#just turned to dust with 6 days before i was supposed to leave

[seb-reads31]

Hello! I have a juicy one shot request for you today, full of angst!

It's angel dust x male reader and goes as follows:

Reader and angel were both part of the mafia and secretly became a couple for quite some time but reader died in a shootout a couple of years before angel's death and both angel and reader assume that the other got sent to heaven. Many years pass and by pure chance they meet at a bar but after so many decades in hell they don't really recognize eachother (that and the fact that angel is a spider demon dude helps with him not being very similar to his living self), later that night reader is in bed and he realizes "HOLY SHIT WAS THAT ANTHONY" and immediately runs to the hotel to find angel who also just realized that he met reader just a few hours later. They reunite and cry tears of joy after too many years spent alone in hell

Hope this wasn't too long of a request lol, let me know if i broke any of your rules so that next time i'll be more careful, with that said have a nice day!

Cautions - Drug use, shooting, death, cursing, sad angel 😭, mention of angel oding from drugs, MALE READER - fem DNI this is for the gay guys, crying, both sad and happy, reader being a bartender down in hell, Valentino, SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 6, Angel arguing with Valentino

Type - oneshot

Genre - angst to fluff <33

Comments - Nahh, you're good man. No rules broken yet 🤧 BUT OMG I LOVE THIS it's so cute but it's gonna make me wanna cry 😭 (testing out banners, thoughts? Made by me btw in PicsArt) and omg I'm so sorry for being dead 😔 AND, I'm basing this partially on episode 6 where Charlie goes to Heaven. I low-key hate the ending, it feels rushed but I'll probably end up rewriting it later (I'm gonna start adding word counts ISTG)

Till death do us part

Your whole body felt so hot, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest it almost gave you away. You can barely breath, not wanting to give not only your position away, but Anthony's.

It all went wrong.

The information given to both of you was fake, you were set up. They were gonna kill you and him if you were caught. You only had 3 bullets left in your gun, and there were about 5 guys looking for you and Anthony. Shit...

The two of you were hiding behind large crates, trying to come up with a plan and quick. There was an exit to your right, but it would force you to pass by an open area where the guys hunting you down would see you. Trying to make a run for it wouldn't go well, they would just shoot you down. Trying to lay low would just lead to the inevitable, them catching and beating the both of you half to death. But maybe..

"Damnit!" Anthony softly muttered, breaking your line of thought. "What're we gonna do?" All you could do was look at him, with the softest look in your eyes as you told him the only plan you could think of, "We need a distraction."

He was.. confused for a moment, but he quickly caught on as he saw you prepping yourself to run out the opposite way the exit was, but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. "I- no! I'm not about to let you get yourself killed just to save my ass!" The trembling hand on your shoulder was an easy sign that he didn't want to leave you here by yourself.

"Anthony, we don't have another choice.." You turned around and placed a hand on his cheek as you continued, "we're sittin' ducks here, and I refuse to let you get caught by these fuckers." There was a determined look in your eyes, but also a softness deep down that showed how much you cared for the mafia boss's son.

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to let you die?" Anthony was on the verge of tears, because he knew you were right, but he didn't want you to get caught by his family's rivals just to get beaten or worse.

"I can escape, you just have to believe in me. Can you do that for me, my angel?" You could feel tears prick your eyes as well, but you forced them back with a soft smile as you leaned your forehead against Anthony's, but all he could do was worry and think the worst. But he nodded, giving you one final passionate kiss before he let you go.

"Don't die on me, got that?" Anthony looked stern, but the tears in his eyes told a different story. As you nodded, you could hear the footsteps and jeers of your rivals get closer, this was your only chance to get Anthony, your angel, out of this mess.

You jumped out, letting your last bullets fly strategically as Anthony ran under the radar, through the door, and into the outside as quickly as he could. Every shot he heard made his heart sink, but he still held out hope. You promised him after all.

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

Angel Dust sat straight up in his bed, panting softly as he woke up from that nightmare. The day he lost his everything.

He didn't notice until fat nuggets licked his face to try and comfort him, but tears were running down his cheeks from the painful memories. He remembered that day like it was just yesterday, even after so many years had passed.

Angel sat up, wiping away any left over tears to start getting ready for the day.

After he finished his morning routine, he slowly walked down the stairs to the main lobby of the Hazbin Hotel and was greeted by Charlie's smiling face and overly excited personality.

Her voice was too loud, considering he was still hungover from the night before, but had a new outlook on life and it was thanks to Husk. "Mornin' Char, we doin' anything today?" Angel yawned, stretching both pairs of arms and arching his back slightly.

"Yep! 'Cause I've got some big news for everyone! Speaking of which, could you sit in the main room until I get everyone? I still need to find Alastor and Husker before I announce it." She looked like she could barely contain her excitement as she ran off before Angel Dust could answer. But he shrugged, sitting down on the plush sofa and chose to scroll through voxtigram to pass the time.

About 10 minutes later, Charlie had arrived with Husker in tow, Alastor appearing from the shadows not too long after. "Alright everyone! Today, I would like to introduce you to.." Charlie paused, to build suspense, until she pulled out a strange looking man from somewhere. You. "Our newest patron!"

You waved, albeit awkwardly at the strange group of sinners. You weren't new to hell, far from it, but there were only a few you really recognized. Husker, your bartending buddy from a few years ago that you met at a bar you worked at. And Alastor, him being the radio demon and all.. But everyone else, as far as you knew, you had no history with.

Before you could try leaving the room to escape the awkwardness, Charlie nudged you slightly. "Go on, introduce yourself!" She was so sweet it was hard to say no, if we're also not counting that Vaggie was staring at you with a small glare.

"Uh, hi?" Is how you started, but continued even after you heard Alastor chuckle. And while Angel couldn't help but feel a little.. off when you said your name, it being very familiar, but he shrugged and put on his classic porn star persona as he introduced himself to you.

"Nice to meetcha~ I'm Angel Dust, but you can call me yours," he winked at you as others groaned but you couldn't help but feel as if he was familiar as well.. it was probably nothing though. You did have a dream about how you died last night, so it's just a weird coincidence.

As everyone else introduced themselves, they began to leave, but the ones that stayed were Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husk sort of as he went back to his bar, and Angel Dust following him. You stay in the main part of the lobby as you converse with Alastor and Charlie, them telling you a bit more about the hotel.

Over at the bar, Angel couldn't help but stare at you, barely even touching his drink. "Alright, why are you staring at the new guy?" As much as Husk prided himself on being able to read people, Angel was throwing him off with how quiet he was being, barely registering that Husk spoke to begin with.

"Huh? Oh, he just.. reminds me of someone." He barely looked at Husk when he answered, keeping his puzzled gaze on you. "From when you were alive?" Husk was curious, and he may or may not've noticed how you looked at Angel Dust when you were introduced to the staff and patrons.

Angel nodded, but let out a small sigh. "Meh, I'll think of who he reminds me of eventually." He chugged the last of his drink before standing up, presumably to go to his room. As he began walking, you couldn't help but watch him, wondering why his voice and demeanor was so familiar.

Alastor noticed, and him being him, decided to poke a little fun at you. "Oh my, are we falling for another patron my good fellow?" His static voice made you jump slightly, as he was just sitting quietly as Charlie rambled on before. But you were quick to shake your head, denying the radio demon's claim.

"No, no. He's just.. familiar is all. Probably just deja vu. Besides, my partner when I was alive might be in heaven, he's the only one for me." There was a small smile on your face as you thought of your sweet Anthony, completely unaware of what the future held.

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

A few days had passed, and you and Angel Dust had become pretty good friends. While he would flirt with you on occasion, it was all in good fun.

Everyone in the hotel could see how close the two of you had gotten in the short time you've been here, it would've been impossible to notice! How you two just, clicked. No one could understand why, but you balanced each other nicely.

Angel was already falling into a routine with you, unconsciously of course, but there was always a lingering guilt in the back of his mind as he thought of his lover when he was alive. He was redeeming himself for him after all. No matter what he did over those days, he couldn't help but develop feelings for you.

You felt the same way as Angel, unknowingly. You loved Anthony with all your heart, and just knew he was up in heaven waiting for you. But Angel.. well, he was not only drop dead gorgeous, but he showed his real self with you. It was hard to not fall for Angel's charismatic nature, and it reminded you of Anthony's personality.. odd, but not uncommon. Sometimes people have the same humor, way of talking, and favorite drink as others that they never even knew. Right?

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

It's been a week now, and you and the gang are at the club! Paid by Charlie while she was up in heaven of course.

The night was great! You all were enjoying yourselves with some shots, and watching poor Sir Pentious fail to woo Cherrie Bomb several times.

During the night, you and Angel being the most sober were trying to keep Nifty under wraps as she continuously causes chaos. First she starts raking some loan shark's shots into a garbage bag, then she finds the cleaning closet and tries to steal the chemicals hiding in there, then she's left with Husk who is forced to baby sit her.

And now, Angel and Cherri were getting into a small disagreement, along with Husker.

"Y'know, we can do this fucking shit every fuckin' night!" Cherri yelled over the music in the club. It's clear that Angel was done, Husker included and Niffty was drunk.

But even with Angel's sour expression, she continued. "You don't have to spend all of your off hours 'working on yourself' you little bitch."

Husky was quick to shut that down though. He knows the issue, and he expressed that. "The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's-" he paused, not quite finding the word as Angel looked away, but quickly saw a man that he truly hated. Before Husk could say something, the spider sinner spoke with a grave tone. "Valentino." "Exactly!" Husker finally continued, unaware of who Angel saw, and only you put the pieces together, but didn't want to interrupt what was happening. Not until you needed to though.

"So why don't you-" Husk continued, trying to give Cherri a piece of his mind before Angel stopped him again. "No, Valentino," and he pointed to a large crowd, the moth overlord in the center of it with two others in his arms.

Angel was clearly disturbed, seeing his boss at the club when he's supposed to be relaxing. "Let's get the fuck out of here- come on." He began walking and you followed suit, wanting to make sure Angel wasn't alone. Husker and Cherri can handle themselves after all. But.. "Where's Niffty?"

The question startled Husker, who was holding the bug just moments ago, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her.. going towards Valentino, muttering the word 'bad boy' along the way. "Uhh, Angel?" You quickly pointed out where she went, and Angel's eyes widened even further.

Angel immediately went after her, pushing through the crowd as best as he could, you following right after him. You've heard a story or two from Angel himself about how awful the overlord was, and you refused to let him get his hands on the spider you've gotten so close to.

He was angry, not his usual charming self, pushing and cursing at people with a quieter voice trying to get to Niffty. When he did catch her, it stopped him right Infront of Valentino himself, the man not sparing a second to greet Angel Dust.

"Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here baby?~" he cooed, surprised to see his star at the club as well. "You didn't get enough dick today?" He made a suggestive gesture, clearly teasing Angel even though he knew how hard he worked him earlier.

"Funny." Angel said in a monotone voice, nowhere near amused with the joke or with Valentino. You could tell that he just wanted to take Niffty and get back to the hotel. But Valentino wasn't about to let that happen, not yet. "Who's this chiquita?" Gesturing at Niffty, who was clearly twitching at the thought of getting closer to the 'bad boy.'

"You bringing me fresh meat?" The implication was disgusting, and you almost spoke up when Niffty lunged a bit at Valentino, trying to bite him.

He made another joke, something about a kink, but Angel was clearly tired and just wanted to sleep. "Fuck off Val." He muttered turning to leave but Val was not happy. "Excuse me?"

You expected Angel to just walk, but he doubled down. Which was kind of hot. "I said fuck off!"

"I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain't fucking with any of my friends." He was stern, but setting a very clear boundary. It reminded you so much of.. wait, Anthony?

"You forget who you're talking to?" Valentino was fuming now, not used to Angel fighting back. He quickly stood up, using the smoke of his cigarette to make a chain on one of Angel Dust's wrist, pulling him close. "I own you bitch."

