#if anybody knows where the original image is from pls tell me??

[mitathemita]

he sit‼️‼️ (variants & closeups under cut)

[silverbladexyz]

i never see anybody write for the flags and u do it so well😭😭 can i request how they'd ask you out pls??

Oh anon and I would like to ask YOU out for giving me such a lovely request 💗

The image does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: Mentions of death

How the Flags would ask you out

Pianoman:

-This hot-fancy-suave-smooth-whimsy-fastidious-extra-fickle mafioso is actually kind of nervous at the thought of asking you out. He is a perfectionist, and he just can't think of the perfect way to ask you out

-And what was the perfect spot for a date? He knows he can’t make it too expensive and fancy, because then you would think that he was too desperate for you. And he can’t make it too simple as well, or else you’d think he was doing this just as a fling

-Literally is in internal conflict for the longest time ever. It became so obvious that even you noticed it. You never asked though, because frankly it may be intruding into his own privacy. Not to mention you had feelings for him and you didn’t want him to think you were weird

-After the longestttt time in internal conflict, it was Lippmann in the end who made him confess. While Pianoman is his leader, Lippmann is a smoother talker, and in the end he managed to convince this perfectionistic mafioso to ask you out

-So in the end, he decides to ask you to meet him at Old World alone on one of your free days. It was his free day as well and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was planning. Although you were a bit skeptical, you still decided to go. Who wouldn’t say no to being alone with their hot crush? I wouldn’t

-When you enter the bar and slide next to him with a smile on your face, Pianoman is feeling extra nervous. What if you rejected him? But he isn’t backing out because he hates the idea of making you come all the way here only for him to just talk with you

-He engages in small talk with you at the start, and it isn’t long before he starts incorporating jokes and funny things to make you laugh. You were having a great time, but you still wondered a little why he called you here in private

-It’s when the bar is quiet and you two are in comfortable silence is when Pianoman finally decides to drop the question. He’ll start with saying your name first, and when you turn to him, it’s when he prepares the short speech that he’s been thinking about all the time

-‘Y/N... ever since I’ve met you, I was attached to you. Your loveliness, charm and intellect is what brightens my day. Now, I can’t stop thinking about you. So to relieve me of the constant tightening of my chest and the butterflies in my stomach whenever I’m around you... would you like to go out with me sometime?’

-He says this calmly and professionally, but internally he is panicking. When you open your mouth to say your answer, Pianoman is silently tensed up and is hoping that you say yes

-When you say yes, he smiles and says ‘see you on Saturday night’. It’s after he walks away that all the anxiety and stress leaves him so quickly he almost collapsed from the feeling. Lippmann asked him to spill all the tea the next time the Flags were gathered together

Albatross:

-Oh boy... this chaotic menace is just going to act like he normally does. Which means that you can’t tell whether he’s being genuine or just being playful because he just uses the same tone of voice and body language every time he talks

-But once he has feelings for you... he’s going to be way more affectionate with you. Like initiating lots more physical contact, inviting you to a lot of hangouts with him, and even offers to give you your very own custom-made and custom-tailored vehicle to use for your missions and daily life

-I feel like he’d ask you out in a kind-of-casual but also not-too-casual setting. Sort of like a place where friends hang out but where lovers also confess, y’know? My best guess is in a bar or on a secluded rooftop

-When he asks you out he does it in the most casual way. It’s like a ‘hey, I really like you! Wanna go out with me sometime?” While you just sit there being confused and flustered because... the way he said it so casually sounded like he was just asking you to a friend’s hangout with him

-Luckily for Albatross, you knew that he was asking you out on a date and not on a hangout. And when you say yes, the biggest smile appears on his face and he tackles you into the biggest hug you’ll ever receive

Doc:

-Hmmm he will give a lot of mixed signals

-When Doc had feelings for you, he was in denial for the longest time for sure. He didn’t understand why his chest was tight around you, or why his heart raced so much whenever you talked to him. This caused him to be curt when he didn’t want to be, and it was evident to the rest of the Flags that Doc felt something towards you

-It went on for a while until the others confronted him about it. And after some help from Lippmann, he found out that he apparently had feelings for you. Great.

-More denial + more confusion for several more weeks, but I feel like he’ll come to terms with his emotions after a while finally

-It will be simple when he asks you out. Probably while he’s treating you in the infirmary or when he’s all alone with you. He actually confesses pretty straightforwardly and asks you to go out with him, and you can actually see the nervousness in him

-When you say yes though... the rest of the Flags are all going to breathe a sigh of relief because they do not want to deal with a heartbroken Doc (trust me you wouldn’t want to either)

Iceman:

-Probably another clueless one, but unlike Doc, he’s quick to ask for help on why he was feeling this particular way when he’s around you

-The rest of the Flags can’t believe it. The cold-blooded and cool Iceman actually has feelings for someone?! Albatross couldn’t stop talking about it until Iceman threatened him with a pool stick if he wouldn’t shut up

-Okay but even though he’s still his own self when he likes you, if you observe him closely you’ll see that he treats you differently than anybody else. Like helping you carry all your stuff, listening to you talk for as long as you want, and just wants to help you all the time

