#allegra chant

[dom1re]

MCtober Week 5: Costume Party! 🎃 (Part 3/3)

And last Allegra Chant as a black cat 🐈‍⬛💕 I was really excited for this one coz @lyworth 's writing is absolutely gorgeous toptier amazing 🤌🤌 the costume was lowkey inspired by Jiji from Kiki's Delivery Service can u tell hehe hope u enjoy

See here for Part 1🏴‍☠️ and Part 2🧛

(This was done as part of my followers event as well as #MCtober2024)

[galaxiasgreen]

CUTIESSSSS!!!

I'm alive! Please enjoy these lil sketch-doodles as a pre-treat for March 22, 2024 (The birthday of my first Ominis x OC fic 👀)

[3xm-draconic]

Ascension. (werebat cyris and astarion story)

Summary: Astarion makes a choice…

Ascension, ascension was in his grasp!

A few more cuts, just utter the words and…and…

Astarion looked around.

At all his frightened…“siblings”

How they squirmed and shivered.

How they begged, pleaded…cried.

For 200 years he was subjected to shit, PURE SHIT…but so were they…

No…No he Needed to do this…

Astarion raised the staff and placed Cazador in his spot.

He opened his mouth to chant…

Something twisted inside him…like a writhing pit of serpents in his guts…

“I…I…”

The power…the strength…the pain he would cause…

This wasn’t him.

He didn’t want to hurt them, he…cared about them.

It was his fault most of them were there in the first place, he…he needed to make things right.

“I can’t do this…I WON’T do this” Astarion took the staff and broke it over his knee.

Cazador laughed “weak, pathetic child…you will regret this” he sneered as he disappeared into a cloud of black mist and escaped…

Things…Things got…well..

Things changed…

The spawn were freed and sent to live in the underdark, they found a little ruin there that they took over and made their own. Astarion���surprisingly…sort of…became the leader of this…little vampire kingdom.

He made sure there was order, set some ground rules:

1: don’t hunt people.

2: don’t hurt each other.

3: work together for the betterment of everyone.

Of course not everyone followed these rules.

Some spawn left deeper into the underdark to live outside of his rules, but most compiled.

Now…there was the matter of…his friends…

There was a…mixed bag of reactions…

They were mad at him for betraying Cyris, Allegra tried to kill him but Jaheira held her back. Eventually things calmed down and they whent to an inn to recuperate…

Astarion missed Cyris, missed his warmth, his laugh, his smile…

Allegra and Wyll were out looking for him, Gods…he hopes he hasn’t…

Astarion shutters and falls to the floor of his room “Gods…please…”

He turns to the hearth…

He sets a little mug of hot tea on the mantel with a plate of cookies “This feels stupid…but I have to try…I HAVE to…I need to” he mumbles to himself.

“Y-Yondalla?” Astarion says “look…I…I don’t know how to do this…I haven’t prayed to the gods…any god..in some time” he sighed “but…I need to know he’s safe…please…give me a sign”

Something opened Astarion’s window…

He whipped around to see…

“CYRIS!” Astarion happily cried, but the man that stood before him had a dark look in his eyes…

“Cyris?...” Astarion backed up against the wall…

“shhh…Don’t make this harder than it has to be” Cyris said, his voice was cold.

“Cyris wait-!” Astarion cried but he was pinned to the wall, Cyris’s hand on his throat…

“I…I don’t want to do this…but you made your choice darlin…”

“C-Cy…I..I d-didn’t…” he gasped

“Hush now…I’ll make this painless…” he murmured sweetly as he kissed his neck…

“I still can’t help but love you…” he whispered as he sank his fangs into Asarion’s neck…

It…was warm…

The bite of a werebat was like being wrapped in a warm blissful embrace…

“C…cy-ris…~” Astarion uttered, lost in nirvana… “Cy…I d-din’t do it, I didn’t ascend”, Cyris unlatched and pulled away, his eyes now full of pain and shock…worry “what?”, “…the spawn are alive…” Astarion said.

The last thing he said…

Before the world went black…

[cristina-landi-wingobia-art]

Cristina Landi, Gioconda, grafite su carta, mm 290x225 , Serie " Vita Contadina", Firenze Il suo nome era Antonietta, ma tutti la chiamavano Gioconda per il suo essere sempre allegra, serena e per il suo dolce sorriso. Una vita passata nei campi, la sua famiglia, il lavoro e la preghiera scandivano il passare dei suoi giorni vissuti sempre con un lieto sorriso sul volto: un'anima semplice e gioiosa, un caro ricordo della mia infanzia. Cristina Landi, Gioconda, graphite on paper, mm 290x225 , Series "Peasant Life", Firenze  Her name was Antonietta, but everyone called Gioconda for being always cheerful, serene and for her sweet smile. A life spent in the fields, her family, work and prayer chanted the passing of her life lived always with a happy smile on her face: a simple and joyful soul, a fond memory of my childhood.

[galaxiasgreen]

ANON HAS 10/10 TASTE THIS FIC IS SO GOOD GO READ A SONG OF SAINTS AND SINNERS 🫵😍👌🥰🤝

Shout out to @lyworth and her fic A Song of Saints and Sinners. A unique and captivating story. 10x10 recommend. The sass and banter are brilliant.

Shout out to @lyworth and their fic! ✨

enjoy the banter of Song of Saints and Sinners on AO3 👇

[namesetc]

Musical Fem names

requested by anon!

---

Allegra

Arietta / Arrieta

Aria / Ariah / Ariyah

Aurear

Arianthe

Cabeletta

Cadence

Capella / Cappella

Carol

Celesta

Cadena

Cadenza

Canta

Cantata

Carmya

Chante

Corissande

Demi

Fillira

Harmony

Hymm

Harper

Jaren

Jazz

Key

Kadenza

Karcsi

Karoly

Lyra

Lyre

Lygia

Lyric

Lyrica / Lyrika

Lyrical

Lyricia

Medley

Melody / Melodie

Mavelle

Mavis

Melodia

Nocturne

Ottava

Octavia

Odelet

Odelina

Odeline

Odelle

Phillira / Philyra

Philomella

Piper

Rhapsody

Reena / Rina

Sonata / Sonatta

Sonatina

Song

Stanza

Serana

Shirina

Tamber

Viola

[dhufflebee]

visto che la fic Spina x Bryan non arrivava mai, alla fine ne ho scritta una io

una roba un po’ così, con poco Spina e molto Bryan, abbastanza angst / sad (perché mi voglio male in quanto italiana e in quanto romanista)

speriamo che la prossima fic di questi due che compare sul tumblrcalcio sia un po’ più allegra, se la meritano 🙈

.

It’s been 111 days since the last time Bryan hugged Leo during a match.

Well, if that can even be called a hug – holding Leo’s head, choking back tears while he lies on the ground and desperately cries in pain. God, if they hadn’t been inthe midst of playing Belgium at the Euros (if only they hadn’t been playing at all), Bryan would have carried Leo off the pitch all by his fucking self and held him without letting go until his leg was good again. Instead, all he could do was stare numbly as the medical staff wheeled Leo off the pitch, his hands on his face and his hopes shattered.

The Euros hadn’t felt quite so magical after that (not for Bryan, at least). Bryan loves all his teammates, but Leo was the one who made everything better. Leo and Bryan weren’t as oblivious or obvious as some other duos (couples?) in the national team, but they were always together and had brought their mutual understanding and unspoken connection from Trigoria to Coverciano, and then to Europe… until that damned night.

When they beat Spain and Lore put on Leo’s shirt and everyone chanted Spina Spina like an anthem, the tears on Bryan’s face weren’t just happy ones, because it wasn’t fair that Leo wasn’t there to celebrate with them (with him).

And the blissfull, incredible night at Wembley – what he wouldn’t give for the hug he and Leo shared after the win to have been between two deliriously happy friends (who were definitely more than friends) in their sweaty kits, instead of a way too short one hindered by clothes and crutches and other people.

