approached Elijah slowly, his gaze fixed on the severed arm in his hand, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Brother?" Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaching out.

"You are not real," Elijah murmured, not taking his eyes off the limb, his expression vacant and distant.

"Elijah, we're here," Freya said gently. "It's time to come home."

"I won't be fooled again," Elijah hissed, his grip tightening on the severed arm.

Klaus took a tentative step forward, one arm stretched behind him to protect Freya, the other held out, placating and non-threatening. "We're not illusions, brother," he said softly, reassuringly.

"Freya," Elijah breathed, his head snapping up, his gaze finding hers.

"Yes, Elijah, it's me," she replied, giving him a gentle smile.

He blinked, his eyes flicking from her face to Klaus's, his brow furrowing. "Have you found a way to bring her back?"

Klaus and Freya exchanged glances, their expressions sad and resigned. It wasn't something Freya wanted to do... to tap into such dark magic. She had been searching for you on the other side but found no trace. She believed you had found peace, and to tear you away from that would be a cursed, evil thing, an affront to the balance between life and death.

"Elijah, there's no way, not without consequence," Klaus said, his tone firm, his eyes filled with regret. "We discussed this."

Elijah dropped the severed arm, his hands clenching into fists. "You're wrong. There is a way."

"Elijah," Freya began, but he cut her off.

"Bring her back," he demanded, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I can't," Freya said, her voice quiet and regretful. "I'm sorry, Elijah. She's gone; she's at rest."

"No, no, no," Elijah growled, his hands coming up to grip his hair, tugging at the roots, his chest heaving, eyes wild.

"Brother, she's in a better place," Klaus tried, his tone firm and reassuring. "I think it's time you come home... You need to let her go."

Elijah shook his head, his breathing ragged, his whole body trembling. "No, no, no," he chanted, his eyes darting around the room, looking for something.

"Elijah," Freya murmured, her brow furrowed, her expression concerned. "Please, come with us. She wouldn't want this for you."

"No, no, no!" he growled, his voice echoing off the blood-spattered walls, his face contorted in a mask of rage.

He grabbed a nearby table and threw it against the wall, the sound of splintering wood reverberating through the air.

"Bloody hell," Klaus growled, grabbing Freya and yanking her backward, shielding her with his body.

Elijah lunged at them, his fangs bared, a murderous look in his eyes. He tackled Klaus, sending them both crashing into the wall, the plaster cracking under the impact.

"Nik!" Freya exclaimed, her magic sparking at her fingertips.

"Elijah, you've gone mad," Klaus grunted, shoving him away, sending him careening across the room. "She's dead."

"Niklaus," Elijah growled, his body vibrating with anger, the haunted, hollow look in his eyes replaced by raw, unhinged rage. "Bring. Her. Back."

"We can't, and you know it," Klaus spat, his eyes flashing yellow, his face shifting into the hybrid’s feral features. "She's at peace, Elijah. We need to let her go."

"I won't, I can't," Elijah raged, his body trembling, his eyes filling with unshed tears that threatened to spill over. His voice broke. "How can you ask me to do that?"

Freya’s heart clenched at the sight of her brother unraveling, his usual restraint shattered. "Come home, please," Freya pleaded, her eyes welling with tears, her voice thick with desperation. "We can help you."

Elijah's chest heaved, his wild eyes shifting from Klaus to Freya, barely recognizing them. "Get out," he growled, the words vibrating through the bloodstained room. His gaze locked on Klaus, his voice turning into a vicious snarl. "GET OUT!"

Klaus stared at him for a moment, his expression conflicted. Freya watched him pull a silver dagger out of his pocket, the familiar glint of the cursed weapon that had subjugated their family time and time again. She hadn't even known he had brought one with him, and her heart clenched at the sight. She didn’t want this for either of them. But given Elijah's state, she knew it was necessary.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Klaus said, his voice solemn. He rushed forward, his movements a blur, and before Elijah could react, he buried the blade in his brother’s chest. The gasp Elijah let out echoed in the empty, ravaged room. The look on his face was heartbreaking, a mixture of shock and pain. Klaus had to steel himself against the emotion threatening to overtake him, reminding himself it was for the best, for all of them.

"Rest now, brother," Klaus murmured, pulling him into a tight embrace, cradling his body as Elijah slumped, his strength leaving him. His big brother, the north star of the family, now lost to grief.

"I thought you didn't want to subdue him," Freya whispered, her voice shaky, her eyes wide with shock as she pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

"It was a last resort," Klaus said, his voice thick with emotion, trying and failing to hide the crack in his composure. "I couldn't bear seeing him like this any longer. I didn't think... he would be so... unhinged."

"He's grieving," Freya said softly, her eyes filled with sympathy as she knelt beside them, brushing a hand through Elijah’s matted hair. "He loves her, Nik. Losing her... it's broken him."

"I know," Klaus muttered, his arms tightening around Elijah, holding him close as if he could protect him from the demons he was fighting inside. His voice cracked, and before he could stop it, a tear slipped down his cheek. Quickly, he wiped it away, trying to maintain his strength.

