#and not only accepting it but finding joy in it and finding his own purpose for living inside that joy but

[lizardkingeliot]

That can’t be all there is.

[hero-the-meep]

Why is the Doctor making Donna a cup of coffee so significant?

Well, he is trying to impress her, to get her to travel with him again – like he tried to do by using the TARDIS to make it snow at Christmas the first time he asked her to travel with him.

But he got that attempt wrong. Donna doesn't like Christmas, and the Doctor having the power to make it snow "scared her to death."

A cup of coffee, just how she likes it, is (on the surface of it) a smaller gesture to show that he remembered the little details about her. A cup of coffee is what brought them together all those years ago.

But it's what Donna told the Doctor about what Lance making her that cup of coffee meant to her that the Doctor really listened to and remembered.

"I was temping. I mean, it was all a bit posh, really. I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought, I'm never going to fit in here. And then he made me a cup of coffee. I mean, that just doesn't happen. Nobody gets the secretaries a coffee. "And Lance, he's the Head of HR, he didn't need to bother with me. But he was nice, he was funny. And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So, that's how it started, me and him. One cup of coffee, and that was it."

Donna fell in love with Lance because he made her a cup of coffee. So used to being unnoticed and uncared for, something as simple as an 'important' man taking the time to make her a cup of coffee meant everything to Donna.

She thought it was a sign that he was kind, that he was nice. She thought it was a sign he noticed and cared for her.

And the Doctor sees how it devastates her to learn the real reason why he was making her coffee was to drug her for his own ends. Despite their differences, he's gentle when he breaks it to her. And it connects her to him in a shared grief.

So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee after she regains her memories, he's not just telling her that he remembers the little details about her like how she likes her coffee, but the big things too.

He's showing that he sees her, that he cares about her thoughts and feelings, that he wants to care for her after all these years when he couldn't. That he knows how important this is to her.

But that's not all.

In the alternative timeline, Donna never meets Lance. And yet, when she is upset, and afraid, she asks Rose Tyler for a cup of coffee. Steam rises from her mug as they stand around the console inside the dying TARDIS, and have the most honest conversation they've had yet about the Doctor and their feelings towards him.

In the proper timeline, the person we see Donna drinking coffee with is Wilf. In moments of joy and moments of upset they bond over coffee. Before she finds the Doctor again, Donna brings Wilf a thermos to escape Sylvia's criticisms.

Wilf is the only person in Donna's life who she can be herself around, who has unconditionally cared for her, and who she takes joy in caring for back.

Even in the alternative timeline, Wilf has held onto not only the telescope but the exact same thermos Donna brings him coffee in when he's up on the hill.

For the Doctor to remember how she takes her coffee, we know they must have had moments together like this off-screen too.

So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee, just how she likes it, he is communicating he remembers not just the small details of her but that he remembers all these things that she associates with making someone a cup of coffee – kindness, acceptance, being noticed, caring for someone and being cared for, home, and family.

It's possible, for the Doctor, there's an apology in that cup of coffee too.

But wait, there's still more.

Did Donna spill the cup of coffee on the console on purpose?

The slight of hand was rather obvious. And it came at a time when Donna was trying to convince him not to leave her, to come back home to her, if only just for a visit.

He'd not said no, but she'd easily seen through him the first time he lied about coming inside to have dinner with her family that first Christmas, and likely saw through him again – the avoidance of eye contact, fiddling with the TARDIS, the wane "yeah, maybe."

She also rather clearly wanted to go on another trip with him (she never wanted to stop in the first place), and was only saying no because of her obligations to her family. It's possible she was buying time by spilling the cup of coffee – just one more than one last trip, without it being her "fault."

She had, after all, just dropped a cup of coffee on a computer and lost a job she'd probably hated, knowing Donna. And before things had gone really wrong, she'd definitely been enjoying herself.

It's also possible she's still quite angry with the Doctor, but unable to fully verbalise this yet.

He connects the cup of coffee to remembering every detail of her. She has not been able to remember any detail of her life with him. The last time they were standing around the console together, he took her memories against her will. He says it killed him; but she – or that version of herself, the one she actually liked – was arguably the one who was killed.

And she might be remembering Lance, another man she truly loved and trusted, and how a cup of coffee seemed like a kindness but was in fact a lie, a violation.

The Doctor quite possibly also suspects something like this is what might have happened, given his level of anger at her.

Despite the fact that this Doctor is more able to admit his feelings, we don't see what happened between them when he took her memories ever properly resolved in words.

Instead, there are a series of proxy arguments that stand in for it – Donna's anger that she gave away all her money because of him, that he sees taking the slow path, living a life day after day as such agony when he made her do it, his anger at her faith that he will know how to defeat the Toy Maker.

And their most emotional proxy argument of all – who is at fault for stranding them at the edge of the universe? Is it Donna, who spilt the cup of coffee, or the Doctor, who she couldn't stop from wandering off?

Thematically, however, there is some resolution. The Doctor lets Donna decide to regain her memories, even if it means she'll die. The Doctor knows Donna enough to save her from being left to die alone, even if it is at the very last moment. The Doctor admits he used to think he knew everything, but now he knows he doesn't.

Donna gets to tell him it's not all about him saving her, gets him to stop, finally gets him to come home with her.

And in their last scene, it's the Doctor who is having the cup of coffee.

[froggiewrites]

Possession

Pairing: Doflamingo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Doflamingo wants you, and he has always been good at getting what he wants. Warnings: Smut, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Yandere (i think this counts?) Word Count: 1.8k Notes: This is pretty different in vibes from everything else I've posted here, but Doffy has bewitched me a little bit. I was trying to finish Dressrosa before writing about him but I just had to get this one out. Crossposted from Ao3

Doflamingo did not know exactly when you caught his eye.

It was small, at first, the instinct to seek you out. He didn’t indulge in it. He had far more important things to worry about. But as time went on, as you appeared again and again, he found himself more and more determined to have you.

You were a sweet thing, innocent and uncomplicated, ripe and ready for the taking. It took very little effort to endear himself to you. A few well timed words and well placed smiles and you were falling at his feet. It was adorable, really, the way you fell apart when he came around. He expected the passing fancy to end at that, a short dalliance that would end in you being thrown to the side as his ambitions led him somewhere far greater than here, somewhere you couldn’t and shouldn’t follow.

But he found himself enjoying you more and more. Your wide eyes and gentle smiles, your soft hands and thighs, your plush lips and warm mouth. You may not be an asset to the family, ignorant to his work and his purpose, but you were…useful, in your own way.

The nightmares didn't stop, but it was a little easier to come back to reality with someone beside him, not that he would admit that. And if some days he awoke with his hands primed around your throat, ready to squeeze, well. Nobody had to know. That was the risk you took, you naive little thing, when you followed him home. When you accepted his invitation into his bed, into his arms. If you noticed the bruises when you woke up, you never mentioned them. He doesn’t know if it’s ignorance or pity that keeps your mouth shut. He doesn’t know which is worse.

It turns his stomach to think you would pity him, dare to see him as small enough to deserve anything less than utter devotion, than worship. But the idea of you leaving if you truly knew him, knew better…it’s worse than revolting. It makes every one of his muscles tense, his chest tighten, his teeth clench. Every part of him primed to chase you down, hold you tight, ensure that you would not and cannot leave him.

Once he had a hold of the thought of you leaving, it stayed buried beneath his skin, a constant nagging feeling he couldn’t shake. He was haunted with the image of you sneaking away, catching a ride on a ship somewhere far out of his reach. In the days following, he holds you closer than ever before, grip strong enough to bruise. You cannot move an inch without his permission. As it should be.

He begins his careful construction of your cage soon after.

It begins slowly, with small gifts that earn him that soft smile. Then the next step, as you slowly start losing contact with old friends, start coming to him more and more as the only person in your life there and willing to listen. He keeps you coming back for companionship, for joy, for pleasure, ensuring that you can come to him and only him for such things.

When he takes you, he studies you, carefully plans each action to lead you further and further into this delusion you seem to have. That he loves you. That you’re safe in these arms. That you chose this. 

“Doffy!” You cry sweetly when his teeth find your neck, nipping at you gently, finding and latching onto your most sensitive parts. Tomorrow he will pretend the marks are an accident, that the small amount of blood he draws was simply due to an excess of enthusiasm, and not just him taking what he’s owed. Every part of you is his, including the blood in your veins. If he wants it, it is his to have. He savors the taste of iron on his tongue, the taste of your very life, your vital essence.

Doflamingo’s hands are calloused, and you gasp as you feel their roughness against your skin. He holds himself back, ensuring his touches are firm but not cruel, that his pace is steady but not brutal. His hands find your breasts first, pinching and prodding demandingly. He keeps his eyes on your face as his fingers find their place, teasing as he watches you struggle to keep your eyes on his, lashes fluttering. You keen sweetly as he rolls your chest in his hands, and he almost struggles to keep the smirk off of his face. You’re putty beneath him, ready for him to shape in whatever image he pleases.

His hand slips lower, fingers tracing slowly down to where he knows you want him. He carefully plans his steps in this dance, and he can see in your eyes that you’re following his lead without question. You shine with adoration, and when he intertwines his free hand with yours, you light up, a goofy, lovesick smile overtaking your lust for a moment. He grins, a sense of warmth blooming through him. Surely a sense of accomplishment, for continuing the charade successfully. For leading you further and further into your cage without a moment’s hesitation. You’re eating out of his hand, just as you were meant to.

His fingers push past your panties, and he begins by inserting only one, slowly sliding it into your hole as you moan. He keeps his pace slow even as you wiggle your hips in frustration, even as you begin to softly whine. He doesn’t give you what you want until you beg.

“Doflamingo, please, more!” Your voice is tinged with desperation, and he chuckles.

“I need you to be more specific, little bird.”

“Faster, please.”

He had planned to make you beg far more than that, until you were nearly crying for him, but the sweet little whimper in your voice makes it hard to deny you. “That’s all you had to say.”

He begins to thrust his finger at a significantly faster pace, then adds another, then another, prepping you well for the real show. As much as he would love to take you immediately, to take and take and take until you’re broken beneath him, he was sure you would leave for that. You wouldn’t look up at him with that sickening admiration in your doe eyes anymore, and he simply would not lose that. He attempts to take the hand intertwined with yours back, to rub at your clit as you clench around him, but you curl your fingers around him harder, and cry out, “No, stay, please!”

He allows you to keep the hand, for now.

He can feel you near your precipice, can see it in your eyes, and chooses the exact moment before you break to pull out his fingers. You sob as they leave, and he gives you a sympathetic smile, hoping you’re too far gone to realize it’s far closer to a predator’s smug grin. “I know, sweet thing, but you can’t have all the fun to yourself.”

He finally peels your panties off, leaving you bare and caged beneath him, where you belong. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he stares you dead in the eyes as he plunges his full length into you at once. You cry out, eyes closing, and he tuts quietly. “Eyes on me.”

You obey.

His pace is fast but not punishing, and he keeps his thrusts on the softer side of brutal. Another thing he will blame on his enthusiasm tomorrow, when you quietly whine that it hurts to walk and he shushes you and tells you you belong in his bed anyway. You’ll laugh like it’s a joke, and he’ll laugh at your ignorance. One day you’ll realize it was the truth, and you’ll willingly nest here at his side, ready and wanting whenever he asks. But that is the future, and right now he should be more focused on how deeply his cock is buried inside you, and how you cry and tighten around him, calling his name.

His teeth long for your neck again, but he can’t bring himself to break your intoxicating eye contact. He can see himself reflected in your eyes, looking a far more innocent and giving man than he is. Is this how you see him? His hand finds your clit, willing to continue the charade. You nearly scream as you feel his finger rub against the nub, and he almost laughs. How easy you are to unravel. A few more thrusts and a few well practiced movements of his fingers and you come undone, squeezing around him tightly, eyes falling shut, back arching off the bed and pressing your chests together. He keeps moving, allows you to keep riding it out, burying you in your pleasure. He cums a few moments later, burying up to the hilt in you, filling you, marking you as his. He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to bleed, and after his orgasm subsides he licks the wound, lavishing in the taste of you.

He falls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, and you don’t complain. You bring your arm up to run your hands through his hair affectionately. With the hand still held to the bed, you gently run your thumb over his knuckles, memorizing the feeling of it. You lay in silence as Doflamingo begins to slowly ponder the next stages of your entrapment. You’ll stay tonight, of course, but likely still go home tomorrow. Perhaps the next step should be ensuring you stay here every night. Accessible, willing, waiting for him. After that, he’ll find you work to do in the family, find some busywork that keeps you here. You can have everything you’ll ever need in these walls, if he so chooses. And choose you he does.

“Doffy?” Your sweet voice breaks him out of his pondering, and he looks down to see you staring up at him with something resembling worry.

“Yes, little bird?”

