#but they faked it out and he's alive so- Reunion has to happen or these games can die | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

julietsf1 · 2 months ago

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Hurricane - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: When a hurricane leaves Y/N stranded at Charles’s Monaco apartment with a few of his friends, Y/N has to navigate both the storm outside and the one brewing inside. (5k words)

AN: The absolute confusion I had when I saw a hurricane warning from my government yesterday (I live in south of France); they later changed it to a regular storm warning, as it was a mistake but it did inspire me to write a lil something :) Hope you all have a lovely day cuties <3

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The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the wide-open balcony doors, casting a golden hue over Charles’s perfectly pristine Monaco apartment. I sat cross-legged on the plush rug, sipping wine and admiring the explosion of shopping bags Alexandra and I had managed to accumulate during our day out. Monte Carlo had definitely been kind to us, and the light buzz from the wine wasn’t hurting either.

“I swear, you have this insane ability to sniff out the best deals,” I said, holding up a silk scarf I knew I’d never wear but had bought anyway. “How do you do it?”

Alexandra, always composed, gave me a sly smile from where she lounged on the couch, a glass of wine cradled effortlessly in her hand. “It’s all about instinct. Plus, I had to keep up with you. You were like a woman possessed.”

“Possessed by a very stylish demon,” I quipped, draping the scarf over my shoulder dramatically before laughing. The kind of laughter that happens when you’re a bit tipsy and surrounded by a friend who knows all your quirks.

“I still can’t believe we’ve kept this monthly tradition alive,” Alexandra mused, swirling her wine. “Feels like just yesterday we were running around Paris pretending to understand every art piece in the Louvre.”

I smirked, raising my glass. “Fake it till you make it, right? Look at us now — two very sophisticated, responsible young women.”

Alexandra burst into laughter at that, nearly spilling her drink. “Yes, responsible. Totally why we blew our budgets in today.”

“Hey, this is what reunions are for. Besides, Charles is always dragging you to fancy dinners — we need to keep up appearances.”

“Cheers to that,” Alexandra laughed. These reunions had become a tradition ever since they both left Paris. Shopping, gossiping, and generally pretending they had their lives together for a few days before returning to reality.

“I do wish I could stay longer,” Y/N said, glancing at her watch. “But I’ve got a flight back to tonight.”

Alexandra pouted in a way that could have convinced anyone to cancel their plans. “Come on, just stay for dinner.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I really can’t,” Y/N replied, laughing. “I don’t have a private jet. Air France is not going to wait for me.”

As if on cue, the front door swung open, and there was Charles, as effortlessly polished as ever, with a smile that seemed to say, I’m trying not to stress but also, I’m probably going to stress.

“Bonsoir, ladies,” he greeted, dropping his keys on the counter. “Good day of shopping, I assume?”

“The best,” I grinned, waving a hand over the spread of bags surrounding us. “Your appartment is stunning by the way.”

He smiled, giving a mock bow. “I do what I can You should stay for a bit, a few people are coming over tonight — nothing too crazy. Just some of the guys.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “The guys?”

“Yeah, nothing too big. Just Lando, George, Max, and Franco. A little pre-birthday thing before we head out later.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Alexandra, who was already giving me her classic stay for dinner look. Before I could protest, the apartment door swung open again, and in walked George, looking as composed and proper as ever. His eyes scanned the apartment critically before zeroing in on Charles.

“I still think hiring a private chef is a bit over the top,” George began, without so much as a greeting. “We could’ve managed something ourselves, you know. Is this private chef going to stick to traditional recipes? I’m just saying, none of that modern fusion nonsense. I don’t want to find some deconstructed tartare on my plate. It should be classic and-”

“Hi, George,” I cut in, giving him a pointed look.

He blinked, suddenly remembering that Alexandra and I were present. “Oh, Y/N, Alexandra. Didn’t see you there. Apologies, m’ladies.” He gave a polite nod before turning back to Charles. “Anyway, as I was saying—”

“George, we’ve got it covered,” Charles sighed, looking like he was already regretting inviting his overly particular friend.

Before George could launch into another monologue about culinary disasters, the door swung open again, and Lando breezed in with his signature chaotic energy. He didn’t just walk into a room, he practically exploded into it.

“Ladies, gentlemen, I have arrived!” Lando declared, grinning widely as if he’d just been announced at a royal ball. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me and Alexandra. “Ah, the usual suspects. So, what’s the plan? Dinner, drinks, maybe a little dancing after?”

“That’s the idea,” Alexandra said, raising an eyebrow. “But Y/N is trying to bail for her flight.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in exaggerated shock. “What? Absolutely not. We’re not letting you leave before you at least see how this chef performs under George’s expert critique.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “You’re all ridiculous. I really do need to catch that flight.”

“You’ll miss the best part of the night!” Lando said, leaning back with a knowing grin. “But fine, if you have to go, you have to go.”

As if on cue, the door opened again, and in walked Max — no dramatic entrance, no greetings. He headed straight for the bar, poured himself a gin and tonic, and turned to the group with a small nod, holding up his glass.

“Evening,” he said, like this was all completely normal.

“Hi, Max,” I replied, grinning at his predictable, casual demeanor.

“Y/N. Alexandra,” Max greeted, raising his glass in acknowledgment before taking a long sip, completely unfazed by Lando’s lingering excitement or George’s quiet simmer of judgment.

It didn’t take long for everyone to fall into their usual rhythms. Charles, now somewhat resigned to the chaos, was behind the counter mixing drinks. George, still hovering like a concerned parent, muttered under his breath about the chef’s qualifications. Meanwhile, Lando was already plotting mischief, and Max was sipping his gin as if nothing in the world could faze him.

I found myself laughing at how these gatherings always followed the same unpredictable-yet-predictable pattern. It was hectic, but in the best way. As much as I hated to admit it, I would probably miss it if I left for Paris tonight. But I already had my ticket, urging me to start packing.

As I sat there, mentally preparing to say my goodbyes, the door opened again. In walked someone I didn’t recognize. He moved with a relaxed, almost casual confidence, and instantly, the energy in the room seemed to shift. He didn’t need to announce himself or make a grand entrance like Lando had — his presence was subtle but noticeable.

His hair was slightly tousled, the kind that looked soft and effortlessly styled in that perfectly imperfect way. The moment he smiled, a warm, very cute grin, I felt a brief flicker of something, my heart beating a little faster in my chest. There was something disarming about him. He had the kind of smile that made you feel like you’d known him forever, even though I’d never seen him before.

He stepped closer, his green eyes flicking to me. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and pleasant as he extended a hand.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the easy charm he exuded. It wasn’t forced or showy, just... natural. Recovering quickly, I shook his hand. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Franco,” He held onto my gaze for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot.”

“All good things, I hope,” I replied, trying not to be too obvious as I shot a quick glance at Alexandra, who was absolutely soaking up this moment.

“Always,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes before releasing my hand.

Alexandra didn’t waste a second before giving me that knowing look, the one that practically screamed I told you you should stay. I elbowed her lightly, trying to suppress my smile and the butterflies that were fluttering in my stomach.

Before I could continue the conversation or ask Franco who exactly had been talking about me, Charles’s phone buzzed loudly from across the room. As he glanced down, and the expression on his face shifted so fast it was almost comical — the laid-back vibe of the evening vanished instantly.

“Oh no.”

“What is it?” I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

Charles stared at his phone, his brow furrowed. “It’s a hurricane alert.”

“A hurricane?” Lando immediately perked up, jumping off the couch as if the word itself had given him a burst of energy. “In Monte Carlo?”

Charles nodded, his expression darkening. “Yeah. Whole south of France. All flights are grounded, transportation is suspended and residents must stay inside.”

My stomach sank. “My flight…”

Alexandra, not missing a beat and clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding, sipped her wine and smirked. “Looks like you’re not going anywhere.”

Lando, ever the opportunist, grabbed Charles’s phone from him and squinted at the screen. “Ouragan? That’s the French word for hurricane? That’s got to be a joke.” He wrinkled his nose, making it sound even more absurd than it already did.

Max, sitting comfortably and sipping his gin, raised an eyebrow laughing. “That’s why I live in the Italian speaking part.”

“Lando, right now is not the moment to be critical of the French.” George said, looking concerned.

Charles let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair, now visibly stressed. “Everything’s closed down. We’re stuck here for the night.”

Franco, now fully settled into a chair beside me, shrugged casually. “There are worse places to be stuck,” he said, his voice light, as if we weren’t all just stranded.

I glanced over at him, and he smiled again, that same easy warmth that seemed to make everything feel a little less chaotic. The thought of being stuck suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

Lando, on the other hand, looked positively thrilled. “Guess we’re having a proper night in!” He clapped his hands together, already mentally planning the night ahead.

Meanwhile, George, who had been standing to the side, immediately shifted into problem-solving mode. “We need to secure the windows, check supplies, make sure we have—”

“George, mate,” Max cut in, raising his glass without looking up, “it’s a little hurricane, not the end of the world. We’re fine.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the ridiculousness of the situation beginning to sink in. As subtly as I could, I turned to sneak another glance at the guy next to me. His presence, along with that gentle, easy smile, had a way of making everything else feel a little less chaotic. For a brief moment, the reality of being stuck in here didn’t seem so bad.

It didn’t take long for the mood in the apartment to shift, Lando, of course, was the first to act, bouncing off the couch and making a beeline for the Bluetooth speaker.

“If we’re stuck here, we might as well make it fun!” he declared, pulling out his phone and connecting it to the speaker. Within seconds, upbeat music filled the room as Lando scrolled through his playlist, queuing up tracks to keep the vibe alive. “Max, you in?”

Max, who had been lazily sipping his gin and tonic, grinned and gave a small nod. “Always.”

With the music pumping, it was clear that Lando and Max were determined to turn the situation into a party, despite the looming hurricane. I glanced at Alexandra, who simply shook her head, amused.

Meanwhile, Charles was pacing near the kitchen, still on the phone with the now-stranded private chef. His frustration was evident in the deep sighs he kept letting out. “Yes, I get it. But seriously? Not even a chance? Yeah, okay. Fine. Thanks,” he muttered, hanging up with an exasperated expression. “The chef can’t make it. We’re on our own.”

“That’s our cue,” Alexandra said, standing up and rolling her sleeves. “Y/N, you ready to help me chef it up?”

“Lead the way,” I replied, following her into the kitchen. The ingredients we had weren’t extensive, but Alexandra was already surveying the options with a critical eye, assessing what we could make work. “How about a classic tarte tatin to start and coq au vin for the main course?” she suggested, her eyes gleaming with the challenge.

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re feeling ambitious.”

She smirked. “We’re in Monte Carlo, aren’t we? Let’s do this properly.”

We quickly got to work, but as we gathered ingredients, I could feel someone hovering. Sure enough, George had appeared at the edge of the kitchen, arms crossed, watching us with that critical, calculating look. He looked ready to swoop in at any moment.

“I just want to make sure everything’s going according to plan,” George said, his tone a little too intense for a casual night stuck in a storm. “Are you sure you want to sauté those vegetables at that heat? I mean, it’s important we get the timing just right…”

Alexandra and I exchanged a quick glance, both of us trying not to laugh but also feeling the mounting pressure of George’s constant observations. It wasn’t that he was wrong, but his looming presence was starting to make things awkward.

Before either of us could respond, Franco, who had been leaning against the counter, stepped in with perfect timing. “You know, George, you’re really the only one here who knows how to handle a hurricane situation properly. I mean, I wouldn’t know the first thing about securing an apartment for a storm like this,” Franco said, his voice sincere but with a hint of playful exaggeration.

George, caught off guard, turned to Franco with a raised brow. “Well, thank you for noticing! Finally someone who takes my expertise to heart.”

Franco nodded, widening his eyes slightly as if he were genuinely impressed. “Yes! You’ve got to come up with gameplan, George.”

George’s posture shifted, the critical kitchen gaze giving way to the more pressing issue of hurricane preparedness. “Well, I suppose someone should check the windows… and the doors. And make sure we have everything we need in case it gets worse.”

Franco smiled, giving him a reassuring nod. “Exactly, and you’re the best person for that. Don’t worry about us in here. I’ll make sure everything’s under control while you handle the important stuff.”

George stood a little taller, clearly feeling validated. “Right. I’ll get to it, then.” With that, he turned on his heel and started making his way toward the windows, leaving the kitchen — and us — in peace.

I let out a quiet breath of relief as Franco turned back toward us with a mischievous grin.

Alexandra chuckled, tossing him a knife. “Not bad. We owe you for that one.”

Franco caught the knife easily, giving a mock bow. “Happy to be of service. Need any help? Shall I chop something? Stir?”

