#i’ve also noticed this strange surge in people who are like

[caeslxys]

c3 was never about bells hells and the moon. the moon was just the holding box for predathos. c3 was about Exandria as a whole and its future going forward. a future bells hells showed they wanted no part of working towards when they whined about having to speak up for the reilorians and when none of their epilogues involves any plans to tackle any harmful systems currently present in Exandria or any future ones when the betrayers pop up. imogen invited the god of slavery and tyranny to become a king and fucked off to some woodland cottage. none of them even gave a shit enough to find out about ludinus, tell anyone he was still alive or make any plans to actually defeat the campaign villian.

When I mentioned in my last post that most criticism of c3–especially on here—is often misdirected this is exactly what I mean, so thank you for the flawless example to use to prove my point.

C3 was always about bells hells and the moon. It was, also, always about the gods and predathos and the breaking of cycles unending. What you are saying, that you feel the campaign ultimately wasn’t about them, is a result of my last post’s criticism of c3’s final act’s pacing, but not true of the campaign on the whole in the slightest. I do find it hard to argue this point only because if you managed to watch 400+ hours of this story and come out the other side willfully misunderstanding it this badly, I’m not sure there’s an argument to be made that someone who thinks this may consider worthwhile.

As for their epilogues—well, one this is yet another thing my post specifies as something i wish were different, so it isn’t like I think it was handled all that well—but it is a blatant lie. Imogen specified—before she mentioned her cabin, if you could stop hating the concept of these characters having internal motivations and desires separate from the plot long enough to listen to what is happening on screen as well as reconcile that, again, this is ultimately a flaw that resulted from c3’s act 3 pacing—that she spends the following months helping ruidians acclimate and helping them feel accepted. Do I wish we had more time there, spent actually with bells hells doing this work? Absolutely, that’s kind of the root cause of my criticism of act 3’s pacing as a whole. They dropped the ball there, but that doesn’t magically erase the character work done to establish that bells hells cares about these people and actively defends them at every chance they get. Especially Imogen Temult. If you think otherwise, you did not listen to a word she has said, but especially none within the finale itself.

I, truthfully, have no idea where the concept of bells hells “whining” about helping or speaking up for the ruidians came from. I can’t argue it because it is, also, a blatant lie. At absolute most they expressed exhaustion after fighting a god and keeping two friends from near (and actual) death. Which is not at all the same as “whining”, either literally or in an internal character sense.

As for Ludinus, I would argue that I think that’s fitting. Ludinus was always a conduit for the larger themes at play in c3, never “the” conflict, as it were. It would make less sense to me for bells hells to focus on finding him if he got away—especially if he’s inactive, as he seems to be. Ultimately they did kill him where it mattered most. I’m not sure I would want the story to end with bells hells seeking out and killing someone who i can’t imagine even wanting to fight back at the moment. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it, but that bells hells was never actually centered solely on him on a macro scale, and it would feel unsatisfying.

Also, respectfully, the “imogen invited a god of tyranny to be king” thing is just a blatant twisting of the scene and of her words. She was clearly being facetious. It was a mocking line. She was making fun of him.

All that to say: most of what you pointed out—the part, at least, that wasn’t an outright lie—is not a result of the text simply “never being about [x]”, but specifically is a result of the final act of campaign 3 falling short of the narratives it had always set up. Therefore, as I began, it is a criticism that is fundamentally misdirected.

[cocostyles]

Love Lies Bleeding — Naruto Uzumaki

pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x fem uchiha reader!

word count: 1216 k

summary: Naruto hasn’t been present since he became Hokage.

warnings; fem reader, heartbreak, breakup, english is not my first language

part two

Years had passed since you first met Naruto Uzumaki. Back when you were just children dreaming of becoming ninjas, he had lit up your life with his contagious smile and unshakable optimism. You had fallen in love with his determination and charisma, seeing in him not just the hyperactive boy who dreamed of becoming Hokage, but also the man who would one day change the world. You always saw his great potential and had faith in him. Now, that dream had come true. Naruto was the Seventh Hokage of Konoha, and while the world celebrated him, you felt more alone than ever.

Over time, you had learned to accept that Naruto had responsibilities that extended beyond you. However, that understanding began to turn into an unbearable weight that barely let you breathe. The dinners he promised to attend turned into cold plates. The nights he said he’d be home early ended with you falling asleep on the couch, waiting for him after crying yourself dry.

One day, after a long silence between the two of you, you decided to talk to him.

“Naruto, I feel like you’re not here with me anymore. You do so much for everyone else, but… what about us? I miss you.”

Naruto looked at you with those blue eyes that had always melted your heart. His gaze softened, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

“That’s not true. I love you more than anything. How could you doubt that?” he said, taking your hands. “I know I’ve been busy, but I’ll find my rhythm soon, and we’ll be fine.”

You wanted to believe him, but that very night, you found yourself alone again. He had promised to be there, but an “emergency” had pulled him back to his office.

As time passed, the emptiness in your chest only grew. You truly tried everything to rekindle the connection you once had, back when you went on missions together: preparing his favorite meals, decorating your home to give him a warm welcome, even finding moments to visit him at the Hokage Tower. But Naruto always seemed distracted, absorbed in something you couldn’t reach.

One sleepless night, you decided to take a walk. The streets of Konoha were quiet since the war, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. Without realizing it, your steps took you toward the Hokage Tower. As you approached, you noticed the light in the main office was still on. Curious, and with a strange feeling in your stomach, you decided to go up and see if you could convince him to leave his work behind and come home, just for tonight.

As you reached the door, you heard laughter. It wasn’t Naruto’s laugh—you knew it well. Nor was it the kind of laugh one hears in a formal meeting. It was feminine, sweet, and intimate. Your heart began to race as you stepped closer, your hands clammy and cold. Then, you saw them through the crack in the door.

Naruto was leaning toward another woman, someone you immediately recognized as a kunoichi who worked closely with him. They were far too close, their hands brushing against each other, looking at one another as if they were the only people in the world, sharing a moment that left no room for misinterpretation.

The ground seemed to disappear beneath your feet. Everything you had built with him—all the trust, promises, and dreams—shattered in that instant. But then, anger surged through your veins, burning away the shock. The pain and rage churned in your chest, suffocating you, but you refused to remain silent. With firm steps, you pushed the door open, the sound of it slamming against the wall echoing in the room.

“Naruto?” Your voice trembled, but not from fear—from barely restrained fury.

Both of them turned to you, startled. Naruto stood up immediately, his face pale.

“Love… this isn’t what it looks like.”

You crossed your arms, your gaze fixed solely on him. The disappointment in your eyes was unmistakable. It felt like your heart was being ripped apart, the betrayal cutting deeper because he had been your friend before anything else.

“Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like while I’m at home waiting for you, doing everything I can to keep this relationship afloat, you’re here… having fun?”

Naruto froze. You were right. He had neglected you for something that offered a fleeting distraction in his relentless life, something that wasn’t even worth it. That’s why he hadn’t left you—because he still loved you more than anything, just as he had since you were children, when he used to tease you about marrying him someday, and you’d laugh, saying he’d never deserve you. How right you had been.

The kunoichi stood, uncomfortable in the heavy silence between you.

“I should go…” she murmured, but you raised a hand, stopping her instantly. Your Sharingan flared to life, its fiery red gaze freezing her in place.

“No. Stay. This isn’t just my issue—it involves you too.” You turned your attention back to Naruto. “So? What’s going on here?”

Naruto swallowed hard, avoiding your gaze. “It’s not what you think. She was just helping me with some documents. It’s late, and we were just relaxing a little.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound sent a chill down Naruto’s spine—it reminded him of Sasuke’s icy fury, and for the first time, he felt afraid. He had never seen you like this.

“Relaxing? Do you know how many nights I’ve spent alone while you’re ‘working’? How many times I’ve convinced myself this is just a phase, that things would get better?” Your voice cracked. “How long has this been going on?”

“I’m not doing anything!” Naruto responded, louder than necessary. But his uncertain expression betrayed him.

You shook your head, the pain and frustration finally spilling over as tears you could no longer hold back.

“You always said you loved me, that I was your priority. But I’m not, am I? You don’t even have the decency to admit it!”

The kunoichi stepped back, startled by your rising anger, and tried to intervene. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble—”

Without looking at her, you spoke coldly, your voice sharp as a blade. “You’ve caused enough trouble. Leave.”

She nodded quickly and left, leaving you and Naruto alone in the room, the air thick with tension.

“I…” Naruto began, but you raised a hand to stop him.

“No more excuses, Naruto. I always tried to be understanding, but this… this is something I can’t ignore.”

Naruto tried to approach you, but you stepped back, the thought of his touch repulsing you.

“I need you to stay away from me,” you said firmly, though your heart ached as the words left your lips. “I want you out of my house.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the office, leaving Naruto alone, guilt etched into his face. The frustration boiled over as he swept everything off his desk, tears burning his cheeks.

That night, as you walked home with your heart in pieces, a decision began to form in your mind. You needed to leave Konoha, at least for a while. You had devoted your life to someone who had once meant everything to you. But now, you realized you had lost Naruto long before that night.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 14

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: The aftermath continues.

You waited for what you thought was around half an hour after the hushed conversation to let Frank and Billy know you were awake. You moved a little in the bed and groaned as a result.

“Princess?” “Baby?”

You felt their hands on your face and hands. Unable to control your emotions, physically and mentally exhausted you began to cry. You felt your omega in the back of your mind whimpering . You heard and felt Frank and Billy try to comfort you, but the past conversation flashed in your mind. Your powers surged and the lights flickered.

“Easy, it’s just us baby.”

Static electricity ran through your hands and the lights flickered more. You pushed down the sob in your chest as the door flew open and Fiona marched in.

“Get back, her powers are unstable.”

As Frank and Billy failed to move, Fiona pushed Billy aside, shooing him round to the other side of the bed to where Frank was standing.

“I said move, now step aside.” She cupped your face and began to shush you. “Easy child, breath, centre yourself, you’ve been out for a few days.”

“Days!” You gasped, throat dry from being unused. “Fiona, Agatha, is, is she, did I?”

“She’s gone sister.”

You began to cry more.

“Oh my god, I, I killed her. What have I done? I’ve killed a witch.”

The lights began to flicker and the room began to vibrate. Frank tried to reassure you.

“Kid, she got what was coming to her. It was only a matter of time before someone took her down.”

Fiona sat herself on to the edge of the bed and pulled you against her, your head on her shoulder as you cried more.

“Come on child you are strong than this.”

“But I, this isn’t just fighting with another witch, I, I knew, I always said I'd snap her like a damn twig but this, oh goddess what have I done!” You gasped as you spoke and began to splutter. Fiona summoned a glass of water from the hospital table and it floated towards you. You reached out for it but paused as you noticed your fingers and hands were bandaged and frowned.

“From the power surge and the lightening.”

You nodded, still confused, lightening? As you took a sip you realised how Fiona had given you the water and pulled away from her slightly. You sniffed at her and looked down at the water and then back at her.

“You, you gave me this?”

“I did.” She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. The black of her finger tips had faded.

“You got them back?”

“Of course I did, as did all the others that were taken from.”

Your eyes went wide.

“All of them?”

“So far, everyone that has checked in has their powers returned.”

“And those that were gone? That she killed?”

“Returned to the goddesses as they should be.”

You let out a shuddered breath and took a sip of the water. Fiona pulled you back against her.

“How much do you remember?” She asked.

“Ermmmm, putting the shield up, the hostages, her trying to hurt Billy.” You looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry if I hurt you Bill.”

“Hurt me? Princess, you saved my life.” He replied taking a spot on the bed as he squeezed your hand.

“Did I get it all?” You asked glancing at Fiona.

“You did, I checked him over myself.”

You nodded.

“Is that all you remember?” Asked Fiona.

“Ermmm I remember being in the air, the spell, the thunder.” You looked down at your fingers.

“After the last push the goddesses stepped in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even Agatha can only avoid redemption for so long.”

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t just you that put an end to Agatha Harkness, so did those above.”

Your connection with the goddesses was rocky at best but you felt some sort of comfort knowing that it wasn’t just you that had finally given Agatha what she deserved. Fiona observed as Frank and Billy watched you with concern. Frank leaned over the bed and pushed your hair from your face. Fiona felt the warmth in you as your powers flickered. She squeezed your free hand and looked down at you, catching the sadness in your eyes as you looked back at her. Realising there was more to your emotional state, she decided it was time to get the others from the room.

“Well, now she’s awake, you two can stand down and take a break.”

Frank responded gruffly.

“We’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh you are. I need to help get her powers stable and you two being here won’t help. There’s too many emotions in the room.”

“What? We can’t be worried? We can’t care about our….” Billy snapped.

“I didn’t say that, I’m telling you we have work to do and you can’t be here. Now step outside before I put you there.”

Billy and Frank both went to speak but you stopped them quickly.

“She’s right. I always struggle with the balancing and keeping them stable when I’m emotional.” You looked down at your bandaged hands. “And these aren’t helping. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You gave them your best omega puppy eyes and they both nodded, each placing a kiss on your forehead as they went to leave the room.

“We’ll be right outside if you need anything.” Frank said opening the door to leave.

“She won’t and take a damn shower you stink.” Came Fiona’s reply as she pushed them through the door with her powers, shutting it tightly and locking it with a spell.

They were met with the sniggering of Luke and Jess, and Matt’s directions to the spa like showers Stark had arranged.

Back in the room Fiona turned towards you, as she set a spell around the room.

“We’re locked in, no one can hear us, you want to tell me what’s going on? What’s the situation with you, Castle and Russo?”

When Frank and Billy got back, they were met by Jess and Luke at the door. Not at your bedside as they’d asked.

“What are you doing out here?” Frank asked.

“The witch put a spell up, wouldn’t let us in.” Jess said looking down at her feet.

“I don’t want her on her own. I made that clear.”

“She’s not on her own.” Luke answered, “Fiona’s still in there, and Logan’s back with Jean and Storm.”

Frank went to walk towards the room but Jess moved to block the doorway. Frank cocked his eyebrow at her.

“What did you say to her?” Jess asked.

“What do you mean?”

“What did you say to her? Before you left?”

“Nothing, why?”

“She trashed the place.” Luke replied.

“WHAT!? Why didn’t you call me?”

“She asked us not to.” Jess answered this time, “And before you tell me I should of anyway, I owe her Frank. She saved my baby’s life, probably mine too. She could ask me for a kidney and I’d give it to her.”

Frank’s shoulders hunched over and he let out a sigh.

“Do you think she heard us Frankie?” Billy asked.

Before he had chance to answer. The door swung open and Fiona appeared.

“Murdock, are you still a practicing lawyer?”

“I am, why do you ask?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D, the F.B.I and the W.A.C want to talk to her.”

“Wait, she’s in trouble?” Luke asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but they want her statement right away and I don’t trust any of them.”

The next few hours were spent with you giving a verbal statement to the different agencies. Matt and Foggey stayed throughout and ensured the conversation was recorded. A piece of Stark Tech ensuring the recording couldn’t be tampered with or altered. Fiona also stood guard at your side, ignore the requests to leave the room.

As an unclaimed omega, and under some archaic law, you could also have an alpha present. Much to everyone’s surprise you’d agreed and asked for Jean.

Frank had gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, until Fiona had asked him a simple question.

“Are you a witch that’s been interviewed by these assholes, whilst under caution? No, well Jean is.”

The others had pointed out it made sense. Jean was of course an alpha, a witch and she’d been in your position. You were also a close friend and about to be the birthing partner to their mate, she’d protect you like one of her own. But it didn’t stop Frank trying to listen at the door and huffing as he grew more and more impatient.

“You know the W.A.C Agent put a spell up?” Storm said watching from her chair in the waiting area across from your room. The standard chairs and furnishings replaced with comfortable ones, again courtesy of Tony Stark. “It’s also rude to eavesdrop. If you want to listen just say so.”

Storm clicked her fingers with one hand as the other rubbed her growing bump with the other, the voices from the other room now heard where they were waiting.

“Thought it was rude to eavesdrop?” Logan asked from his spot at her side.

“Oh hush you.”

The group in the waiting room, now consisting of Logan, Storm, Elektra, Billy and Frank listened as the questioning seemed to come to a close. That was until the F.B.I Agent decided to overstep.

“And where will you be now, moving forward? Where will you be residing?”

There was a group of signs and tutting from both inside and outside your hospital room. Matt was the first to speak.

“Agent, you and I, my colleague here and everyone both in and outside of this room know you cannot ask her that, or do we need to start quoting the Roaming Act to you and your superior. I’ll make this very clear, you and that goes for all of you, S.H.I.E.L.D and W.A.C too, do not follow, track or contact her. Any contact comes via me or Foggey as part of our representation of her. Many are thankful for Y/N's intervention of Agatha Harkness and we’d hate for word to get out that you were treating her like you weren’t thankful or with the respect she deserves.”

“I think that wraps things up.” Foggey added. “Our client is under doctor’s order to rest and she’s given you enough of her time under the circumstances. The device will send the full recording to each of your emails. Elektra will walk you out.”

Fiona opened the door with her powers as Elektra stood waiting the other side, shutting the door quickly as the agents left and before anyone had chance to enter.

“Now, just for my own knowledge” Matt started “and if you don’t feel comfortable you don’t have to tell me, but it's useful for me to know as your lawyer, where will you be?”

You took a deep breath as much as you could with the way your body ached.

“Brookville, I’ll be in Brookville.”

Meanwhile in Brookville…………

Tony strolled into the hospital room as Happy followed closely behind him hands full of coffees.

Steve stood quickly as they entered the room.

“Any news?” He asked.

“Weird” Tony replied nodding towards Pietro unconscious in the hospital bed “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Tony.”

“Oh relax Rogers, you’ve got your missing pack member back. You can quit being so snippy.”

Steve couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest. Sure it had eased as Castle’s pack had carried Pietro from the hostages hiding spot to their jet but part of it remained, and he wondered what had happened to the witch that had saved one of his pack members lives and finally put an end to Agatha Harkness.

Wanda’s voice broke Steve from his thoughts.

“I’d like to know how she is.”

They all knew it was unlikely you’d survived. Nobody had ever gone head to head with Agatha and lived to tell the tale.

Nat was next to speak.