“Are you alright? You were frowning. Did I do something?” Your tone is filled with anxiety, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He chuckles. He can’t deny the pleasure he finds in you looking at him for comfort, for reassurance. You trust him. “No, of course not. I was just thinking about some plans for the future. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” To ensure the matter is laid to rest, he kisses you on the forehead, watching as you flush red, as your lips twitch into a smile and you hide your face in his shoulder. So sweet. So simple.

You fall asleep crushed beneath him, dreaming of a life shared. He falls asleep holding you close, dreaming of the next step in making you well and truly his.

[greenlyren12]

Waytelem

Neteyam x Reader

word count: 1k

Summary: Tradition with Neteyam

A/N:

"Individuals create a songcord that is used as a tactile representation of their own personal or family. Na'vi create their own song cords and expand on them continuously, adding a new item to the cord for any significant life event that occurs."

"Traditionally, once a Na'vi male has passed the tests on the path to manhood and has been accepted into the clan as an adult, he is not only allowed to make his bow from the wood of the Hometree, but he is also expected to choose his woman."

Two blue feet glued to the wooden branch below you, focused on keeping balance, you strolled ahead under the shadow of greenery. Rays of sunshine pooled beneath you, serenity chirping around, causing your ears to flutter. 

Stopping at almost every step, you lovingly caressed the manifestations of the Great Mother. From sensitive to the touch, peach colored mushrooms to hanging azure vines. Every breath you took was synchronized with the forest. 

Happiness was simple. 

As all things seemed in tune, a particularly annoying tail kept disturbing your peace. Finding the joy in tickling your nose and poking whichever eye it chose. Having enough of it, you swiftly seized it between your grasp and tugged on it.

“Neteyam, you säsrätx!”

The boy fastened his pace and collected his tail back with a toothy smile.

“Ikniyama is close, this should not even phase you.” The young na’vi snickered.

“That was your last breath, skxawng.” You evilly laughed and began to chase him, pinching the back of his legs whenever you could. 

Both of you quickly climbed up the trunk of a particularly large tree. Ascending to a naturally formed platform, secluded from the eye. Neteyam was first to sit down, carefully putting his bow and arrows beside him. 

You followed, going by his side, slapping his cheek with your tail. Proudly sitting down with your legs crossed, you expected a reaction - and none was received. Instead, he remained seated in front of you, a smug smile painting the lower half of his face. Not even looking at you, he busied himself with detaching his songcord from his waist cloths. 

You mirrored his actions, getting yours out.

“You know, this is unacceptable behavior from the future Olo’уektan.” An emotionless statement from you, which purpose was to get under his skin. 

Finally meeting your gaze, Neteyam laid his songcord on the ground.

“And this is the behavior expected from a child.” He said with a smile. 

The boy did not mean for it to hurt, but it did. By the clan’s way he was an adult, having completed the rite of passage. And you - half a year younger and still a kid. Being born again, it scared you. The uncertainty never left your weary shoulders. But it was close, you could do it. Conclude it and become a functioning member of the clan.

Neteyam’s soft nature immediately noted your silence. 

“You know I did not mean it.” The boy worryingly said while reaching out to caress your hand. 

Meeting his copper eyes, you let your face fall down.

“I will wait for you.”  He matter of factly reassured your downcast frame.

I will wait for you, he said, of its true meaning you pondered.

Would he wait for you? 

Both of your lives were intertwined from small children, you had always known him. Seeing him grow from Neteyam the Mighty Fisherman to Neteyam the Fierce Warrior. The youthful adoration was now a clumsy teenage love, but none of you dared to say a word. Ever since you could remember you had always done everything together. it was natural, you just always lingered by his side and he by yours. it was funny actually, right now was one of those moments. 

it was a tradition to weave your songcords together, if you had a closer look at them you would see they were almost identical. 

His last words had your cheeks become a deep shade of purple now, ears back, you squeezed his hand.

“Do not speak of such things, Nete.” Your tone low from embarrassment. 

His hand from yours went up to your nose to flick it so you could look him in the eye, missing your usual demeanor. 

“Whatever you wish, yawne.” The young na’vi went back to fiddling with his songcord. 

“Neteyam!”

You spent the next hour twining a fragment of an ikran’s tooth between the string. From when Neteyam claimed his own ikran and as it was your first time climbing the Hallelujah mountains. 

With Neteyam’s help you crushed it to smaller bits, so it could be easily woven into the cord. 

The time shared together was mostly spent in singing personal songs, only for your closest to hear. It served as an escape from the daily chores of life, hidden from parents and siblings. 

“I think i’m done.” Neteyam broke the silence first. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled for closer inspection, catching the boy by surprise. It was now your turn to make him nervous. 

A shy expression and a tight line forming on his mouth, he intently looked and waited for an answer.  

“It’s beautiful, Nete.” You flashed a toothy grin, fangs poking out. 

“Thank you.” His expression made your stomach turn, this boy would be the death of you. 

Neteyam retracted his palm and pulled out petals from a sun lily. His hand unsurely remained in front of him, scared to proceed. You curiously gazed at the boy, irises enlarging and tail nervously swatting. 

“Come closer.” He sweetly commanded, closing the space between you. 

For the first time ever, you silently obliged, standing on your four limbs, you waited. Something was different this time, the air was heavy, you dared not ruin it.

Neteyam carefully put the flower petals behind your ear, making your breath hitch. He pulled back, remaining a few inches from your face, noses almost touching. None of you moved, intently looking into the other’s eyes. You could see the light reflecting in his tawny orbs. 

He was beautiful.

The young na’vi slowly closed the space between your lips. The sweetness of the first kiss, gentle and loving. Scared of everything, both of you barely moved. You delicately pulled back, meeting his eyes and diving back in with a smile. This time more confident, Neteyam cupped your cheek, keeping you in place, growing eager by the second. You have no idea how long you had stayed like this.

And then you felt it. 

A tickling sensation on top of your heads, both of you pulled back, carefully looking up to inspect. 

A woodsprite gently hovered above you. 

He will wait for you.

Na'vi translation:

waytelem - songcord säsrätx - annoyance iknimaya - the rite of passage for young Na'vi skxawng - idiot olo’eyktan - clan leader yawne - beloved

[bafvkun]

I just feel like talking about how deep Mikayu’s bound runs don’t mind me (HEAVY spoilers ahead).

Lets get this straight : i don’t care if you ship them or not (even if you would be a fool not to) but no one can deny that they’re literal soulmates and I’m gonna show you exactly why.

Yu and Mika were ALWAYS bound to find each other and reunite. I’m not saying that because I’m delusional it’s literally canon. Their relationship is as old as dinosaurs and once again : this is canon.

Yu (or should I say Mika but like whatever if you didn’t read the scans it would take an eternity to explain) was literally created for Mika. The sole purpose of his existence was to look after Mika and be his only friend. Since day one they were ment for each other.

They swore on every stars and defied fate itself that they will always found each other again no matter how many times they die or get taken away from the other in a way or another, no matter their race, age or era.

There I was talking about the first versions of them, but let’s talk about the main one, the one we all know in the anime and throughout the whole manga, Yuichiro and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Mika was the first one in this life to get Yu to open his heart, to make him accept his fate and push him to make the best of it. Yu was just a traumatized child that almost got killed by his own parents yet Mika made him feel like he belonged somewhere, he showed him that family wasn’t always meant to be bound with blood.

When Yu lost Mika it was like he lost all hopes, for the longest time Yu was suicidal, already from young age and this loss just made him feel so much worse. Yes the loss of his whole new family, including Akane and the kids was bad for him, but deep down what truly broke them was the loss of one another.

Years later they reunited, Mika like Yu both changed deeply because of their own experiences and yet their relationship stayed unchanged. Just the dynamic between them switched, Yu was now the one to convince Mika that he could trust his new family (Glenn and his own squad).

One day my mom told me « if when you reunite with a long lost friend and it feels like not even a day has passed, then it’s real friendship » and it’s been proven to me that this is true, Mikayu being yet another exemple of this.

As a vampire Mika doesn’t feel much anymore, it’s said loud and clear that turning into a vampire takes away from you any vulnerability, any love or lust. Yet Mika feels so vividly for Yu, it runs so much deeper than his own nature. His loyalty towards him is beyond any words could ever describe.

And it’s also so damn obvious how Mika is just so grumpy with anyone but smiles whenever Yu is around. He didn’t smile for anyone else than him throughout the manga, Yu is his literal everything, he is the only one that brings him peace and joy.

Now we skip forward a bit, Yu and Mika are in a deadly situation and against everything Mika dies. First let’s get the obvious out of the way, his last words were « Yu, I love you. ». I mean. There’s nothing more straightforward than that.

But then, when a vampire dies he becomes a demon, so of course Yu had to take him as his cursed weapon. So that’s exactly what he did, after so much struggle that I will pass here he finally got to talk with Mika and have a contract with him.

But the thing is when a vampire dies and becomes a demon he loses all his memories from his previous life, so Mika didn’t remember Yu at all. Yet, despite everything their bound didn’t die, quite the contrary. Even before they did the contract, so before Mika had access to Yu’s memories, there was still something inside him that screamed « that guy is important to me », even if he didn’t understand where it came from.

All the memories Mika had of Yu after that was again : from Yu’s own memories.

And what Mika saw broke him, the desire to die was so overwhelming even in his demon form he found himself speechless and hurt. He didn’t remember Yu but he knew that he was important to him more than he could ever tell. And he didn’t only see their memories together, he saw Yu’s whole life, the moment with his parents, the years they spent apart, Yu and Glenn’s relationship and his new family, he saw everything.

He swore his loyalty to him yet again, ready to do anything for him and face the end of the world hand in hand with him. And of course, even when he lost his memories Yu never once doubted him and that he would still follow him.

Now. I’ve been talking a lot about Mika’s love for Yu but what about the other way around ? Moving forward in the story again Glenn revealed something to Yu, his squad and Mika that left a dilemma hanging in the air. Yu had to chose between humanity and Mika. And what did he do ? He chose Mika, betraying not only Glenn, the man that save him physically and psychologically and that he respected the most in the world, not only his squad with who he shared ups and downs like a family but humanity itself for the survival of Mika.

If this doesn’t speak volumes to you I don’t know what will. Yu sacrificed EVERYTHING down to his own survival just to spend one more day with Mika. Now not only vampires, demons and angels were against him, but humanity too all for the sake of one man.

Both of them constantly put their whole life and universe on the line for the other and they always do it in a heartbeat, like any other decision would just be unthinkable.

They had so many discussions that made clear how deeply their feelings for one another go, no matter if you interpret it as brotherly or romantic love. They confessed to each other so many times how they can’t live without the other, how life is meaningless if the other isn’t around. How there’s not even a point in trying to live if it isn’t to face tomorrow together and how each other’s happiness is more important than anything else in the world.

Both of them held on solely for the other, both of them are still breathing and living their truth thanks to nothing else than one another.

Their love is so fucking beautiful and pure, it stayed untouched through generations and generations of them.

Mikayu is an amazing ship and anyone would be a fool to not read Seraoh of the end just to witness such utter and raw love.

[untaemedqueen]

Finding My Pack

Alpha!OT7 x Omega!Reader

Genre: Fated Mates, Omegaverse, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Series Warnings: Omega Abuse (Not By OT7), Fated Mates/Soulmates, Scent Sympathy, Sunshine!FMC, Knotting, Smut, MMMMMMMF, MMMF, MMF, MF, Breeding Kink, Cursing, Dom!OT7, Sub!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Omega Abuse

A/N: This will be the only chapter posted to Tumblr. All future chapters can be found on Patreon~! See you there!

Chapter 1.

"You do not lock the goddamn doors in this fucking house."

The sentence was thick with a growl, one that if I was born correctly wouldn't have mattered in the slightest. Just hearing the sharp hit of his words, my insides clenched and coiled, dying to listen and make sure that he wouldn't be mad at me again.

"Sorry," I whispered softly, looking down at my bare toes that curled awkwardly under my gaze.

"You need to put on your scent blocker and try a little bit harder to fit in here. You're making all your brothers crazy with that fucking smell."

Swallowing thickly, I grabbed the bottle from him with a nod.

If my scent made my brothers crazy, they made me out of my fucking mind with sickness. Every one of them smells like acidic garbage with a hint of overpowering sweetness, y'know, like the way too fake soaps or body lotions you find in those hoity toity stores.

"You're a fucking Pangborn. Please act like it," my father grumbled, wrinkling his nose at the smell of my nervousness. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe your mother made you."

His words were a low blow but nothing I wasn't used to hearing now. Nothing any of the pack said got to me as bad as it used it.

Liar.

Okay, a lot of it hurt but I tried not to think of it all the time. It was my fault, really. I wasn't born right.

To be a Pangborn in Cypress City, you have to be an alpha. The Pangborns breed for one purpose and one purpose only, to give the city more alphas then they know what to do with.

Every Pangborn is expected to be a boy, to be an alpha and to take on the numerous betas that are practically beating down the door for them to be let in. So when I was born, disappointment was ripe in the air. It still is.

A small female omega with no qualities and no purpose.

I'm nothing.

Oh that's fun, what a great thought to have. Even if it hurts, it's true.