"Time to go home," Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with sorrow. "For all of us."

Freya reached out, gently taking Elijah's limp hand in hers, squeezing it tight as they prepared to leave the nightmare behind. She hoped and prayed that Elijah could feel her love through the numbness, that somewhere, deep within the wreckage of his mind, he knew they would never give up on him.

That the battle to bring you back hadn’t been in vain. It had only just begun.

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[teaboot]

Batman? As in extended batman universe, specifically batman, or movies batman? I'm going to die from the hilarity of /accidentally/ following another batman fan. Generally it's on purpose lol

I was actually absorbed into the Fandom by osmosis before I even touched any of the Canon material

Even now I've only seen the Affleck movies and the Battinson one, plus a couple cartoons and like. Four comics out of order

With next to zero evidence tho I have decided that

Dick Grayson has Eldest Daughter syndrome that, speaking as an Eldest Daughter (tm) really should be addressed in the lore somewhere before he goes on a drunken bender, gets a tramp stamp, kills a man, and has a full-on mental breakdown when the Repression Dam breaks

Stephany Brown radiates "angry teen girl needs a hug" energy imo but I feel like she might break my arms? I don't know anything about her except her dad sucks but honestly same boat, would hang

Timothy Drake cannot be the helpless boohoo I see a lot of, but somehow the cool, collected, hypercompentant, übermensch-tweenybopper look is kinda sadder, like seeing a twelve year old buying groceries at the store by themselves. I want to send his ass to normal kid summer camp

I don't know pretty much anything about Duke Thomas except that he's a meta whose parents might be alive but crazy. I can only conclude that he suffers from Black Character White Fandom syndrome. I headcanon that he had an embarrassing weeb phase in middle school because he feels like the kind of kid Who'd have gone through a phase of saying "ohaio" with peace signs as a baby tween. I have no evidence to support this

Cassandra Cain might be my favourite. I think she deserves to go on an angry, irrational rampage or two, as a treat. Aggretsuko vibes that I cannot explain. I bet her favourite colour is purple

Jason Todd is my guilty comfort character and I refuse to believe he kicked the shit out of a fifteen year old while wearing a legless adult onesie. I refuse. Also yeah as a huge angry-kid-book-nerd there is no way that pride and prejudice was his number one fave, my money is on the Percy Jackson series but that could just be me projecting

Damian Wayne is Autistic, personal subscription. Because I am too and I said so. Reminds me of my baby brother, but crankier. Like a tiny old man who doesn't want to be at bingo with the other folks at the senior center.

I feel like Alfred should be allowed to be wrong about something sometimes but I still love him. Give that grandpa a gun

Bruce Wayne strikes me as a man who should have put a lot more thought and study and personal therapy consults into the idea of adopting multiple highly capable highly traumatized children he's never met before before but fuck pobody's nerfect am I right. Bisexual

[chris-hallelujah]

Oh My My My... | m.s.

Summary: This is the story of your relationship with your childhood best friend, Matt, progressing through your lives.

Warnings: none ! lots of fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1.2k

My Master List 

Be added to my tag list

A/N: The lack of motivation to write is REAL y'all. All I want to do is play dti lmao. But I have been wanting to do this story for a while. I am sure that someone in the fandom has done this before, but I have not seen it. With that being said, all ideas are my own and I do not give consent for them to be reposted, rewritten, or shared on this platform or any other.

<3 - Billie

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

seven and nine

It was the summer before second grade for you, fourth grade for the triplets. The four of you had been inseparable since you were toddlers as your parents were all close friends. There was something special between you and Matt that was different than how things were with Nick and Chris. You followed Matt everywhere. You looked at him like he had strung the stars, in your childhood mind, he did. At this point, Matt saw you as his shadow.

"Quit followin' me! I'm gonna beat ya up, kid," Matt teased sticking his tongue out. This elicited a squeal and a trail of giggles to leave your mouth as he chased you around the backyard. You knew he'd never actually hurt you, but you were happy to have him giving you some sort of attention.

"I have a feeling we're gonna have trouble keeping them two apart 'for too long," Your dad chuckled sipping his beer which caused Matt's dad to laugh and nod.

twelve and fourteen

Many of your summer days were spent with the triplets in between your neighboring backyards. The four of you played endless games of pretend or hide and seek. Finally, your dads thought it was about time you all had somewhere to play and they built you all a tree house in the tree between your houses.

The four of you sat in the treehouse playing truth or dare. As you both grew, you only became more inseparable. "Chris, truth or dare," you spoke above the pop music playing from the stereo in the corner.

"Dare," Chris said with a grin.

"I dare you to eat that grasshopper!" Nick yelled pointing at a bug on the wall. While this wasn't Chris' finest moments, he would never turn down a dare...

After you all had settled back down, Chris turned to Matt, "Matt, truth or dare."

"Dare, obviously," Matt scoffed, a slight lisp from his braces.

"I dare you to kiss y/n," Chris smirked causing Nick to bust out laughing. Matt looked at you, both of your faces the color of cherries.

