#i had a nightmare about going back to university and woke up in a cold sweat then forgot about it and couldn’t figure out why i felt

[dreamspring]

the vibe recently. 😐

[oswildin]

i’d wanna be next to you (loki x g!n reader)

Summary: Loki made a vow that he would savour every single moment with you. (Inspired by ‘Die With A Smile’ by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars) - Fluffy, romantic, cute??

A/N: AU where Loki didn’t die in Infinity War but came close. Drabbleish? Idk, but it’s not that long lmao. No descriptors for reader.

Rating: All ages/SFW

LOKI MASTERLIST

I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

Loki awoke with a start, heart beating frantically in his chest as he sat up in his bed, the silence in his room almost piercing. He let out a heavy breath, a sigh almost, a hand running through his raven curls as he grounded himself to the moment, to his surroundings. He was in his room in New Asgard… His blue eyes flickered to the mattress beside him, seeing your form sleeping peacefully… Alive. Breathing. Unharmed.

Relief filled him, his panic slowly ebbing as he closed his eyes for a second to compose. It had been three years since… everything. Three years since half the universe was snapped away at the hands of Thanos… Three years since Loki almost… The God swallowed, brows pinching together faintly as the memories flashed through his mind. His dreams were almost just as vivid… He often had nightmares of the event, over and over, yet with each one there was a small difference. If it wasn’t him dying, it was Thor… If it wasn’t Thor… It was you. The fear of losing you… It could sometimes be too much to bear.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

After a few moments, Loki slowly shifted, careful not to disturb you as he nestled closer, your back against his chest, his arm draped gently over your waist as he held you. His face buried itself into your neck, taking in your comforting warmth, your scent, your everything… Reminding himself that you were okay. That you were alive. He felt you shift faintly, a soft sigh leaving you as he felt your hand rest over his around your front.

“You okay?” He heard you mumble sleepily, clearly sensing something was amiss. You always knew. He could never lie to you - a rare feat indeed. He didn’t reply straight away, savouring the quiet, the peace… He let out a quiet ‘hmm’ against your skin, his hold tightening on you ever so slightly. “Sure?” You whispered, thumb brushing against his cooler, pale hand. You knew of his dreams, he wouldn’t tell you all the details, but you knew enough to know that it still affected him - well, of course it would.

“As long as you’re here, I’m always okay.” He murmured quietly, his lips brushing your neck.

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you

If the party was over

And our time on Earth was through

I'd wanna hold you just for a while

And die with a smile

You allowed him the comfort of holding you, feeling his chest rising and falling gently against your back, his breaths against your skin. Minutes passed before you finally shuffled under the sheets, turning in his embrace to be able to face him. In the dim light, Loki’s gaze was soft, his features also soft, everything about him was soft… Especially, when it came to you.

After his near death, the snap… He was reminded how… mortal he really was, how easily his light could be snuffed out. Regret. That was what he had felt, knowing he could’ve done things differently, not been so cold or angry… Envious. It was different to when he fell from the Bifrost, it was a different kind of fear… And he realised it was because when Thanos’ hand was around his neck… He realised he wanted to live. He wanted to finally have the sun shine on him. He still struggled, but after those days, he vowed he would savour every moment he got. Gods lived so long but truly valued very little. Not anymore. He never failed to tell you how he felt about you, knowing now that life was far too precious, too short… Especially for you, a mortal.

And nobody was promised tomorrow.

Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only one worth fighting for

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Loki breathed out, feeling your fingers brush a stray curl from his forehead, his arm still holding you close.

“It’s okay.” You assured him softly, thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly before your hand moved to cup his jaw. You knew it was another dream. “Who needs sleep anyway?” You asked playfully, trying to lighten his spirits. You could see his lips tug upwards ever so slightly in the dim light, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nose.

“Mortals.” He replied wryly, making you hum in agreement. “And certain Gods who enjoy sleeping next to said mortals.” He added, a hint of his usual mirth returning.

“Well, I do hope that when it comes to one God, it’s only one specific mortal he enjoys sleeping next to…” You teased. “Otherwise that one specific mortal may be a little upset.” You couldn’t help but let your own lips curl upwards gently, Loki letting out a brief, very quiet laugh.

“You are correct… there is only one specific mortal that this God enjoys sleeping next to.” He confirmed playfully, voice full of warmth in the hushed intimacy between you. “Even when they snore- Ow!” You tugged at his earlobe lightly with the hand that had been cupping his jaw, laughing breathily. “I believe you just assaulted the King’s favourite advisor.” He quipped, feigning a chiding tone.

“Val would support it.” You argued, shrugging faintly - well, the best you could in the embrace you were both in. Loki let out an unconvinced hum. “And favourite advisor? You’re her only advisor.”

“For very good reason.” Loki leaned closer. “Because I’m her favourite.” He whispered, as if sharing a secret before he let his nose brush against yours faintly.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

“I love you, Loki Odinson.” You whispered, matching his softness. It never failed to make Loki’s heart skip and swell as those words left your lips. Every time. To be loved… Wholly and completely… Unconditionally… It was something he still didn’t believe he deserved. But it was something he would always cling to, especially in the darkness that had encompassed the world, the universe, in the last three years… The darkness that had threatened to drag him back many a times.

“And I love you.” Loki breathed, your faces mere inches from one another. “More than you can ever imagine.” His words were truthful, utterly honest and heartfelt… from a God who once wove lies and lived in deceit… With you, he found his truth.

After a few seconds, Loki placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, arms tightening around you to pull you even closer. Your own arm wrapped around him, burying your face into his chest, breathing him in. He was your hope in the darkness, just as you were his. And whilst you both knew the end was inevitable, that heartbreak was inevitable being a mortal and a God… You couldn’t help but smile. Because if the world was ending…

I'd wanna be next to you

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Part of your world

---

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Word count: 4500

Warnings: none

Content: soulmates, longing, loneliness

---

“Why hasn’t she shown up for her assignment yet?”, Miguel questioned his AI assistant, tapping his fingers away as he scheduled another spiderman to take up your work.

“Didn’t you hear?”, LYLA asked him.

 “Hear about what?”, he turned to her feeling confused.

“She quit.”, LYLA spoke to him as she filed her nails.

“Why didn’t I know about this?”, he grew tense.

“Wait, it’s your job to tell me these things.”, he was annoyed, sure, you skipped out on your task but not having you around him somehow felt more worse.

“I did.”, LYLA yawned feeling unenthused by this conversation.

“You didn’t seem to fret about it too much?”, she continued hopping around him studying expression.

He slumped back into his chair, how had it slipped his mind?

“I sanction the resignations, why wasn’t it passed by me?”, he questioned further. Was there a flaw in the system he didn't know about?

“Because she had a valid reason.”, LYLA searched through her storage to bring up your video.

“I’ve found him, at last. Now I want to embrace a quieter life with him, one that is without all this madness.”, he watched you speak, gesturing to his monitors behind you. His sleep ridden eyes latched onto your face in the recording as though the very sight of you was the remedy for his aching heart.

He could feel his claws take shape, he wanted to go berserk, to trash everything that was in front of him. But seeing the way you sighed, like you had enough, his heart only softened more.

“Tell Miguel I’m sorry.”, was the last he heard your voice before his screen flashed to black. Leaving him to sit in the silence, with the inevitable truth that you had left. You didn’t choose spider society. You didn’t choose him. He hung his head, after years, after being the very reason he set out to enter the multiverse, he didn’t get the only desire he longed for.

He reached for his vial and took a shot, his shoulder stinging with pain, he had to rest or much rather forget. He got up and left, with less vigour than when he arrived, than when he thought he had a chance. Now it was all lost, again, over and over, why couldn’t he have one good lasting moment before it got ripped away from him.

Entering his apartment, he embraced the darkness as he trudged into his room. His suit deactivating to expose his skin to the cold, he didn’t want the warmth, it reminded him of you. But ever since he had seen you, his dreams were replaced with nightmares. Every time he slept, he would wake up in a realm where you were next to him. His dreams of Gabriella and his time as a father was now replaced with his longing for love.

You wouldn’t let him sleep, every move you made he would feel it as though it was real, as though this was his life with your fingers on his cheeks, your body looping in and out of his bed sheets. Your hair spread out on his chest, his heart always skipping a beat when you lifted your head to see him. But he could never hold you close or stop you from leaving.

Nightmares. Like now, your siren like voice telling him to find you, your lips saying sweet nothings as you kissed his forehead and the ease he felt as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was going to go mad at this rate and no amount of his green vials could save him.

He woke up gasping for air as cold sweat dripped from his forehead. He took a few seconds to calm down as he sat in the dark room, alone, pulled away from your touch,  the only light coming through the window from the city that never slept, just like him, kept alive by your neon lights. He hid his face in his hands. Desperate, he couldn’t settle or digest the fact that he was going to be lonely, forever.

That is, only if he could find you again. He stopped himself. The fear gripped him. He had already done it before, jumping universes in search of a better life and it ended with him losing his daughter. If he were to try again and as a result lose you completely. His eyes widened, he didn’t know how he would continue to exist.

Atleast now, he looked out at the view, you were happy in someone else’s arms. So he settled into his pillows again, you were better off without having to be with him. But one gnawing question chewed on his self control. Who was this mystery man? This ordinary fool who was lucky to have you?

He retracted and detracted his claws as he couldn’t seem to find an answer instead a solution arose in his mind. He could never live in peace if this question was left unanswered. So knowing the pain that he would carry coming to know that he couldn’t be the one, he needed closure. He got up, activating his suit in the dead of night to grab his gadget and head to where you were.

Your city was quaint, it was unlike Nueva York. He could begin to understand the appeal, as he quietly swung over the roof line, it had a suburbian aspect to it,most of the lights were out, the neighborhood was sleeping and as he got closer to your house, he breathed a sigh of relief. The lights in your living room were turned on. But as he approached the slope of your roof, he spotted another parked car outside your house. It was a utility vehicle with soil bags and horse food in it’s truck. So you fell in love with a farmer. That was the complete opposite of who he was.

Taking in a deep breath, he prepared himself as he got closer to an open window, and there you were. In the warm glow of your lamp, seated on your comfy couch, speaking to this man.

Could Nueva York ever offer you a semblance of the beauty you had here?

The more he watched your mannerisms, it was clear you were having an argument of some kind.

“I gave up the mantle.”, he could hear the agony in your voice.

“Isn’t that enough?”, you held onto the edge of this man’s sleeve.

“I don’t want you to stop being you just so you can be with me, amor.”, he heard the man speak and his heart stopped.

He leaned in and there he was, a version of him, the one who lived in this universe. An ordinary version of himself. You had fallen in love with him, just in another world, he touched the glass as though it was a barrier.

“But you know it’s more than that.”, his version spoke as he pulled away your hands from him to hold it together.

“I just don’t feel the same.”, he placed them on your lap as he took his car keys.

“No, just give it time.”, you got up along with him.

“Just give us time.”, you pleaded but it was falling on deaf ears. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Watching him leave and take with him the future you desired.

He hugged you and you were the only one who was an emotional mess. He kissed your forehead and whispered goodbye, leaving you to stand in the middle of your living room like a ghost as the door closed softly while you kept thinking this wasn’t how it was to be. But as the clock struck twelve, you let the sorrow take you as you fell to the ground, weeping.

He wanted to run to you, to hold you and tell you that he did love you, that he would give you all the time in the world. But this was how it was, like the glass layer separating him from you, he will always be outside looking in and never by your side. He heard the vehicle drive away and all he could think was that the version of him who was here had to be the stupidest.

Maybe he could convince his version to come back.

But with the silent night stretching on and your quiet sobs breaking his heart, he wanted to intervene, even when his mind was telling no. He wouldn’t alter your story by involving himself in it. He stilled when an idea came to him.

If he pretended to be this other version … no

He couldn’t pretend anymore, that was what got him into this mess.

But maybe just long enough to ease you. Maybe. Definitely. He swung away in search of a change of clothes, which he found outside someone’s house that was kept out to be taken. He then purchased a roll of bandage from the pharmacy, to put the hand his gadget was on in a cast to disguise it.

He stood outside your door, suddenly nervous to knock, he paused to muse his hair, trying his best to look like the man you had fallen in love with because he knew he was nothing like him.

He knocked and heard you run to the door. It opened to the sound of your voice calling his name and he forgot why he was here. As he crossed the threshold, he could tell this was what his dreams were about, that he too unknowingly had longed for an ordinary life with you. His distant eyes were brought back when he felt you wrap him in a hug. He relaxed into your hold.

“You came back?”, he heard you ask and the breath in his lungs vanished as the warmth of your body seeped through him. This was real.