Since I was born I've been kept hidden like a secret. There's no fairytale here, there's no pack of alpha princes waiting at the bottom of my incredibly sterile, sad tower. There's no one that cares. Well, maybe Brady and MacKenzie but they pretend I don't exist half the time.

Looking down at the bottle of scent blocker, a sob threatened to well up in my throat.

"Weak omega bullshit." That's what my father would say.

It's so fucking annoying to be different. It's so painful. But the hope that one day I'd be accepted never ceased to creep into my thoughts.

So I sprayed the spray on even though it makes me feel sick.

I could smell him before my door opened. His alpha pheromones were bleeding throughout the long hallway that lead to my room.

He smelled of garbage, lemon juice and the slightest hint of boysenberry. Although the boysenberry is not his own smell. It's a betas.

"Oy!" MacKenzie booms, shoving open the door.

His bright red hair and forest green eyes searched the mostly barren room until he found me in the corner.

"He cornered you again?" he asked softly, stepping into the room like he's witnessing a hurt animal.

"It's okay!" I tried to beam a smile for him but it fell flat into some kind of grimace.

MacKenzie wasn't really my brother, he hailed from the Alban Pangborns so he's more like my very distant cousin but he's pack and that makes him my authority regardless. If he barked at me, I'd end up doing his bidding. Just like all my other brothers do. I'm grateful he doesn't do it but he still could nonetheless.

"You sprayed on the right amount," Kenz praised, giving me a small smile.

The praise made me want to preen, made me want to jump and shout for joy that I did something right but I kept it locked tight within me.

"You'll be pleased to know that your father and some of the others are going on a business trip soon. It'll just be some of us left in the house. You won't have to smell all this alpha shite around, you ken?"

His thick accent made me smile then. When he first came over from Alba I had not a fucking clue what he was talking about but now it almost feels like a secret language we speak.

"I ken," I nodded, setting the spray down on my dresser.

"Just wait a while to come down to get your dinner. The boys and I have been having a beta fucking feast," he wiggled his eyebrows and left the doorway without so much as a goodbye.

I wish I was a beta.

No, actually, I wished I was an alpha. I wished I was born an alpha so that I didn't have to be a disappointment and left out of everything.

Sitting down on my bed, I fluffed the uncomfortable comforter around me to no avail and since I know I'm alone I let out the most pitiful of whines. Whining wasn't allowed. My father told me that alphas hate whining more than anything.

Once I whined during dinner with the Landons and their alpha son looked like he wanted to tackle me from across the table. It was the one and only time I was able to go to dinner with my family. They never let me go again.

I apparently ruined their business merger dinner.

My family made a fuck ton of money. Too much money to count on your fingers, not that I'd ever see a cent. I wasn't worth a dollar to them. They own a vast majority of land across the globe, mostly farms or patches of free wilderness that people are begging to buy from them.

If only those vast patches of land would be able to buy me a soft comfortable comforter. This one is rough and itchy and I don't like it. I don't know much about being an omega but I do know that I don't like the blankets I own.

You see, omegas are rare. Like one in one hundred is an omega rare. Somewhere in history omegas just became a rarity and as such they're terribly hated.

Whenever I tried to ask the pack any questions they all shut me down with a growl and told me to go back to my room.

"Y/N!"

My father's bark was sharp and I tightened my terribly uncomfortable blanket over my shoulders at the noise.

If they are having a beta party downstairs I most certainly wouldn't be welcome to interrupt it. All the beta females that came into the house hated me. I tried to be friendly and smile, tried to make friends with other girls but they didn't want anything to do with me.

Probably feeding into the whole hate omega-kind thing, huh?

When my father shouted my name again, I had no choice but to get up. It was an alpha command now, filled with bite and fury.

If I saw one bare tit I was going to lose my goddamn mind. I'd been having these awful urges these past couple of months. It felt like something was boiling in my gut and itching beneath my skin, just begging to get out of me. What it was, I wasn't sure but it feels fucking awful and devastating just the same.

When I was starting to run a fever, my father would give me a few pills and lock me up in my room until the fever had passed and I was able to carry on with my chores.

My feet took me without thinking. The large home I lived in with the twelve others in the pack passed by in a blur. I tried not to look up from the wooden floorboards, I really didn't want to see anyone mating out in the open like I know my brothers loved to do.

I could hear the audible moans of the betas, probably in various states of undress all around me as I made my way to my father's office.

This had always been my home but I'd always felt like a stranger here. It's not just because my family wasn't welcoming, it just felt wrong. Nothing in this place is where it should be. The pictures on the cabin-like wooden walls weren't at all in the right order, the couches in the sitting room weren't staged properly, even the wood that goes into the fireplace smells horrendous.

Everything about this place made me feel sick.

That includes my father's office.

Once I stepped inside I was immediately smacked with pheromones, ones that made my stomach roll with nausea. I wonder if that's how everyone felt. I wonder if betas got nauseous with their families too.

My eyes scanned the room which was terribly out of order and then they caught on the one picture that sat on my father's desk.

It was her.

My mother. Whom of which I've never met. She was a beta that my father never bonded with but got pregnant anyway. He loved her…I think. But when she had me and I was an omega she was disappointed and left me here. She left me here alone. With these people.

Family.

She left me here with my family.

I hadn't realized I whined until my father cracked his hand down on his desk with a fierceness. "What did I say about that shit?!"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Not that she ever does, eh?" my brother Riley laughed, elbowing me in the ribs as he passed.

Riley was an interesting case of smells. There's the cedar which makes sense because he spends a lot of time outdoors, there's the sharpness of spearmint like a powerful gum that makes your nostrils burn and…boysenberry?

He and MacKenzie have been sharing again. Definitely not uncommon for those two.

"Close the doors. She's gonna scare all the betas away. I'm not waiting another round for Hunter to have an alpha son of his own."

"Keep the lineage alive." That's the pack motto. What a terrible fucking bumper sticker that would be.

I stood there, looking down at my toes as my father and Riley talked and laughed with one another. Probably forgetting I was even in the room. Which happens sometimes.

"Alright, little O?" Kenz cheered, entering the office.

"Don't call her that," my father snapped, finally remembering I was around.

MacKenzie held his hands up in a gesture to soothe any frayed nerves and he sat down with a groan on the couch closest to father's desk.

"Y/N," my father began, not even offering the kindness to look at me. "Your brothers and I are going on a business trip outside of the city. Some of your brothers, like MacKenzie, are staying back because they have a dinner meeting at the house while I'm away."

My head lifts in surprise. Will I be allowed to go?! Can I eat dinner with my brothers?!

"There's many alphas in the pack, we can kill two birds with one stone. This business meeting is incredibly important for us."

My smile was megawatt and I nodded instantly. "Sure, of course! I can–"

"You can," my father interrupted with a sneer. "Make sure you stay in your room, take your pills and keep your scent blocker applied when the Euphoria Pack comes to the meeting. This contract will be our biggest one so far and I will not have your omega bullshit fuck it up for the rest of us. Do you understand?"

The disappointment and sorrow that swirled through me almost knocked me off my feet. "Oh, I see… I understand."

"See that you do. I won't stand for losing this deal because you couldn't handle yourself."

God, I wanted to curl up and die. I'm so pitiful. What a fucking waste. I wish I was never born an omega.

Trying to bury whines and suffering hurt sometimes and in this instance it felt like a red hot poker was shoved down my throat.

"She stinks like sadness," Riley chuckled, shaking out his long brown hair and looking me over with disdain dripping from every pore.

"Lighten up, brother. She's only human," Kenz laughed, stepping in front of me and waving his hand behind his back.

Get out.

That's what he was telling me.

"Dinner will be brought up to you. If you're feeling hot then take your pills. We're leaving in the morning and we won't be back for a few weeks."

Oh, thank God, I could do without seeing my father and half of my brothers for weeks on end. Maybe finally I would be able to walk around without getting yelled at.

Three days of the freedom I thought I would be acquiring went by too fast. I'd been left with my brothers that were the easiest to deal with. Brady, Ronan, MacKenzie, Dash and Hunter were, of course, the easiest to deal with because they never nagged me and they were always too busy fucking betas to really give a shit what I was doing.

The house stunk of sex and carefree fun but more importantly it smelled of my freedom. I was able to go out in the garden to read, to sunbathe, to smell something that wasn't garbage. It was heavenly.

I'd seen flowers I've never seen before, ones that weren't there the last time I was in the gardens. Apparently Leticia, one of the pack chasers, suggested sprucing things up. When I suggested it to my father I got sent up to my room with no dinner and pills because I was acting 'out of order.' I'm a person not a goddamn machine. How could I possibly be out of order?

But now with the three days of freedom gone, I'm once again left up in my room without a single thing to do. Defiance curled in my bones and I narrowed my eyes at the white little pills on my bedside table.

My father wasn't here, he wouldn't know if I took them or not. I'd rather get a fever then take them and feel even sicker than before. Those pills made me nauseous and I felt like reality was so far out of touch that I'd never get back to it. I did end up spraying the scent blocker, though. Just one little spritz, just enough to save the visiting alphas downstairs from my monstrous odor.

They shouldn't be subjected to a disgusting omega. An embarrassment to the family.

The sprawling cabin estate was large before our eyes but it pales in comparison to the mansion we just created on the outskirts of the state.

"I don't like the smell," Jin murmured to us.

The smell was honestly horrific. These alphas seemed to stew in the scents of sex and their own pheromones. You could smell the female betas like they were throwing out a wide casting net to repulse everyone around them.

"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Taehyung grumbled, folding his arms.

"Because although they're disgusting, they're rich as fuck and they have the land we need to start up the center," Namjoon replied evenly, fixing his tie.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the enlarged wooden cabin in front of us. That's exactly what it was: a large, gigantic wooden house. It would be almost comical if it wasn't very real.

"I don't even wanna touch the door," Hoseok hissed, taking to kicking the front door insead.

Even in this day and age everyone lives with the one soul purpose of finding their person, their omega but this pack didn't seem to care about finding one. Not with the way their lodgings smelled.

Now, of course, finding an omega that's right for your pack is like finding a unicorn or finding gold at the end of a rainbow but packs do it. Not all the time but enough to keep packs hopeful, at least.

Once the door swung open, a red headed alpha before us smiled widely. "Gents, welcome! The Pangborn Pack is happy to have you!"

Namjoon gave him his typical killer smile and the alpha seemed to relax at it. Our pack leader was all killer charm and easy going… until you fuck with his pack.

The seven of us have only had each other for quite a few years now and our family depends on one another more than most.

"Thank you for having us," Jimin smiled, stepping into the home first.

His eyes bounced around the interior before nodding. Once I stepped into the entryway behind him, the need to look at the inside faded. In the air, apart from the alpha scents were the scents of dinner and something so deliciously sweet that it made my mouth water.

Fuck! What is that smell?!

"Made us dessert?" Namjoon inquired with a laugh.

So he can smell that too.

The scent was warm and sugary like a fresh out of the oven sugar cookie with vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top.

Why the fuck was I about to nut over dessert?

Casting my eyes to Taehyung, I could see him tugging at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

It was getting increasingly hot in here, that I could guarantee.

The scent was so thick and practically viscous I could feel it wrapping around my cock and tugging sensuously. My knot was two seconds from expanding and the desire to rut until I was sated was pressing indecently on my brain.

"No dessert here, lads. The betas can barely cook a steak without it burning! We ordered out for dinner tonight! Dinnae ken billionaires like you would be opposed to that, eh?"

"Dinnae ken means didn't think," another alpha offered, slipping in beside the redhead. His hair was long and brown, shaggy even with a boyish smile that could probably charm anyone he laid his eyes on.

"That sounds great," Jin replied, unbuttoning his suit jacket and cracking his neck.

Whatever that fucking scent is, it has us all by the balls.

Namjoon gripped his hand into a fist, eyes glazing over all of us. "To the dining room, then?"

"Getting right down to business! I love that! We have betas to look after anyway," Red chortled, wiggling his eyebrows at us.

When the group of us moved with the two other alphas, my heart started to hammer as the smell became stronger.

I tried to temper my growl that wormed its way up my throat but Joon caught it. "I don't know what it is but fuck, I want it so bad," he agreed.

"Alright there, lads?"

"Just have to use the restroom. Would you mind sending me in the right direction?" I inquired, needing to find the words through a thick haze of want.

"Bathroom on the first floor is occupied for the betas. Second floor up that staircase there," Red pointed to the staircase from where the scent is strongest. "Fifth door on the right."

With a nod, I set off trying not to falter and stumble from the exquisite smell.

"We'll be waiting in the dining room. The pack is excited to make this merger," the brown haired man smiled.

Once they were out of sight I took the stairs two at a time, eyes searching for any indication of where the scent came from.

I let my senses guide me. Following the smell took me past the bathroom and past any rooms that smelt of the alphas. Stopping at the end of the hallway, the door before me was completely different from the others. It was metal, almost sterile in a sense. But the scent was there, it was so heady and present that my cock stood to attention.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, shoving open the door and barreling up the stairs.