“Omega,” she said squeezing Wanda’s hand “it’s unlikely she survived that.”

“Actually Romanoff, you’re wrong.”

“What?” Steve asked, his head snapping in Tony’s direction.

Tony noisily dragged a chair over to Pietro’s bedside before propping his feet on the edge of the bed.

“Tony.”

“She’s alive and she’s awake. Oh and I'm offering her a place to stay.”

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TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @slut4srogers @jvanilly @mrsevans90 @otterlycanadian

[joonapeach]

on a night like this [MLB]

summary: 

“Hey,” Chat starts off. “Hypothetically… if you liked someone-” “I do like someone.” “Since you like someone,” Chat continues. “How do you act with them?” “Hm?” “What are you like when you like someone?” he said. “I’m curious. Since I’ll never get to see it, it’s only fair you at least share the information, don’t you think?” (Alternatively… Chat indulges in his curiosity to find out what the girl of his dreams is like when she likes someone, only to realize it sounds oddly familiar.)

author’s note:  fun fact this started as a drabble but ended up with me itching so bad to write and ensure that i haven’t lost all my skill in writing so it is now what it is... alternatively me feeling very self conscious about the quality of this compared to other things i’ve written on here but still wanting to write about two superhero teenagers and the weight of their lives and identities

also reposted on ao3

Quiet nights were Chat Noir’s favorites.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy the job of crime fighting, or of course, the moments after he’d done the work well enough to warrant applause and attention… but quiet nights had found themselves to be special to Chat Noir. In the still of the night, while still wrapped up in magical latex, there was a way to exist as both a boy and a superhero.

It was in these moments when he had nothing to do and nowhere to be at all, that he found himself thinking as Adrien and Chat Noir both at once. Did he finish tomorrow’s homework? Would Hawkmoth akumatize that crying woman on the street right now? Oh, was fencing in tomorrow’s schedule? Did he need to increase patrol nights after the last surge of villains?

It was a strange experience, to exist as two people, all the more strange to exist as them simultaneously. Adrien didn’t understand at times where he began and where Chat Noir ended. 

“How different do you think you are?” he began. “To Ladybug?”

Contrary to what anyone else might think, it was harder to start conversations for Chat Noir while not out of breath and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. When he was forced to think only as his superhero self, there were a plethora of things he could find himself wanting to say to Ladybug in the heated moments of battle. She would respond in a beat too.

Now, with the luxury of all the time in the world and the chance to be both who he had always been and recently become, he found himself stumbling over awkward starter questions and pretentious sounding attempts at heartfelt conversations. 

“You mean my not-Ladybug self to my Ladybug self?” her chirpy voice answered behind him. Chat Noir listened to the way her feet would land so delicately from rooftop to rooftop on quiet patrol nights, almost carefully as if she could fall from the wrong step. The way she moved when they fought, with all eyes on them, to now was starkly different.

“Yeah. Your everyday self.”

“That’s a little invasive, don’t you think?” Ladybug answered with a laugh. 

Chat Noir rolled his eyes. “Come on, I can at least ask this much about you! Or would you rather doom me to isolating thoughts about this very abnormal life I live, who only one other person in this world would understand?”

“Don’t put it that way. You have Plagg,” Ladybug offered with an amused glint in her eyes. 

“You think he can take his attention off whatever nasty smell is around him for more than ten minutes to console me on my identity crises?” Chat Noir laughed. It was not completely true that Plagg was so apathetic to Adrien’s confusion to his double-existence. Plagg had been more attentive of Adrien’s thoughts than any family in his house, though there was only so much a kwami could understand about a human’s mind.

There was a noticeable change to Ladybug’s demeanor when she spoke next. “Oh. Do you regularly experience an identity crisis?” she asked, her brows furrowing. “Has everything been okay?”

“You don’t need to worry, it’s not like that. Identity crisis is an overstatement.”

“Well, then?”

Adrien’s head looked down at the streets as the two stopped alongside the edge of a building. In the daytime, he too roamed around these alleys and paths, though as a completely different person. On nights like these, he found himself flying across skies.

“Living as two different people is something I’m still understanding,” he confessed. “One moment, I’m thinking about something so ordinary and human, like an assignment I have or cleaning my room. Next moment, the city’s under attack and I’m thinking about what I have to do in the next half hour to stop the deaths of hundreds of people,” he turned to Ladybug. “It feels like I’m living a human experience, then suddenly, it doesn’t… not that I’m saying Chat Noir is not a human or something! I don’t think I’m above anyone or anything, you know, I just- ah, where was I going with this?”

Ladybug smiled. Chat Noir loved that smile. “Don’t worry. I get it,” she said. “I'm probably the only other person in the world who gets it, right?”

He laughed sheepishly. “Something like that.”

She pointed to the next building in view after scanning the streets carefully. Chat Noir wondered if she, too, felt like two versions of herself existed on nights like this, while watching over the city with no imminent danger. Did she too feel like her mind was louder tonight, with the voices of two separate worlds?

Chat Noir swung from his metal stick from one rooftop to the next, with the ease of the movement feeling akin to walking. He landed on his feet perfectly. Something that looked so marvelous on television to others was just a simple repeated motion for him. As simple as catching a ball or jumping up.

Ladybug followed, landing behind him seconds later. “It’s not easy for me either. The way I have to think when I’m not in this suit is very different to the way I think when I’m fighting. No one in my life suspects I’m Ladybug either, despite some close calls, and honestly? Sometimes, that makes it worse. It makes it feel like I really am two different people, and I’m lying to my other self when I’m in the suit… I’ve wished for people to suspect me of being Ladybug sometimes, as awful as that sounds. Just so it would cure this.”

Chat Noir swallowed. “Oh. That different?”

“Maybe to the people who know me?” she shrugged and paused. After a moment, she hesitated to ask a question before finally indulging in it. “What about you? Would it be that much of a shock to the people who know you if they knew you were this whole other person?”

At first, Chat Noir’s immediate thought was no. He could see maybe his father being a little taken aback that his proper and polished model-citizen son was the same playful latex-wearing superhero. But Nathalie might see it as what it was – a perfect outlet for the parts of Adrien that never appeared elsewhere. His friends, Nino and the rest of the boys from school, too might not find it too surprising. The two halves of him bled into each other so seamlessly.

But then, Chat Noir thought of, strangely enough to him, a classmate who he had always worked hard to show his best self to - his kindest, most well-behaved, most perfect Adrien self he could be. Would Marinette find it believable that rowdy Chat Noir was really Adrien? She would probably lose a lot of admiration for him, he was sure.

He sighed. “I think my other self might be more preferable to some people,” he said, thinking too of the many fans Adrien Agreste had.

“Wow. You must really be all that,” Ladybug laughed. “I don’t think my civilian self could ever compare to Ladybug. She’s definitely the winner between the two versions of me.”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure what to say to that. Would it be worse to live like Ladybug, being preferred for his Chat Noir self or remain as himself? Questions like these came to his mind almost daily now. 

“I think tonight seems good. We can end it here,” Ladybug offered, halting to a stop.

The end of a quiet night so soon, his favorite type of night, made Chat Noir let out a sigh. He would have to return home and think only as Adrien now till the world called for him again. He bent, ready to perch.

“But you don’t have to leave… so soon,” a cough interrupted his departure. Chat Noir turned to see Ladybug sheepishly staring out and seated down on the edge.

He blinked. It was rare to witness Ladybug want to cling onto being Ladybug any minute longer than she had to. Chat Noir fought the blossoming feeling of hope that he was the reason for her delaying her return. It’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more. Don’t ruin it.

“More identity crises to discuss?” he grinned before jumping down next to her. 

“Oh, don’t start any more of that. You’ve given me a month’s worth of burden to unpack in my brain now,” she said. “If I was just Ladybug, like some of these superheroes in movies, who lived just to exist as a superhero, it would be so easy. Instead, I have a whole other life to think about at the same time, and then all this reflection on who I really am between these two people.”

Chat Noir nodded. “It helps me to think of what’s the same between them. Between Chat Noir and my civilian self, I mean. It kind of makes me understand how I can be both at once.”

That idea seemed to resonate with Ladybug. Chat felt pleased at how she blinked, deeply in thought, before turning to him.

“Can I trust you to very carefully share some similarities without compromising your identity and making me regret giving into my curiosity?”

He grinned. “Wow. So you do wonder about me too.”

“Don’t push it, kitty.”

“Well, for starters, since you asked so nicely, I have to share that my first similarity is I am so unbelievably handsome and charming in both selves.”

“I’m already regretting,” mumbled Ladybug, covering her face. “Forget it. I am no longer curious.”

Chat Noir laughed. Her exasperation, though he’d never let her know it, was just as delightful to watch as her moments of brilliance during fights. There were so many sides to Ladybug that captivated Chat Noir, ones that he discovered every day and night.

Quiet nights, especially. Quiet nights were his favorites, because she looked even more striking and beautiful when being accompanied by the scenery of a dark sky.

“Okay, okay. I think the easiest similarity is that I enjoy mischief just as much in my civilian self. But I can’t show that as much in that life as I can in this. It helps to be Chat Noir in that way.”

“Just as much of a delinquent in civilian life. Got it,” she said with a smile playing on her lips.

“And of course, there’s the similarity of admiring you. Both my civilian self and I, we like you very much,” he pouted. “You’re our idol.”

“Is your civilian self just as bad as hiding it?” she continued smiling, amused.

“Oh, he’s much worse than me. Can’t stop raving about her and defending her. They call me Ladybug’s number one fan.”

“Can’t be. That’s the Ladyblog.”

He grumbled. “Yeah, she’s my rival,” he complained while thinking of very real arguments Alya and him had in between classes. Alya’s justification for claiming the title was that she ran the biggest outlet for Ladybug’s news, while Adrien had nothing to offer – except of course, his countless days and nights spent in Ladybug’s company that could hardly be offered as evidence. In the end, Alya was unfortunately handed the title by the judges, Nino and a very bizarrely amused Marinette.

“Please do not terrorize her,” Ladybug suddenly blinked, eyes wide as if she really couldn’t be certain if Chat Noir wouldn’t. Then, with a laugh, she added, “she’s got a whole line of people debating her for being my biggest fan.” 

Chat Noir only rolled his eyes. Even as Chat Noir, it seemed that he couldn’t steal Alya’s title from her. “This is so unfair.”

“Sorry, kitty. You can try being someone else’s devoted fan?”

“Whose should I be?” he cocked a brow teasingly.

“No other Paris celebrity you like?”

“Well, there’s this person…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know her name though. Or how she looks,” he paused. “But whenever a crisis happens, she goes and transforms into this superhero… I’m a huge fan of her,” he grinned.

“After me, Chat Noir!” she laughed. “After me, who do you idolize?”

He hummed in thought, taking the question seriously now. “That’s easy.”

“So quick.”

“Yup. It’s another girl.”

Ladybug’s eyebrows shot up. She watched Chat Noir attentively for his answer.

“It’s a girl in my class, actually,” he explained. “She’s really kind and she’s so smart at everything she does. I think she inspires me a lot. I feel bad about myself whenever I try to impose myself on her.”

“Why’s that?” Ladybug frowned.

“She doesn’t seem like she likes me very much. She avoids crossing paths with me and then when she does talk to me first, it’s usually something said in such a hurry so that she can quickly end the conversation,” Chat Noir sighed. “I get it though. She’s got a lot going on for her, it’s probably a waste of time to talk to me.”

“Don’t say that!” Ladybug huffed. Her frown was deeper now, embedded into the lines of her forehead. “She sounds awful. Why would you be inspired by such a terrible person?”

“Hey, don’t say that about her!” Chat Noir retorted. “She’s still one of my friends.”

“I think you can find better friends,” Ladybug grumbled before muttering, “it sounds like you have a crush on her, by the way.”

Chat Noir paused. Him liking Marinette? He doesn’t think he could ever subject Marinette to him liking her, not when she would struggle to reciprocate even a comfortable friendship with him.

“Are you jealous?” he grinned. Perhaps he was hallucinating or was the quiet night suddenly not so quiet anymore? Was that his heart pumping in his ears? Violins playing in his head?

“Don’t be silly.”

“I don’t like her, so don’t be worried,” he said. “She’s just someone I think very highly of. She’s a good person and she’s always trying to help anyone she can, with however much she has. I know it doesn’t sound that way to you, but trust me… if she had a Miraculous, I know she’d be out there doing what we do. Patrolling late at night, putting herself at risk, just so others would be fine. She’s that kind of person.”

A moment of silence passed. Chat Noir worried if he overdid it a little… that last part might’ve been a twinge too much to say. What if Ladybug took offense to it? He hoped she didn’t think he meant she wasn’t doing her job well, or that Marinette would be a better Ladybug to her.

“Are you sure you don’t have a crush?” said Ladybug. “It’s a little romantic to think of an ordinary girl as deeply as you have.”

Chat Noir blinked. “More romantic than my multiple confessions to you?!”

“I’m just saying,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You should reflect a little on that.”

“She’s just a friend!”

“It always starts off that way,” Ladybug mumbled. It was the last thing she said before the night returned to silence.

Chat Noir was left with a bizarre feeling in his chest at that. He looked over to Ladybug, only to see her looking at the sky and blinking wistfully. As selfish as it sounded, he didn’t like the idea of her being so lost in thought about someone else.

He swallowed. If Ladybug had talked about someone else the way Chat Noir spoke of Marinette, would he be able to accept it? What did that make him? Did it mean… that perhaps, his thoughts and feelings of Marinette transcended the norm of platonic respect?

No more of that. He shut down the thought as quickly as it came. Instead, Ladybug took over his attention and he watched her keep to herself. There was certainly a lot running through her mind, so much that she wouldn’t share for her own drawn lines of boundaries and safety. For once, he wished she could forego them. 

There was so much more he wanted to know of her, so much more he wanted to understand about her. He wanted to watch her in her mundane life the innocent way he found himself watching Marinette sometimes – observingly and charmed. There was a whole other world of Ladybug he wanted.

“Hey,” Chat started off. “Hypothetically… if you liked someone-”

“I do like someone,” she said. Her gaze remained unmoving from the sky.

“Since you like someone,” Chat continued, placing his chin into his palm. “How do you act with them?”

“Hm?”

“What are you like when you like someone?” he said. “I’m curious. Since I’ll never get to see it, it’s only fair you at least share the information, don’t you think?”

Ladybug turned to look in surprise and laughed. The wind of the night pressed lightly against the two of them, carrying their furtive words away as soon as they were spoken. Her pigtails fluttered back and forth so delicately that Chat Noir couldn’t draw his eyes away.

“Now what is this question?” she said in bemusement. “Need to fact check your fanfiction?”

“I’ve got a point to prove to the Ladyblog on who knows Ladybug better,” he retorted.

The smile on Ladybug’s face was unwavering. Chat Noir was relieved, for he was not too certain that she wouldn’t yell at him for asking a potentially too personal question. 

“What do you think I’m like?”

“Me?! You’re asking for my opinion?”

“Just out of curiosity. The whole identity crisis thing we have, remember?”

Chat grinned. What would Ladybug be like, if she liked him? That was the real question he asked himself to imagine. He’d been rejected so many times over the years that it was hard to imagine a response to his confessions being anything other than a scolding. 

But if, by some miracle, he found himself presented with a Ladybug who liked him… what would she look like? 

“I think you’d be upfront. Much like me, not beating around the bush, but a lot more cautious with wanting to confess at the perfect right time,” he said before reluctantly adding, “that’s probably why you haven’t asked out this guy, right?”

Ladybug sighed. “You’re right about the last part, but the reasons are all jumbled up. Oh, I’m not upfront at all. I mean, I try to be but the real me is a disaster at that.”

The real her… that’s what she called her self that wasn’t Ladybug. Chat tried not to think too deeply on what those words entailed, the possibility that the other part of her, the one he didn’t know, was far more real than Ladybug. 

“You can’t be upfront with him?” he said. “Sounds like a terrible guy.”

“Watch it, he’s my friend,” she answered teasingly. “It’s not him that’s the problem. It’s me. He definitely thinks I’m so odd. Or worse… he thinks I’m rude.”

“Why would he think that?”

She sighed, and buried her face between her knees. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. No one will find someone they think weird and rude to be likable.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure it’s possible.”

“And what evidence do you have?”

Chat chewed his lip carefully. At the sign of the dejected Ladybug, he rushed to say the first bright idea he thought in his head. “The girl from my class! The one I find really amazing. She can be a little weird, even a bit rude to me at times. I still think she’s great. You know, sometimes, it’s even charming. She keeps me on my toes and she’s funny.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “So you do like her?”

“Not like that!”

She simply hummed disbelievingly in response. “How do you find that to be charming?” she said. “She sounds so different from me- well, Ladybug. Aren’t I your standard?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “I think she’s pretty cool too,” he smiled. “So tell me, what is it you’re like that you’re sure he finds weird?”

Ladybug raised herself from her desolate position on the ground before starting. “Well… I’m awfully shy. I mix up words and I can’t get a sentence out without combusting. I do stupid things like run away and freak out and oh , I even steal his things from the trash that he throws away just to see if I can know more about him. I’ll start the conversation, and then I’ll give up half-way. He��s just left there! How awful!”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s happened to me before. I’m sure he doesn’t take it to heart! I always assume she’s got something urgent to do,” he gave a reassuring, broad smile. “And the trash thing… It's sweet. Hard to imagine you doing that but sweet nonetheless. You must really like him,” he said with his smile unmoving. 

He hoped not to show it but his spirit shattered from hearing about Ladybug being so lovestruck by someone that she would forgo all her regular headstrong ideals and rules.

“It gets worse!” she groaned. “I’ve tripped so much in front of him. On air . Sometimes, into the grossest situations!”

“He doesn’t help you?” Chat cocked a critical brow. Whenever Marinette did similar things in front of him, he would always rush to her aid. But in his case, whenever he’d offer to help, it would only make things worse. Marinette must really dislike me.

“He does. But by then, I’m too embarrassed to accept the help,” she sighed. “He’s perfect and I’m mortified that I’m a mess like that.”

Chat Noir instantly reconsidered his previous statement. Too embarrassed to accept the help? Was that… what Marinette felt like? Was she feeling mortification to accept Adrien’s hand on the ground? It had to be, because there was no reason for her to hate him so much that she would reject him like that. 