"You'll have to catch me first!" you exclaimed quickly climbing out of the treehouse. Matt followed fast behind you as he chased you around the house. He caught up to you along the side of the house, now out of view of the boys in the treehouse. You were both out of breath from nerves and the chase. Matt's bright blue eyes met yours as your faces grew closer. Little did you know then, he would be your first and only kiss.

sixteen and eighteen

Matt had spent most of the summer busy working. You honestly had not seen him the whole two and a half months. Chris and Nick worked less so you still saw them often. The four of you reunited the group the night before school started with a bonfire in the boys' backyard. You made your way over wrapped in a blanket to protect you from the chilly night air. Matt stopped in his tracks. How could someone change so much in just a few months? Your hair was long and flowing, your acne had cleared, and you were no longer an awkwardly lanky preteen. It was as if he was seeing you in a whole new light.

"Hi Matt!" you smiled, thrilled to see him after all this time. He was still stunned as he pulled you into a hug. The night flew by as he continued to stare at you, barely contributing to the conversation, he took it all in.

As many predicted, the two of you got together the beginning of your sophomore, his senior, year of high school. It was a beautiful relationship built on friendship, trust, and love. If people thought you were inseparable before you started dating, they should see you now. Matt was the one who taught you to drive and was there when you took the ACT for the first time. You helped him sort through college acceptance letters and even visited some schools with him.

Then came the first fight, who knows what it had started from, all you knew was now you were yelling at each other in your childhood bedroom. "I can't stand you, Matt!" you yelled. With a huff he walked out slamming your bedroom door behind him. A puddle of tears, you collapsed onto your bed as you hugged your pillow wishing it was him.

Matt sat in his bedroom at the house next door. He paced around his room trying to send you texts and calls, all which were left unanswered. He made his way to your porch and texted you, "Im outside." Hoping beyond hope that you would come down and let him in. Before he knew it, his eyes were fluttering open and greeted with bright sunlight and your mom's empathetic face.

"You sweet boy, get in here," she said wrapping him in a throw blanket. He gave her a small smile and fell back asleep in the hallway outside your bedroom. He gave you your space, but was ready to be there when you were.

twenty one and twenty three

The two of you sat up in the treehouse, surprised it was still standing. You had just graduated college and couldn't be more excited to start your new job. The stereo in the corner played soft music as you and Matt danced around slowly, just happy to be in each other's presence. He spun you around and when you turned back to him, he was on one knee. A gasp left your lips as you bent down to meet him at his level. Nodding your head, he slipped the ring onto your finger and stood up to kiss you.

twenty two and twenty four

Church bells rang as your eyes met Matt's. You floated down the aisle to him and connected your hands. It was a small intimate wedding of your closest family and friends, but none of that mattered. All you saw was Matt in that moment. Everyone cheered as you said your 'I dos' and sealed it with a kiss. He carried you back down the aisle as you saw your moms dabbing their eyes.

The reception was the event of the year. So many old and new friends getting together. You all danced the night away until you and Matt disappeared to the honeymoon suite at a nice hotel downtown.

twenty five and twenty seven

You walked carefully as you carried a pink bundle in your arms, following Matt who had your toddler on his hip. It was the first time you were bringing your daughter home to the house you and Matt had bought from your parents. Chris and his wife (a/n its me) bought Matt's parents' old house. Nick and his husband lived in the house across the street. It was like some things had never changed. The two of you sat on the porch swing watching your son play in the yard while you held your daughter. "Can you believe this is where it all started?" you smiled up at your husband, who you'd love since you were a child.

eighty seven and eighty nine

That house was where the two of you had stayed. It earned some renovations but so much of your relationship was intertwined in its bones, you could never leave. Matt sat next to you on that same porch swing holding your hand as you both watched the stars. You looked at him as if he had strung them, because in your mind, he had.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Dangerous Games: Part 2

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte (Biker AU)

Pairing: Qimir x F!Reader

Summary: A stranger on a motorcycle arrives in your small town and you can’t help but be intrigued by him and this mission that he’s set on.

Part 1 | Qimir Masterlist

Qimir looks at you, waiting for an answer. You can't help but be curious about this...mission he's set on. Your small town has been thriving for decades. Is it truly because of corruption that lies in the shadows or is it because your town's officials are just that good at their job?

You decide with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry, but I can't. This town has good people. I refuse to believe corruption is what keeps this place going." You state as you pack up your things and move to stand.

Qimir's name is called at the pick-up counter. He stands, grabbing his backpack, "If you change your mind, call me," he slides over a napkin with his name and number on it. He then heads over to the pick-up counter, leaving you to swipe the napkin up and stuffing it in your pocket. You quickly exit the cafe before Qimir sees you.

__________________

Days go by and you don't see Qimir. However, every rumble you hear go down the street, you peer out the window in excitement. After not seeing him in sight, you scold yourself for getting so worked up about some guy you just met...a really hot guy with a really cool motorcycle you just met.

The school week comes to an end and you desperately want to hang out with your friends. You reach out to them in the group chat and they all agree to come over for a potluck dinner.