“I was an idiot.”, he replied.

An idiot to have not told you sooner about your significance in his life.

“I realized the moment you weren’t in my life, oscureció cada rincón de mi universo.”, he let his hand hold you close. All this was his own truth.

“A few seconds away and you’ve turned into a poet.”, you sniffed pushing away from him to see his face again. He was never this eloquent before.

But you brushed it aside, intertwining your fingers with his as you led him to the couch to only then see the cast. “Were you in an accident?”, you asked worriedly.

“No.”, he looked like he was new to your place, observant of your surroundings, of you.

“Just pulled a muscle as I slammed the car door.”, he explained but you could sense that something wasn’t right. The timing of when he left, he would have been half way across the city by now and it would be impossible for him to make a return trip so soon. You leaned towards your blinds and peeked outside, the road was empty. He had walked to your house.

“So you’ve changed your mind?”, you asked him. His eyes now on you as if they were alive with adoration.

“I’ve loved you since the beginning, what is there to change?”, he said lost in the proximity and the color of your eyes. You were caught in a moment and almost felt your soul stir before his eyes widened as though he remembered something and leaned away.

“I mean, what I said before I left doesn’t hold true anymore.”, he clarified himself as he cleared his throat.

You hummed, placing your hand on his cheek to trace your thumb over his top lip, he froze under your touch.

“Where’s your scar gone?”, you asked, now sure about who this was.

“What scar?”, he furrowed his brows and it only confirmed your suspicions.

You reached forward and ripped the bandage to see the multiverse portal gadget on his hand, leaving you both in a state of shock.

“Do you think this is funny?”, you grew tense, but your frustration had found it's breaking point.

“No let me explain – you cut him off.

"For a second I almost believed you.", you pushed away from him as he tried to reach for you, your eyes turning cold and distant.

"Hold on that was the truth – he began to argue but you had no interest to listen to him. This would end in a disaster if he kept popping up into your life.

"I want you to leave,", you walk back to him.

"Go back to Nueva York.", you said as you reached for his gadget to set the coordinates but he pulled away his hand.

"What?", he asked looking baffled.

"Leave. I don’t want you here.", you seethed but you were fighting back tears.

"After what I witnessed? That you were in love with a version of me?", he reached for your hand again, his eyes searching yours.

"No.", he said resolutely.

"Why won’t you just leave me alone?", you pulled away from his touch afraid that it might set of a world ending event.

"Because without you in my life, it withers away.", he said in an outburst which caused you to freeze. Your eyes widened as clutched the side of his head in pain.

"I feel like I’ve told you this before.", he winced and you but you lip.

"You did.", you said softly.

"But I made you forget, in the hopes my departure would not break you.", you found his eyes and you had to look away because they shimmered with the hurt of having been betrayed.

"You did what?", he gasped as he asked.

"Miguel, you are all about the canon. We, are not canon.", you wrapped your arms around you.

He got up and slowly approached you.

"But we are.", he said softly, like that was the reason for everything in his life.

"We are, when we fall in love within our respective universes.", you sniffed, trying to push away the utter hopeless you felt,

"You knew?", he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice, to which you nodded.

"So find my version in your universe and let go of me.", you looked up at him and watched him crumble.

"I can’t.", he said, the edges of his eyes glistening.

"You don’t exist in my universe, the first time that has happened.", he looked away as he explained.

"How do you know?", you asked.

"Cause you were the reason I made this.", he pointed to the gadget in his wrist, your eyes widening at his words.

"To come find you, but when I couldn’t, I settled for a life in another universe that I thought would soothe me, instead I lost it too.", A small tear drop ran down his cheek, breaking to utter bits.

"My logic was right, but his heart wasn’t it in. It’s the first time this has happened too, you rejecting me.", you reached up to wipe his tear, when

"Give me a chance.", he whispered.

You couldn't help but scoff because you knew the life he had to offer.

"You can’t give me something you don’t have?", you told him maintaining eye contact.

"And what is that?", he furrowed his brows.

"A chance to enjoy the mundane.", you replied, now impatient to put this conversation to an end. It had caused enough hurt for the both of you. But he didn't stop.

"Come back with me and I’ll show you", he held out his hand for you, as though it was only your to take.

"Miguel", you tried to protest but he was adamant.

"Just one day.", he pleaded.

"And by the end of it, tell me you felt nothing and I’ll bring you back.", he was being honest.

You looked at his out stretched hand, the hope in his eyes and the years of longing with which he said,

"Just, please.", he took a step closer to you.

You knew how he truly felt about you, because he appeared one night outside your balcony as you were watching the night sky to tell all of it. To tell you that you made his nights torturous with your presence invading his mind. You felt it too, that connection, the tug on your heart everytime he entered the room almost as if there was a thread that pulled you to him.

He was lonely, so were you. Tired of trying to find the other in your own worlds when in the sleepy state you were in, you let yourself lean into his touch. So he pulled you in, his warm body keeping away the chillness of the night. You knew this was going to be a mistake, the stake of the universe hanging over your head. The monitor on your desk had come back with no results, in your search for his version in your universe.

So maybe being here in his arms was the closest you could get. And after endless days craving for him to arrive in your life, maybe you could just enjoy this second. So you pulled him close and kissed him.

Desperate hearts finding solace in the warmth of the other.

But after that, one thing led to another, he carried you as he undid your buttons, you kissed him not wanting to be anywhere else. You had spent the night together and that was the first time you had seen him sleep so peacefully, his hand resting on your back as you rested your head on his chest.

Nothing had happened, the universe didn’t collapse but maybe it was because you hadn’t told him that you loved him. But as you were contemplating on trying it out, you monitor beeped. It's search result coming back with one positive result. And it was brutal the pain you felt, as though it was separating two souls that were one, to leave him behind, to pull away from his arms. But it had to be, your story was never meant to intersect with his.

So you did the most heart breaking thing you had ever done. He had to forget this, forget you, so you placed your finger on his forehead as he stirred awake. His eyes lighting up the moment they spotted you, his mouth opening to tell you that he loved you but you couldn’t let it happen. Not now after you knew this was going to break the canon storyline. You activated your telepathic powers and watched as his words turned into a whisper as he was put into another sleep. When he woke up again, he would have no recollection of all this.

But now as he stood before you, with the same agonizing expression, you couldn’t find the strength to tell him no. Not when after everything, you were both alone again.

“Fine. One day.”, you said subduing your fears as to what the outcome might be.

All you craved now was to just be by his side and as you took his hand, there it was, that resurgence within you, that spark, one you did not feel with his version in your world.

The moment you got back, he was pulled away for work and so were you. But he didn’t let go of you, he had you next to him as he slotted the assignments while you both enjoyed a late brunch to take out noodles. He was laughing, making jokes, and the very essence of his joy lightened you up as well. Swiftly using his chopsticks, he held out a piece of honey chicken up to you, as if this was how it had always been. You and him sitting in his office whiling away time. You leaned in to take a bite, you were sure he never shared his meals with anyone else before.

Overseeing spider society’s progress demanded he got out of his office and so he took you with him. Although you were both indulged in doing your jobs, it felt fun doing it together. He instructed the new recruits while you pointed them towards their allotted sections. As he spoke to them, he would sneak glances at you, reminding himself of your presence and that was enough to get him going.

The latter part of the day was spent catching criminals here in Nueva York and a couple anomalies from a few other universes. But it was different than what you had thought it would have been, a life with him. It was well balanced. Sweet in the slow moments, thrilling in the adventurous journeys and mostly, less lonely. That in his soft touches and murmurs, you could feel your heart had found a home in his.

The day was coming to an end. He didn’t need to remind himself of it, because you hadn’t told him of your decision yet. So he got you some ice cream before he took you to the highest point in Nueva York, so that your final moment could just be with him.

It was surprising, he knew everything about you, what you liked, what you disliked and unlike the menacing image he had instilled in everyone’s mind, he showed you his truest nature. One that was gentle, kind and nurturing. All your favourite qualities. The city looked tiny below you as he found his spot next to you. The sky a painting of orange and pink as you thought of what you were going to do.

“Why did you make me forget?”, he turned to you.

You popped the end of your waffle cone into your mouth as you told him, “I kissed you and I didn't want to hurt you.”

He gave you a nod, his eyes looking away at the distant view before finding yours again.

“Right and I,”, he paused, his gaze well aware of what had happened between you two. You nodded in response, dusting your hands.

“It's all coming back to me now.”, he said softly and it reopened the hurt you felt.

“I didn’t mean to erase our time together, Miguel.”, you inched closer to him.

“I was sure it was you, but then that was when I had found him and I was scared,”, you couldn’t face him, you couldn't finish the sentence.

“You were scared you would destabilize the universe.”, he held his hands together.

“I've been there.”, he sighed.

“How cruel,”, you laughed pushing away his wind swept hair.

“Fated but just but of reach.”, you said to which e huffed a laugh too as his expression sobered when his eyes found yours.

The sun was now a red ball of fire descending into the horizon as his hand inched closer his pinky finger touching yours.

“So what’s it going to be?”, he asked turning to you, asking you how you felt about this day, if was enough to give you a taste of everything he had to offer.

“I… I liked today.”, you said sheepishly but there was line you couldn't cross.

“Maybe we could be friends?”, you suggested, to which he vehemently declined.

“That won’t do.”, he smiled.

“I want you constantly. In my arms, in my head, in my bed, everywhere.”, he gestured with his hands, as though being high in the sky deemed him confident enough to spill his secrets.

“Ah then I’m afraid the canon universe is going to crumble.”, you bumped his shoulder with yours.

“I’m afraid so.”, he said with a sad smile.

As the stars began to descent into the twilight sky, he just couldn’t seem to let you go. If that kid got away with breaking canon events and did his own thing.

What’s to say he couldn’t?

He looked at you, he wasn’t doing anything too drastic. A sense of resolve settled over him. He took your hand in his. This felt good and solid and true. So maybe, it was just his own thinking that was stopping him.

“But what if we did?”, he asked.

You didn’t want to leave, this was the life you were trying to mimic, back in your universe but you couldn’t happened because it needed him, the man who held your hand as his eyes mirrored the sky.

“What?”, you asked not quite following his train of thought.

“See where this goes?”, he answered to which you laughed.

“Miguel o’hara wants to break the canon, LYLA would have a fit of she could hear this.”, you continued.

“I’m being serious.”, he got you to look at him as you stilled.

Maybe you had gotten it wrong. You had kissed him and nothing had happened. He said he loved you and the world didn’t end. So maybe, you were searching for the wrong man. Maybe he had been right in front of you this whole time.

“And what is your reason to wreck the universe this time?”, you smiled as you caressed his cheek. His eyes softening as he felt your touch.

“I just really want to kiss you.”, he whispered and with the he guided your chin towards him to place his lips on yours.

Your heart was in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that if you opened them you might see him vanish. He held your hand tight, as though you were the only one that could offer him solace in his fears. A few seconds passed and he pulled away to see you, to check if everything was lost. But it hadn't, everything remained the same. The soft wind rustling your hair, the gentle moonlight illuminating his face as the night sky provided you with the cover to truly enjoy the meaning of this revelation.

That you were meant for each other.

“The world is still intact?”, he asked holding onto the side of your face.

“I believe so.”, you mumbled, now only wanting to crawl up into his arms.

He hummed as he picked you up in joy. To then seat you on his lap to face him, this was how it had been that night, irresistibly drawn to each other because your hearts were tied together. Now there was no need to run.

“No sabes lo feliz que me hace oírte decir eso.”, his hand found the back of you neck while you leaned closer to seal any gap between you and him. Your hands sprawled across his chest as he pulled you in.

“I might had an idea.”, you smiled and that small gesture was enough for him to find your lips again in a passionate kiss, because he wasn’t going to be alone anymore, all his sacrifices had led him to you.

“I’ve always longed to be a part of your world.”, he spoke in between his kisses, as he continued till he sat back breathless.

You looked down at his flushed cheeks as he gasped for air but didn't want to let go as though he didn’t want to waste another second of this new found life.

You didn’t want to either, so you pulled him by the collar of his suit and kissed him again beneath the starlit sky.

[herofics]

No Longer Mine, part 2

A/N: Well, the first part of this fic, aka No Longer Mine, got very popular, at least compared to many of my other posts. I was planning on writing a second part anyway, but I also got a lot of comments asking for one so I’m happy to write this. I feel like I can’t get Nanami’s “voice” right, so the dialogue feels OOC, but I’m too tired to try to keep changing it. Hope you like this one too :D (Part 3 coming when I get around to it)

Some people asked to be tagged, so here’s that list: @labelt-san @username23345 @ourfinalisation

Word count: 1.9k

You didn’t know who else to call. You felt this horrible pit or dread growing in your stomach. Did you have anyone left? Were your friends from before your missing time even alive anymore? There was always a chance of dying suddenly because of the work you did. You didn’t have your phone and you didn’t remember anyone else’s number except for Gojo’s and maybe Nanami’s, you weren’t really sure. You decided to ask the nurse for a phone anyway and take your chances.