“The worst part of all is that he likes Ladybug, and I know that. He’s obsessed with her. He thinks she’s cool and she’s so strong and she’s confident, and I’m not at all like that. Especially around him.”

“He could like you and Ladybug at the same time?” Chat offered hopefully, before instantly regretting his words. Stop trying to set them up, idiot!

Ladybug slumped further into glumness. “He has someone he thinks the world of. I can’t compare to Ladybug, even if I am Ladybug,” her voice wavered. “Identity crisis sucks, right?” she attempted humorously.

Chat couldn’t bear the sight. He hated to support whoever this awful person was, but he couldn’t allow Ladybug to feel like this because of him. “You can be that Ladybug and this other person at once. He can like you and her too.”

“I hope so. I haven’t stopped trying,” she murmured. “I’ve done a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah?” he said gently. “Like what?”

“Well, one time I gave him something that was pretty special to me. I thought it would show my sincerity better than my half-mumbled sentences to him,” she said. “He made me the same thing after a while as a gift. I thought it was a really nice moment.”

Chat thought back to the lucky charm stored in the desk drawer, away from the prying eyes of Nathalie. He could understand Ladybug’s story. Even in his own life, after Marinette had given that, he was certain she didn’t actually hate him as he sometimes believed.

“I’m sure he thought well of it.”

“I hope so. I hope he still kept what I gave him.”

“He must’ve,” Chat said with certainty. “I have a story similar to that and I kept what my classmate gave me.”

“Oh,” Ladybug said strangely. “Your classmate also gave you something?”

“Yeah. Actually, now that you started talking, there are some similarities between you guys. She stumbles on her words a lot too. I thought she hated me, but I think she might just be shy. Like you.”

Ladybug blinked, suddenly looking rattled. “Does she like you?!”

“What? No, of course not!” Chat laughed. “So back to your crush?”

“I think I’ve shared enough already,” retorted Ladybug. “And whatever I say, you can’t stop relating it back to your own classmate-crush!”

“She’s not my crush, my lady,” Chat countered immediately. “I just brought her up because I thought it’d make you feel better! About you know… your own thing.”

“How would she make me feel better?”

“Well, because you’re… similar?” Chat said confidently before trailing off into a question to himself. Marinette and Ladybug similar ? No, that didn’t seem right at all.

Oh, but then why did it sound so fitting in this situation?

“I am nothing like this girl!” Ladybug puffed her lip out in anger before then groaning. “I think I’m actually much worse. I broke into his private party one time! Where I wasn’t even invited.”

Chat Noir blinked, feeling a sudden strange chill creep over his body. “I’m sure he was happy that… his friend joined,” he said. A rather odd thought settled itself into Chat’s mind, and he attempted to respond as normally as he could to Ladybug while trying to shake it out.

“Gave him the wrong note one time for a prescription instead of a love letter. Ended with him giving me constipation medicine,” she groaned before slamming her head into her palms, as if the horrifying memory was fresh.

“I’m sure… he thought it was… amusing?” Chat Noir found himself answering robotically now. Coincidences happened, right? Surely they did. Surely they had to. 

Such an innocent conversation couldn’t be changing the trajectory of Chat Noir’s life as he knew it. Surely not.

“Didn’t want to be apart from him on a trip abroad one time, convinced his dad to let him come,” she continued before pausing. “In hindsight, this one’s a little bit more positive press for me. But it’s still so embarrassing! I barely knew the guy!”

Chat Noir felt every nerve, from his toes to neck, sting his body in a surreal sensation. Such an ordinary conversation, such a quiet night couldn’t be the one to change his life and yet, Chat knew this was how life was as a whole. Things could change so quickly, in a routine moment, and nothing would be the same again. That was how he’d become Chat Noir, how he’d fallen in love with Ladybug, how he’d met Marinette.

Now, it would be how he solved an identity crisis.

“What? No positive reinforcement for that one?” 

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to force out an answer this time. The great Ladybug, the one who leaped off buildings every day, put herself in harm’s way at any cost, protected the historic city of Paris… Chat had imagined being loved by a girl like this would be the bravest kind of love out there. 

When he was alone, and miserable, he would try to think about how Ladybug might love Chat Noir, and consequently Adrien. The image he would conjure would be of a soft, caring yet stern and attentive girl, one who wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place but fight for every chance to keep the two of them together. 

How had he been so foolish to forget that if two parts of himself existed in Paris, two parts of Ladybug existed too? Ladybug could be shy too, she could be unconfident and unsure of herself, she could be pessimistic and clumsy. She could love naively, and not the perfect way he’d imagined she would love someone.

She could love like Marinette.

“Have I scared you?!” Ladybug’s shrill voice captured Chat’s attention again. Her expression was one of distress. “I’ve overshared, haven’t I? Now, you think I’m strange and a stalker and nothing like you imagined me to be-”

“No,” he interjected immediately. “I don’t think any of these things about you at all.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to lie, I can understand if you do. I know the guy I like probably does.”

Chat felt a new kind of a smile tugging at his cheeks. It was a miracle how he hadn’t fallen off the height they were sitting at from all the revelations he was having in his head. Instead, he just felt giddy, knowing everything he did now. “He thinks you’re charming and sweet… you go out of your way for him, even though he can’t imagine deserving that from you. Even the stumbling and tripping only shows how sincere you are. You’re a good person to be loved by Ladybug in every way… even in the way that isn’t what some might think Ladybug-like.”

Ladybug looked at him strangely. “I feel like we are suddenly having two very different conversations right now.”

That didn’t wipe the smile off Chat’s face. He couldn’t quite believe his luck. There were two parts of himself that existed out there, and two parts of her that existed out there, and all of them had still found each other. Ladybug had still found herself enamored by some part of who he was, and him some part of her.

He swallowed. Truth be told, he had found himself enamored by all parts of her. Before his feelings grew for Ladybug, the moments of tenderness he felt around Marinette seemed like a threat to his self-sworn loyalty. Now that he was here, he could finally admit it. This was a person that he loved completely.

There was no person in existence who Chat thought he would ever know completely, apart from himself. Not even Plagg, who he spent hours with, or his father, who he was in this world because of. But his belief was wrong, and there was someone in his world that crossed paths with him in every way. There was someone he found himself enchanted by in every way.

Ladybug feigned a cough. “Anyway,” she said, “we are going to pretend that I didn’t reveal all that.”

“Sure,” Chat nodded. Definitely not , he thought.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He’d been trying to disguise all that had been happening in his head at the last minute, hiding his excitement and joy at realizing what he did. But despite his best efforts, he was sure Ladybug knew him well enough to tell.

“What are you smiling about, kitty?” she said sharply.

“Nothing at all. Good weather, no crime, it’s great.”

She sighed. “You find it funny, don’t you? That what I’m describing sounds like a whole other person?”

“No. That’s just how our lives work, don’t they? Identity crisis and all, Ladybug and Chat Noir are only parts of who we are,” Chat smiled. “I still think you’re great though. That whole other person you’re describing.”

Ladybug looked at him incredulously before shaking the expression off. She cocked a brow. “So, what are you like?”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me what I’m like when I like somebody. What are you like?”

“I tell you I love you everyday.”

She shook her head. “I mean, without the mask.”

He blinked. “It’s still you I like without the mask.”

There seemed to be a small smile playing on Ladybug’s lips at that. “What would Chat Noir be like around me if he wasn’t wearing the mask?” she said. “Just as confident?”

Chat thought about it for a while. He had a sense of confidence and freedom under the mask, all of which allowed him to be so direct to Ladybug. But as Adrien Agreste?

He barely thought himself to be good enough for her as Marinette. 

“No,” he answered honestly. “I’m daydreaming and thinking about how great you are all day. I’m telling all my friends how good of a person you are and trying to get closer, but never really being brave enough to take any step further. Nothing like you, going out of your way to confess.”

“Why would you do that?” she frowned.

“This is the best part of me,” he gestured. “Existing as Chat Noir is my best selling point. But you… you’re so special without Ladybug too.” His eyes softened as he looked at her, so beautiful in this sight. How could someone like her just… exist?

“That’s not true at all. I told you, I’m a mess on the other side. No one would think to compare me to the great Ladybug,” she said. “And I refuse to believe Chat Noir is the best part of you. I think all parts of you must be good, if you’re like this with a mask on.”

Chat blinked. “That crush of yours,” he said, feeling his hands suddenly clammy. “Do you think he’s that good?”

“What’s he got to do with this?” she laughed. “But just since you asked, yes. He is great.”

“What’s so good about him?”

She shrugged, suddenly confused. “He just is… he really tries to be. I’ve seen it so I’m sure,” she said, staring out with a determined look. “It’s just like you said about that girl you knew, how she’s so selfless that she’d be Ladybug if she had to. The boy I know, he worries and he cares so much that he’d be Chat Noir if he had to. He’d want to do better by this city, just as you do.”

Oh, Marinette . Chat felt like he could cry at her words. It was the biggest feat of his life, existing at these two vastly different people. It was a maze of adversity, navigating being his civilian self who was so loved and being Chat Noir, his purest, best self. 

Did Marinette really believe under her mask that he as Adrien matched up to Chat Noir? 

“If you think I’m all that great despite what I said about who I am when I’m not Ladybug, then you should believe the same about yourself,” Ladybug said. “You’re good, Chat Noir.”

His chest felt like it could burst with love. He had never felt more in love than he did now, existing as both Adrien and Chat Noir in the quiet.

He grinned. “Good enough for Ladybug to want to go through my trash?”

She groaned. “You ruined the moment. I absolutely regret sharing that with you, by the way and now, I want to leave,” she said, pushing herself off the ledge.

“I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things too,” he said instantly and reached for her wrist. “I stayed up a few nights to learn how to bead things together so I could make a gift for this girl I liked.”

Ladybug frowned, stilling her movement and turning slowly. “Is this that girl from your class?! You said you didn’t like her!”

“I would say I didn’t like her to every person who asked, and then try anything to talk to her,” he said. “I would spend classes arguing about how great Ladybug is, and talking about how she was my favorite person in Paris to anyone who would listen. And then, in front of everyone, I told this girl that she was just like her.”

The look of jealousy, as Chat so hopefully identified it to be, dissipated slowly from Ladybug’s face. He watched her expression transform into one of disbelief, as if she were hearing something that sounded like a familiar song from her past, though she wasn’t quite sure the melody was all the same. He imagined this is how he’d looked only a few minutes ago.

“Gave up my spot on a gaming contest because she wanted it. Told everyone it was because I didn’t really want to play anyway, but it was mostly because it was her who wanted it,” he continued, gleefully enjoying the display of shock on Ladybug’s face. “Called her specifically to fix a costume for me on a shoot, even though I had a team of designers ready. Changed plans to be inconvenient for everyone just to stop by a bakery for the off-chance to see her.”

Chat had given up being ambiguous now. He would admit, there was a kind of joy to be talking to Marinette about himself as Adrien, while they sat atop Paris as the two most important people in suits. The magic of a quiet night had brought all four people to exist as one here.

“What are you… oh my God,” Ladybug fell back to sit, her body resembling jelly as she lost control. Her eyes, wider than usual, blinked in a staggering pattern and she mumbled to herself.

“I’ve done a lot of stupid things too,” he ended. “So you’re not so alone.”

Ladybug gazed at Chat in bewilderment. Her fingers reached out ever so slightly to attempt to graze his arm. At the last second, it retreated and pinched her own skin instead.

“Adrien?” she said in a breath.

Chat grinned. He’d never liked the sound of his name more. 

“Funny meeting you here, Marinette,” he laughed. It was a new feeling to address Ladybug with that. 

Ladybug remained frozen. “This is not happening,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m asleep. I’m dreaming. This is an akumatized villain-”

“I am very much real, and not akumatized. Have some better faith in me, my lady-”

“Have you been stalking me?!” she shrieked suddenly, looking at Chat skeptically. “Did you follow me to my room, see me transform… see my Adrien posters…” she trailed off, as if another world-ending thought came to her. 

“You have posters of me?”

She gave a mean look. “Of Adrien. Not you!”

Chat chuckled uncomfortably, rubbing his nape. “That’s me… off-duty. Identity crisis, am I right?” he laughed. 

Ladybug looked unconvinced. “You are not Adrien!”

“I am!”

Ladybug’s hand frantically pointed to a sight in the distance. “That’s Adrien!” she cried out at a perfume billboard. It was so small from where he was looking that Chat had no choice but to accept that she had memorized where that billboard was from anywhere in the city. 

Chat wasn’t sure what to reply. He waited till Ladybug’s maniacal reaction had calmed down till he spoke again.

“I’m serious. I’m Adrien Agreste.”

A beat of silence passed between the two. Ladybug just stared at Chat.

Then she just burst out laughing. In a calmer tone, she said, “come on kitty, lying to get me to like you back is low for you.”

“No, I’m serious. I’m Adrien!” he crossed his arms defensively. He frowned at the amused smile on Ladybug’s face.

“If you really are Adrien, then all those stories should’ve rung a bell for you-”

“You talked to my father to let me go to New York with you, came to my house in disguise when that party happened, which, by the way, I had no part of organizing, and asked me to get you medicine from London. I didn’t know about the trash, and I still have the lucky charm. I am Adrien,” he said. “And you are Marinette.”

Ladybug blinked. “And we’re… Ladybug and Chat Noir?” 

“Looks like it,” he said with a smile.

“There were a million people you could’ve been and you’re… Adrien?” she said slowly. 

“You’re not disappointed… are you?” Chat’s lip trembled for a split-second. He worried he read the signs all wrong until he saw Ladybug look up, beaming with a warmth he’d never seen.

“Disappointed?” she laughed. “No. Not at all.”

Relief flooded him. “Good,” he said, smiling at her happiness. “Just so it wasn’t clear, you’re the classmate who Adrien can’t stop being enamored by.”

She shut her eyes tight, cringing. “Chat Noir’s the person Marinette’s made a fool of myself in front of. That’ll take me a while to understand.”

Chat Noir grinned before reaching for her hand. “I thought I was living as two different people, but I’ve gone ahead and fallen in love with the same person as both of them. Even in both lives, I found myself with you.”

Ladybug gave a small smile. “Solve any identity crisis for you?” 

Chat Noir laughed. “Definitely explains a lot,” he said. “But even if it didn’t, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“Why’s that?” Ladybug answered. Their fingertips were touching now, a small touch so shy that it was easy to pretend it wasn’t even happening. It wasn’t insignificant at all though. Right now, Chat Noir was touching not just Ladybug, but Marinette - his partner, his classmate, and the only person who understood what it meant to be so many people at once.

“Well, we have a whole lot of nights ahead of us to figure them out together,” he said with a smile. The rest of the night continued like this, with jokes and loud laughter about the strange coincidences of them, awkward moments of trying to hide identities from each other and everyone else, revealing embarrassing things they did for one another.

To any Parisian that night who would look up at the sky, they might be a lucky onlooker to the two celebrities of the city sitting atop a rooftop. But the truth would only be between the two figures up on the roof, who knew that on a quiet night like this existed something much more than Ladybug and Chat Noir.

[whoblewboobear]

This is more of a general headcanon for fantasy high sorcery than a Jace one, but I did notice that we don’t get any names for subclasses when it comes to sorcerers unlike with other classes.

I think it would be funny to go with the kind of arty vibe sorcerers have (Jace is compared to an art teacher atleast once in canon) they don’t want to be ‘labelled’ and ‘stuck in a box’ when it comes to their magic. This also manages to generally piss wizards off who are all about rules and research and making discovery and love to name and give titles to everything. Xx

Oooooo!! You’re right! I always thought it was a little strange that it was never indicated in the show. But it also gave us a lot of room to play when a sorcerer popped up in FH. I don’t rmr too much about if people tried to figure out what Penelope’s subclass was during freshman year as I came into the fandom a bit after the entire season had wrapped: BUT something I’ve really loved about junior year/post Junior year has been everyone trying to figure out wtf Jace’s subclass would be, with wild magic being the most popular. Which is so much more a dnd thing in general bc if I rmr correctly it’s one of two subclasses listed in the players handbook so people gravitate to wild magic bc it sounds wild. Everything else is in a different guidebook or 3rd party stuff.

So I’d fully understand if Brennan was like :/ ‘dunno if I wanna have every sorcerer surging or half dragon in this universe..’ But also would it be crazy to say that sorcerers are low on the list of classes Brennan cares about so he doesn’t write much into it?

But holy shit, I love the artsy vibes of them and I love you pointing out that they’re very go with the flow people due to having innate magic it’s so~~~ it’s major art school vibes and all the different flavors of artsy people that could go hand in hand with their magic and how they cast! Also Jace being described as like- an art teacher is so 💖 Like yeah, I’ve had many an art teacher and so many of them had Jace energy~ Hacky sack in the quad and hey we’re just in here hanging out bc artistic talent is ‘innate.’

Fully the vibe of my portfolio class to show up, do your thing and hang out. Sorcerers = Artists. It’s so 🥰 it’s good.