Osha mentions about bringing a friend over and you respond: Sure! The more the merrier!

Imagine your surprise when she arrives with Qimir following behind her.

"Hello again," he says with that smirk that you really want to slap off his attractive face.

"You know him?"

"How do you know him?"

You and Osha ask in unison.

"We met online through some mutual friends," Osha responds, "How do you know him?" she asks with a confused expression.

"We met at the cafe earlier this week. She kept staring at me, so I decided to talk to her."

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, "I wasn't staring at you...I was staring at your bike."

Osha raises a brow and you shrug, "It's a cool bike! I can like motorcycle bikes!"

"Have you ever ridden one?" Qimir asks.

You snort, "No, of course not! Those are death traps! I simply just like to admire from afar."

"Well, I can always let you ride on my bike," he says with a grin and you just know there's a double meaning to his statement.

You scoff, "Hard pass."

Osha gestures to you and Qimir, "Is this gonna be a problem?"

"No, no. It's fine. Friendly banter," you step aside and gesture for them to come further in, "Like I said the more the merrier."

You were going to regret that statement later.

______________________

You were not drunk enough for this.

The dinner portion had been all well and good. Various dishes and desserts were spread out on your kitchen island. All of you chatted and ate. You did your best in being amiable towards Qimir but the man made it hard when he would say such suggestive things, send you winks, and just give that smirk that made you want to smack him and kiss him at the same time.

And now he's taking off his shirt because your friends decided to play strip uno. Basically regular uno but every time you get hit with a "draw four" card, you take off a piece of clothing. This is what you get for providing you light weight friends alcohol.

Your friends whistle and holler as Qimir sits back down at the dining table. His upper torso all on display, a silver chain contrasting his golden brown skin. You avert your eyes anywhere but at him. Already you hate that his face is attractive, you can't let him know his body is just as hot.

You're staring down at the table, spacing out until Torbin tosses a plastic chip at you, "Hey! It's your turn!"

You look at the pile in the middle of the table and curse. Osha placed a "draw four" card, thus you had to strip.

Luckily, you were wearing an undershirt so you wouldn't be completely bare.

"Booo!" Osha exclaimed teasingly and you flicker her ear. In retaliation, she poke your side, causing you to burst out in giggles.

You happened to look up and see Qimir watching you, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly regain your composure and quickly grab four cards, "Next!" you say, eyes avoiding Qimir again.

Luckily, the game eventually ended before you had to take your bra or underwear off. Qimir, coincidentally, was in a similar state of undress as he was now just in his underwear.

Everyone else promptly leaves, all of their beds calling to them. Osha was completely knocked out. She was fast asleep on your couch, a soft snore coming from her.

Qimir stares at her with amusement, "I guess I'll also be staying tonight."

"Excuse me?" you ask him.

"She was my ride and I don't want to just leave her here."

"She's fine with me."

"I don't want her to be upset I left her though."

"She won't be."

"How do you know?"

You glare at the man who keeps a straight face, "Why do you want to stay here? You gonna rob me or something?"

He looks around your place, "Don't think there's anything super valuable I can take here."

"...I don't know if I should be offended by that or not. But anyway, it's fine. There's a pull out couch in my office. You can sleep there I guess."

You turn around to start cleaning up, while still in just your bra and underwear. You glance over your shoulder and see Qimir clearly checking you out.

You immediately try to cover up, "Look away, perv!"

He laughs, "Hey, I saw you checking me out earlier too! It's only fair."

"I hate you."

"That so?"

"You are the complete opposite of what I stand for and believe in."

"So it seems."

"You live dangerously and I like to play it safe."

He takes your chin in his hand and moves it so you can look into his deep brown eyes, "Why don't you try to live dangerously for once?" You watch as he glances at your lips. A part of you is screaming for you to pull away, to retreat, abort mission.

But another part of you, a much larger and louder part of you, is telling you to "fuck it all" and kiss Qimir.

So you do.

You grab him by the back of the neck, pulling his lips to yours. There's no hesitation on his part as his hands run down your sides and grip your hips. He pulls you closer so you're flushed right against his chest.

"Wait," you pull away, eyeing the still sleeping Osha.

"Bedroom?"

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly, taking his hand in yours and leading him to your bedroom.

[reallyromealone]

Title: little mouse

Fandom: mha

Warnings: child reader, male reader, reader goes through stuff, fluff

Notes: none

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

All he ever knew were the walls of U.A, the two year old waddling Through the halls of the school as his nanny and a hero followed patiently. It was all he could remember, U.A was his home after all as he had been here since he was just barely a year old. He wasn't allowed to leave the school grounds, Nedzu putting together things to accomodate the boy. (Name) was a special boy though why he was special was a rather tragic case.

Everything was tragic when the commission was involved after all.

Especially when they have ideas, even worse when they decide to test those ideas.

And (name) was a victim to forced quirk evolution, the boys parents both having healing quirks in (country) and after a tragic "incident" he was in the commissions custody.