Nanami was in the middle of showering, so he couldn’t get to the phone when he heard it ring. No matter, he could just call whoever it was back. He had no idea that returning that phone call would turn his life upside down.

Six months had passed since your return, and a day hadn’t gone by that Gojo hadn’t thought of you. He felt guilty for not looking for you when you went missing, and on the other hand he felt guilty because all these thoughts were happening while he laid awake in bed, with his fiancée asleep next to him. He loved Ava, he really did, but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For the first time since you were found on that side street in Tokyo six months ago, you woke up feeling content. It had certainly been an adjustment period after you got out of the hospital. All the nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat or just straight up screaming in your sleep. For the first month after you got released from the hospital, you stayed at Nanami’s place with the intention of looking for a place of your own. He let you take the bed while he slept on the couch. He woke you up from countless nightmares and held you as you cried about something you couldn’t even remember.

You were angry a lot of the time. Angry at whoever had taken four years of your life, angry at yourself, and angry at Gojo. It was the main emotion in your life for months. No matter how much you screamed and cried, no matter how many pillows and coffee cups you obliterated, Nanami stood by you through all of it.

It was very much like you were going through the five stages of grief. Denial happened at the hospital when you first found out that four years of your life had been stolen. Anger was with you for the whole process, and no matter how much you bargained, begged the universe that you would do anything to just go back, it didn’t happen. Life just doesn’t work that way. You don’t get second chances and you don’t get to go back in time to change things. The depression part wasn’t easy either. Sometimes you would pretty much go for days at a time without even getting out of bed. Nanami was still there, he made sure you ate something every day. He made sure you would get through it.

You were there to welcome him home from every mission, even during your worst days, you made sure to say “hi” to him when he came back. You were there to patch him up if he needed it. At some point he started actually looking forward to coming home, it wasn’t just a house anymore, it was a home, because you were there. He never wanted to pressure you into anything, the relationship just happened.

At some point during those six months, you and Nanami had become close. You had been friends before, but this was something different. At some point he didn’t leave the bed anymore after calming you down when you had a nightmare, at some point you just let it happen, you didn’t want him to go. At some point, you too, moved on. Finally, after six months, you found yourself waking up feeling content.

“Good morning sleepyhead” you whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Morning” he muttered sleepily.

“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you sleep past nine in the morning” you chuckled.

“I forgot to set an alarm, it seems” Nanami sighed, turning to face you.

“Do you have any missions for today?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest with your finger tips.

"No, today is all for you" he said softly, as he placed his hand on yours on his chest.

“That’s good to hear” you smiled. “I was wondering if we could go to Shinjuku? I need to get some shopping done. I still owe you some coffee cups…”

“Sounds good” he said.

The two of you got out of bed and before you knew it, you had eaten breakfast and were on your way to Shinjuku. Ijichi was kind enough to drive you, and you agreed he’d come pick you up later in the day.

You’d gone into a few shops, but nothing had struck your fancy, so you hadn’t bought anything yet. You were just enjoying your time out with Nanami. That’s when you noticed a familiar, tall, white haired figure in the crowd.

“Kento?” you squeaked.

“Hmm?”

“I think Gojo is here” ever since that day at the hospital, you hadn’t been able to call him by his first name. Not that you really needed to anyway, you weren’t together, nor were you even in contact at all anymore.

You’d been doing your best to avoid him and it seemed he had done the same, and now you just happened to run into each other. It was like the universe was giving you a giant middle finger. You tried to move so Nanami was between you and Gojo, so he wouldn’t see you.

Gojo didn’t notice you at first, he just saw Nanami, but he of course wanted to say hello to his colleague. It was quite crowded, so Gojo didn’t see you until his hand was already almost on Nanami’s shoulder. When he saw you, he froze, his hand just hovering a few centimeters above his colleague’s shoulder, before he pulled it back.

“Oh, hey” Gojo muttered.

“Satoru, I almost lost you in the crowd, you walk too fast” Ava said, as she appeared from behind him.

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to say “hey” to Nanami and… (Last Name)”

Ava’s eyes widened as she realized who you were. She’d heard about you from Gojo, she’d seen your grave, you were supposed to be dead. That’s what she’d been told, that’s what her fiancé had told her, but here you were.

“Oh. Nice to meet you (Last Name). I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée” she said with a beaming smile, while hanging onto Gojo’s arm, offering her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too” you said, shaking her hand, trying your best to smile back at her, but it felt awkward.

That’s when Gojo noticed it. You were holding Nanami’s hand. He felt an ember of anger flame up in his chest for just a second, but that was enough for you, Nanami and Ava to notice the spike in his cursed energy fluctuation. However, you were the only one who noticed what he was looking at when it happened. He quickly quelled his anger, but it was already too late.

“Oh screw you” you muttered under your breath, before turning away and rushing off.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Nanami questioned with an angry tone. “They’ve gone through enough”

Nanami took off after you, leaving Gojo just standing there, confused, with an annoyed Ava still hanging onto his arm. As Ava tightened her grip on Gojo’s arm, he could already basically hear the argument that was going to happen as soon as he got home with her. It was his own fault really, he hadn’t told her about you being back. He wasn’t even sure why he had even done that. It’s not like he had feelings for you anymore, right? His body just reacted, a spike in cursed energy meant absolutely nothing.

It didn’t take Nanami long to find you. He knew your favorite sweets shop was nearby, and that’s where he found you. You were just wandering amongst the shelves, muttering something to yourself.

“Are you alright?” Nanami asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You placed a hand on top of his and just sighed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off. He just makes me so mad, especially when things like that happen”

“I know, beautiful, I know” Nanami sighed.

“You felt it too, right? How his cursed energy spiked when he saw us holding hands”

“Are you sure that was the reason? I know he’s immature and arrogant, but surely not to that extent” Nanami said.

“I told him he moved on like I was nothing, when he came to see me at the hospital. Now he must think I’m worse, because it’s only been six months since I came back and I’m already with you” you rambled.

“If he has a problem with us, he needs to come out and say it” Nanami stated sternly. “He’s not allowed to get angry about how you moved on and with who, he doesn’t have that right anymore”

“I know, but I still feel like shit about it” you sighed.

“How about we buy some of your favorite sweets and go back home?”

“Home huh… Sounds good to me” you smiled tiredly.

Even that little encounter with you had made Gojo feel like his head was going to explode. Now with Ava complaining at him, it was even worse.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were alive?!” she hissed loudly as she paced back and forth in front of him.

“How many times do I have to tell you: I don’t know!” Gojo groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sat on the couch.

“How do you not know something like that!? You consciously decided to lie to me about this, so how do you not know?!”

“I-I just don’t! Okay?! Could you stop fucking talking, your voice is giving me a damn migraine…” Gojo yelled, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Wow” Ava scoffed in disbelief. “You know what? You can go back to that bitch for all I care” she hissed venomously, before marching out of the room.

“Fuck” Gojo sighed, and laid down on the couch.

He could feel the migraine coming on and now he felt like shit about yelling at Ava too. Gojo didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, it’s not like he’d been seeing you behind her back. Hell, he hadn’t seen you a single time since that day at the hospital, so why did it matter? Why did you matter? Why did he still care? You had gotten so upset at him for moving on during the four years he thought you were dead, and now you had moved on with someone else in six months.

He just needed some sleep, right? He would just wake up from this nightmare the next morning and the past four and a half years would all turn out to have been a bad dream. You would be there next to him and he would never have to even think about you with someone else again. The thought made him feel guilty. He was with Ava, why was he still thinking about you? Why was he always thinking about you?

[kittykat-25]

One Of The Guys - Part 4

Pairings: Hongjoong x F! Reader, Chan x F! Reader

Genre: idol au, Friends x Lovers, angst

Warnings: anxiety attacks, Feminine pet names(cupcake, bubs, love)

Summary: You tried really hard not to be a cliché, falling love with your best friend. How unoriginal. But when your best friend is Kim Hongjoong what are you supposed to do?

Now Playing: One Of The Guys- Jessia

One Week Later…

You woke up head pounding, cold sweats from the nightmare you had. As you sit up the feeling of a weight on your chest settles in and you know today is going to be rough. You rolled out of bed and started getting ready for work, hoping the heaviness would wash away. You grabbed your phone from the charger as you headed out the door and debating sending a quick text to Joong and Woo, cancelling tonight’s dinner plans; ultimately deciding against it. You didn’t want to alarm them if it wasn’t needed, knowing in the past how they’d drop whatever and come to you.

You looked down the time cursing yourself, sprinting down the steps, you didn’t feel your coffee spill; too focused on not missing your bus. As you burst out of the side door of the apartment complex you see your bus pull away from the stop and the lump in your throat forms. You pull yourself together and start walking and looking for taxis to get you to work on time. Determined to turn your day around. As you walked towards your office you looked down and noticed the coffee stain on your pants and shirt. You were already late and don’t have time to turn around and go change. You pulled your jacket out of your bag and used it to cover the wet stains in the front. Hoping your pants dried on the walk to the office.

Working as a marketer for skincare and beauty you would think the office would be a calm and relaxing place. Well not today. The shipment of samples was labeled wrong and had to go back to the warehouse. Which meant you had nothing to give out at the launch party this weekend. All of your coworkers made comments about your pants and you were pulled into your bosses office and yelled at for the sample malfunction and being late. You were holding together by a strand and could not wait until 5 to go home.

The universe wasn’t entirely cruel as Joong had to cancel dinner plans tonight to help Eden and Maddox with something. You were glad you didn’t have to bail, knowing how stressed they already were. They started the comeback next week and you probably wouldn’t see the guys for the next two months. The first few tours and comebacks without them being home was hard but the more you got used to the idol life and schedule the more you came to enjoy your time alone and found peace in it. You were living your life and they were living their dreams.

You felt your phone vibrate and looked down to a text from Chan, a smile creeped onto your face. One of the only things that had eased some of the heaviness today. “I know you said you weren’t feeling well today. So just know you’re doing a great job and I’m proud of you for going to work!” You felt the tears well up in your eyes, looking up you blocked them away, sending back a thank you text to Chan. You cleaned up your desk and gathered your things. You were almost to the elevator when your boss walked out of his office. “Miss Y/Ln, I need to see you.” You cooled your features and turned towards him, “of course sir.” You set your bag down and followed him to the meeting room. “The samples came back but all the labels need to be put on them. Since you were the one to mess up. You get to do them.” You looked at the piles of samples in front of you, there had to be hundreds of them. “Sir this will take hours.” He check his watch and walked to the door, “then I suggest you get started.” You pulled out the chair and took a deep breath, your hands shaking and eyes watering you grabbed the first sample and began.

Half past 11 you threw your bag in the floor and keys in the bowl as soon as you stepped into your apartment. You had held yourself together all day but the second you crossed into your home the damn broke and everything you had been feeling today came up. Crouched down, holding on to the counters your body shook as you sobbed. You reached for your phone, knowing he’d still be awake at this hour. As you scrolled for his contact, vision blurred by the tears you sank back into the floor. The phone rang and you tried to calm your breathing when he answered, y/n doll, I’m busy.” he started, you let out a muffed sob, “Joongie please.” He was quiet for a second, “are you hurt?” He asked, voice dry. “N-no I just…” Hongjoong cut you off, “y/n I’m sorry I just really don’t have time for this. Figure it out alright.” He said quickly then ended the call.

You pulled the phone away from your ear, hands shaking so hard it fell to the ground. You could hear the ringing in your ears. Everything in your apartment seems to shrink, feeling suffocated you half crawled into the open floor of your living room. Your phone started ringing and the sound blasting through your apartment making you jump. You swiped answering the call, a sob coming out before any words. “I’m on my way cupcake.” Mingi said before you could even explain. “Is the door unlocked love?” He asked, you heard a door close and the street life in the background. “I-I think so.” You whispered, voice hoarse from crying. You could hear Mingi running through the streets, your apartment only a block or two from their dorms. “I’m coming up cupcake.” Mingi said slightly out of breath. You mumbled something and ended the call. You curled back up in a ball, sobbing as you replayed the conversation with Hongjoong in your head.