Sorcerers in Spyre I love you. I wish there were more of you. I wish magic was real, but maybe the closest we can get to it is creating art

[lilypixels]

I’ve been doing thinking on all this (which maybe I shouldn’t lol) and I’m gonna say some things that hopefully don’t get skewed somehow or anything....maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all but again just speaking thoughts 

putting under a read more cause idk how long this'll get and I'm sure everyone's tired of this already 

ok so I've never totally been against early access, let me preface by saying this. In fact, I can understand people trying to just make some money due to varying circumstances; I’m sure many of us could use more money honestly. I think early access and just simple donations are almost the same too (with one having a little more incentive sure but at the end of day, the content is still got?) so I can’t quite wrap my head around why it seems to be such a big deal to get rid of and switch to donation only

also, again I can understand wanting to earn some extra money for things you do or put time into, but I also think it’s a bit ummm strange? funny? to make creating content for a game your “job”. This game could literally be gone at a moments notice, and you thought the smart business plan was to base your livelihood on it?? idk maybe not the smartest move, especially if that's all you do

Further still, making a hobby based community built around pixels profitable...what kind of capitalist bs honestly. we’re all supposed to just be here to have fun and share what happens to our silly pixels, to show off our pixel dolls, it was never meant to be monetized y’know?? While I may not be “active” in some other gaming communities, what I do know is I’ve never seen this same thing happen in them and to such extent. I use mods for skyrim, fallout, and dai and never once have I seen someone make people to pay for them. nexusmods has a wholeeeee host of mods for many games: all free. And those modders can do a whole heck of a lot more than some do here for sims (not discounting sims creators and their work but like skyrim for example has mods like falskaar and beyond skyrim bruma that add literal new worlds populated with new characters and quest and its all, you guessed it, free) so idk why the sims community is the one that can’t seem to do the same. is it because it’s easier to mod? accessible to more people? maybe its due to the foundations its built upon with EA itself and a lackluster game? who knows, but the fact remains that it seems to be a problem only here....which is funny too cause I thought we were supposed to be the more community based one, the one that's supposed to be one of the biggest on tumblr, the one that supports each other and enjoy dressing up our pixel dolls....sad to see that this continues to not be the case, but maybe we can get that sense of community back yet

and no, I'm not saying that one era of simblr was necessarily better than the other, there has always been problems. there has, however, been a huge surge lately in people flocking here just to make money off creations for this game, or heck conversions they don't even own. does anyone actually enjoy playing anymore? is everyone here just to profit? do some of these creators actually play at all?? I'm inclined to think not

as I wrap this post up, I think back to who I've subbed to on patreon: a whole four creators in my time. most all were cause they offered exclusives, but no doubt I loved their content, otherwise I'd have no reason to pay. I’m only currently subbed to one though (1 I didn't really use content of anymore, 1 never sent me anything so rip, the other upped prices and I couldn't justify the costs as a student). honestly, I really love this one persons creations and wouldn't mind donating if they switched to it; I was already paying money in the first place for it. sure, maybe I wouldn't pay every month, but I could do it every other month maybe. and yet, here I am having to wonder whether they will stay at all, even though they could very well keep making some money if they did.

[firehouseonechicago]

Five Times He Almost Kissed You, The One Time He Did || Kelly Severide

Author’s Note: Kelly was super fun to write for. I had one hundred scenarios in my head that I struggled to choose from, but I eventually had to choose one and so here we are. I hope you enjoy, next up is Herrmann. Gif by @baharsahins​

One...

You had only been with Squad 3 for only a few months, and during that time, Kelly had never seen you panic. The two of you might had gotten off on the wrong foot when the two of you first met, but he couldn’t help but admire the way you always kept a level-head during calls, even the very, very stressful ones. You were practically a becon of calming energy, and Kelly couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at the fact that the rest of the squad relied on you to keep them calm and not their own Lieutenant.

But as the two of you became trapped in an apartment complex basement, with a broken water main slowly filling up the incredibly small and cramped space, Kelly watched you break. You pressed yourself as close to the wall as possible, cowering away from the water as it now reached your knees. You were panting frantically, your eyes darting every which way in search of a way out. Kelly called out to you, as you stared down at the water completely petrified. Kelly waded through the water towards you, the water now reaching his waist, and placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him.

“Y/n, look at me!” He shouted, trying to be heard over the rushing water from above. When your eyes met his own, Kelly almost had to do a double take. Your eyes were bloodshot, laden with tears as you descended into a state of pure fear. Kelly tightened his hold on your shoulders “Y/n, focus on me okay? Don’t look at the water, look at me...” He insturcted, as your eyes glazed over with a look of bewilderment “Tell me something that no one else knows about you, something you’ve never told anyone”. He watched as your breathing somewhat steadied, your eyes becoming clearer as you swallowed thickly “I’m scared of drowning”. For a moment, Kelly was confused by your answer before you continued “When I was little my parents owned a lakehouse just a few hours away from the city. I fell in off the wharf and almost drowned, I’ve been terrified of water ever since”.

In that moment, a strange feeling to kiss you surged through Kelly. It was just an idea, to take your mind off of what was happening around you. It was nothing more than that. He didn’t want to see you like this, so scared, and so unlike your usual and bright self. The water had now risen to just below your shoulders, just as the collapsed ceiling above was removed to reveal the concerned faces of Boden, Casey, Herrmann and Mouch. Kelly smiled, turning his gaze back to your form as a relieved sob escaped you. After the two of you had been helped out of the basement, you enveloped Kelly in a tight embrace, whispering a shaky ‘thank you’ over and over again. And he held onto you, assuring you that you were safe.

Two...

Molly’s was very busy that night, and so Kelly kept to himself in one of the booths in the very corner of the room.

There were a lot of faces he didn’t recognise, but there was one that he couldn’t take his eyes off. You stood at the bar, a bright smile on your face as you spoke with Herrmann. Your eyes sparkled, he’d never seen you smile like that before. You just looked so happy. He must have been staring, because he hadn’t noticed that you had suddenly moved into the seat across from him. “Hey, you look a little spaced out. You okay?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to the side in wait for his answer.

Shaking himself from his stupor, Kelly nodded slowly “Yeah I’m good, it’s just been a bit of a rough day that’s all” He replied, his gaze flickering between the half empty beer bottle in his grasp and your form before him. You nodded in agreement, releasing a small hum as you gave him a grin “Tell me about it, the last call wasn’t exactly easy. Especially since we had a run-in with one of the guys we rescued”

Kelly laughed, shaking his head at the memory. There was no explaination as to why he had gotten violent, but he had shoved you quite harshly and pinned you against the side of Truck 81. If Kelly hadn’t stepped in, and hauled that guy away from you with much greater force, the situation would have likely become more complicated. “I wanted to thank you, for what you did today. And I also wanted to say thank you for...for not telling anyone about what happened in that basement a few weeks ago” You whispered shyly, biting your lip somewhat anxiously in embarrassment. Kelly grinned in response, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. After that incident, you and Kelly had gotten closer. He began to confide in you, and talk to you more often. “It’s not my place to tell anybody...” He replied, leaning forward in his seat “but you do have to overcome that fear. If you want to stay on squad you have to-”

“I know, I’m working on it okay? I just...I just can’t...” You trailed off, sighing heavily as your shoulders slumped, your eyes glazing over as memories of the rising water no doubt consumed your mind. That strange feeling surged through him again, that same feeling that made him want to kiss you. He didn’t want to see you like this, completely distant and slightly trembling. It was so unlike you, so far from your usual happy self. And so Kelly leaned over across the table, and gently placed his hand atop yours “How about I help you out, I won’t tell another living soul that you are afraid of water, and I will do whatever I can to help you overcome that fear”.

The smile that appeared on your face caused Kelly’s heart to soar. Your eyes regained their sparkle, and the small laugh that escaped your lips made him feel all the more happier.

Three...

“I’ll have to pass”

“Oh come on Y/n...” Gabby whined, slumping down against the table with a loud groan “just go on one date with this guy please? He seems really into you and I think the two of you would be perfect for each other”. You shook your head, grimacing slightly as you shook your head in response. “I’m really sorry Gabby, but this guy has already sent me a hundred messages which are entirely inappropriate and I just don’t think I should go out with this guy. I know you’re trying to set me up with someone but I just...”

Kelly had tried to stop listening to your conversation hours ago, but he just couldn’t help eavesdropping. He had heard from certain people around the firehouse that Gabby was trying to get you to go on a date with a doctor she had briefly met on one of her trips to the hospital on a call. She had been trying for weeks to get you to go out with him, and every time you had refused. Just the thought of you going out with someone else other than him made Kelly feel incredibly jealous. It was no secret to a few people in the firehouse that Kelly had somehow developed feelings for you, they had suspected a short time after the two of you had been trapped in that flooded basement.

He watched on in silent anger as you once again rejected Gabby’s offer to date some guy she met at Molly’s. What he really wanted to do was to kiss you passionately and to kindly but politely shut Dawson up. You were the only person who seemed to understand him, who was always there for him no matter what tough situation was thrown his way. And so probably against his better judgement, Kelly stood up from his seat and awkwardly approached your table. He stopped short as your eyes quickly moved toward him, a kind smile forming on your face. “Kelly, thank god. How can I help you?” You asked in a slightly exasperated tone, though the joking demenour behind it shone through. His chest suddenly felt tight as a million thoughts raced through his mind. What if you said no? What would he do then? He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as he spoke.

“I uh...I was wondering if you would like to um...maybe grab a drink at Molly’s sometime. With me, I was wondering if you would go with me to Molly’s for a-”

“Sure, I’d love to”

Kelly froze, his eyes widening in shock. It took him a moment to comprehend your response, but as soon as he realized that you had said yes, he suddenly felt ecstatic. He nodded excitedly in response, grinning childishly before walking away with a slight skip in his step. His happy demenour made you smile, whilst Gabby just gawked between you and Kelly’s retreating form as she tried to piece together what had just occured.

Four...

“I’m not getting in that pool”

“Why not, the water is lovely. And besides, you promised that you would work on getting over your fear of water”.

You knew that this was a bad idea, you weren’t even sure why you agreed to meet Kelly here in the first place. You hugged your arms close to your frame nervously as you watched Kelly wade through the water, your entire body trembling at the thought of submerging yourself completely beneath the water. Kelly approached the edge of the pool, looking up at you with his signature cheeky yet charming grin. “Come on, just hop in. I’ll be with you every step of the way” He spoke calmly, extending his hand out towards you in sincerity. Stubbournly, you shook your head and backed away from the pool’s edge “No, no way. I’m not getting in there-”

“Y/n if you don’t get over here I will get out and carry you in if I have to” Kelly stated blatantly, half hauling himself out of the pool with a raised eyebrow in emphasis to his words. You glared toward him “Is that a challenge, Severide?”

“That’s a promise, sweetheart”.

The way his voice darkened caused your cheeks to flush a bright pink, but knowing that Kelly would stay true to his word, you reluctantly shuffled over to the edge of the pool and sat down. Kelly grinned triumphantly, submerging himself under the water before resurfacing with a flick of his hair. You rolled your eyes as Kelly chuckled, wading through the water towards you before taking your hands in his own. “I hate you so much” You grumbled, trying so very hard to stop your hands from trembling. Huffing a laugh, Kelly tightened his grip around your hands comfortingly “No you don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to go out on that date with me tomorrow night”.

After easing yourself into the water, you practically clung to the man before you as Kelly lead you through the water. Kelly took note of your close proximity, and suddenly found himself becoming increasingly nervous. Your face was just inches away from his own, the temptation to kiss you was becoming way too overwhelming. Yet he composed himself, and focused on the task at hand. It would take some time for you to get over your fear of water, but Kelly was willing to do whatever it took to help you. You were apart of his squad, not to mention the fact that he was deeply in love with you.

Five...

Kelly bounced his leg anxiously as he sat at the bar at Molly’s.

You were due to arrive for your date any second now, and for some unknown reason, Kelly Severide was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He had never felt this nervous before, not even on call. He really wanted this date to go well.

“Would you calm down already?” Herrmann mused from behind the bar, staring at the man before him with a bewildered expression “I’m sure everything is going to be fine, you just need to take a breath, alright”. Kelly turned to face Herrmann with a long and heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned forward against the bar. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous”.

“A little is an understatement my friend...” Herrmann teased, laughing mockingly just as the door to Molly’s opened. Kelly turned, half expecting to see Otis turn up for his shift behind the bar. But he was completely blown away at the sight of you. You wore a short black dress covered in a small red rose pattern, with a black leather jacket over your shoulders. Your hair was swept over your shoulder lazily, unlike at the firehouse when it had been thrown up into a messy ponytail. A cute messy ponytail. When your eyes met his from across the room, you smiled brightly and gave him a small wave as you approached. This was it, this was really happening. God, Kelly didn’t know what to do. You looked so beautiful, the breath was completely knocked out of him.

As you sat down on the seat beside him at the bar, the feeling of wanting to kiss you resurfaced. He was so unbelievably happy that you had agreed to this date, so unbelievably happy that you-

“Hello? Earth to Kelly Severide?” You suddenly interrupted, a teasing tone to your voice as you chuckled at the man before you. Brought back from his stupor, Kelly’s eyes remained frozen on your form. “You look gorgeous” he suddenly blurted, noting the bright redness that spontaniously covered your cheeks. You waved him off dismissively, ordering a light drink from Herrmann as you continued to talk to Kelly. The night was filled with flirtatious banter and the occasional longing glances. It was obvious to anyone that watched that there was obvious chemistry between the two of you, but neither of you cared if people were watching. You were both having fun, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

The one time he did...

“Do you think Shay would mind if I stayed the night? I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink” You mumbled somewhat sheepishly, as you trudged over from the kitchen into the living room where Kelly sat on the couch.

He chuckled, patting the cushion beside him for you to sit down. “Shay is staying over at some girl’s house tonight, so you can stay here as long as you want” He replied, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You hummed in content, snuggling further into him with a small giggle. “Okay good, I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway”.

“Then why ask?” Kelly scoffed, smiling down at you with an amused smile. You rolled your eyes lazily, looking up at him with a cheeky grin “Well I’ve been over enough times, and I haven’t spent the night here yet, so I thought maybe-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Kelly dipped down and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was gentle and passionate. Soft even, almost as if he was testing the waters a little. But as soon as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, that was all Kelly needed as a sign to continue. Moving you into a more comfortable position, Kelly hovered above you as he intensified the kiss, before quickly pulling away from you with a teasing smirk. “What do you say we take this upstairs?” He asled quietly, gesturing with his eyes to the ceiling and his bedroom above. You mimicked his expression, somehow managing to slip out from beneath him with an excited laugh. “Gladly!” You called out, before racing up the staircase ahead of him, and leaving Kelly to chase after you with a loud amused laugh.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

[damn-stark]

Lightning

Thor Odinson x Odinsdottir!reader, Loki Laufeyson x Odinsdottir!reader (platonic)

Summary: After the death of your brother Loki, and Frigga, things in Asgard change drastically, just like your father. Where he was once cold and distant before, now he’s caring and attentive. And you didn’t mind his change, in fact you loved that he had this new time for you, yet when you find out the truth behind his actions, how will you react?

Warning- Fluff, slight angst

———-

“This is stupid.” You groan as you kick the mirror back and fall back in your seat.

“What did that poor mirror do to you?”

At the sound of your fathers voice you throw your head up and turn to see him standing by your doorway. It was a surprise for sure, but you knew how to react by his sudden appearance.

You stand up and straighten out your shoulders, offering him a small smile. “Father.”

Said man walks into your room and picks up your mirror, standing beside it and keeping his attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

“I,” you blink, keeping your gaze on him for a brief second and silently questioning his behavior before sitting back down and refocusing on your appearance. “I can’t do my braid, it’s hard,” you sigh, feeling your smile fall, “without mother here I can’t seem to do it. I also don’t like when the handmaidens touch my hair, and Thor isn’t here to help, and Loki...is gone too. So I can’t do my braid.”

“I can help you.” Your father suddenly offers.

“Are you sure?” You ask unsurely, watching as he made his way behind you. “Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make some time,” he says as he begins to braid your hair, peeking your curiosity even more.

You don’t question it, you find it odd that he’s been so attentive lately, so involved with your days, but again, you don’t want to question it. You actually like receiving his attention. It was a good change.

“Father, do you know when Thor will be returning?”

Through his reflection from the mirror in front of you, you see him shrug and briefly lift his gaze to look at you before focusing back on your hair. “No, it seems after the dark elves attacked he hardly tells me anything. Why bored of me already?”

You narrow your gaze on his reflection, but you dont think to get too deep into what was going on. “No, it’s just I find myself bored most of the day after school, and well after mother and Loki died he always tried to make time to do something with me.”

“Do you miss Loki?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

“Even after all he did? All the terrible things he’s caused?”

You sigh and look down at your hands and create sparks of lightning between your fingers. “Loki was always nice to me, he never did the things to me that he did to, Thor. Plus, mother always said never to think of him badly,” you pause and close your fist, feeling your eyes sting with tears whilst going unaware of your “fathers” stunned pause after your comment. “So, yes I miss my brother.”

Your father clears his throat and goes back to finishing your braid in silence, patting your shoulder to signal you that he was done. When you stand up and lift your gaze to examine the braid, you gasp and feel those salty tears you withheld roll down your cheeks.

“What? Did it come out wrong?” Your father queries.

You reach for your braid and gently run your fingers down it, responding in an almost breathless manner. “It’s how Loki would braid my hair.” You turn around to face your father and you offer him a short, sweet smile. “Thank you, father.” You move to your desk and grab your things to go to class, stopping at your doorway and looking over your shoulder. “I’m going to go to class now, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Just as you turn to leave, he stops you. “Wait. Do you want to skip class today and do something else?”

“Uh,” you part your lips, spinning on your heels to face him still in your room. “But you always say learning is the fundamental of being a good princess.” You tilt your head and narrow your gaze on his face, searching it for any sign of trick.

“Well,” he shrugs as he slowly makes his way to you. “Learning magic is the fundamental of becoming a good princess too and then even better when you become queen.”

You scoff and manage an amused grin. “Queen?”

“Why yes, after I die who will rule Asgard?”

“Thor,” you respond.

Your father clasps his hands on his back and falls beside you, shaking his head as he’s quick to correct your answer. “What if I don’t want it to be, Thor? You my sweet si—daughter, will make a perfect fit to be queen, with your powers and knowledge. That’s why learning magic is beneficial.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and turns you around to walk off with you at his side. “What do you know about magic?”

“Not so much,” you shrug, “just a bit of what Loki and Frigga taught me.”

“Don’t you want to learn more?” Your father presses as he guides you out of the golden castle. “Just imagine with your powers and magic combined, you’d be powerful.”

Perhaps you should question his behavior deeper, really just think about what he was proposing—learning magic from your father?

But that part of you that felt your fathers negligence in the past loved the attention he was recently giving you. You desired to be loved by him like he loved Thor. So that’s why you didn’t want to question this strange new behavior.

You smile widely and finally come to an easy agreement. “Okay I want to learn more magic.”

“Good,” your father pats your shoulder, guiding you to the green gardens outside. “First let’s see your power, what’s your highest running record now?”

“Forty-five seconds.”

“Hmm,” your father hums as he parts away and stops you both in your tracks, stepping to the side to stand before you. “Have you tried incorporating your lightning when you run? It'd be like when you travel with your lightning from one place to another; it’s instantaneous and happens in a blink of an eye, right?”

“Right,” you nod whilst you place your books down. “How come I’ve never tried that before?”

“Try it,” your father insists.