I exchanged a glance with Franco, who had already rolled up his sleeves and was looking at the ingredients with a playful grin. “You any good at this?” I asked,

“I’ve got some skills,” he said, flashing that same warm smile from earlier. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll take care of it.”

I blushed a little, which Franco seemed to notice. He let out a soft chuckle, brushing his hand over my lower back as he walked to the other side of the kitchen to grab a cutting board.

As we got deeper into the cooking, Franco’s talkative side started to show. He moved smoothly through the kitchen, cutting vegetables, making jokes, and occasionally breaking into exaggerated commentary about our process.

“You know, this tarte tatin is already looking better than any I’ve ever seen. Michelin-star level for sure,” he said with a grin, watching as I arranged the caramelized apples in the pan.

“Oh, absolutely,” Alexandra chimed in with a teasing tone. “I’m sure we’ll have food critics knocking down the door any minute now.”

Franco raised his hands in surrender, still smiling. “Hey, I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, I now got a backup plan.”

The smell of the coq au vin simmering away filled the apartment, a comforting aroma that seemed to blend perfectly with the upbeat music still playing from Lando’s speaker. Max, now fully entertained by Lando’s ridiculous dance moves, was swaying along with him, both of them taking occasional breaks to sip their drinks and laugh at each other.

I glanced back at Franco as he finished chopping, handing the neatly diced vegetables to Alex. “You’re a natural,” I said, impressed by how quickly he picked up the rhythm of the kitchen.

“Guess you bring out the best in me,” he replied with a wink, and I felt a warmth rise to my cheeks despite myself.

I couldn’t help but smile at that, the stress of the hurricane melting away little by little as we worked. Franco was good at keeping things light, his constant chatter and easygoing attitude making the cooking feel more like fun than an obligation.

After placing the tarte tatin in the oven, I wiped my hands and glanced out toward the rest of the apartment. George was now in full storm-prep mode, diligently checking windows, making sure everything was locked tight, and muttering under his breath about emergency plans. Charles, though still somewhat stressed, had at least stopped pacing and was leaning against the counter, sipping a drink as he watched Lando and Max’s antics.

“Not bad for a last-minute Plan B, huh?” Franco said, standing beside me as he washed his hands at the sink.

“Not bad at all,” I replied, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment as the scents filled the apartment.

Dinner was a success, much to the delight of everyone in the apartment. The tarte tatin had been perfect, golden and crisp, and the coq au vin rich and flavorful, enough to win over even George, who begrudgingly admitted that “for a last-minute dinner, it wasn’t bad at all.”

The energy in the apartment was buzzing, and the storm outside seemed like a distant hum. With Lando’s playlist still thumping in the background, we settled in the living room, everyone lounging comfortably after the meal. But George, predictably, couldn’t handle the idea of sitting idle for too long.

“Right,” George announced, standing up and clapping his hands together. “Now that we’ve eaten, how about some games? We could do something like charades or—”

Max, already sprawled out with his drink in hand, rolled his eyes. “Boring,” he drawled. “Let’s play something fun, like a drinking game.”

Lando’s face lit up immediately. “Now that’s more like it!”

George looked appalled. “A drinking game? We just had dinner!”

“That’s exactly why,” Max said, raising his glass. “Got to flush it down for dessert.”

Lando, grinning ear to ear, was already hopping off the couch. “Alright, but it has to be something chaotic. Max, what’s that one game we talked about? The one from New Girl?”

“True American,” Max replied, slouching further into his chair with a smirk. “That’s the one.”

George frowned. “What in the world is True American?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s a drinking game, but with no clear rules, lots of chaos, and a touch of American history thrown in for fun.”

“And the floor is lava,” Lando added, already rearranging the room, pushing chairs and cushions into strategic positions.

“The floor is… lava?” George echoed, still looking deeply confused.

“Yep! So you have to move from piece of furniture to piece of furniture without touching the ground,” I explained, grinning as I grabbed some throw pillows to use as extra stepping stones.

Franco chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “Sounds like absolute madness.”

“Exactly,” I said, laughing. “You’ll love it.”

Max, now fully invested, sat up slightly. “Also, there are random trivia questions, mostly American history. And whenever someone shouts, ‘JFK!’ you have to drink.”

George raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “None of us are American. Can’t we do a British variant instead?”

“That wouldn’t be fair, mate,” Lando chuckled, stretching out his arms as if preparing for the chaos that was about to unfold. “You’re practically the lovechild of David Attenborough and the Encyclopaedia Britannica.”

“Yeah, at least let’s pick something where we all have an equal chance of winning,” Alexandra added, already on her feet and moving chairs around with an excited bounce. “Let’s call it True F1.”

Charles, who had been quietly observing the conversation from the couch, finally chimed in with a grin. “I’d actually love to see how you guys twist F1 trivia into a drinking game.”

Lando, never one to waste a good opportunity, was already hopping between the coffee table and the armrest of the nearest chair. “Alright! Here’s how it works: the floor is still lava, obviously. But instead of random American history facts, you shout out random F1 facts — the weirder, the better. If someone calls out a track name, you have to switch ‘circuits’, aka furniture, without touching the floor. Got it?”

Max smirked, finishing off his drink. “Sounds ridiculous. I’m in.”

Within minutes, the living room had been transformed into a messy obstacle course of chairs, pillows, and random objects. Lando, the unofficial captain of chaos, had already hopped onto the coffee table, gesturing for everyone to join him.

The game quickly descended into the same kind of chaos that Lando had promised. Max and Charles were the first to yell out random facts.

“Did you know Toto’s real first name is Totoro?” Max announced confidently, clearly just making things up for the fun of it, earning a glare from George.

“Very funny, mate,” Lando called back, leaping onto a chair. “But did you know Michael Schumacher once raced a kangaroo in Australia?”

Charles, balancing on the armrest of the couch, raised an eyebrow, amused but skeptical. “I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen.”

George, meanwhile, looked completely bewildered. “Wait, what? Is any of this true?”

“Doesn’t matter!” Lando shot back, moving to a footstool.

I found myself laughing uncontrollably, trying to maintain my balance as I stood on the armrest of a chair. Franco, standing nearby on the coffee table, reached out a hand to help me jump to the next ‘circuit’ — in this case, a cushion on the floor.

“Careful,” he teased, his hand steadying me. “You don’t want to fall into ‘Turn 13 at Monaco.’ It’s a tricky one.”

“Monaco? I thought we were in Silverstone,” I replied with a grin as I took his hand.

Franco chuckled, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s a complicated circuit.”

As I jumped, I almost lost my balance, wobbling slightly. Franco, quick to react, caught me, his arm wrapping around my waist to steady me. His touch was warm, and as our eyes met, the playful atmosphere between us shifted, feeling suddenlya bit more charged.

“You good?” he asked softly, his smile still warm but with a little more weight behind it.

“Yeah,” I breathed, trying to ignore the blush creeping up on my cheeks. “Thanks.”

I honestly didn’t mind standing like this. For a second, it felt like the rest of the game had faded into the background, the noise dimming around us. But then, just as quickly, Charles shouted from across the room, “Spa-Francorchamps!”

The spell broke. Franco let go, and I hopped onto the next chair, trying to suppress the grin that was forming on my face.

The game continued with more nonsensical facts. Max tried to convince George that Fernando Alonso once moonlit as a matador, while Lando made up a story about Kimi Räikkönen secretly being Oscar Piastri’s dad.

Meanwhile, Alexandra, acrobatically clinging a nearby bookshelf, caught my eye, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “T’as capté? Il te lâche pas du tout.” (Did you catch that? He can’t stop looking at you.)

I laughed, shaking my head. “Arrête…” (Stop…)

She raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. “T’inquiète, ma puce, j’dirai rien... mais c’est cramé!” (Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t say anything… but it’s so obvious!)

We giggled, and across the room, Charles, who had clearly understood the exchange, raised an eyebrow, amused. He didn’t say anything, but his knowing look said enough.

Lando, noticing the laughter but missing the French, put his hands on his hips dramatically. “Oi! What’s going on over there? You two plotting in French again? That’s not fair!”

Alexandra and I burst into laughter, but before I could explain, Lando waved a hand dramatically. “Fine! You know what? Max! We’ll speak Dutch and leave them out.”

Max raised his glass, thoroughly entertained. “Go ahead, mate.”

Lando nodded, puffing up with mock determination. “Absolutely. Let’s go!”

Max leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Alright, your turn.”

Lando furrowed his brow in concentration and attempted his best Dutch. “Uhh… Ik… spreek beetje Nederland… ja?”

Max nearly choked on his gin. “That’s… good effort.”

Undeterred, Lando kept at it, much to Max’s amusement. “Lekker... uh… ja?”

Max waved him off, laughing. “Stop. You’re embarrassing the language.”

The game continued late into the evening, with everyone’s laughter filling the room. Despite the storm outside, the chaos, and the completely nonsensical F1 trivia, it felt like we’d turned the night into something unexpectedly fun.

The night had wound down after hours of conversation, laughter, and chaotic games. The storm outside was still relentless, but inside the apartment, everything felt warm and comfortable. Conversations had softened, and people were beginning to yawn, signaling the end of the night.

Alexandra and Charles were the first to head off, exchanging quiet goodnights before disappearing into their room. The rest of us remained scattered around the living room, tired but still riding the wave of the evening’s energy.

Max, who had been slowly sinking into the armchair with his sixth gin and tonic, stood up, stretched, and made a beeline for the guest room without a word. It was clear he was done for the night. Lando was half-asleep on the larger couch, sprawled out in his usual dramatic fashion, leaving little room for George, who had claimed the other side.

Franco, who had been lounging on the small two-seater sofa, stretched his arms and looked over at me. “Looks like this is my spot for the night,” he said with a grin, patting the cushion beside him. “Not much room, except between Lando and George. You might as well join me.”

I hesitated for a second, but the way he said it — so casual and light, yet with that playful spark in his eyes — made it clear that the offer wasn’t just about space. The tension between us was undeniable.

I smirked, feigning reluctance. “Alright, but if you take up all the room, I’m kicking you off.”

Franco chuckled softly, shifting over to make space for me. “Deal.”

I sat down next to him, the proximity between us much closer than I had anticipated. The couch was small, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, being close to Franco felt easy, natural. His arm rested across the back of the sofa, and as we settled in, his fingers lightly brushed my shoulder.

We sat there for a moment in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft rumble of the storm outside and the occasional rustling from Lando’s half-asleep movements on the other couch. The apartment had gone from a chaotic whirlwind of noise and laughter to a quiet, almost serene atmosphere.

Franco shifted slightly, his fingers moving gently to stroke my hair. The movement was soft and rhythmic, calming, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. His touch was tender, each stroke of his hand sending a warm shiver through me as I relaxed into the closeness between us.

We didn’t need to say anything. The silence between us spoke volumes, and as the storm continued to rage outside, I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the blankets or the fire. Franco’s presence next to me, his fingers softly tracing through my hair, was all the comfort I needed.

As we lay there, my eyes growing heavy, Franco leaned down just slightly, his breath warm against my hair. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

I smiled, closing my eyes. “You too.”

And with that, the storm outside became nothing more than a distant hum as I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of Franco’s embrace, his hand still softly stroking my hair.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the apartment. The storm had passed, leaving only the gentle patter of rain ticking against the window. stirred slightly, realizing that Franco’s arm was still wrapped around me, and my head rested comfortably against his chest. It might sound a bit odd but waking up like this — still wrapped up in his embrace — felt surprisingly natural.

Franco shifted beneath me, his arm tightening briefly before he blinked awake, his eyes meeting mine with a soft, sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice still low and heavy with sleep.

“Morning,” I replied, matching his smile.

Neither of us moved for a few moments, letting the quiet of the morning linger between us. I could hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen, the telltale signs of someone already up and making breakfast. I lifted my head slightly, glancing over toward the kitchen, and saw Lando and George huddled near the stove, clearly trying not to be obvious as they watched us.

Lando, with his ever-present grin, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, well, well. Look who’s finally awake.”

George, more restrained but no less amused, added, “Breakfast is almost ready... in case you’re interested.”

I sat up, reluctantly pulling myself away from Franco’s embrace, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks under their teasing gazes. Franco, however, seemed completely unbothered, sitting up with a lazy stretch and flashing them a grin. “You guys couldn’t give us a few more minutes?”

Lando flipped a pancake with dramatic flair. “Mate, I’ve been up for hours. Go do that lovey dovey stuff some other time.”

Before I could respond, more footsteps approached from the hallway, and soon enough, Max and Charles appeared, both looking groggy but curious. Charles raised an eyebrow when he saw Franco and me, but he said nothing, just exchanged a knowing glance with Alexandra, who had wandered into the room with a smile.

She looked between Franco and me, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Leaning in, she whispered, “Je vois que tu as passé une très bonne nuit… “(I see you had a very good night...)