Angel looked scared again, and you stepped closer, ready to throw hands, and Valentino noticed but didn't back down. "Yeah, you do. In the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says."

You were proud of him right now, but also sad. This is your Anthony. The man you were trying to get redeemed for. He was down here in hell, where he didn't belong. "But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off." You saw Valentino raise his hand, going to slap him, and you moved quickly, but not quick enough. "Angel!" You called out, seeing Niffty fling out of his arms and Angel bleeding slightly from the harsh hit.

You wanted to rip Valentino limb from limb, but that wouldn't make it any better for Angel. He needed you, and you needed to make sure that he was okay.

Instead of pummeling Valentino, you went to Angel, pulling him into your arms as you checked his face, just like you did when you both were alive. "Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow." Both you and Angel glared at the moth demon, and you finally had it.

"You may own Angel now, but I swear that I'll make you pay in the future. Watch your back you bald headed fuck."

You gently lifted Angel up to his feet, holding him close as you hear Cherri mutter 'dickhead' behind you, also worried for Angel. "Fuck it, it was worth it." He muttered, leaning into you and wiping the blood from his face away. "You did good kid," Husk said, patting him on the shoulder as you went to Cherri's table. But not before Niffty ripped some of Valentino's neck fluff, making him scream girlishly.

Cherri split off from your group, with Sir Pentious finally returning, and you all went back to the hotel. It had been a long night after all, and you were all laughing along the way.

But when you finally reached the hotel, Husk Niffty and Sir Pentious went to turn in, Angel too but you stopped him. "Hey.. can we talk for a sec?"

Angel thought he had an idea of what you wanted to talk about, so he stayed. "I'm fine, really. You know I'm gonna bounce back, no matter what Val does to me." And while that has been in the back of your mind, you shook your head. "Thanks for the comfort, but that's not it. Angel.. what's your real name?"

If you were right, it would not only fill you with joy, but you'd be so upset. Anthony didn't deserve to be in hell, he was the sweetest person you knew, and was meant to be in heaven. But you held two of his hands nonetheless, giving him both a nervous but hopeful expression.

And Angel.. he was lost, he couldn't tell why you wanted to know his real name, but he also wanted to tell you. "It's.. That's uhm, kinda private babes, why do you wanna know?" He tried laughing it off, even thought about making a weird joke but he could tell that this wasn't the time. "I.. I think we knew each other when we were alive."

You gave his hands a gently squeeze, and unconsciously threaded your fingers with his. "Please.. I just need to know if you're really him." Even though you were desperate, you would never force Angel Dust to tell you. But it didn't hurt to try.

Angel was conflicted. Not just because you were familiar, but he didn't want to be heartbroken if he got his hopes up. He wanted you to be his lover from when he was alive, but he also didn't. You were supposed to be in heaven, and he's supposed to be trying to redeem himself to be with you again. You sacrificed yourself to save him after all, those bastards in heaven would be lucky to have you.

"Anthony." Angel was taking a leap of faith, watching you carefully.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you took one of your hands to place it onto his fuzzy cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb. Then suddenly, you pulled the taller spider into an embrace, fully letting your tears flow down your cheeks.

No words needed to be spoken. All the two of you needed was to be in each other's arms, finally reunited after so many years of believing the other was in heaven. You both sobbed, holding the other tightly as if he'd disappear. And from this moment onwards, you swore silently to protect your angel from anything. No matter the cost.

<3

[caernua]

reminder to check your email during the holiday season otherwise you might wake up 6 days before your 6 month program in another country to discover that you were in fact kicked out due to not responding to emails during the holiday season

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter

|Summary: Your first encounter with Armando; based off of that one scene from bad boys ride or die. | Warnings: Getting shot at/slight suggestive language/Curse words/Slight Movie Spoilers | Trope: One sided interest or Enemies to Lovers| Notes: Hopefully you guys enjoy it's my first-time writing a x reader. | (Y/N/N=Your Nickname)

Here's all the parts I have so far: 1 2 3 4 5 6

______________________________________________________________

After seeing the news about your dad, Uncle Mike, and some guy, you decided to leave work early. Confused on why there all the sudden wanted fugitives,you quickly drive over to Dorns place knowing that he’ll have answers.

Parking your car, you grab your purse and make your way towards his lake house. Since you hang out with him and Kelly 24/7 outside of work, you just walk in without knocking.    Which was a mistake on your end because not even a second later you’re being shot at, and you could hear a few people yell in shock.  Dropping to the floor you curse and yell "It's me stop fucking shooting it’s me Y/N!”  Looking up you see Kelly pointing the gun at the place you were just standing at with a shock expression.  “Girl what the hell you got going on” you said, scared to stand up.  Lowering her gun she said “OMG, Y/N, I’m so so—” Before she could finish you hear “Oh lord, you shooting at my baby!", recognizing the voice you look around to spot your father Marcus, running towards you with a worried look.

As he’s checking over you, you hear him sigh with relief after seeing you were fine. " Dad? what the fuck is going on!", standing up you dust off your nurse uniform, with a confused expression. 

Looking around the room you noticed shocked expressions from Dorn and Kelly who had put her gun down. Spotting Uncle Mike and the man that was with him on the news your eyes squint even more, Tryna put two to two together.    “Y/N/N, aren’t you supposed to be at work, "Marcus says confused on why his daughter was there.  Still shaking up from being shot at you say, “I was at work but when I was making my rounds with my patients, I seen you guys on the news ......but shit! I should be asking the questions! why are you, Uncle Mike and this dude, wanted fugitives …. matter of fact," turning towards the man, "Who are you?”.    Seeing the man smirk he says," Someone you can get well acquainted with.”  Just as you’re about to say something smart, your dad cuts in dramatically "Aye hell nah man! No hitting on my daughter, Mike get your son!” 

Shocked you run your eyes over the Latino man which you can now see have some of Mike's features, “Uncle Mike since when you have a son, and why the hell is he dressed up like a redneck.”  Running your eyes frantically over their forms you back up while pointing your hands at them and say, “matter of fact why are you all dress up like that.”  Feeling your dad pull you aside to calm you down, he explains everything that happened these past few days.    After getting the run down on what was going on, you rub at your eyes with a stressed sigh." So that’s Armando," you said shaking your head "I would’ve pulled my gun out as well if I’ve seen him, dad didn’t he almost kill you and Uncle Mike!", you said feeling frustrated about the situation.  “Y/n,I know this is awkward, but he has evidence to prove that Captain Conrad is innocent.”  Sighing again “Okay, fine but if he tries some shit just know Imma make him taste the rainbow.”  Hearing laughter you look back to see the Latino leaning against the kitchen counter looking at you with a smirk on his face.  Seeing your father look at you with a don’t do it expression made you huff and ignore Armando’s laughter.    Before you could move to grab your purse off the floor your dad stops you again and whispered, "How long Kelly and Dorn been messing around, "letting out a short laugh you say, “For a minute now”  Seeing your father smirk, and send a look to Mike, you knew they were up to no good but chose to ignore it.

Walking to the door to grab your purse and its spilled contents you feel eyes on you, gazing up you see Armando watching you with an unreadable expression. Rolling your eyes you pick up the rest of your stuff, but as you reach for your lip gloss, a hand grabs it.    Looking up your face to face with the Latino himself, annoyed you extend your hand out, while raising an eyebrow.  Watching his amused expression, you sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Boy if you don’t give me my stuff,Imma punch you in the throat." Hearing him chuckle made you more agitated, but you kept your cool. As he holds out the gloss to you with a smirk you huff and reach out to snatch it, only for him to pull it back in a teasing manner.

Looking at him as if he’s grown two heads, you’re about to cuss him out when he says”Demasiado bonita para una boca como esa”.  Furrowing your eyebrows you say “What?”    Armando’s smirk widens as he says, “I said to pretty for a mouth like that.”  Scoffing you snatch your lip gloss out his hands, putting it in your purse as you stand up and say, “First of all, my mouth is only like this because you almost killed my dad not too long ago, and secondly I can say whatever the fuck I want cause last I checked imma grown women.”  Watching his eyes glance down at your body, you hear a low whistle, "You sure are, but if you ever wanna fix that mouth of yours, "he pauses allowing his pretty brown eyes to trail back up to yours,”aquí estaré mami” (I’ll be here mommy) 

Shocked slightly at his boldness, you say “Boy if you don’t get out of m---,” but before you could finish, he was called over by Mike. At first Armando ignores him and continues to admire you until your dad says, “Boy get your ass over here," which made you break eye contact with him and look away.  

Glancing back up you couldn't help but admire his physique as well but as he reaches the others by the computer set up. He glances back to see you staring which resulted in him sending you a wink. Rolling your eyes you turn away with a smirk," You your daddy son for sure," you say to yourself with a smile.

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Notes: Let me know if you guys want a part 2 :) and pls go see the movie it's so good

[rapunzelbro]

A Sacrifice For a Friend Angel Dust x Reader 2

This is super angst sorry not sorry part 3 will be up later in the week or two I decided to switch to story format

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N!” Angel Dust was late. By the time he got to where you were that sick fucks fog pulled you down to who the hell knows where and Angel’s chains appeared before they shattered “Goodbye Angel Cakes, seems like a bitch did actually love you after all..” Valentino just had a smirk, the contract signed with his name, Anthony, suddenly appearing, getting set ablaze as the ashes hit the ground “Enjoy freedom bitch” Valentino disappeared. Angel was just stuck in silence as the tears began to pool up is his eyes “No I no..” he struggled to get his words out, his breathing labored as he slowly begun backing away from the spot you were preciously, staring at the space like he could still see you “this wasn’t- this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen you’re so reckless damn it! You know that right? You just.. you..” his voice was mumbling as it turning into sobs “Why did you leave me Y/n?”

He drank a lot that night, he almost lost all his progress with quitting his drug addiction, he didn’t know what to do. The guilt just consumed him entirely that he just was left questioning why. His room was torn apart out of the frustration he was left in. The rest of the hotel found out about the news later on, they never saw any of the signs of Y/n changing and becoming distant. Part of Husk felt responsible that he didn’t force Y/n to stay at the hotel that night, he knew something was wrong, he knew what stupid shit you’d be willing to do for Angel Dust.

His stubbornness on not getting involved caused all this bullshit to follow through, he didn’t have the heart to tell Angel Dust or any of the hotel. Charlie was the first to go into your room after you were finally gone, the photos on your decorated door remain, ones with you and Angel Dust together, ones you took with the entire hotel. She decided for Angels sake it would be better if she took them down. Entering your room hit her like a rock. It was so empty, like someone was moving out or just moving in, It was nothing like how you had it before. The once pink and glamorous room that resembled a lot of Angels room, was bleak dull and boring. That alone broke Charlie’s heart to see the progress even if it was a little, go away. She remembers when you first arrived how you said you weren’t going to be here long so why the fuck should you decorate? You said you were going to jump here and there, but that’s before you met Angel Dust. You two spent the last two weeks decorating your room to perfection, you were always next to each other and there for each other, she remembers when you first made your decision to stay and try to be redeemed. She had such a proud smile and had a cake in celebration, that was captured in the photograph that once was on your door. But now you were just gone. She could only worry about Angel Dust and how she had to be strong for his sake.