Now Bryan’s tossing and turning in the bed of a hotel in fucking Norway of all places, with mocking chants still ringing in his ears and burning shame eating away at his guts. God, what a fucking mess. The team disappointed everyone – themselves, the coach, the fans. Bryan can almost picture Leo’s hard expression as he watches the match on tv, and it hurts like a bitch, knowing that look would be directed at him too.

Except Leo wouldn’t look at them like that (especially not at him). He’d be his usual self, able to find something positive even in the worst defeats, ready to cheer for his teammates and offer insightful comments on their performances, and damn Bryan misses all that so much. He misses sneaking into Leo’s room at night in the rare away games they’re not already together, and spending hours talking and reviewing gameplays and muffling laughter in their pillows and hugging and and and. He misses the way Leo looks at him the last moments before he falls asleep, he misses stroking his hair, his neck, his back while they lie on the bed, legs intertwined, breathing almost in sync.

And maybe most of all Bryan misses the support and validation (and love) Leo has come to represent in his life. In this rubbish norwegian night, Bryan’s self-doubt is weighing on his chest like a mountain: he’s afraid he’s been playing like shit lately (even if Lollo and Gianlu keep telling him it’s not true), and only Leo’s soft words and careful hands could help him.

Enough of that. Bryan’s already on the brink of tears because of the awful match, and thinking any more about Leo and how he misses him like a limb would surely destroy him. He can’t do that to himself.

It’s been 111 days since Bryan last hugged Leo during a match, and at least 75 more days have to pass before they’ll play together again. God only knows how he’ll survive until then.

[senatushq]

NAME. Vivianne Dahlia AGE & BIRTH DATE. 38 & April 13th, 1984 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her SPECIES. Demigod ( Spartoi ) OCCUPATION. Unemployed FACE CLAIM. Ana de Armas

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: manipulation, sacrifice, suicide, pregnancy ) Screaming, alone, far too young and seconds before the chime of midnight, a new mother lay on the floor of her bathroom, tears and perspiration leaving wet trails down her face. She delivered her own daughter, arms trembling as they cradled the wailing infant. When Allegra looked into her daughter’s eyes, she felt only resentment and despair. The screaming child was an unwelcome, unexpected stranger. She was a little thing that only demanded of her and gave nothing back in return. A month since her daughter’s birth and already Allegra’s exhausted eyes were wild, her hair unkempt and a cold smile plastered on her face that chilled a concerned neighbor. A chant had begun the night of May 13. The child stirred uncomfortably in her sleep, her eyelids pressing tight in a bad dream and her little feet kicking at the blanket wrapped around her. Her mother came close, a shining knife nestled inside both of her trembling hands before the knock came. The child was stolen by her visitors that night, leaving Allegra to eventually wake up on the floor of her home and never to look for her daughter again, nor speak of her existence. The child was a normal little witch, at least in appearances. But she grew weaker by the day, paler and more sickly. Her saviors feared the worst - they feared her mother had taken all her magic, corrupted her and fed on her youth. The witches that had saved her now left her before the door of another, another who would burden themselves with the sickly little witch orphan, one they firmly believed was not too long for this world.

She called him Father, but he was not her father. She called them dreams, but they were not dreams. Father treasured them. He had brought her from the brink of death and named her after life. She was his prized possession, the one who would ask her about her dreams every morning. Despite difficult beginnings, Vivianne believed she was blessed. The kids at school would speak of their mothers and fathers, looking at her with sympathy that she only had one parent to speak of. But she was private in her pride and smugness, for they didn’t know that she had a family larger and more powerful than any of them. Her coven. The children that had grown within it were her brothers and sisters, the adults her aunts and uncles. When you see the world through the rose-colored glasses of a child, the red flags look like vibrant dahlias. It took her time to understand that the older children could not stand to be around her, for they feared her when she spoke of predictions and dreams. She spoke about them less, only allowing Father to hear. The dreams grew fewer, but more significant in content. She dreamed of a man outside their coven doing something bad and she told Father about it. She was 9 the first time Father told her that playtime was over. She frowned and thought to return to her dolls later, but she’d never touch the dolls again. She returned home that night, covered in blood and sent to a newer, bigger room of Father’s estate, one without dolls and covered with books and tools. Blood magic, Father called it all. They killed an enemy of their coven. Powerful. Necessary. Protecting our family. 

She was 12 when she realized that each of those significant dreams in her childhood had let Father to commit atrocities. They were once just stories and dreams for her, but they had been prophecies for him. Without knowing, she was the one who had killed the man in her dream and countless others that she had seen do wrong or speak ill. Father’s ambition grew, as did his paranoia, for he began to see more enemies within the coven than outside. Powerful. Necessary. Protecting our family, she repeated to herself. She was 13 the first time she killed another human being at Father’s behest. She traveled for him, shed blood for him, lied and stole for him. She did it all, if only to keep him away from her younger brothers and sisters. By 16 years old, very month she would dream of a different witch in her coven who planned to disobey, disappoint or destroy Father. Every month she forced herself to choose between family members, every month she did what she could to restore order and faith if only to stop the treason and stop Father’s descent into madness. Powerful. Necessary. Protecting our family. She cried, she screamed, she begged Father to come out of the fog of paranoia and his hunger for power if only to listen to her. He wouldn’t. The coven started to see her as his tool, as an untrustworthy and tainted as him. One night, Vivianne traveled to her favorite part of Italy and decided to watch her last sunset, for she decided she would not wake in the morning to suffer more of this torment.

Life seemed determined to keep Vivianne alive, for she lived to return home and see Father destroy nearly her entire family over the next few years. It all boiled down to one night, only 6 months into Vivianne’s 18th year of life. One family of a mother, father and 3 children had planned to escape the coven and take with them 3 artifacts that Father had collected. They were powerful things, capable of giving the Dahlia Sovereign untold ability with enough practice and experimentation. Vivianne kept this all to herself, doing only what she could to mask the family’s escape without anyone being the wiser. Unfortunately, Father found out about the family and sought them out. The man and woman were killed, as were two of their children. Vivianne was too late to save the other, but she ran in front of the last child and begged, begged Father to spare them the way he had spared her from death all those years ago. He only spoke of being able to take her life as easily as he had saved it. She fought until she could fight no longer. Then Vivianne sobbed, kneeling over the body of the man she had once called Father, the man who now lay in a puddle of his own blood. Blood magic, she remembered him saying to her. Powerful. Necessary. Protecting our family.

Vivianne never touched blood magic again. She rose from the ashes, abandoning the past’s pain but vowing never to forget it because she would forge a new future based on everything that they could have done differently. She dyed her hair blonde, because the brown made her think of the mother and real father she had never known. She wanted to be new, to belong to no family but the one that she created herself. She donned the title of Dahlia Coven’s sovereign because she rebuilt her coven from the ground up and preached everything Father had failed to: peace, inclusion, community, trust. They would be a true family this time, believing in one another so strongly that there would be no room for doubt and fear. And if there was doubt and fear, they would solve it as they did everything else - together. She would never be alone again, and neither would a single other witch that was welcomed into their home. Her night time dreams became far and fewer, but she could not have been more relieved or more happy. She had a real home now.

PERSONALITY

+ empathetic, tenacious, open-minded – suspicious, self-righteous, obsessive

PLAYED BY DANY. EST. She/Her.

[id-pack-archive]

Plain text

Music names | adagio. adria. adrian. adriane. allegra. aretha. ari. aria. ariah. ariane. arianthe. arietta. ariette. ariyah. arrieta. aurear. cabeletta. cade. cadena. cadence. cadentia. cadenza. canta. cantata. canto. cantrelle. capella. cappella. carmya. carol. celesta. chante. chord. chordelle. chordette. chordiene. claire. clarion. corissande. crescenette. crescenne. cresciene. demi. dolce. dolcette. dolciene. dolciette. doremi. elvis. ensemblette. enslette. fillira. forte. grace. harmonette. harmonie. harmony. harp. harper. hymm. jaren. jazz. kadenza. karcsi. karoly. key. liron. lygia. lyra. lyre. lyric. lyrica. lyrical. lyricia. lyrika. madrigal. major. mavelle. mavis. medley. meliene. melodia. melodie. melodiette. melody. muse. musette. musine. nocturne. note. notesie. notesy. octavia. odelet. odelina. odeline. odelle. orchestrae. orchestraette. orchestraine. ottava. phillira. philomella. philyra. piper. ramone. reed. reena. rhapsody. rhythm. riff. rina. ronen. serana. shirina. sonata. sonatina. sonatta. sonette. song. songbird. songette. songstress. sonia. sonnet. stanza. symphonia. symponiette. tamber. treble. viola. violette. violiene.