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking my head at her teasing. Franco glanced between us, clearly picking up on the tone but not the words. “What did she say this time?”

“Just more girl talk,” I replied with a grin, standing up.

The kitchen smelled of pancakes, coffee, and eggs as everyone gathered around the table for breakfast. The atmosphere was relaxed. Even Max, still hungover, managed a grin as the lighthearted banter continued.

After breakfast, as everyone began packing up and getting ready to leave, Franco pulled me aside. His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “So... I was thinking.”

I turned to him, curious. “About what?”

He hesitated for just a second, but then smiled. “I live in Madrid, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me for a few extra days. It’d be nice to spend some more time together... before you head back to Paris.”

Hearing it made my heart flutter. Madrid. A few extra days with Franco. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“I’ve had a lot of fun and I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. If you let me, of course.”

“I’d love that,” I replied softly.

Franco’s grin widened, the excitement clear on his face. “Perfect.”

Before I could say anything else, Lando’s voice cut through the room. “Oi! What’s this about Madrid? You two planning a romantic getaway?”

Franco didn’t miss a beat. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head, and then turned to Lando with a mischievous grin. “Jealous?”

Lando clutched his chest dramatically. “A little bit, yeah! Where’s my invite?”

Everyone laughed, even Max managed a small chuckle behind his coffee cup. The teasing flowed easily as we packed up, and the mood in the apartment was as bright as the morning outside. Whatever had started between Franco and me felt natural, fun, and as I grabbed my things, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about what was next. I wasn’t nervous, just excited —a new adventure waiting to unfold.

#f1 x reader #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic

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heliads · 1 year ago

Note

I’m not sure if you write for Marauders or not, but I thought I would ask. I’ve also never requested before, so apologies if I do this wrong.

My request is a Regulus Black x a female Potter reader where they fake their deaths to hide from Voldemort and destroy all his horcruxes in secret. Once they’ve destroyed all the horcruxes they reveal that they are alive to Sirius and James, and there is a cute reunion scene that’s really fluffy.

Again, sorry if I did this wrong. Thank you so much!!

oh i would do anything for the marauders (including writing for them)

masterlist

Night has fallen when Regulus Black tells you that he’s leaving. He waits until now, the final hour, as if hoping that the dark shades of midnight will hide what he’s planning from the rest of the world. Regulus will be found out, of that he is certain, he just hopes that he’ll have enough time to do some sort of good before he’s caught.

The smart thing would be to leave before anyone got word of his disappearance. Regulus is not smart when he comes to you, however, or so he admits when he shows up on your doorstep when you were just about to go to bed.

Regulus says that he’s leaving alone. It doesn’t explain why he showed up to say goodbye, or perhaps the thought of that solitude is the very reason for it. Regulus is alone except for when he’s with you. Every time that he was lonely, he sought you out. It makes perfect sense that now, when he fears the quiet abyss of death, he would want a farewell from you one last time.

You, however, are unwilling to let him go. It was hard enough having to endure the past few years estranged from him like another brother to let go. You’re a Potter, he’s a Black, and even though Sirius switched over to your side, Regulus hadn’t. Not yet. Not until now.

It had all but torn you to pieces, choosing loyalty with your brother James and his best friend Sirius when Regulus seemed so far away. Regulus had always been kind to you throughout your years at Hogwarts, the two of you closer than anyone despite how your scarlet school robes clashed with his emerald ones, and just when you swore nothing could separate you, he signed on with the Death Eaters.

Now he’s in front of you, telling you that he’s going to take down the Dark Lord or die trying. It seems like a fool’s errand, and a dangerous one at that. That’s what you tell him after you get over the shock of seeing him after such a long time, once you remember to invite him into your house and lock the door securely behind you.

The outside is blank and dark, but in your home, you’ve never felt more alive. You had wondered what it would be like to see Regulus after so much time, and it’s like you’re back at Hogwarts instead of in some small apartment close to your job. He’s here, and you’re here, and the thought that he’s about to go fling himself into the grasp of unwarranted death is unthinkable.

Perhaps that’s why you let it happen under only one condition: that you be there too. Regulus is a brother and you are a sister and the two of you understand each other, you always have. That’s why you know without a doubt that Regulus will not stray from this quest, even though you try to persuade him from it nonetheless. It’s why he knows better than to fight when you assert that he won’t be doing it alone.

You did try to talk him out of it a little, at least. Why would it be him of all people to try to take down Voldemort? When there are so many witches and wizards fighting in the cause, why should he be the one to die?

You had not gained much by way of explanation. “It’s my responsibility,” he had said simply.

Regulus would know about responsibility. Regulus, who joined the Death Eaters to appease his parents, who regretted the choice from the moment the inked skull appeared on his forearm. You’ve caught him staring at the accursed tattoo for hours, only when he thinks no one else is around. You know he only feels comfortable wearing long sleeved shirts so he doesn’t have to look at it and remember what he became.

It is his responsibility to save the wizarding world, and so it will be yours, too. Regulus isn’t pleased at first when you tell him that you’ll be going with him on the quest to hunt down the horcruxes, but you refuse to change your mind. When the moon hangs high in the sky later that night, you think he goes to sleep with a smile at the thought that he’ll have such a lovely traveling companion. He tells you as much when you set off, anyway.

He might as well be smiling about something, you won’t have much reason to do so until the difficult deed is done. You’re already leaving under terrible circumstances as is; in order to avoid detection from the Dark Lord and his followers, you and Regulus have staged each other’s deaths. When your friends come upon the scene later, they’ll believe that Regulus, a Death Eater, came by your home to kill you, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. You fought back and managed to wound Regulus enough to end his life, but not before he returned the favor for you as well.

It’s a horrific sight, the illusion of both of your bodies lying side by side. Your brother will find this out later, and be sick with grief. Regulus’ brother too, even if the taint of betrayal will make the whole scene wretched with wrongness. For now, though, you have no time to think of possible reactions nor the difficulty of what you are forcing your friends and family to endure. The only objective in your mind is how to destroy the horcruxes so that the war can be won.

Regulus knows of the first, a locket in a cursed lake somewhere deep underground. He takes you there first, and it takes him weeks to sleep off the aftereffects of that awful potion hiding the locket. Whenever you close your eyes, you see the rings of fire you had to conjure up to fight back the Inferi swarming from the lake, how they had emerged from the greenish lake ready to drag Regulus into the water the second he bent his head to drink.

Regaining the locket is an awful thing, destroying it more so. It takes the two of you several days before you’re able to do it for good, and all the while the accursed relic whispers lies in your ears, trying to convince you to abandon each other. When a wave of rage so strong it almost kills you makes you black out and slam the thing with the Killing Curse, it works at last. You’ve never used an Unforgivable Curse before. It takes surprisingly little willpower to do.

Regulus talks you through that. It’s easier to address the use of Avada Kedavra than the ugly truth both of you know, which is that there will be no guarantee that either of you will make it out of this infernal quest. It took everything in you to find and destroy the locket, which at least you knew about. What of the other horcruxes? How will you survive them, too?

The two of you travel across the country, listening in to wizarding news and doing your best to find out what the remaining horcruxes could be. You share space, you share secrets. You’ve never been closer to Regulus in your entire life. The thought that the two of you went a year or two without speaking after you left Hogwarts is unthinkable now. How could you breathe without him?

After dark, he lies awake, watching the light from a charmed lantern flit across the ceiling. He says, you don’t have to do this. Stay with him. Risk your life like this.

You prop yourself up on one elbow so you can get a better look at him. The furrows in his brow are more pronounced now, and the shadows under his eyes, which have been there since the day you met him, are now dark enough to look like the hollows of a skull. Of course I do.

As if the universe meant to reward your faithfulness, you’re blessed with a clue the next day. Regulus recognizes a Death Eater furtively walking down a street and follows him, overhearing the man tell one of his friends that Lucius Malfoy was apparently given some strange token of the Dark Lord’s. They’re both jealous that they weren’t given Voldemort’s refuse, apparently, but their complainings are like music to your ears.

Malfoy’s item is a diary, and it writes pages of frantic scribblings in an attempt to save itself before Regulus hits it with Fiendfyre which, strangely enough, works. Stranger still was trying to break into Malfoy Manor to find a journal, but all’s well that ends well. You got in, you got out, and although there are definitely some house elves under Lucius’ employ that will wonder why they heard voices in the dark that one night, no one is the wiser.

The next secret you hear is not an item but a place, the family home of the Dark Lord’s mother. The two of you comb the place relentlessly until you find an old ring buried deep beneath the earth. Just to be sure, you check it for curses, and after a great deal of difficulty, are able to remove the dark enchantment before destroying it for good.

You lie awake that night, musing aloud before you can stop yourself. “We only barely caught the curse on that one. What if the other ones were enchanted as well and we didn’t know it?”

Regulus sits up, brushing dark hair out of his eyes so he can look at you. “What if we’re both going to die because we didn’t catch something in time, you mean?” He asks.

You nod reluctantly. “I don’t want to seem like I’m losing faith, because I’m not, but– I worry sometimes, you know?”

Regulus stands, takes both your hands in his palms and kisses them. “I rely on your worries, Y/N. They keep us alive. And no, I don’t think we’re cursed. Not yet, at least. If we were, I could at least die with you. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

You laugh. “That’s morbid, Regulus.”

“But true,” he muses.

He tells you he loves you the next day. It feels like it’s been a long time coming. You have never been one to declare love immediately, but it’s different with Regulus, always has been. If you were in the mood to be honest, you would admit that you have been in love with him for years, ever since the two of you were small enough to hide in your brothers’ shadows and find each other there. You have loved him since the start. You will love him until the end.

Taking down the next horcrux is almost easy, if such things were allowed to be said. You’re fuelled by the hope that this might be the end. Standing over the shattered bits and pieces of Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup, you almost believe it. It’s funny, you always thought that you would somehow be able to tell when you finally destroyed the last of the horcruxes, like you could feel it in the air or something.

You feel nothing when the cup is destroyed. It scares you. You and Regulus have been extremely careful to keep yourselves hidden, but you dare to poke your heads out of the shadows for a little bit to determine if you were successful or not. Although you hear rumors that Voldemort seems weakened, that his forces have started losing battles despite him being at the helm of the attacks, he is not yet dead.

It’s heartbreaking. After all of your efforts, your trials and tribulations, every injury and weakness the two of you have sustained on the quest to defeat the Dark Lord, it still isn’t enough. You listen, you spend weeks and then a full month waiting for information, but nothing comes. There is no sign that there are any more horcruxes, but Voldemort has not died. How could it be so?

You come up with a tentative solution in the end, which is to go to Dumbledore for advice. In a way, it seems almost childish– why should the headmaster have any idea what to do, other than the fact that he led your school where the two of you first met and studied? Then again, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of his age. If anyone would know how to proceed, surely it would be him.

Regulus agrees readily enough, recognizing the necessity that if the two of you cannot find a way to continue on your journey, it will never end, and before long the two of you are Apparating near familiar territory and walking up to the castle on foot. You disguise your faces with a simple charm; the two of you are supposed to be dead, after all, but all it takes is one glance at you and Dumbledore is smiling and telling you that he’s glad to see two such familiar corpses up and about.

You laugh, you can’t help it, and remove the charm once you and Regulus are safely in Dumbledore’s office and out of sight. After explaining your predicament, Dumbledore sits for a moment in contemplative silence and then says at last, “It must be the diadem.”

You and Regulus exchange glances, then look back at him. “What diadem?” Regulus asks.

“The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, of course,” Dumbledore muses. “Tom Riddle– the Dark Lord, if you like your pleasantries– was captivated by the magic of the four founders of Hogwarts. You have told me already of Hufflepuff’s cup, this is the expected companion piece. It must be somewhere within the castle, but where– but where–”

He clears his throat after a lengthy pause. “I give both of you permission to scour the castle for it. I will caution the staff not to look too closely at either of you. Take however much time you need, but I would urge you to hurry. More of us die by the day, and it would do us no good to have our friends fall as a consequence of our own dillydallying.”

You look up at him. “And what happens after we destroy the diadem? It must be the last horcrux, or the last one he’s created so far. Will that kill him for good?”

“No,” Dumbledore murmurs, “that will end the horcruxes, not the monster who made them. Once the horcruxes are gone, he will be severely weakened and search for however has been hunting down his creations. You two are lucky that you have not died already, you know. I have no doubt that he has already begun attempts to stop you from completing your goal.”

You shudder, remembering past encounters. Death Eaters had nearly caught up to you many times, and on numerous occasions, they had, requiring firefights of spells and hexes before you and Regulus could escape to relative safety.

Beside you, Regulus tenses, obviously thinking along the same lines. “How do we survive once we destroy the last of the horcruxes? How do we stay out of his sight?”