-It’s a long time before the rest of the Flags start encouraging him to ask you out. You see, I feel like Iceman is the type to let you confess to him, because he doesn’t know if you reciprocate his feelings for you. Plus he doesn’t want to pressure you to make a decision and feel bad afterwards if you reject him

-In a last attempt to get him to ask you out, Pianoman uses his position as the leader of the Flags to order him to confess. You know things get desperate when even Pianoman has to use his rank to order the Flags to do something

-So Iceman actually does do that, but he takes so damn long to drop the actual question. He takes you out on a lovely walk, where there’s nobody and the scenery is beautiful and it’s a perfect day for lovers to spend time with each other. You enjoy this, but you wonder why he was doing this for you

-It’s after a few hours when he finally asks you out. You were a bit surprised, but you gladly accepted with a smile. The Flags took a few pictures in the distance and Pianoman was smiling in relief when he saw that Iceman finally did it

Lippmann:

-Another hot-fancy-suave-smooth-whimsy-fastidious-extra-fickle mafioso, but he’s a bit more charming and less extra okay I lied he’s as extra as Pianoman lmao sorry

-He’s actually not that dense when it comes to feelings? I mean he must’ve acted in a lot of romance movies because he’s too pretty so he should know the ‘tell-tale’ signs of a crush

-But when he falls for you though... he’s not going to be that obvious about it. Meaning that he’s just going to be his normal self around you and hide his feelings. And he’s so damn good at it because he’s a top-class actor, so nobody really suspects anything

-Expect him to flirt with you and drop some pickup lines and elegant quotes under the guise of ‘practicing his script’, but sometimes you wonder if he’s doing it because he likes you he does

-Okay but his pickup lines and elegant quotes about your attractiveness are so well done and smooth that they make you blush a bit sometimes. Your blush just fuels Lippmann’s confidence damn that pretty bastard

-When he decides to confess to you... he’s going to make it extra fancy. Take you to somewhere elegant but fun to set the mood. Like a masquerade ball! Then after dancing and socialising with everyone, he takes you to the balcony under the guise of ‘getting some fresh air’

-You were gazing at the pretty sight, smiling, and that’s when Lippmann decides to drop the question. But you bet that he’s going to add in a long, cheesy, fancy and elegant quote about how he loved you since the day you met and how you managed to capture his heart because of your attractiveness. Then he finally asks you out

-You were blushing so much by the end of it, but when you say yes, that’s when Lippmann smiles and gives you a small kiss and he’s damn good at it

I’m so so so so SO sorry that this took over a month oh my gosh 😭

@pixyys @pianotross @angolicious @chuuyas-beloved @sariel626 @nekokinax @xxelfmamaxx @yuugen-benni @lakeside-paradise @yukitomybeloved @voyagewiththesatan @arisu-chan4646 @catzlivedforbsd @irethepotato

[bunnyinthestars]

Adrien is definitely gonna take Emilie’s place in a coma (A Theory)

Yeah so I mean the title of this is exactly what I’m pretty sure is gonna happen. This is because there has been a huge load of foreshadowing and some other subtler reasons I will be going over in this post. Of course, there’s always a chance it won’t happen, but if it didn’t I think I’d be pretty surprised considering just the amount of evidence thats going into this.

(Also sorry ahead of time for the structure of this, I tried to structure this based on my specific reasons for this theory but I kind of went off on tangents in some places and in others I use ideas that I assume come with the theory and don’t necessarily fit into any specific reason (like Emilie coming back to life and what would happen there, why Adrien and not Nathalie, and loosely how theyd get Adrien out of the coma), although I mosty stick to the structure I still want to add this disclaimer just so you’re aware that I wrote this in one go at midnight (also wait right now its 12:10am it is now ten minutes into my birthday??? ok ignoring that))

I dont know man. Just consider what I have to say. Or dont. I will be listing my reasons starting now.

1. Imagery of Adrien being in comatose state/ in a coffin-like thing.

This is surprisingly common??? Off the top of my head I can think of Style Queen and Riposte (I believe) which involve this. In Style Queen, Audrey in the form of her akumatized self had essentially kidnapped Adrien and put him in this gold/glass coffin thing that disintegrated the longer it remained untouched. The other one is Riposte, where Ladybug hides Adrien in that big sarcophogus in the Louvre (he didn’t stay in it but still the imagery is there.)

I also just remembered in Chameleon when Lila took Adrien’s form he was asleep/in a comatose state in that locker and Plagg was like “aw man am I gonna have to kiss him.....” but then Adrien wakes up because Lila stole someone else’s form

EDIT: another instance of Adrien/Chat Noir being shoved into a sarcophagus (besides Riposte) is in Pharaoh in season 1

So yes there is definitely a good number of foreshadowing for this. I might take this further and say if Adrien were to go comatose and be in the coffin Emilie was in then Felix might replace him for some amount of time?? Like impersonate him amd stuff?? Just because there’s lots of stuff in the show with impersonation I feel like it could work aNYWAY BACK TO THE EVIDENCE I KNOW ITS A TANGENT