Angel didn’t leave his room for days and that’s when Husk went to investigate, he wanted to give him time but if he didn’t come out soon he wasn’t sure what would happen. He didn’t knock, he just opened the door to see multiple bottles of liquor on the ground, he’d lie if he said he wasn’t relieved there wasn’t any drugs in that mix, he didn’t want to see him go that far down. Angel was just on his bed with Fat Nuggets cuddles up to him, as he just laid there silent. “Angel” Husk started before Angel visibly tensed up “The fuck do you want? Haven’t you heard of knocking” he didn’t bother to look at him, he didn’t want to look at anyone. “You’ve been up here for two days, what the fuck I want, is to make sure you’re okay” Husk replied annoyed crossing his arms looking at his silhouette. Angel didn’t respond to him for a while but Husk remained in place waiting for whenever he is ready “Why… why did Y/n do it Husk? Please tell me.. why would they do this..” Angel weakly said, trying to not break out sobbing again “Angel I wish I had the answer to that, but you knew how crazy Y/n could be, they said it once before at the bar, they would risk their life for those they loved. Y/n did just that..” Husk tried to explain before Angel jerked up glaring at the man “I never asked them to! Do you remember me ever fucking saying that shit!” He yelled, startling Fat Nuggets who jumped off the bed and retreated elsewhere “No but they knew you wanted out. Y/n was the one who took care of you and knew the most. Y/n’s room still has their stuff in it.. I didn’t know if you wanted in there but if you wanted to go through her remainings you can.. there’s food downstairs if you decide to head down there” Husk left after that and Angel just sat up wiping his tears standing up and going into the mirror. God he looked like shit, he would be caught dead if anyone saw him like this under his contract with Valentino, but now he doesn’t have to worry about it. He doesn’t have to worry about coming home bloody and bruised. It still didn’t make any sense to him why you did what you did. He left the room after trying to fix his appearance, he didn’t care as much right now as he went to your room. His heart ached more the closer he got to your room, he didn’t see the photos there anymore, the ones with the hotel all together and the ones with him and you. When he opened the door he instantly started sobbing when he saw your stuff in boxes and the once lively room looking absolutely lifeless. He tried to look through the boxes but it only caused him to break down more. He didn’t know if his heart would ever recover..

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness @fizziepopangel

[doumidas-whumps]

no longer in solitude

Porter's first impression of Sonny, the new pet.

a little something from Port's POV this time (and by "a little something" I mean 2000 words). this is the night Sonny is brought to his new home.

consider this a sort-of prequel to this.

cw: BBU/pet whump, abusive master, whumpee emotionally attached to whumper

All day, the house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. It made Port a little twitchy. It seemed quieter than usual today, quiet enough that the florescent lights buzzing in his ears were making him sick. He had to step out of the bathroom halfway through cleaning the shower, scrubbing brush abandoned by the drain. He rinsed his hands and pressed his cool, clean palms to his eyes. Memories of lying alone in that cold, featureless room in the facility flashed behind his eyelids. 

He tried to think of something else, his master coming to mind easily. He had left for work that morning without a word to Port, just as he had the past two days. Mr. Oz hadn’t been speaking to him lately. In fact, he’d barely even looked at him.

Maybe something at work was bothering him. Did his boss yell at him? Could it be that the coworker he always complained about was getting on his nerves? Maybe it was unrelated to work; maybe he had lost more money at the casino. The last time that had happened, Mr. Oz lost two grand playing blackjack or poker or whatever it was and when he came home he threw one of his shoes at Port’s head. Port dodged it on instinct, which just made him angrier. Though come to think of it, Port hadn’t had any projectiles thrown at him, lately, so maybe it wasn’t that.

The grandfather clock started chiming, shaking Port out of his uneasy thoughts. He took a grounding breath and reentered the bathroom. 

After the bathroom was the living room. He pulled the remote out from between the couch cushions, itching to turn the TV on for some background noise. He set the remote in its proper place on the glass coffee table, next to a box of playing cards. He didn’t have permission to watch TV today. 

Lately Mr. Oz had been getting home around 7:00, so Port started dinner at 6:30. Talking to him over dinner was usually the most exciting part of Port’s day, but the two previous nights he had taken his dinner up to his room, leaving Port to clean up in silence. He hoped today would be better.

Dinner was finished by 6:55. He left it on the stove on low heat. When Mr. Oz still wasn’t home by 7:20, Port put it in the fridge. He had already cleaned the the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the living room, the kitchen, even under the fridge, under the oven, and the tops of the doorways. He supposed the bookshelf could do with some dusting. 

When Mr. Oz still wasn’t home by 9:00 and Port had truly run out of productive things to do, he grabbed the playing cards from the coffee table and kneeled on the Persian carpet, arranging them for a game of solitaire. Mr. Oz had never explicitly forbid him from playing card games, so Port figured it was okay as long as he put everything away before he got back. 

By the time the clock chimed for the second time since he’d started playing, marking 11 o’ clock, Port was starting to get concerned. It wasn’t uncommon for his master to stay out after work, but 11:00 P.M. was far later than usual, especially on a Thursday night. 

Port had been in the living room for hours, having long since adjusted to a more comfortable sitting position. His current game was not going well. Stuck, Port listened to the ticking clock while he tried to figure out how to salvage it. It was hard to think when his eyes were drifting closed. He had gotten up at 5 A.M. that morning, like usual, and he wasn’t allowed to sleep until his master turned in for the night.

Port gave up on the game and rested his elbows on the coffee table, shifting the cards underneath his arms. He stared at the blinking colon of the digital clock under the TV, willing himself to stay awake. He should probably get up and move around, but the combination of the blinking and the ticking had a hypnotizing effect.

Just as the clock blinked to 11:08, he heard the garage door screech open and jerked awake. Port hastily gathered the cards into a stack and slid them into their box. He rose to his feet and padded to the side door to greet his master, where he waited eagerly, a smile already on his face. 

The door swung open and Mr. Oz stepped through into the yellow light of the hall. His cheeks were ruddy, teeth visible in a grin. Port found it encouraging.

“Welcome home,” Port greeted. “How was your—”

Port was startled as another figure appeared out of the darkness in the doorway behind him. His first split-second thought was that it was one of his master’s friends, as it wasn’t unusual for him to invite people over. The thought was dashed as soon as he spotted the supple black collar around the figure’s neck. 

It was a boy— a young man— who stepped into the hall, eyes cast down. Port couldn’t see his features too well at this angle— only his shining black hair, which was neatly parted down the middle of his scalp. 

Port realized his mouth was still open and shut it. Once he pulled his eyes away from the pet he noticed that Mr. Oz was looking at him, eyes glimmering. “Porter, this is Sonny.” He clapped the boy on the back, who visibly jumped. (A sign of poor training.) “He’ll be helping you out around the house.”

Every question running through Port’s mind was cut short. Was he saying what Port thought he was saying? “Sir, do you mean…?”

“That’s right! You get to have a little playmate, doesn’t that sound great?”

Port blinked.

Mr. Oz was looking at the pet with some sort of fondness. “I’ve had my eye on him for a while now… you should’ve seen the look on David’s face.” His hand moved to the pet's neck, whose shoulders raised higher. “I’m gonna get him a collar like yours,” Mr. Oz said, hooking a finger under the nylon. “So you can match.”

Some buzzing feeling was spreading through Port. His chest was shivering. He felt his smile grow wider. He clasped his hands in front of him and squeezed. “This is great, sir.”

Mr. Oz smiled back at him. It felt good to be on the same page as his master, to be excited with him. Port was already imagining what it would be like to have another presence in the house. Someone to help with housework, to get to know, to talk with like an an equal. A small spike of guilt struck him at the thought. His master was supposed to fulfill all his needs. He shouldn’t be craving the company of another pet, of all things. And yet…

Mr. Oz grabbed Sonny roughly by the shoulders and pushed him closer to Port, made them stand shoulder-to-shoulder. Sonny had to be at least half a foot shorter than him. 

He watched Mr. Oz admire them both, mind working. His hand shot out to Sonny’s face so fast that Sonny jerked back and Port nearly flinched. Mr. Oz gripped him by the face, dimpling his cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head upwards. “Look at me,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll have you…” He trailed off, eyes growing dark. “What’s with that face?”

Port glanced down to gauge for himself. On Sonny’s face was an unmistakable expression: fear. 

“Are you scared?” asked their master. He was no longer smiling.

Sonny said nothing. Port’s heart beat fast for him. Mr. Oz did not like to go unanswered.

“Well?”

Sonny hesitated too long. Mr. Oz released Sonny’s face only to crack his hand across it like a whip. Sonny nearly collided into Port’s shoulder, hand raising as if to cradle his rapidly flushing cheek. Port felt a rising sense of alarm. Where was this boy trained?

Mr. Oz’s hand grasped Sonny’s wrist, halting it in place. “Please, sir—“ Sonny finally spoke.

“Who taught you to act like this?” He was yelling, now. “Were you disciplined at all?”

Port couldn’t help himself. “Sir, he’s just—” 

His master whirled on him. “I don’t wanna hear a single word outta you!” 

Port’s jaw clicked shut.

He turned back to Sonny, who was lowering towards the floor like his knees were buckling. Mr. Oz  released Sonny’s wrist and ran both hands through his short hair, something he always did when he was exasperated. “Way to ruin my damn mood.” He rubbed his eyes, and when his fists fell he locked eyes with Port. They were slightly red. “Take him to your room,” he said. “Explain the rules.” His gaze drifted to Sonny, who now had his arms wrapped around himself. Mr. Oz sighed, pinching his brow. “If he doesn’t fix his behavior… we’re gonna have some problems.” Port felt Sonny curl further into himself beside him.

“Yes, sir.” Port wasted no time in guiding Sonny upstairs with a gentle hand on his upper back. He pushed open the door to his room— their room, now. There wasn’t much. A dresser, a blanket, a pillow, the soft rug he slept on. A painting of a seagull hung on the far wall. Port would have to grab another pillow and blanket for Sonny from the linen closet— that is, if Mr. Oz didn’t decide to revoke his bedding privileges for that little display.

Now that they were out of earshot, Port felt comfortable enough to speak. He needed to give Sonny the rundown on how things worked around here. But first… “Are you alright?”

Sonny lifted his head, looking directly at Port for the first time. His eyes were so dark Port couldn’t see the pupils. They shone like black pearls, wet. His cheeks were dry, the left still colored from the slap, but his face was otherwise unblemished. He looked young. His mouth made no movement.

“You can speak, right?”

Sonny’s gaze lowered. “Sorry,” he whispered. “This is a lot.”

Port sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy. The boy didn’t seem very experienced. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s sit down.” 

Sonny wasted no time in dropping to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Port went to his knees in front of him, but after a few seconds decided to readjust and sit on his bottom to be more casual. He gave Sonny a minute of silence to calm down before speaking again.

“I don’t know what that was, but—” you shouldn’t be so scared? I hope you’re okay? You can’t do that again? “—he isn’t as bad as you seem to think he is.”

Sonny looked at him again, now reproachfully. Port tried a smile. “Are you new?”

His eyes turned sharp, flicking up and down Port’s figure. “Six months outta training,” he muttered. Secondhand? Sonny seemed to be considering him. “You’re not new.”

“No.” 

“You’re W.R.U.?” Dubya-arr-yoo.

“…Yes.” Technically. 

Sonny hummed, lowering his chin. “You kinda seem like it.”

Port wasn’t sure how to feel about that, or what could have possibly given him that impression, so he just asked, “Where are you from, if not W.R.U.?” Port knew of at least two knock-offs. “I didn’t even know Mr. Oz was looking for another pet.”

Sonny just sighed and lowered his head further so his forehead touched the tops of his knees, face hidden. 

Well, alright. Considering they were equals, Port supposed Sonny wasn’t obligated to answer him.

[storydays]

Radio Killed the Video Star P2

(3rd Pov)

*In the Vs' Tower*

"We have a problem." Vox grumbled as Valentino's assistant passed out their drinks. "Alastor is getting close to the royal Morningstars. So our main concern now is ensuring that no deal is ever struck between Lucifer's brats and that smiling freak." He rolled his eyes at the thought of the red demon.

"Well, how exactly are we supposed to stop it?" Velvette replied, looking up from her phone. "Put something inside them. That's how I get the bitches to behave." grinned Valentino from where he was decorating his gun.

"Well, maybe someone on the inside isn't such a bad idea." hummed Vox before he pointed at the moth. "Do you think Angel would?"

"That lanky prick won't even return my calls." scoffed Val.

Sighing, Vox stood up and walked around to the window. "We need someone who little Miss Bleeding Heart would take in."