You barely heard the front door open, jumping slightly when Mingi’s face appeared before you. Eyes laced with worry, you looked up at him and started sobbing harder. Mingi pulled you into him, running a soothing hand through your hair, letting you get all of it out. He reached behind himself to grab a blanket off the couch when you started shaking. “Y/N?” He asked quietly when your sobs have softened. You looked up at him with red eyes, puffy from all the tears. “I called Joong and- and he told me figure it out. Th-that he didn’t have time for this tonight.” You said hiccuping, more tears spilling down your cheeks. Mingi wiped your tears, “I’m so sorry cupcake.” You hugged the man tighter to you, “thank you for coming Mingi.” Mingi kissed the top of your head, “of course. Anything for our girl.” He pulled out his phone, sending a text to Wooyoung, updating him on the situation.

*At the dorms*

Wooyoung read Mingi’s text three times before he processed everything. Hands clenching an unclenching as he got off his bed and walked towards Hongjoong’s room. He saw the glow of light from under the door. He swung the the door open letting it slam against the wall. The captain with his head phones on didn’t even hear the commotion. Jongho on the other hand did and walked out of his room to investigate. Wooyoung slammed his hand on the desk, Joong looked up at him, “is it saved?” Woo asked through clenched teeth, motioning towards the laptop. Hongjoong clicked a few buttons,”yeah…” Wooyoung slammed the laptop shut. “What are you doing?” Hongjoong yelled, “WHAT AM I DOING? WHAT ABOUT YOU??” Wooyoung yelled, “what are you talking about about?” Hongjoong asked. “You are a horrible friend.” Wooyoung said, Hongjoong looked like his brother had slapped him.

Wooyoung was seething, everything from Mingis text on the forefront of this mind. Their girl, who they were supposed to protect, sobbing because of this man in front of him. “Hyung calm down.” Jongho started, “Stay out of this Jongho.” Wooyoung spat at the younger man. “Wooyoung.” Hongjoong started but Woo cut him off, “No, you left Y/N all alone when she needed you.” Hongjoong’s eyes widened, he had completely forgotten about the conversation with you earlier. “Y/n calls you sobbing and you told her to figure it out?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME JOONG!” Wooyoung tried to control his breathing but he could only picture you alone sobbing on floor. “You dare call yourself her best friend.” He spat. He turned around, mumbling a quick apology to their youngest member. Not hearing Hongjoong panicking under his breath, reaching for his phone to call you. “Fix this Hyung.” He heard Jongho say and he turned to follow Wooyoung out the door. The sound of the front door slamming in sync with the beep of you ignoring his call.

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[cakerybakery]

Adam felt a kick to his gut and woke up in pain. Groggy as shit he heard a whine and felt a sharp kick in his thigh this time. He reached under the blanket and yanked at the tiny appendage.

Holding her up by the furry leg, Adam wasn’t sure what he was looking at. He thought it was one of the boys but this kid was not one of his.

Maybe?

“Eve?” He didn’t take his eyes off the child who was starting to cry. “Oh shh shh shh.” He lowered her back down and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay, kid.”

From beside him Eve groaned, “Adam?” It was too early to be up for either of them. “Did one of the boys have a nightmare?”

“Not one of ours. Unless you have birth last night while I was asleep to a half goat toddler.”

“I don’t think I did.” She was still out of it and checked the blankets. “No? I don’t think so. I’d remember that, wouldn’t I?”

With a gasp, the kid clambered up Adam’s shoulder and down to land in Eve’s lap. “Hi!” She had stopped crying and was staring up at Eve with big eyes, “pretty!”

“Oh. That’s-“

“Mama pretty too!”

“Okay, well-“

She babbled but Adam couldn’t quite catch what she was saying, “They got lost!” She flung her hands in the air like she couldn’t believe she had to deal with all this.

Eve picked her up and interrupted before the girl could keep going, “who did? Your parents?”

She started to play with Eve’s hair and snuggled in. “Yes,” she said exasperated, like the answer was obvious. She pulled a blanket up and muttered that she was cold.

The kid looked so familiar to Adam. The kind of familiar that nettled your brain, making you want to sort it out to make it stop. She wasn’t human. He didn’t know anyone like this from heaven either. Something about her face was-

“CHARLOTTE!” A yelling came from outside. A man with a very familiar voice.

The name was called out again in quick succession by a woman.

The girl wiggled out of Eve’s arms and to the ground. Adam threw on a shirt to cover his bare chest to follow as the child made her way outside.

He paused in the door frame the darkness was normally enveloping on a moonless night like tonight, but the creature he saw held fire in his hands and atop his head. Adam stumbled back and nearly grabbed the child but she called out to him unafraid.

The demonic featured subsided and despite the changes Adam recognized him immediately. “Lucifer?”

The night was dark again as Lucifer’s flame extinguished. Adam could still hear Lilith, Lucifer, and Charlotte, their joy at being reunited.

Eve was by his side, dressed now. She took the first steps outside.

She called out to them and invited them inside. Adam could only stand aside and take a seat across the people he never thought he’s see again.

Eve built up the fire in the hearth and started a pot of water for some tea. She would steep peppermint leaves in hot water and named it tea. Adam wasn’t a fan but she and the boys liked it.

Lucifer and Lilith fussed over the girl asking if she was alright. Charlotte confirmed and told them about running away from the scary creatures.

It was only when Lilith got Charlotte to sleep in her lap by the hearth that the conversations turned. Lilith started to break down and Eve comforted her.

Adam kept Lucifer from going to her. “Leave it to Eve.”

“What happened? When did you two get a kid? How did you lose her?”

Lucifer never drank his tea, it had long since grown cold. “Lilith was pregnant when we fell.”

Adam had trouble wrapping his mind around that. He had not realized that they had been intimate in the garden. But that had been nearly thirteen years ago. Charlotte should be older than his boys.

“Neither of them survived the fall.”

He could see them. Touch them. How could what Lucifer said be true?

“They- Lilith revived as a sinner but Charlotte was just a spark. Lilith was cursed to never be able to have children but no one knew yet about her. I was able to grab her spark before she was lost to the ether of the universe.”

“That’s good. But how did-“

Lucifer’s tone hushed more he gripped his mug harder, never raising his head. “I carried her within my soul until she was ready and she was born. She’s about ten now.”

Ten? Adam couldn’t believe it. Lucifer had been pregnant with her for what two years nearly three maybe? But there was no way the girl curled up in her mother’s lap was ten. That was Cain’s age.

In a year or two the boy would be taller than Lucifer was now.

“How? She’s…”

“She’s half angel.” Lucifer didn’t seem to feel the need to explain further.

Adam wanted to correct Lucifer and say fallen angel, but did it matter?

“How did she end up here?”

Lucifer’s eyes turned red, the mug cracked a little as the tea began to boil. “There’s a new sin. Wrath, Satan. He wished to fight me for my place as king of hell. To help incur my wrath, so I would fight him, he sent his creations. Imps.” He nearly spat the word. “To steal her. They brought her to the surface. They scared her.”

“They didn’t stand a chance.” Lucifer grinned smugly, raising his head and puffing out his chest. “She raised hell. Lilith and I followed the sounds of their screams but she was already through a portal to Earth. Luckily it was close to your farm. Thank you. For finding her.”

Adam shook his head, “she found us. She crawled into our bed and woke us up.”

Placing a hand on his, Lucifer’s disagreed. “You saw a weird kid and didn’t try to murder her. I know she takes after me, I know she doesn’t look, normal. But you didn’t see a demon or a monster like so many in heaven have called her. You saw a kid. So thank you for that.”

“She’s just a kid. Why would-“

“Heaven can be crueller than you think.” Lucifer stood, “we should go. Thank you for your hospitality. Hopefully, we’ll never have to return the favour but if you need it. Find us.”

He gathered up his daughter and wife, hesitating at the door. “There are two of us now. Beware your pride, beware your wrath. Warm your children of the same.”

“How did you know-?”

“Two people don’t need four chairs. You and Eve have no use for the toys I saw either.”

Lucifer opened a portal and Adam stared over his shoulder into the red nightmare scape of hell. Demonic creatures stared back.

Lucifer roared, breathing fire at the one that stepped closer to the portal. The hell borns scattered, making way for their king.

Over Lilith’s shoulder a sleepy eye peeked open and Charlotte’s little hand waved before she settled back into sleep and the portal closed.

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl - 11

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Summary:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. But his life turned upside down when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

My Problematic Girl - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

The following day, Steve woke up early, as usual. After getting ready, he went to prepare the medicine for his mother.

Once everything was set, he headed to his benefactor’s apartment, a woman he admired and resented. Seeing her struggle with nightmares recently had stirred a sense of pity in him.

He knocked on her apartment door. "Knock, knock!"

“Come in,” her voice called from inside.

He entered and saw her being attended to by a makeup artist and hairstylist.

“Great, you’re here,” she said, glancing at him through the mirror.

“Do you have an event to attend?” Steve asked, noticing the formal preparations. He knew she liked parties, but this seemed different.

“We’re going to the Solomon banquet,” she informed him, her eyes returning to her reflection.

“We?” Steve repeated, a hint of surprise in his voice.

She pointed towards the couch where a suit was hanging. “That’s your outfit.”

Steve sighed. “Why are you including me in this?”

“They want to meet the artist who received half a million dollars in less than a month. I’m sure you’ll find potential buyers at this event,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

With another sigh, Steve unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a designer suit and bowtie. He changed into it, feeling the quality of the fabric as it fit him perfectly.

“Does it fit you? If not, I’ll order another suit,” she said from across the room, glancing over her shoulder.

“It fits,” Steve replied, not wanting to burden her with unnecessary expenses, knowing how expensive the suit already was.

“Good. Next, I want you to remember some important names,” she said, turning back to the mirror as the makeup artist continued their work.

“Huh?” Steve didn't understand what she meant until he saw the binder handed to him by her stylist. Opening it, he saw photos with names and job positions. His eyes widened—these were all the guests attending the Solomon banquet.

Flipping through the pages, he exclaimed, “Are you insane? This is a lot! And you’re just giving it to me now?”

“It’s not difficult,” she replied nonchalantly.

Steve rolled his eyes, knowing it was futile to argue with her.

“You can’t be clueless about the people you’ll meet there. None of them will be wearing ID badges,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, trying to memorize the guest information.

“You have two hours,” she added.

“Fuck you,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” she said, her tone amused.

Steve approached her and saw her wearing a black dress with long sleeves, which he knew was to cover the scars and tattoos on her arms. The simplicity of the dress was contrasted by the elegant diamond necklace shaped like a snake.

“By the way, you’re not afraid of heights, are you?” she asked.

“No,” Steve replied. “Why do you ask?”

He should have known better. Soon, he felt a cold sweat forming and his fists clenching as he realized what was happening. He closed his eyes tightly.

“You said you weren’t scared of heights,” her voice came through the headphones.

“I did. This is my first time flying in a helicopter,” Steve admitted, still keeping his eyes shut. She hadn't mentioned they would be traveling by helicopter.

He heard her laughing while he desperately hoped the helicopter would land soon.

🚁🚁🚁🚁

Steve's heart finally started beating normally again after the helicopter landed at the Solomon residence. The mansion was the largest he had ever seen, an architectural marvel that spoke of old money and long-standing power. The pristine gardens, the sprawling estate, and the impressive line of luxury vehicles and helicopters signaled the status of its guests.

This was the first elite party he had ever attended, and the grandeur of it all left him momentarily speechless.

“Close your mouth, Steve,” Y/N said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Steve did as instructed, feeling like a child amazed by Christmas lights. The interior of the mansion was even more opulent, with chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, priceless art adorning the walls, and finely dressed attendees mingling with an air of practiced elegance. He couldn’t help but notice the curious and scrutinizing gazes of many guests directed at Y/N and himself.

“They’re looking at you,” Steve whispered, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“The stray daughter comes home,” she replied, her tone laced with sarcasm.

They continued walking until they saw Maximus Solomon, the family patriarch, seated in his wheelchair. Though physically frail, his eyes were sharp and commanding. Beside him stood his daughter, Sophia, a middle-aged woman with an air of affluence and authority, and her daughter, Sarah.

Sophia, dressed in an elegant evening gown adorned with sparkling jewelry, greeted guests with a practiced smile. When she spotted Y/N, she whispered something to her daughter before excusing herself and walking toward them.

Sophia opened her arms in a welcoming gesture. “Y/N, I’m so glad you could be here.”

Y/N put on a fake smile. “Me too. I want to slit your throat.”

“Ohohoho, funny as always,” Sophia responded with a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Your grandpa is waiting for you. You should go see him. I’ll accompany your friend.”

Steve felt a bit abandoned as Y/N walked away, but he squared his shoulders and tried to maintain his composure.