2. Possible evidence foreshadowing Emilie *inadvertantly* killing (not killing but making comatose you get it) Adrien

This one is not as strong as the first but its worth considering. I was googling the word “mayura” just out of curiosity a while back and basically its a peacock in Hindu stories (like peacocks are a kinda revered animal) and I just initially found a couple websites that said that the mayura has been depicted eating a snake as a symbol of the cycle of time (you dont have to read this part in parenthesis, its just kind of a tangent: the cycle of time as known in Hinduism is another aspect of Hinduism directly referenced in the show: the horse/space miraculous kwami Kaalki’s name is a reference to the prophecied tenth avatar/reincarnation of the god Vishnu, and he is referenced in the Kalachakra tantra which is basically a Hindu book about the cycle of time. Keep in mind I got all this from wikipedia and other internet websites, I do not practice Hinduism and I dont directly know anybody who does, so if any of this is wrong pls lmk because there is surprisingly not a lot of information on the internet about it from what I could tell)

So anyways yes peacock (mayura) eating snake representing the cycle of time. Both Luka and Adrien are represented in the show as the snake, but ultimately I think the snake here represents Adrien just because it makes more sense (Snake Noir, future Alix’s tattoo depicts a snake to be Adrien and is meant to represent Adrinette, Adrien just has some shifty stuff going on with the snake in general etc) and thus, if Gabriel manages to actually get the ladybug and black cat miraculouses and make the wish to bring Emilie to life, then this “mayura” analogy (assuming Emilie as the mayura in this scenario) would make sense if her life brought upon Adrien losing his.

The reason I dont think it would refer to Nathalie even though her official name is Mayura is for pretty much two sub-reasons. The first is that I think she is going to die before this wish happens. I know, its a kids show, whatever, but consider it. The Agreste/Graham de Vanily family has a trend of having opposite names [I am so sorry I literally first heard this from a tumblr user but I cannot remember who I just remember they had made a string of theories on why Emilie Agreste will not be who she seems to be so credit to them I did not discover that] for example the name Gabriel means hero/angel, Felix means happy/fortunate, Adrien means dark, etc, and Nathalie Sancoeur means “birthday (of Christ)” and “heartless” respectively. We already know she is not heartless but rather full of heart because she has fallen in love with Gabriel. So then,,,,,,,,,, the opposite of birth is death. She’s already shown to be pretty sick too despite the peacock miraculous having been “fixed” (as of the New York special being the most recent piece of content). I’m sorry guys I do not make the rules

stop why his face look like that though

The second part of why I think this is a little stupid but. The original art released by Jeremy Zag for Mayura does not look like Nathalie. Plus this art was only released under the name of “the Peacock” (originally Le Paon in French) so it might not actually be the Mayura we know as of now. Now, theoretically, it could be that they had made this art before they knew they wanted Nathalie to be Mayura or just as art depicting what Emilie would have been like as the peacock miraculous holder, and it could literally just be Nathalie. When you compare the images, though, the original Mayura art looks far more like Emilie and a lot less like Nathalie. Yes I am aware this is stupid just know this is only a minor point

I dont know man those faces do not look the same to me and the original Mayura definitely had Emilie’s eye shape and face shape in mind. They might’ve changed it after making the concept art but my point still stands

Ok next reasoning

Again not a very strong point but sometimes dialogue just implies things in Miraculous and I can think of a very specific quote that would fit this happening, and there are probably more that I just dont know to look for since I dont have this whole show memorized

So the quote is from Startrain after Gabriel loses control of the akuma then learns about the Startrain having been akumatized with Adrien on board, and he says “hoping that my enemies will save my son..... how ironic.” When I first heard this quote I really, really felt like it was foreshadowing something just based on his tone and the way this new idea was being introduced of him having to be on the same side as Ladynug and Chat Noir for once, even if it was just temporary. This quote absolutely is indicative to me of a future event in which he’ll have to work with his “enemies” to save his son. A situation in which Adrien is in comatose would perfectly align with this. At least for how I would predict the show would make it, Gabriel would have to turn away from Emilie (who represents the past for him, and this action would therefore represent moving on) and join forces with Ladybug/Marinette, his “enemy”, to save Adrien.

Onto the last reason!

Emilie is probably definitely coming back. Which means someone’s going into a coma in her place.

I mean come on it would be so anticlimactic if they just caught Gabe before he fulfilled his wish. Plus with the way they are outlining Emilie to be this perfect golden being is definitely because its going to far contrast with how she will actually turn out. This doesnt really support the Adrien thing in particular but honestly it would also be anticlimactic of the coma was for anyone else. If it was Nathalie, then yeah itd suck for Adrien I guess but like???? Doesn’t really connect the plots as much. Whereas if its Adrien, that brings Marinette into it, that gives her a powerful as heck conflict. Im guessing they would also somehow resolve his coma with “the power of love” mentioned in the theme song, just because of the foreshadowing with like waking someone up with a true love’s kiss (think Plagg in Chameleon, I guess the rose in Style Queen, maybe Alya’s story to Manom in Stormy Weather if we’re strecthing it....)

TL;DR: Adrien is probably gonna go comatose (like Emilie did) at some point because its been pretty foreshadowed (think Style Queen, Riposte, and even Chameleon), because of the legend surrounding the Hindu “mayura” peacock eating a snake representing time (wow that was not a sentence ok then), because Gabriel has previously foreshadowed having to work with his enemies to save his son, and also just because it would be super awesome and allow each character involved to have a pretty fulfilling conflict and arc.