And their test worked, (name) was forced to develop his quirk early and had it evolve painfully.

And now he was the only toddler in Japan with a healing quirk, one of four healers in the country.

"Isn't there supposed to be another healer?!" A hero hissed out as he was brought to U.A after a vicious battle with a villain, Recovery girl dealing with more critical situations "get them to heal me!"

"Currently the other healer is having his nap as he spent the afternoon playing with his toys" snipe said casually as he brought in supplies from the back for recovery girl "the fuck are you talking about?"

"The other healer here is a toddler" recovery girl said tossing him a pack of pain meds "for your bruised ribs" recovery girl was fiercely protective of her tiny protege, hell they didn't even know if he wanted to be a healer when he was older but they supported him no matter what.

(Name) was napping peacefully, Nedzu having put a little blanket on (name) as he worked, he loved his adoptive son but god did he love it when (name) was quiet. Nedzu didn't like children, he didn't at all but he wouldn't lie that he felt warmth towards his son, having grown to love him like his own "papa..." "Yes little mouse?"

"Park?"

Guess paperwork would have to wait.

The children of U.As teachers had a park on campus, (name) loved playing at it especially when Nedzu joined "papa look!" He was just sliding down the slide but the books Nedzu read said to support your child no matter how small "very nice little mouse" he said sitting on the bench, the toddler having an absolute blast at it.

"After this though, we are expected by Chiiyo"

"Ok papa!"

[rileyglas]

okay here me out… what about alastor, Lucifer and Adam and their s/o meeting their fandom counterparts cat alastor, cat luci, and tiny Adam? Just a thought have a good day! 👍😁

Love this! Thank you for my first ever request!

Meeting their Fandom Counterparts Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam x gn!reader

Cat Alastor

“Ew - what the actual fuck is that?” you ask, looking cautiously over the shoulder of the Radio Demon. A small red thing stared up at you with a smile that looked eerily similar to your husbands. “I - I think it’s a cat, my dear. He followed me home from Rosie’s and I just couldn’t help but feel attached.” Alastor hums in amusement, bending down to pick it up. The cat blinks each eye separately before nuzzling into his coat. “Uhm - I don’t think you should -” you try to warn but the cat hisses with a hint of audible static. A few tentacles burst from its back and flailed in a show of anger. 

“Oh wow…that’s….that’s somethin’.” Angel Dust chimes in from the couch. Alastor gives a few soft pats on the cat's head, carefully minding the tiny antlers between its ears. “Now, now, be nice. They will learn to love you just as much as I have already. Oh you are just the most darling thing aren’t you!?” Alastor coos and mumbles. The sight is enough to make even the cutest of demons nauseous. 

You and Angel look at eachother with matching faces of disgust and apprehension. He shrugs, “Hey, s’long as I don’t have to sleep with that thing, do whatever you please.” Angel walks over and places a hand of pity on your shoulder, “Good luck with that toots.”

Back in your shared room you kick off your shoes and attempt to plop onto the bed. Before your butt hits the mattress a loud yelp makes you jump back to your feet. There’s that damned cat again and this time, it’s four times its normal length, stretched out over your side of the bed. “Hey shoo - fuckin’ menace!” Your attempts go ignored much to Alastor’s delight. You shoot him a glare, “Your cat, deal with it.” 

Alastor rubs the cat's stomach, “Awe dear don’t be jealous. He just wants some cuddles.” The cat purrs and shrinks back to its usual small size. It jumps down and hides under the bed. You huff, “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Mid way through your shower, a scream of pure terror interrupts your peace. You run out in a towel to see what all the noise was about. “Hey I heard a scream, what happ - Unholy fuck WHY DOES HE HAVE A KNIFE?” you yell to Alastor who sits smugly on the edge of the bed. 

The red cat sat next to him with a knife in its mouth. Head cocked to the side with the same smug grin your husband doted. Alastor chuckles, obviously very happy with himself, “I sent him down to see Lucifer. Sweet music to my ears. I think this cat is a wonderful addition to the hotel.”

Still dripping wet you roll your eyes, “Uhg whatever, just don’t let him keep the knife.” you mumble before returning to the shower. 

Cat Lucifer

You sit in the lobby of the hotel with a small white cat in your lap. It purred loud enough even Husk could hear it from the bar, “You gonna try and keep that thing?” he asks. You pat the cat's head, “Of course! I think he looks just like Lucifer! Don’t you?” Husk rolls his eyes at your cutesy voice, knowing damn well your boyfriend wasn’t going to buy it. 

When Lucifer returns from his tower he greets you then freezes seeing the cat, “My love…w-what do you have there?” his face twists in a look of repulsion. You dangle the cat in front of his face, “THIS is Luci - isn’t he adorable! He looks just like you!” The cat stares at Lucifer but its eyes look empty as some drool dribbles down it’s chin

“Eh are you sure he’s…uh - a good fit for us?” He takes a step away from you, “Look I know I’ve been working a lot but getting a cat might not -” the cat jumps from your arms onto the top of his hat, playfully pawing at the snake wrapping around the base. Cute chirps leave its mouth making Lucifer melt. “Aweee I guess he is just a cute little thing isn’t he?”