With a newborn eagerness to impress your father before you, you summon lightning and do a quick outfit change, feeling a new surge of happiness within you at this moment. Albeit a small hint of doubt sparked in your brain. You began to stretch and didn’t fail to question what irked you. “Father, are you not busy? I just mean, lately all you’ve done is been with...me.”

Your father walks back to stay at a safe distance from you when you run, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging, “well is it a crime spending time with my only daughter.” He finishes with an almost nervous chuckle. “Anyways stop thinking too much about it and break that record so we can get to teaching you magic.”

You stand up straight and nod apprehensively, getting into a running stance and then looking at him one last time to see him point his head in the way you were going to run. That single gesture sets you off to super speed your way through your usual running coarse, but this time unlike the other using lightning like your father suggested and finding that it gave you an incredible boast. Even the way you saw your surroundings was different, before you would only see the same greenery, the great blue water and beautiful green lush forest; now you saw lightning, it was like traveling through the Bifrost.

And regarding your personal running record, it did wonders to it.

Once you returned to your previous spot you saw your father smiling at you for what seemed to be the first time in ages. “Good job, y/n. You got twenty-five seconds off your previous record!”

At first you’re confused on how to take his positive feedback, his appreciation that you just stare at him dumb-struck and in slight awe. It isn’t until much later do you find your right reaction; you beam at him and utter, “thank you, father.”

——

“Oh, brother. This is it. I take my leave.”

“You fool, you didn’t listen!”

Tears fill your eyes and you wipe away the tears that had already rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lady Sif, get help!”

“Somebody help!”

Yeah, you didn’t really agree with that slight part, Lady Sif was a spectacular warrior and deserved more than that part in the play. But nonetheless it was just play.

“I’m sorry for all I’ve done.”

“Shh. It’s all right. Hold on.”

“I’m sorry I tried to rule earth.”

“They’d be lucky to have you.”

“I’m sorry about that thing with the Tesseract. I just couldn’t help myself. I'm a trickster.”

“Yes. So mischievous.”

“I’m sorry about that time I turned you into a frog.”

You yawn and lean back in your seat, grabbing a piece of fruit and throwing it in your mouth as you continue to watch the play, crying one last time when fake Thor cries out, after that you grew bored and watched as the play ended. Once it was you jumped to your feet to attempt to leave, but then at your side you saw the real Thor.

When he noticed that you saw him, he smiled and waved and you followed by speeding towards him, instantly getting welcomed by a hug. “Hello, sister.”

“Thor! You’re finally back!” You beamed up at him.

“Yes, for a more permanent stay this time.” He informed you as you parted away, drifting his gaze to your father now. “Father.”

“Uh, my son, Thor, has returned!” Your father announced, “greetings my boy.”

The crowd around clapped and Thor seemed to be unamused by this whole ordeal. “This is an interesting play, what's it called?”

“The tragedy of Loki of Asgard. The people wanted to commemorate him.”

That’s very doubtful, considering what he did.

“Ah, indeed they should. I like the statue. A lot better looking then he was when he was alive, though. A little less weaselly, less greasy, maybe.” Thor continued making your father laugh nervously and made you just look at him amused and confused. “Do you know what this is?” Thor asked as he lifted the huge Skull in his hand.

“The skull of Surtur. That’s a formidable weapon!”

Thor proceeds to hand the skull to a guard, “do me a favor. Lock this away in a vault so it doesn’t turn into a giant monster and destroy the whole planet.” Thor walks forward and gestures you to follow him.

“Thank you, dear. Um, so it’s back to Midgard for you, is it?” Your father questioned Thor, gaining your full unwavered attention even if he had answered that to you already.

“Nope.” Thor answered as he threw his hammer up and then caught it with ease. “You know I’ve been having this reoccurring dream lately. Every night, I see Asgard fall into ruins.”

“That’s just a silly dream,” your father turned Thor down, “signs of an overactive imagination.”

“Possibly.” Thor quipped, “but then I decided to go out there and investigate. And what do I find, but the nine Realms completely in chaos.” Thor repeats his previous action with his hammer and gets closer to your father. “Enemies of Asgard assembling, plotting our demise all while you, Odin, the protector of those Nine Realms are sitting here in your bathrobe, eating grapes.”

When you look at your father you notice that he appears quite nervous, it was strange, very strange, but considersing that Thor wasn’t amused and appeared threatening, you stayed silent.

“Yes, it is best to respect our neighbors’ freedom.”

“Yes, of course the freedom to be massacred.” Thor throws his hammer forward, frightening the crowd and puzzling you even more.

“Yes,” your father tries to excuse himself and his negligence, “besides I’ve been rather busy myself.”

“Watching theater.” Thor remarks.

“Well, raising a teenage daughter, board meetings and security council meetings.”

“You’re really going to make me do it?” Thor quips, receiving just a simple question from your father before Thor throws his hammer far and walks behind your father, to threaten him. “You know nothing will stop Mjolnir, as it returns to my hand. Not even your face.”

“Thor!” You call frighteningly, receiving a quick smug answer.

“Watch this, sister.”

“You’ve gone quite mad. Y/N, stop him. You’ll be executed for this.”

“Then I’ll see you on the other side, brother.”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in your spot, keeping your gaze stuck on the pair beside you and gasping as your father transforms into Loki.

“But,” you try to question through your confusion, “but…” you pause and Loki turns to you, trying to approach you as you stay frozen and in disbelief with tears filling your eyes. “You...lied.”

“Y/N, I can explain.”

[headcanonthings]

WinterHawk Fic Rec List

Disclaimer: None of these authors have requested to be on this list. These are all stories that I’ve read and enjoyed. Keep in mind that your taste might not match up to mine and that’s ok! Just because I’ve included it doesn’t mean you have to read it (I won’t be offended if you skip over this whole list). If you do check out a story and like it, please remember to leave kudos and/or a comment ❤

P.S. Always check out the story’s tags so you don’t get surprised by something.

Gen Fics - These stories highlight the friendship between Clint and Bucky so may feature them included in other ships i.e. Clint/Natasha or Steve/Bucky

Clint Barton’s Guide to Friends and Ceiling Vents by NoliteTimereEos (Rated T; Word Count 6,488; Features Clint/Natasha) In which Clint Barton meets a missing assassin in the vents and somehow becomes friends with him. Things don't go as bad as they could have. 

Clint and Bucky: Lost and Found by twangcat (Rated G; Word Count 2, 075; Features Steve/Bucky and Clint/Coulson)  The first time Bucky sees Clint limp into the Avengers tower pretending his ribs aren’t bruised while brushing his wild blond hair out of his eyes, Bucky smiles. When Clint immediately starts railing at Tony for blasting the guy Clint was fighting because, “I didn’t need rescuing Tony, I had him!” Bucky does a double take. 

  Learning to Say Hello by heartdesire456 (Rated M; Word Count 11,229; Features Steve/Bucky and Clint/Coulson) Clint had woken up one morning about three weeks ago (Well, Clint guessed about three. Definitely more than one. Maybe.) and stumbled down to the living room only to realize there was a guy on his couch. The guy just happened to be the Winter Soldier, who Clint knew was actually Steve’s old best friend, Bucky Barnes. Barnes had been having a staring contest with Lucky (one eye shut, to make it fair, Clint had noticed) and Clint had decided to just leave him to it and make decisions after he’d had some coffee. (In which Hawkeye befriends the Winter Soldier and discovers the Epic Love Story of Steve and Bucky nobody knows about)  Shooting Stuff Is Better With Company by WriteThroughTheNight ( Rated T; Word Count 11,636; Features Clint/Coulson and Steve/Bucky) "Natasha tells him that HYDRA is inside SHIELD (which Clint can hardly believe), and that the Winter Soldier is on the playing field. She says the latter with fear and awe, but Clint smiles, small and real, for the first time since New York." OR Clint and Bucky have been friends for years and it's to the archer that he runs after the events of DC.

WinterHawk Fics - Stories where Clint/Bucky are the main couple 

I’ll Keep you Safe Here With Me by sara_holmes (Rated M; Word Count 110,566) Yes, Clint is avoiding the other Avengers. No, he does not want to go back to New York. But then again, he didn't exactly want to be kidnapped by the Winter Soldier either. Really, he just wants to go back to bed.

(Side note: Pretty sure this is the fic that got me into WinterHawk)

Clint Barton’s Super Secret Sniper’s Club by sara_holmes (Rated T; Word Count 67,057; Other ship include Tony/Steve) Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.) "When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center." Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself.

(Side note: would recommend pretty much any WinterHawk fic by this author)

Left Foot Forward by shatteredhourglass  (Rated M; Word Count 22,307; Other ships include Pepper/Tony and Bruce/Natasha) There was an unspoken rule among the Avengers that they didn't talk about Clint's soulmark. They didn't talk about it, they didn't look at it, and they didn't bring it up. 

Falling Off the Face of the Earth by Teeelsie (Rated E; Word Count 77,500) Cap relaxes his hold, but he stays where he is, still looming over him. “Clint. The compound’s been breached,” Rogers whispers urgently, then finally sits back and lets go of him. There’s another explosion, closer this time and throwing more light. He turns his head sharply and sees Bucky Barnes hovering near the door, looking… off. Clint pushes Rogers and he finally stands up so Clint can scramble out of the bed and grab some clothes. He’s wearing only boxers because it’s fucking hot in Wakanda, and he catches Barnes’ eyes flicking across his body. Clint long ago stopped being bothered by people’s reactions to the many scars on his body – not that that many people actually see them - but that doesn’t mean he appreciates when they stare. “Like what you see?” he asks with a hard edge as he pulls on his shirt. Barnes turns his head, at least having the decency to look embarrassed for being caught staring. Rogers looks at them both impatiently and quickly switches gears. “Clint, I need you to take Bucky. Get him out of Wakanda and somewhere safe.” OR Bucky and Clint fall into each other. Bad shit happens. Then it all works out in the end.

Lost & Found by mariana_oconnor (Rated M; Word Count 89,972; Other ships include Tony/Steve and Natasha/Sam) Clint Barton’s got a bag full of stolen money and a burning desire to stay under the radar. His old friends in the Carnival will be looking for him and they sure as hell won’t be happy. In a desperate attempt to stay off their radar, he ends up in Timely, a small town so far off the beaten track he’s surprised he even found it, and waits for Barney to comes and get him. Because Barney will be coming. Clint knows he will. But there's something about the town. Maybe it's the strange wolf that watches him from the trees, and the way people finish conversations when he enters a room. Or it could be the bartender, Bucky, who decided to hate him on sight. Something’s going on in this small town, and Clint’s not sure if he’s jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Thank You for Staying with Us by Noxnthea (Rated T; Word Count 14,390) Ex-special ops, millennial motel receptionist Clint Barton is pretty sure that one of his guests is an honest-to-god assassin, but he's also pretty sure he's willing to let that slide because hot damn have you seen the dude's face? Besides, the only guy he's killed was kinda evil, so there's really no reason for Clint to do anything about his realization, right? or: five times Clint looked the other way, and one time he couldn't look away.

Historic Features by flawedamythyst (Rated T; Word Count 19,254; Other ships include Tony/Steve) “Electrical surges with no source, and music coming from the air, and that damn baseball game no one was watching, and I swear I sometimes hear voices right on the edge of hearing when I should be alone,” said Tony. “What does that sound like to you?” “Sounds like-” said Steve, then hesitated. Tony gave him a pointed look. “Sounds like a haunting,” he finished, reluctantly. “Oh no,” said Clint, in tones of mock-horror. “Ghosts!” Bucky laughed and kissed him. “Man, I hope they’re friendly.” Clint and Bucky are haunting the new apartment that Tony bought in Brooklyn to try and impress Steve.

[gtanddragons]

Try Again?

Hey all, finally have some G/t writing to present for the first time in a long while. ^^ Based on this post from @miniature-knight because it’s been living in my head rent-free for a long while now and I’ve been on a D/anganr/onpa kick lately. Also giant!Hajime content is VERY good. 

Content warnings: Brief descriptions of blood and surgery, mild swearing, major spoilers for DR2, and minor spoilers for DR3 (Despair Arc)

[ Connecting… ]

[ Connecting… ]

[ Connection to server lost. Try again?]

[ Stabilizer_01: Offline ]

[ Stabilizer_02: Offline ]

[ WARNING: Cellular instability detected ]

[ Vitals_Monitor: Offline ]

[ WA7RNiN6: #%^R01 ]

[ … ]

[ …? ]

—

He wakes up very suddenly, an involuntary cry of pain tearing its way from his throat.

It hurts. Everything hurts. His body aches and protests with every tiny movement he makes, and his brain feels as though it’s threatening to crack right out of his skull. It hurts and his mouth and throat are dry— so dry— and there’s dust everywhere, even coughing hurts, there’s screaming—

…

(…Screaming?)

Hajime finally cracks his eyes open, wincing at how crusty they feel— like he’d been asleep for a long, long time, but… he’s sitting upright, isn’t he? When had he sat up? When had he gone to sleep, for that matter…?

As he begins to reorient himself, so too does his vision. It takes a frustratingly long time, but when everything begins to come back together into a single, clear image—

“H… huh?” He croaks, barely noticing the rasp in his voice in favor of trying to make sense of literally anything before his eyes.

There’s rubble everywhere, surrounding him on all sides and tumbling off of him with every little movement. But more importantly— he can see people running in the distance, far below. All of them are wearing white and black uniforms. It’s familiar… but he’s not quite sure why. 

He’s also not sure why he reaches his hand out. Maybe it’s out of shock, maybe it’s instinct.

But what he doesn’t anticipate is actually touching one of the fleeing bodies, feeling his fingers brush against warmth.

He freezes. The student— the tiny student— is screaming. He didn’t mean to knock them over with that careless little touch but now they’re crying and screaming and—

Hajime’s breaths quicken as he recoils, pulling back his hand as though he’d been burned. He frantically looks at the fleeing students, the rubble, the buildings around him— the buildings that all seem to match him in height.

(They’re not… they’re not small. I-I’m…)

He lifts his arms, wincing as more rubble tumbles off his body and smashes to the ground below. He’s gripping his head in his hands, he can’t breathe, he’s breathing too fast and his vision is blurring and everything hurts and he’s terrified and where is he and—?!

[ …Why are you so upset? ]

Hajime tenses up, lifting his head at the sound of a voice. 

“Wh-what—?”

[ Why are you scared? They cannot hurt you like this. ]

His gaze darts to the ground, but most of the students nearby had already run away, including the one he’d accidentally knocked over. This voice was… close, but not. Familiar, but not. He knows he heard it, but… he felt it, too.

“Who… who’s there? Where are you?”

[ They cannot hurt us when we are like this. ]

In the back of his head, he has the inexplicable feeling of… something foreign. A sense of self-satisfaction, but one that isn’t his own. 

“You’re… in my head…?” Hajime whispers, gripping his shoulders in a desperate hug. “G-get… get out of my head! What are you?!”

A sense of miffed confusion is prodding at his consciousness now. He shifts uncomfortably, wincing at the feeling of invisible fingers poring through his brain.

[ You are not… satisfied? You were crying out for help, so I offered my assistance. ]

Hajime opens his mouth to protest, but images and feelings are suddenly flashing through his mind, not of his own control. 

His body, flailing, gloved hands pinning him down. His throat, hoarse from screaming. Fear. Desperation. Pain, as a needle is forcefully poked into his arm. 

A starched white bed. Restraints. Seeing an operating knife plunging into his body. He doesn’t know if he’s begging out loud or if it’s just in his head.

The voice. It’s there, too, and he can feel it pulsing at the back of his head. It doesn’t come in the form of words, but in the form of an invisible hand, reaching out. Feelings of reassurance. A silent offer.

It’s one he takes. He’s grabbing onto the hand with everything he’s got, like a drowning man.

And then… nothing.

He’s snapped out of those memories as quickly as he’d been submerged in them, the… thing in his head pushing them aside. Like putting files back into a cabinet.

[ We are free now. ]

Hajime doesn’t respond. His head is swimming, distress and confusion crashing over his thoughts like tidal waves. His memory feels… hazy. Incomplete. But he remembers trusting the Hope’s Peak research team… he thinks. It was supposed to be a series of ‘small tests’. When had it escalated that far?

Why is there something else in his head? Why and how did he get like this? He’s surrounded by rubble and a collapsed building— the same one he’d been interviewed in. 

The same one he’d been experimented on in the basement.

He can’t help it. His body is starting to shudder with sobs, confused and aching and distraught. The voice doesn’t pipe up this time, but he can feel its presence lingering, uncertain. 

He covers his face with dirty, dust-covered hands. It’s hardly a comfort.

(What… do I do now? I don’t know, I… am I… stuck like this forever—?)

“Hajimeeee!”

He flinches at the sudden shout, close in range yet… distant. He peeks between trembling fingers, his gaze traveling to the ground—

And then he freezes.

Hazy memories are becoming more and more vivid. Even at this distance, that voice is so familiar— that hoodie, that hair— he’s seen them plenty of times before. Thought about them even more so.

“Ch… Chiaki…?” he croaks, his eyes widening.

Unlike the hundreds of students before her, she was running towards him. She halts only once she’s gotten as close as she can get to his leg, the rest of her path blocked off by debris.

She rests her hands on her knees and leans over— even from this height, Hajime can tell that she’s panting.

“H-Hajime… so this… this is where you’ve been!”

His other thoughts are overshadowed by a surge of relief at her familiar (and very much welcome) presence… and a crushing sense of guilt. Had she been waiting for him this whole time…? How long had it even been since he agreed to participate in the Hope Cultivation Project?

He finds himself reaching out for her, the ache in his heart getting stronger— but then he tenses up, his hand stopping only a few feet away from her small frame.

[ Why are you afraid? She cannot hurt you. ]

(Shut up.)

His thoughts drift to earlier. How he had accidentally knocked over that poor student with a simple nudge of his fingertips. How they had screamed in terror and ran—

His hand reflexively twitches, a slight tremble shivering through his arm.

[ …You’re afraid of hurting her? How peculiar. ]

(Shut. Up.)

However, even though he was frozen with indecision, Chiaki had other plans. 

Hajime inhales sharply as he feels a little pressure against the tip of his finger, startled as he glances back down and sees the girl grabbing onto his finger without a shred of hesitation.

“Hey, Hajime. It’s going to be okay. …I think.”