Dumbledore sighs, weary and heavy. “I will put a stop to him,” he says at last, and that is that.

You and Regulus conjure up your charms once again, disguising your faces to all students who happen to pass by. You look in towers and dungeons, empty classrooms and great halls. It’s a mad memory rush being back here, and it is difficult not to mix memory with your current situation.

When a few hours of searching pass by, though, and neither of you have found even the slightest hint of a diadem, your fond musings are replaced by desperate anger. This is your last step, surely, if you could just find the thing. It would all be over if you could merely find one diadem in one castle.

Regulus leans against a nearby stone wall, eyes cast up to the sky in a plea for help. “Where would a diadem be? In the Ravenclaw dorm, maybe?”

You shake your head. “Dumbledore said it wouldn’t be there.”

You pace back and forth, trying to wrap your head around the issue. What other sections of the castle are particularly known to Rowena Ravenclaw? You’ll wear a path into the carpet beneath your feet while you try and think, but nothing seems to work until the wall opposite Regulus suddenly shifts away, revealing a door.

You and Regulus stare at the room that has appeared out of nowhere. “Do you remember a hidden room near here?” Regulus asks faintly.

You shake your head. “James loved tracking down every secret passage, and he told me most of them, but I don’t think even he knew about this one.”

It’s nice to have a first. You smile to yourself, then take Regulus’ hand when he offers it and walk inside the mysterious room.

The chamber is packed to the gills with objects great and small. It occurs to you that even if the diadem is somewhere in here, it could take years to sift through all this junk. You and Regulus look at each other, shrug, and each take a corridor in which to search.

About half an hour has gone by before Regulus gives a shout. “Found it!”

You race over to his side, and stand, breathless, looking at the very same artifact that’s caught his attention. It’s old, dusty, and not particularly noteworthy, but it has this terrible feel to it that all of the horcruxes had in turn.

“This is it,” you whisper. One last shot. Then, the end.

Regulus lifts his wand, summons a tendril of Fiendfyre, which goes straight through the diadem, shattering it like glass. It’s silent for a moment, and then, when the last shard of the diadem falls to the ground with a quiet crunch, you’re both rocked backward by a boom like a cannon. This, at last, you can feel. This is it.

Dumbledore is waiting for you when the two of you emerge from the room. “I’ll take my leave of you,” he says, “and thank you.”

You nod. “What do we do now?”

For a moment, despite the burden that has now been placed on your old headmaster’s shoulders, despite all the lives that have been lost and those that will still be taken, Dumbledore smiles. “You can go home.”

Sirius used to stay the night at the home of you and your brother, you remember that from your school days. It would then follow that, with everything in peril and friends disappearing by the day, Sirius would be at James’ right now. It certainly saves a trip for you and Regulus. Dumbledore gives you their address before you leave, and he tells you to waste no more time.

As if there is anything in the world that you want more than to see your family. You and Regulus Apparate a street or two down from the house, then walk over, hand in hand. Before you know it, you’re waiting on the threshold. The lights are on somewhere in the back of the house; you can hear voices, then a shout of a laugh you remember as Sirius’. It’s more quiet than it used to be, a little more hesitant. He’s lost a lot, the elder Black brother, but he’ll gain some today, too.

Regulus squeezes your hand. “Let’s come back from the dead,” he says.

You smile at him. “That sounds good to me.”

The doorbell echoes through the house, ceasing all conversation. There are slow footsteps to the door, a pause as someone looks through the peephole, and then all of a sudden the door has been flung open and you’re engulfed in a whirlwind of a hug. Your brother is here, your brother is lifting you off the ground with the force of his embrace, and it’s been so, so long since you’ve seen him, but you’re back again, and everything is okay at last.

James’ eyes are as wide as saucers when he finally leans away to get a good look at you. “Y/N, you’re– I swear, if you’re a Death Eater using Polyjuice, I will hurt you so badly–”

You laugh. “I’m me, James. Just me. If you want proof, though, I offer up the memory of when you were a first year and totally in love with Lily and you had me–”

James cuts you off quickly. “Alright, alright. It’s you. God, it’s you.”

A figure appears behind James, and a quiet voice asks, “Regulus?”

James moves aside so Sirius can see his brother. Regulus stands perfectly still, says, “We tried to fix it, Sirius, we hurt him, the Dark Lord, we–”

Regulus told you years ago that he wasn’t that affectionate with his brother. It’s to be expected, of course, divisions between brothers rarely settle themselves sweetly. You suppose that’s why Regulus looks so stunned when Sirius reaches out an arm and hugs him. You’re not sure if he’s trying to crush his younger brother or just make sure that he’s actually real, but they both look vaguely confused when it’s over. Happy, though. Glad to be alive.

The news will come out later that week that Voldemort is dead. Dumbledore did what was promised and killed him. That means the war is over, and that means you can rest at last. You’ll get a place to stay with Regulus. The thought of leaving him now that the two of you can be together without fear is unthinkable. You don’t want to be without him, and thanks to your suffering on the path to destroy the horcruxes, you won’t have to.

Dawn breaks. And you think– you think this might be it. Not a harsh end, but a soft one. A quiet aftermath. You’ll live, and Regulus will too. That’s more than you expected during those months on the run. When the two of you went to sleep unsure if you’d wake up in the morning, your wildest dreams could not encapsulate the wonderful life you have right now. It is marvelous, and it is yours. That is all.

requested by @bookishirishdancer, i hope you enjoy!

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

#regulus black #regulus black imagines #regulus black x reader #regulus black oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #marauders #marauders imagines #marauders x reader #marauders oneshot #marauders regulus #marauders regulus imagines #marauders regulus x reader #marauders regulus oneshot #harry potter regulus #harry potter regulus x reader #harry potter regulus oneshot

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sailforvalinor · 9 months ago

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Imagine you’re a young boy. Your parents died very recently, which has left you and your two younger siblings on your own, and to provide for them, you resort to thievery. One day, you break into a pretty big house, and while you’re sneaking about trying to find something worth stealing, you stumble across a gorgeous book. You study it, intrigued—but as you never learned to read, you can’t understand a word of it. While you’re distracted, though, you’re discovered by the owner of the house—but instead of reacting like a normal person would upon being robbed, he sits down and starts teaching you how to read the book, doesn’t turn you in to the police, and then adopts you and your siblings.

Years pass. When you hit high school, your adopted dad enrolls you in a pretty prestigious private school, and you do very well—you’re very intelligent and do very well in your classes, and you make great friends who don’t judge you for your past. There are three things you’re known for in this school: 1) that you’re more than a bookworm, you’re a book dragon, 2) you can make a mean panini, and 3) your friendly-boy swag. You’re the class’ resident cinnamon roll, and everyone loves you. There are some odd things about this school, of course—your teacher is a new hire, and she doesn’t seem that much older than you? And it turns out, the class president is an irl celebrity.

But all in all, you’re having a good year. Until your adoptive dad gets convicted of planning to murder your principal and is killed resisting arrest? You’re obviously devastated, half in-shock that your dad could ever do such a thing, half-convinced that he must have been framed or been being used, but what can you do about it? You’re just a teenager.

The year goes on, and you’re doing alright, but other odd things keep happening. There’s a lot of political unrest, a lot rumors flying about (the class president has a crush on our teacher? No way, that has to be fake), but you try to keep your head down and mind your own business. You make more friends, you do well in school.

And then, at the end of the school year, after a very odd field trip, a girl from one of the other classes publicly announces that she’s planning to murder your principal (was she involved with your dad’s death???) and vanishes, and then your teacher dies in a freak accident.

A few more years pass. You’re doing alright—you’ve got custody of your younger siblings now, but you’re responsible, and they’re doing just fine. One day, you remember that you made a heat-of-the-moment promise to attend your high school reunion, and while you’re not sure whether anyone will attend, a promise is a promise. So, you leave your siblings with a babysitter and head off towards your school.

Upon arrival, surprise, you find that everyone came—including your former teacher, very alive (and having dyed her hair), and your former class president, who you find out is now a serial killer. And still came to the reunion.

All of this to say, Fire Emblem: Three Houses from Ashe Duran’s perspective is wild.

#and yes I said Ashe Duran because that localization was unecessary 😂#fe3h #fe3h ashe #ashe duran #ashe ubert #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem

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kisspromptsforthelovesquare · 10 months ago

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Kisses under an umbrella

One last kiss before I sacrifice myself/risk it all for you

Jumping on the other kiss

“I thought I’d lost you” kiss

Detransformed but still pre-reveal kiss

Romantic sewer kiss

We just won/lost an akuma battle kiss

“In case we don't make it out of this alive" kiss

“I just found out your identity and I don’t think it’s physically possible to keep my lips off your face now” kiss

Formal kiss

We're platonically cuddling on a chilly patrol night when we're making each other laugh so much we spur-in-the-moment kiss

Sleepy/half-asleep kiss

“I forgot you’re dating my other identity” kiss

Someone’s hanging upside down kiss (aka Spiderman kiss)

Blowing a kiss

“Someone claimed to be dating you and I couldn’t contradict them” jealous kiss

“Your suit’s in the way” kiss

“Your suit’s not in the way anymore!” kiss

Someone just lost their memory kiss

He/she just said yes kiss

"Kiss it better" kiss

Celebratory kiss

Kiss for the camera

Kiss they think is secret but actually lots of people can see, or getting caught kissing

Forehead kiss

"Did you know that kissing is good for hiding in plain sight, because it makes people uncomfortable so they look away?" (aka fake out make out)

I got jealous how you smiled (politely) at that civilian who was obviously (except to you) flirting with you

Kiss on a dare

André got akumatized again and he's leaving couples alone kiss

True love's kiss worked before let's try it again kiss

We need to make our fake dating look convincing kiss

Hello kiss, or goodbye kiss

Distracting your injured partner from pain while you patch them up kiss

She mixed up her words and asked for a kiss by accident but he just went with it kiss

“It’s not fair that you remember kissing me and I don’t” kiss

“I need you to stop punning for like FIVE SECONDS, so I’m going to occupy your mouth in a different way” kiss

The akuma is a huge Ladynoir shipper and it's the only way out kiss

“Sure I’ll help you practice confessing to Buttercup” kiss

“Thanks for saving my life” Ladrien or Marichat kiss

Anywhere but the face kiss: hand kiss, wrist kiss, shoulder kiss

One corner of the square kissing to prove another corner isn’t dating kiss

You were going in for la bise and I read into it kiss

“I’m/You’re using a different miraculous today” kiss

Spin the bottle kiss

“I know I said I wanted to keep our relationship a secret but…” kiss

"What do you mean you're moving away?!" kiss

Welcome home kiss

"I want my first kiss to be with someone that I love and trust, but it's not that I'm IN love with you or anything hahaha no way" kiss

Kiss you to sleep, or kiss you awake

"Distracting you while you're trying to do something because I want attention" kiss

"Oh no, you made me fall in love with you" realization kiss

"Kissing your forehead/cheek while I thought you were sleeping" kiss (bonus if the 'asleep' person was actually unconscious and the kissing person is all "please come back to me.")

Kiss during Second Chance

Anniversary kiss

“I thought this was just dancing, so how did we start kissing?” kiss

“We just fought and I’m mad at what you did, but I want you to know I’m not mad at you” kiss

“You fell asleep on public transport and I’m waking you up at our stop” kiss

“It’s been years since we’ve seen each other and I didn’t know what happened to you because of secret identities” kiss

“Reunion” kiss but one of them has the kwagatama ability to talk to the other through reunion and their lips can’t even touch because one is a ghost :((

Winning a bet kiss

Drunk kiss

Soft kiss after wrapping them in a blanket

Kiss on an old injury

“Our friends are trying to set us up, haha, let’s humor them” kiss

Sneaking into each other’s room kiss

“I’m pretty sure the grimoire says something about kissing, but I’m not sure exactly what. Want to help me experiment?” kiss

Apology kiss

Kissing while using one of the suit power-ups

“We’re both so busy that we’ve barely seen each other in days, so we should make the most of it” kiss

Kissing under the mistletoe

Kissing in a car

Identity reveal kiss

“Let’s recreate our first/favorite kiss”

Kissing backstage after a fashion show

“We should be focusing on this battle but, wow, you are extra distracting today” kiss

First kiss, or last kiss

“I know it’s the worst possible time for a kiss but…”

Failed kiss or interrupted kiss

Kiss as a confession/to show you how I really feel

Post-reveal pre-relationship kiss

Kisses that tickle

“We found our way back to each other” kiss

Soulmate kiss

Everyday domestic bliss kiss

A kiss to comfort

“Why exactly are you kissing me?”

“Oh yeah? What are you willing to do to get a kiss from me? 😏” kiss

Accidental lip contact during la bise

Kissing in a disco

"What's the difference between le bisou and la bise? Hmm, let me show you..."