You gracefully remove the cat from his hat, rubbing its belly in your arms, “Soooooo can we keep him?” you continue to pat his belly and hit a spot that causes the cat to sprout six tiny red wings. “Oh my!! Look dear!! He even has adorable angel wings! We HAVE to keep him now.”

Lucifer glares at the cat, its eyes still empty as if not a thought was behind them. He sighs in defeat when he sees how happy you are. “Alright. You can keep him on one condition, you have to change his name.” 

You squeeze the cat tightly in excitement, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” As you rush up the stairs Lucifer turns to Husk, “That thing looks nothing like me…right?” his voice drips with desperation for an answer. Husk looks at him with a cocked eyebrow, “Do ya really want me to answer or would ya rather just pretend I did?” 

Little Adam

Adam’s office was a spacious one. Large enough you were able to have your own couch to lounge on and read while he did his work. It was a usual afternoon of quiet reading and listening to him mumble to himself when Lute knocked on his door. 

“Sir there’s a situation.” she announces. Before Adam can stand something small darts in under Lute’s legs. You leap back onto the couch and scream, “Jesus Mary Joseph it’s a rat!!!” Adam swiftly bends down and picks it up, “Holy shit! It’s a little me!” he exclaims with more excitement than expected. 

“Hey hon maybe we should be cautious with this - thing.” you try to reason with him. Lute looks to you with an agreeing side eye, “Sir he has been causing complete chaos. Would you like me to ‘take care’ of him?”

Adam coddles the thing in his hands, gasping at the idea, “What!? Get rid of this handsome little shit? Absolutely not! I’m going to keep him as my own little dude. Aren’t I Little Adam?” Little Adam squeaks incomprehensible nonsense and gives a tiny fist bump before taking a seat on the real Adam’s shoulder like a picturesque angel. 

Lute scoffs, more than annoyed, “I don’t think you understand sir, he tried stabbing St. Peter before hiding in Sera’s dress like a roach. It would be best if -” 

“Bitch keep your hands off him!” Adam yells, holding a protective hand over his shoulder. “He has feelings too…I mean - I think?” He looks questioningly to Little Adam who crosses his arms and nods smugly. “See!! Now leave us. I’ve got…big…important angel..shit to do or whatever.” he waves her away without another look.

“Good luck!” Lute growls to you. She slams the door on the way out. You walk over to the desk where both Adams now sat reeling over paperwork. Little Adam looks up to you and begins making obscene gestures, humping the air, and flicking his tongue. “Uhg - he IS NOT coming home with us.” you recoil in disgust. Adam raises an eyebrow, “Awe common sugar, he’s adorable. Just like me! You can’t say no to that face!” 

You roll your eyes, “Nope. Not a chance. He stays here. I’ll go get him a hamster cage or something.” 

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you!!! :}} 🐗

@sillyandquest

I really want to show them off but I also really don't want people to steal/use them <:( I've had too much of that recently..

Also thank you!! :)))))

@ocinstit

I'm not sure what you're asking.. <:0 So far he's only seen her in her security guard uniform if that what you meant! No Vanny costume yet.

@platinumsun490

WWAAAAHGHG THANK YOU!!! :DDDDD

:DDD Thank you! I'm glad to hear you like how I do my asks! Also I hope you have a better time in the fandom than I did 😅

I have not played it or seen a play through yet <:00

(My cookie run ocs)

Thank you <:) The doctors believe they've found what it is and now its a matter of trying to treat it..

Also AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD What inspired me to make them was seeing other people making pirate cookie OCs and all the beautiful and creative designs everyone had. It made me want to make some of my own! :}}

As for how I designed them, I'm afraid its a process I cant really explain.. I just kind'a slapped things together and tweaked them until I was satisfied. Although I kept in mind that I wanted all of them to look different. So if I accidentally game 2 of them the same shaped shirt collars, I'd go back and change it on one of them :00 I think that con

Now, some information...

Well, the first thing that came to mind is Blue Beauty's lore change! :00 I changed it so she came from the same ocean that Star Coral cookie is from! So her redesign will be very space themed...👀👀

And lastly, thank you so much! I hope tomorrow goes well for you too! :))

@captain-skyler1987

LSKJFKSFSKDFSK

@avaveevo

She's pretty much the same as she is in canon, minus a few dialogue charges :0

@lycaran

DARK CACAOOOOOOO 😭😭💞💞💞💞

@ozzytheplushiemonster (XDD Its okay, I was late too)

I present to you!,

A barrel of redvines! :))

@smithanonsworld

I wanna pet it so bad <:'((((

@misscherrypie

AWWW I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH 😭😭💞💞💞

Man, for their own sakes the Autobots shouldn't study most of our history 💀

@palettepainter

The main thing I thought of for my Metagross is that his four brains are slightly out of sync. And when he talks there are four voices talking at once in slightly different tones. Sometimes when he gets really anxious or frustrated the voices will say different things entirely :( the poor guys..