(all images from the miraculous ladybug wiki excluding the piece of art depicting the mayura which is from murugan.org)

I hope however took the time to read this post enjoyed this theory, sometimes I have really random yet detailed theories regarding this show and I wanted to share this one because if I’m right then this will be proof I had predicted it, also you guys could possibly elaborate on it. I’m all for friendly discussions folks fr

If this doesn’t end up happening the theory is still awesome and they should have done it, and if it does my ego will probably expand and hopefully they will make it as awesome as it seems like it would be. Sorry if the structure of this post is not great, but thank you for reading. I appreciate you, have a wonderful week :)

[ageofevermore]

Riders On The Storm

SUMMARY — stiles stilinski wasn’t in love with lydia martin, he just didn’t remember the blue eyed girl taken by the lightning. 

WORD COUNT — 5k

WARNINGS — mentions of death, ghost riders, kidnapping

NOTE — this was originally going to be a full length series, but then I couldn’t think of a complete concept. so enjoy this lil thing. pls let me know what you think 

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ﾟ: *. ☽ .* : ☆ﾟ. ─────

Stiles was lost.

His head was heavy on his shoulders, disoriented for a reason he couldn't place. His lips tasted strangely of coconut and carmex — which didn't seem right either — without fault strawberry and burts bees struck his memory harshly.

Lydia. Lydia. Lydia. Lydia. Luna.

Her name was like a whisper in his mind, urging him to recall wisps of chestnut hair and ocean eyes. His head was heavy on his shoulders, strawberry blonde hair turned brown. The image was drawn on the back of his eyelids without consent, a disgruntled moan slipping from his lips at the sight.

Jackson Whittemore. Jackson Whittemore. Jackson — Luna Miller.

Nothing made any sense to Stiles as his eyes snapped around the trivial train station, trying to make sense of the cobwebs and town names. The travelers beside him were captivated in a daze, dressed in scrubs and suits with no recollection of the destination they sought.

Stumbling from the bench towards a ticket booth, Stiles felt his lungs stiffen at the layers of dust adorning the rickety booth. His fingers swiped at the wood, pulling away with mountains of abandonment on his fingers.

Brushing his fingers off in a fit of desperation, Stiles is taken aback by the oncoming announcement. Rows of comatose eyes fall prey to the hypnotizing announcer, standing from the benches in a shared trance. His heart was beating heavily in his chest at the sight, his words falling upon deaf ears when he asked panicky for directions and clarification.

He passed a few familiar faces — none that held any meaning to him — but he'd identified them as victims minutes ago, and their glazed over glances only added to the sickness coiling in his stomach. Wind swept across his face, particles of debris compiling below his eyes and tangling in his lashes. Hooves broke apart the tranquility of the silence, and soon what was a maze of mindless followers erupted into a village of traumatized patrons.

Stiles watched as horses rode in, whips cracking at any sign of rebellion. Faceless terrorizers dropped yet another victim into the crowd, path set towards Stiles when he was abruptly pulled out of the way. His heart was heavy as it raced, eyes clouded over with tired tears.

As quickly as the chaos came it vanquished, and left alone were comatose victims awaiting yet another moment of hypnosis. Stiles was shoved into abruptly, his whiskey gaze falling from the blue of Peter's eyes to the crown of chocolate hair. Expecting the worse, Stiles was speechless in the face of vacant Prussian blue eyes.

THEN

Her breath fanned against the air as she passed yet another row of eerie trees. Her calves burned from the miles she trekked, but she couldn't stop now, not when she was so far from home. Tightening her ponytail, she rounded yet another curve, the path disappeared beneath her feet and instead turned to a mushy field of grass and twigs. Slowing down to slight jog, the trees stopped meshing together, allowing for a beam of light to shatter what was once complete darkness.

Two gasps shattered the silence, eyes meeting in a fleet of panic. Stiles Stilinski looked guilty beneath the moonlight, his usual troublemaking attitude in full effect. His hands were clammy as he grabbed at the girls forearms, his eyebrows pinched in worry.

"Luna?" Stiles asked, equally as confused as the girl under question. "Shit." Stiles cursed, pulling Luna behind him without question just as a K9 officer broke through the trees, a flashlight blinding Luna as she tumbled to the ground, pulling Stiles with her.

The dog's nasty snarl had her whimpering in fear, the mud beneath her palms cold and unpleasant. Stiles wasn't much better beside Luna, though he wasn't as startled by the compromising position. His elbow was pressing against Luna's stomach, a circle shaped bruise sitting beneath the pressure he was applying.

At the sound of his father's approaching voice, Stiles pulled himself up off of the forest floor, offering a shaky hand to Luna who was anything but prepared for yet another blinding flashlight shining unapologetically in her eyes. When Luna was on her feet, their contrast height difference was noticed, the girl having to look up at the Stilinski to offer him a small smile of thanks.

Stiles scratched at the back of his neck when he flashed his gaze towards his visibly angered father, "Dad, how are you doing?"

"So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?" He pondered, lowering the flashlight when he noticed the girl beside his son softly lean away from the steady golden beam.

"No, heh. Not the boring ones." Stiles was only digging himself into a deeper hole, his hand continuing to nurse an injury on the back of his neck. It was definitely a sight to see. The son of the Sheriff cowering away from law enforcement, stalking around the woods with his own agenda.