“Maybe this will jog your memory” kiss

“I was going for the cheek/forehead and I missed 😳” kiss

Sealing a pinky swear with a kiss

"Will you marry me?" kiss

"I just love you so much, I can't help it" kiss

Fake dating kiss

A safe for work “not safe for work” kiss (like they’re standing on a forklift or something - what were YOU thinking?)

Interrupted by kids. Or a hamster. Or a kwami.

"Miracle cure brought you back" kiss

“Here’s your present” kiss

A kiss that promises forever

---

More info below:

I hope you wanted a long list of kiss prompts for the Love Square this Valentine's Day! What better way to celebrate a day of love than with our favorite lovesick dorks. 🥰

Use this list however you want. As an ask game, a challenge to draw or write every one, or just pick your favorites!

(For more fun, here's a random number spinner that you can set to any number you want.)

Feel free to use any version of them you want, too. Multimouse, Cat Walker, Dragon Bug, Chat Blanc, or stick to the original four-cornered square, if that's your thing!

Tag @kisspromptsforthelovesquare and we'll reblog. Marinette and Adrien's love for each other is forever. Just like the offer of reblogging. There's no time limit.

There's also a collection on AO3. Feel free to post there instead/as well.

Have fun everyone! Go and make them smooch!

Thank you to the wonderful @ladyofthenoodle for the header, and for our Discord group with their kiss suggestions.

#kiss prompts #ml sugar #love square #miraculous ladybug #miraculous

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alex51324 · 1 year ago

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That Tweet, take 2

OK, so my first reaction to That Tweet, by Djenks, was as follows:

My money is on DJenks realizing that he shat the bed & now furiously trying to write himself out of the corner he's in. (My second guess is that he basically already knows there won't be a Season 3, but there's some network or business-related reason for not announcing it yet.)

But now that I've had a bit more time to think about it, I am kind of seeing a scenario where he could've intended it to be a fuckery all along.

Step one is that we imagine him being a bit disappointed by how Lucius's death fooled absolutely no-one. It's likely that he was planning for the reveal that he was alive to be a much bigger moment than it actually was; maybe he even has some Big Reveal ideas that he had to put on ice once it became clear that there was very little actual suspense surrounding Lucius's fate. This is, obviously, since I don't know him personally, a big hairy guess, but it seems like a very plausible reaction for someone to have, when they put a lot of effort into planning a surprise and it falls flat because everyone guessed it.

Step two is him deciding to sell Izzy's "death" a little harder, with the emotional death scene and the funeral (where we do not actually see the body, and a mourner, Wee John, is missing) and all. It's laying it on a little thick, in my opinion, but again, we did all confidently (and correctly) assume that Lucius was alive based on the evidence that "this show wouldn't do that" and "The Stede-Ed reunion won't work if he's really dead," so you can see how a showrunner could, hypothetically, get to--

Step three, is Djenks opening up his socials at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning, expecting to see reams of speculation and analysis about how Izzy could have survived, and being genuinely shocked to instead find seas of angry and devastated fans suggesting that he should perhaps give up television in favor of a career in going and fucking himself.

Step four, realizing that he drastically overshot the mark re: creating genuine suspense over character death, he tweets out a big obvious hint.

I don't love this interpretation--for one thing, there is nothing in the episode we saw that would provide a plausible in-universe reason for faking Izzy's death. It would be pretty easy to create one--have Prince Ricky No-Nose vow personal vengeance against Izzy Hands in specific for calling him a syphilitic cunt/his role in foiling the "end of piracy" scheme--but we did not see anything like that. To make the funeral scene work as a fuckery, it would be necessary to insert a flashback between the "death" and the funeral in which A) this happens, and B) the other characters find out about it. That's a cheap trick that I personally hate--the old, "Haha, I made you feel a thing by deliberately withholding context"--but again, if it's an overcorrection for the complete and abject failure of the effort to create suspense around Lucius's fate, I guess I can live with it.

If Izzy's death is a fuckery, that addresses a lot of the other problems with the finale. First, Ed and Stede's obviously-doomed, harebrained scheme to give up piracy and be innkeepers (in a dilapidated shack, on an island where we see no other people or settlements) is plausibly funny, as long as we aren't thinking that Izzy died for it.

Second, the tonal whiplash of going from the funeral to the wedding is also fine if everyone involved knows perfect well that the guest of honor at the funeral is actually recuperating just offscreen.

(Thirdly, there's Captain Frenchie--I haven't seen much discussion of that, but the only problem I had with it is that I can't think of any moments from the season where he stood out as being a leader for the crew. I might've missed something; he's not one of my particular blorbos, but it wouldn't have taken much, just something you can look back on and see how it was setting up him becoming captain.

And, crucially, we do have those few little moments of setup for Frenchie as First Mate to Captain Izzy. Frenchie was there during the dark days, during which he presumably underwent some skill development, pirate-wise, and definitely bonded with Izzy to some extent. We see him holding Izzy's hand during his breakdown, and he presumably helped hide him and definitely lied to Blackbeard about it, and then how they were sitting in the cell on Zheng's ship--it isn't a whole lot, but you can look back and see why it makes sense for Izzy to pick him.)

Making Izzy's death a fuckery doesn't do anything to fix the way the whole Zheng thing fell flat. (Why give her a massive fleet in the first place, only to take it away? Why did we get those scenes of ships being towed across land? What was she doing selling soup on the Republic of Pirates? For that matter, why did she come to the Caribbean in the first place, after becoming Pirate Queen of the Chinese seas?) It doesn't help with how Ed and Stede keep repeating the same beats of getting closer, then running away, then reuniting without ever talking about their relationship or their issues. It doesn't address why the Kraken Era had to go that dark, if the whole thing was just going to be smoothed over in the space between episodes 4 and 5, and how Ed never really takes responsibility for any of what he did.

However, middle installments of trilogies are notoriously difficult to write, and it isn't particularly fair to judge them before you get to the last part. Most of the weak points could look better in hindsight once we know how it all turns out.

(And, not for nothing, as long as Izzy is alive, we can still get something where Ed reckons with the Kraken Era, and particularly-but-not-exclusively what he did to Izzy. I don't see how that works with a dead Izzy, though--it's too easy for Ed to keep minimizing what he did and offloading blame onto him.)

There isn't a whole lot of evidence for an Izzy Lives scenario. All we have is:

This Show Wouldn't Do That (which, recall, was point 1 in why we didn't believe Lucius was dead. However, it is weakened by the absence of point 2--unlike with Lucius, the person who "killed" Izzy isn't a character we're expected to like or root for.)

No body at the funeral. I initially interpreted the funeral as being intended as proof that Izzy was really dead, a sort of "don't get your hopes up, guys," after what happened with Lucius. But again, if we're thinking about the framing of Izzy's "death" as an overcorrection to how completely non-fooled we all were by Lucius's, maaaaaybe not? I mean, if he really wanted to hammer the nail into the coffin, we would have seen Izzy lying in the grave, or his body being sewn into a shroud of sailcloth (as was the custom), or something. (Also, point 2b, the unicorn did have two legs.)

No Wee John at the funeral. There are certainly Doylist reasons he might've been left out--maybe the way the shooting schedule worked out, it saved money or some other resource to just leave him out of that scene, something like that. But for an in-universe reason, "somebody had to stay back and nurse Izzy" makes a lot of sense. (I mean, if this show operated on real-world logic, someone would have had to stay with the ship, but that's never been a concern before.) Wee John helping Izzy with his makeup for Calypso's birthday was presumably a bonding experience that involved some vulnerability on Izzy's part, so it would be weird for him to just nope out of the funeral, but plausible that Izzy would find him acceptable as a caregiver.

Stede and Ed's conversation over Izzy's grave could, just barely, make sense as a conversation about how Ed and Izzy are now on separate paths, with no particular guarantee that they'll see each other again. It takes a certain amount of massaging to make it fit, but it almost could? (Except Zheng's part really doesn't--unless the grave actually contains someone Ed cares about, or she isn't in on the secret that the funeral is a fuckery.)

I'm not in love with any of this, or even particularly convinced by it--my enthusiasm for any Season 3 is going to be pretty dampened, unless the announcement that it's been picked up includes the information that Con O'Neill has a contract to appear as a major character in all 8/10/whatever episodes--but IDK, I guess it's maybe not outside the realm of possibility? Ish?

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #I'm just spitballing here

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profoundbondfanfic · 1 year ago

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A Ghost Story by emmbrancsxx0 [Explicit, 257k words]

Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

A Lonely Vigil by saltnhalo [Mature, 34k words]

Castiel Novak is twenty-six years old when he's killed in the Civil War. The first soul to be laid to rest in the grounds of the new Lawrence Memorial Cemetery, his spirit remains in a liminal space—not in the living world, but not passing on, forever tasked with helping other spirits to go where he cannot. His vigil over the grounds of his cemetery is a long and lonely one, unable to interact with anyone who still remains in the land of the living. Until he meets Dean Winchester.

A Million Ways to Go by ChasingRabbits [Explicit, 91k words]

Castiel Novak is a preacher's son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn't understand why anybody would want to make waves. Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family's closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he's been told.

Bumper Cars by mansikka [Explicit, 111k words]

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past. Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

Dean Winchester is Not Afraid of Ghosts by Desirae [Explicit, 48k words]

When photographer Dean Winchester is not capturing momentous occasions like weddings and graduations with his Nikon, he is moonlighting as the cameraman for the South Shore Paranormal; a ghost hunting series on YouTube, headed by his brother Sam, and Sam's best friend Gabriel. Despite his brother's adamance, Dean Winchester does not believe in ghosts. And no one is going to change his mind. Certainly not a scam artist like Castiel Novak. Castiel is a self-proclaimed medium... and Gabriel's brother. When a member of the SSP team has to leave the crew, Castiel is the replacement, much to Dean's dismay. But the more they work together, the more Dean is drawn to Castiel, the man stirring up protective instincts usually only reserved for family. What happens when Dean realizes that Castiel is not the fake he always thought he was, but instead, a generous soul that Dean is rapidly falling in love with?

ghosts that we knew by dothraki_shieldmaiden [Explicit, 89k words]

Dean can’t help it. Castiel’s laugh is infectious, washing over him and sweeping him up in its tide. His throat and stomach ache with the feel of it, unfamiliar muscles worked past their endurance. He hasn’t laughed like this in weeks, maybe years. Cas doesn’t stop laughing, and Dean relishes it. It’s such a good sound, deep and throaty. It rumbles over him the same way that Baby’s engine purrs, to where he can almost feel it in his gut. Dean’s giddy, the kind of happy that hunters don’t get to feel, and if it weren’t for the ceiling, he thinks he might float away. Cas’ eyes crinkle when he laughs, and his smile goes wide and gummy. He’s so brilliant, so alive— But you’re dead, Dean thinks helplessly. But you’re dead.

Heart by Speary [Mature, 90k words]

The heart is a funny thing. Some say it loves, and others say that it is just a muscle, keeping you alive for some minuscule amount of time. For Cas Shurley, the heart was a defective reminder that each day was maybe going to be his last. For years he had been in and out of hospitals. For years he had viewed time as something trickling down the drain. Then Sam Winchester died. He died, and Cas got to live. And in what universe was that fair? But he accepted the gift, and told himself that he would live. Each beat of Sam’s heart in his chest was an anthem, a siren song beckoning him back to life. This new heart though, wanted him to do more than just live. This heart had a story to tell. It would wake him up in the night, and visit him with cold drafts and a sense of purpose that would propel him out of bed. But before he could truly live and act on the demands of his new heart, he would have to get out of the hospital, and he would have to meet the Winchester family. And though he didn’t know it, he would especially have to meet Dean, Sam’s brother. And meeting him would remind him of just how much more there was to life than just the living.

Hope and Clay by tabulaxrasa [Explicit, 20k words]

The museum is haunted, the security guard is dead, the ghost has an alibi, and Dean is… worried about his relationship status with Cas (currently: It’s Complicated). A Winchester family hunting trip threatens to go awry from the weight of too many secrets– and an unstoppable killer from the dawn of time.

Rest in Pieces by xylodemon [Explicit, 22k words]

"Goddamned ghosts," Dean snaps, stabbing his shovel into the dirt. "Goddamned Heaven." (or: the one with the Ghost Apocalypse)

Under Construction by thestarsarefalling [General Audiences, 42k words]

Castiel's been quietly haunting the house in which he's met his untimely demise for a long time. Up until this moment, he's only had to deal with squatters and adventurous teenagers, who were easy to drive out with some spooky moans and creepy words scratched into walls. But when his building is slated to become a construction site, Castiel encounters Dean, the contractor and new owner of the home, someone who doesn't scare easy.