"Someone pathetic, desperate, with no direct ties to us." Velvette listed. "I employ every down on their luck loser this side of hell. Who the fuck is left?" Valentino wondered. Vox chuckled before turning to his partners with his hypnosis eye glowing. "I think I have just the one." he grinned.

*Back at the hotel*

Alastor's shadow demon minons lounged around the bar, Tommy stretching his arm, having pulled a muscle, when Charlie and Vaggie came back from their search, defeat written on their faces. Charlie groaned dramatically as she flopped onto the couch, face first.

Angel perked up hearing the princess; "Sooo, how'd it go?" he asked, smiling and turning his attention to his phone. "Not a single new recruit," Vaggie sighed.

"Yeah, well, who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting?" shrugged Angel. "More than you'd think, Angel." (Y/N) yawned as he walked down the stairs, Rocco trailing behind him.

After his mope feast in his room, the blond demon fell asleep reading one of his romance novels, and had slept for a good 6 hours. 'Great, now I'll be up all night.' (Y/N) thought to himself as he sat on the far end of the couch, running a hand through Charlie's braid in a comforting manner.

"Well, look who's finally awake. I missed you, baby. Did you dream of me, sweets?" Angel purred, leaning over to run a hand over (Y/N)'s wings, grunting when (Y/N) playfully fluffed his wings in Angel's face.

(Y/N) chuckled, feeling smug at finally getting the spider back. Angel wasn't one to be outdone, so he teasingly ran a finger between the prince's shoulder blades in the middle of his back, giggling at the involuntary shivers that ran through his body.

A sudden knock on the door turned Vaggie's attention from the men flirting, and approached the door, to reveal Sir Pentious, who smiled brightly. "Why, hello, my dear--" he yelped as Vaggie punched him in his face before pulling her angelic spear out and pointing it at him.

"Wait, wait, wait! I come in peasssse (peace)." The snake demon made peace signs with his hands with a wobbly smile.

"What are you doing here?" hissed Vaggie. "Vaggie, what's the problem?" asked Charlie, still feeling sour from her failed search.

She gasped seeing the snake. "Oh, hello again." Vaggie let him up as she watched him suspiciously. "I didn't come looking for a fight. I uhh..I heard that you're helping people. People who want to be better?" The snake asked more than stated.

Charlie gasped excitedly, before dragging the snake behind her, chattering happily, leaving Vaggie to scowl at the snake. "You heard right. Welcome to our home of healing. Our resort of restoration. Our--" The princess was cut off by Angel Dust stopping her in the door way.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was tryin' to kill us, like, literally 6 hours ago. And now you wanna bring him in her to live with us?" Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely!" Charlie grinned, "This place is about second chances, and who deserves one more than this...slithery...slippery...special little man?"

Looking at Vaggie, Angel asked, "Aren't you supposed to protect this place?"

Vaggie made the mistake of looking at Charlie's (well timed and manipulative) puppy dog eyes. She sighed heavily before shrugging, "I...guess he's not much of a threat without the war machine.." Sir Pentious' hood lifted as he grinned brightly, "Or even with the war machine." Vaggie thought, making the snake visibly deflate.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Charlie squealed before running over to the demon. "Sir Pentious! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!"

"Oh no, darling, thank you. You won't regret thissss." He chirped happily, slitheirng in after the princess.

"Eh, I give you a week...tops." Angel shrugged, following them inside.

"So..this is the bar and the bartender." Charlie grinned at a drinking, scowling Husk. "And this is the curtain, and this is the new wall after you broke the last one, heh and, oh, this, this is-" Charlie was cut from her excited rambling by Vaggie pulling her arm.

"Babe, you don't have to show him every detail." she placed her hand on her hip, watching the demoness.

"Sorry, I'm just excited to have our first real guest!" Charlie grinned.

"Uh, what the hell am I, then?" demanded Angel Dust, as he narrowed his eyes at Charlie.

"Well, you're an important part of our family here, Angel. But you um, uh..." "Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass (Y/N) and Husk, and have literally never once tried to improve?" Vaggie listed.

"What she means is, it's just nice to have someone be interested for a change." Charlie sugar coated, gesturing at the snake who eyed everything suspiciously.

She walked over to the red eyed demon, introducing Niffty, not noticing Angel's frown on his face. As Charlie continued to introduce Niffty, saying that they were 80% sure she was harmless, she bumped into the Radio Demon, she grinned nervously.

"Oh, uh, Alastor, our gracious Facility Manager." Turning to Alastor, she continued, "You've met our newest guest, Sir Pentious...heh heh."

"Ah yes. You're the one who ruined my coat. I definitely remember you now." He grinned sinisterly, eyes glowing an eerie red.

"Well...I guess this is a great time for your first lesson. Ahem, 'How to apologize.' The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you're wrong. Why don't you give it a try?" Charlie pushed Sir Pentious towards Alastor who grinned lazily.

"Yes, um...Mr um..Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat...Um, here." He nervously gave back the piece he'd ripped off of Alastor earlier in the day.

"Oh-ho! Not many people have been able to take even this much off me." He looked at Sir Pentious with a condescending smile, "It must've meant quite a lot to you."

Sir Pentious and Charlie watched with wide eyed looks as Alastor burned up the piece of coat with a wicked grin.

(Y/N) laughed loudly from where he was observing at the top of the stairs. "Pfft, hahaha! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you're faces were too much for me." He snickered, wiping a tear away from his eye, making his way down towards the group.

"Oh! And Prince (Y/N) he's also my big brother! He's also my advisor when it comes to business administration. And he's my bestest friend." The siblings shared a fist bump, sharing matching grins.

"Welcome to the Hazbin hotel, Sir Pentious. I've got to say, your machines are something to wonder at. I'd love to go over the mechanics sometime." (Y/N) held his hand out for a handshake, yelping when the snake hugged him, "Nobody's ever admired my skillssssss.! We are going to be great friendssss." sobbed Pentious.

Angel was now full on glaring at the snake...how dare he touch (Y/N) like that?! It took a while before (Y/N) allowed anyone new to touch him.

"Um..Charlie? Isn't it time for our daily activity?" squeaked (Y/N), clearly uncomfortable in the snake's grip.

*Time skip*

(Y/N) was sitting in his favorite arm chair, Angel Dust leaning protectively on his legs, letting the blond run his fingers through Angel's head fluff. It was so soft, he couldn't resist and Angel certainly didn't mind, if the slight purring the spider was doing was an indication.

Angel scrolled lazily through his phone, Vaggie and Pentious sitting on the floor listening as Charlie spoke.

"Now! With a new resident, I think it's important we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me.

"🎵My name is Charlie," she claps twice and kneels down to smile at Vaggie's love struck look, "I like to sing," She stood up gesturing to everyone, clapping again. "And when we get to know each other, it's the greatest thing!🎵" Charlie clapped once more and gestured to Sir Pentious.

(Y/N) smiled; that was a game he taught her when she was a kid.

"🎵My name's Sir Pentious," claps twice, "I like to build," claps twice again, "And despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I'm very skilled🎵." He clapped twice for the last time before he and Charlie both gestured to the white furred spider.

He stopped the quite purring, and looked up from his phone with a look of irritation. "This is stupid." Angel deadpanned. (Y/N) snorted softly as he brushed the white fur back.

"🎵This is not stupid!" Charlie claps twice with a forced smile, "It's just the game. Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same.🎵'" She twirled in front of Angel who sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak(nose).

"I am too sober for this." (Y/N) tugged his hair slightly in a playful warning.

"Ooh, harder, Daddy~" fake moaned Angel, yelping in surprise when the blushing prince actually tugged harder in retaliation.

"Well, get used to it and learn how to play. 🎵This is gonna be your whole day 🎵 ." Vaggie clapped twice with a smirk at the glare Angel sent her.

*Timeskip*

"Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs. Now, where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?" Angel read from the script, feeling like an idiot. He glared slightly as (Y/N) wore the biggest shit eating grin from where he was standing behind the others who sat on the couch.

Breaking character, he hissed at the prince, "Don't you say a word."

He was dressed like a homeless man, and Sir Pentious was licking a lollipop wearing a uniform. "Wow, who wrote this?" Angel asked aloud, smacking the script. "It's great, right. Keep going." Charlie grinned like a school girl.

The Italian sighed heavily before continuing, "Hey you." He faked called Pentious. "Who me?" asked the snake in a child like tone.

"Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some devil's dandruff?" Angel squinted his eyes, sliding a hand down his face in disbelief. "Oh, for fucks' sake."

"Not me. I have to go home and sssstudy."

"C'mon, kid, it'll make you cool like me...." Angel paused, hearing (Y/N)'s snickering, and felt his body drop at the dumbass script in his hand, "The crackhead."

(Y/N) couldn't hold it back anymore before he laughed loudly. He was laughing so hard, he fell on the floor behind the couch,tears pooling in his eyes from laughing.

The others' waited for him to finish, so they could hear the play. Charlie rolled her eyes at her brother with a fond smile. It'd been a while since he'd laugh like that. Angel smiled, hearing (Y/N) belly laugh. 'No, I'm supposed to be mad at him, right now.' He thought stubbornly, cheeks flushed.

"The only cool thing here is to sssay no to drugsss. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" declared the snake proudly. (Y/N) finally finished his giggles, and was standing back up, watching with weary grin.

"Yes! Oh, bravo, bravo!" cheered Charlie as she clapped excitedly. "Wow, Pentious, at this rate, you'll be redeemed in no time."

"I-I'm going to bed." Angel announced, a funny tone in his voice. He walked away briskly, but not before (Y/N) caught his downcast face. He frowned thoughtfully before teleporting to who knows where.

Angel paused at the steps as he listened to Charlie, "I am so proud of you, Sir Pentious." He turned to watch the interaction. "That was amazing. That was beautiful work today." "Thank you, thank you. You like me, you really like me." preened the snake, bowing slightly.

In his room, Angel shrugged off the costume he was wearing, throwing it on his beloved pet pig, who snorted curiously before laying on his bed and curling on his side.

He pulled his phone out and scrolled through the voicemail he'd received.

Sighing, the spider demon clicked on a random one to listen, "Angel, baby, come home. It's not the same without you here. I miss you, come back." Val's voice cooed before turning angry, "Angel, you bitch, if you don't come home, you will be fucking greasy truck drivers for the next year."

"You fuckin' slut!"

"Hey, Angie, about earlier--"

"Kill your whole fucking fam--"

"Work's really stressful--"

"Little cocksucking piece of shit--"

"You actually think you can change?" The pornstar gasped, sitting up and watching the red smoke curl in his room as he listened to this voicemail. "Addict trash like you doesn't change. I'll see you soon, baby." Angel snapped out of his thoughts as his pig nudged him with his cold snout, looking for attention.

"Sorry, not now, Fat Nuggets." He apologized before heading downstairs.

*Downstairs*

Angel grabbed a bottle of alcohol and started chugging away. "Aah..." He sighed, before seeing a shadow move. "Huh?"

He followed the light to see a door open..and not just any door, the door to (Y/N)'s office was opened. (Y/N) usually was so careful about letting people in there, the prince only Angel himself and Charlie in there. But the blond demon wouldn't leave his office open so carelessly, so someone broke in.

He walked over to the door and peeked an eye in, gasping seeing Sir Pentious placing a camera in (Y/N)'s bookshelf.

"You slippery little shit!"

Sir Pentious yelped at being caught before turning to see the angry spider.

"You're working for the Vees? I fucking knew there was something shitty about you." Angel pointed an accusing finger at the snake who scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, whorebug!" smirked Pentious before Angel growled and tackled him, starting a brawl.

Spoilers: Angel was winning.

"Get your aggressively average body off of me!" screamed Pentious, hypnotizing Angel.

"Fuck!" Angel screamed as he obeyed unwillingly. Sir Pentious hissed as he slithered away to the bookshelf to get some space. Angel narrowed his eyes approaching, just as (Y/N), Charlie and Vaggie appeared, the women who were clearly sleeping, yawned and watched them blearily.