Sophia turned to him with a polite smile, breaking the ice. “I finally get to meet the artist who has been the hottest topic.”

“Thank you. It’s an honor to have someone like you know me,” Steve replied, trying to keep his nerves in check.

Sophia chuckled, her gaze appraising. “Polite young man. As you know, I have a gallery too. I could give you an offer that’s better than Y/N’s.”

Steve felt a mix of surprise and unease. He wasn’t used to such direct propositions, especially from someone as influential as Sophia. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Solomon. Y/N has been very supportive of my work.”

“Of course,” Sophia said smoothly, her eyes never leaving his. “But opportunities like this don’t come around often. Think about it, Steve. You have potential, and I can help you reach heights you’ve never imagined.”

Steve nodded, trying to mask his discomfort with a polite smile. “I’ll definitely consider it.”

Sophia’s smile widened, satisfied with his response. “Good. Now, let’s enjoy the evening, shall we? There are many people here who would love to meet you.”

As they moved through the grand halls, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling of being a small fish in a large, wealthy pond.

@cherrybubblebullet

Author Note: I know this chapter feels like a filler, but I feel like I need to keep writing to regain my inspiration. 😔

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soulmate, soulmate where are you? 2

1.3k words of absolute crushing angst, it's 7am and i woke up to write. shall i be evil and let this be the final part? mayhaps.

warnings: s/h and making jungkook sad (:W)

fuck fuck fuck.

skimming every question and typing out my answer feels a lot like betrayal. name, age, country of residence, when my soulmate mark appeared, contact details, translator needed, agreeing to a declaration that if my soulmate mark was found to be fraudulent i could face a fine or jail time. i tick the box by his name, attach a photo of my mark and send the form off. the confirmation email is too cheery it makes my jaw ache at how i grind my teeth.

i don't want to talk about the circumstances that lead me to fill out that form, to apply for a loan that covers travel cost and a hotel for this. the woman who helped me fill out the form was again all too cheery, wishing me a good luck and all i could do was smile so fucking limply back at her while noticing lipstick smudged against her teeth.

a month passes and i'm gleeful, maybe it's a network error and my form never submitted. i'm free and can tell the loan company to cancel my plan, i don't go on social media to see what jungkook is up to and in those weeks the nightmare is over and i embrace my loneliness.

the email arrives at 16:21. heathrow to seoul, a contact at hybe will meet me at the airport. id needed. date of when i'm expected to actually meet jungkook, with a disclaimer that it may change due to fluctuating schedule. the tiger lily tingles, and i almost see the petals opening ready to accept him.

"don't get your hopes up, i can always email them back to get out of this."

i don't. of course i don't because i'm standing in a Costa in London Fucking Heathrow next to the hybe contact who is analysing their croissants like it's the key to end all misery. i wished i could look at croissants with that much intensity.

she asked once to see my soulmate mark, gave it a one second glance over and then typed something down in her phone, i wondered how many people she's flown with to Korea. more than ten i would bet. i don't ask, i'm not conversational but when we're waiting in the queue holding out boarding passes i blurt to her.

"i haven't flown before. i've got a fear of it i think."

she passes me a sleeping tablet and i bump her number from ten to a solid fifteen.

korea is pretty, face practically smushed against the taxi window i take in every single detail i can. there's an over-abundance of signs, low hanging wires and roads so tiny it's a miracle a car can pass through them. i don't take photos, i rely on my brain to remember and then forget.

hybe is anything but pretty, more like a grey lump of concrete and glass. i sign two more documents and the translator informs me that in two days time i will be meeting jungkook, but not officially meeting. more like my arm will be stuck through a gap and our soulmate marks will touch, i will have to wear a mitt because some people had become a little too excited and scratchy. my mark is thoroughly inspected this time, deemed official and not a tattoo i'm driven over to my hotel.

i don't unpack, staring at the forms in my hand which are a mix of korean and english i almost laugh. traitor. stupid traitor.

over the next two days i come to two big conclusions, one kimchi is too sour but the rice cakes should be considered a universal delicacy and two, is it too late to back out?

is it too late to back out? i'm in the taxi, i consider clawing the windows for escape but i decide that digging my fingers into my belly helps ease my nerves. can i back out? hybe is cold, the ac is too strong and there's other girls in the room i'm lead into. shy smiles as i plop myself in the back. we are called alphabetically. is it possible to back out? there's four of us left now, i didn't bother counting us as a whole. i can't stop digging my nails into my stomach.

i can't back out. my name is called and somehow my body removes the hand from my belly and i walk myself over to the room. there's a row of grey screen partitions that divide the room, a small slither in the middle presumably where my arm will go. it hits me jungkook is on the other side and i bite my bottom lip hard to avoid laughing. tugging my sleeve up a staff member puts the mitt on securely, another verbal warning to not do anything harmful to the artist.

artist and not his name.

i sit down on the chair, staring into that small space to catch a sight of him but there's nothing. i don't mind a fine, or jail time. i hope it's not real. deliberately slowly i raise my arm, putting it through the gap with my tiger lily facing upwards. the air shifts around my arm and i feel him. warm as his tiger lily presses against mine.

at first nothing, and i almost let out the loudest sigh of relief and then it is everything. in the mitt my fingers jerk, i pull away like i've been electrocuted clutching my arm but it's energy, pure energy. thrum. drum. drum.

he's tearing the partitions apart and i stagger back, nearly falling over the chair to get away from him. frantic korean, something more reassuring from a staff member and then he pokes his head through. beaming smile, he's so happy to see me and i guess i'm somewhere between absolutely mortified and in complete shock. his sleeve is rolled up and i notice his tiger lily has fully blossomed, a quick glance down at mine and i realise mine is the same.

he speaks again, approaching me like he wants to hug me but seeing that i'm backing away like a rabid animal he slows, contains himself and glances at the translator and back at me.

"hello. i'm jungkook. it's nice to meet you finally." oh god. too much. he's too kind and his cologne has infiltrated my nostrils and i'm so glad the mitt is still on because i'd be clawing at my nose to stop smelling it.

"s-sorry.. can't." i give the staff member who brought me in here the universal look of, 'get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here-now.' i am ignored.

"sorry?" he tilts his head in pure confusion, he looks worried. i hate him for it. "don't be sorry. it's okay. i'm happy."

i glance around the room and notice i'm being recorded, i don't know what sets me off more. he's too close, the camera, him, why is he so close? he touches my shoulder to comfort me and i jerk away, i can't stop looking at the camera and the other staff members who are beaming at us.

"i'm sorry," my eyes lock with his, "i don't want you." he doesn't understand and i glance at the translator.

she looks sad and very softly tells him what i've said, he doesn't seem to believe her because he presses his fingers against the tiger lily and shakes his head.

"us. this is us." he's struggling to speak himself and i can see him remembering. he's really looking at my arm now, clearer. the burns, the cuts. all the times i've tried to prune that cancerous flower from my arm. almost physically wounded he takes a step back.

"i'm sorry, i don't want this." the translator repeats my words and all he does is nod.

he nods and i leave.

[justpostsyeet]

Mîr Vin Universe Origin Ch 3

A/n - Sorry for the delay. I just delved to deep into what will Elves think of the technology and items unfamiliar to them. I made way to much dialogues for it and the chapter became too long. So, I removed it all together. If you want to read it I'll but it in a bonus chapter.

Any back to the story

As the elves delved into the mysterious woman’s belongings, their initial intent to find potential harm transformed into an intriguing exploration of unfamiliar artifacts. Among the items, they discovered clothing of a similar fashion to what she wore, confirming the uniqueness of her attire. Strips of expensive fabric hinted at a meticulous attention to detail in her possessions. The food items, unlike anything seen in Elven or Middle-earth cultures, sparked curiosity. Exotic aromas wafted from packages that bore no resemblance to the lembas or other fare known to the elves. Moreover, the elves encountered objects previously unseen in Middle-earth. Mysterious in both form and material, these items were beyond their realm of knowledge. They exchanged glances, realizing that the answers to the woman’s origins might be hidden within these enigmatic possessions.

 The mystery deepened, drawing them further into the enigma that had unexpectedly arrived at their haven but their curiosity was put in hold because of the maid servant announced that the creature woke up, behaved Frantically and fell into fitifull sleep again. They all exited to see the creature

As the woman stirred, her eyes gradually opening to the unfamiliar surroundings, the elves observed her with a sense of reverence. The air was charged with anticipation, for in her waking moments lay the promise of unlocking the enigma that had woven itself into the fabric of their haven.

Glorfindel looked at the creature, she looked restless right now. Her pretty features were marked with distress. The woman began to stir again. Glorfindel could feel Gildor’s posture suddenly going rigid. The woman woke up again, looked at them with a bewildered face and blurted out something in foreign tongue which Glorfindel could only make out as

“What the Fuck”

 

 In the hazy moments between sleep and wakefulness, she felt the disorienting shift from the rhythmic motion of the train to an unfamiliar stillness. Her eyes fluttered open, searching for the familiar contours of her train compartment, but instead, she found herself in a spacious room filled with vibrant colors. A jolt of panic surged through her as she realized she wasn’t alone. The bed beneath her was soft, unlike the cold, impersonal surfaces she associated with kidnapper scenarios in movies. The room exuded warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of fear that gripped her. With trembling hands, she reached for the glasses she habitually kept within arm’s reach. The world around her remained a blur, causing her heart to pound against her chest. The absence of visual clarity heightened her sense of vulnerability. Where was she? How did she end up in this unfamiliar place?

As she fumbled for her glasses, her fingertips grazed a loose tunic of soft cotton that draped over her. It wasn’t the attire she remembered wearing when she fell asleep on the train. Her hair, usually secured in a bun, cascaded freely down her shoulders. She could make out were she was but everything felt like blurry shaking mess. The spaciousness of the room and the absence of ominous shadows began to alleviate the intensity of her disorientation. She fell down on the bed again.

The next time, she was awake of her surrounding. She dared not open her eyes fearing that realistic nightmare was a reality. She started to feel her surroundings, the warm blanket embracing her form, the gentle lighting that bathed the room, and the absence of any immediate threat. So, she was still here. It was not a dream. Her heart pounded in her chest. Everything felt too much. She couldfeel her body trembling. The question lingered—how had she transitioned from a moving train to this mysterious haven?

She refused to open her eyes till her heartbeat began to slow down. As her racing heart began to steady, she pondered the possibilities. Was it a dream? A delusion? Or had she truly been transported to a place beyond her understanding? The answers lay shrouded in the enigma of the unfamiliar room, waiting to be unveiled as she navigated this unexpected journey. She finally found courage to open her eyes. In the disorienting blur without her glasses, she found herself surrounded by figures draped in unfamiliar attire. Their voices melded into a symphony of incomprehensible sounds, leaving her bewildered and struggling to make sense of the situation. She saw tall figures standing near her bed. She screamed "What the fuck!".

She looked frantically to see clearing, her hands flying around her to find her glasses but everything seemed different. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes again. No, this is not real, she thought to herself, just take a deep breath, even if its real, its better to face reality with less adrenaline rush. She heard an unknown voice speaking in an unfamiliar language.

"Please let me focus", She muttered but incomprehensible chatter continued. The voices seemed to get closer to her. She decided to face them. She opened her eyes again. The figures were closer. The were....men dressed in.....robes?They were speaking something but she couldn't understand a word. She attempted to respond, her words stumbling in an attempt to bridge the linguistic gap.

Wait, where am I? Can anyone understand me?”

 The room echoed with a language she couldn’t grasp, and the figures, seeming more like shadows in her blurred vision, continued their conversation in more unintelligible speech. As the frustration of being unable to communicate mounted, her panic intensified. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision even further. The alien surroundings, the strange language, and the inability to make herself understood became overwhelming.

“Please, someone, help me understand. Where am I?

The figures exchanged glances, their expressions indecipherable. One of them, seemingly perceiving her distress, gestured for her to follow. With a mixture of fear and desperation, she stumbled after the shadowy figure, her cries echoing in the unfamiliar room.

 “Why can’t you understand me? Where am I going?”, she muttered to herself while walking.

The figures continued conversing amongst themselves, the strange language closing a linguistic barrier that seemed insurmountable. The room’s colors blurred into a mosaic of confusion as she clung to the hope of finding answers. As they led her through the mysterious realm, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being a lost wanderer in a place that defied explanation yet seemed to her very familiar, her cries of confusion echoing through the walls of palace.

 Lord Círdan, Glorfindel, Gildor, Lumion, and Fearon came in the room where their mysterious guest was staying. When they saw her walking up and saying something in a melodious voice. They began to talk. Lord Círdan was first to speak, “Greetings, traveler from beyond. Can you understand our words?”