As for my Queenie, yes! She has major mom vibes :))

Thank you very much <:)) you guys' comments have been very comforting during this time 😭💞💞

(Worm post)

XD Well I'm glad you liked the drawing! :))))

@thesweetdevilsamantha

:DDD Thank you!! :)))))

@londontragedies

WAAGG THANK TOOU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭💞💞💞💞

XD aww! What a cute draWHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE ACCUSED OF BLOWING UP A PIRATE SHIP?

@dreamweave01

Thank you so much!! :DDDD And tbh I don't think I can just claim an art style.. If you want to to replicate my art style once or twice purely for the sake of a learning exercise, then who am I to stop you? That's what I did to learn too :0

@r4iri0ts

I've been hanging in there as best I can.. I'm still unwell and these past few days have been really bad so I'm trying to take it easy. Hoping that this will all blow over soon😔

Thank you <:))) I'm hoping this is over soon!

Pirates have become my favorite thing to dress as for Halloween. But I gotta say, your costume is much funnier XDD

@cat7890

I am scared and also confused 💀

I'm hanging in there as best I can. Have had some bad health days recently and all the art theft, tracings and new redesign thefts have been the cherry on top. 😔

Also thank you! :D I used to be so nervous about jumping from fandom to fandom, basically asking my followers for permission to do so. I'm so glad I'm out of that headspace and know fully understand that this is MY hobby blog, and I can draw from what ever fandom I want! XDD

Yeah 🥲

[grandlinedreams]

Well, since I have fallen for your writing pretty hard (it's a blessing really, because so far only your reader can be read as a he when it comes to the Fallout series fandom), my brain's been spewing ideas at me.

I'd love to see a genuinely jealous Cooper. Awfully and painfully jealous, where he's actually hurting and doubting himself, but is also angry. Not the kind of playful jealousy he felt towards Lucy, no. Something deeper. And angry at the slimy guy who's already stepped over any kind of boundaries when he's laid his eyes on what's his. But they need the information, they can't go forward without it, so the plan is for the reader (you knooow, that version of the reader from that particular fic of yours, where they are crafting ammo) to get close, flirt with him, go real sweet on him. But that guy's too touchy. Too close, too dangerously close. To getting his brains blown out of his skull by Cooper's gun, that is.

I absolutely love your writing ❤️

OUGH YES I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERY TIME but also thank-you!! I do my absolute best not to gender reader bc it bugs me to do it unless I'm asked to and it's also just a whole lot more inclusive! 🥺❤️

ㅡ

Warnings: jealous!Cooper, some self deprication, mentions of pre-War Cooper, weapons maker/dealer!reader, touch of angst, Canon typical violence, Lucy just watching all of this like ??, skeezy informant dude do be skeezin', boundaries very overstepped (unwanted touch, lewd words), questionable alcohol,cursing, quick and dirty Makeout sesh at the end lmao

The place is a "bar" in the lowest sense of the term. A gutted out building that was undoubtedly a diner of some kind before the war, now with blown out windows but surprisingly, a neon 'open' sign that halfway works in places, spitting sparks that makes Lucy eye it warily. "Is this place...safe?"

You snort. "If you're lookin' for safe, you should've stayed in that tin-can vault of yours." You adjust the sling of your pack, now far lighter than it'd been when you left with Cooper, Lucy, and Dogmeat. "We need information, and the best informant we've got likes to hang around here."

Lucy still doesn't look happy about it, but she reluctantly follows as you step forward. The inside resembles the outside for the most part, the same kind of dismal grey of the wastelands ㅡ but it's busy.

Battered tables teem with scavengers and raiders alike, and you pretend not to notice them ㅡ your attention is on the man doing a piss-poor job of wiping down what's left of a counter. A radio crackles, a singer croons sweetly, but the pitch is made tinny for the way the man casually smacks the top of it when it stutters. A barely there glance up at you, silent prompt that you follow.

"Three drinks," you say without preamble, shoving a handful of caps forward. Your fingers drum, eyes roaming in feigned disinterest ㅡ and then nod when three short glasses are shoved to you. The liquid is of a questionable color, watered down amber ㅡ you sniff it before you take a sip.

"Tastes like shit," you say when Cooper approaches and you hand him his glass, followed by Lucy, "but it gets the job done."

Lucy eyes the glass. "What is it?"

You down the rest of it. "Poor man's excuse for whiskey, I think. Or might be deathclaw piss, who knows."

Cooper snorts when Lucy's nose wrinkles, but she downs it with a grimace that makes you snicker and pat her back.

"Atta girl, vaultie. Atta girl."

The four of you settle at a table, Dogmeat at your feet as you stretch out, catching Lucy's look. "What?"

"What are we here for?"

"Information, vaultie," Cooper cuts in, "we don't have shit to go on as far as following your dear ol' daddy, so we gotta get some."

"And the best bet is getting it from that sneaky bastard," you let your eyes drift so that Lucy follows, "over there."