Pronouns | acoustic/acoustic. alto/alto. bari/bari. bass/bas. beat/beat. blue/blue. bop/bop. brass/bras. caro/caro. chord/chord. cla/classical. clef/clef. coda/coda. con/certo. contin/uo. contra/alto. contralto/coda. cou/rante. count/country. dirge/dirge. disc/disc. doe/dor/doremi. dub/step. duet/duet. duo/duo. elec/electronic. en/core. euph/euphonium. flu/flute. folk/folk. for/forte. forte/forte. fugue/fugue. ga/votte. har/harp. hip/hop/hiphop. hymn/hymn. ind/indie instru/instrument. ja/jazz. jam/jam. ke/key. key/key. la/lala. listen/listen. ly/lyric, lyr/lyric. lyric/lyric. mel/melo/melody. mello/mellohi. melo/maniac. melody/melody. metal//metal. metro/nome. mezzo/mezzo. mic/mic. min/uet. mor/endo. morendo/morendo. mp3/mp3. mu/muse. mu/muse/music. mu/music. muse/muse. musi/music. music/music. noc/turne. noe/note. note/note. oct/octave. ode/ode. operetta/operetta. ora/torio. oue/vre. over/ture. paean/paean. percussion/percussion. pi/piano. pia/piano. pitch/pitch. play/play. punk/punk. quartet/quartet. radio/radio. rap/rap. re/prise. reprise/reprise. requiem/requiem. rhy/rhythm. rhythm/rhythm. ro/co. rock/rock. rococo/rococo. rondo/rondo. sere/nade. sing/sing. sing/song. ska/ska. so/nata. soe/song. soe/sonnet. sol/sola. solo/solo. song/song. soprano/soprano. soul/soul. string/string. strum/strum. strum/treble. symph/phony. symphony/symphony. synth/synth. tempo/tempo. tenor/tenor. timbre/timbre. tone/tone. tre/treble. treble/treble. trill/trill. trio/trio. tu/tune. tune/tune. vi/vio/violin. voca/loid/vocaloid. voca/voca. voca/vocal. vocode/vocode. voi/voice. waltz/waltz. wave/table. wave/wave. wood/wing.

MUSIC NAMES ⌇　adagio.　adria.　adrian.　adriane.　allegra.　aretha.　ari.　aria.　ariah.　ariane.　arianthe.　arietta.　ariette.　ariyah.　arrieta.　aurear.　cabeletta.　cade.　cadena.　cadence.　cadentia.　cadenza.　canta.　cantata.　canto.　cantrelle.　capella.　cappella.　carmya.　carol.　celesta.　chante.　chord.　chordelle.　chordette.　chordiene.　claire.　clarion.　corissande.　crescenette.　crescenne.　cresciene.　demi.　dolce.　dolcette.　dolciene.　dolciette.　doremi.　elvis.　ensemblette.　enslette.　fillira.　forte.　grace.　harmonette.　harmonie.　harmony.　harp.　harper.　hymm.　jaren.　jazz.　kadenza.　karcsi.　karoly.　key.　liron.　lygia.　lyra.　lyre.　lyric.　lyrica.　lyrical.　lyricia.　lyrika.　madrigal.　major.　mavelle.　mavis.　medley.　meliene.　melodia.　melodie.　melodiette.　melody.　muse.　musette.　musine.　nocturne.　note.　notesie.　notesy.　octavia.　odelet.　odelina.　odeline.　odelle.　orchestrae.　orchestraette.　orchestraine.　ottava.　phillira.　philomella.　philyra.　piper.　ramone.　reed.　reena.　rhapsody.　rhythm.　riff.　rina.　ronen.　serana.　shirina.　sonata.　sonatina.　sonatta.　sonette.　song.　songbird.　songette.　songstress.　sonia.　sonnet.　stanza.　symphonia.　symponiette.　tamber.　treble.　viola.　violette.　violiene.

PRONOUNS ⌇　acoustic/acoustic.　alto/alto.　bari/bari.　bass/bas.　beat/beat.　blue/blue.　bop/bop.　brass/bras.　caro/caro.　chord/chord.　cla/classical.　clef/clef.　coda/coda.　con/certo.　contin/uo.　contra/alto.　contralto/coda.　cou/rante.　count/country.　dirge/dirge.　disc/disc.　doe/dor/doremi.　dub/step.　duet/duet.　duo/duo.　elec/electronic.　en/core.　euph/euphonium.　flu/flute.　folk/folk.　for/forte.　forte/forte.　fugue/fugue.　ga/votte.　har/harp.　hip/hop/hiphop.　hymn/hymn.　ind/indie instru/instrument.　ja/jazz.　jam/jam.　ke/key.　key/key.　la/lala.　listen/listen.　ly/lyric, lyr/lyric.　lyric/lyric.　mel/melo/melody.　mello/mellohi.　melo/maniac.　melody/melody.　metal//metal.　metro/nome.　mezzo/mezzo.　mic/mic.　min/uet.　mor/endo.　morendo/morendo.��mp3/mp3.　mu/muse.　mu/muse/music.　mu/music.　muse/muse.　musi/music.　music/music.　noc/turne.　noe/note.　note/note.　oct/octave.　ode/ode.　operetta/operetta.　ora/torio.　oue/vre.　over/ture.　paean/paean.　percussion/percussion.　pi/piano.　pia/piano.　pitch/pitch.　play/play.　punk/punk.　quartet/quartet.　radio/radio.　rap/rap.　re/prise.　reprise/reprise.　requiem/requiem.　rhy/rhythm.　rhythm/rhythm.　ro/co.　rock/rock.　rococo/rococo.　rondo/rondo.　sere/nade.　sing/sing.　sing/song.　ska/ska.　so/nata.　soe/song.　soe/sonnet.　sol/sola.　solo/solo.　song/song.　soprano/soprano.　soul/soul.　string/string.　strum/strum.　strum/treble.　symph/phony.　symphony/symphony.　synth/synth.　tempo/tempo.　tenor/tenor.　timbre/timbre.　tone/tone.　tre/treble.　treble/treble.　trill/trill.　trio/trio.　tu/tune.　tune/tune.　vi/vio/violin.　voca/loid/vocaloid.　voca/voca.　voca/vocal.　vocode/vocode.　voi/voice.　waltz/waltz.　wave/table.　wave/wave.　wood/wing.

[otherworldly-realms]

Could you just imagine waking up to the sounds of best friends cheering each other on?

Tim, Rohan and Jake, chanting simultaneously: Lads! Lads! Lads! Lads!

MC: *chugging down a carton of milk*

Rohan: Oh my days, she’s doing it! She’s doing it!

Jake: If she passes out…

Tim: GO, GO, GO, BRING THE VILLA DOWN!

MC, slams the empty milk carton down: LADS LADS LADS LADS

Tim and Rohan: Pool dunk! Pool dunk!

MC: Chest bump! Chest bump!

Jake: Easy, easy.

Jen: Aw guys, this is sweet and all but it's 5 a.m.

Allegra: Shut the fuck up.

Talia: So that's where the milk disappears to.

Miles: I hate cereal without milk.

Mason: Just use orange juice, that's what I've been doing.

Levi: Horrendous.