The hallway I rushed down was bare of anything home-y and it looks like some sort of clinical hospital ward.

The door at the other end suddenly opened in a flourish and the sweetest little thing I'd ever seen stepped out with curious, glazed eyes.

"Omega," I groaned long and low, stepping toward her.

She was the maddening scent. She was what my pack was going crazy over.

"Oh! I'm so… I've never–" the sweet thing whispered, looking me over with hunger.

The perfect woman. Right before my fucking eyes. Those lips, those sweet eyes, that adorable, if not a little scared smile, that fucking body. Built just for me and my other pack brothers.

Mine, mine, mine! Every cell in my body screamed it with frantic need.

"Why do you smell so good?" she whimpered, lifting a hand as if she wanted to touch me.

Please fucking touch me. Holy shit, I was going out of my fucking mind from this perfect little thing.

"What do I smell like, sweetness?" I inquired, stepping closer.

"Like warm hot chocolate and marshmallows. Not like garbage at all!" she gasped, looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

A laugh tumbled past my lips. What an innocent creature.

"Does everyone smell like garbage to you, sweetness?"

"I just want to…" she groaned, a whimper slipping past her lips.

A purr started in my chest, rattling my bones with how thick and heavy it was. Oh fuck, I'd never purred for anyone before.

"What do you want?" I asked softly, holding my hands up to show her I mean no harm.

She gripped my wrist with a dainty hand probably thinking it had a fierceness she didn't embody. She lifted my hand to her soft cheek and my purr started up once more.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, not taking her eyes off mine. "I know omegas are disgusting. I shouldn't bother you."

The sweet purr she pulled from me turned to a growl in an instant. "You could never be disgusting. Omegas are precious. Didn't your alphas teach you that?"

She stared up at me, eyes starting to brim with tears.

Oh my God, she was everything I could have ever wanted. My pants were so fucking tight, my heart feels like it was gonna combust and I'm pretty damn sure I just met my fucking mate.

"They're not really my alphas," she whispered softly, keeping my wrist close to her nose.

I wanted to take this gorgeous woman and lock her away where no one but the pack can find her. Holy shit, my brain was turning to fucking mush.

"What are they then if not your alphas?" I asked, stepping closer.

When my chest brushed against hers, she perfumed the air for me and another purr ripped from my chest like it was an instrument being played purely for her.

"Brothers, father," she mumbled, lost in a haze of our own making.

"So you don't have a pack of your own, sweetness?" I whispered, coursing my thumb over her cheek.

"No one would want me. I'm useless," the omega replied so softly I might not have heard her if not for her keeping my attention ensnared.

"I highly doubt that, pretty girl. What's your name?"

"Y/N…"

Beautiful.

"I'm Jeongguk. It's nice to meet you, sweetness."

"I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't take it!" Jimin chanted, rushing into the hallway.

The omegas gasp was loud and frightened for only a moment until she laid eyes on the other alpha. I purred for her, watching her instantly relax at the noise.

"This is Jimin. He's a part of my pack. The Euphoria Pack."

"Oh no, I've…I've ruined dinner. My father will be so upset with me," she groaned, sounding not as upset as she probably would be if I wasn't purring up a fucking storm.

"Scent sympathetic. I thought it was like a fucking myth for people like us," Jimin laughed, stepping up beside me.

He didn't seem jealous or upset at all that my hands were on her. We've never tried for an omega, not really. Unfortunately, most omegas wanted us for our money and not for the connection. Not to mention most of the omegas we met smelled so cloyingly sweet that it gave us headaches for weeks. Most omegas wanted just some of us but not all of us and that doesn't bode well for a pack.

"You smell like calming tea and blueberries," Y/N breathed, blinking up at him.

"And you smell like a yummy dessert, sweetheart. How's such a pretty omega like you hidden up here away from everything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm just an omega," she whimpered, looking between us.

"'Just an omega'? Don't you know your worth, pretty girl?" I scoffed, tilting my head.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it and furrow her eyebrows.

"I want to introduce her to the pack. I think this is it. I think we found our girl," Jimin beamed at me, allowing her to pull him closer.

She seemed to be a needy little thing. One we certainly wouldn't mind doting on. She also seemed completely out of touch with reality and it wasn't just because she was obsessed with our scents.

"Do you have a nest, sweetness? Would you care to show us?"

A nest is very sacred to omegas, it's one of the only places they can find comfort during heats and in times of stress. It was incredibly forward for me to ask but I wanted to know what she liked. I knew my hopes might be high but I wanted to set up the nest in the new mansion how she would like it. Because she was mine. She was ours. She belonged with us.

"I– What's a nest?" Y/N asked, eyebrows pinching innocently.

"Do not fucking tell me you're kept in the dark up here," Jimin growled deeply, his scent turning acidic.

Instead of turning tail and running, she started to… climb him?

She climbed him like a fucking tree. And the good looking bastard was all for it.

One arm snaked around her waist to keep her up and the other ran up and down her back in soothing motions.

She nuzzled his cheek and neck, whimpering and begging for his scent to be all over her.

"Good girl," Jimin cooed, purring for her. "Take what you want, sweetheart. We'll gladly give it."

There were rules to getting an omega, courting before mating and making sure your omega was happy and well looked after. In some cities omegas even went to Help Centers to find their perfect pack but Cypress City had no such thing. That was what we were trying to change. That was why we needed this deal with this pack.

"I don't know what's happening! I'm so sorry! I just feel so…"

"Overwhelmed?" Jimin offered, pulling back to look at her.

She nodded, whimpering and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

"We need to talk to the pack," I told him, pressing my chest to her back and purring. I drifted the back of my hand over her bare arm and she seemed to thrive on not only praise but physical affection.

"I can't leave her," Jimin hissed over her shoulder, hugging her tighter at the thought of having to part.

"I don't want you to go! Please! I'm so tired of being alone! Please don't go!" she sobbed into his neck.

A growl ripped from my chest at her sadness and I was storming off before I even knew what was happening.

She's mine. She's mine. She's mine.

"Guk!" Jimin called but I was already barreling down the stairs with a fierceness building in my chest.

They kept that precious omega in a sterile fucking ward like she was some sort of disease. She didn't even know what a nest was! It was a disgrace! She'd been abused without even understanding anything!

She's mine!

If one more sob of hers entered my ears, I thought I might burn their oversized camp cabin down and dance on the embers.

Shoving open the dining room doors, I glowered at the pack that sat high and mighty at the end of the long dining room table. Once they saw me and smelled me, they all stood.

"Been wandering around our home, have you?" Red asked with the tilt of his head.

"Stupid girl can't do anything but get herself in trouble!" one of them sneered.

The insult made a growl rip from my throat and they all stared long and hard at me. I wouldn't stand for this. I couldn't stand for this.

"She doesn't even know what a fucking nest is. How dare you all treat an omega like this! This is abuse!" I boomed, widening my eyes at them.

My packs jaws fell open in shock and suddenly they were standing to surround me, to have my back.

"She's scent sympathetic with us," Jimin assured, entering the room with her still cradled to him.

I was happy she liked him. He's far more easy going and carefree then most of us and she'd enjoy his company.

My pack stepped toward her and she cried sweetly at all of their scents. They purred for her and my heart expanded. No one was left out and she locked eyes with all of them. She jumped ship from Jimin to Namjoon and he nuzzled her hair. He wrapped her legs around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Would you like to leave this place, pet?" he inquired.

“She'll do no such thing!" Red boomed.

When she whimpered at the alpha bite, we growled in defiance.

"You think your bark is bad? Mine was given to me by the devil. If I have to force you to obey, I fucking will. It's the omegas choice. You can't keep her here like a fucking prisoner!" Joon boomed.

"She's not a part of the deal," one of the Pangborn's hissed through his teeth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she gasped repeatedly, trying to set herself down.

"Do you want to get down, pet?" Namjoon asked, tilting her jaw to look up at him.

She reluctantly shook her head, burying her face back into his neck.

Oh fuck, she's so perfect and sweet.

"Then you stay exactly where you are," the pack leader whispered, giving her his wrist to be able to tilt his head and glower at the Pangborn pack.

"You expect me to pay? For a person?! Are you out of your small alpha minds?" Namjoon bit out, sneering at her brothers.

"MacKenzie… Dad is gonna flip," one of them breathed.

"I'm tired of always having to sneak Juliet around. Just be rid of her. Omegas are nothing but trouble."

Hoseok growled so loudly, something he never does, that it almost made my chest rattle.

"I know you don't know us very well," Seokjin breathed slowly as the other pack continued to argue. "But if you feel safe with us we'd like to take you somewhere you can be yourself and be happy. How does that sound, princess? You deserve much better than this shithole."

"I won't feel sick?" she inquired, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Oh, she's killing me here.

"Do you feel sick in this house?" Yoongi growled, narrowing his eyes at the other pack.

Her nod was slow and sad.

"I'm getting her out of here. Now!" Namjoon boomed, pressing her face into the scent gland of his neck.

She seemed to love being held. We could do that for her. We could give her anything and everything she wants. We could be good for her.

"Give us a million!" Red or MacKenzie called back but Namjoon was already heading for the door.

"Get fucked!" our pack leader growled.

"Wh-Where are we going?" Y/N asked, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

"Home, sweetness," I promised. "We're going home."

[sp00pypumpkins]

This is how I feel Zero would met player HAHHA, they werent prepared to face an adult human per se XD.

Au belongs to @asamary!

I am going to rant a bit about it under the cut.

He uses they/he pronouns

He is slightly smaller than catnap

So Zero was just in a intership for a short period before he found the truth and wanted to out it but they got him and turn him into a toy! When he found the truth he met the prototype but his fascination of gadgets and mechanism was stronger than feeling fear XD

He can produce energy via his emotions and on his own will if he is in good shape, he met the critters soon after, he was in charge of the time for movies or shows and story telling. His knowledge in mechanism made him be able to have more dinamic storytelling using tricks with lights and such.

Zero then loses their temper electrocuting a scientist not on purpose trying to stop them for taking more kids, in wich the scientist take notice and take him to the labs in wich he got experimented more and amplifying his production of electricity.

He then kept being experimented while being plugged to the facility providing electricity to a portion of it. He became a living generator.

The prototype then offered them to be part of the hour of joy by the promise of revenge and freedom and no more pain, he accepted and shut the facility down from electricity and closed the doors from many places trapping everyone inside.

Now this is where the the au and canon takes different paths

Since in canon Zero gets deceived by the Prototype and was kept as a generator for the prototype (basically he will still be used as a generator by the prototype) the prototype would carve a mouth in the shape of a smile on Zero so he can feed. Zero dislikes him after being betrayed.

In the au since the prototype just killed the scientists and the bad people, Zero is very loyal to the prototype and helps them finding the more bad people by hacking security cameras or websites, but he stays in the town most of the time.

In the au Zero lives in the basement of the aparment the critters live in (if they are in a building and not just a singular house lmao) He produces the energy of a portion of the city, if he doesnt their electricity would go hirewire, he just plugs himself at night and acumulates the electricity in the generators.

If there is a storm and ther ei s apower outage he can easily feed the building, you just need to wake him up and tell him about it.

Zero has 6 minicritters of themselfves in wich some are patrolling and some are around him, they are like security cameras in a way

They go around fixing a lot of stuff around town specially electronics,

He likes to create gadgets, toys or artwork from metal, thats why he would go to the dupmster zone to search for parts and bring them home, they find admiration how the prototype can dissamble an object to create another so he looks up to the prototype like a teacher.

He is usually in the background doing mundane fixes there and there, because he was isolated and the only contact was when they experimented on him, he gets veyr anxious around adult humans but with time you can see he is just a silly guy who adores affection he just doesnt know how to handle it yet.

I like to think they are the guy whom people go when something gets broken or need assitance with.

I really couldnt stop thinkning about the au, its 2 am but I probs forgot things.

If ya dont mind I shall keep doing lil comics about this au with my oc in it qwq

Now just a wip of a future ref I am making

Some fun facts:

He dislikes being touched in the back

The Prototype helped zero gain a mouth and get unplugged from the cables since it was a tedious and careful task.

The minicriters have different shapes (i forgot to put the x body marks on the square anthena minicrtitter :()

Simple shape on anthena= complex shape on body and vice versa.

He can speak human language very soflty but it feels off for him specially if he talks for to long it starts to hurt. (He normally talks in gibberish like puppycat from the show :D)

The stronger the emotion the more energy he can produce

If there are tvs plug on them or he touches them, he can comunicate with those using memories and replicating the voice from that memory (is like doing a collage of different voices and images in a tv) he can also project their dreams on tvs

He is very light

The scarf/coat is attached to them like part of their body.