His lower lip trembles, even as he lets out a weak attempt at a laugh. “That… doesn’t sound very reassuring, when you say it like that, you know.”

“Got you smiling though, right?”

He sniffles, letting out a soft chuckle. “Y-yeah, fine. Guilty.”

[ What is… this feeling we’re experiencing? ]

Hajime’s shoulders tense up at the sudden reminder that he’s not exactly alone in his thoughts. He huffs quietly, shooting a scowl at nothing in particular.

(Didn’t I already tell you to be quiet?)

[ Yes. But I am curious. It feels very… warm. You care a lot for this human, correct? ]

(...Yes. Now shh. Go away. Something.)

[ I cannot ‘go away’, much as I would prefer being my own separate entity, Hajime. ]

(Really.)

[ Perhaps you should have taken into consideration the future ramifications of allowing yourself to be subjected to human experimentation. ]

(I wasn’t signing myself up for that to get an obnoxious backseat driver, you know!)

“...jime? Ah… Earth to Hajime…?”

He pauses in his bristling to look back down at Chiaki, who is looking up at him with a rather concerned look on her face.

“...You’re acting strange.”

Hajime clears his throat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“...S-sorry. It’s just, uh. Been a lot to process, and… uh…”

He trails off as his fingertips trace up the back of his neck. His hair feels… longer than it did, but on a more concerning note… he can feel a raised, bumpy line going from the back of his neck all the way up to the back of his head. Stitches.

Hajime glances down at his hand worriedly as he pulls it away from the back of his neck. Unfortunately, it came back wet with splotches of blood, like he’d suspected. It was no surprise that he’d torn at least a few of them in the… chaos? He’s still not sure what had happened while he’d been unconscious, but judging from the destruction around him… his escape from the facility below the building couldn’t have been very peaceful.

“...It’s been a lot,” he concludes awkwardly.

“I can kinda tell, yeah.” Chiaki pauses, a mournful, distant look entering her gaze. “I was… really worried. That you might not come back.”

He glances away at that. He’d known he’d be leaving Chiaki for a while, but he hadn’t expected… whatever they had tried doing to him.

(And if that process hadn’t been interrupted… would I even have been able to come back to her at all?)

[ Doubtful. As far as I can assess, your memories and consciousness would have been stifled entirely, leaving me a clean slate for a host body. ]

(It was… it was a rhetorical question.)

[ Ah. ]

That being said, Hajime can’t help a heavy gulp and a shiver at the voice’s interruption before he turns to look at Chiaki again.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never-- I never thought it would turn out like this,” he offers weakly. Feeling somewhat emboldened by Chiaki’s continued safety despite being so close to him, he shifts his hand a bit so that he’s delicately ‘holding’ her hands between his forefinger and thumb. 

Chiaki hums softly, smiling faintly at the warmth encompassing her hands all the way up to her mid-forearms. It’s… disconcerting, to say the least-- she’d be lying if her instincts weren’t a bit freaked out at having her arms held like those of a figurine, or a doll-- but when she looks up at his face, she’s smiling even more warmly than before.

“Just don’t do something like that ever again, ‘kay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

She takes a moment just to bask in his presence before her smile returns to a more neutral expression. Then, she pops her lip awkwardly.

“...So I’d really like to know what happened. If and when you’re comfortable sharing, yeah? But, uh. Right now, we might… need to get out of here.”

Hajime’s head perks up at the distant sound of approaching sirens, his eyes shooting open wide.

“Oh no.”

[ Don’t worry. We can take them. ]

“That’s not the--!” Hajime catches himself mid-tirade, instead lifting his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Chiaki, you need to get out of here. I can’t let you get caught up in whatever is going to happen next.”

(That’s not the point. I’m not getting myself into more trouble-- I already have enough of that as is.)

[ ...So you do not wish to be this size, then? Even though it will keep you safe from any number of this city’s local law enforcement, and with my assistance, I believe the national guard as well-- ]

(No, I don’t want to be a giant freak, thank you very much.)

[ Mmm. What a boring answer… but, very well. Focus on settling your breathing-- and try not to panic too much. ]

(Wait, why would I--?)

Hajime sucks in one last breath before he suddenly can’t. He can see himself moving, see himself blinking, but he’s not controlling any of it. He’s formless, drifting endlessly, gasping for air to fill nonexistent lungs.

“A-ah--! Wh-what-- what the fuck did you do to me?!”

He can see his fingers releasing their hold on Chiaki, can see her gasping down below as he-- his body-- moves to stand upright, a shower of rubble clattering to the ground in his wake.

“No! Chiaki--!”

[ Shh. I’ve already calculated the amount of debris and where it’s falling-- none of it will fall anywhere near her. And I am merely borrowing your body for a minute while I resolve this matter. ]

“Borrowing--?! Are you kidding me, this is my body!”

[ You need to settle down. You’re interrupting my focus. ]

“No, I’m not just gonna ‘settle down’! Give me back my body, or I’ll--!”

It’s all too sudden, the shift from drifting formlessly through the void into something… a little more corporeal. He still can’t control his body, but in the surrounding darkness… he looks down. He can look down, at slightly-translucent, softly-glowing arms and legs.

This is… better, at least. It’s not his own body, but it’s better than… the nothingness.

And then he looks up.

He suddenly regrets his previous thought.

Looming over him, for lack of better words, is a giant shadow. It would almost look human, if not for the vast expanse of flowing, pitch-black hair that eventually trails off into the nothingness, or the piercing, glowing-red gaze peering down at him like he’s a mere insect.

[ You’ll… what? Tear your brain back open to get me out? Really now. ]

Hajime flounders desperately in an attempt to scoot backwards, but he doesn’t move an inch. He’s stuck floating in the same spot as impossibly-large hands come at him from both sides-- and proceed to cup around his ‘body’. Whatever form of gravity this place has suddenly comes into effect, his softly-glowing form tumbling into the palms of the shadow’s hands.

He lets out a terrified gasp as he’s lifted higher, to about the same level as those emotionless eyes.

For a moment, they both remain in silence. The shadow cocks its head, ever-so-slightly-- as though it were curious about its catch.

[ As I’ve already said, this is far from an ideal situation for you and me both. However, if there were a way to split our consciousnesses into separate entities, I would already be pursuing that course of action. As it stands, we are stuck together for the time being. ]

He flinches as its fingers move around him, thumbs moving closer and closer until they’re…

...Stroking him. Running over his back and head, impossibly gentle for such a massive creature.

[ Just know that I do not intend to harm you, Hajime Hinata, nor do I seek full control over your body. You will have it back once I am finished-- it would get boring very quickly if I held the reins for too long. For now, I just need you to calm yourself-- it’ll be irritating attempting to focus while also having to quell your struggling. ]

Seemingly involuntarily, Hajime finds himself letting out a long sigh, tenseness beginning to melt away from his ‘body’ and his actual, physical body at the same time. The shadow continues to carefully rub at him, massaging his shoulders and back-- it’s distracting enough that he can almost avoid looking at the unchanging, ominous eyes staring down at him, and enough that he almost doesn’t recognize how his physical body is changing.

The buildings around him are shifting, seemingly getting taller and taller with every breath. The process starts speeding up until, in a matter of seconds, they’re all looming over his body-- and Chiaki comes up to his chin instead of barely reaching his ankle.

And just like that, Hajime is gasping and coughing and swaying on wobbly knees, disoriented by suddenly regaining control of his lungs-- and the rest of his body-- once more. He nearly flinches at the sudden sensation of touch, as Chiaki’s hands quickly grab onto his shoulders to keep him from toppling over.

“I’m… Hajime, you’re really going to have to tell me what they did to you when we get out of here.”

He clears his throat in embarrassment and stands up straighter as he gets used to the feeling of his own body again, though he doesn’t exactly protest against letting Chiaki continue to support him.

“...Yeah, I’ll… I’ll try. It’s kind of a blur…”

(...Why didn’t you do that sooner?)

[ For protection, mostly, on the off chance that the facility staff attempted to incapacitate us. 

...That and it was rather enlightening to watch you and the girl attempting to get around the mental and physical barriers of your stature to display affection towards one another. ]

(Are you fucking kidding me.)

[ No. Also, please bathe at your earliest convenience. I regret that my brief experience with the sense of smell was fouled by your own body odor and the dirt clinging to your skin. ]

(Shut up. For the love of everything holy, shut up.)

[ I do not carry any particular fondness for any objects deemed by many cultures as ‘holy’-- ]

Hajime groans in exasperation, choosing to focus instead on Chiaki and being led away from the remains of the building behind them.

It… feels good just being near her again. Knowing he has a friend close by is comforting in and of itself-- probably his only friend at Hope’s Peak Academy, for that matter. One he’d come close to never seeing again, if he hadn’t been given a second chance.

“...So what’s going on with your eyes?”

He blinks, confused, before glancing over at her. “What do you mean?”

“One of them is red. And when you went back to normal, both of them were red. That’s not normal… I think.”

He freezes up momentarily at that-- and then he lets out another exasperated sigh before continuing to walk.

“It’s… a long story.”

(...But at least I’m still here to tell it.)

[shy-and-bubbly]

Discoveries

Summary: This is a continuation to a previous fic called “Curiosity!” So it would be recommended to read that first in order to gain some context for this fic. -> Link

Warnings: None aside from the usual: It’s a tickle fic! And fluff. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey Skeppy, are you ticklish?"

Skeppy hasn't denied something so fast in his entire life.

"No! No no, of course I'm.. not." Skeppy mentally cursed to himself. The panic in his voice sounded obvious, even to his own ears. To his relief however, it seemed that Bad took his word for it anyway. 

"Oh.." Bad's smile faltered, a little disappointed. It made Skeppy feel just a tinge of guilt. Still, Skeppy doesn't know whether he wants to even say the truth or not.

"So some people are ticklish while others aren't?" Skeppy takes a moment to regain his composure, still adjusting to the questions of his curious best friend.

"I.. guess? It's more like some people are more.. ticklish than others." Bad let out a hum of intriguement while Skeppy tried to focus on building the staircase in their mansion, ignoring the tinge of red on his face.

"Well if that’s the case.. are you sure you're not even a little ticklish Skeppy?"

"Why the heck are you so persistent about this?" Skeppy laughed a bit and turned to look at Bad to hide his nervous and defensive act. 

"Hey I just wanted to make sure! Is there something wrong with that?" 

"No, but I already told you I'm not. Definitely not like you~" He teased, a smug expression on his face.

Bad crossed his arms and turned away from Skeppy, pouting. "This is so unfair. How come you're not ticklish one bit, and yet I'm… you know!" He whined. 

Skeppy grinned. He couldn’t help but tease him even more, moving closer to him "I don't see anything wrong with that. Nothing wrong with being adorably ticklish."

Bad let out a little grr as he felt his face flushing up. "But you aren't ticklish, and that means I can't even get you back y- ah! Hehehey!" 

"I don't see a problem here." Skeppy giggled as he repeatedly squeezed Bad's sides. "Like I said, nothing wrong with being adorably ticklish."

"Hardcorhaha! Nohohohot! Nohot adorhable! NohaHAha!" Bad lightly squirmed as he covered his face, tail swishing side to side. 

"Not cute but hardcore, hm?" Skeppy softly chuckled. "Badboyhalo, a demon from the netherworld, gets defeated by tickles. How hardcore." He sarcastically says.

"I hahahate you!" 

"No you don't." Skeppy said in a lighthearted tone, slowly coming to a stop. "You know you love me- EEP!" 

Bad unexpectedly in the midst of his squirming and giggling pinched Skeppy's side in retaliation, catching Skeppy off guard. Bad stared at him, processing the strange sudden noise coming from Skeppy. A bright happy smile appeared on Bad's face the moment he realized. 

"Skeppy, what was that?" 

Shit. 

"Oh wow would you look at the time! I should probably start running to get out of here and go to that one place I need to be, okay bye!" 

Bad quickly wrapped his arms around Skeppy the moment he tried to run away. "Oh no you don't!" 

Skeppy let out a shriek, squirming as he felt himself being dragged to the floor. Bad fell back as gently as possible, sitting on the floor while still having Skeppy in his arms. 

Skeppy quickly looked up at Bad with a nervous grin. He was staring back at him with eagerness in his eyes and his tail wagging a mile per minute. "Can I try?"

"Whahat?" Skeppy anxiously laughed out.

"Can I try to tickle you? ..Please?" He looked at him with pleading puppy dog eyes. Sure he was eager to, but Bad thought it was only fair to Skeppy if he was comfortable with it. 

Skeppy felt a mix of emotions. He found it surprising that he even asked, but at the same time it wasn't surprising to him that Bad was this considerate. 

He didn't know what to say at first. He cursed that bright and pleading look that Bad was giving him, because now saying no wasn't an option for him. 

Skeppy crossed his arms and avoided Bad's gaze. "I.. am not saying shit." Skeppy bit back a smile as he heard Bad's offended gasp. 

"Language! I was just asking you nicely, you muffinhead!" He quickly, but cautiously put his hands on Skeppy’s sides. He felt Skeppy flinch against him as nervous laughter started pouring from him. 

Bad smiled as he took note that Skeppy was giggling even though he wasn't doing anything yet. "Ohhh Skeppyyy, I'm still waiting for a yes or no answer."

Skeppy let out an embarrassed groan, still avoiding Bad's eyes. "Fineee! Just get it over with so that I can finish the STAHAHA! Wahahahait!"

He flailed around and started kicking his legs as soon as Bad started. Bad was gently dragging his claws on Skeppy's sides, which were fortunately not too sharp to harm him.

"Holy cow you are a squirmy little muffin! Hold still!" 

Skeppy couldn't hold still to save his life. He continued squirming side to side, in hopes of lessening the effects of the overwhelming tingles surging throughout his nerves. Of course, it was no use. 

"Ihihi cahan naHAhaha! AhahaHAHAHA!" Skeppy’s arms clamped over Bad's hands, trapping his wiggling claws under his underarms. Bad couldn't help but giggle as he heard Skeppy let out a squeal before breaking into bubbly laughter. 

"Awww you can't even hold still." Bad said out loud while smiling.

"Shahahaha! Shuhut the fuhuhuck uhuhup!” 

Bad gasped and decided to do something similar to what Skeppy did before. As a consequence for swearing, he held onto one of Skeppy’s wrists with one hand, tickling the exposed armpit with the other. It was effective as his cackling became higher in pitch. 

“EeheeheeAHAHA! Oh my gohohohod BahaHAD!"

"This is what you get for being a sweary potato~" He said in a sing-song tone, admiring the loud laughter he was forcing out of him.

"Youhou're such A JEHEHERK!" Skeppy twisted and turned, making Bad let go of Skeppy's arm. Bad giggled and settled on tracing his claws around the hip area instead, not giving him breaks and making Skeppy let out a squeak before covering his mouth to muffle his laughter. 

"Awe come on Skeppy don't cover your mouth. I wanna hear your laugh, it's adorable."

"Fuhuhuck ohohoff!" He playfully glared.

"Okay language, now you're just being rude." Bad said in a fake stern voice, letting a few chuckles slip out. He figured out that Skeppy was provoking him on purpose. It was like a fun game to him. 

Bad also noticed that this tickle spot wasn't as bad for Skeppy as it was for him. He thinks to himself. There might be a spot that's bad for Skeppy as well. The question now was where?

Apparently, he got his answer sooner than he thought. He was startled when he heard Skeppy suddenly shriek and felt him buck his hips. 

"AAAAH! BAHAHAHAHAD!" 

Bad beamed and held Skeppy still as possible as he dragged his claws on Skeppy's stomach. "Hmm what's wrong Mr. 'I'm not ticklish at all?' Is something the matter?"

"NOHAHA THEHAHA! Bahahad bahaHA!" Skeppy threw his head back in hysterics, stomping his foot repeatedly on the floor in protest. “I CAHAHAN’T! I can’t do thihiHIHIS!

"Awww, you're really ticklish Skeppy. I love it.." Bad murmured fondly. He started using both hands to firmly trace circles near the center of his stomach, driving Skeppy up the wall.

Skeppy let out another shriek and bucked upwards once again. He was slapping Bad's arms lightly before holding onto them and dissolving into giggly hysteria. It was barely possible to understand the poor guy at this point.

"Bahaheeehe! PLEHEHEE! PLEEHAhaha! BAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA-!" 

Bad's tail wavered in the air. He couldn't stop smiling as he observed Skeppy. He stopped squirming and went limp leaning against him, face flushed red. His squeaky high pitched laughter was so pure and sweet sounding. 

He took it all in, adoring the scene as much as he could. Bad knew that he eventually had to stop, since Skeppy's laughter was becoming quieter and more breathy.

When Bad finally stopped, he lifted skeppy up just a tiny bit to completely wrap his arms around him. He felt a little worried when he heard Skeppy cough while he was gasping for breath.

"Are you okay?"

Skeppy said nothing for a while before more giggles poured out. "My stomach huhurts." 

Bad felt more worried. Did he get carried away? “Aww I’m sorry.”

“You know for.. fohor someone who didn’t.. know what tickling wahas, you were.. ruthless as hell..” He managed to say in between his tired breaths letting out another cough.

“Oh my gosh.” Bad wrapped his arms a little tighter. "I'm so sorry. I was just excited to get back at you, but I've never done this before and-"

"No no, you're fine!" Skeppy hugged and quickly reassured Bad. "Take that as a compliment. You didn't go too far Bad, it's alright." He chuckled.

Bad relaxed a bit, relieved. "Okay.. so you're fine then?" 

"I'm okahay.. Tired, but okay.." Skeppy melted more into Bad's embrace still trying to catch his breath, before he heard light hearted giggling coming from Bad.

“So what do you mean by ‘take that as compliment’ Skeppy? Did I get you good?” He asked with a teasey tone.

“I- Wh-.. U-Um” Skeppy stuttered before sighing and hiding his face in defeat. “Yeah Bad, you got me..”

"You're ticklish.." Bad quietly mumbled with a grin on his face.

"Shut up, so are you!" Skeppy huffed a bit. He felt Bad nuzzle his head, suddenly hearing some strange buzzing noise coming from Bad.

"Are you.. purring?" Skeppy laughed a bit in disbelief. 