Winchester's Haunted House by deansmultitudes, Kitmistry [Teen and Up, 3k words]

For the Halloween evening, Dean turns his new home into a haunted house for neighboring kids. But once all the guests are gone, is when the real haunting begins.

#destiel #group rec #halloween #ghosts

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achaiapelides · 2 years ago

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My TWP Predictions

I've seen that people started with predictions to what they think or want to happen in The Wicked Powers. So, here are my predictions:

The main character is either Dru or Kit. Dru because she is the most important living female character of the main squad and Kit, because most parts of the series are probably his story. Also he was second after Emma in TDA.

Kit, Dru and Ty have most of the book in their POV, additionally there will be some chapters from Ash and a few in Livvy's POV. The rest of the characters don't get their own POVs .

Kit and Ty will obviously make up (and out) and end up dating and staying together forever.

Mina or one of the Lightwood-Bane kids will be kidnapped and threatened to be killed, but won't die

Thule-Livvy comes to Our World and meets Cameron here. They get a second chance for their relationship, even though their respective versions of the other world are dead. I also think that Cameron would follow Thule-Livvy back to Thule to save it from demons.

Janus will either die, end up with the Seelie Queen, or go back to Thule to undo his and Sebastians mistakes and save the world on Clary's wish.

Thule Kit will either die, go evil and/or become King of Faerie. But somehow I think he dies because he gets attacked by faeries.

Thule Rosemary never gets attacked deadly, finds her son again, tries and fails to protect him at a dangerous attack by faeries and accidently goes to Our World and protects/saves Kit here.

The TWP-squad mainly consists of Dru, Jaime, Ghost-Livvy and/or Thule-Livvy, Kit and Ty. Ash joins them later and Anush also gets to be pretty important, but has no part written in his point of view.

Dru, Jaime and Ash will go to Thule for some reason. Kit, Ty, Livvy and Anush stay in Our World and go to Faerie.

We get to see Auraline. Either in a flashback or because she's actually alive, but nobody knew. In that case she will also protect Kit and maybe end up as Queen of Faerie.

Kieran might give up his throne to the brother who's dating (?) the Seelie Queen in tge end of TDA.

Kit has wings and can make other people fly with his powers. I want to see him and Ty dance across the night sky.

Love triangle between Dru, Jaime and Ash, but they actually communicate and Dru ends up with Ash.

In the end Ash lives with either Dru at Blackthorn Hall or either the Herondale-Carstairs family.

Dru and Ty move to Blackthorn Hall, like Jules planned them to, also to be closer to Kit (and Ash).

Kit and Ash become parabatai. Maybe to secure eachother's survival. They are scared the other will kill them, but parabatai's can't kill eachother. So problem solved.

If a Lightwood dies, it's hopefully Maryse.

Kit fake-dies. Ty also fake-dies at the showdown battle and Kit heals him with his power.

All characters comeback at the showdown. Also Herongraystairs reunion and sibling-bonding of their children.

Irene unexpectedly loves Kit

Ghost-Livvy playing with animals (Irene)

Dru naming Ash's chinchilla

Ash saving Dru from falling

gray character Ash, but he chooses the good side in the end

These are the things I definitely do not want to happen, but might be a bit likely to go down this way:

Jace dying. Because he's a Lightwood, too and has someone who wants to and can step up in his place if he dies: Janus. He's also in more or less immediate danger, because Janus wants to kill him. Also Clary thought that she would die in TDA, so maybe Jace steps up to die instead of her (like Jason did for Piper in TOA, Rick is a friend of Cassie's, too, btw). But I hope it's not him who dies.

Ideas I had, that are probably way too wild for it to actually happen:

KitTy wedding in faerie as a way of staying together forever, because others want to separate them.

Rosechild / Rosestar moments: I mean Ash flirting with Jaime and Jaime totally questioning his sexuality. Maybe even some more romantic moments

Ash taking the Fairchild name instead in honour of his aunt and grandma.

Kit taking the Blackthorn name because he feels more connected to them than to the Herondales. Jace almost disowning him afterwards.

Kit bonding and cuddling with a duck. Jace definitely disowning him now.

Ash being the one who warns Clary and Jace about Janus

I probably have even more ideas, which I will add when I remember them.

Predicted couple's surnames at the end (aka what I think fits the best):

Clary and Jace Herondale (-Lightwood): children will be Herondales

Clarissa Herondale and Jonathan Christopher Lightwood Herondale

Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane

Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane and Magnus Lightwood-Bane

Simon and Izzy Lightwood-Lovelace

Simon Lovelace and Isabelle Lightwood-Lovelace

Aline and Helen Penhallow (-Blackthorn): children would be Penhallows

Aline Penhallow and Helen Penhallow-Blackthorn

Mark, Cristina and Kieran Blackthorn-Rosales (if they have children, Cristina and Marks child would be Blackthorn and Cristina and Kierans child would be Rosales)

Mark Anthony Blachthorn, Cristina Mendoza Rosales and Kieran Blackthorn-Rosales

Julian and Emma Carstairs

Julian Atticus Carstairs and Emma Cordelia Carstairs

Kit and Ty Blackthorn

Christopher Jonathan Blachthorn and Tiberius Nero Blachthorn

(Livvy and Cameron Blackthorn-Ashdown)

(Livia Blackthorn and Cameron Ashdown)

Dru and Ash Fairchild (-Morgenstern)

Drusilla Fairchild and Ash Fairchild

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marshymoss · 2 years ago

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BSD 107 SPOILERS

//SPOILERS!! AHHHHH!!!! I'm putting my thoughts here because I have a moot on Twitter that I don't want to spoil things for....

OK. SO. You know how Dazai is Not having a good time rn.... like bro is seeing the pearly gates. And Chuuya (who is not in control of his own body) is on his way to kill him via Fyodor's orders.

NOW, many people, including myself... ARE SO EXCITED FOR THIS SKK REUNION!!! like... so many monumental things abouta possibly happen. SUCH AS (list off the top of my head): 1. Chuuya bite Dazai vampire style and that nullifies the curse. Aha. i can imagine the edits now. (and to see that animated at some point.. ough) 2. Skk beats up Fyodor double black style ;) 3. Skk bantering that we have missed so so so much 4. Chuuya potentially faking being vampire, lifting his hat up, and looking at Dazai... "You missed me?" OR "You look like shit. Almost makes me forgive you for that stunt you pulled with the water." 5. Dazai being carried princess style by Chuuya ahhahahtg73849ewk 6. Now, what me personally wanna see.... Chuuya BOOKING it down the halls trying to get to Dazai in time. I don't think this will happen because the shock value of seeing Chuuya actually faking being vampire wouldn't be as good. BUT OH BOY AM I IMAGINING IT. 7. oh and Chuuya having his own flashbacks ab their relationship too!!

IM SO EXCITED FOR JULY YALL. EEK.

Now, I don't think Dazai is going to die. But. It a possibility that we cannot ignore.... and I've got some angst that it can cause. Like. Agh. This is the reason I'm making this post; I want to shock others with fear. Fear that I don't want to suffer through alone. NOW, MY ANGSTY LIST FOR HOW THIS SKK INTERACTION MIGHT PLAY OUT:

Fyodor calls back vampire Chuuya (Sigma situation) and he doesn't make it to Dazai in time and Dazai dies Alone. (I don't think this is going to happen at like. All. But it could! Maybe!)

Turns out Chuuya is faking being vampire, but he gets to Dazai and it's too late to do anything (poison kicks in, bro bleeds out, etc.) He dies in his arms! ^^

Chuuya is forced to activate corruption, Dazai can't save him because BROKEN LEGS and both Chuuya and Dazai die (i will stop reading bsd.

Chuuya kills Dazai as a vampire, the curse isn't nullified (FYODOR is the one who sent Chuuya there afterall) and this is when we get Really Angsty: (1) It's obvious that Chuuya and Dazai care for each other on some level, even if you don't ship them. Chuuya would be killing somebody that he cares about, and he would probably blame himself for it. Dazai is somebody that he has known for SEVEN YEARS!! That shit would HURT!! The sheep, flags, all of his subordinates that have died on the field, now Dazai. (2) NOW as for DAZAI!! If I remember correctly, Dazai says something along the lines of "Everything I want I lose" or something like that, right?? Now. Imagine this. Dazai, someone who craves death and constantly tries to commit suicide, dies. OK so what?? No. I think that Dazai very much wants to try and stay alive, it's hinted at multiple times (15 novel, his character song, a much happier life with the ADA in contrast to the mafia, etc.). Let's circle back to what I said earlier, "Everything I want I lose." Dazai goes full circle from wanting to die -> wanting to live -> dying. It hurts and it would prove what Dazai thinks/thought is right!! Everything he wants, he can't have! (Also, cherry on top. He hates pain!! He would be dying a very, very painful death. He even says that he is in a lot of pain in the chapter) OK, ONE AGAIN I DONT THINK CHUUYA OR DAZAI IS DYING!!! im sorry. lets.. focus on the positives!!! Sskk reunion yayyy! (it's also really painful to think about them)

#bsd #bungo gay dogs #bungo stray dogs manga #bungo stray dogs #dazai #chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #soukoku #bsd 107 #bsd manga #im sorry yall

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im-immortal · 22 days ago

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Small Miracles

Beth Greene is not dead. Though it is not for a lack of trying.

After eight long years spent in the CRM's grasp, struggling to find reasons to continue surviving, Beth finally finds her reason: Rick and Daryl are alive, and they are closer than she ever could've guessed. Now she must take advantage of her only opportunity to escape and track them down.

Along the way, she revisits all of the places that changed her into who she has become. And she is forced to remember who she truly is at heart despite how unrecognizable she finds herself.

But she has an unexpected ally along for the journey. Just the same as her, he is somewhat of a living miracle. Except he's no longer living... he's a walker.

Moonshine Awards 2023 Third Place Winner for Best WIP ZA, and Second Place Winner for Best WIP Reunion/Fix It!

Chapter 27 // Part 18: Virginia

And as if Gale already knew, he mutters from his spot in the shadows nearby, “Did you think she didn’t care?” Beth shoots him a brief glare, refusing to answer. She pulls her legs up to her chest and sits silently beside Mae’s sleeping form. “‘Cause she does,” he goes on. “She sees it. She… she feels it. Deeply. She’s ready to risk her life jus’ to see you get back to him. I don’t think she even cares whether she lives long enough t’see it. She knows you don’t need her.” “Shut up.” “She barely remembers Glenn, y’know. She told me the other day that yer the only one who really cares about seein’ her reach him. She said that she accepted he was dead years ago. She said the only person she’s really willin’ to go through all this for is April, and she’s long gone. She said she’s only doin’ this for you. ‘Cause you love Daryl so much that you’d fake yer own death an’ walk hundreds of miles jus’ for the chance to reunite with him again.” Beth grinds her teeth, biting back a scathing response. She simply pretends she doesn’t hear him. Yet he continues, “Mae’s a real romantic at heart, ya know. She’s got this idea in her head—this idea of you an’ Daryl. Like everythin’ll be okay once ya see each other again. Like if she can help you reach him, it’ll all be worth it. Even if she dies in the process… It’s all fer you. In the end, it’s all fer you two. Not her. Never her.” Beth can’t suppress the words that escape her lips in a hiss this time: “Fuck you.” There’s a beat of silence. She hears him take in a ragged breath through the sad excuse that was once his throat. “I’ve told you I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anymore. I didn’t know Amanda was good. I didn’t know she was tryin’ to escape the CRM. She was wearing the uniform. I didn’t know she was helpin’ you. I thought she was another threat. I thought… it don’t matter. You know what I thought. You know why I did it. But you can’t sacrifice Mae. What happened eight years ago… it happened. There’s no changin’ it. You made yer decision. And the decisions you make outta anger… they can’t be taken back. You took a pair of scissors to a gunfight. At some point, you’ve gotta stop punishing us for that.” Beth is rigid where she sits, refusing to look at Gale even as his words penetrate her. Even as they cut her down to the bone. She vibrates with her anger, fighting the urge to leap to her feet and slam him against the wall. Fighting the urge to drive her knife through his skull once again. Then he rasps out, “You’re the one with all the wounds. But we’re the ones who feel the pain.”

#bethyl fanfiction #beth greene lives #crm beth greene #civic republic military #season 10 canon divergence #glenn rhee's sister #gale the walker #pov beth greene #found family #beth-centric bethyl fic #beth and daryl reunion #mc fic #SquishyCool

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markantonys · 1 year ago

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Did fandom ever decide if Mat, while in Tar Valon, knew that Rand was "dead"? I went back to listen to Liandrin read the letter to Mat and while there is the implication there with the whole "miss Rand and Laila this close to Bel Tine". Then the implication of us 4 being Nynaeve, Egwene, Loyal and Perrin. She didn't edit that part of the letter, only skipped the last lines about Mat. However, during the reunion scene Mat asks where the others are and why Rand is not with Perrin. Making me think that Mat thought Rand was alive and following the horn of valere all along.