[cassava-49]

Death 5

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 6/ Part 7

"G-guys," Allegra called as she pointed at the figure from afar. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked worriedly. This made them all go to the windows as Felix's eyes widened in shock. "That's a Geryon," he said in a breathy voice. "A what?" Kenya asked not understanding what he meant. "Look at the structure, it has humongous feathery bat like wings and scorpion's tail. I have only seen pictures of it depicted in the Divine Comedy, but I never imagined Hawkmoth giving someone such abilities to do so," he explained. Marinette, however, was shell shocked as she recognized its rider. "Lila," she said in a hushed tone as she began backing away. Noticing her reaction, Felix knew who the intended target was.

"Everyone, we need to do something," Felix said getting their attention. "What do you mean?" Lindalee asked in concern. "The villain's target is Marinette, and from the looks of it, she wants her dead. We need to protect her," he continued as he took Marinette's trembling hand in his trying to calm her down. "No, it's not only me," Marinette said in a low voice. "From the looks of it, she'll kill anyone in her path. We need to protect everyone in this hospital," she stated in a more powerful voice. "Alright, what do we do?" Claude asked with all seriousness, willing to protect his friend from such fiend.

...

"Stupid Grim," Allan mumbled to himself as he continued destroying the tree in front of him. "Why couldn't you take me away! I want to go home! I want to live in peace already, damn it!" he continued shouting. "What am I going to wait for? When Earth becomes hell?" he sarcastically asked as the ground shook. He then saw a shadow loom over him and the tree. He slowly turned to find three slobbering heads of a vicious dog with an undefinable breed looking at him with hunger in its eyes.

He immediately jumped onto its heads to avoid their jaws as he narrowly escaped. For some reason Cerberus could see him, and it could've bit him. He could feel it's warm breath, which was strange given that he's dead. "What the hell?" he asked to himself as he jumped onto the top of the nearest building to observe what was happening to Paris. It seemed as if hell needed more space and transferred some of its residents to France. To his right he could see that the colour of the Seine turned to blood, with Charon was cruising with some petrified people, while centaurs were at the banks, prepared to shoot anyone who wishes to escape. To his left he could see the akumatized victim stalking it's prey.

"You can't hide from me forever Alya!" the akumatized victim cried. He looked at her and observed. "Come on out. I'd hate for you to be the last, that's Marinette's place," she continued. "There you are," she stated as she made Alecto lift the car that was blocking her vision. "Lady Luck and Monsieur Noir will stop you," Alya declared as she said her punishment. This made Castigare cackle saying, "Oh, I doubt that Alya. No one can, Kim or should I call Monkey King, and Alix are currently having a blood bath battle for their wrathful attitudes. Rose, Juleka, Nathanael and Marc are enjoying their rain fire for being homosexuals. And Max, poor Pegasus, he lost Markov and is currently burning in his tomb. Mylène and Ivan on the other hand, such pure souls, yet were gullible nonetheless to chase sinful opportunities, they're currently experiencing a blind race over an every shifting flag on a ground of maggots," Castigare informed with a sinister grin. This made Alya's eyes prick with tears as she awaited her punishment. "But for Marinette, oh she'll suffer. After my furies tear her limb from limb mercilessly. And her screams are silent, for she is asleep, for now," she added menacingly.

This caught his attention, Marinette? Why would she want Marinette? Unless, he thought realising who this girl was. "Lila Rossi," he muttered under his breath as he made his way into François Dupont to find Lady Luck and Monsieur Noir struggling to keep the she-wolf at bay.

The two continued to fight off the three beasts forgetting the easiest escape, taking a different route. Allan sighed at their attempts to fend them off. Given that these creatures can see the dead, he might as well distract them to give the two an escape to save his friends. He picked up a discarded book and threw it their way. This caught the beasts' attention as the three of them began to corner him. He stood his ground as he watched Lady Luck and Monsieur Noir escape to hunt Castigare down. He smirked as he said, "Well then, let's see if your dead bodies could make a difference."

...

Allegra and Marinette stood inside her room, carefully monitoring her body to make sure no creature would enter. Lindalee and Kenya were monitoring the hallways near Marinette's room, given that they're the second most skillful comatose ghosts in their group. Felix and Claude, on the other hand, were in the frontlines, waiting for the villain's arrival.

"I'm sorry," Marinette blurted out. Allegra immediately rushed to her and engulfed her in a hug. "There's nothing to be sorry about," Allegra assured. "But because of my vulnerable body, it's making all of you worked up in protecting me," Marinette said guilty. "Well, we can't help it can we. It's natural to not want help from those around you, thinking that it makes us feel like more of a nuisance. But we are doing this because we want to keep you safe, because we know that you would do the same for us. You're our friend, we're not going to let anyone harm you. Chin up, darling, everything will be alright. Don't freight," Allegra soothed.

"This would be a lot easier if Allan were here," Claude commented as they watched Lila get closer. "Well, he's never at the right place at the right time," Felix answered. "Let's just make sure that there wouldn't be any casualties. There are a lot of vulnerable people in hospitals," Claude mentioned. "Yeah, we just slow her down until the heroes arrive," Felix replied. With that Castigare jumped off Geryon and waltzed into the entrance.

The nurses gave her an annoyed look as she shouted, "Which room is Marinette Dupain?" The security guard immediately tried to remove her from the building, only to have his actions in vain as Castigare summoned her furies and pointed them to him. This meant for them to take action as they took him away. Castigare approached the front desk to ask the nurse again, the drawers began to vibrate making everyone to look around. The first thing that they used were the vials. Using their enhanced speed, Claude began throwing the glad from different directions. Felix took a couple of surgical needles and aimed it at her, with one was full of general anesthesia.

"What is happening?" Castigare asked as she was being attacked by office and medical supply. "Is this a new miraculous?" she began to ponder aloud. She clenched her teeth, she didn't have time for this. She immediately summoned her Cerberus to find Marinette.

The three headed dog complied and barged into the hospital and began looking for Marinette's room. Upon nearing the hallway to her room, Kenya and Lindalee immediately destroyed the floors, making sure no one was at the floor below them. This did not stop Cerberus though, as he began to fall, he was able to snatch onto Kenya's shirt. It's claws digging deep into her skin, piercing it to the rib cage and damaging her lungs causing the young girl to release an ear piercing scream. "Kenya!" Lindalee shouted as she tried to grab her friend.

Their wandering souls are a lot like Voodoo dolls, any damage they get may affect their actual bodies. Right now, Kenya's body is not receiving enough oxygen. Her heart began to speed up rapidly, causing the nurses and doctors to panic as they try to revive her. Kenya's soul, however, was slowly feeling lighter and lighter. Lindalee jumped down as she tried to look for her friend beneath the debris. "Kenya! Kenya!" she continued to call out. Once she got to one of its paws, she immediately raised it to find Kenya there. She's not bleeding, since she's a ghost, but she was slowly fading. There may be two meanings, either she's waking up or, she's dying. Lindalee placed both her hands on her mouth in shock.

"Did you hear that?" Marinette asked. Allegra nodded as she opened the door to find the destroyed hallway. "Where are Lindalee and Kenya?" Allegra pondered out loud. "Allegra," cried a voice from below. "Lindalee? Where are you?" she asked with concern. "Down here, help me, no, help Kenya, please," Lindalee pleaded, her voice getting softer. "Marinette, I think they're in trouble. I'll be right back," Allegra said as Marinette nodded. "Go, I'll be fine. Keep them safe," Marinette answered.

Once Allegra left, Marinette felt another pit of guilt in her stomach. Please be safe, please be safe, she chanted to herself. Hoping that all her friends were alright. She looked at her body, she looked at peace, her breathing was normal so was her heart rate. She looked out of the window and saw that the blue sky turned into a blood red shade as monsters polluted the sky. People were given different sufferings depending on their heaviest sin. She could see limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, anger, heresy, violence and fraud. Paris turned into a living hell and Lila's destroying it all.

...

"Cerberus?" Castigare tried to call out as she began dodging all the things that came her way. "Damnit, where are you?" she tried again. Realising that the dog will not be coming anytime soon signified that it has failed her. "Geryon," she shouted as the monster came crashing through, protecting her from all the destruction coming her way. With that, she allowed it to block the passage as she stalked her way to Marinette's room.