They are protective of their friends he isnt very strong but will fight for them

He gets sometimes ghost pains in their back, the scale of pain depends of the day

ANYWAYS thats it me thinks I shall make lil comics about all the facts and other stuff other times qwq

If u read everything, thank you and hello! Hope u have a good day :D

Also sorry about the grammar and writting english is not first language and its 2 am HAHAHA

They have a hard time hidding how they really feel because the color their anthena, eyes and stars may change by how he feels

He tries to always stay calm and with right composure but he is actually very emotional, he just had learn how to manage the emotions

[randomfoggytiger]

Fight the Future Hallway, In-Depth (Part III): "No, Something Stung Me"

Resolution made, Scully quietly ruminates over ideas, raising an eyebrow when one sticks. Steeling herself for her own first undisguised overture, she closes her eyes and swiftly pulls back to face Mulder.

Mulder remains frozen in place, face hardened, afraid her withdrawal is his anticipated rejection. As Scully cups the back of his head and crushes her mouth to his forehead, his eyes immediately close: emotionally overwhelmed.

Prolonging the kiss, Scully presses her lips harder, scrunching her face and eyebrows in an attempt to translate the ardor of her devotion and awe and gratitude and love.

Mulder flexes his mouth and clenches his jaw, understanding her gesture, feeling its depths, and holding back a responding wave of emotion. When she finally separates, his jaw and lips remain tightly clenched.

Leaning her head against his, Scully attempts to center herself-- them-- with a slow, purposeful, breathy release.

Mulder’s eyes pop open at her exhale, an idea of his own taking shape; and closes them again briefly while his hands plunge forward for purchase on the back of her head.

Both pull back in sync; and Scully studies his face freely for the first time-- no pretenses between them, unashamed of the tear still clinging to her cheek.

The feeling of being precious to him, of seeing the proof of it in his eyes, nearly overwhelms her in a different teary direction; and she looks away to tamp down a giddy surge of joy. Turning back, her eyes glance at the one thing Mulder hasn't given her: his mouth.

Her expression drops slightly, becoming more serious as she weighs his present confession against his past retreats-- purposeful or not-- from more serious or passionate subjects (his sneer at her "date" in The Jersey Devil, his attempts to lighten the bent of her maternal considerations in Home, his idealized worship of doomed soulmates in The Field Where I Died, his blind run after monsters and initial avoidance of her cancer topic in Detour.) She looks back up from these unspoken observations… and finds Mulder openly eyeing her with want.

Scully freezes, shifting between his eyes in shock. What she sees is the truth; and, when his expression doesn't change, she slowly moves in a little closer.

Mulder’s eyes are hooded and tender, bearing his soul to Scully as he never has to another being-- to the one and only person who accepted his brokenness long ago, who trusts and believes in him regardless, and who, consequently, makes him wholly beautiful.

He is handing her his heart, complete.

His partner's undeniable, brazen reciprocation of his heartfelt confessions have stripped away the last of his halting considerations. Mulder begins to slowly pull her in, zeroing in on and maintaining laser-focus with her eyes for any signs of hesitation or rejection.

Scully, feeling his reciprocal move towards her, nearly loses control of her smile again; but lets it shine through her eyes as she keeps them locked onto his. Her eyebrows scrunch and her mouth tightens, powerful emotions tightening her chest: not only is she ready, she’s been hoping for this moment.  

Mulder continues to inch slowly forward, and she smooths out her face to further encourage him, getting lost in the moment as it continues to progress. 

He blinks, still moving at a snail’s pace, waiting and waiting and waiting for her to back away or tell him to stop. Expecting it. 

When she doesn’t he covers more ground, caressing her cheekbone as another small test before the kill shot. He gives her one last chance, catching her eye; and when she glances away only to look directly at his lips, they both prepare for his descent: Mulder closes his eyes, while Scully waits until completely certain he will follow-through.

Then the bee stings, and she startles away. 

Scully launches to the side-- “Ow!”-- while Mulder almost topples onto her, eyes still closed. He snaps back to reality as she clutches at the back of her neck, staring down at her hand in confusion before drawing away, misreading her quick reaction as the last minute rejection he’d been expecting. Again, he closes his eyes-- this time in chagrin-- and opens his mouth in disappointment and embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.   

“No,” Scully assures, indignant at the interruption, confused as she identifies its cause. "Something stung me."

Mulder takes in her reassurance; and as the rational part of his brain kicks in, he pulls his hand away from her neck, not wanting to get hurt by whatever injured Scully.

Scully extracts her unexpected passenger, staring at it, puzzled.

He examines it, too; then peels back her shirt collar to inspect the damage on her neck.

Risk assessment over, Mulder intuits, “He must got in your shirt.”

Disappointment and resignation pour from his voice as he rubs her neck and cradles her head, working his way back through the last minute mentally. Mulder's already accepted her assurance; but now has to process (and live with) the interruption of their first kiss.

And, of course: “Mulder…?”

“Yeah?”

“Something’s wrong.” 

Something's wrong, indeed.

CONCLUSION

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[itjazzbicch]

The Way You Are

Pairing:  MK1!Kenshi Takashi x Reader 

First time writing for Kenshi so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Returning home to the reader who was worried about his travels with Lord Lui Kang and his fellow champions, the reader is in shock when they see that he not only has Sento, sees what Sento can do, and also learns why Kenshi came back wearing a red band across his eyes...

Warnings:  MK1 story mode spoilers (If you don't know what happened to Kenshi in story mode lol) Slight swearing, established relationship, little flirting toward the end (And that's it, pretty much!)

Word Count: .9k 

Kenshi setting out to find Sento already worried me since he was going on this conquest alone, being his only support, and learning how it turned out to be much more than finding Sento put me in distress.

It took him some time, but he finally came back to me, telling me over a phone call; his low tone built up more anxiousness, but I was glad he was finally back.

Learning about the realms and how he was being sent to Outworld was a lot to take in as it was all new knowledge to me, and I was relieved when I saw the hilt of a new sword out the window.

He must've gotten his hands on Sento! Hearing the door open, I nearly jumped for joy but came to a slow halt once I saw a blindfold covering his eyes.

"Kenshi?"

"I did it, Y/N," He started smiling at me, pulling out the centuries-old sword to show me, "I have Sento."

"I never doubted you, Kenshi," I smiled back, nervous to ask, "What's with the blindfold?"

"About that," He sighed, hand caressing the red band, clearly nervous to explain why he was wearing it, "Don't worry. I can still see, sort of."

"What happened while you were gone?" My voice grew stern as I approached him, wanting to know what he was hiding, going to touch the band, but he gripped my hand:

"You don't want to see. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"I do," I said more sternly, showing him that I was acting out of care, "I want to know what happened because if someone did this on purpose, I'd gladly visit them."

"That's not necessary," He huffed, letting my hand go, "It wasn't intentional."

"Please, just let me see," I whispered with a sweeter tone, his deep sigh a signal to allow me to lift the band, seeing how his eyes were gouged, "Oh my goodness."

I covered my mouth with a hand as tears filled my eyes, angry at the thought that someone would do such a thing to him, someone I cared about more than anyone.

"This wasn't intentional? Are you kidding me?" This disbelief was strong, unable to accept that this was somehow an accident.

"It truly wasn't, Y/N," Taking my hand to provide comfort, he assured me, "But as I said, there's no need to worry. Sento gave me back my sight in its own way."

"What do you mean?" I knew Sento was a mighty sword but didn't understand until he entered my living room.

"See how I can move around with no issues?" He pointed out, watching and beginning to understand, blown away as he wielded Sento, "Just watch."

Going to a fake plant I had in the corner, he sliced the leaves into pieces, my jaw dropping at the blue aurora that flowed around Sento's blade, not believing my eyes:

"What the hell? What was that, Kenshi?"

"Sento has my ancestors within it," He explained, "They guide me, make me stronger. I can finally free my clan from the Yakuza and their crimes."

I still couldn't believe what I witnessed, but I knew it was true. I ran to hug him as he put Sento away, hugging him tightly and praising, "I knew that you could get Sento back. You will fulfill all your goals. I know it."

"Thank you, Y/N," He hugged back, squeezing me as he whispered, "Thank you for always being the one by my side."

"Forever will be, Kenshi," I vowed, holding his face, staring at that blindfold and only able to imagine the hell and pain he went through to make it this far; there was still a far way to go.

Tears swelled in the corner of my eyes again, and he quickly noticed, trying to apologize:

"I know that I worried you while I was gone, and seeing me like this-; I'm-"

"It's okay," I assured, swallowing a breath to shake off the sad tears and mean wholeheartedly, "You came back to me, and if Sento brought back your vision in a new way, that's all that matters. I'll always love you the way you are."

My last sentence made him smile, his embrace warming with his words, "I may have lost my eyes, but I'm not easily defeated. Don't stress over me. I'll always come back to you."

"You better," I teased but meant firmly, bringing his lips to mine, filling our connection with all the passion in my heart that I had for him, making him chuckle some as our lips briefly parted, "Or you better take me with you."

"You'd be in for culture shock. I'm not even sure if that's what I should call it," We laughed more, but I was serious despite my giggles:

"Maybe, but I'd still go and kick the hell out of anyone who even thinks of harming you."

"So protective," He joked, smirking at me while gripping my hip, "I still have skills, you know?"

"I am protective, and I own that," Kissing one more time as I hugged him again, I made sure he knew all my actions and words were made from love, but also trying not to be too serious and play along, wiggling the hip in his hand, "And trust me, I know you have all kinds of skills." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Devastated doesn't even cover it.

I'm never trusting a cishet writer of queer people again.

For someone who had given up on being happy, of being whole. For someone who only existed for someone else because there was no reason to be alive (I certainly wasn't worth anything beyond the service I could render to others), Izzy Hands gave me hope that it was never too late to be your true self.

He found love, acceptance, and he was beginning to take those tentative few steps towards being whole. He didn't need Ed. He was worth something all on his own.

And they killed him.

They killed the old, disabled queer who had lived a hard, lonely life where his only purpose was to be someone's loyal attack dog, and was finally finding happiness, a family.

"It's about belonging."

"This is a story about queer love, about queer joy."

But not if you're old, disabled, battling with the scars the world has left on you, had to do things to survive. The best you can hope for is to apologise to your abuser and then find peace in death.

Queer joy is only for the right kind of queer.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART FOUR

i'll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

you're not here to play with the locals.

question, kill, then move on.

fail her at your peril.

were i not merciful, i would slice the skin clean from your meat.

i am nothing if not merciful.

tell me: why shouldn't i run you through this instant?

you are nothing until i tell you otherwise.

nothing even approaching a useful thought in that skulll.

it costs me nothing to spare your sorry life.

i required your silence and you made me a mockery.

save your anger for the enemies.

i will skewer the jeretic with his own silver sword.

don't trust a word out of her mouth.

you were supposed to rush to my defense.

fat lot of good you are.

she could shoot fireworks out of her backside for all i care.

i don't know what just happened any more than you do.

not my usual quarry, not my usual ally.

your faith is your own concern, not mine.

i didn't think you'd react so pragmatically.

in the future, i expect you to be honest.

as if mingling with a horde of goblins wasn't bad enough.

let's do what we have to, then get out of here.

let's not linger in this place any more than necessary.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing.

you bore the pain like a true believer.

i don't think i have the stomach for this.

this place was supposed to be abandoned.

a joy to see a familiar face in such a precarious setting.

a fine mess you landed yourself in.

how better to learn the ways of a people than to live among them.

one should cherish all of nature's bounty, but goblin guts are quite far down the list.

you're a true friend of nature, or perhaps a lunatic.

it's unbecoming to demand honorifics from the one who saved my hide.

you weren't speaking lightly when you said you needed help.

that doesn't mean i can't help.

you have my sincere sympathies.

the magic used is beyond me. it's either not of this world, or so ancient as to be lost to even nature's memory.

the natural order must be protected.

there's no order anymore, only chaos.

chaos is welcome in doses.

i'm practically an expert.

you're either an excellent storyteller or you've experiences something quite exceptional.

i'd be irresponsible not to debunk such a strange claim.

i cannot trust my own mind.

there is great potential within you.

you're looking for solutions in the wrong places.

if we work together, we may turn this around.

until it is found, i will take something precious from you every hour that passes.

silence now, or i will silence you forever.

he's been resilient, but he'll talk.

i will have an explanation, or your head.

i do not wish to spill blood here.

come daylight, we will find a place to end this.

you can accept you're wrong, or we'll be rid of you permanently.

you had every chance to look the other way.

you chose this.

don't expect to be mourned.

she's a liability.

thieves aren't afforded such luxuries.

loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won't you?

imagine what we might achieve if we channeled some of that hostility back at our real foes instead of each other.

[cassieno]

Just a little something about Crowley and Identity, Questions and Journeys. Full text for screenreaders below.

A Gentle Love - Crowley’s Inner Angel

Always an Optimist

Making nebulas, stars, galaxies, imagining gravity and light. He filled millions of pages with his thoughts and ideas. He had a creation.

He had passion. For his work, his future, and his identity. He’s a creator, a thinker, and with the way he looks at his accomplishments also an artist.  