I have an angsty Mat fanfic stuck in my head but I'm only 1/3rd into The Shadow Rising and therefore a bit unsure about Mat's thought process, which is also probably different in show. For writing purposes..... I have a need to know if Mat has been beating himself up for abandoning Rand like that only for him to die. Alternatively if Mat is feeling alone, guilty and forgotten..... Like that scene with Liandrin implies she has read him a dozen letters, did she just add Rand into them, did Mat just think Rand was off doing his own shit.....

this is an interesting question because it's not really clear in the show! the parts of the letter you mentioned strongly imply rand is dead, but is mat picking up on that implication? does he have enough context to pick up on it? given that liandrin seems to have read him multiple letters from perrin over the past 6 months, it's possible there would have been some explicit reference at SOME point to rand being dead, but it's also possible that perrin only ever talked about missing him and didn't ever feel the need to outright mention what happened in fal dara since egwene & nynaeve were there too. but given moiraine's doom-and-gloom pre-waygate speech, it's also possible mat assumes that references to missing rand are because he died at the eye. since liandrin's goal is to make mat feel like a failure who abandoned his friends, if it's even SLIGHTLY on her radar that the other kids think rand is dead, then surely she would not hesitate to rub that in mat's face to make his guilt worse. but, on the other hand, maybe she would rather make mat think that rand is alive and just doesn't give a shit about him, same as the others.

we hear liandrin read out "i miss you both, and rand, and laila" so at the very least, mat knows that rand is not with perrin. and yet, in cairhien he asks rand "where's everyone else? are they here? where's perrin? egwene?" so, what are his motives for asking this question?

1) mat's simply so shocked to find One Surprise Friend in cairhien that he instinctively asks whether there could be More Surprise Friends!

2) now that rand is alive and not dead as mat may have believed, mat is wondering whether liandrin pulled some kind of aes-sedai-creative-truth-telling on him with perrin's letters (he doesn't know anything about the black ajah at this point, so he has no reason to think she'd be able to straight-up lie) or whether she led him to assume incorrect things about his friends, so he figures he'd better ask after the others just in case his assumption that they believe rand is dead is incorrect.

3) enough time has passed since the date of perrin's most recent letter that mat figures that letter doesn't have the most up-to-date info, and rand might have met up with perrin and/or the girls since then

or 4) a theory proposed by @butterflydm - mat thought rand was dead; knows that perrin, egwene, and nynaeve think he's dead; is fully aware that they aren't with rand in cairhien right now; is wondering why rand would be hanging out in cairhien while the rest of their friends think he's dead; suspects rand might have faked his death, or at least that SOMETHIG is going on with rand. and so him asking rand where the others are isn't because he actually thinks they might be with rand, it's because he's trying to gently prod rand into explaining to him why he's in cairhien alone and thought dead by everyone he loves.

so yeah, it's interesting to ponder! practically speaking, i do kinda think the show would've thrown in an "i thought you were dead!" during the initial mat/rand reunion if they truly meant us to think that mat thought rand was dead (and probably also would've had a line in an earlier episode where liandrin twists the knife about how rand died because mat left him), but there are also plenty of grounds to imagine that mat DID think he was dead. and at this point i doubt we'll get a definitive answer either way (although tonight's episode might prove me wrong!), so i think you could safely choose either option for your fic and it would feel canon-compliant! speaking of, i would LOVE to read that fic, so please send me the link if you end up writing & posting it!!

#heljar-heimur #answered #wot show spoilers

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s-d23 · 1 year ago

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How I fell in love

with The Walking Dead, Bethyl and Team Delusional. No one asked. Lol but I wanted to share! Back in 2014 I had heard of TWD but had never seen an episode, had no idea of the plot or who the characters were, all I assumed that it was a "scary" TV show and that was it. So in July I was flipping through the channels and ran across the dead, white and blue marathon. I was working but yea I could do my job and watch TV with no interruptions from my then 1 yo. The very first episode I laid my eyes on was Still. Can you believe that? The first random episode I found was my now favorite Still!! I had no idea of any background stories, I didn't even know their names at the time. All I seen was 2 young people running around an apocalypse with zombies who had major chemistry. It felt like a normal date night in the country. Finding an old abandoned house in the woods, drinking moonshine, someone getting too drunk and wanting to fight or argue, sitting on the porch and the crickets in the back ground. Sounds like a normal night in the south especially for a young couple. Hell, the first time my husband told me he loved me was when he was drunk on homemade moonshine and I live in NC but that's a different story. I kept watching these two characters and thinking they are going to at least make out! Really thinking they were going to go back into that cabin and (insert smut) however we all know they didn't. They did burn it down which again is a typical thing to do in the south burn something or have a big bon fire. I never once felt that there was some crazy age difference. I had no idea of their ages. After watching that episode I watched the next few and quickly realized that TWD was not all about scary zombies. I was in love and obsessed. I went and bought every season which was 4 at the time. By October I was completely caught up and so excited to find out what happened to beth and wanted the Bethyl reunion! I had not shipped a tv couple so hard since Spike and Buffy in high school!! Then Coda happened and I was so effected. I felt like I was actually mouring someone real not just a fictional character on a TV show. I cried myself to sleep. Now mind you at the time I was a 20 something year old women with a family and for days I was actually overcome with grief! Then it hit me. The whole thing did not feel right. The way she was shot and the angle of the gun. The way the music played at the end. I began to search on the internet because in my mind I really thought this has to be a fake out death and maybe someone else thought so or there was a spoiler of some sort to prove she was alive. That's when I found tumblr. I didn't know what that was before either. I found team delusional. Some of the people I followed are gone now but what everyone was saying and fact there were missing scenes that they filmed all made sense to me. I continued to watch the TWD until around season 7 or 8 then I lost interest. I never stopped following TD to see what they had to say, hoping eventually TWD would bring beth back. I never stopped reading all the bethyl ff. I did start back the main show to finish the last 2 seasons. Then of course the DD spin off. I notice the parallels on the DD show because the earlier seasons are my favorite and I have rewatched so many times. The parallels i see are of the end of season 4 and the beginning of season 5. All of the big beth episodes. I do believe that we are closer now than we have been to seeing her again! I think currently the writers want the GA to believe that Daryls happy ending will be with either Isabelle or Carol, however I think they are writing the story to seem like that, so it will be an even bigger surprise when Beth returns. ❤️

#beth greene #team delusional #team defiance #beth is alive #beth greene lives #beth is coming #td theories

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welcometogrouchland · 2 years ago

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ok another silly one: the amount of ppl in luz found family (and by extension hunters) means that sometimes theres ppl hanging out that otherwise wouldnt. why is king napping in camilas couch? why is darius showing up to vees parent teacher reunions? why is the collector at the advanced bardic theory class that raine teaches? nobody can tell, lest of all themselves

YESS WHACK ASS CHARACTER COMBOS MY BELOVED!!!

Also that comment specifically about Darius showing up to one of Vee's parent teacher meetings reminds me of a plot bunny I had abt Darius and Camilla fake dating when her relatives visit. I don't feel qualified enough to write it but it lives in my heart rent free 💖 I'm not even the biggest darimilla stan I just think it's such an interesting crack ship <3

Anyway back to the actual topic I love the idea of the owl house slowly evolving from this solitary fortress that Eda used to hide from the world in S1 to this revolving door of family and friends that pop in and out for quick visits, catching up or needing help with a problem or a scheme or getting up to some whacky antics. It makes you realise how far Eda has come and how so much of it is because of Luz :')

Anyway funny combos to me are:

Hunter and Lilith (straight up I think they could be besties with the right life changing adventure but at the beginning it's SUPER awkward. Lilith's trying to be nice BC she feels bad but she's Lilith so she sucks at it (/affectionate) and Hunter's just confused as to when Lilith got so polite. This feels like a trap to him. Eventually Lilith gets to infodump about how ancient witches did chair upholstery and Hunter starts talking about the intricate lore of the non-canon cosmic frontier spin-off books from the 2000s and they get on like a house on fire! The house is not on fire though. The house is flooded by hooty's tears. They don't know if he's jealous or happy)

Matt and Eda (Steve is visiting Lilith who's staying with Eda for a week or so and now Eda's educating Matt on how to scam a scammer, which would be sweet if she hadn't done this after Matt had already undergone his getting involved in local politics and leadership arc in FTF. Straight up I think if we get a timeskip to the kids as adults at the end of the series I think Matt's gonna be the BI's first democratically elected president)

Alador and Camilla (alador is. Such an incompetent, bumbling dad but he is TRYING. Good lord Camilla knows he's trying. And Amity loves him, she really does. But oh my god Camilla is worried. He got distracted by a cool bug and nearly took his hand off helping Camilla chop vegetables for the owl house potluck. He doesn't know the twins birthday, and Camilla was about to get mad, that's messed up, but apparently he also doesn't know his own birthday??? She's seen his abomatons in her and Luz's fight with kikimora, hell she's seen him study and understand human realm technology! This man is the most genius inventor on the boiling isles. She knows this. She doesn't know how he's still alive)

Willow and Raine (doesn't actually happen at the owl house, Raine was staying the night with Darius and Willow is waiting while Hunter gets ready for their date. There isn't even a profound connection or funny contrast between the two. They really do just get on well. It's nice. Raine finds out that Willow listened to Eda's old breakup mixtapes and asks what was on there. They gossip a bit. It's nice!)

#ramblings of a lunatic #the owl house #toh #there is. too many characters to tag here!#just have fun with this mammoth wall of text #asks

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wereshrew-admirer · 8 months ago

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still thinking of what i’d do for the 15days prompt ‘reunion’ if i had the time

a short post-canon comic where duvall is considering what to do next and after remembering his cousin’s message about his worried parents feels obligated to deliver the news to chine’s family - so before leaving blackwick he hikes out to chine’s family farm.

chine’s mom answers the door and duvall feels sick because of some memory of having met her, or a resemblance or something? he suddenly wants to tell her everything (not just chine’s death but everything that happened to him too - and abt It and and and) - only she doesn’t recognize the name “chine” at all and she doesn’t recognize him either…

he stumbles through trying to get her to understand without deadnaming chine, until eventually she frowns like .. wtf are you talking about, <deadname> has been dead for years ??

which confuses duvall, because not only had they been alive but they’d been in blackwick pretty regularly? surely she’d seen or heard about them?

duvall can’t tell if she’s been willfully ignorant or what and is about to explain that <deadname> became chine, etc etc, but it strikes him that chine themself might have sent fake news of their death to her or something and hesitates - surely they had good reason?

he thinks about how strange they’d gotten and struggles for a minute but ultimately decides to respect what he imagines may have been chine’s wishes and excuses himself to leave.

as he’s going she watched and seeing him from behind recognized him finally. she says something like “wait aren’t you that kid that <deadname> brought around a few times?” and when duvall confirms she tells him he looks like shit and maybe he should come in for dinner.

it’d probably end with duvall’s face looking conflicted and upset without clarifying if he goes in or not. maybe a zoom in on the chaos that’s been behind chine’s mom the whole time - a big loud family that chine had left behind or been cut out of and he’ll never know how or why

…….

which wouldn’t be a “short comic” at all, hence my not even trying to put it into images. but i Have been thinking about it and even without all the added nonsense i Am having feelings abt duvall having feelings about chine’s family and the nature of estrangement and……….

#chine/duvall #late night sad about chine hours #broken record voice #sangfielle spoilers #big feelings about estrangement and death what else is new

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danger-xylophones · 2 years ago

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Cleaning out my drafts - WIP

Family Reunion PART 11 {Cancelled}

Warnings: I don’t know how to put this but - allusions to a miscarriage, allusions to suicide, faking death, faking a miscarriage. We are getting dark here so if you are not comfortable with that, I will mark where to skip (TW-SKIP) to (E-TW), implicated in murder, dysfunctional family, she/her pronouns, anti-Jedi speech

.........................................................

Everything had gone wrong. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong.

You sat unmoving in the hull of the ship, hands bound behind your back, dual lightsabers hanging mockingly on the opposing wall, and choked sobs echoing all around. But you did not acknowledge it. You were staring at the floor, hunched over and barely blinking. With every breath the strands of hair that had fallen in your face gently brushed against your cheek. But instead of being a comfort, it only made you weep more - the droplets falling from your eyes to trail down your face till they fell to collect on your knees and the floor. It made you long for the gentle caress of his hand - you wanted him to brush the stray hairs back behind your ears. Next, he’d trail his hand along your jaw till he could grasp your chin. He’d tilt your face up, a whisper of “what has upset you, my light?” on his lips.