"She's heading their way," Claude called. "I've got it, don't worry," Allan said as he entered. This made the trip boys smile at their friend's arrival. "What? You didn't think that is let you guys have all the fun. This could be a better way at venting, no holding back," Allan joked as he cracked his knuckles. "Go crazy," Claude supported. "We'll be outside her room to make sure nothing goes that way," Felix said as they nodded at each other and began.

"Hey, ugly!" Allan tautened as Geryon turned to face him. "What are you doing!" Castigare scolded. "There's no one there! Let's get a move on!" she raged as she tried to steer him to Marinette's room. "I see you can't resist the souls of the dead," Allan continued. "Why are you still here? Have you not found your way to the afterlife?" Geryon asked seriously. "Well, let's just say that some souls aren't meant to cross, yet," he answered casually. "Come along, I will take you King Minos for your judgement," Geryon ordered. "Wait, wait, who said that I'm meant for hell," Allan replied. "Knock it off!" Castigare demanded as she smacked it's head with her sceptre to behave. Being a demon, he shook her off as he began chasing Allan around for his judgement saying, "All souls must cross over. No soul must be left wandering the world of the living!" Allan laughed as they began the chase and continued taunting him, "Not this soul. You have to be quicker if you want to catch me."

"Come back you useless monster!" Castigare shouted, feeling slightly embarrassed by being thrown off. "Listen Castigare, you're no longer holding your end of the bargain. Hand me the miraculouses or else I'll take your power away," Hawkmoth reminded. "Shut up, Hawkmoth. You will need me so by taking my akuma away you'll lose your closest ally," Castigare threatened back. This earned an evil laugh from Hawkmoth. "Oh, really now. Don't think that your irreplaceable my dear. If I recall correctly, even if I take your akuma away there's still a chance that you will be deported and your parents will know about everything. You would be trialed for terrorism, even though your a minor, you willingly allowed yourself to get akumatized multiple times. I can even vouch on that, don't forget hospitals have cameras. Don't think that I don't know about what you had don't to your victim, Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he slapped the truth in her face menacingly. This made her grit her teeth at the truth that Hawkmoth slapped in her face. "Shut up! Shut up!" she cried out as she held her head trying to block him out. "Never bite the hand that feeds you," he mumbled to both of them as he began threatening the removal of her powers, but unlike Evillustrator, this one's more painful. This made her screech in pain as she felt her whole body on fire. "Alright, alright, I'll get the miraculouses," she conceded. "Good girl, now you'll hold up your end of the deal. Use your new found powers for both yours and my desire," he said as he stopped her suffering.

[butwhatifyouwrite]

Molly’s Redemption Chapter 14

Masterlist is here.

cw:  pain, intimate whumper, kidnapping, attempted escape, failed escape, emesis, broken hand, very brief and vague field medicine in the context of tending to wounds, very brief physical violence.

As always if I have missed something please let me know!

Tag list; @whump-tr0pes @whatwhumpcomments @whumpsblog

If anyone would like to be added to or removed from a tag list please just let me know!

Chapter 14: Try to Run

The guard had come in at some point, although how much time had actually passed was a mystery. He had taken his time, almost gently caring for Molly’s wounds. Cleaning. Bandaging. Molly was barely conscious as he worked, hissing in breath occasionally at the sting of antiseptic or the ache of pressure on fresh wounds, then lulling back into a state just between the world of the conscious and living and the dead. Any attempt to lift her head sent a wave of dizziness over Molly that threatened to drown her alive.

The guard didn’t talk as he worked, giving Molly peace. Peace that only existed in the silence. He finished tending to Molly and untied her hands, setting a bottle of water and some food on the floor next to her before grabbing the rest of his supplies and leaving just as quietly as he had come. The door clicked closed softly and Molly is every so faintly aware of his footsteps echoing down the hall, then fading back into silence.

Slowly Molly drifts back to herself. Pain pounds down as she returns to her senses, and threatens to drag her under again. Something nags at her mind floating at the edge of her awareness. 

Finally her thoughts begin to come more clearly again and she is able to lift her head. She tries to straighten some, wincing as it pulls on the marks on her back.  Slowly she leans down and grabs the water in one hand, licking at chapped lips as she works to get the bottle open, then raises it to her lips, letting the cool water wash down her throat slowly. Slow sip after slow sip she drains the bottle, letting it drop to the floor she pauses for a brief second and then reaches for the food. 

It’s simple, just a sandwich and a granola bar but her stomach grumbles. She has no idea how long it has been since she has had something to eat and she scarfs the sandwich down quickly then does the same with the granola bar. Damn, it might have been a good idea to save some of that water. 

She sits for a time, rolling her wrists and stretching lightly, trying to find a position that does not provoke pain. A thought solidifies in her brain as it whirls through thoughts and memories. I have to get out of here. Elliot may know I’m alive but he has no clue where I am. I have to get out of here. 

Her eyes dart to the door, expecting Allegra to come marching through it at any moment as if summoned by her thoughts of escape. She sits as still as possible for a moment, listening for any sounds outside the door. Footsteps, voices, anything that might tell her Allegra is back. All she hears is her own heart beating in the silence of the room. Molly reaches down slowly to begin working on the knots still tying her to the chair. She winces again, each movement sends pain sparking through her body like fireworks in a Fourth of July sky. Suck it up. You have to get out of here. 

Molly’s eyes dart back and forth from her fingers which are frantically scrabbling at the expertly tied knots to the door, praying to a god she stopped believing in years ago that no one comes through the door. One rope falls loose and she shifts to work on the next one, groaning as she slowly stretches a knee that has been bent for hours.  Another few moments in which she hardly dares to breathe and the rope around her other leg falls free. 

She stretches that leg as well before trusting her legs to hold her. Slowly she pushes herself to a standing position. The room spins around her and she grabs the back of the chair to steady herself. Pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, only too aware of each second ticking by. With each breath she is seconds closer to Allegra coming back and discovering her. She pushes another slow breath out between pursed lips, willing herself to steady. Willing the room to stop spinning. I have to get out of here. I have to. Finally the room comes back into focus. Nausea hits and she doubles over the chair, vomiting up her recent meal. Dammit I really should have saved some of that water.

Molly stays there for a moment, letting the nausea pass. When it finally does she straightens up slowly, her nose curling at the smell and sour taste in her mouth. She takes small hesitant steps towards the door, trying to make her footsteps as quiet as possible and willing the world around her to stay still. Finally, she reaches the door, grabbing quietly for the handle. She tries the door, turning the handle slowly and lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when the door handle turns freely and quietly in her hand. The thought that had been floating at the edges of her mind earlier comes back to her now. He didn’t lock the door.

She pulls the door open the tiniest amount, then pauses to listen, peering through the tiny crack in the door. Precious seconds tick by and her heart speeds up in her chest. There is no one outside the door and she can’t hear anyone beyond that. She pushes the door open slowly until it is open just enough for her to slip out. Once she is in the hall she closes the door as quietly as possible and looks around. She is standing in a hallway lit by fluorescent lights with a door on either end. She pauses for a moment. Which way? Which way? Which way? I have to get out of here. Her thoughts chase each other, tumbling clumsily in her brain, making decisions difficult.

Molly makes a decision and heads towards the door on the right. Moving hurts and any movement that is even slightly too fast makes the world start to spin again. Words pound through her foggy brain like a chant, or a chorus. I have to get out of here.

Cautiously she makes her way to the door and opens it. The hinges squeak slightly and she winces at the sound, nearly dropping the door. She slides through and finds herself in a large open room. It may once have been a large warehouse. Now, it’s cold and empty with no where to hide. She shrinks back agains the door as much as she can, and looks around taking in her surroundings. On the opposite side of the large empty room is a door. Above it, and barely visible is a long burnt out exit sign. A rush of emotion floods through her and for the first time she lets herself hope. I’m gonna get out of here. Molly glances around one more time, making sure her surrounding are clear. She takes a deep breath, and begins to make her way towards the door that promises her freedom.