"What's going on?" asked Charlie.

(Y/N) had a box in his hands, and he tilted his head. "Why the hell are you in my office, Pentious?"

"Oh, the door was opened and I was looking for you, Prince (Y/N), when this spider burst in here and attacked me!" "Yes, my door was open, because sometimes Angel keeps me company when insomnia hits us both hard. So I leave it open and we stay up together until we fall asleep." explained (Y/N), missing the knowing looks Vaggie and Charlie shared.

"This little bitch is a traitor!" Angel snapped, holding Pentious arm firmly.

"Preposterous, I would never betray you. You...are my best friends." lied the snake as he pulled Charlie and Vaggie into a group hug. He tried to hug (Y/N) as well, but last time he did, the prince threatened to skin him and let the cannibals from Cannibal Town eat him....alive with his Egg Bois as a side.

Safe to say, everyone was disturbed as (Y/N) made that threat with a smile on his face. Angel found it hot as fuck though...

"Uh-huh. Then explain this." Angel moved one of (Y/N)'s books aside to reveal a video camera, starting to record.

Pentious noticed the shocked looks from Charlie and Vaggie before feeling a dangerous glare at his back.

He shakily turned to look at (Y/N) who was grinning darkly, fangs glinted in the light dangerously; his eyebrow twitching in anger, mixed eyes glowing an deadly red. "Hmm, looks like I'll be following through with that threat after all." He set the box down, and started approaching the Snake.

"Ah! Ah! Abort! Abort! SOS Agent Pentious in need of immediate evacuation!" screamed the snake into a wrist watch as he tried to leave the wrath of the prince.

"Pentious? Wait...you were caught? It hasn't even been a day!" Vox laughed.

Pentious side eyed the hotel members who stood in front of the other exit. Vaggie was now wielding her spear, Charlie holding her hand over her mouth in worry, Angel crossing his arms, while one of his lower arms rested on (Y/N)'s upper back as a way of grounding the pissed off prince.

"Please, you've got to get me out of here!" begged the snake. "I can't believe we thought you could handle even something this simple. Do us a favor, if they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure!" Vox screamed, short circuiting the watch.

(Y/N)'s malicious bloodlust calmed hearing how Vox talked to the snake.

Yes, he was an idiot..but no one deserved to be told to kill themselves. He looked down thinking of...them.

"I--Just make it quick I guess. Not that I deserve it." Pentious laid down sadly, waiting for someone to hurt him. "Gladly." Vaggie growled, before being stopped by (Y/N).

"(Y/N)?" asked Angel, watching the prince as he held a hand out to the snake. "Pentious?"

"Good first day." Charlie sighed happily, reaching a hand out to Vaggie as they walked to bed. "Let's get some rest."

The group walked out of the library, (Y/N) grabbing the camera to dispose of, Angel following behind him.

After a few minutes later, a shadow grinned before Alastor appeared in (Y/N)'s office and picked up the discarded watch, starting it with his powers.

"What?" snapped Vox before he realize who was on the other side. "You'll have to try harder than that next time, ol' pal." Alastor grinned, as Vox screamed on the other side, his laughter echoing in the TV demon's ears.

*With (Y/N)*

He'd pulled Angel out onto the private balcony that came he'd built for his room, the spider lounging on his favorite swing seat that (Y/N) made for him. The two continued to grow closer everyday, and since they hang out so much, the prince wanted the spider to be comfortable. (Y/N) appeared next to Angel, holding out a glass of a red wine with ice on top and an orange slice on the rim.

The Italian mobster raised an eyebrow at the drink. "Relax, it's a Balisteri Cherry Wine. You look like you could use it." (Y/N) showed the other glass in his hand, offering a soft smile when Angel took it. He then sat himself on the railing near Angel, one leg tucked under him, the other hanging over the ledge.

"I'm glad you're here Angel. I'm sorry it took so long for someone to say this but: You're very special, and I know underneath, there's somethin' special just waiting to be unlocked....you just need someone to help you unlock it. I'd like to be that person if you'd let me." (Y/N) blushed slightly before turning to the spider who looked at him with a soft look before replying,

"I'd like that."

*End! For the song, imagine it was a male Charlie singing..I could't find a male version yet.*

See you guys next time!

[burning-omen]

Kinktober day 5: Gun Play + Steven Grant

Steven Grant x SHIELD agent!Male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 6 | Ao3

Summary: After taking a day off, you finally get to go home to your boyfriend, Steven.

(a/n: I MISSED YESTERDAY AND IT SHATTERED MY SOUL INTO A MILLION PIECES IM SORRY I WAS TIRED AND I FORGOT)

Warning: Guns, mention of reader killing and being shot at, reader is close with Nick Fury kinda, oral, hand job, surprisingly gentle sex, obedient Steven Grant, soft top reader, Steven talks to Marc but that's not really a warning I just wanted yall to know that my bbygrl was mention in this fic

Words: 2k

SHIELD has been sending you all over the world as of recently, you didn't complain, you knew your work was important, and the amount of trust you’d gained from Nick Fury came with a lot of off-the-books missions, mostly investigating SHIELD itself. You'd asked from a break, at least a day or so, to get your gear together after you gun, which has been through many, many mission, jammed on you mid encounter. It was embarrassing, luckily the only other people who saw it happen were either dead or in maximum security prison serving life.

Your boyfriend, Steven, wasn't home when you got there, mostly likely at work, or maybe Marc was out on his a mission. Either way, you waited for him.

In the meantime, you decided to finally take care of your gear, you'd brought all of the supplies from SHEILD headquarters before coming home, setting up at Steven’s desk, and moving the book he had lying on the table and a couple of papers into a neat stack. You started with your boots, scrubbing them, changing the insoles, making sure the outsole wasn't damaged beyond a bit of wear from years of use, then setting them aside.

Moving on to your vest, you picked out the metal fragment from the various bullets that had shattered on impact, replacing the aramid padding that- even though it has yet to show signs of any extreme damage- was starting to wear. The bruise on your stomach was proof of that, the vest stopped the bullet from piercing skin, but didn't lessen the impact as it hit you. You sighed, knowing that Steven was going to fuss over it the second he saw the festering bruise.

You moved on to you knives, still pretty sharp, but not as sharp as they should have been. Using the lanksy puck that you definitely were not supposed to take to sharpen a them. Carefully putting them back in their sheaths and reattatching them to your utility belt, which sat in a duffle bag with both your uniform and you newly repaired vest.

Finally, you moved onto the main event, you gun, which was still jammed, turning the safety on before completely disassembling it, staring at the pieces of your revolver on the table. You didn't worry to much about the the bullets, they'd be gone by your next mission anyway.

You took your time with this one, getting into every nook and cranky, blood, dust, and built up metal from the bullets, just a bunch of little things. Reassembly was purely muscle memory, your gun looked and felt brand new. You took the ammo out and dry-fired the gun, it sounded a hell of a lot better- and the hammer dropped without interruption, jam officially gone, you reloaded the gun and sat it on the desk.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, letting the tension slip from your shoulders with a sigh, practically melting into the seat, finnaly able to relax.

And as if he somehow knew that you were officially off duty, you heard Steven fumble with the lock, seemingly dropping the key, a small swear leaving him, before he unlocked the door. He walked around silently for a while, setting down his bag and heading to the kitchen, muttering to himself, or more likely Marc, as he was asking questions about the morning, what they ate for breakfast and where Marc had left the book Steven had been reading before bed.

It took him maybe five minutes to walk back there. He walked straight past you, not paying any attention and b-lining to the bed, to be fair, it was late and Steven wasn't exactly the most observant. You loved him though, so you let him lay there for a moment before calling his name.

He practuscally jumped out of his skin, getting caught in the mess of blankets for moment. Steven was on you faster that you thought was possible. Damn near tackling you, the chair surprisingly holding both of your weight and Steven situated himself in your lap, his legs drapped across yours.

“You're back! When did you fly in?” he asked, a wide smile on his face.

“About three hours ago, where’ve you been?”

He groaned, flopping down against you, his head on your shoulder.

“Job hunting, again.”

“What happened to the uh, what was it, the library, right? I thought you were having fun over there?”

“I was, but they cut the budget and I was new so they dropped me.”

“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, “poor thing.”

He sighed, enjoying the contact after nearly a month apart.

“What about you, I thought you weren't supposed to be back for another two weeks?”

“I wasn't, but..” you grabbed you pistol off the table, you finger on the trigger even though the safety was on and you had no immediate target, “My gun jammed and I asked my boss to give me a day off in order to fix it,”

Stevens's eyes were glued to the gun as you spoke, appreciating every little detail and crevice it held.

You knew about Steven’s affinity for guns, well, you and guns, guns alone did nothing for Steven, but when you held them...

He got quiet, glancing at you only to see you staring back at him with a knowing look on your face.

“Im flying back out tomorrow..”you pointed the gun downward, nudging his legs open with the tip, he complyed without any hesitation. “…i was thinking you and I could-”

“Yes!”

You stared at the man for a moment, almost bewildered before remembering that you've been gone for nearly two months and he's probably been thinking about this since the day you left.

You hummed before saying, “Get on the bed, lay on your back, I want to see you.”

He grinned again, practically running to the bed, shrugging off his jacket and leaving it on the floor, laying down in the bed, hardly able to keep himself still.

You sat at the desk for a short moment, completely removing the ammo from the gun, double checking it to avoid any incidence, then walked over to Steve, who was practically vibrating in excitement.

Kneeling between his legs, you commemorated the image of him, so happy to be fully and utterly yours, to memory.

You pointed the gun on his chest, digging the tip into his shirt, watching his reaction intently, he ceased all movement, staring down at it, taking in the weight on his chest.

“Breathe, Steven.” you said when you noticed he wasn't.

He let out a long, shuttered breath.

“You know I would never hurt you? Right Steven.”

“Oh course..”

“Good, “ you slid the gun down, feeling where his ribs ended and sturdy muscle began. Stopping just below his belly button.

“Strip, slowly, I want to see you.”

He complied easily. Hands shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, just like you demanded.

“That's it, good boy..”

Shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, then moving down to his pants. Fumbling with the belt, getting it just before you could offer your help, he kicked his jeans down until they pooled on the floor below.

You stared at him, taking in his smooth skin and every sculpted muscle that you had no one but Marc to thank for.

Running the tip of your pistol lower and lower, running it over the growing tent in his underwear, he shuttered, a light gasp passing his slightly parted lips.

Dragging it across his waist, then down his thigh, Steven watched the gun just as intensely as you watched him. You let your finger hover the trigger, he swallowed hard.

You moved suddenly, lifting the gun to his head, right between his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard, he never hid how he felt, not with you, he felt like he didn't have to, or more accurately, he couldn't. You were an agent of SHEILD, you were trained to see through lies.

Moving your hand down ever so slightly, pressing the gun against his lips.

“Open.”

For the forth time tonight, he obeyed. Taking the tip in his mouth, then more, sucking and licking like the gun could feel it.

The effects it had on you were innumerable.

You hummed softly, adjusting your grip. You watched him, he seemingly never got bored, the imagined danger and thrill perpetuating him, eager to please cold steel.

You tugged slightly, and he let it go, lips wet with saliva.

The way he looked at you, his eyes low, cheeks flushed, breathing like he'd just run a hundred miles.

“You're being so good, Steven, so obedient. You must have really missed me..”

He nodded rapidly, “I missed you, I missed you so much-”

You shushed him, “I know, I know. I shouldn't have to leave you here, all on your own, I should be here to protect you at all times..”

He nodded along- you both knew that he didn't need the protection, but fuck it kept you here he’d be your damsel in distress forever.

Rubbing the wet tip down his chest, then right above his cock, tapping the trigger, watching him flinch at every move. He watched so intently, his breath shaky and loud, you were unpredictable, yet he couldn't wait to see what you did next.

Nudging the tip of the gun past the elastic waistband of his underwear, pulling them down.