He put the stars in the sky - a Starmaker. “I have worked on this since…well, always.” He did not just make the stars, he himself was made for this. So it is no surprise that at the end of the day, Crowley believes that the universe will look after him. An optimist at heart, even when his skies come crashing down.

Four Letter Words

Good, Nice, Kind, Care, Love

Four letter words to Crowley are words that betray his former identity, betray that he used to be an Angel. Something he doesn’t want to be anymore, or at the very least something he doesn’t want anyone to know he was. After the Rebellion, the War, and the Fall, Crowley knew that he wasn’t who he used to be. Maybe he tried to cling to what he knew, tried to find these distant joys somewhere inside himself. But in the end, and we don’t know when or why, maybe because of Hell’s restrictions, maybe because of a brooding bitterness towards Heaven, he left the Angel he was behind.

Lost, and with no home for the very first time in history, he believed, presumably, that Hell could provide him with new meaning. He had a new name, new clothes, new parts of himself that had scales and a forked tongue, and monstrous voices. He was given a new identity and a new purpose. But even so, the illusion of belonging hadn’t lasted long.

Humanity had been created and within the very first days of their existence, Crowley was confronted with a dilemma. He gave humanity free will, the ability to decide for themselves between good and evil. In Hell’s opinion, he might have done the right thing: Caused trouble. But he wondered, and oh, he never did stop to wonder, to question, if he might have done the good thing. Not the right thing, not the wrong thing: simply the good thing.

It was Crowley’s story repeated in front of his eyes: The awareness of white and black and grey, the consciousness to decide for themselves, led humans to be cast out of the only home they knew. And still, he thought that with this, he might have done the good thing. And it worries him, because Hell, a place he might have believed caught him after his Fall, wouldn’t like it any more than Heaven had liked his inquiries. He always had a mind of his own, a personal moral compass. And he would need to figure out how to follow it wisely.

Outside the walls of Eden, humanity flourished. And he witnessed how humans could disappoint him, but how they could help him, too. When Adam struck the lion to shield Eve, Crowley saw that there was something inside them that was ready to fight for what they loved and treasured. Humanity was on its own side, and he witnessed Heaven and Hell use them like dolls to settle their disputes. It was then that Crowley decided to be on his own side. To go along with Hell as far as he could. And he helped humanity, helped the innocent whenever he dared because maybe he wished that he had accepted the only helping hand that reached out to him in Heaven.

He witnessed the Flood, witnessed the bet about Job, the Crucifixion, the Wars, and the Apocalypse. He moved through it all, in his own ways, and helped from the shadows, stood by himself. And no matter if angel or demon, or nothing or both, one thing carried him to safety, one thing he kept close to his heart, and that was, that no matter what happened, the universe would always look after him.

Peaceful Existence

Crowley may not be the angel Aziraphale once knew, but there is no denying that it is still a part of him. A part he might want to hide away or ignore or forget, but it is there, and he tries to navigate it, tries to find closure. Who he was is as much a part of him as our childhoods are a part of who we are. We might not want to or even be able to remember the abuse, the tears and the heartache, the longing for something we were too young to name. We might try to detach ourselves from it but as we grow and navigate our past, maybe even as we have to move on without any closure, we may find ourselves longing for what little good moments we had.

Crowley might never want to forgive Heaven and God and Hell but maybe he will come to realize that he can feel misplaced, forgotten, and hurt, and still long for the times when things were different. Long for a distance past so far gone that it becomes harder and harder to remember. Maybe he can realize, that accepting the angel he once was, doesn’t mean that he must be happy or grateful for all the horrible and grotesque things that happened to him. He can take what he wants and use it to craft something new and beautiful, something that can grow and heal his inner angel. And he might find that from time to time he can let himself be an angel. He can let himself be all those four letter words, and he can be good without belonging to Heaven.

When he moved on from Heaven to Hell and then to our side, he had found something new. A special feeling of belonging, something he could plunge himself into and fill his identity with. Something peaceful and kind. But when fragile things break, they tend to have sharp edges. And now he is alone once more and by himself. Which proposes the scariest question he ever had to ask: Who is he, all by himself? Without Heaven and Hell and without Aziraphale, what is left of Crowley?

He might find that he is everything he lost before. Heaven, Hell, Aziraphale – all have shaped his identity, and all stay with him even as he finds himself on his own side once more. Crowley contains multitudes, like all of us, and he might never get answers to all his questions, he might never find out who he really is.

Unable to answer his own questions, there will only be more around the corner. But after all, since Crowley never punished anyone for asking questions, why should he punish himself? Maybe this time he doesn’t need answers. He’s an optimist and anyway, the universe will look after him.

After all of us.

[anniebeemine]

Thank you again to @i-live-in-spite for the inspiration for this sister series!!

Spencer never imagined he'd end up where he was now. Dating had never been high on his list of priorities, not because he didn’t want companionship, but because his life was so full of books to be read, killers to be caught, and coffees to be drank that he couldn’t fathom making room for anything else. The thought of balancing a relationship on top of the demands of his job seemed impossible, and, truthfully, he didn't think he was any good at it. His few attempts had always been awkward at best, disastrous at worst.

And then Naomi came into his life.

He hadn’t planned for her—no, she was a surprise, a beautiful, unexpected surprise that turned his world upside down. Naomi was unlike anyone he had ever known. With her came responsibilities and joys he had never imagined he could handle. Suddenly, his priorities shifted. Dating, which had once been a distant thought, became even less of a consideration. How could he possibly think about going on dates or forming a relationship when he had someone as precious as Naomi to care for?

Spencer poured his energy into her, every waking moment spent ensuring she had everything she needed. He was meticulous in his efforts, seeking out the perfect books to nurture her curiosity, often losing himself in the shelves of libraries and bookstores. It was in one of those libraries that everything changed. He had been so focused on finding just the right book for Naomi, his legs burning from hours of squatting to reach the lower shelves, that he didn’t notice when she quietly wandered off, her tiny fingers brushing along the spines of books as if mimicking what she'd seen in movies.

Naomi’s tiny fingers danced along the spines of the books, her touch gentle but purposeful, as if she were an old soul lost in her own world. She wandered between the shelves, her bright eyes recognizing the occasional word. It was a small library, but to her, it felt like a kingdom of endless possibilities.

She spotted a thick book on a lower shelf, something about the cover drawing her in. She reached for it with determination, and after a bit of a struggle, she finally had it in her hands. Remembering what they had taught her at school, she fished a little wooden paint stick from her pocket—something she had picked up at a craft store with Spencer—and carefully slid it between the pages to hold her place. She was so engrossed in her task that she didn’t notice you watching her until you spoke.

“How old are you?” your voice was gentle, curious.

Naomi looked up, startled, finding you towering over her. She narrowed her eyes slightly, as if assessing whether you were friend or foe, then confidently replied, “Five. Names Naomi.”

You smiled, gently plucking the book from her hand before she could protest. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you saw the title. “I think ‘Twilight’ might be a little out of your age range.”

Naomi crossed her arms and pouted, her bottom lip jutting out defiantly. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh,” you retorted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You immediately felt a little silly, realizing you had just argued with a five-year-old. But Naomi seemed undeterred, her expression only growing more determined.

“It’s about vampires,” you added, trying to justify your point.

Naomi didn’t miss a beat. “I watch Vampirina on Disney Junior,” she countered, her voice full of the confidence only a child could muster.

You couldn’t help but laugh, charmed by her spunk. “Touché,” you conceded, handing the book back to her.

Naomi accepted it with a triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with victory. She turned on her heel and walked back toward the shelves, clutching the book to her chest like a prized possession. It was at that moment that Spencer finally caught up to her, his breath a little ragged from searching.

“She’s a handful, isn’t she?” you said, smiling as you watched Naomi carefully place the book on what you assumed to be their pile.

Spencer sighed with a mix of exasperation and relief, his eyes softening as they landed on Naomi. “You have no idea.”

But as he turned to you, his expression changed, something in your presence grounding him, making him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t in this alone. And in that moment, something shifted in him—a spark of connection, a flicker of hope that he hadn’t felt in years.

Spencer adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit that only seemed to kick in when he was truly flustered. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he stood there, searching for the right words to say. You were still smiling at him, that same kind smile that had sent his heart into a flutter moments earlier. He wasn’t used to this, to feeling so tongue-tied.

“So, um…” he began, shifting on his feet, “I, uh, I really appreciate you finding Naomi. She, uh, she can be quite adventurous.”

You waved off his thanks, your own cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh, it was nothing, really. She’s a sweetheart—very independent, I can tell.”

Spencer nodded quickly, eager to agree. “Yes, she’s… she’s definitely independent. A little too much sometimes,” he added with a soft chuckle.

The two of you stood there for a moment, each of you wanting to say something more but unsure of how to begin. The silence stretched on just long enough to make it awkward.

“So—” you both started at the same time, then stopped, laughing as you realized it.

“You first,” Spencer said quickly, gesturing for you to go ahead.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand as if to shoo his words toward you.

He shook his head, still smiling. “I insist, really, you—”

“Please,” you cut in, “I’m sure what you have to say is much more interesting.”

Spencer’s smile grew wider, his nerves melting away a little as he realized you were just as flustered as he was. “I highly doubt that,” he said, his tone playful. “But, okay, um… I just wanted to say that I think it’s really great how you… how you, uh, inter-“

Naomi’s groan cut him off, loud and dramatic, as she flopped onto the floor and rolled into a somersault. “Can we go now?” she whined, clearly unimpressed by the adult conversation.

You both turned to look at her, and then back at each other, trying not to laugh. Spencer, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, was the first to break the silence. “Right, of course… I should probably get her home.”

As you hurriedly scribbled your number on the back of a blank coloring sheet, you felt a rush of nervous excitement. You weren’t usually the type to make such bold moves, but something about Spencer—and maybe a little about Naomi—made you want to take a chance. You folded the paper carefully and called out to him just as he and Naomi were starting to walk away.

“Hey!” you said, catching his attention.

He turned, surprised, and you stepped closer, holding out the paper. “In case Naomi needs any more book recommendations,” you said with a smile that hinted at something more.

Spencer hesitated for a second, then took the paper from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in the process. “Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of gratitude and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name.

With a final nod, he and Naomi headed toward the checkout counter. As Spencer helped her place her chosen books on the counter, Naomi chattered away, completely unaware of the significance of the small piece of paper tucked into Spencer’s pocket.

The librarian rang up their books, and they were soon on their way, stepping out into the warm afternoon sun. Spencer’s mind was still buzzing from the encounter, the folded paper feeling like it weighed a ton in his pocket, even though it was light as air.

Naomi skipped beside him, her usual curiosity bubbling up as they walked. After a few moments of silence, she glanced up at him, her big eyes full of mischief. “Dad?”

He looked down at her. “Yes, Omi?”

“Are you in love?” she asked suddenly, her voice matter-of-fact, as if she were asking about the weather.

Spencer nearly tripped over his own feet, startled by the bluntness of the question. “W-what?” he stammered, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep shade of pink.

Naomi giggled, delighted by his reaction. “You’re blushing! That means yes!”

Spencer tried to regain his composure, shaking his head. “No, Naomi, it’s… it’s not like that. I’m just—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just—uh, it’s complicated.”

Naomi tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. “You like her,” she stated with the certainty of a child who had seen more than she let on.

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to deny it. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Naomi grinned, pleased with herself. “I knew it! You were looking at her all funny, like in the movies.”

Spencer sighed, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice. “Naomi, remember when we talked about inside thoughts?”

She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. “You’re no fun. Uncle Derek would find me funny.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Uncle Derek would have you running laps around the block if you kept that up.”

Naomi giggled at the thought, clearly imagining herself sprinting in circles while Derek cheered her on. “But then he’d take me for ice cream after.”

“Only if you promised not to spill the beans about his top-secret missions,” Spencer teased, knowing how Derek always framed his workouts as undercover ops to make them more exciting for Naomi.

Naomi stayed quiet for just a moment, thinking it over. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she looked up at Spencer. “So… are you gonna take me for ice cream?”

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief at how quickly she’d turned the tables on him. “Nice try, Naomi. We’re going home.”

“Rats,” she muttered, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But her disappointment didn’t last long. Naomi looked up at Spencer with a sly smile. “But maybe next time?”

Spencer chuckled, giving her a gentle nudge. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep all inside thoughts to yourself.”

Naomi grinned, a twinkle of mischief still in her eyes. “Deal.”

Spencer finally looked down at the stack of books in his hands, his brow furrowing as he noticed one of the titles. “Did we just check out Twilight?”

Naomi beamed up at him, completely unfazed. “Yup! You were too busy being in love to notice.”

Spencer groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Naomi, this is definitely not age-appropriate.”

“But I told you, I like vampires!” she protested, her eyes wide and pleading.

Spencer sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “Fine, but we’re reading it together, and I’m going to skip anything that isn’t suitable, okay?”

Naomi nodded eagerly, already imagining how much fun it would be to read with Spencer, even if he did skip the “good” parts.