Fifty feet… then thirty… then twenty… then ten. She swears she can see sunlight under the door, eyes focused on her target. I’m gonna get out of here.

She doesn’t even have time to process the sound of approaching footsteps behind her before she feels a cold hand grab her shoulder and she is spun around roughly. A hand connects with her face, whipping her head sideways and knocking her off balance. Another blow sends her sprawling on her back. She reaches a hand out to steady herself, to try and push herself back to her feet. A high heeled boot comes down hard on her hand and she cries out. Her cry is cut off by a hand in her hair and a hand around her throat.

“Now darling, where exactly do you think you’re going?” Allegra croons, eye shards of ice peering down between long lashes. “You should know better than to try to run.”

[morelikeravenbore]

screaming externally and internally

Ominis and his troublesome girl 🫶

[dandelionflower]

Felinette where after 10 years the school reunion happens but Mari and Felix are at the hospital since Mari is giving birth. At the reunion Lila tries her lies about Mari but the birth of Mari and Felix's kid is going live since Mari is a famous designer and Felix is her model.

[send me Felinette prompts/requests]

“Hey, girl!” Alya hugged Lila, grinning bright. “Guess who got herself an interview with Jagged Stone’s son last week?”

“You mean Shatter?” Lila smiled at her, voice softening like when a mother consoles a child. “He’s such a sweetie, isn’t he?”

“It’s Shawn, but yeah.” Alya grinned at the memory.

The wedding between Penny Rolling and Jagged Stone has happened when they were all just fourteen, and Shawn was born that next year.

The year Lila told them about her lies.

She admitted that she had lied about her trips, her connections, and being Ladybug’s friend. The only truth was knowing Jagged Stone, but that was because he was her godfather, not because she saved his kitten.

She was bawling on the floor, begging for forgiveness that the class surely gave.

Alya was twenty-nine now, and her journalistic pursuits were thriving, just like everyone else.

Rose had become a highly esteemed business woman, and Juleka was modeling so much, you couldn’t look at a magazine kiosk without seeing her face.

Ivan was a well-paid bodyguard for Mylene, who had gained fame by protesting all sorts of environmental atrocities. They had broken up after they had turned seventeen, but rumor had it that those old bonds were slowly repairing themselves.

Alix had become a famous rollerblader, breaking a record for fastest cross country time and took up ice skating; she was going to the next Olympic Games.

Kim was now the most wanted stuntmen in the world, for his lack of fear and uncanny ability to not die from heights.

Nathaniel and Marc parted ways as they went to different colleges, but were still in contact. Nathaniel often called Marc when the storyline for his comic book seemed a bit off and Marc would gladly tell him that the author was just being an idiot.

Max and Sabrina, amazingly enough, got married; they completed their medical doctorates together and, once they made enough money, went back to college to get degrees in technology and math for Max and philosophy and psychology for Sabrina.

Together, they found the cure for cancer and Sabrina ended up writing a bestselling self-help novel, Henchman: just one good friend isn’t always enough. Max had patented his AI technology and Markov got his own talk show.

Adrien was working with Child Protective Services and other organizations to help children in bad situations. His father’s company took a massive tank after Hawkmoth’s reveal and Adrien did nothing to keep it afloat.

Chloe took up acting. She was well known for her amazing performances of evil queens, heinous witches, terrifying stepmothers. She, of course, took it all in stride.

No one really knew what Lila or Marinette were up to, finding out was probably the reason most of them were here.

And Nino...

Nino was living life happily as a popular song composer with his daughter Harley, the daughter Alya missed with every passing day.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t time to dwell on recent events, now was a time to look back at the past and reminisce.

“Have you seen Marinette? I’ve been wondering what she’s been up to these past ten years.” Alya commented, barely noticing Lila stiffen up. “You too. I gave you my number for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, but I lost my phone in the trenches and you know how bad my memory is.” She laughed, batting her hand in the air.

“Yeah, I do. So tell me now; what about trenches?”

“I’ve been doing some peace talks, you know, nothing big.”

“Like Mylene was?”

“...yeah, like that. Just on a slightly larger scale.”

“Larger than stopping the Third World War? Dang girl.”

“I’ve also been doing some acting in foreign films and donating my extra time to children in need.”

“Like Chloe, Kim, and Adrien!”

Her eye twitched. “So, is Marinette coming, or is she...”

“She’s definitely coming. She wouldn’t miss a class reunion for the world.”

“Are you sure, because I saw her not too long ago today and she didn’t seem to prepared.”

“She’s coming.” Alya spoke firmly.

“Hi Alya! Hi Lila!” Rose jumped in and hugged them both tightly. “Have either of you seen Mari? I need to give her congratulations.”

“Congratulations? For what?”

“She got married a while back! I was really busy though, so I wasn’t able to go to the wedding. Her number changed too so I couldn’t call her either.”

Alya frowned. She hadn’t gotten any invitation.

“She got married?” Lila gasped. “But who was that man she was kissing in the coffee shop?”

“That was probably him; I don’t know him well, but I remember him being blond.” Rose grinned.

“Are you sure? He seemed pretty red headed when I saw them.” She pressed her hands to her face. “You don’t think...”

“Lila, come on. Mari wouldn’t cheat on her husband.”

“Yeah... we’ll just talk to her when she gets here.” Lila agreed. “If she gets here in time.”

“She will.” Alya nodded, reassuring Lila with a smile.

For some reason, she didn’t seem too certain.

—

Hours passed and everyone had given a speech on the stage, all but one.

“Where could she be?” Alya hissed to herself, texting Marinette again and again only to get a message declaring her number inactive.

“Maybe she’s just not-“ Lila was cut off when Alya held up her hand.

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

The sound of feedback filled the room and every head turned towards the stage, where Miss Bustier was standing.

She looked almost the same, with her red hair in a bun and her crisp pale blue pantsuit. The signs of time were still there, though, in the wrinkles around her eyes and the sparkling grey at her roots.

“Hello class!” She paused and listened to them cheer. “We’ve heard all of your accounts of your school years, and now it’s time for your class president to have a word.”

Chatter filled the air, each person turning to look for the blurnette.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see her!” Rose squealed to Juleka. “I need to get her new number.”

Juleka glanced sideways at her. “She’s been texting me for months.”

“What?” Rose scrolled through her phone and stopped. “Oh! Here it is! My phone is set to block unknown numbers.” She clicked a button and grinned as she made a new contact for her, with lots of emojis.

“Where’s Marinette?” Someone yelled. “Shouldn’t she be here?”

“I’m afraid Marinette had some prior engagements.” Miss Bustier clicked a pointer to a projector. “But, luckily, we are able to see exactly what it is.”

Light funneled out of the projector and the class was treated to what looked like a home movie.

It was in a hospital, but one boys face overtook the screen. He had on a blue striped shirt and a cheeky smile.

“Hey ma peeps! For those of you just joining us, I’m Claude...”

Another boy popped up in a green beret. “And I’m Mercury.”

“...and this is the livestream of the birth of a demigod!”

Sabrina and Max rose their fists and started chanting, “Elise! Elise! Elise!”

Ivan and Mylene glared at them playfully and started their own chant. “Dean! Dean! Dean!”

“What are they talking about?” Alya whispered to Rose.

“Didn’t you know? I just found out, it’s-“ she was cut off by a familiar voice coming from the speakers.

“Claude, I swear, if you don’t turn off that camera right now...”

The camera panned to a blue haired woman lying in a bed, a platinum blond man by her side.

“Sorry, Madame Culpa-Dupain-Cheng,” he laughed as Alya gasped inside the gymnasium, “you’re bedridden, so I’m not afraid of you.”

“Felix is still here.” She pointed out, leveling a finger at the camera. “Felix, get ‘im.”

The blond looked somewhere behind the camera’s field of view and made to move, but stopped as Marinette shouted out in pain.