"Now, where's your usual partner in crime?" The Sheriff barely even turned his gaze to Luna, instead looking off in the distance in search of his son's best friend.

Luna found it cute that Scott and Stiles had remained so close throughout the troubling years of middle school, their close nit bond reminding her of Harry and Ron. If Beacon Hills were Hogwarts Luna was sure they'd fall into the same comedic category.

"Who, Scott? Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow. It's just me. In the woods. Alone." Stiles' words fell upon deaf ears, especially considering the short brunette beside him.

The Sheriff just turned back to the woods, his light reflecting off of trees. "Scott, you out there? Scott? Take Luna home, and when I get back, you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy."

"I can just walk." Luna softly informed the pair, not wanting to overstep a boundary when she wasn't even sure where the line was drawn for Stiles. She was almost positive that he didn't want a stranger sitting shotgun in his jeep when his best friend was alone in the woods.

"Stiles will take you home." The Sheriff left no room for argument, his eyes hardening on his son who just lowered his gaze, raising an arm and motioning for Luna to follow him.

Luna Jensen followed Stiles Stilinski back to his jeep, a feeling deep within her stomach telling her she wouldn't be able to untangle herself from his presence anytime soon.

NOW

Stiles felt frozen beneath a blanket of sophomore year memories, the whisper in his mind suffocated by guilt. The coconut on his lips began to burn, his eyes filling with regret the moment his gaze dropped to her glossy strawberry tinted lips.

He couldn't remember a moment past junior year that was spent in her embrace. Her shy smile and breathy laugh was like a rhapsody of someone else's lifetime before his eyes as memories overcame his mind.

THEN

Luna shuffled to her seat quickly, ignoring the laughs that followed her as she took a seat besides Stiles, Allison ironically filling the only other empty seat beside her and behind Scott McCall. Luna frowned in confusion when she watched Scott twist around, handing Allison a pen without question.

Without thinking too much of it, she twisted in her seat to glance at Stiles, fighting off a smile as she watched the boy drum his pencil against his claimed desk. Luna reached out, striking the Stilinski quickly, not wanting to rile up Curtis within the first three minutes of class. Stiles' eyes snapped towards her, grabbing at his arm, a wounded frown tugging at his lips as his eyes didn't leave Luna's. A gentle lingering of warmth from her poke spread down his arm, making the rest of his body tense at the contrast to the cold winter air.

Luna passed the boy a note she'd written the night prior, hardly able to sleep thinking about how much trouble she must have gotten him into. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Greenberg, the jock twisting in his seat to send Luna a suggestive wink that had her stomach coiling in disgust.

Turning away from Stiles, Luna let her attention settle on Mr. Curtis, already longing for the day to end.

NOW

When had she been taken?

Stiles was overcome with panic, hands tightening around Luna's forearms despite her glazed attention span and heavy hands. She was a pawn before him, hardly conscious enough to recognize that her arms were being massaged by calloused fingertips aged with tender care.

"Moony?"

Gentle blue eyes fell upon his, a gasp shattered her silence. Head a mess of memories, Luna leapt into Stiles' awaiting arms like it was the only move she could make. Her fingertips pulsed at the close contact, thighs quivering in exhaustion.

How long had it been since she had hugged anybody?

Stiles held her tightly, unbothered by the lingering scent of Jackson on her sweater. It was all coming back to him now. The late night messages to London had strained against them for weeks, but Luna had been desperate to escape Allison's death and visit her cousin in England. She had been whisked away with Isaac and Argent, and texted so frequently Stiles was worried about his phone bill.

She had gone radio silent for about a week he could remember, but then it had all faded. His mind was no longer plagued with worry for his heavy hearted girlfriend, and his camera roll was void of her pictures. Like a dreamscape memory Luna Miller faded from his mind, being replaced with Lydia Martin and a third grade fifteen-year love scandal.

"Stiles?"

He couldn't find her name on his tongue, enthralled by her effortless beauty. His heart was hit with guilt, stomach coiling at the thought of his lips against Lydia's. His hands were growing clammy against Luna's skin, enforcing a fear across her already petrified heart.

"Stiles? Where am I?" Her tone was cloudy with fear, pale blue eyes still the same innocent shade of sixteen years old.

Her seventeenth birthday had passed months ago, a forgotten milestone scribbled across his calendar. Though, Stiles figured time didn't move in the parallel universe they were trapped within. His girl was still only sixteen, and her heart hadn't healed from the trauma that was void.

She had just barely managed to mend her heart when it came to Jackson Whittemore.

THEN

When the day had ended, Luna and Allison separated. While the latter of the pair got to escape to her locker, Luna was held back by her math teacher, the women wanting to play a round of twenty questions in relation to Luna's rising GPA. Just barely able to escape the women, Luna cringed at the sight displayed before her. Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore had Allison cornered. Her soft smile was anything but genuine as she nodded along to Jackson's words, eyes dancing across the hallway to smile at Scott McCall.

Just as Luna made an advance towards the trio, Jackson's jaw clenched and he turned away, pulling Lydia with him. The redhead didn't take well to the abrupt departure, grabbing at Allison's hand and pulling her along forcefully. A frown settled onto Luna's lips as she watched yet another person get dragged away from her by her sexually frustrated and immensely immature cousin.