[hail-brod]

Smile, Smile. 2

Gwen Stacy x FReader

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Gwen promised to herself that she would be sweeping you off your feet with elation the moment she sees you again. Well, a year of her disappearing into dimensions didn't sit quite well for the both of you. Or not.

Gwen was finally back home, in her own universe and this time she makes sure that she didn’t end up in a different one. A repeat of what happened to Miles the first time was disastrous as it is.

One call for her father was all it took before she was met by his paused form from the kitchen and not like before, he looked to be doing fine. For a second Gwen thought she did actually end up in a different universe but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, her shoulders sagged in relief.

“Welcome back.”

She didn’t waste a second to run up to his arms for a fairly long embrace.

Everything up to now was tough. Her father was one of the many important things in her life and she almost tried to abandon that warmth after her best friend’s death. It feels as though, she had lost hope on the people that was close to her but deep down inside, there was only one thing she wanted- and that was for them to understand her.

She was no longer a stray spider, webbing her way into one universe after another. This is where she belonged and she’ll cherish her time wisely because there is only one sole universe that she can call home. And she has one purpose that she intends to do. One of the many reasons that made her long to go back. That have always been nagging her mind ever since she was pushed in the light of things about your variants.

Your variants. Your other selves.

In some other dimension, you were dead. In some, you were alive and well. And in some, you were hopelessly trying to live until it does eventually start to swallow you whole.

You hid so many things with that same, damn. fucking. smile.

Gwen had so many questions about why. Why were you hurting? Why were you suffering? She wanted to know and it proved to be hard to find herself meddle about your life’s experiences. With Lyla’s help in gathering data about you, she came to understand some more things. You always know how to mend that perfect smile, easy to fool anyone with how optimistic it looks, until one certain thing happens that would crack your display as it will leave room for the following things that was meant to always happen to you. It was a part of your existence, and what lies behind your façade is your struggle to look at the brighter side of things.

And one major event that always happen is when you lose your one and only anchor in life, your older sibling.

Death would always play a big part on things and she hates it. Like a phase in life that no one can escape, but that’s life trying to overthrow the joys of living. Getting through it is never easy but there are always times that will make way for a new start. She believes that. There will always be someone that’ll come to wipe the tears away and someone that’ll crumble the walls down.

And Gwen doesn’t give a shit if she wasn’t fated to be by your side. She damn well knows what she wants and she won’t resist anymore, because you were her anchor when she felt like tearing the world apart.

Even her little crush on you seemed to bloom into something more. If she cared so much about you before—that that was clear enough when her mind was always finding ways to think of you—then now, it seems like she values nothing else but making your smile truer than you want it to be. She’ll be a friend to you even if she harboured feelings to you that you might not accept. She’ll be someone you can rely on whenever you’re at your lowest.

She’ll be the one to see the widest smiles that you can show.

She knows she’d been only speculating from different variants of you and she might be wrong in assuming your situation, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try to make things better. She has knowledge that she can put to use and she’s not about to waste a second in pondering over it. Way before knowing anything, you were not just someone she admired, you were also her friend. There’s no way something like canon can stop her. She learned that the hard way.

But there is one problem she has to face.

She has been away for a year

How would you feel about her suddenly appearing out of nowhere and being all buddy-buddy with you? She’d never really warn you about going away for quite a long time and she feels like a jerk for not doing so. How were you doing? Did you already forgot about her? Do you still consider as a friend? How funny is that when all this time she has been thinking about you throughout different dimensions then comes back to find out that you might’ve already been out of her reach.

It unnerves her, making her stomach churn.

She just hopes that isn’t the case.

But then, she almost paled when she discovered you haven’t been going to classes for the past few days. Her anxiety boiled within her like an incoming eruption of regret, and despair was about to fill her heart. She didn’t want to believe anything her mind whispers to her nor the uncanny way they mocked her for failing to be by your side.

“Gwen?” Then you called.

 

She can only frown at the voice. It was so familiar she immediately turned to look behind her. And you were standing there, alive and….well.

Were you?

But she could only freeze on the spot while she took in your sudden appearance (considering she was supposed to be the sudden one), a moment spent to readjust her thinking process that, you were there. Every inkling feeling of dread was washed down the drain once she completely realized that she hasn’t lost you. She wasn’t too late. Your shocked look was what she saw first- but that faded away when Gwen saw how your shoulders tensed down at the sight of her.

Then you smiled.

That same damn smile. Still blinding and enthralling. But she couldn’t help but doubt the honesty in your expression. Because she knows. Then again, she didn’t want to assume.

“You remember me.” Her stiff shoulders relaxed, chuckling lightly. “I thought you’ve already forgotten about me after a year.”

“What are you saying?” You frown, a hint of disbelief in your tone. “I may not have the best memory but you have left quite the impression on me, Gwen Stacy.”

Then you chuckle back before asking. “How…How have you been?”

Gwen stares at you. You were…lighthearted. From this simple reunion with you, it was hard not to think about how you actually feel but then, you hit her with the impression of an easygoing girl who has been nothing but peachy.

Scratch that. If she’s going to keep being a worrywart, that’s surely only going to make you feel obligated. She had one purpose and that is to be a close friend to you that you can lean on anytime.

“I’m quite fine actually.” She replies with a gentle smile. “Look, [Y/N], sorry about disappearing on you. I don’t want to give you excuses but- I just don’t want you to think that I left without thinking about you.” Gwen breathes out.

You find yourself speechless at her words before blinking. “Oh- Wha- H-Hey, no big deal. It’s fine really. I understand where you’re going with that and I’m not mad about it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

Gwen only gives you a pointed glance, observing your slight frantic form, still smiling at her genuinely that she can’t help but stare longer. No matter how many times she told herself that you were an angel, she still can’t wrap it around her head how forgiving you can be. Though, she won’t just let herself get away from a simple forgiveness just because you were too nice. She wants you to know how much she regrets leaving you for a year and she’s not backing down.

Smiling, she retorts. “Well, whether you like it or not, I’m going to annoy you every single day from now on. I’m back now and you’re the only one that I can really think of in this entire school so….beware.”

Giggling, Gwen locks her arm with yours as you could only look up to her with round eyes and gaping lips. Your visible shock wasn’t all that exaggerated but it was enough for Gwen to see the transition when you eventually cracked up a small laugh out of your lips.

Gwen’s heart swelled.

“I think… I don’t have a problem with that.” You commented, bringing out a modest smile. Though, she surely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed. Then you look at her with something that seemed so soft than your usual gaze. “Welcome back, Gwen.”

As simple as those words coming from your lips, it was enough to make her heart pound for you more. But she contains it- she tries.

“Only for you, [Y/N].” She says without hesitating.

Was that too much? Did she sounded like she was flirting?

Her thoughts wanted to spiral out of control but by that time, it was unavoidable to feel the rising embarrassment up her cheeks and one last resort she could only think of was drag you deeper in the halls of your school. She likes to think that she handled that quite smoothly but she knows she faltered and flinched at how she acted out.

Awkward, maybe.

But fortunately, when Gwen sneakily glanced at you- she pretended she didn’t just see how you meekly shifted your gaze away from her as your face burned darker in red.

Oh.

She can feel her pride rising up.

Even if that gives her some sort of hope for a higher relationship with you, she’s going to set that aside…for now. After all, being friends with you has always been one of the many things she came to cherish.

.

You liked Gwen.

She was…a great friend. She was someone you never thought would be willing to stick by your side; longer than you’d expect. You saw her as someone that’s so easygoing and a good-hearted person. But on the contrary, some of the people you know say the opposite views about her.

Gwen Stacy.

The girl that you only saw in the corridors of your school and a schoolmate that you never really paid much attention to. She was just someone that you knew from afar, her name mentioned here and there from a few of your other friends, the common and casual way of hearing about someone. You never judged her based on the whispers and gossips that the other students would mumble about because you simply didn’t want to be that kind of person who adheres to baseless claims of people they clearly didn’t knew anything about. So when you got to meet her personally, you didn’t threw her under the bus.

You didn’t really care much if your judgments were to be proven wrong but the fact that Gwen herself was the one to approach you was enough for you to accept her friendship.

But at the end, you thought it was only going to be a one-time friendly interaction that will eventually fade after a few weeks. You knew people didn’t found you interesting enough to stick by and it was always the case with everyone you knew.

You never had deep connections with others and you weren’t aware you could actually do. People will always leave no matter what the stakes are and you’ve come to accept that as the norm.

But you were wrong.

Gwen proved you wrong. For as much as many times you see each other at school, hallways, library or even bathroom—she never failed to give you attention and acknowledge your presence as if you were the most interest thing she had ever seen that day. Her smiles greet you with so much elation that you never really came to acknowledge how different she makes you feel. How gentle she taps unto the corners of your mind and that in a single moment, you’ve considered her as a friend that you never had.

In no time, you became fond of her.

Though, neither of you tapped into closer bonds. Or more like, you feel that Gwen was holding herself back. And that pinched something inside your heart.

But the more the days went by with her distancing herself from you, the more you feel like- that was it. You really thought you could have the one single thing you have always wanted. That one belonging feeling you’ve always wanted to experience with a peer that can understand and share whatever feelings or sentiments you genuinely want to show. A newborn fear enraged itself inside you and it felt like...you were being dragged down deeper in the hells of your mind.

Then…

You never saw Gwen again.

You never thought you were capable of feeling a different kind of ache in your heart after that, leaving a crack that you didn’t know would fare far worse in the future.

At least, supposedly.

Because when you recognized her back facing you, blonde hair with an undercut on the side, your heart almost leaped out of your chest.

That day…...you genuinely smiled.

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Ko-fi?

[archiveikemen]

'Villain Wants To Bother The Little Robin' Story Event: Chapter 1

Jude Jazza & Ellis Twilight Route

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Victor: Kate… will you play the role of Her Majesty the Queen?

Kate: … It’s for a mission, right? Please tell me the details.

Victor: Ahh, what a quick response! You’ve grown so much as a fairytale writer, I… I…!

Victor: Emotional moment aside, you’re right, it’s for a mission.

Victor: An American ambassador is coming for a visit. According to our intel, there is word that he is planning an assassination attempt.

Kate: That’s a very serious issue… and therefore, I will be a stand-in for Her Majesty?

Victor: Yes. Jude and Ellis will be your bodyguards.

Kate: Why the two of them specifically…?

(Apart from Ellis, I don't think Jude would want to be “my bodyguard”.)

Victor: They’re experienced in handling violent situations. Should the ambassador carry out the assassination attempt, I believe they will be able to deal with it well!

(... They do seem capable of handling such situations smoothly…)

Kate: What exactly should I do as Her Majesty?

Victor: You will be receiving gifts, and have dinner at the evening banquet.

Victor: Basically, you only have to graciously accept the gifts presented to you.

Victor: The ministers will be present as well, so it’s OK for you to leave the complicated conversations to them.

Kate: Simply put, I just have to dress as Her Majesty and sit there… am I right to say that?

Victor: Yes! Her Majesty prefers to be quiet, so it’ll be alright if you remain silent.

Victor: Your voice sounds different from Her Majesty’s, which might raise suspicion. The two of them will follow up accordingly.

Victor: I understand that asking you to be a decoy is a difficult request… but you’re the only person who understands the situation enough to do so.

Victor: Will you accept the task?

(This proves that he trusts me as a fairytale writer. Moreover, Her Majesty's life is at stake here.)

Kate: Yes, I’ll do my best.

(Jude is a sadist who finds joy in tormenting others.)

(If I become indebted to him, there’s no knowing what he’ll demand for as payment. I can't afford any slip ups.)

(Ellis is kind and will do anything to make other people happy, but…)

(Because he will really do “anything”, I have to be careful so that he won't go overboard.)

(At any rate, in order to ensure that this mission will be successful without any troubles, I shall focus only on being a stand-in for Her Majesty.)

Kate: Victor, could you tell me more about Her Majesty's mannerisms? Such as her habits or anything that makes her unique.

Victor: …

Victor: Of course. I’ll tell you as much as I can.

After receiving some acting tips from Victor, I holed myself up in the library.

I wanted to learn a little bit about the royal family, the names and faces of the ministers, and the history of America and England…

…

(In the end, it feels like the more I study, the more overwhelmed I feel about my lack of knowledge. It made me feel more hopeless…)

I wore a crown, a veil that covered my face up to my chin, a pair of shoes to disguise my height, and an elegant gown.

I was already feeling defeated.

Jude: You fell asleep in the library, commoner.

Ellis: I’m glad you didn't catch a cold.

Kate: …!

Jude and Ellis stood on either side of me, laughing as if they had read my mind.

Kate: By any chance, was it… the two of you who covered me with a blanket?

Ellis: Yeah. Because you looked cold.

Kate: Thanks, Ellis.

Ellis: Jude pushed you back upright when you were about to slip off the table… with his knee.

Jude: That was because you were a hindrance.

Kate: Kicking a sleeping lady…

Jude: Calling some kid who played sleeping beauty in the library a “lady”? Don’t make me laugh.

Jude: You must’ve been working that little commoner brain of yours in your own way. How great.