“Felix,” she panted, after the screaming ceased, “I just want you to know that I love you, but I am never doing this again.” She looked up at him and received an amused grin.

“Fine by me.” He kissed her temple and Claude spoke again.

“You heard it here first folks! The legendary child, the only of its kind!”

She glared at him again. “Felix, if you don’t mind.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He began rolling up his sleeves and began walking towards Claude with a brisk pace.

“Uh, Claude?” Mercury, spoke with a nervous lilt to his voice.

“Well, that’s our live secret look into the birth of the legendary child of famous designer Marinette Culpa-Dupain-Chang and her photographer Felix Culpa-Dupain-Cheng!” Claude opened the door and hurried out. “Comment below on what you think the gender of the legend child will be and what the parents should name them; Claude Junior...”

“Or Mercury Junior!”

“Or the great Allegra the second?”

“Guys?” Adrien stood up from where he was sitting next to a blonde woman in a braid and a darker haired woman. “Is everything okay in there?”

“In there, fine, but out here?”

“There is a man on a mission behind us and that mission includes the removal of our tongues.”

“Better keep running, then.” The dark haired girl shouted, not even glancing up from her phone.

“Indeed.” Felix’s voice came from close behind the camera.

Both Claude and Mercury shrieked and began running down the hall once more, the other girl beside Adrien laughing while shouting, “Get ‘em good Felix!”

Alya stood stock-still, staring at the black screen.

Marinette is having a baby.

Adrien and four strangers are there for it.

She got married.

I didn’t know about it.

Lila said she saw Marinette today when she’s clearly been in the hospital all day, and is obviously in love with that Felix guy.

Suddenly, the fact that no one else but Rose, the sweetest person in class, had been talking to Lila was making a whole lot more sense.

@virgil-is-a-cutie

[2sunchild2]

The Remnants

Guess the show lol

Lowkey not v happy w/ it but I wanted to post something

Long ago, in a time long forgotten by mankind, magic ruled over all. Witches and wizards were seeing aiding and cursing people. Giants roamed the lands. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls alike, haunted the night. Humans themselves were gifted with the supernatural power. But only four weld the most powerful magic of them all.

Blessed by the gods, four maidens were given a specific power, each one corresponding to a season of the year. Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Many seemed them out, to use and manipulate for their own selfish needs. They managed to kidnap one of the maidens, unaware of the chaos that soon followed. Pain and destruction washed over the world. Death loomed over every kingdom, house and family.

Upon seeing the destruction caused by the four maidens, the humans decided their magic was too strong and powerful to be contained. They had found and killed off the other three in hopes that it would rid the world of their power.

The gods were furious when the humans presented the corpses of their blessed chosens, they cursed mankind, stripping them from their magical abilities, and they promised, the four maidens’ magic will live on, impossible to erase, merely transferred from one woman to another.

The humans, upset by this turn of events, began opposing the gods in every possible way, which only angered the deities more. They wiped the world clean of living beings, disgusted by their creations and, in a beam of divine light, they left the depressing planet, leaving nothing but two moons, one of which had begun to break apart.

We are the remnants of what once was, of what will never be.

——————————————————————

Punch.

Punch punch.

“You know, you should really wrap your hands, this isn’t healthy,” Chloe leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms, “You could seriously get hurt.”

Punch.

Punch punch.

“Oh, so we’re in a ‘Shut up Chloe I don’t feel like talking to you’ mood today?”

Punch.

Chloe tilted her head sideways and hummed, “Hmmm, I wonder what Kagami will say when she sees you punching the life out of that bag with your bare hands.”

The punching stopped. Marinette let her hands rest at her sides and took deep breaths, in a desperate attempt to regulate her breathing again. How long had she been in the gym? One look at her bruised hands and she knew the answer. Too long.

“What is it Chloe,” she asked the blonde, not bothering to look back as she grabbed her bottle and slowly drank the cool water, enjoying the feeling of it going down her throat.

Chloe sobered up and walked over to the blue-haired girl, grabbing the medical kit on her way. She sat Marinette down and began to gently work on her bruised hands. She could feel her teammate’s impassive gaze.

Chloe took a deep breath, “Fu called,” she watched her friend’s other hand twitch, “he said he’s expecting us to report on what’s happening with the winter maiden… and if she’s being targeted,” she put the now bandaged hand down and began working on the other one, “he wants us to meet with him at Dupont.”

“Is Kagami aware of this?” Her friend asked, checking the bandages on her hands. Chloe gave a nod in reply. Marinette got up and stretched her arms out, “well then, it seems Dupont is getting a visit from a few old students.”

————————————————

“Agreste,” the blonde man turned around to see his general at the door, “Are you aware of the stop we have to make at Valentino?”

Felix nodded, “The kingdom of Love is harboring the winter maiden, is that correct?”

His General nodded firmly, “You and I will be escorted to Dupont to discuss this matter with Master Fu,” at the sight of Felix’s scowl, the general continued, “he’s a respectable man, Felix, he knows what he’s doing. I’m willing to give you an hour to pack before we depart.”

“Yes, father,” Felix whispered to himself father the general left. He looked out his window, to see the breathtaking view of the snowy kingdom of Arise. He sighed and left to pack his bags, at least he will be reunited with his brother, even if it were for a brief moment.

——————————————

Adrien had been chatting with Bridgette when it happened. They were walking along the courtyard when he noticed Arise ships landing at the port of the school. He stopped talking and stared at the ship, seeing the drone-soldiers march out while being led by the general, though he was only hoping to see one face.

“Felix!”

He grabbed Bridgette by the arm and began racing towards the stiff blonde who just exited the ship, chanting his name over and over again. Saying Bridgette was confused would’ve been the understatement of the century. Who is this man? And why does Adrien know him?

They slowed down as they neared the man, “Felix!” The blonde boy yelled again, causing the other to turn his way. Adrien walked up to him, smiling like he’s been offered all the presents a fifteen-year-old boy could ask for.

“Adrien,” the man replied with a nod, “how have you been?”

Adrien beamed, “Well, I’m at the top of my class in monster theory, I’m in the top five ranks for—”

“No you dolt,” Felix whacked the boy upside his head, “I asked how you’re doing, not what ranking you are. Are you eating well? Are you getting enough sleep?” Felix led the boy towards the school entrance, questioning his brother in his well-being, if he’s enjoying his classes and if he’s made any friends.

Adrien smiled and gestured to Bridgette, who had been silently following them, “This is Bridgette! She’s the team leader!”

Bridgette jumped and tried to address the older man formally, “I… uhh…” she curtsied clumsily, almost falling over, “merry— uhhh, very! Nice to make… your… acquaintance? Sir?”

Felix raised a brow at the girl, “This is the famed leader of team Miraculous?” Bridgette sweat dropped.

“That was my aunt… uhhh, we’re team Prodigious,” Bridgette answered hesitantly. Bridgette glanced over to see Allegra waving are her and muttered a quick “excuse me” before leaving. Felix merely gave her a nod and kept walking, the drones following close behind.

That is, until one of their heads were ripped off their body and thrown on the ground.

“This is what you call a high tech super soldier?” A rough feminine voice called out, causing Felix to stop in his tracks. He turned around and glared at the woman.

“Do you know you just destroyed Arise military property?” He questioned, his voice low and dangerous, “I could have you arrested.”

The woman let out a laugh and took a swig from her flask before replying, “what are you gonna do sweetheart? Sue me? A bunch of stuck up pussies.” She laughed out loud, the two other women she came with decided to let her have her fun before they attended business.

Felix glared at the blue hard woman and unsheathed his sword, “Say one more disrespectful thing about us, and I’ll cut off your tongue,” his piercing blue eyes narrowing as she flipped her hair, showing everyone the scar on her left eye.

“Make me.”

—————————————

Adrien couldn’t believe his eyes, this woman, though beautiful he had to admit, had come out of nowhere, destroyed Arise property, challenged his brother and was now dueling with him. She had pulled out a yo-yo of all things, but then she pushed a button and it became a glowing staff.