Scott and Stiles had watched the scene unfold before their eyes, wishing they hadn't as the crestfallen gleam on Luna's face was enough to make their own hormonal hearts tremble. Stiles was stuttering over his thoughts as he tried to find Luna's name on the tip of his tongue, but by time he had managed to collect himself, Luna had disappeared down the hallways.

Luna wiped at her eyes when a tear fell down her check, her fists clenching at her sides. She was stupid to think Jackson would let her have Allison. He had pulled everyone else away from her without a care, spread a rumor so vile even Erica Reyes refused to speak to her. He made her a laughing stock, all because her parents hadn't taken him in after his died.

Jackson Whittemore had ruined Luna Millers's life, all because he no longer wanted to be family.

NOW

"Your hands are bigger." Luna's words were so soft, afraid of being dismantled by the violence of surrounding hostages that even standing so close to Stiles felt like they were miles apart, "How did your hands get so big overnight?"

His breath caught in his throat when Luna so brokenly held her hand against his, her fingers barely brushing against the indent of his second knuckle. Funny how a moment could mend a mile and yet months had grown between Luna and Stiles. 

Stiles wasn't prepared with knowledge on how he could possibly explain all of this to Luna. She was so easily broken apart by the injustice of the world, how could he be the one to tell her she was but a ghost to the faces of their friends? 

"Moonlight—" Luna stiffened beneath his clammy hands, blue eyes turning grey with overwhelming confusion. Her stomach was churning by the approaching moment, fingers twisting at the fabric of Stiles' flannel. He only ever called her moonlight beneath the trauma of supernatural misfortune. 

"Don't call me that." She was fearful in his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest as if the rhythm of his heart rate could pull her from this nightmare, "That means somethings wrong. What's wrong, Stiles?"

Stiles cradled her head against his chest, eyes closing at her intimate closeness. Betrayal was a friend they knew too well, trapped between it and grief. Loss was a part of their obligated heroism, and yet so much had been stolen from Luna. 

"Luna," Stiles didn't even know where to begin, "You remember the song Riders On The Storm, right?" 

THEN

Cold feet pressed against Stiles' side, his face smothered by the four body length pillows adorning his girlfriends bed. Her cloudy white blankets were gathered at the foot of the bed, dressed with matching grey throw blankets. He wondered how she could spend a night surrounded by so many objects, but one look at her exhausted frame addressed his confusion.

Her blue eyes were barely open as she pushed against his side, teeth chewing at the fabric of his lacrosse hoodie. Her cheeks were painted with the remnants of summer, and at any moment they were bound to get a text from Scott. Stiles couldn't worry himself with Scott, too invested in Luna's blissful innocence. 

"Gonna bite a hole through my hoodie, Moon." He teased, fingers wiggling against her ankles to capture her attention. Her gaze was hooded, a lazy smile pulling at her lips. She snuggled deeper into the bedding, not bothered by the fluffy white blanket that fell before her eyes. "Come up here, sleepy." 

Luna complied, dramatically, but nonetheless let her body mold against Stiles'. The damp sleeve that was once between her teeth now rested on his bare chest, sending shivers down his spine. His fingers poked and prodded at her sides, desperate to bring yet another gleaming smile to the surface before she succumbed to exhaustion. 

"Girl you gotta love your man." Luna tiredly stressed against Stiles, her fingers curling into the ringlets at the nape of his neck. She pulled lightly, basking in the gentle groan he let out. His lips pressed against her temple for a moment, sweet sparks igniting in her belly. 

"Are you seriously quoting Riders On The Storm?" Stiles scoffed gently, slipping his hand beneath the hoodie on her torso, happy to find that she had stripped of her undershirt. The gentle skin of her torso was hot against the cold of his hand, yet Luna didn't flinch away. She could never bear to pull away from Stiles even if his skin lefts third degree marks against her skin. 

Luna yawned deeply, "Your dad was singing it at the station." Stiles just rolled his eyes, pressing a string of sweet kisses to Luna's face. 

His lips were the last thing she felt before sleep overcame her. 

NOW

Luna was horrified, to put it simply. Pale blue eyes usually brighter than stars danced between Stiles and Peter, hoping that beneath her melancholy gaze one of them would break and revel in their poor sense of humor. The laughter never came, though.

"A year?" She wept, pressing harder into Stiles' side when her eyes began to burn. "I've been gone a year — Allison's been gone a year?" 

Stiles' breath caught in his throat at the mention of Allison Argent. The bitter sweet moment of Scott scribbling her initials across the silver metal of the book shelf was well deserved in his memory, and yet to Luna, it was forced and rushed and harsh against Allison's gentle memory. 

"They don't remember me?" Luna whimpered, lower lip quivering beneath the heavy weight of forced abandonment. "You didn't remember me?" 

The air was thin around Luna and Stiles, clinging to their heartbreak and creating oceans of mistreatment. Luna was inching closer to a breakdown, eyes stormy with lightning like anger. Stiles flinched away from her hard expression, thumbs wiping at the tears that painted her cheeks. 

"Let's go." Luna seethed, pulling away from Stiles' embrace despite her overwhelming want to just collapse against his chest and let her life leave her body in the form of salty tears. "We're getting the fuck out of here." 

Much to Luna's disappointment, departure wasn't easily achieved. 