The creature responded with a stream of sounds that were foreign to the elven ears, leaving the wise beings perplexed. Glorfindel ears perked up, he said to Lord Círdan, “Her language eludes us. We must find a way to bridge this gap and understand her plight.”

Lumion, quiped in, “I’ve never encountered such linguistic diversity. Our words seem to dance away from her understanding.”

 As the creature grew more distressed, her attempts at communication turned into heart-wrenching cries. The elves, moved by compassion, sought a way to ease her turmoil.

Fearon, seeing her pretty face distressed was unable to contain her worry. She sople softly, “We cannot let her suffer in confusion. There must be a way to connect with her. If we cant understand her, we can at least soothe her. There's nothing more soothing that nature. Lets take her to the gardens.”Gildor mused, “Look at the patterns on her belongings. They speak of gardens and life. Indeed, let us bring her to the haven’s garden.”

Lord Círdan looked at her shaking form and sighed. He did not expected such fearful reaction from this little creature. He gently guided her to the garden. She followed him,her eyes downcast and form shivering. He wanted to hold her and tell her she was safe but he was fearing that might trigger intense reaction in her. Guiding the creature gently, he led her to the serene sanctuary of the garden, where a tapestry of flowers and foliage unfolded. He saw her looking at the flowers. He gentky smiled, “In the language of leaves and blossoms, find comfort. Let the garden’s beauty speak when words fail.”

As they walked amidst the vibrant flora, the creature’s tears began to subside. The intricate patterns on her belongings seemed to resonate with the natural tapestry surrounding them. The creature, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the fragrance of blossoms, started to calm. The elves, though unable to decipher her words, shared a moment of understanding through the silent language of the garden—a universal solace that transcended the boundaries of spoken communication.

 Her mind began to clear from the fog of confusion. Determined to understand her predicament, she made a gesture, a silent plea, for her glasses. She looked at the creatures that surrounded her. She looked at the bearded old man. As they had eye contact, the man seemed to freeze. It seemed like her was lost. What happened to them? she thought to herself, What the fuck is going on here!?

~○~○~○~○~○~○

Taglist @elvyshiarieko , @asianbutnotjapanese @bobitoo08

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[dangerpronebuddie]

Hiii Maggie 💕💕💕

Buddie + falling asleep on the others shoulder

-❤️🪐

Hiii Saturn 💕💕💕 Hope you like it!

Eddie jolts awake for the third time, startling Buck from his doze, and slumps back against the cot. "You okay?" Buck whispers, hoping desperately he doesn't wake Chris or Abuela, who are both asleep on the cushioned bench the hospital staff managed to bring. Eddie sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. "No." The first time he'd woken up, he claimed he was just uncomfortable. The second, he wouldn't talk about it. "Nightmare?" Buck guesses. They're both well acquainted with the ghosts that haunt each other's dreams. Only, after tonight, Buck is certain some new demons have entered the rotation. Eddie nods. "Scoot over," Buck whispers as he stands from the folding chair he'd been sitting in all night. Eddie frowns in confusion, but does as he's told. Buck climbs onto the cot with him, draping the blanket the nurse had given him over their legs. This is only the third time they've shared a bed. The first time, Buck and Chris were too shaken to stand being separated, and Eddie didn't want "his boys" to be far from him either. (That still rings in Buck's ears. It's how he's referred to Eddie and Chris since the earthquake. His boys). So, rather than let Buck sleep on the couch, the three of them huddled together in Eddie's bed, thankful the universe and a tidal wave didn't rip them away from each other permanently. The second time, Eddie and Chris were staying over at the loft for the first time. Christopher took the pullout bed, and Eddie slept in Buck's. They both ignored the fact they woke up tangled together under the covers. They'd just spent weeks apart over an idiotic lawsuit. Who could blame them for being a little clingy? But this time feels... different. For a terrifying few hours, Buck thought he'd lost Eddie for good. After he just got him back. His throat is still sore from screaming his name. His fingertips are still cold as ice from clawing at the mud uselessly. But he'd do it again. He'd have done anything to get to Eddie. It should terrify him. The lengths he'd go to for Eddie. For his boys. "You don't have to," Eddie whispers even as his head falls to Buck's shoulder. "I know," Buck whispers back. He wraps an arm around Eddie's shoulders, his free hand taking Eddie's and lacing their frozen fingers together. Eddie turns his head, his cold nose brushing Buck's throat. Buck hisses at the contact and Eddie chuckles, a sound Buck feels more than hears. "Thank you," Eddie says after a while. "For what?" Buck asks. He didn't really do anything. Eddie saved himself. "For not giving up," Eddie whispers, slurring a little as his eyelids close. "On either of us." Buck presses a soft kiss to Eddie's hair. "Try and get some sleep, yeah?" Eddie hums and wriggles closer. It doesn't take two minutes before his breaths even out, warm puffs of air ghosting Buck's neck. He rests his head atop Eddie's, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of the heart monitor, his own beating in time as he takes one more look at his boys.

Send me a soft prompt!

[lunatic-pudge]

Hello!! I'm new~ I can order 2d headcanons and noddles (noddles kid, but she sees o/s as her older sister) with her o/s comforting them by making them lay their head on her lap while o/s hugs, caresses, kisses and tells them everything will be okay

Here you go! I kinda died, but I'm back and ready to cause chaos! :D

Comforting Noodle

• It started off as a nightmare

• A weird blur of fuzzy memories that Noodle couldn't quite describe

• Scientist, weapons, other children, and the screams

• Oh how the screams echoed deep within her

• It was so hard to make out the full details of everything

• It was going by so quick

• But it also felt like it was going by so agonizingly slow

• It all just seemed so overwhelming

• But then something started changing

• A comforting shake, a gentle warmth was near

• Noodle woke in a cold sweat, tears welling in her eyes

• Looking up she saw them, eyes filled with concern and a frown adorning their face

• "Are you okay, Noodle?"

• Those words brought Noodle to tears, sobbing gentle as they pull her into a hug

• One hand on the back of her head and the other rubbed up and down on her back, they let Noodle get everything out

• Incoherent words that were interrupted by her sobs

• Noodle felt safe in their arms

• She always did when they held her

• Noodle had always looked up to them as an older sister

• They were the one who went above and beyond to understand and help Noodle when she came to Kong Studios

• They were the one who would protect Noodle from dealing with Murdoc's druken rage

• Or seeing the constant drug and alcohol abuse that was rampant between Murdoc and 2D

• They were the one who always made sure Noodle had clean clothes to wear, fresh food to eat, a room to feel safe in, and someone there to comfort her when things weren't great

• With a gentle kiss to the top of her head, Noodle looked up at them

• Tears now finished flowing

• "Thank you (y/n). I just don't understand why I keep having these nightmares. They won't go away"

• "Oh, Noodle, it's going to be okay. We'll work through this together."

• They hugged Noodle a little tighter, making sure she was okay

• Noodle smiled, no matter how bad the nightmares got, she knew they were there to keep her safe

• Her dear older sister

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(More) 2D Headcanons

• Man has the COOLEST horror movie-esque collection EVER

• We're talking about rare copies of movies, signatures, actual horror movie props, ect.

• He's always going to horror cons to meet his favorite actors

• Is always looking for horror recommendations

• I can also seeing him being an urbex (urban exploration) type of person

• He has albums from his explorations

• It probably gives him horror movie vibes

• If he has an S/O, he'd want them to go with him

• If they say no, he'd be sad but very accepting of their decisions

• I know that all virtual singers live in the same universe but HYPOTHETICALLY (plz hear me out) let's say that Vocaloid was also same for them as it is for us (the cds with the voicebanks instead of them being actual idols/people). I can see 2D having a copy of Vocaloid and Miku's voicebank. He wouldn't publish any songs with her but he def has fun using her to sing his favorite songs and Gorillaz songs

• BUT NOW IF WE MAKE THE VOCALOIDS ACTUAL PEOPLE, he's gone to a bunch of concerts, has met the Legend herself, got her autograph on his forehead, and def kept in contact with her. Murdoc aggressivley refuses to let Miku collab with them (he just doesn't wanna admit that he's a Miku fan)

• Don't know if I said it before, but he has def tried to play all sorts of instruments. Let's just say he's forbidden to be even in the same room with a violin

[kills-you-cutely]

to hold your hand when you cry.

tw: smoking, self-deprecating thoughts, some kind of alternative universe, komahina <3.

Nagito took a deep breath. In, and out. The words scrambled in his brain into other things, things he didn’t want to think about, so he just tried breathing again. In, and out. It was getting harder to keep this up with every new thought adding into his brain, making him dizzy and nauseous, feeling like everything’s going to collapse on him in any moment. He was sitting on his bed, in his room and the ticking of the clock showed it was a few hours before sunrise. His eyes felt tired from the force to keep them open, not tolerating another nightmare, and his body screaming that it needed sleep, that it was the third time this week it had been happening. Nagito chose to ignore all of it and continued to stare at the wall near him, feeling it getting closer, and closer, and until there was no space, telling him that he wasn’t needed, and he was useless, and he was just nothing to anyone ever to exist-

In, and out. His breathing hitched, his heartbeat getting faster as he tried to get rid of every thought making him feel agonizing, making him fall into despair even more…

Until he couldn’t. He looked at the time again. Just a few minutes had passed. Nothing ever changed. He spared a look next to the clock, where he saw few cigarettes, and thought nothing but how he could try anything to rid of this feeling. Nagito forced himself to reach one, and took the cigarette in his hand. There had to be a lighter somewhere, right? He stood up, and after a few moments of searching, he found a working lighter, and as he got closer to the window, then lit the cigarette up and took a breath of it. He looked at the smoke quickly getting away in the star-lit sky, dissolving into air as he leaned to the window frame, looking at the bustling city below. Oh how nice it would be to be a part of such nice view. He took another breath from the cigarette, letting it out again, cold hitting his face and hands, making him feel colder than he already was. He wanted to dissolve into the night like the smoke so badly-

knock knock.

Nagito quickly turned his back, looking at the door in confusion.

“Nagito, can i come in?” He felt something in his throat, a knot, as he threw the cigarette in the trash bin, he desperately tried to act normal despite everything that happened.

“Hajime? I’m afraid I just woke up, so i kindly decline, for i look like trash-“

“I know you’ve been awake. I saw the smoke.” Nagito stopped abruptly on his way to bed. Of course he saw, it’s my luck he lives just upstairs and happened to be awake.

“I’m fine,” Nagito whispered, which he didn’t mean to but the knot on his throat made it harder to speak without crying. Then the door opened and he came face to face with a Hajime that had terrible bed hair, baggy eyes and striped pyjamas, looking at him in such neutral expression he couldn’t help but be a little angry.

“I just told you I’m-“ Hajime reached and held his hand.

Hajime held his hand.

Nagito couldn’t help as tears started to form and fall, looking bewildered, and just standing there, holding Hajime’s hand, he started to cry. He felt Hajime getting closer, and he felt him hugging him, holding him as he cried, his whole body shaking as he quietly sobbed.

@kelperings u told me to tag u ITS SHIT BUT HOPE U LIKE <33 its kind of a uni au?? where they live in dorms and they just. happened to live like that. im gonna work with this idea and write about them more (the idea had me as its hostage help) .

[shatterinseconds]

future

Julance ‘23 week 2

“This is usually my brooding spot,” Keith says as he steps through the doorway to the observation deck and the doors slide shut behind him.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Lance huffs a little. “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

Keith clearly just woke up, hair rumpled and sweatpants hanging low on his waist. He didn’t even bother to put on a shirt though he keeps his arms crossed like he’s cold. Lance wants to call him out for his ridiculousness but finds he doesn’t have the energy to keep up much of their usual banter. 

Sensing the mood, Keith’s expression softens, and his feet quickly pad across the floor to reach Lance in record time. He sits down right next to him on the small step-down; their shoulders brush together. “You could’ve woken me if you had a nightmare.”

Lance shakes his head. “It wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Then what’s on your mind?”

They have an unobstructed view of the stars before them, no planets or asteroid belts, just a nebula in the distance made of stardust pinks. And Lance, staring at the universe that he has had to call home for far too long, takes a minute to answer. Keith doesn’t prod but he doesn’t look away from Lance either. Sighing, Lance shuts his eyes for a moment.

“Do you think we’ll have a future?” he asks at last. 

With each passing year still stuck in space, with the memories of home losing their focus, doubt constantly creeps into Lance’s mind. If they can win this war; if they’ll have to sacrifice something too great to do so. The battles have intensified and all of them come away with more scrapes and bruises than they used to. More time is spent in the healing pods. More time is spent watching the love of his life in that suspended animation, wondering if there’ll be a day when he never wakes up from that sleep.