The man in question has clearly seen better days ㅡ or what he can see through the thick, wild tangle of silver-streaked hair on his head, the matching mess of beard that spills from his chin to his chest. He's sitting with a handful of scavengers, oblivious to the fact he's being watched.

"Him?" Lucy's tone expresses her doubt. "He doesn't look likeㅡ"

You knock your knuckles on the table to quiet her. "The point of being an informant, Lucy," you say in a low mutter, "is to not look like a fuckin' idiot who's listening in on shit they shouldn't."

"So who's gonna go talk to him?"

You sigh, eyeing the two. Cooper is obviously out of the question ㅡ it's the grace of his hat and the fact his back is to most of them that allows him some anonymity, but you have no doubts near everyone knows who he is. Or at the very least, what he is.

And Lucy... well. She's been out here for weeks now, but there's still a naive shinyness to her that says she'll fuck it up immediately, even if she doesn't mean to.

"Me," you say, and Lucy blinks at the same time Cooper tenses, eyes dark as they study your face. There's a protest on the tip of his tongue, one you silence as you continue, "I'm the best bet we have of getting what we need."

Lucy glances between you and Cooper, sensing the rising tension ㅡ and Dogmeat whines and nudges at your leg. Your eyes lock with Cooper's.

"Fine," he rasps. "Do what you have to."

ㅡ

Cooper is pissed. Lucy can tell that, the way his eyes never leave you as you trek back to the counter, another couple of caps for another drink ㅡ not for you, her, or him. But for that informant, the way you gesture with a casual nod in his direction.

He watches as the drink gets sent, the informant looking up, and his gloved hands tighten in his lap at the grin the other man gives you before he waves you over. He hates the casual way you step, relaxed, friendly ㅡ flirtatious, almost.

Cooper is not stupid. Far from it, he knows better than to outright stake claim on you in a way that can be used against him by others ㅡ but you're a chink in the proverbial armor, a weakness he's both grateful for and wishes he didn't have.

It's unspoken though, that you're his ㅡ and the fact he can't stroll over and make a point of it annoys him. Especially with the way the man's hand drifts over your leg, meaty fingers on a thigh Cooper has touched in a more intimate way, spaces reserved for him and him alone ㅡ seeing this fucker paw at you makes his blood boil.

"Looks like they're doing a good job so far," Lucy says, watching a little less intently than Cooper, "do you thinkㅡ"

"Vaultie." Cooper's voice is low and sharp. "Shut the fuck up."

It's not Lucy's fault, not really ㅡ but Cooper's two seconds from putting a bullet in this guy's head, information be damned. In another life, the life he'd had before, he figures he wouldn't be so irritated. He'd been handsome, hadn't really had to do much to make his stance clear ㅡ but now?

Now he knows what he looks like, how he acts ㅡ and the softer lining of your relationship is still new enough that there's that kernel of doubt. That you'd take someone else if given the chance, someone who could give you far more than he can ㅡ because all he can give you is all he knows.

Death and destruction, picking apart things until there's nothing left. All he knows how to do is take and take and take ㅡ and while you've yet to be bothered by it, he knows it's just a matter of time.

He tracks that hand when it slides up your back, teeth clenched because now you look distinctly uncomfortable. It's hidden, but he knows how to look for it, better at reading you than anyone else ㅡ and it's quickly fraying restraint that keeps him from getting up and coming to your rescue.

You flinch at the next touch, barely there recoil ㅡ but it's enough to snap Cooper's threadbare patience as he stands, ignoring Lucy's look of confusion as he strolls over.

His foosteps are slow, feigned casual as he approaches, settling a hand on your shoulder. Again, casual, were it not for the possessive pressure as he drawls, "Sorry for the interruption, but I need to borrow my friend here."

He's hauling you up before you can protest, and he commends himself on choosing this option rather than the one he so desperately wants ㅡ one that would involve splattering the brains of that fucker across the back wall. Even so, he takes too much pleasure in the intentional hand on said gun when the informant opens his mouth to protest.

He hurries you away from the table, ignores Lucy and Dogmeat as he tugs you past the table and outside, around the corner from prying eyes.

"Cooper," you snap, "what the fuckㅡ"

You're silenced by the aggressive press of his mouth on yours, gloved hand still firm around your upper arm as he cages you against the wall. He dominates the kiss, nips at your lip, deepens it with the muffle of a soft moan from you.

His other hand wanders, up your thigh, side, back ㅡ all the places that piece of shit dared to touch you. "I know I said do what you have to," he mutters when he breaks away to nip at your neck, "but I have my limits, sweetheart. 'specially when some fuckface is touchin' what's mine."

You squirm. "Cooperㅡ"

Dark eyes meet yours. "You are mine, aren't you darlin'?" You nod, and he clicks his tongue. "Words, babydoll. I wanna hear you say it."

It takes a second for you to find your voice. "Yours," you say, "I'm yours, Cooper."

He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. Less aggressive but no less consuming, only letting up to let you breathe as he presses against you. "Good," he rasps, "better rememher that because I don't intend on losin' you, nor do I like the idea of fuckin' sharing."