She had sobbed against the unmoving doors for minutes before Stiles pulled away, only to become completely hysterical when Trent fell to the ground in a heap of green, turning to ash before her eyes. 

"Luna — Luna!" Stiles grabbed at her face, forcing her eyes on him when her sobbing became worrisome. Painted with tears and detrimental panic Luna succumbed to his urges, melting into his embrace with defeat. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

"Not this time, Stiles." Luna sniffled, nose pressing into the base of his neck when she couldn't bear to bring her eyes up to his. Reality was heavy on her chest, creating shadows on the past and what memories could have been made in her absence. "You're already being forgotten." 

THEN

Luna was anything but pleased with the continuous shitty weather London brought. She had been with Jackson for days now, and had seen nothing more then his shirtless boyfriend, and their water painted windows. Not to mention the continuous storm clouds were creating an ache in her bones. 

"Is it always like this?" She whined, sprawled out across the couch with her feet warming Ethan's lap. Her body quivered with every crash of thunder, glassy eyes looking between Ethan and Jackson for clarity that the end would soon come. 

Luna had never liked storms. 

"It should clear up in a day or so, Lovegood." Jackson didn't have to turn around to see the glare Luna sent him. "Do you piss Stiles off every time there's a storm?" He taunted, earning a scoff from his cousin.

"Don't start being an asshole again, Voldemort." She sneered. 

Her eyes traced the interior of the apartment, recounting every decorative piece Ethan and Jackson had secured against the walls. Luna smiled gently when her eyes found an image of two little boys, scarily identical and childishly proud. She would have given anything to acquire such an innocence again. 

Thunder crashed against London, lightning creating shadows on the wall. Growing sick at the sight of three cowboy hats, another strobe of lightning created horses against the wall. Luna cried out, scrambling away from Ethan but unsure where else she could go. 

It only took a moment for a heavily scarred face to find hers in the darkness, a crack of lightning mending with his weapons and collecting Luna in a flash of green smoke. 

In a moment Luna was gone -- from the flat, from London, from memory -- and all that remained of her life was a  birthday reminder scribbled across Stiles Stilinski's calendar five million miles away. 

NOW

"Do you ever sleep?" Stiles worried. Luna was decorated in exhaustion, her gentle blue eyes framed with bruises. Her frail body was curled into his lap, cold hands beneath his shirt and clinging to his torso for warmth. "Looney-Tunes?" He hummed gently, bringing his hand down the small of her back when she didn't answer. 

Luna sniffled quietly, effectively breaking Stiles' heart, and pushed herself farther into his embrace. Stiles cradled her body close, the soft flutter of her eyelashes against his neck creating ripples in his mind. The bond between reality and written reality was breaking apart the longer he held Luna. The mystery of love with Lydia had become a conundrum still unsolved. How had the ghost riders thought Lydia Martin an equivalent to Luna Miller? 

Luna made his heart beat a mile a minute. 

He adored the way she whimpered in her sleep, and always slid her hands beneath his shirt. She stole a new sweatshirt from his closet at least once a week, and at the end of every month, sheepishly she would show up at his doorstep with armfuls of his clothes. She thought she was slick when she sprayed herself with his cologne, or when she purposefully fell asleep in his bed so she didn't have to go home. 

Everything about Luna made him breathless. 

"You don't need sleep here, bubs." She whispered against him, teary eyes tracing the comatose  faces of all her fellow hostages. "Not when you're like them. They don't even realize the trains are never going to come. It's this never ending anxiety, just waiting to board the train. Most of them think they're going home."

Luna yawned against his embrace, struggling to stay awake within his arms. She never wanted to leave his side, content with spending the rest of her life at his side, but she knew sleep was inappropriate at the moment. Her boyfriend was ever the optimist, settling for an eternity of sleeplessness and frozen time was anything but pliable for him. 

"Where did you think about going?" Stiles asked quietly, afraid to disrupt the peace around them. Everything about this moment was eerie, but it belonged to them. 

"Going home to you." Luna smiled gently, tilting her head so she could see the twitch of Stiles' lips. "I couldn't remember anything else. I didn't know my name, or where I had come from. I could only think of getting back to you." 

THEN

Luna Miller was not easily brought to hysterics, yet Stiles had managed to provoke her without fault. Her heart had been heavy for days now, paranoid with the arising chaos scripted by her possessed boyfriend. The moon had risen a handful of times, yet never did she get more than a few hours of sleep filled with nightmares. 

His eyes were filled with tears, hands bound by ropes that threatened his humanity. The man bound before Luna was nothing but a monster wearing her boyfriend's face, and yet she couldn't bear to see those familiar whiskey eyes so sad. 

"Stiles?" She asked gently, setting a hand on his cheek. His complexion was paling by the millisecond, eyes dressed with dark purple rings of exhaustion. Stiles leaned into her forbearing embrace, eyes fluttering closed at the familiar warmth of her skin. 

With a trembling grip, Luna pulled the silver tape from his mouth, expecting a rhapsody and being given a requiem. 

"Really, Luna? I shed one tear, that's all it takes? Come on now, you can't crumble that easily. How are you going to hold up when Stiles sees the truth?" Luna flinched away from Stiles, refusing to even look into his hazy glare. Her heart was pounding, her hands trembling as she scrambled away. "When he finds out you never really wanted him. He was just the only one who didn't see you as a whore." 