But Lance isn’t any better at keeping himself safe so he’ll never blame Keith for his recklessness.

He senses Keith’s gaze pinned on him. It raises the hair on the back of his neck. He knows Keith studies him, those violet eyes flicking up and down his face looking for something. “In general or between us?”

“Both. In general.” Lance allows his head to fall into his hands and mumbles, “I don’t know.”

Keith leans back on his hands, staring at the stars before them. He looks so soft in the subtle glow of the late night hours. Blue from the crystal sconces highlights his profile. Everyone is asleep, even the mice; it is just the two of them wide awake. They have the entire castle to themselves. “I’d like to hope we’re both happy and healthy years from now, whether we’re together or not,” Keith says, confident in a way Lance finds he is shocked by. Then the corner of Keith’s mouth quirks when he turns his attention on Lance again, and Lance can’t stop staring at the movement. “But we haven’t encountered time travel yet so I can’t say for certain.”

Lance weakly laughs at that. He reaches out his hand to find Keith’s on the floor. Their fingers interlock. “I don’t want to think about a future where I let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

“That simple?”

Keith shrugs, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks. “For me it is.”

Even after a year of dating, it often surprises Lance how at ease Keith can make him feel. That, for someone who always seemed so emotionally constipated when they were younger, can calm his racing heart with blunt honesty.

Lance leans into Keith, cupping the side of his face, and kisses him. He smiles when he pulls back. It’s a silent ‘thank you’ and Keith easily understands.

They fall asleep curled together on the observation deck, and Lance dreams of hope.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, violence, attempted murder references, self-deprecation, implied references to gambling addiction, vaguely implied drug or alcohol abuse, implied past child abuse

AO3 link

Chapter 52 - Wylan

It was almost four bells half chime when Wylan woke, gasping for air, trying to cough non-existent water out of his lungs and grapple away from the shadow of hands that weren’t actually wrapped around his throat. He fumbled in the dark, almost falling off the little bed, and eventually found himself curled on the warped wooden boards with his head pressed against the mattress behind him and his knees drawn tight up to his chest. Breathe, Wylan. He was trying.

The nightmares were hardly new, but that didn’t make them any easier. He remained on the floor for some time, counting to five over and over again as he tapped his fingers against the floorboards. Thumb first, the others in quick succession, lift them again - palm still flat against the wood - then start over. One two three four five. One two three four five.

His other hand rose to his face, he wasn’t sure if he’d really meant for it to or not, and began to trace slowly over his scars. He could feel the press of the knife against his skin, the wet blood dripping down his face as it mingled and mixed with his tears. Breathe, Wylan. One two three four five.

Ghezen, he was pathetic. You’d think after spending most of his day crying on Nina’s settee that he’d gotten over himself by now, but apparently not. Wylan hated that he could not control this feeling, could not stop it, could not hold a pillow over its non-existent head until it stopped thrashing and then bury what remained of it somewhere deep and hidden in the woods.

It took several minutes, or maybe longer, he wasn’t sure, for Wylan to pull himself up off the floor and stand, shivering, in the centre of the room, uncertain of what to do next. He hadn’t wasted the precious little money he had on nightclothes so slept in a vest and undershorts, which were quickly proving useless against the cold of Ketterdam - especially after the storms that had ravaged Kerch these past few days and were expected to continue. It wasn’t raining now, or at least not heavily enough for him to hear it on the window sill behind his closed curtains, but the air was cold and damp from it all and Wylan’s room at the boarding house was nothing if not draughty. He didn’t own a watch or timepiece of any kind - why would he when he couldn’t look at it? - but peering round the edge of his curtain determined that dawn would arrive within an hour or so. Not fancying a return to sleep, and having been a naturally early riser anyway - though not usually quite this early - Wylan did not feel any allure back to his flat little pillow. Well, except perhaps for the warmth that even his thin duvet would provide better than just standing here. He lit a candle with shaking fingers, dressed in the half-darkness, wandered to the bathroom down the hall to wash his face. There was no running hot water, of course, but there was at least a slightly pathetic cold tap that he could make do with.

What to do, then, with these extra hours of his day? His first thought, painfully, was of his flute. At home he could have slipped quietly into the music room and stolen the time away for himself; lost himself in the flow and rhythm of the notes and let the world melt away around him.

“It is excellent that he can play, still,” he’d overheard his new nanny telling his music tutor, in and amongst the first few lessons after the accident, “He needs to feel that he has not lost who he was before,”

“It will limit him that he cannot see the sheet music though,” the tutor had replied, “He could have been a great musician, I think, but now? It will be much harder to develop his skill any further. Still, he is a child, and he needs a hobby,”

“You underestimate his memory,” the nanny said, “Play him the song first, name the notes out loud for him if necessary. Trust me, he’ll find the tune,”

The music tutor had not sounded convinced, but he put her theory to the test all the same. And she was right; Wylan, once he knew what the outcome was supposed to be, could feel the shape of the music and translate it into the movement of his fingers without ever being presented with a page of sheet music. It had opened a new avenue, a new release, a kind of safety in the music that Wylan didn’t have the right words to express the importance of, or how much he needed it.

But now his flute was ruined, full of water, warped out of shape and still sitting lonely at the bottom of his bag. Even though he’d emptied everything else out of it since Jesper returned his things to him, he could not bring himself to lay hands on the carcass of his beloved flute.

What else would he have done, on mornings like this at home? Sat at his bedroom window and watched the sunrise, not having to worry that anyone knew he was doing so, but judging by the grey sky it was going to be too cloudy to see much of that - and it wouldn’t start for some time yet anyway; worked on one of the sketches he kept hidden at the bottom of his wardrobe, beneath the floorboard he’d managed to prise up with a stolen - borrowed - hammer when there was work being done on the house, but he had no papers or drawing materials here because he hadn’t risked putting them into the luggage his father would surely search; crept downstairs and round to the back of the house to see Anya, before Anya was gone. The few friends he had here, if it was safe to think of them as such, would either still be sleeping or soon going to sleep though, wouldn’t they? The Barrel may have been an almost nocturnal place but this was the inbetween, the liminal part of the day’s cycle, where some were almost ready to wake and others almost ready to sleep.

It was that thought, of the Barrel and of the people that he was maybe allowed to call friends, that hit him with the memory, the acknowledgment, of what he had done last night. Or rather, what he had done two days ago, and what the Dregs had done last night thanks to his handiwork. He suddenly felt very cold again.

That had apparently settled it, though Wylan didn’t remember consciously making the decision, and he pulled on his scuffed shoes to walk straight to the Slat. He didn’t dare go anywhere near the bridge itself - there were sure to be stadwatch officers, crowds, angry citizens of the Zelvar District, maybe even Council Members all gathered around it. People who might recognise him. And anyway, Wylan wasn’t sure that he could look at it. The remains of it. What if someone had been crossing it, or even just nearby, when someone lit the fuse that Wylan had built? The canal water was pressing at his chest. He briefly thought he might throw up.

He wanted, he realised both unsurprisingly and yet somewhat unexpectedly as he made his way through the narrow streets along the journey that he had easily memorised, to talk to Jesper. He didn’t know if he wanted to tell him that the bridge was on his mind, that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, but he probably didn’t. He was embarrassed, he was ashamed to realise, that he felt remorse. This was the newest on a long list of places that he didn’t fit in, another world where he could never belong, and he didn’t want any of them to know that he didn’t know how to exist here, to be like them. But he did want to talk to Jesper. To listen to him talk. To be near him. Maybe he would describe the sunrise to him, the way he had the sunset on the steps of the University Library. Maybe Wylan needed a cold dose of reality.

But there was still the feeling of Jesper’s hand against his, his arm around Wylan’s shoulders, Wylan’s head against Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper’s fingers moving so lightly through Wylan’s hair.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t. It couldn’t. Because Wylan could never tell the Jesper the truth, and lying to him was slowly burning him from the inside out. Not even Wylan was stupid enough to push anything here; he knew it only ended with the flames engulfing them both.

If Jesper was at the Slat by now, he would surely be sleeping. Wylan knew that. He’d gone in search of him last night and only found Raske, who told him that Jesper was working all night and into the morning at the Crow Club. Jesper seemed to spend a lot of time at the Crow Club. Wylan had wandered back to his boarding house alone, not entirely sure why he’d gone seeking Jesper out in the first place.

As he approached the Slat now it wasn’t exactly louder than he’d expected, it seemed the house was loud at all hours, but definitely busier. Maybe these people just didn’t sleep at all, maybe their existence was maintained entirely by other forces. But if you studied them for long enough, Wylan thought, you could hear something cracked beneath their joyous voices, see a weight inside their eyes, something slick and black and heavy wrapped over them like a permanent funeral shroud to trap each of them in their own individual, endless night. These were only imitations, he realised, of the emotions that had first seemed to exude from every crack and corner of this place. These were people who had given in to the fear that Wylan felt tugging at him; the want to never sleep again, to fill his mind with something, anything else. They were half-burned phoenixes, yet to find their way out of the ashes.

Was it easier that way? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it just came with its own, fresh kind of pain.

“Hey! Hey, Hendriks!”

It took Wylan a moment to realise that these shouts were directed at him. He’d been weaving his way through the crowds slowly, cautiously, not really sure what he was doing, where he was going, if he even had an aim, but now he turned towards the source of the sound, pretty sure he recognised the voice before the shape of a boy came running into view. Roeder. The boy that Kaz had sent to follow him for Saints only knew how long.

He marvelled, privately, at the transformation that had taken place in Roeder between the boy he’d met and the boy standing in front of him now. The first had worn shadows like a cloak, wrestled thugs off Wylan’s throat like it was no sweat off his back, carried weapons that glittered in his hands like stolen jewels dipped in blood. This boy felt younger; his cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, his smile eager but maybe had the tiniest hint of nervousness. His voice crackled in the air like it had a physical presence. Wylan was pretty sure he’d been drinking.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked, like he was greeting an old friend. His words were ever so slightly breathy, as though he’d been exercising; Wylan had seen this boy fight, if briefly, he knew the run across the Slat shouldn’t have winded him like that, “Fahey’s not here,” he added, “if you were look for him,”

Wylan shook his head, not quite sure what to say, and Roeder’s smile might have widened ever so slightly, just faintly, like something was softly tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“You can join us if you want,” he pointed to a group Wylan mostly didn’t recognise, draped over a small sofa and set of spindly looking chairs across the room, then seemed to catch himself before saying: “We’re in the back corner, to the right. I can introduce you,”

“Oh, I, erm-” Wylan wasn’t really sure where that sentence was going.

“Ah, come on,” Roeder’s hand landed on Wylan’s shoulder, not an unfriendly gesture but Wylan flinched all the same.

Roeder didn’t seem to notice.

“One drink,” he continued, still not moving his hand away, “That’s all I ask,”

Wylan tried to say something but the words refused to take shape, dissolved in his tongue like granules of sugar. He stepped back slightly, and, thank Ghezen, Roeder let go of him.

“C’mon,” Roeder said again, beckoning him, “we can-”

“Roeder,”

Wylan and Roeder both jumped at the sight of Inej, appearing as if from nowhere, melting out of the shadows and rising into being as though she were actually part of them herself, now manifested into a physical form. He hadn’t had cause to see the Wraith often, but he’d been ceaselessly impressed by her ability to erase and reconstruct herself each time he had. He was also nervous, after knowing she’d stayed silently in Kaz’s office whilst they spoke, that she also suspected he wasn’t being entirely truthful about his sight. It made him wary of her; he hoped to avoid her where he could, but it seemed it wasn’t ever up to you whether you found each other or not. And then, of course, there was still that this was Inej; this was the girl who’d sat down next to him in a Chemistry class and talked to him like no-one at university ever did, the girl who’d asked him for help with Kerch translations and to explain nucleophilic substitution, the girl he’d walked with between classes and thought he might be able to call a friend. The girl who’d lied to him. But then, once again, who was Wylan to demand the truth from anyone?

“Kaz wants to talk to you,” she said, eyes still so fixed on Roeder that it was as though she’d barely noticed Wylan was there.

“What does he want?”

Inej only shrugged and Roeder sighed, glanced back at his friends for a moment, then Wylan a strange, short goodbye and wandered off, straightening the lapel of his ugly jacket as he went. Only when he’d vanished up the stairs did Inej say:

“Everything went off without a hitch. The money will take a while to come in, and it will have to be laundered through one of the Dregs’ businesses first, to be safe, but it shouldn’t take too long,”

Wylan swallowed tightly, nodding.