"Shush." Bad let out an embarrassed grunt despite the fact that he was still purring, tail swaying slowly. Skeppy shifted around a bit, making Bad whine and tightening his hold around him. He didn’t want to let go of Skeppy just yet. He wanted to give him and himself comfort.

Skeppy didn’t complain or say another word. He giggled softly and made himself comfortable. It was nice. 

Repairing the mansion can wait anyways. 

-

Soft demons are basically overgrown cats I don’t make the rules

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[aomine-ryo]

Umm, a scenario please with a jealous midorima!! Like the reader likes him, and he likes her. But both are shy/afraid to confess. And like, the reason they started talking was because of takao, so midorima misinterpets the reader liking takao, but she's just shy to act around him or something like that. So midorima is also aloof slash cold idk so reader thinks he hates/isn't interested in her. HEA pls!! :P thank youu ❤️

It’s a bit long, but I hope you like it!! xx

Scenario: Jealous Midorima with a crush on you

You weren’t too sure how it happened, but Takao was one of your first friends at Shutoku when you joined. You kind of lucked out on your first day by getting assigned a seat next to him because he was really easy to talk to, so you weren’t as lonely as you thought you’d be. Eventually, the two of you ended up becoming quite good friends and he introduced you to his teammate, Midorima, who he talked about quite often.

Midorima was also in your class, but he never really talked to you. Takao would often have to bounce back and forth between you two because both of you were equally as shy around new people and were unwilling to go through the awkward introduction. Takao finally got fed up though, so he just forced you two to talk to each other.

“Y/N, this is Midorima Shintaro. Shin-chan, this is Y/N,” Takao said, eyes sparkling and voice full of energy as he was desperate to minimise the amount of time he had to spend repeating the same stories.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, seemingly fed up by Takao’s antics. While he appeared disinterested on the outside, Midorima thought you were incredibly cute— and totally his type. He just didn’t know how to flirt nor did he know how to hold a conversation with someone new, even if he really would like to get to know you more.

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied curtly.

There was nothing but an awkward silence left after that as both of you avoided any form of eye contact.

Takao let out a sigh, “You two are hopeless.” Takao swung his arm around your shoulders and shifted his weight onto you. “Y/N here is really interesting you know. You two are just too quiet for your own good. We’re all buddies now— no objections,” Takao declared, earning a small giggle from you at how carefree he was.

You noticed Midorima just roll his eyes at him. Something about the way his arm was hung around you and the fact that he made you giggle like that made Midorima feel slightly annoyed. He was aware that Takao was just like that with everyone, but the green haired boy couldn’t help but envy how he could so easily touch you without it being a big deal. “I don’t like the fact that I have no say in this, but whatever,” he said bluntly, not seeming interested in being there whatsoever.

As time went by, the three of you became quite close. You’d spend most of your time hanging out with them, however you still found it rather difficult to talk to Midorima even after months of being around him and Takao. You really wished you were more comfortable talking to him because you’d begun to develop feelings for him and you wanted to build up the courage to tell him by talking to him more, but it was impossible for you to approach him. He just had this energy that made you feel like he probably didn’t like you and was only forced to be your friend. Though you did have to keep reminding yourself that you’re probably just overthinking it.

Midorima on the other hand, did his best to avoid spending time with you and Takao. For some reason, he hated how much you’d talk and laugh with Takao as it just filled him with this resentful feeling that made him wish that he was as easygoing as his friend. He’d never admit to himself that he was jealous though— his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Furthermore, to him, it was as clear as day that you liked Takao. You spent most of your time in class around him, and Midorima swore that your face would light up every time he was around you. So to avoid the pain in his chest he’d feel every time he sees that, he did his best not to be with you two together. That didn’t stop him from thinking about you all the time though. You took up so much of his thoughts that he just found himself constantly comparing himself to Takao and wishing that he was different.

You were meant to be hanging out with Midorima and Takao one evening because there was this new pastry shop that Takao was dying to try out, and obviously he had to drag you two along with him. All of you had decided to meet at the shop and you thought that you would be the last one to get there since you were running a few minutes late. However, when you arrived, you were surprised to find just Midorima sitting at a table with two empty chairs.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. Where’s Takao?” you greeted him as you took a seat.

“No idea. That idiot won’t pick up my calls,” Midorima said with a shrug as he put his phone down on the table in frustration.

“That’s weird. Let me give it a try,” you said as you fished your phone out of your pocket.

It took a few rings but Takao eventually picked up. “Hey Takao. Midorima and I are at the shop. Where are you?” you spoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t think I can make it. My mum wants me to drop my sister off at her friend’s house all of a sudden,” Takao explained, with a slight ruffling sound in the background.

“Oh that sucks. Maybe we can come here with you some other time then,” you said.

“Yeah hopefully. I was looking forward to it. Anyways, have fun guys,” Takao replied, still a hint of cheeriness in his tone.

“He’s not coming,” you informed Midorima (who was slightly offended that Takao picked up your call and not his) once you ended your conversation with Takao.

“Well isn’t that lovely,” he said sarcastically.

You were really hoping that Takao would come because now that the two of you were alone, you didn’t know what to do. “So now what?” you said, praying that it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagine.

“I mean, we might as well get something since we’re here,” Midorima shrugged, not wanting the trip here to have gone to waste, but at the same time wanting to spend some time with you. “Unless you want to leave?”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ve been waiting to try this place out for a while anyways,” you said as you picked up the menu and began to browse through in silence.

The two of you placed your orders and sat there waiting impatiently. The place was rather busy so you were surrounded by a faint chatter, however the air between you two was heavy.

“So, do you have any matches coming up?” you asked to fill the silence. You had to get to know him eventually— he’s best friends with someone you’re close to after all.

“Yeah, preliminaries are starting in about two weeks I think,” Midorima replied.

“Oh, text me the dates— I might drop by. I’ve heard you’re quite a star on the court so I’ve been dying to see you play,” you smiled, hoping that it wasn’t too forward of you to be saying something like that when you liked him.

“Really? Are you sure you don’t just want to watch Takao?” Midorima asked simply. He was convinced that you liked Takao so he felt that it was okay to be saying it as it is, even though it did hurt slightly.

“Well, sure I can watch Takao too I guess. You’re both my friends and on the same team after all,” you said, slightly confused as to why he’d say something like that. “I’m really interested to see you though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Takao’s been raving about how you can shoot from anywhere on the court and I really want to see you in action, you know?” you said.

“You can always drop by a practice to see that too,” he said.

“Really? Can I?” You said as your eyes lit up.

“You’re awfully excited to see me play,” Midorima joked, the faintest of smiles appearing on his face, making you realise how rare it was to see him like this. “Sure, you can come watch.”

“Woah, I’ve never seen you smile,” you pointed out, making him immediately straighten his expression.

“What do you mean? Am I not allowed to smile?” he asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

“No, you’re allowed to— it’s just that I’ve never seen it before until now... it’s kind of cute,” you said, mumbling the last part.

Midorima felt his cheeks heat up at the sound of those words. He did hear you call him cute, right? “Thanks. But don’t think saying that is going to make me smile more. I smile when I want to,” Midorima said defensively, feeling as though he could explode at any moment now.

“Noted,” you chuckled. “You know, I always thought you hated me or something. So I’m glad we can talk like this,” you said honestly, trying to continue the conversation and avoid any awkward silences.

“Hate you? Why would I hate you?” Midorima questioned. If anything, it was the pure opposite. He was sure that he had fallen for you. He just didn’t know how to express it.

“I don’t know, you just don’t say much when I’m around. I know you talk to Takao a lot though, so I figured I was the issue,” you explained with a shrug.

“I can assure you it’s nothing like that— you’re thinking too much into it. I thought you preferred talking to Takao so I just backed off a bit,” he said, not sure how he ended up being so honest with you.

“I don’t really have any preferences like that. I’ve been wanting to talk to you more but I didn’t know how. In a way, I’m kind of glad we can spend some time like this, you know? Did you really think I preferred Takao that much?”

“Well, yeah. I kind of thought you had a crush on him or something,” he said, not wanting to meet your eyes because he was aware about how strange it sounded.

“On Takao? No way. He’s really just a close friend. I don’t see him like that,” you replied, unable to hold back a small laugh.

For reasons he didn’t want to admit, Midorima felt a surge of happiness upon hearing those words. “Oh that makes things easier,” he thought out loud without realising it.

“How so?” you replied, making him panic internally.

Was he really going to say it now? “Well, I have feelings for you and I’ve been holding back from saying anything because I thought you liked Takao. But since that’s not the case, I guess I feel more comfortable saying it now,” he said, aware that he was blabbering to delay your response out of nervousness.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you processed what he had just said. You could barely believe your ears. The feelings were mutual after all.

Midorima finally looked at you to see if he could understand how you were feeling based on your expressions, but all he managed to think of was how pretty you looked sitting across from him. “If you don’t feel the same way, it’s alright. We can just pretend I never said anything—“

“No,” you cut him off as you placed your hand over his, which was resting on the table. “I definitely feel the same way. I just can’t believe that it’s actually real,” you chuckled.

Midorima looked down at how your small hand laid on top of his and he couldn’t help but think that his heart was going to beat right out of his chest at the sound of those words as well as the way you smiled at him. He couldn’t believe that he was the one that got you to smile like that, let alone that you actually felt the same way.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that?” Midorima asked, his paranoid mind still unable to believe that this was actually happening.

“I’m certain,” you said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “So, is this our first date?” you giggled jokingly.

“No way. I will take you out on my own terms so this doesn’t count,” he said, the smile returning to his face once again as he found your giggles contagious.

You found yourself getting lost in his green eyes as both of your hearts beat at the speed of light. “Well then, I can’t wait.”

[imnotwolverine]

Signs

Geralt of Rivia x reader (smutty fic)

Word count: 2.371

Disclaimer: Witcher signs and some kind of smut

Author’s note: I’ve been reading a bunch of snippets from Andrzej Sapkowski’s Witcher books and one of them described a meeting between Eskel and Triss. Triss was taken aback when he touched her, because his Witcher skin triggered “pleasant, but piercing vibrations”. WELP. I don’t know about you, but; count me horny, girls.

Go to Signs part 2 or read Signs part 3

--

Simmering eyes. That’s how you’d describe them.

Throughout the night they had made sure to land at least a dozen times on your form as you drank and danced with your fellow townsfolk, the beast now defeated and your lives saved. But it had not been a knight in shining armour that had fended off the beast. No. It had been him, a weary man in tattered boiled leather armour, his face studious and ..simmering.

It fascinated you.

Between the dances you’d steal glances at the peculiar stranger, the flames of a fire that roared in the middle of the square dancing over his face as his large hand thumbed over his cup of mead. With those peculiar eyes he watched some flirty wenches, their giggles bouncing off the buildings that surrounded the square, some young men trying to steal their attention for the night. But, what these wenches seemed to forget was that there was probably only one who could TRULY show them a good night.

Him.

That is..if the stories were true. Weren’t Witchers known for their outstanding stamina..and..eh..*aherm*.. virility?

The very idea of what could be hiding beneath that worn leather armour made your legs tingle and cheeks grow hot, the song you were dancing to ending and your partner thankfully not noticing the sudden heat that crossed your face. ‘Thank you.’ You mumbled at him before turning on your heel, wishing to step out to refresh yourself but finding yet another suitor before you.

Him.

Like in a blur he offered you a gracious greeting bow, white hair slipping over his wide shoulders before he rose to full height again, his frame towering a good foot above you. There was not really a question in whether or not you’d accept this dance, his feet already stepping closer, pushing you back into the dancing circle as a new tune was struck.

He hadn’t danced with anyone else yet, so you couldn’t help but feel both confused and flattered at once, more heat rising to your cheeks as you finally managed to take a good close look at the Witcher. And dare you say..he was a rather pleasant specimen to look at. High cheekbones, strong jawline. And those eyes. Those eyes!

‘I was about to cool down for a bit.’ You smiled sheepishly, receiving a wolfish grin from him. ‘Well I am just warming up.’

His voice was deep and honey, rumbling through his chest like a summer thunder. Delightfully so. You couldn’t help but become putty before he even inched close enough to start the dance, the rest of the crowd already twirling and laughing around you. It was as if the late summer air had grown more thick and the fires burned more brightly when the White wolf raised his arms in a dancing stance, your arms quick to follow suit and interlace fingers with his. And how. You weren’t sure if it was the mead in your blood or the heat of his touch, but like little sparkles, a strong force emitted from his being. It buzzed from his skin.

Like magic.

Then again. Witchers did indeed use some type of magic. So perhaps..just maybe..maybe he..You looked back up in his eyes, mirth shining there as he gripped you more tightly, an arm sneaking around your lower back before pulling you incredibly close. You didn’t know this man’s name. Where he was from. Or if he even WAS a man to begin with. But here you were. Noses nearly touching, eyes melting into one another as his feet started manoeuvring you with effortless grace through the crowd.

He hadn’t looked like much of a dancer, but apparently he was one for pleasant surprises. Light feet did not once mislead, even now you could feel the heat and alcohol happily buzzing through your foggy brain. It was like you were floating, the thick crowd around you forgotten as you looked up, studying the Witcher. His countenance seemed far less reserved now you were so close to him. In fact, he seemed to have fun. A sparkle hid in the severity of his tight jaw, focused eyes, fingers tracing some deliberate circles over your back as you moved.

‘What is it you see?’ He grumbled again, eyes flicking back to meet yours, sending with it yet another shivery tremble through your nervous thighs. Oh, what was it with this man that made you so weak at the knees? Quickly recomposing yourself you laughed, the sound tinkling above the joyous banter of the crowd. ‘Oh Witcher. I guess I.. see you.’ You winked and leaned a little more into the arm he kept snuggly held around your back, trusting him to support you.

‘You are not afraid.’ He stated, as if nearly surprised, golden eyes studying you as you looked ahead to see where you were going - he was steering you to the outer ring of the dancing crowd, where the couples danced more slowly. Less erratically. But thereby offering opportunity to talk. And be more acutely aware of those sparks that seemed to dance on the Witcher’s skin.

A strange feeling indeed.

‘Curious, mostly.’ You smiled.

‘About what?’

‘You.’ You said, shrugging nonchalantly. Was that the alcohol talking? You were glad that you were old enough to have built a life of your own, your parents never having to hear about this..whorish..act on your behalf. Dance with a monster? Speak the tongues of seduction? Were you insane?!

‘And why is that?’ He enjoyed it.

Another jolt washed through you. Was he..was he doing that on purpose? You eyed where your hands were connected, his grip tight and warm around your proffered palm. You couldn’t see anything, but..

*spark*

HE WAS DOING IT AGAIN.

‘Ho-how..?’ You breathed, blinking as you obviously felt something. Not only in your hand. Also..*aherm*..eh..down between your thighs. The Witcher laughed, hands pulling you even closer, nose now brushing close to the shell of your ear. ‘I can smell you.’ He whispered huskily, the timber of his voice making yet another shiver run over your skin.

Alright, whether or not you were a whore. He was intriguing. You had to give him that. And the alcohol in your veins was definitely not helping, your lips curling up, all on their own accord. ‘Hahah..and what is it you are smelling good lord?’ - ‘Hmm. I’m afraid I am no lord, milady.’

‘Well I am not a “milady”, sir.’

‘And I am no “sir” either…wren.’

‘Wren?’ You shook your head in amusement. ‘I am no bird..wolf. You see, I cannot fly.’ You managed to escape his arms, fluttering your arms playfully at your sides as you slipped into the more wildly dancing inner circle, leaving the Witcher behind. The Witcher’s grin grew, nose sniffing the air to follow your scent.

‘I’ll make you.’

—

You knew he was not far behind. With fast feet you sped through the crowd, moving closer and closer to the fire that centred the village square. The heat was blazing here, making the dancing sweat on your muscles loosen again, small droplets gathering in the back of your neck. Looking around carefully you couldn’t see him. All you saw was a few hundred people minding their own business; drinking, dancing, making merry. And quite naughtily so. Your eye fell on a pair that was no longer moving in the crowd, feet halted and hands tugging at half-undone clothes, fingers roaming where they probably shouldn’t in public. The woman’s stays were leaving little to the imagination, her voluptuous chest near spilling out as the man duck down to lick the deep crevice between.

‘You fly not far.’ Him again, dark voice humming in your ear. You jolted up, wishing to flee again, but this time there was no room, no way, the fire blocking one side and his large chest the other. ‘I told you I can’t…-’ You turned to protest, but lost your train of thought as he pressed his nose back up against yours, nudging it. He was so close and the fire was so hot in your spine that you could literally feel yourself melt, feet not managing to get away even if you wanted to.

The wolfish grin returned and with half an eye the Witcher also peered at the naughty couple a few meters ahead, their tongues now dancing. You couldn’t help but steal the moment yourself to just stare at him, the close flames now brightening up his whole face until no hair or scar could be missed. He WAS handsome to a fault. Even the small scar just above his eyebrow seemed to only enhance his looks, those simmering honeyed eyes now turning back to you as his thumb brushed up over your cheek, feeling the slight stick of sweat there before he gripped your jaw.

His fingertips sparked again with that energy, that magic, a cold shiver running down your spine despite the heat of fire and flesh around you. It awoke that barely cooled down slick between your thighs, your legs awkwardly wishing to squeeze and rub together to alleviate the frustration that was steadily building there. And the Witcher..he didn’t seem to miss your condition, lips tugging up in a smile as he leaned even closer, lips now nearly touching yours, fingers cupped your face in two large hands, tipping your head back for easy access.

And you allowed it. Whore! Whore!

‘Little wren.’ The Witcher broke through your thoughts, fang-like teeth appearing behind his silky lips. His smile was strange. But you couldn’t care, your eyes already lost in those burning orbs of gold. This man could do anything with you as he seemed fit, that much was clear as you didn’t protest one bit, body mush beneath his tingling fingertips.

*SPARK*

You gasped as that same energy surged more strongly through his finger pads, shooting straight down your spine and out your nerve endings. Making that coil inside your stomach twist and twirl.

His smile grew.

Slowly one of his hands dipped lower, travelling a slow and tantalising path down your neck, thumb finding the top of your stays, just hidden beneath your simple blue cotton dress. More sparks buzzed as four more fingers joined his thumb, a full hand now placed on your bosom, your breath choking in its confines. ‘Please.’ You begged - though you were not sure what for, his lips still awfully close to yours. He did, however. A silent gasp glued to your lips as he dipped down, lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, placing a gentle kiss there. The combination of wild electricity, a two-day old beard and soft plushy lips was almost worth flying for. Almost.