But there would be no such thing. He was gone. Maul was gone. And you were being held in his stead - branded a criminal and a conspirator and treated like one by the Nubians who found out and your fellow, former fellow padawan until the Jedi arrived.

There were sounds of celebration that invaded your solitude. A painful reminder of what and who you had lost. So much had gone wrong it was hard to fathom. You would never forget the astonished and horrified looks the council had used on you as Obi Wan spoke of what happened. Your own master had turned on you - even going so far as to be the one to order you be locked up for, as he so delicately put it, “this betrayal of the highest order to not only him and the Jedi but to the Republic and to the force itself”.

Another painful shuddering breath escaped. There would be no comfort here. There would be no compassion that the Jedi pledged themselves to. You were alone.

Your stomach lurched. No, you weren’t. Your baby was still alive - you could sense them.. But the Jedi would surely take them as well. No. No. You would not let that happen. They were all you had. And you were all they had. And you would be damned if the Jedi tried to take them from you. You would slaughter every one of them if you had to.

You gasped - that thought...”There is no emotion, there is peace.” You sighed heavily as you began reciting the creed that had always guided you.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” You could hear his voice - crystal clear as though he had whispered the words into your ear.

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.” You forced your breathing to calm. If you were going to attempt an escape from the Jedi, you would need full control over everything.

“Through passion I gain strength.”

“There is no passion, only serenity.”

“Through strength I gain power. “

“Through chaos, there is victory.”

“Through victory, there is no death.”

“My chains are broken, there is only the Force.”

Footsteps approached. You forced your mouth to close and a moment later Yoda, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi, and Obi Wan crammed into the relatively small hull. Each one stared at you. “Many questions, we have for you, Padawan.” Yoda spoke - his voice harsher than anything you thought he could muster. “Speak, you will.” The Force shall free me.

...........................................................

“My light...” The whisper drifted over the quiet clearing till it finally circled around you, rendering you completely immobile as though the sight before you did not initially do so. There, mere feet away from you stood Darth Maul. Tall and regal if not a little out of sorts with new odd shaped mechanical legs, a sort of collar around his throat that dipped over his collarbones, vambraces wrapped around his forearms, and no shirt. But, he looked like himself. His horns were back to their normal length, his figure was more well-defined - you were no longer able to count his ribs - and his tattoos looked to have been restored. But the true testament to is restoration were his eyes; still the eyes of a sith, still angry and dark, but focused. Mother Talzin’s magic had worked - Maul was back.

“M-Maul...” You struggled to take a step forward, your legs felt heavy and unfamiliar and they did not respond to the part of your mind that urged, begged, you to run to him. You froze again, you and the red zabrak were locked in what felt like a dream that would shatter at any second to reveal the either to be a hallucination. Even the thundering footsteps of Savage as he raced to catch up with his brother weren’t enough to snap either of you out of it.

“Are you-?” You both began and cut off at the same time, the question still at the forefront of your minds. Are you real?

Yes. You decided and forced yourself to take a step forward. It was enough. In an instant the trance shattered. Without warning, you both sprinted at each other to meet in the middle of the clearing with a harsh collision that almost sent you to the ground if not for Maul’s arms immediately locking around you. From there it was a desperate struggle to get as close as possible, your arms wrapped around his torso first as you pressed your face to his chest to hear his twin hearts hammering away while Maul’s hands moved where they pleased, tugging as he did so to feel the resistance your form lent - to show him further that you weren’t a figment. You didn’t care that Savage was awkwardly hovering not even four feet away you only focused on Maul - on his warmth, the weight of his touch, and the subtle shuddering of his chest as he fought back a mixture of sobs and astonished laughter. For a moment you pried yourself off of him to slide your hands up his chest and to his neck where one wrapped around the back of it and the other cradled his jaw. Carefully if not still hastily you tilted his head down enough to meet his eyes which gave off a gentle glow in the darkness of Dathomir. Maul turned his head enough for his lips to press against your palm and he closed his eyes, finally letting his chest convulse and constrict as he broke out into very quiet dry sobs. “I knew it. I knew you were real.” He muttered against your skin. “I knew you were real the moment I saw you on Lotho Minor but I didn’t dare believe it, my light. I thought-I thought you were some trick sent to further torture me.” He moved one of his hands up to cage the one on his face in place as he moved his mouth away from your palm and further down till his lips brushed against the delicate skin below your wrist. “But...you’re real...I thought you were dead, Y/n.” What? “There were rumors...” he mumbled, “rumors that you had perished shortly after Naboo.” Your face blanched as the weight of his confession came crashing down on you.

..............................................................................................

You weren’t exactly certain how long you’d been held by the Jedi in their prison cells but you knew that it had been a considerable amount of time going by the progression of your steadily growing belly. Though not too grown to cause great pain, the bump was indeed noticeable by now and the healers had taken an even greater interest in the health of your baby which told you that features had begun to show on scans though you weren’t allowed to see any of them. It felt like they were already trying to put distance between you and your baby before it was even born. No matter - you were ready to make your escape. You just needed to wait for the perfect moment.

(TW-SKIP) The Jedi at the very least were not cruel to you as you sat in prison, cold certainly, but not cruel. You knew that their kindness was mostly reserved for the child you were carrying but till it was born you were safe. In trying to ensure the baby was healthy, the healers were perpetually adjusting your meals and one new addition was the inclusion of star-cherries. A dark red variant specifically, that you’d begun collecting and stashing away. When crushed up, though you hated to acknowledge it, the berries looked an awful lot like blood.

The time had come - the head healer would be coming to check up on you very shortly which meant that you had to act quickly. As nonchalantly as you could as not to alert the guards that were constantly patrolling the ray-shielded cells you pulled out the mashed up star cherries you’d stashed away after your last two meals and tried to justify what you were about to do in your head. “I’m sorry, my starshine.” You whispered to the child in your womb though you were unsure why you were apologizing. Perhaps, because you already knew that this child’s life would never be any semblance of normal. Carefully, you set to work staining your robes and painting the inside of your thighs. With a steadying breath, you hid the remaining fruit paste away and focused on at least masking your baby’s presence. When you were confident that you had bought yourself enough time by doing so, you finally set your plan in motion starting with a scream.

You fell onto your side, clutching at your stomach as though in pain and trying to draw on your memories of your last moments with Maul to force those that kept you locked away to feel your grief. As you predicted, the guards immediately rushed to look into your cell and a second later one of them was yelling down the hall for healer to hurry. You closed your eyes tight, focused on being convincing as the healer rushed in and ordered for you to be moved to the medical bay. She was asking you questions and you worked to overwhelm her.

(E-TW) It worked, she fled for just a moment to fetch Ki-Adi and a senior healer but forgot to affix the binders they always did to ensure you didn’t try to escape. You had to be quick - as soon as the coast was clear you leapt from the bed as well as you could and fled the medical bay. Although every instinct in you screamed for you to flee the temple entirely, you knew you were as good as dead without your sabers. So, you pushed on and broke back into the temple using old passageways you’d memorized as a padawan to avoid detection as you strained your ears for the familiar songs of your kyber crystals mixed with the low, almost growl-like hum of Maul’s saber which was undoubtedly being kept with yours.

But that was the problem - they were going to be heavily guarded. But something happened that you weren’t expecting. You could feel the confusion of Dariah from here, she had undoubtedly just discovered you were missing and had just sent out the call for all temple guards to be on the lookout for you which was going to make your job about thirty times harder. You paused in a darkened alcove just a hallway aware from where you thought they were being held, trying to think of strategy that would get you your sabers back without too many guards spotting you. Suddenly, you heard it - the familiar warping wails of the twin kyber crystals, more mournful than ever, and a low, angry hum supporting their descending melody. The sabers were close by. The atmosphere shifted then, the wailing of your crystals growing louder and louder while the hum of Maul’s grew angrier and more menacing - darker. Something was happening nearby, something awful enough for the crystals to react. Discretion forgotten, you pushed forward out of the shadows.

The wailing grew louder the closer you got, the songs of your crystals growing more desperate while the dark thrum of Maul’s grew more triumphant. Whatever it was must be dark. You rounded the corner that would bring you to the hallway and to the room where the three lightsabers were being kept prepared for a fight. But what you saw was much, much worse. The guards that were supposed to be standing before the doorway had crumpled to the ground - dead. At their feet lay the three lightsabers and the door they had been guarding remained shut though there was a small hole cut through it. “Oh no...” you whispered to the empty hallway, horror beginning to set in.

You were given no reprieve, no time to wonder who had helped you - you barely had enough time to pick up the three lightsabers and take off. You’d all but forgone slinking through the shadows, there was no way the Jedi hadn’t sensed the sudden deaths within the temple walls; they were most likely on their way to the epicenter of the disturbance and you no longer had the time to be patient. You had to get off Coruscant. You didn’t know where you’d go but it would have to be somewhere far off. The Outer Rim, maybe? Or Wild Space? It wouldn’t matter.

You burst out into the Temple Courtyard, unaware your feet had even carried you in that direction, and continued to book it as fast as your body would allow given your condition. You were fortunate it was a move too bold for them to suspect you to use it. There was a long enough delay between you breaking free of the temple and the exclamation of alarm from the guards that you had already made it halfway towards the outer wall. Scaling it would be the most difficult part.

“Padawan, stop!” Instincts took over. You immediately paused and looked over your shoulder at Ki-Adi’s command. He was standing on the top steps with three or four guards behind him, each one with yellow sabers drawn. Ki-Adi, however, held a hand out to you. You could feel the familiar, gentle nudge of his presence asking you to stay put. No one moved though which caused a moment of doubt in the back of your mind. Maybe he really was asking you to stay, then? Maybe he had forgiven your lapse in judgement?

Except, you didn’t consider it a lapse. Maul had made you happy. This child already made you happy. Both had already succeeded where the Jedi had failed. You didn’t need to be forgiven. You didn’t want to be forgiven. And what was there to forgive? The breaking of an archaic, restrictive code - one that had always made you miserable? One that promised peace yet created suffering by refusing to allow for two of life’s greatest pleasures - loving and being loved? Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Ki-Adi was trying to placate you so the guards could recapture you. You needed to run. You felt like a cornered animal debating its next move. If you motioned to run, those guards would immediately give chase. But, if you pretended to surrender you could draw the guards closer and send them back with one harsh shove. It would buy you a little more time to get over the wall. You bowed your head in surrender.

There was no verbal command but you could hear the quiet shifting of the guards’ robes as they all began to descend the steps. You began to count the seconds. There was a spot on the steps where they would have to form two lines in order to descend. You would have to wait till they were evenly spread apart before acting as to ensure you caught as many as you could off-guard.

So, you waited whilst trying to channel all the anger you could muster. Through Passion, I gain Strength.

Through Strength, I gain Power. Now! Now! Now! Your mind screamed at you and you listened - raising your head in time with both of your hands you pushed with all of your might and knocked every guard off of their feet. One, towards the back, fell towards Ki-Adi who immediately caught them before they hit the hard stone. You didn’t stick around to see what would happen next.

You were lucky you weren’t at the very top of the Temple as that meant you did not have to contend with the massive jump and slide down the temple wall. But you still faced a steep drop on the other side. Summoning your energy once again, you braced at the bottom of the wall and leaped, catching the lip with your hands whilst trying to use your legs to absorb most of the impact. It still hurt like hell though when you collided, the shock zipped up your legs straight to your hips which made the already sore joints ache. Had it not been for the force, you were certain you would have shattered something. “Hold on, little one.” You muttered, out of breath, “it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

“Padawan, stop, please!” Ki-Adi yelled again from behind you and you chanced a glance back. He was descending the steps as quickly as he could with the guards hot on his heels.

You turned away and hauled yourself up. The Jedi do not care about you, my light, they only care about the preservation of their order. Maul’s voice echoed around your head. His words so familiar, had been the catalyst of one of your biggest fights. Now, you realized he’d been right. The Jedi didn’t care whether you lived or died because of their miserable ideals they only sought the chance to further their reach.

The only one that had ever truly cared about you was Maul.

You came to the ledge and before you was a sheer plummet to the first level of Coruscant, below was the underworld and the only shot you had at getting off planet undetected.

The only one that had ever truly cared about you was Maul.

And you were the only one who would truly care for Wild.

“Padawan!” You jumped.

.......................................................

“Oh, Maul...” you didn’t know what to say.

He took in a deep breath, hands falling to hold your elbows in a loose grasp while his eyes bored into your own. “But they aren’t true. Obviously.” He smiled, small and toothy, “there were stories that a padawan had been arrested on Naboo for conspiracy against the Jedi and that they had escaped custody only to fall to their death outside the temple walls however,” his hand swept up to whisper his fingers

#unfinished #maul x reader #star wars #star wars x reader

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