“Whose-? I mean-”

Inej watched him for a moment, with dark eyes that seemed to cut straight through his skin and see deep within him.

“The bridge is only three years old, and the collapse doesn’t look intentional. The architect’s other work is suddenly going to be called into question, including the biggest ice storage in the Warehouse District. They’ll send inspectors to the ice house and find several unforgivable violations; the ice house will close, the price of ice will suddenly rise. The Dregs have stock in one of the smaller ice storages in town - and, as of two days ago, a deal with a very successful fishmonger who will unexpectedly have to raise his prices when it suddenly costs him so much more to keep his produce cool,”

Wylan stared at her. They were tampering with the markets. Embarrassingly, his first thought was that’s illegal. But then he was struck by something else: this was the way his father thought; the way the entire Merchant Council protected their fortunes.

“But that’s…”

He swallowed his words as he realised he was about to say clever. He had not appreciated how much thought, how much preparation, how much detail, there was; how much this was business. He could’ve been sitting in that stupid Economics of Business and Markets class zoning out the lecture and pretending he didn’t know that Jesper, not that he’d known his name back then, was staring at him from across the room.

Still, this didn’t explain all of it, did it? Jesper had said they had to keep someone distracted all night; what role did the card tables play in any of this?

It was becoming very clear to Wylan that information was a currency in the Barrel, just as much as strength and cash and blood, and between Kaz and Inej he was pretty sure he knew two of the richest people in Ketterdam. He just had to make sure they didn’t manage to steal anything from him.

[spiderfunkz]

✧.* silver soul

— summary : after everything that has happened, you try to live again, to try to forget and move on. but the thought of all the memories you've had with a specific redhead can't seem to get out of your head.

— pairings : natasha romanoff x gn!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : major character death, angst angst angst angsttttt, reader is an avenger (they're basically in clints position in that one scene), mentions of isolation, losing a loved one, depression, grief, nightmares, not getting enough sleep, pet names, foul language, let me know if i missed any, no happy ending.

a/n : this is so messy i am so sorry + sorry if some of the things mentioned don't add up to the timeline or just don't make sense in general :,) canons kinda off of the table this time & this is basically based off of silver soul by beach house. also english isn't my first language so expect some typos maybe (italics are memories/flashbacks)

🎵 it is happening again,

it's two am in the morning, your back aches as you sit up on your bed, trying to gain your energy back.

at this point, this has become a routine. waking up earlier than the whole of new york, sitting on your bed for a few minutes before all of the memories start to come back like stone hitting a window.

fuck, you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. when was the last time you had a good nights sleep? oh wait.

🎵 it is happening again,

the sun reflects on your soft skin as you woke up, groaning, pulling the sheets back up.

"morning, love." natasha whispered, kissing your cheek. "how did you sleep?"

"amazing." you smiled, "dreamt of you."

mornings like this is something you would always love, waking up in the perfect time and sharing the rest of the day with your perfect girlfriend.

"yeah?" — "mhm, dreamt that we had a house in the middle of flower fields with cats." you continued.

"someday we will, maybe when we get married. i promise." natasha replied, holding you close.

🎵 it is happening again oh,

'i promise.' it echoes through your mind, what if things never got that complicated? maybe you could've lived your life with nat.

but it didn't.

she broke your promise and you lost her. and the worst thing is that you can't do anything about it. you didn't have the power to do anything anymore.

you've lost yourself.

🎵 it is happening again,

it hurts to think about all the promises you've made with her. you're being dramatic maybe, but come on.

yes, you knew how hard you and nat's job were sometimes, but you've always found a way to manage it.

you loved it and hated it at the same time.

you loved how it saved you from the horrible place you came from, you loved the moments you spend in the tower, you love the family and memories it has given you, and you love the relationship that grew between you and nat.

but you hated how it took that away.

🎵 the bodies lying in the sand,

you would do anything in the whole universe to switch your positions in that moment.

sometimes you wake up hoping natasha's there beside you in your bed, as it was all just another nightmare.

but that never happened, your shared bed is now cold on one side. the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of nat's cooking is gone. the living room now felt dead, there was no more dry jokes to make you laugh, love notes that causes butterflies in your stomach, cuddling that makes you feel warm.

those are all just memories, moments that can't be shared again.

🎵 they're moving in the dark,

'a soul for a soul.'

your heart was beating rapidly. hanging on the edge of a cliff in vormir isn't what you had in mind.

especially when your holding your lover with every single muscle and energy you have.

"let me go."

you needed to think of something, you can't let go, not when you've spent every moment with her making promises and plans just for it to go away.

"let me go, y/n."

"no! no! just let me think nat, i can figure something out."

you always do, you've found ways to get out of certain situations your entire life, so why can't you think of one now?

tears were streaming down your face, your arms were burning to let go but you couldn't.

she could see the fear in your eyes, how your hands were starting to sweat.

"it's okay, love, it's okay." she repeated.

"please don't." you sobbed.

🎵 it is so quick to let us in, we feel it moving through our skin,

you yelled and yelled, cried and cried.

she was gone, actually.

you closed your eyes and try to muscle up all your strength and get back up to get the stone.

this is what she would've wanted, for all of this to end peacefully, to save millions of lives even if it meant her own.

"y/n wheres nat?"

fuck damn it.

you were trying your best to keep yourself together, but you didn't realize how badly this question could hit you.

the realisation in their faces made it worse.

you were all basically family.

you shook your head and sobbed, wishing that you could've just switch positions.

🎵 it's a sickness, infinite quickness,

you've attended her funeral and stayed there many times. talking to her as if she was still there. she was still there in you.

you've isolated yourself from everyone and everything for a month and maybe more.

the scene of her falling replaying in your head and nothing could shake the thought of it off.

sleep is just for nightmares that replay the same image, waking up now feels empty, showers are just attempts at drowning out all your thoughts, and living isn't that good anymore.

the memory box gathering dust in the corner of your room as you refuse to open it as it is too much for you.

everytime you try to open it you feel sick. you've tried contacting some of your friends for help but it was no use.

you've tried going to the gym to relieve stress but it just gave you memories of training with natasha.

for the whole month you've gotten out of your apartment 7 times.

2 times for groceries,

1 time for the gym,

2 times as an attempt to rebuild your relationship with your friends,

1 time to chat with clint,

and 1 time to just, try and live again.

even with all of the attempts you've made, a huge piece of you is still with natasha. and nothing could ever fix that.

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again.

[nuvolisa]

Branches of a timeline

It was six AM when Marinette woke up in a cold sweat and with tears in her eyes. It had worked, and the awful nightmare she just had was just proving her theory. Without wasting any second, just throwing on the least atrocious outfit she could find in two minutes, she decided to transform. She had to do this, even though she hated the idea with her whole heart. Ladybug swallowed her bile and fled out of her balcony.

Ladybug rushed to Alix’s house, sprinting through the buildings of Paris with her yo-yo and a face of pure terror. Her eyes were bulging and her skin was as pale as porcelain: from her face, one would’ve thought it was the end of the World. And they wouldn’t be too far off, just not in the way any of them could ever be expecting.

Truth was that she had managed to contact the creator of the miraculi through her kwagatama. And the mage had terrible, terrible news to share, when she finally did.

“We need to go back in time, now!” she screamed at the girl, who looked at her like she was seeing someone being possessed by demons.

“Calm down girl, I just woke up,” replied the girl, holding out a carrot for her kwami to feed.

“I know, I know, it’s just… I think this is really the end for all of us,” Ladybug explained briefly. The more details she was going to tell, the worst it would be to actually convince the girl to help.

“What is it? Has Hawkmoth come back from the dead?” Alix asked, putting on a pair of jeans. Couldn’t this wait at least until after breakfast.

“There’s a problem in the timeline… it’s bad. Somehow, the entire timeline is wrong. I’ve seen it,” the hero explained with a broken voice. It’s hard to explain such things, things that are bigger than the cosmos.

“Go on.”

Ladybug looked away as Alix put on a shirt. “First, let’s get into the Burrow.”

Alix nodded in understanding, finally calling on her transformation. As the two entered into the ring of light, Marinette took a look around Alix’s room, knowing that it was the last thing she will ever see in this life.

“So?” Bunny asked, with her arms crossed. She really was starving, and she would’ve appreciated if the hero could’ve waited for her to have breakfast.

“Look, I’m going to sound insane. But you know that the miraculi work in mysterious ways, and so I’ve been able to contact the original creator. The first mage who forged the miraculi and all the other powers,” Ladybug started explaining, her hands gesturing around nervously, like she couldn’t contain her nerves in her body.

Bunnyx nodded in acknowledgment. Ladybug took another deep breath.

“He told me that making the gods and the humans interact was a terrible idea. He explained that the fact that the miraculi exist is the reason why we are doomed. That’s because the miraculi are a temporal loop problem: there will be someone in the future who’s going to come back to the creator and teach him how to make them, after he learned what Hawmoth had done. The miraculi existing is a testament to human hubris and stupidity, and the multiverse is going to pay, unless we stop it now!” Ladybug had tears in her eyes, but she didn’t notice. There was a more urgent matter at hand.

Bunnyx looked at her with a sorrowful expression on her face. The gravity of the situation was dooming on her now, and she put a hand to her heart. “B-but that means…”

“… That the current universe we’re living in is going to get destroyed, I know. But we are standing on a paradox, and it’s either now or when it will be too late. You know how dangerous paradoxes are for the multiverse,” continued Ladybug for her.

“How do we do this without creating more paradoxes?” Bunnyx asked.

“We need to go into the future, when the butterfly miraculous holder’s disciple will be tasked to go back in time and teach the mage how to forge the miraculi. Then, we will simply need to block his entrance to the Burrow somehow,” Ladybug explained.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Bunnyx, not entirely convinced about all of this. It was basically a death sentence, but it was either this way or in a much more scenic, awfully disastrous way.

Ladybug pointed at one of the windows, and Bunnyx got closer, rewinding what was going to happen.

The year was 2035, and an older Chris Lahiffe was being sent by a masked woman back in time. For some reason, the brother of their classmate had the rabbit miraculous.

Bunnyx opened the portal, and the two teens showed up in the strange, underground room. As they looked around to pinpoint the location of the young man, they were welcomed by an “old friend”.

“How many years! It’s a pleasure to finally see you again, dark wings fall!”

In front of them was unmistakably Lila, she had been the one to order to Chris to go back in time and ensure that the miraculi could exist. Ladybug tied her up in her yo-yo.

“Fucking piece of trash, of course it could only be you to cause such an awful amount of damage, order him to stop!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, silly. Do you really think I can control him?” the woman replied, with a mocking expression that made Marinette want nothing more than to punch her in the face.

With Lila tied up to her throne, Ladybug and Bunnyx sprinted toward the guy, who had been trying his hardest to understand how the magical clock worked.

They reached him just in time, pulling him back from the portal that would've sent him back in time. Bunnyx gave him a well-assessed hit with her umbrella. "Sorry, Chris," Ladybug said, panting heavily, "The future of the universe depends on this."

Ladybug grabbed the clock from his hands and shot it to the ground, at the same time as Alix did hers. As the two clocks became unusable, the ground behind them started trembling.

Marinette undid her transformation and ran to hug Alix. Tears strolled down their cheeks.

Marinette’s limbs started disappearing into thin air. “It worked,” she whispered, filled with pride, fear and dread. She tried to hug Alix tighter.

Catharsis. Purification. Everything turns white, like in the burrow. Mistakes and errors all wash away as everything gets corrected once more: it has happened a million times, it happens this time too. As the two girls watched each other disappear, the world around them crumble and their stories become nothing more than a possibility in another multiverse entirely, they smiled through the tears.

“I won’t forget you, in any universe,” said Marinette, putting her forehead against the head of the girl.

“You’ll be my hero in every universe,” replied Alix.

Then, it was all white.

Marinette wakes up in her bedroom, opening her eye to see a ray of sunlight come through the roller shutter. It’s just another saturday.

As she walks down the stair into the kitchen, her mother is making breakfast and watching the TV. Her father is intently looking at the newspaper for the latest football news, doing so just to procrastinate having to mow the lawn.

“Good morning sweetie. Did Theo wake up yet?” her maman asks, putting the moka on the stove.

“Mister sleepyhead wouldn’t wake up if an atomic bomb was dropped near him,” Marinette says, serving herself some juice.

“Did you sleep well?” asks her father, his eyes glued to the last PSG match on the paper.

A small smile actually forms on her lips. “You wouldn’t believe the dream I had tonight!”

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This is the premises of a new AU I've decided to create, where I give Marinette a regular life without magic and supervillains running around her city :D Hope you like it