Steven couldn't stay still, his brain and body running a million miles an hour. Slowly, you sunk down between his legs, your gun pressed right up against the center of his chest. You knew the position would get uncomfortable soon, so you decided to make this as quick as you could.

“Don’t move.” he didn't nod, or talk, just immediately playing along.

Taking your free hand, you guided Steven's hard cock, shiny with pre-cum to your mouth.

He was always sensitive, but your tongue had hardly even pressed the tip of his cock before he was a whimpering, whining mess. Hs adrenaline was spiked, of course he was more susceptible that ever right now. Taking him as deep as you could, feeling him press against the back of your throat. His hands balled into the bedsheets bellow, nearly tearing them in his hands.

Running your tongue on the underside of his cock, then swirling it around the tip, never taking your eyes off of him. His little whines growinh louder and more desperate.

You pulled away when you felt him start bucking into your mouth. Taking a short moment to wipe your mouth of both spit and pre cum.

You lifted slightly, wrapping your hand around his now perfectly lubed cock. Stroking him nice and slow, soft moans falling from his lips.

He whined your name over and over, obedience and his composure, the latter of which was had been already hanging on by a thread before you ever put your mouth or hands on him, waining. He loved nights like these when you were gentle but still so very obviously in control.

“Y/n- y/n, I'm so close, please, Love, please-”

You tightened your grip on the gun, pressing it harder into his chest, he moaned at the feeling.

You never sped up, watching him build up the his orgasm nice and slow, and when his mouth fell open in a long moan and his eyes squeezed so tightly shut you're sure he was seeing stars behind them.

Then- you squeezed the trigger. Nothing came out but Steven gasped hard like he’d been hit. His hips twitched up into your hand, cum pouring out all over your fingers. Even when that stopped, his orgasm still seemed to flow through him, his body drawn tight as he came down.

“Y/n..” he panted, “you're good, so good-”

Dragging the gun down, right into the pool of cum at the base of his stomach, then bringing it up to your mouth, licking it off.

“Come on, Steven, we're not done..”

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 6- Scream(Yandere 2012 Mikey x Reader)

A/N, not important: Gonna be honest, kinda hate this one, but we vibing anyway. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, being chained up, gagged, dark themes, yandere

Words: 1392

Summary: Mikey really needs to learn impulse control.

The walk home was quiet, the music coming from your earbuds making your ears hurt with a pleasant pain. The loud music cuts off your senses to the outside world, making you completely immersed in your own small bubble. There was no reason to worry after all. This was a safer area, the crime rate going down drastically in the past few years. It was a wonder, but not something you wanted to question too hard. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth after all.

The shadows cast by the night where the light doesn’t reach don’t worry you, walking past without much thought. You had passed them hundreds, if not millions, of times without incident. This time wouldn’t be any different, there was no reason it should be. Your mind is still in the clouds, your brain following the music you were injecting into your head. The world was nothing compared to what was going on in your head.

You don’t notice the eyes following your movements, the mutant tracking you from above. His face was a soft smile as he watched you, longing and hope embedded in his chest. He liked how carefree you were, even in a moment like this. Completely at ease despite the dangers of the world. He jumps down, staying a pace behind you before taking a deep breath and running up, wrapping his arms around your waist and quickly launching the both of you back onto the rooftop.

He winces as the scream that leaves your mouth, desperately trying to cover your mouth. You flail widely, Mikey turning you around to look him in the eyes. Your screams quiet for mere seconds, your eyes as big as saucers before you start to shriek once more. Mikey falls back when you land a hit to his cheek, letting go out of shock. You scramble to your feet, trying to get away and return to the ground. Mikey’s eyes narrow and he unfurls the chains of his nunchucks, quickly subduing you as the chain meets its target. You crash to the ground, the shock from the chains wrapping around your torso making your head spin.

“Stop struggling,” He says, his voice coated in worry. He quickly moves closer to you, picking you up and situating you into a more comfortable position. He looks hesitant to touch you, hands twitching inches above your skin. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you shouldn’t yell when you meet people. It’s rude.”

His statement confuses you, your breathing calming slightly right as the mutant reaches over and sticks a small strip of duct tape over your mouth. He watches you carefully, seeing how you start to even out your breathing and go a bit more limp in the chains.

Bright blue eyes stare into your own, the chain around your chest and legs making it impossible to move. The small turtle tilts his head, a bright grin on his face as he scans your expression. You weren’t sure it was even easy to read, the sticky glue of the duct tape forcing your mouth to stay closed, and your face to stay slack.

“You calmed down a bit! That’s good. I’m not planning on hurting you.” The terrapin seems to have not noticed your silent scream nor the nervous sweat on your face, your heart beating quicker than a bullet train. It was surreal, being here with him. Just moments before you were walking home, earbuds in and not a care in the world.

It was terrifying how easily that could be stripped away.

The young turtle leans back, sitting on his heels as he continues to grin down at you. There was a small blush dusting his cheeks, the green skin darker across his face. Unease rolls through your stomach, the duct tape pulling uncomfortably at your lips. His larger hands cup your face, the three fingers pressing uncomfortably into your cheeks.

He scans you again before looking up to the sky, still wearing the ever present grin. “If you promise to be quiet, I’ll take off the tape. I just thought it would help since you couldn’t quiet down.”

You carefully nod, inhaling slowly as to not alert him, but preparing to scream as loud as you can. You needed to get away. His falsely innocuous eyes bored into yours, his thumb sweeping across the makeshift gag. With a quick rip, he tears it off. You hiss in pain, the skin where the adhesive had stuck tacky and sore.

Before you can make another noise, his hand is covering your mouth, muffling all sound that could come out. “See, not so bad huh? I wouldn’t have had to do that if you weren’t so jumpy when we first met. I mean, I can’t imagine your first reaction to be screaming when you saw me. I must’ve just scared you with my awesome moves.”

He chuckles, and you’re reminded of a small child despite his other mannerisms pointing to him being more late teen to young adult. The way he connected your reactions was completely arbitrary, and it was clear he was only seeing what he wanted to.

“I’m Mikey by the way.” He says, as if it was an afterthought, his bright blue eyes still clouded with thought. He seemed distracted, his head moving at each small noise to be heard. You move your jaw slightly, wanting to say something, to scream and alert others, but his hand is still over your mouth and holding back any attempt you could make. His eyes snap to you once more, his other hand clenching by his thigh as his smile grows. “I already know who you are, so you don’t need to try and introduce yourself. I can feel you moving.”

You blink at him, unable to do much else. His eyes meet yours for a couple seconds, boring into your soul and analyzing everything you’ve ever dared to think to do. Nothing you could do in this moment could quell the confusion and fear you felt while gazing upon the mutant, your brain desperately trying to piece this puzzle together.

You jump back when music starts to come from the waistband around his shell, the turtle's face brightening significantly. Mikey picks up the ringing shell, smiling as he hums along with the tune. He glances at the id before picking it up, his voice lowering in pitch as he starts to talk to the caller in Japanese. He talks with them for a small while, glancing at you and grinning brightly before staring off in the distance again. The call ends and he turns back to you, his hand finally leaving your mouth. He eyes you warily for a moment before relaxing, deciding you wouldn’t scream.

“My brothers said I can take you home! Isn’t that great? I meant to ask them earlier, but I was hoping you would’ve been nicer earlier and I could introduce you normally, but then this,” He points to the chains keeping you bound. “Happened. But I can take you home anyway! Isn’t that great? We’re going to have so much fun together. I can teach you how to skateboard, and we can play video games and read comics, and just have so much fun!”

The genuine excitement in his voice does nothing to put you at ease, your muscles tensing as you struggle against the chains holding you down. “Why… What do you mean “take me home”? I’m not… What?”

Mikey laughs, picking you up and jumping down from the roof he was keeping you on, his stance sure and relaxed. “Oh, that’s an easy question! I found you a couple days ago, and Sensei always said to never let an opportunity slip through my fingers… Or something like that. Plus, Leo said it was okay! Gosh, Donnie’s going to be so jealous I got a partner before him.”

The names and information he was giving swirls in your head, bringing more questions than answers to your mind. He continues to talk as he works you into the sewers, his tight hold a warning against fighting back. You’re stuck, unable to do anything but think as he carries you down through the tunnels of the sewers. You wished more than ever you screamed louder when he first came near you.

[swagmagussupreme]

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 6: First Kiss

Redid one of my favorite early Darkening Horizons chapters, Scar Tissue. Now it's not sad :D

Content warning for suggestive stuff, blood.

Words: 3642

Weiss felt like hell.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. In all ways, she was addled. Her legs were sore, her Aura was sore, somehow. Her brain was constantly replaying that move in her head, that normal move— swish, backstep into forward lunge, opening slash with Rosenwache, thrust with Myrtenaster— something that was so regular that Ruby should've read it, she'd expected Ruby to read it.

But Ruby, for once, had not surpassed her partner's expectations. She hadn't dodged, so Myrtenaster had split her Aura open and cut a deep rift into her intercostals. Weiss had failed Qrow's first lesson— gauging the Aura, knowing when that barrier would break, pulling back to reduce chances of lethality. Such was the nature of their second year. Physical education was replaced with self-defense, preparation for a second incursion on the level of that train incident, only this time with more people to fight.

Weiss could still feel her sword running through her own partner's flesh, could still see the way her blood settled into the circuitous dust channels of her blade. She could remember the hot, sweaty smell of the amphitheater, full of teens fighting, full of students who weren't splitting open the person they were supposed to trust most. The sound Ruby had made. The yelp. The hiss. The strangled ‘Weiss!’

She had cut her partner. Weiss had cut Ruby. Her best friend, her confidante, the person who had spent so long whittling down all the shittiest parts of her just to uncover the tiny nugget of tenderness inside— she had cut her!

Now they were in the infirmary. Ruby's side was thickly bandaged. Weiss couldn't bear to look at her partner, but the idea of leaving sickened her, so she sat at her bedside, impotently staring at the hands that’d cut her Ruby— her partner.

“Weiss, it's okay,” Ruby insisted. “It's just a cut. Doc said it'd only be a day, at most.”

Just a cut. Just a cut? Weiss scowled, her gut panging like she'd stuck Rosenwache in it. “I cut you.”

“Sure ya did.” Weiss cringed, but Ruby continued without any severity or pain. “I've been cut before, y'know. Way worse, too. Remember Bartramb?”

Weiss would never forget Bartramb; Ruby had nearly died of blood loss. “Bartramb was a Grimm, Ruby. I am your partner. I'm not supposed to hurt you.”

Being as good as she was, her partner was having none of it. Ruby threw herself out of bed without so much as a wince, and stormed up to Weiss with none of the gingerness that someone so wounded should have. She kneeled in front of the heiress, forcing herself into the girl's line of sight, and reached out from her uninjured side— the right— to lay a hand on her shoulder. She even pushed the half-cape aside to do it, throwing the extravagant white cloth over her back to grip Weiss more directly through her dress shirt.

Ruby spoke softly, carefully, in the way she always spoke to Weiss when she was being serious— the way that always melted right through the heiress’ chest, the way they got to her better than anyone else’s screams and abuse ever had, the way that, if she did it for too long, would make Weiss blush without fail. “You know, I'd be doing the exact same thing if I'd hurt you, and you'd be doing exactly this.”

Weiss huffed, turning her eyes away from Ruby's. She didn't want to get lost in them. How such a cold, metallic color could be so warm, she would never know.

Ruby's next words had an audible smile peeking through: “You'd probably be a bit more harsh, but my point still stands.”

Damn her. Damn Ruby Rose. Nurturing a healthy self-loathing had always been impossible around her. Weiss cautiously met her eyes. “I—” her voice cracked, she choked. “I'm sorry.”

Then Ruby, being Ruby— the incredible, understanding, caring partner that she was, that Weiss didn't deserve— pulled her into a one-armed hug. 

A year ago, Weiss would've killed her. Eight months ago, Weiss would've at least pushed her away. If it'd been anyone else, the body would never be found.