They circled around each other for a moment, waiting to see who would strike first, and all the woman had to do was smirk for Felix to lose his temper and strike.

They had been fighting for a good two minutes already, there was a crater in the courtyard and rubble littered the stone floor. She was skilled, he had to admit, but Felix had strict military training, he should be capable of winning.

Bridgette heard the sound of an explosion in the courtyard and ran back to check if Adrien was okay. She saw him at the front of the crowd and, while struggling, she pushed through to get to him.

“What’s going on?” She asked him breathless.

“Some crazy woman came here and challenged my brother! They’re dueling as we speak.”

Bridgette gave him an odd look, “really? Who’s he fighti— OH MY GOD THAT’S MY AUNT!” Adrien gave her an incredulous look and opened his mouth to reply but Bridgette, without meaning to, interrupted him, already invested in the fight, “Kick his butt Marinette!”

Adrien huffed, “Show her some respect Felix!” He wanted to support his brother, and he wanted him to win.

Marinette stood on one end of the courtyard, the opposite side to Felix, his stance was ready to pounce, he activated his aura and a dark wisp of shadows spreads from his right hand, to the rest of his body. Marinette’s smirks, but doesn’t activate her aura. She shifts her weapon to a scythe, her eyes never leaving Felix’s and then, she stops, shiftiest the weapon back to a yo-yo and placing it back on her hip, earring a disappointed boo from the crowd.

She raises her hand and beckons Felix to come closer, in a fit of rage he does, and almost strikes her with his sword before being stopped by a very stern, “Agreste!”

“But sir, she started it,” Felix argued. The general looked at his son before settling his eyes on Marinette, who simply raised her hands up in defense.

“He’s the one to struck first, sir.”

The general’s mood did not shift, “You are here for a reason Marinette, don’t waste your time on silly games,” he turned around, but stopped, “ oh and do bring your friends with you, you’re here in business with the master,” he began walking away and let out a rough, “Agreste, come.”

Marinette wanted to let out a retort but her arm was grabbed by her niece, “Aunt Mari! You’re here! You didn’t tell me your we’re going to visit! I missed you! Did you miss me?” Her face was mere millimeters away from her face, eyes wide in excitement.

Marinette let out a smile and ruffled her hair, “No.”

Bridgette laughed as she slid down her arm to the ground and looked up at her, “ Are you staying for long?”

“I’m just here on business honey,” Marinette crouched down ruffled the girl’s hair affectionately before getting back up, “ Don't get into too much trouble okay?”

————————————

“I still can’t believe you’re allowed to listen to this sort of information,” Felix hissed, not too pleased with the fact that he just fought (and technically lost) someone in the same rank as his father.

Marinette shrugged and observed herself in the elevator mirror, “Fu needs a man on the inside, we’re the best for the job.”

Before he could retort, the elevator door opened and the duo was met with the deadpan looks of Fu, Marinette’s teammates, Marianne and General Gabriel.

This looks promising, Marinette mused.

Tag list uwu: @thyladyanput @gloriafee4 @slytherinsheashire @realrandomposts

[princepestilence]

Podcasts that aren’t McElroy products:

(Shout out to @perennialsage for making me think of this!) This isn’t a slight on the McElroy family of products, of course--I’m a big fan too, and listen to The Adventure Zone and Wonderful! regularly--but when I was starting out listening to podcasts, they were all I knew and it took time to branch out and find other things I enjoyed. So! I thought I’d make a list of several non-McElroy podcasts that I enjoy a lot, in case anyone else is looking for new listening material.

The Polygon Show.

About: peripherally connected to the McElroys in that this is the official podcast of Polygon, but this podcast--while about gaming (mostly, sort of)--has Simone de Rochefort, Ashley Oh, Allegra Frank, and Chelsea Stark as hosts. Each week, they discuss what they’ve been playing/watching--and do a lot of goofing. Note: newer episodes seem to be receiving the same treatment as Polygon channel in general (more focused, less chaotic and silly than previous) but the charming personalities and thoughts are still there.

Genre: humour, pleasant personalities talking about their experiences, gaming and media. 

Length: 78 episodes currently, each episode typically 45 minutes to about an hour in length. Updates weekly.

Let’s Make a Music.

About: peripherally connected to Polygon in that this is the podcast of Brian David Gilbert (Polygon employee), his sister, and his bandmate. Each week, they create an actual song--that you get to listen to--largely out of prompts and suggestions from each other and people on twitter, often based around a word or theme. It’s funny and delightful and very clever; I’m blown away every time by what they manage to make out of total nonsense. Music is wizardry to me. 

Genre: humour, music, creativity, crowd-generated suggestions. 

Length: 41 episodes currently (unfortunately on hiatus), each episode between 15 minutes and half an hour long. 

The Hopeless Romantic.

About: a podcast about the queer romance genre--especially its tropes and its history, and the world of writing and publishing queer romance. The hosts are Amanda Jean and Austin Chant, both of whom have several years experience each in the industry and a lot of fun and interesting insights and anecdotes to share. A very casual but informative podcast that I’ve gotten a lot of enjoyment out of. (Used to listen to it mainly on trains or cooking dinner in the evening).

Genre: queer fiction and media, creativity, humour, professional development.

Length: 40 episodes (ended), each episode about an hour long. 

Faculty of Horror.

About: a podcast by horror fans (and academics), Andrea Subissati and Alexandra West, about the horror genre. Together, they dissect and discuss films, focusing on a particular theme or topic, and provide relevant readings along with every episode. Not a most favourite podcast of mine, but definitely one I’ve listened to a lot and gotten a lot out of! 

Genre: horror (please note: sometimes audio from films is used, one time I was in the bath and they played a scene from the Babadook and some of my candles went out, it was A Lot), informative, academic, film and media. 

Length: 67 episodes currently, episodes range from an hour to up to two hours in length. Updates monthly. 

Critical Role.

About: a storytelling podcast about Dungeons and Dragons, featuring a cast of professional voice actors as DM and players. Split into two campaigns, but  since I’ve only listened to the second one, I can only comment on that--and my comment is that it’s good! It’s a much more “serious” form of D&D playing than The Adventure Zone, but still with a lot of charm and comedy. I always come away from listening to it wanting to play D&D and similar myself. 

Genre: D&D, humour, storytelling, fiction. 

Length: oh boy. Two campaigns, one finished, one ongoing. Episodes can be up to four hours or so in length. Updates weekly. 

Lore.

About: a storytelling podcast about folklore, specifically the spooky, unexplained, horrific, and supernatural elements of folklore and urban legends. In each episode, Aaron Mahnke recounts a well-researched historical/folkloric event or occurrence, accompanied by beautiful, haunting music. One weekend I listened to it basically non-stop in my apartment all alone and scared myself absolutely silly. 

Genre: horror, ghost story, storytelling, history, informative. 

Length: 107 episodes currently, episodes are about half an hour each. Updates weekly.

Harry Potter and the Sacred Text.

About: pretty much the only Harry Potter related media I enjoy anymore. Not just tolerate, but actively enjoy. This podcast explores the concept of reading a text as sacred, using Harry Potter as the chosen text. Vanessa and Casper read a chapter each week through a particular frame (such as forgiveness), discuss religion and fiction and spirituality, relate through anecdotes, and generally be pleasant people with a lot of insight and hope to share.

Genre: fiction, religion, thought-provoking,  pleasant personalities talking about their experiences. 

Length: up to book five, episodes are about half an hour to 45 minutes each. Updates weekly. 

Be The Serpent.

About: a literary discussion podcast of three published authors who talk each episode about a different fascinating topic in fiction, using a few texts (novels, fanfiction, film, television series, it’s all fair game) as their central examples. They link a lot of extra reading material in the notes of every episode, and I come away every episode feeling both more intelligent and wildly envious that I didn’t create this podcast myself, because I wish I did. It’s wonderful. 

Genre: fiction and media, creativity, informative, professional development, thought-provoking, pleasant personalities talking about their experiences and work.

Length: 22 episodes currently, episodes are about an hour each. Updated fortnightly.