Ellis: Mm-hmm. You’re studying hard to pull off pretending to be Her Majesty. You’re very great.

The former was entirely sarcasm, while the latter was a genuine and innocent compliment.

My facial muscles were confused about what facial expression to make.

(A- Anyway…)

Kate: I’ll be under your care for the next two days.

Jude: Decoy means someone who’s willing to die in another person’s place. Long story short, it’ll cost you your life.

Jude: … As long as the assassins are dealt with, it doesn't matter even if you die. Peace of cake.

Ellis: Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.

Ellis: I’m no good at politics and diplomacy… but I’m good at sensing when there are knives and bullets coming my way.

Ellis: I’ll do my best to support you so won’t have a hard time.

Kate: I… I’ll do my best too.

If Jude were something that’s tongue burning spicy, then Ellis would be sweet as sugar.

Being stuck in between time gave my heart no time to calm down.

(I wonder how Ellis is working for Jude.)

(Even though Jude isn’t the type of person to let people come close to him, he always has Ellis by his side.)

I remembered hearing that they worked together because of a contract.

(What on earth does that contract entail…?)

Jude: A commoner posing as the Queen will be easily exposed and gotten rid off.

Kate: Will Jude be able to do well as the Queen’s bodyguard with that sort of attitude and manner of speech?

Ellis: Jude is surprisingly capable of proper behaviour in public.

Jude: You might not know this, but this guy is crazy.

Kate: In what way…?

Ellis: Who knows? :)

Jude: You’ll find out soon enough.

(Are you saying that Ellis is no better at being a bodyguard than you? … Seems to me that it's the other way around.)

Ellis: … Hey, Jude, Kate.

Jude: Ah?

Kate: Yes?

Ellis: I have a suggestion—

Ellis: Let’s make a deal whereby if we succeed in this mission without having our identities exposed, we’ll fulfil one request from each other… what do you think?

(Fulfil each other's requests after completing the mission?)

Jude: What’s with that meaningless suggestion?

Ellis: I’m thinking of how to make this mission more enjoyable for Kate.

Ellis: What do you think…?

(So that’s what Ellis is thinking…)

I realised that since this morning, I had been unknowingly weighed down by the burden of wearing the crown.

(... Ellis is really good at telling how someone is feeling.)

Kate: Thank you, Ellis. We’ll do that!

Ellis: Fufu, then it’s decided.

(... Hm? But I heard him say “each other”...)

(I’ll have to grant requests from Jude and Ellis…)

Jude: … Just endure it as much as possible. I’ll be watching you make a fool of yourself while thinking of what “request” I’ll make you fulfil.

Ellis: Me too, I’ll be… thinking about what “request” will make you happy.

Seeing the two very different smiles, my facial muscles were once again unsure about what facial expression to make.

...

Chamberlain: The ambassador from America, Abel Edmund, has arrived.

The chamberlain loudly announced the ambassador's arrival, and the door to the audience hall opened slowly.

(... It’s happening.)

Jude and Ellis stood on guard behind me.

“Why did Her Majesty choose to be guarded by two unknown men, instead of the royal guards?” When I first entered the hall, I could hear the ministers whispering amongst themselves, however…

(Just one glare from Jude made their complaining cease immediately.)

(When Ellis smiled at them, the number of insolent stares decreased as well.)

(With the two of them around, my life will definitely not be in danger… it’ll be alright.)

I straightened my back and lifted my chin, fixing my posture according to what I learnt from Victor.

(I must focus on maintaining a regal attitude while acting as Her Majesty in front of the ambassador.)

Abel: I am greatly honoured to have been given the privilege of an audience with Your Majesty!

The ambassador was a man with teeth that glimmered in the light, and a smile as bright as the sun.

(Wow… he’s more frank than I thought.)

Maintaining my majesty, I nodded silently in response to his greeting.

Ellis: He looks lively.

Jude: Even if he keeps quiet, his face makes a heck lot of noise.

(P- Please don’t make me laugh!)

The point-blank commentary coming from the two of them standing behind me clearly stated their impressions of him.

Abel enthusiastically presented the various items he had brought with him as tribute.

(Even with a veil on, these items are dazzling…)

Once again, I felt overwhelmed by Her Majesty's power and influence as proven by the extravagance of the treasures gifted to her.

Abel: We have here an extremely rare avian species boasting feathers with vibrant colours. Its beauty is further enhanced by the magnificent sight of its outstretched wings.

Abel took a large bird resembling a parrot from its cage,

Abel: Please, have a look— ah!?

The parrot suddenly lifted its head and flew out of Abel’s hand.

(It’s coming this way!?)

Jude • Ellis: —!

[futurewriter2000]

Something Universal - pt. 1

A/N: I was just listnening to an Audiobook that really highlights subconsciousness and spiritual laws and I thought how cool would it be if Professor Trawlaney had a daughter that is very similar to her. I also am at the seaside and have literally nothing else to do than waste my phone battery and read.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

XX

When it comes to unseen, invisible and unknown power of the Universe, people like to turn a blind eye. People, Muggles, Wizards and Witches run from the universal power, simply because they cannot accept that there is something more powerful than them.

You’ve transformed yourself to suit other people’s beliefs but the urge, the curiosity in you just didn’t let you be that.

You were the apple of your mother’s eye, witty, beautiful and spiritual. You’ve never shown any gift of seeing beyond the third dimension but you have tried. You have tried so many practices but it just wasn’t in you. The gift just didn’t descend and though you were frustrated, you were also relieved. A part of you wanted to carry on your mother’s legacy, another part was relieved you wouldn’t witness the horrors the gift can bring.

Your mother was the greatest mother to be. Your childhood was brought up in muddy feet and much joy-brought adventures. There was so much light in your child years, where you can remember painting freely with your fingers, shaped cut out potatoes, sponges, brushes and anything your eye could find. Every single moment with your mother was colourful and happy- as if every day was a holiday, something worth celebrating. Your mother always asked you, each and every day, what were you thankful for and your answers were easily answered; the food, the grass, the rainy day so the two of you could spend time inside, cleaning with music on, dancing and especially… her.

Until- just a few years before your Hogwarts admission a tall, magnificent man walked into the house.

*flashback*

“Professor Dumbledore. To what do I owe this visit?” your mother smiled through an unexpected surprise.

“Mrs. (y/l/n), good day. May I come in?” He gestured, flicking his eyes to you and seeing a small glint in it. Back then your mother still had your father’s last name… all before this day.

Your father stepped in front of you, tall as he was also magnificent, he smiled and held your chin in his large hand. He smiled gently, reassuringly. He brushed his thumb over your cheek before walking to the visitor. “Professor Dumbledore, to what do we owe this late pleasure of the evening?” He smiled widely, showing his famous, charming smile.

“Well, I come on some private business- the one I think is meant for more adult ears.” He said as he walked to you, squatting to your level.

Though he was, he still intimidated you with his presence. You could almost feel the strength of his aura, blasting you away with it but you stood firmly on the ground. “You’ve got strong magic in yourself, miss. I hope you will bless our magical school with it.”

This time it was your mother that stepped in front of you, blocking the view with her long skirt. Her eyes weren’t surprised anymore, they were protective. “Go to your room, (y/n).”

And with that you ran up stairs and stopped at the end to listen. You knew you should go to your room. Your mother’s voice changed tone only when she was serious, when that was on very rare occasions.

You still stayed and listened- your intuition told you so. Your ears missed most of Dumbledore’s proposal but your mother and father talked loud and clear enough for you to hear.

“I do know I owe you my education, professor but I do not wish to tap into the future for your purposes- not for what you are about to ask me.”

“Your gift, Mrs. (Y/l/n), is extremely rare in this world. It is not to simply tell the future, it’s the prophecy of the war.”

“Exactly, the prophecies do not work as readings. They have their own power- they are simply dangerous to mind and soul.” She said frustrated and you could feel your father comforting her.

“I know of prophecies.” Said Dumbledore. “ I know I ask many of you but I also offer you, no matter the consequences or results, you and your family will be taken care of.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning your daughter would be under my protection if her gifts develop as yours did.” He said. “And this has been a thought as well before my proposal but I will be in a need of a Divination class when the old centaur retires.”

“That is wonderful news.” Your father exclaimed and you could see the smile on his face. It wasn’t easy to forget. “Sybill…” he pleaded. “Think of our little girl- wouldn’t you want to know that she is safe in the near future? In this world… in this war…” his voice got quieter.

“I never want to read into her future…” she said and you smiled because she promised you she would never and you knew you were safe forever.

*end of flashback*

Yet she did. Arguments after arguments with your father, who pleaded for stability, meanwhile your mother pleaded for safety. Your father reassured her how strong she is, that nothing can break her, not this prophecy, since she had survived many before. But she was weary, your mother, because becoming cocky didn’t belong into her character and she was afraid.

But what was one more prophecy. She promised him this one, the last one, and never again. She did not want to put the mother of her child in danger. To lose herself, you as well.

And you knew, you felt it. Something was in the air that day. It was and you knew it was a bad thing to do but she smiled and reassured you. You pleaded with your father, but he cupped your chin as always, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and he smiled. It worked like a charm. You were safe. You were always safe.

Until you were proven right.

Your mother wasn’t your mother no more. You lost her slowly. The day after, she felt “under the weather” but one day turned into one month soon after. She was pale like the wall behind her. She had no shine whatsoever.

Nothing was happy and colourful after that day. Your father tried but he never did his safe movement. He smiled but his eyes never did. Must have been the guilt.

You tried but it was like talking to a stranger.

Your mother almost went blind from the prophecy, so your father made sure she got the prescripted glasses, which took all of her facial features. Her whole appearance changed and you knew, your father didn’t recognise her as well. But he tried and he tried until there came a day when he saw the burdon it took upon you.

“I am thankful for today’s sun.” You said just before you were turning 11. You took her hand but she moved it away, her eyes bulging through those horrible glasses. Your heart broke and you could feel something hard form in your throat. “I went out to buy some school supplies with dad… we had fun so I am thankful for that too…” your voice starting to wander off as you realised you are talking to a stranger.

“That’s wonderful, dear.” She said as if she knew who you were. “And your mum?” She asked and you felt tears form in your eyes. “Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you. Is she not in the picture.”

You smiled through the tears. Memory loss was present for a few months now but still you weren’t used to it. “She’s not herself lately. She couldn’t come.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” She said, her voice wandering off as she looked into the sky. She then looked at you, confused and disoriented. “Dear… where am I exactly?”

And that was pretty much the last normal conversation you had. She had her memory of her childhood and her life at Hogwarts but you and your father were very much out of the picture.

Your father felt guilty for it. You knew. He wasn’t himself and he took up drinking. It was your auntie, his sister, that sobered him up and he turned to be hard as a rock. The guilt was there… but he hid it behind a hard exterior. He said he had to be tough for the both of you but the truth was, you needed him to be soft again. You needed his smile, his gentle hand raising your chin up when everything felt low. That never happened.

Now you sat in the Divination class, looking at your mother scrambling her things into her large purse and silently talking to herself.

You smiled… you smiled because she did that whether she was crazy or not and that comforted you. It did. It gave you hope that maybe she was still in there- after all these years.

“Khm…” you heard somebody behind you and you turned around, startled.

There was a completely different lightning when you spun around and you couldn’t see whether there was a brown-haired boy- no, red-haired, looking down onto you or a tree, taller than ever.

Until he squatted down to your level, his brown comforting eyes setting on yours and his smile, charming as ever. The feeling of seeing his face felt almost familiar… felt warm. “Thought you might now that the class is over.” He spoke softly and you smiled just as back.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” You said, scrambling your things as well and holding tightly onto your bag. “I just got lost in thought.” You got onto your feet and almost knocking yourself down as your foot got stuck onto the robe.

His hand placed itself on your waist, pulling you slightly back up. Despite that you didn’t fall, he was still ready to catch you.

He removed his hand to avoid discomfort but he eyed your mom and grinned. “Spoke to her about my last assignment. Let me go easy for not turning it in.” He said as he gestured your hand to walk in front of him.

You kindly took to gesture.

“I saw you sitting up there, thought you might entered some universal state from the way your eyes were fixated on the professor.” He said and you felt your cheeks flush from embarrassment.

“Like I said… I got lost in the train of thought.” You replied.

“Yeah, thought I might do a good deed there and check if you were alright.” He smiled and you let out a short laughter.

“No wish to go to hell?” You eyed him.

“That wish evaporated a long time ago.” He whistled for the effect and both of you laughed. “You seem to admire her though… professor Trawlaney, I mean.” He said and you stopped to look at him. “I saw it in your eyes when I looked up. Usually, people-“

“People are cruel.” You finished for him. “And she does have a special place in my heart.” You continued to walk slowly. Nobody knew she was your mother, not even the staff in this school… nobody except the Headmaster and your father. “And that’s the truth.”

He stopped at the intersection and continued to look at you. “Something… something…” he started but it was as if he was lost for words.

“Something what?” You laughed.

“I can’t put words together but something about you…”