But it was Ruby, so Weiss hugged her back like she wouldn't see her again. She buried her face in the girl’s neck. She breathed slowly, deeply, in the way she always kind of hoped Ruby would notice. The scythe-wielder smelled like effort, with a background tang of gun oil that was always there, as if attached to her spirit, along with the fading scent of her rosy shampoo. She smelled more like home than Atlas ever had.

Ruby winced, so Weiss moved her left arm to hug around the girl's neck instead, and the instant compulsion to hold the back of her head made Weiss’ cheeks warm. Ruby sighed.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the infirmary, until the intrusion of a tall, ginger nurse made them jump apart. She scolded Ruby for getting out of bed, changed her bandages, then checked her Aura levels. After much begging, Ruby managed to negotiate a return to her dorm with the promise to avoid strenuous activity. To Ruby's chagrin, this included wielding Crescent Rose. She agreed nonetheless.

Weiss escorted her back to their dorm, throwing a concerned glance every time Ruby half-stepped or made a noise. While such attention usually delighted the scythe-wielder, this time it clearly irked her. “Dude, chill. I'm not gonna fall apart the moment you look away.”

Weiss scowled, but said nothing, instead continuing to lead her partner by the hand.

“Seriously, I'm not a kid.”

The heiress didn't respond.

“Weiss, look at me.”

Weiss opened their dorm. Nobody greeted her entrance, what with Yang doing her usual after-class gym routine and Blake doing whatever she does in her free time. As soon as they entered the room, Weiss led her partner to her bunk.

She jerked back suddenly, courtesy of Ruby digging her heels into the carpet. “Weiss, stop,” she demanded. Her partner turned, confused.

“I'm just trying to take care of you,” Weiss insisted, squeezing her palm against her partner's. “Like you did for me; remember when I broke my shin?”

Ruby slipped her hand out and shook her head. “Weiss, this is different. We are different. When have you ever seen me just rest?”

Weiss opened her mouth, but snapped it shut when she realized the nurse's advice was about to slip out— Ruby wouldn't listen to that.

Ruby took her silence as her opportunity to speak. “The wound's pretty much closed. I'm gonna get these bandages off, hop in the shower, then we can go to town. Our first mission is scheduled for next week, so we need to run some errands.”

Weiss wanted to object, but she knew Ruby too well to disagree. She wasn't a person who could physically be still, and her freakishly fast Aura had already done a lot of work on that wound— telling Ruby she couldn't go would only make her do things alone, which was considerably more dangerous. Weiss nodded.

Ruby gave her a small smile in return, extracting some street-clothes from her dresser before stepping into the bathroom. Weiss heard the water turn on after a few minutes, so she sighed and undid her cape, folding it neatly atop her dresser.

She managed to undo the top three buttons of her shirt before a yelp froze her stiff. Weiss immediately threw herself upon the bathroom door, her voice frantic, “Are you okay? Ruby? I heard a noise!”

“Yeah— yep, uh-huh, yes. I am o-kay. Just, uh, cold water?”

Weiss sighed. The poor girl wouldn't last a minute in Atlas. “I'm coming in.”

Ruby let out another squeak, this time more panicked than pained. “Don't look!”

“I'll cover my eyes.”

Ruby remained silent, which Weiss took as a cue to enter, her hand shielding her eyes. She could immediately feel the steam and heat messing up her hair, but blindly stumbled towards the sound of rushing water nonetheless, her free hand stretched out in front. She called into the room, “Ruby?”

Her partner's voice came back thin, unsure. “Y-yeah?”

The cool glass screen of their bath-shower combo pressed against Weiss’ palm. She stopped. “What happened?”

Ruby gave her best attempt at a disarming chuckle, which was wholly ineffective. “I, uh, guess I probably shoulda figured that stre-tching was stre-nuous, huh?”

Weiss tutted. “Did you reopen the cut?”

“Not really. Only a little. Partially. Yes.”

“Ruby, I'm going to open my eyes.”

“You can't!” Ruby whined. “Why!”

“To make sure you're okay, you dolt!”

“I'm fine, really! It's better than it looks!”

That was the opposite of comforting. “I'm going to look,” Weiss warned, spreading her—

“Wait! Not yet!” Weiss kept her eyes shielded. “O-okay. Go ahead. Make it quick.”

The heiress slowly peeled her hand from her face, feeling every strain of muscle as she ground her jaw forward with anticipation. Her heart started to surge hotly in her chest. She could see Ruby’s silhouette through the steamy, frosted glass, and slid the screen aside before she could think about it

She met Ruby’s eyes for half a second before the scythe-wielder turned to face the wall. Her shoulders hitched high, she shrank under the heiress’ gaze, and her voice lacked all the confidence and humor that it needed. “Y-y’know, uh… people usually go on a couple dates before seeing each other… like this.”

Weiss stared, slack-jawed. She was speechless, and Ruby's words slid away like water off a duck's back. The cut was reopened, the wound shallow, now, but long enough to drain an eerie, watered-down red along the girl's rosy skin. It looked like a long papercut— Ruby said her Aura healed quickly because she got injured so often— but that wasn't what really caught Weiss’ attention. It was nothing compared to the rest of her.

Ruby's back was a mural of scar tissue. Nicks and cuts lined her outline, ran over her shoulders and the back of her arms, fanned out along her shoulder blades, stretched across her lower back— claw-marks, cuts from glass, gashes from debris— and they all surrounded the middle of Ruby's back as if to pay reverence to her crowning set: Bartramb's scars. Three of the most wretched, gnarled, painful-looking gashes Weiss had ever seen crossed her partner's back in raised, pink ridges of uneven tissue. 

She'd never seen them before. Ruby's cape had kept them covered when she got them, they hadn't been close enough for Weiss to be with her in the infirmary like today, and Ruby always kept herself well-covered in terms of clothing. Sure, her sleeveless pajamas showed off the faint scars on her arms, but that was the most Weiss had ever seen.

And now she had the opportunity to see everything, but her eyes wouldn't move off the trio of marks in the middle. They were huge, each one at least three fingers thick, and they were still so ragged despite being almost a year old. Didn't they hurt?

After a prolonged moment of silence from the heiress, Ruby suddenly turned, snatching her wrist and slapping Weiss with the realization that she'd been reaching out to touch the scars. From the corner of her vision, Weiss probably could've seen Ruby's mouth open, readying some rebuke, but Weiss wasn't seeing that. She wasn't seeing that at all. 

The moment of silence stretched for ages. Weiss’ jaw ground forward, her face flushed a bright red, but she couldn't move her eyes. 

The panic of realization struck Ruby at a snail's pace, but when it did, she pushed her partner away and yanked the glass screen closed with two yelps— one when her brain caught up to the fact that Weiss was staring at her breasts, and another when pulling the screen closed agitated her wound, making her reel back to the tile wall and hiss.

The fog over Weiss’ mind split at her partner's cries. She scrambled towards the glass again, stammering, “Ruby! Are you okay!”

“Yes!” Ruby lied through grit teeth. “I. Am. Fine!”

Weiss peeked around the half-closed screen, just long enough to see her partner holding the wound, blood leaking between her fingers, before she darted back and scrubbed at her eyes. She rushed to the sink, opened cabinets and drawers, rifling through Yang's absurd collection of name-brand makeups before she found a roll of gauze and a bandage. Her face, her chest, her throat, everything felt strangely hollow, as if her nerves had peaked and left her feeling numb. “I set out a bandage,” Weiss’ voice said. “Will you be able to put it on?”

“I…”

“Don't lie. Please.”

A heavy pause. Ruby turned the water off.  “Probably not. It might stretch again.”

Weiss grabbed a towel off the rack and thrust it past the screen, keeping her own traitorous gaze firmly away from the opening. When the towel was tugged out of her hand, Weiss turned around and marched a few feet away, waiting for the sounds of feet-on-tile and towel-on-skin before looking at her partner again.

Ruby had the towel wrapped under her arms, covering her completely. Blood visibly pooled on the side. Weiss handed her another towel, turned back around, waited until Ruby let out a meek ‘okay’, and looked again to see one towel hanging over her waist while the other one— the bloody one— hung down from her shoulders, clutched tightly in the middle.

Weiss silently approached with the bandage and gauze. Ruby adjusted her top towel to cover her chest more surely before raising her arm, exposing the cut. Weiss bandaged and wrapped it. Neither said a word until the wound was covered.

“I've never seen your back before,” the heiress said, watching her partner's face. “I didn't know it was that bad.”

Ruby scrunched up her face and adjusted her top towel. “Bad? Why would it be bad?”

“Have you seen them? They're—” Weiss sensibly guillotined her words. Unfortunately, they tumbled out of Ruby's mouth instead.

“Ugly? Grotesque?” The scythe-wielder grew a tiny, shaky grin. “Is that what you think?”

Weiss reeled back and raised her hands. “N-no, I didn't mean it like that!”

Ruby's grin turned into a more full smirk. “Yeah, ya did. You just didn't say it.”

The heiress sagged, ashamed, but her partner's tittering laugh made her look up again.

Ruby smiled at her. “It's okay, seriously. I used to think like that, but that sucked, so I decided to see them as trophies! Proof that I, Ruby Rose, kick ass.”

Weiss stared at her partner in awe, only to jolt when she jabbed a finger towards her eye, gesturing over the vertical scar there. 

“Isn't that how you see yours?”

Weiss touched that scar, feeling its marbled tissue beneath her index and middle fingers. She had survived. She had beaten that trial. Weiss Schnee, to her own surprise, kicked ass.

Ruby's smile softened, and she too reached up to drift a finger along the scar’s edge. Weiss’ breath froze in her lungs. “Sorry I flipped on ya,” the scythe-wielder said. 

Their eyes met. The room was hot, the air still thick with steam. The breath in Weiss’ lungs sat heavy, daring her to push it out, daring her to say what she wanted to say. Her eyes felt wide. Her hands twitched. Ruby was so tall, now.

Ruby’s smile was gone. She gulped, and Weiss’ eyes flickered to watch her pale throat bob. “Weiss,” Ruby's voice was a whisper, but it sounded deeper than Weiss had ever heard. “Do you want to touch them?”

The heiress looked up at her partner. She blinked.

“M-my scars,” Ruby clarified, her gaze sliding away, her mouth twitched up in a nervous, beautiful half-smile. “You can, if you want, since… you're my…”

Weiss could almost hear the word ‘partner’ in the air, and she was glad Ruby didn't say it. It would've felt like a line. She didn't like lines, right now, so she nodded. Her head felt heavy.

Ruby gave her one last smile before shooing her off and telling her to wait in the dorm.

Weiss left the bathroom in a daze. It took her a long time to realize her hands were shaking. She was going to touch her scars. Ruby's scars. Ruby's scars. Ruby's scars. It was… that wasn't something partners did. It couldn't be. It was intimate. Weiss touched her own scar again, feeling it, remembering how Ruby had touched it. It was intimate. Ruby had touched her scar.

But… but she couldn't, she'd have to take her to Atlas at some point, she couldn't put Ruby through that. That wasn't right. Ruby deserved a normal girl. Ruby probably didn't even like girls, probably didn't really like her, she was just trying to cheer her up with the scar thing! That was it!

The bathroom door opened with a waft of steam, a push of heat, and a Ruby Rose clad in basketball shorts and a giant t-shirt. She walked into the dorm slowly, her mouth a nervous twist. She didn't meet Weiss’ eyes until she was right in front of her.

In one move that instantly made Weiss’ mouth dry, Ruby grabbed the hem of her shirt and whipped it all the way off, which would've brought the question of ‘well, why'd she put on the shirt in the first place’ if Weiss’ brain wasn't already short-circuiting at the sight of her partner's black bra. Somehow, this felt even more scandalous than actually seeing her exposed chest, like the latter had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Weiss’ brain hadn't processed what her eyes had seen. Now her brain was working.