Luna stiffened at the old wounds fresh against her bruised skin, chest aching and eyes burning. Stiles, her Stiles, knew how deeply those memories cut. He had spent countless nights easing panic attacks, telling her that eventually it would all blow over and classmates would take her word over Jackson's. He had promised he would never be corrupted by the vile rumors of her willingness to fuck. 

Ignoring the tears that burned her skin, she surrendered to the insults, "Come back to me, Stiles." 

NOW

Discouragement was nothing abnormal for Peter Hale, however his willingness to create doubt had all but shattered Luna's eardrums. She flinched away from Stiles in shock as a high pitched frequency ruptured the silence, the machine by Peter's side wailing in protest. He was no help to Stiles or Luna as they scrambled to find a loophole — a contact to the other side. It was an even bigger inconvenience that in the face of chaos Peter had thrusted himself through the portal, leaving nothing but the scent of burning flesh behind. 

"Stiles." Luna sighed, surrounded by wires and buttons. Hope was dwindling by the passing moment, exhaustion weighing down so heavily her fingers were hard to move. "If this doesn't work--"

"It's going to work." He replied, "It has to."

He was the same over-achieving teenager she had loved a year ago, and yet so clearly had he grown. His eyes didn't shine as brightly as they once had, worn down by the madness that ensued around Beacon Hills. There had been loss, and love, and relationships in the recent year that Luna would never understand. She was in love with a memory, and craving the touch of a ghost. 

"Luna!" Stiles was ecstatic as he called her over, eyes twisted with gentle glee. It was a good look on him, but not the hyper gleam she had known. "Hello?" He spoke into the intercom, words mixed with dread and hope. "Hello, is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

Luna felt herself break apart at the hope in Lydia's voice when she answered, his name a whisper on her lips, "Stiles?"

"Scott? Lydia? Is that you?" Stiles pleaded, bringing Luna closer to his chest when warm relief flooded his veins. "Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"

"You said, remember I love you." 

THEN

Luna's head was heavy. 

Tears had been fresh on her cheeks for days, pain arising every time she thought back to Allison Argent and the way in which she had lost her life. It was a bond unbreakable from the beginning, and yet in less then a year Luna had lost a friend. A part of herself had died with Allison, and the anchor she found in Stiles had been redefined. 

Her suitcase was packed messily, clothes thrown in without a care. Lydia had been appalled at the sight, but had let Luna carry-on without objection. Nobody had taken Allison's death as hard as Luna. 

Stiles had driven Luna to the airport, a stiff silence overcoming them. Luna didn't blame Stiles, she would never be able to, but that hadn't stopped her from remembering that his body had been used to kill Allison. His whiskey eyes had watched Allison crumble, and the minute she fell a smile twisted his lips. 

Stiles Stilinski was covered in blood he hadn't spilled. 

"Remember I love you?" Luna breathed gently against Stiles' lips, relishing in his delicate hold against the harsh winter breeze. 

"Always." 

NOW

Luna was lost. 

Her head was heavy on her shoulders, disoriented for a reason she couldn't place. Her lips tasted strangely of strawberry — which didn't seem right either — without fault burts bees struck her memory harshly.

Jackson. Jackson. Jackson. Jackson. Stiles.

His name was like a whisper in her mind, urging her to recall wisps of charcoal hair and whiskey eyes. Her head was heavy on her shoulders, dirty blonde hair turned brown. The image was drawn on the back of her eyelids without consent, a disgruntled moan slipping from her lips at the sight.

Ethan Steiner. Ethan Steiner. Ethan — Stiles Stilinski.

Nothing made any sense to Luna as her eyes snapped around the trivial train station, trying to make sense of the cobwebs and town names and dusty school books. The travelers beside her were captivated in a daze, dressed in scrubs and suits with no recollection of the destination they sought. 

Like a distant calling, her name was being sung sweetly in her ears. A gentle lulling of warm breath against the shell of her ear caused her to shiver, and when it happened again, her comatose blue eyes shifted beneath her closed eyelids. 

"Moonlight." Her breath caught in her throat with the gentle calling in her mind, eyes fluttering open just in time to witness soft whiskey eyes centimeters from her. 

"Stiles." She gasped, rushing forward when the limpness in her body dulled. Overwhelmed with gratitude, she couldn't help but notice that lurking behind their steady embrace was gentle faces of familiar ghosts. "You did it!" 

Luna pulled away from his embrace, her hands slipping beneath his shirt and tracing patterns on his warm skin. Her smile was proud, blue eyes twinkling with delight. 

"Did you ever doubt I would?" He teased, fingers tracing her cheekbones as his hands cupped her face. Luna let her eyes flutter closed at the feeling of him on her, his breath tickling the tip of her nose. 

Stiles smiled gently, bending down to close the space between them. His lips captured hers innocently, strawberry lip gloss mixing with the waxy moisture of his burts bees chapstick. 

Months had separated them, and yet nothing had changed. Stiles felt at home in her embrace, never wanting to break away from the sweetness of her lips. It was a moment carved on the face of the moon, written in the stars with dreams. It was a moment well deserved, mending heavy hearts. 

Stiles held Luna tightly, never wanting to let her go again.