With trembling legs you quivered beneath his touch, the hand that had rested on your bosom quick to swoop around your lower back again, pressing you impossible close as his lips nibbled on, finding the line of your jaw, cheekbone, his breath hot on your already heated skin. Even his lips seemed to elicit power. Small, but piercing little vibrations running through your nerve endings at every brush of his silky touch.

Again, it felt like you were floating, though this time the dance was different. It was..not dancing at all. Was this flying, then? Your legs could no longer stand as your eyes rolled closed, body giving in to the pleasure that sparked in your loins. How could he do that without even touching you down there? Lolling your head back for a moment his lips took the opportunity to travel down your neck, nipping and nudging you further to the frayed edge of reason. But you needed more before you could truly fall - or fly. Opening your eyes you were met with those simmering yellow orbs again, his lips and hands not hesitating to give you what you needed. It was like he could read your mind, the hand on your lower back travelling lower, pressing your hip into the curve of his arousal, hot and throbbing beneath his breeches.

And sending off an energy that broke your lips apart again.

‘Oh my..’ You breathed, your parted lips an invitation he couldn’t refuse, his kiss now finally placed where it was needed. Sweet, honey..sparkles, his tongue brushing hot and velvety inside, sending more energy through your limp limbs until all you could do was give in. Give in to his hard softness. His sweet tanginess. His..Wait, tanginess? Blood? You only noticed now that he had bit down on your lip, tongue soothing back over the small nip. But could you care? Not as of right now. With a groaning moan you bit back, his upper lip caught between your teeth as the hand on your bum now rubbed you more fiercely against his clothed erection, the many layers between you only causing more friction. More…

ARGH

It was like there were a hundred hands caressing your skin, tingling and tickling and loving and..OH SWEET MERCY! His lips retook the reigns, forcing your lips apart again as his tongue delved deeper into you, sending with it the last of HIS mercy, your whole body now convulsing in his tight grip.

Flying.

It took a good long moment to realise that the dance had ended and people were changing partners again, making it a perfect moment to escape. But it wouldn’t be alone. Your legs wobbled dangerously - as if drunk - the Witcher now leading you back to the outer edge of the square, his arm strong as steel around your trembling physique. Once you were back in the calm, he turned, thumb brushing over your swollen lips, finding a little blood there. ‘Ai. A wounded bird.’ He studied the small gash that he had made in your lip, but all you could do was smile, the spark of his touch numbing all pain.

‘Better kiss me to make it better.’

‘Hmm.’ He smiled, then slowly shook his head once. ‘No.’

‘No?’ You felt hurt by his sudden refusal. Was he just going to discard you after..after…?!

‘I know something else to do. But not here…’ He leaned in closer, nose sniffing in your scent - and your arousal - again.

‘..little wren.’

--

Go to Signs part 2 >

--

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Smutty squad: @cavillryarchive @wem412 @damnitasshole @consumedbyreading

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 9

So, here's the last chapter for now. I hope I can introduce you to the next one fairly quickly, but it's still being written. Hoping you liked those already released and see you soon for chapter 10 🐉

(Link for Chapter 10 here)

Chapter 9 : I've always been used to only showing my human form

My footsteps echoed in the silent of the Guards' Corridor. I had just left Lance's room and it was with a much lighter heart than when I entered that I walked away. The distant rumor of the happy conversations had finally died down, leaving me wondering how long I had been able to spend with the dragon.

Finally, I didn’t regret my impromptu visit. Even if our understanding remained fragile and our points of convergence continued to darken the picture, his presence had nevertheless proved, in many respects, more beneficial than harmful. So, to my surprise, I never believed that one day I would come to beg for his patience to relieve my ailments.

Unlike the last time, it was with a feeling of euphoria that I could feel the magic continue to flow through me. Not as vigorously as when I awakened my powers, but undoubtedly, its power had slowly returned to pulsating in my veins. When I wiggled my fingers, I could still feel bits of heat run through my muscles. And the strangest thing about it was that instead of wearing me out, this power rush seemed to invigorate me.

For the first time in weeks, I felt good.

Looking up, I noticed that a small figure was wandering right in front of me. In the half-light of the corridor, I narrowed my eyes to try to make out her more clearly. When she passed in front of one of the windows, the moonlight let me see the face of a little girl with long, light hair. Not seeming to notice my presence, she continued to wander until she reached the entrance to the Crystal Room, right next to me. When the girl finally reached my height, I was surprised to find myself overcome by a familiar feeling.

Did I know this child ?

The young girl finally entered the room without a glance in my direction. Intrigued and attracted by her aura, I decided to follow suit.

I entered in my turn cautiously and almost immediately, a feeling of serenity had seized my heart when my gaze rested on the immense Crystal enthroned religiously in the center of the large room. On the doorstep, I was dumbfounded for a moment.

Strangely enough, I had not been back here since waking up. Truth be told, I had even avoided that room in which I had spent far too much of my life.

However, I didn’t know for what reason.

Bathed in a soft light, the Crystal seemed so imposing to me that I could not look away for several seconds. Without realizing it, my steps slowly led me to it, my hand timidly extended in front of me. As my fingers approached the smooth surface of its barrier, I felt the warm energy of my powers unleashed down my arm to the palm of my palm. Kinds of tingling covered me almost entirely and it’s the shortness of breath that I felt one of my fingers cross the protection which surrounded the luminescent crystals.

- Andraste ?

I jumped even more at the hearing of the voice that echoed behind my back. As if caught in the act, I quickly withdrew my hand and turned to my interlocutor.

It was his long blonde hair that I noticed first.

- Leiftan, what are you doing here ?

How had I managed not to realize his presence ? Since the big battle, aengel and I were connected. Whenever he stood next to me, I got to feel his emotions as if they were mine, and probably the other way around.

- I'll turn the question back to you, he said to me, his face marked by a certain curiosity. I couldn't get to sleep. When I left my room, I saw you come out of one of them and lead you here.

He marked a silence full of innuendo before adding, in a much colder tone :

- From Lance's, it seems to me.

I tensed at hearing his last sentence. A dull anger seized for a short moment in my heart and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was not mine.

- Yes, I just needed to clear some things up with him.

- At this time of night ?

I had the impression of undergoing the interrogation of a jealous lover, except that it did not concern him.

- I have no further explanation for you, Leiftan.

The latter didn't answer anything and just probed my face.

I had seen him very little lately. The aengel seemed to do his utmost to flee any presence and to keep away from all responsibility. I had already tried to ask him to train me, especially about my powers because until now, he had been the only one who could help me, but he had each time declined my requests.

- Good. But I reiterate, what are you doing here in the middle of the night ?

His anger had subsided, I only felt a great calm accompanied by a touch of curiosity. But his question brought me back to reality.

Where had the little girl gone ?

I realized that I had not seen her since I entered the room.

- I saw a child come in here, I said, hesitating to continue. There was something strange about her.

- Can you explain to me ?

I was a little confused on how to phrase it. How do I tell him that his aura attracted me ?

- She reminded me of... the Oracle, I finally let go.

His eyes widened slightly at what I was advancing, but he quickly regained his composure.

- I think I know who you're talking about.

- Really ? I exclaimed, in my turn surprised.

- Yes, Huang Hua reported to me the presence of a child in the HQ that nobody knows anything about. She does not speak, but some people have speculated that there is a connection between her and the Oracle.

I couldn't believe my ears. This little one has something to do with the Oracle ?

- I have for my part never crossed, I can tell you nothing more.

- Do you know how long she's been at HQ ?

He knew very well where I was going with this.

- It seems to me that she was noticed for the first time shortly before our return, he announced to me, his face serious.

Leiftan and I pondered his words. Our awakening was clearly not trivial, something strange was manifesting itself on Eldarya and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

- I'll leave you, it's getting late and I think you might be better off doing the same.

He walked towards the hallway door and added quietly :

- Good night, Andraste.

Giving me one last look filled with infinite sadness, he finally left the room.

- Good night, Leiftan, I answered weakly.

*

Two days passed following these two unexpected interviews and the guard finally charged me with a few simple missions which occupied my days. My visit to the dragon chamber had really been fruitful, because since our discovery on the possible communion of our powers, I had the impression that mine had never really left me. I had thus discovered that I was again able to send a faint light from my hands, even in the absence of Lance, which gave me incredible surges of energy. I was finally starting not to tire myself at the slightest effort, even if I continued to perceive anomalies in my physical state, which did not prevent my mood from being markedly improved.

Having joined the Obsidian Guard, I had therefore started to perform the few requests that I was able to do as long as there was no specific mission to perform. I walked through the forge when I heard a voice that I recognized immediately.

My heart was racing against my will.

- We're going to need enough materials to consolidate these weapons. It will also be necessary to train new recruits and see their level in combat. I don't have time to train everyone, but I trust you to give me your feedback.

Without being noticed, I walked over to a shelf and put down what I had just bought at the market. Trying to concentrate on my task, I couldn't help but strain my ears.

- No worries boss, you know you can count on me. I already have some reports for you.

- Very good. Thanks Falco, it's a great job.

The young man by the name of Falco put a solemn fist on his heart and bowed slightly before stepping out of the forge. I was speechless. It was the first time that I had seen Lance as the leader of the guard and I had to admit that he seemed made for it. His naturally bossy tone commanded respect, and I was troubled to see the trust and admiration his subordinates seemed to have in him.

Pretending not to have noticed it, I bustled about my task and listed the effects I had just bought before putting them away in each compartment. After that, I gathered the things I needed to be able to complete my missions for the day and get out of here. But to my chagrin, one of the items on the list was at the top of one of the shelves. Huffing in annoyance, I reached out as far as I could but only managed to touch the end of the object. I was about to give up the idea when an arm appeared in my sight and effortlessly grabbed the mesh I needed. Standing behind me, I didn't have to see him to know who he was, though.

The tanned hand of the leader of the Obsidian patiently handed the object to me.

Turning my head, I fell on a bluish gaze plunged into mine. I grabbed the object not avoiding the trouble, I was going to succeed in catching it.

- Thank you, but it was not worth it, I was going to manage to catch it.

A carnivorous smile stretched his features.

- Yet I thought I understood the reverse.

- It must be because of your chivalrous soul, you can't help but rescue a young girl in distress.

Lance gave a deep laugh that echoed close to my ear. He then pretended to look for a parchment in front of me and very quickly, I found myself stuck in the space of his arms. The rest of his words echoed even closer.

- It's true, but I think it's only in your presence, that.

He wasn't looking at me as he said those words, focused on a point straight in front of him. I remained frozen in place, I was far too aware of his proximity all around me to dare a movement.

- And so, you felt compelled to help me? It's funny, I knew you rather inclined to serve me more than anything else.

I felt the dragon smile behind my back.

- You're not wrong. But didn't you already tell you that I had changed ?

- Yes. And far too many times for my taste, if you want to know.

His laughter echoed between us once again and I couldn't help but smile too. He eventually found the parchment he was looking for and finally withdrew his arms, allowing me to finally resume my normal breathing.

- You are free tonight ? he asked me as if nothing had happened.

In response, I gave him a dumbfounded look that amused him once again. He was definitely in a good mood today.

- It seems to me that you asked me for help with a certain thing and that I suggest you do that tonight.

*

With a lump in my stomach, I found myself knocking on Lance's bedroom door again at a late hour, preferring to avoid the busy times in the hallway so as not to be surprised. This time, the dragon opened me much faster and moreover, he had taken care to keep some of his armor while still being more comfortable. Without a word, he let me in as if the gesture had already become a habit, and closed behind my back just as eloquently. He moved away from the clapper and briskly walked around me to remove his gloves and place them on his desk.

He seemed to ignore me completely. I waited several seconds but he definitely showed no sign of starting a conversation.

- So like that, you invite a girl to your room and you play the distant guy? I gave him bluntly.

Taken aback, the dragon looked at me with a strange eye, looking amused but also ...

An amused smile was born on his lips.

- You would have more interest in remaining a nice girl and not looking too much for me on this ground, you know. I will not hold back indefinitely, he said, planting his gaze on mine, in which I thought I read some undisguised envy.

Did I understand what he meant ?

My god, I was very hot all of a sudden.

- Lance ...

Seeing that he had managed to confuse me, the dragon seemed to revel in having cornered me. Because if I answered, the slope could become too slippery and we both knew it.

He laughed under his breath before finally changing the subject.

- Do you have any news about your powers ? he asked me.

Relieved, I smiled slightly before rolling up my sleeve and letting the beams of light travel up my arm. I thought I saw an imperceptible admiration appear on his face.

- Their feeling hasn't left me since the other night. It's still very weak, I can barely use it, but they're there, I finished with a hint of pride.

Lance tilted his head, suddenly looking thoughtful.

- It's a very good start. We will already start by focusing on this element before tackling a more complicated one.

- More complicated ?

- Well in my memories, you had a huge pair of wings on your back, he said with a thin smile.

My wings ... it is true that with Leiftan, he was the one who had seen my powers the most at work, in the end. Even though it was clearly not in the best of conditions. Thoughtful, I passed an absent hand between my shoulder blades but unsurprisingly, no trace of wings marked my back.

- It's true, I would love to find them, I said softly.

A memory suddenly came back to me.

- Tell me, the other night when I left your room, something rather strange happened.

- What ? he asked me, suddenly really intrigued.

- Going out into the hallway, I passed a child walking alone. She didn't seem to have noticed my presence. She went to the Crystal Room and when I followed her, she sort of ... disappeared.

Lance seemed to think for a moment.

- It is probably Ophéliai where it comes from, even if some hypothesize...

- That she would have a connection with the Oracle, I continued in his place.

Like every time something intrigued him, he raised one of his eyebrows.

- Indeed. But why are you telling me about it ?

I pursed my lips. I hadn't told anyone what had happened before Leiftan arrived in the room.

- When I entered, I felt a kind of connection between the Crystal and me. My powers absolutely seemed to want to manifest, and I don't know how that protective barrier works, but when my finger went through it...

- Wait, he stopped me, you crossed the barrier ?

I hesitated for a moment. Was it a good idea to confide in him ?

- Yes, at least, I had started to cross it. But the closer I got, the more I felt that my aengel strength was taking over. It was ... powerful.

Lance was silent for a long time, seeming to analyze my words. I clearly didn't like his silence.

- I think it's not for nothing if you saw her that night precisely, he began. You had just reactivated your powers, and if Ophelia really has a connection to the Oracle, it wouldn't be surprising if she sought to get in touch with you. The barrier is an enchanted protective field, normally no one is supposed to be able to cross it, but I guess that last point is not for you.

He paused again before concluding :

- I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but the Oracle seems to try to push you to use them, or at least to find them.

The words of the leader of the Obsidian echoed what I had feared. The Oracle seemed to want to get in touch with me, but for what reason exactly ?

I wondered if Leiftan's presence that evening was really harmless...

- Hopefully I can find them entirely, then. I don't feel that all of these events are heralding anything good.

- Me neither, if you want to know everything, he said in a serious tone. In any event, this proves that the process will have to be speeded up. I also thought about what happened between our respective magics, and I would like to try something else.

Playfully, Lance slowly approached the center of the room. When he reached my height, I was amazed to see ice blue scales appear along his skin. Escaping from the collar of his top, they went up to the bottom of his face, much like when he had marked me with his streaks two days before. His arms and hands also covered, more sparsely, and soon I could see a dragon tail wagging calmly behind his back.

I was totally fascinated by his appearance. I had seen him in his draconian form before, but never that way. Seeing him half transformed in this way reminded me of Tia, his mother, whom I had seen by his side in the memories of his ancestors in Memoria.

As if drawn in spite of myself, I raised a hand and let it slide along the scales that covered the base of his jaw. Rigid and cold, I felt them vibrate slightly under my fingers as his gaze never left me. Lance looked surprised at first, straining under my fingers, but finally let me.

- Do you feel better like that ? I asked him, watching the play of lights reflecting off the blue of his now hardened skin. Tia seemed more comfortable in this form, did you too ?

The dragon did not move a millimeter, but hearing his mother's first name, I saw him swallow his saliva with difficulty.

- I've always been used to showing only my human form, so it's very easy for me to stay that way. But yes, the most comfortable appearance is this, he told me in a deep and low voice, almost ashamed.

I gently pulled my hand away and watched his scales move slightly, as if a shiver ran through him just where my fingers left him.

- They are beautiful, I said, looking up to his.

I saw him swallow again and thought for a moment that he was going to make a move in my direction, but he finally restrained himself and just said :

- I avoid showing myself like that, in general. Normal people don't really feel confident when they learn they are in the presence of a dragon, he argued, his jaws clenched. Moreover for most, this form can seem repulsive.

I was shocked to hear those words. Faeries must be used to seeing creatures of all kinds, so why should the appearance turn them off ?

- I find it anything but repulsive, I felt compelled to tell him. And yet, I have lived much longer on Earth than here.

His features relaxed under my words.

- Dragons are believed to be a long extinct race, and their stories are largely unknown to the people of the lands of Eel. It is therefore not surprising to see them react in a virulent way to something that they thought was gone.

- Maybe, but it's still silly, I said, quite annoyed. Dragons are certainly very large, but certainly not repulsive.

Lance looked at me for a long time before laughing. His gaze suddenly softened.

- I hope I can count on your bravery to kick their buttocks for me, in this case.

I returned his smile sincerely, rocked by this revelation that saddened me for injustice. Because in a way I could understand what he was feeling. How would people react if they saw me walking around with aengel wings on my back ? They would probably be scared too, even if my form was softer than his.

I realized that humans and faeries looked more alike than I thought, the same fear of the unknown marking them indelibly.

- Well, what did you want to try, suddenly ?

His gaze suddenly became serious again, but the weak smile never left him.

- Do you know if you trust me, or still not ?

I hadn't really expected this question. But if I was here now, it had to be a bit like that, right ?

- Let's say I trust you a little more than before, I tell him cautiously.

He nodded in approval.

- I've been doing quite a bit of research on the powers of aengels and dragons since the other night, and there is something I would like to try. But for that, you have to trust me a minimum.

- All right, tell me what to do.

(Chapter 10)