Ruby was built like a marble statue depicting shredded chicken, which was a terrible comparison, but it was all Weiss could manage as her overclocking brain made her skin explode with heat. She was all lines and lean muscle, her shoulders hard, corded bundles above biceps and triceps and forearms and she had abs, dear gods, she had abs—

“Okay, uh,” Ruby’s nervous voice smacked Weiss like… like another terrible analogy, one that Weiss couldn't even concoct now because she had to focus on not being weird. It took everything just to grab her partner's words and process them between her ears. “I'll turn around, and you can… u-unclasp my bra and just… yeah.”

Weiss nodded. Ruby turned around. Nothing felt real. Not the air on Weiss’ skin, not the sound of their collective breathing, not the taste of her own numb mouth, not even the synthetic fabric of Ruby’s bra beneath her fingers. She unclasped it, and Ruby jumped to hold it up in the front despite it not being strapless. 

Ruby's back was open to her, covered in trophies. Weiss’ hand trembled above the skin. It was warm.

She wanted to explode. She wanted to tell Ruby everything. That she was beautiful, that she was an amazing leader, that she was an idiot, that she wanted to have her, that she was pretty sure she loved her. She wanted to say what she was going to do, what she was going to involve herself in, what she was going to put at risk, and she wanted to beg Ruby to be there for her. 

Ruby looked over her shoulder, saw the conflict in her partner's eyes, and gave a tiny nod before grabbing Weiss’ wrist and placing it right against the biggest of Bartramb’s scars.

Weiss flinched. Ruby's hand fled her wrist, returning to the front. Weiss touched her scars.

The raised tissue was softer than it looked, uneven, clearly different from the unscathed skin around it. She ran her hand up and down the mark, testing how each scar felt against her palm, then her fingertips, then her whole hand. She brought her other hand up to feel as well, tracing the flesh with two palms, two eyes, ten fingers.

Ruby let out a low hiss, nearly making Weiss pull away before she leaned further into the touch, pressing herself harder against the heiress’ ministrations. Weiss could feel her heartbeat— her own and Ruby's— and she started to knead the tissue. Just a slight press in the heels of her palms and the tips of her fingers. Ruby let out a tiny groan. Weiss’ head swam at the sound.

Her hands were shaking, quaking— she could feel it, but she couldn't care. She couldn't tear herself away. She didn't want to. These were trophies, these were proof that her partner was here, that she was alive, and they deserved something for that. Ruby deserved something. She deserved everything, she deserved to know, Weiss wanted her to know— the words were there, they were in her chest, boiling in her lungs, ripping out of her throat, burning her tongue as she opened her mouth—

“Hey, Ruby?”

She didn't lift her fingers. She kept doing what she was doing. Ruby didn't stop her, didn't even turn. “Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

Ruby's head bobbed a tiny bit. “Oh. Yeah, me too.”

“I think you're one of the girls I like.”

Ruby's head bobbed again. “Yeah. Me too. You too.”

“I like you.”

Ruby turned her head. Silver met cerulean. “I've had a crush on you since I blew us up.”

Weiss nodded. “It was the ‘riding on a nevermore’ thing, for me.”

“Really? Not more recent?”

“No.” Weiss shook her head. “Sorry I didn't tell you.”

Ruby smiled. “It's okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Weiss fixed her bra. Ruby turned. Her eyes darted down the middle of Weiss’ scandalously unbuttoned shirt. “You, uh… trying to seduce me with that?”

The heiress looked down at herself, laughed, and looked back up at her partner. “Shut up and kiss me, dolt.”

And Ruby did kiss her. It was good. 

[satureja13]

Even though Jack had such an amazing day with Lou, he couldn't wait to log out and tell the others that the second painful spot is gone! Since their therapies go so well, they don't monitor each session all together anymore. One of them is supposed to be near the one who's currently ingame, so they installed an opening in the kitchen to the therapy room.

Jack immediately took off the VR glasses and the robo arm and his shirt to show Ji Ho his progress ^^' Ji Ho: "Oh Jack, that's amazing!" Jack: "All thanks to our incredible Tiny Can! Let's show the others! Ah I'm so glad I didn't give up and went back ingame!" Ji Ho: "I'm so happy for you." Jack: "I love you too :3 "

Meanwhile Saiwa is working hard to overcome his 'bird/fake relationship/Kiyoshi/Jeb problems... He went all in in his exposure therapy and even placed flamingo lounge chairs so he can practice here too... But he's having a hard time going through all these memories again. And Vlad wasn't very helpful. He's still worrying what Caleb might do with Ji Ho in Ji Ho's therapy. Saiwa sighed: "Don't give Ji Ho a hard time, hm? Try a little harder to make him feel good so he won't fall even more for Caleb. It will soon be over and then he's yours alone. Hang on." Sai already told him this a few times before. But he also knows how hard it is to change and accept things one couldn't change.

Luckily Jack came running along with Ji Ho to disturb their gloomy thoughts with his never failing puppy energy ^^' Saiwa heard their footsteps and was alarmed. He always expects the worst when Jack is involved ö.Ö' Saiwa: "Omg - did something go wrong?" Jack: "VLAD! SAI! The second spot is already gone! Only ONE left!"

Saiwa, relieved: "That's unbelievable! I never imagined it would ever get better without you getting back together with Kiyoshi! I mean, he's your fated mate. How is it possible you can leave him just like that?" Jack: "Hey, I endured over 6 months of searing pain! Fate learned now that I'm determined! Plus I'm the Su..." The others chimed in: "Super Soldier!" (hahaha, them ^^')

They are so happy for Jack :3 There is a new area to sit outside by the river and they gathered by the fire. Jack told them about his insightful talk with Lou which also inspired the others to try to find ways to improve their relationships. And, since the Therapy Game is going so well for them, they also discussed how they could make it acessable for the creatures in the real world, as planned. They currently can't be of any help for other creatures in the Muggle World who suffer under the Council and from other hazards. The least they can do is to offer them the Therapy Game. Vlad only listens half-heartedly.

Jack tries to convince Saiwa to let him go back in his therapy before the others but Saiwa insists that they take turns. Ji Ho's therapy is important too. To finally find his buried feelings and to get this over with Caleb to prevent Vlad from going insane... Which is nearer than one might think because suddenly he jumped up in and threw a jealousy tantrum...

Jack: "We should leave them alone."

Ji Ho: "We'll talk about the game later." Only Ji Ho can fix him.

Jack: "Come on, Sai. Let them charge the Bond. We'll go and play Simbles." Sai looked questioning at Ji Ho and he nodded.

Doesn't mean it isn't still awkward as hell when they're alone...

Ji Ho eventually made the first move and carefully approached Vlad - and Vlad hissed! But Ji Ho learned not to be offended. The Bond already told him how much Vlad craves Ji Ho's touch. He just can't let his foolish pride and priciples go...

The Little Goats Satyrs have a new friend as it seems! Little Dust Bunny joined them and they are briefing him on the story hahaha

Until Little Goat heard some highly anticipated and telling noises... He sneaked around the corner to take a look.

Little Goat: 'Boys! Come over! They're doing it!!!' Little Dust Bunny: 'Whoa!' The Little Goats delivered on their promises ^^'

'Reach out, touch faith

Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there'

Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode

Ji Ho hesitantly reached out for Vlad and he looks a bit worried because he knows how much Vlad tries to avoid getting overly physical as long as Ji Ho isn't able to love him... And Ji Ho still can't get used to Vlad's hairless chest ^^'

Ji Ho: "I'm yours alone. I only want you." That's what the Bond is telling Vlad too but it's still killing him that Ji Ho is going to marry Caleb ingame. Ji Ho will make him forget it. At least for a while. Little Goats and Little Dust Bunny: 'Aouwww!'

Poor Jack and Saiwa. Let's hope they'll find love again soon too.

(I took a lot of pics of Vlad and Ji Ho in the hot tub. I'll make a little extra post like last time ^^')

Addendum: After I posted 'A Rainy Night in Soho' in the last episode, I googled around a bit for Nick Cave and this song and I found out that he and Shane had been good friends. And that Nick sang 'A Rainy Night in Soho' at Shane's funeral. I didn't cry when I heard that Shane died, but when I watched the video, I did. (I still do as I write this. Thank you for the music, Shane.)

'Now the song is nearly over We may never find out what it means Still there's a light I hold before me You're the measure of my dreams The measure of my dreams'

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[rosie-b]

Centuries Overdue

Chapter 6

Thank you @acise and @nireu-art for creating such cool art for this chapter! You can find and reblog their pieces from here and here, respectively :D

Now, where did we leave off? Oh right, Marinette is trapped in the catacombs by Adrien's corpse. How quaint : )

Happy reading!

A skeleton was collapsed by the tunnel just to the right of the one she’d emerged from, and there was an old leather journal a half a meter from its outstretched hand.

Marinette trembled; she knew that this was definitely not part of the tunnel system on the tour. No, no one was supposed to come here at all, and the last person who did…

To keep her wobbly knees distracted from giving out, Marinette stepped over to the book and picked it up, brushing a layer of dust off its cover and squinting at the title in the low light.

There was nothing on the front cover, or on the spine. She cracked it open, gingerly, just like she always did at the library.

The Tenth Journal of Adrien Agreste, she read, and then she did collapse, falling to the floor and landing hard on her kneecaps. 

“Oh, come on,” she moaned, clutching the book’s pages tightly as her gaze darted towards, and then very quickly away from, the skeleton next to her.

This was possibly the worst-case scenario for this trip. Zombies would be the real worst case, but they were only attracted to Mages, and Marinette was not a Mage. So at least she would die in peace, surrounded by abandoned tunnels and right beside her favorite author, instead of running for her life from humanoid shapes made of darkness.

Her breath shuddered through her mouth as her entire body twitched erratically. Marinette closed her eyes and breathed in deep through her nose, trying to listen for the murmurs of her group, for anything, really, to keep herself calm and give her even just a fool’s hope.

There was nothing.

She opened her eyes as a tear escaped from them.

I’m so sorry, Alya. I should have listened to you.

Marinette wasn’t sure how long she sat there, listlessly thumbing the book’s fragile pages, not caring whether they chipped or crumbled into dust. Eventually, the feeling of her phone in her back pocket made her uncomfortable enough that she shifted her position. She pulled it out of her pocket and sat criss-crossed as she turned the screen on and stared at the time.

20:14. The tour was supposed to be over by now.

Marinette frowned. Couldn’t she get just one bar of service? Enough to send a call through to the surface and get help? It felt cruel that she was so awake and alive, capable of walking through the tunnels, if not navigating them, of walking up 112 stairs and going back to the surface like any other visitor today, yet even though she was perfectly healthy, in a few days she’d be dead.

Days. It would be a slow, painful death, all alone except for a skeleton and her thoughts, which were already turning against her.

She also had a book, one written by a dead man, but what else was new.

Marinette set her phone on her lap and opened the journal up again, giving the title page another glance. She hadn’t known that there was a tenth journal; Alya hadn’t talked about it, and while Adrien had mentioned a book of spells in his ninth journal, she’d thought he was talking about one of the other books he’d written, and that he’d forgotten to take it with him on his final journey.

Apparently not. The book she was holding was labeled “Book of Spells (III)” in Adrien’s handwriting, so he had taken it with him, after all. Now, it would serve as Marinette’s only entertainment while she figured out whether to venture out in the dark beyond the concourse and get even more lost or stay here, where not even the Mages had managed to venture before.

Marinette flipped to a random page in the middle of the book. It was blank, so she flipped backward to just a few pages after the beginning of the journal and started to read, silently at first, but the quiet began to make her nervous after a while, so she read aloud.

“A spell of Tikki’s Mages.” Marinette was glad Alya had taught her the Mages’ code, so that she could understand the journal. Without it, she had a feeling that she would just go insane. “Being a spell to conjure an illness, that once it has infected the individual, will spread until he or she dies… nope. Okay, A spell of Plagg’s Mages, being a spell to conquer spreading illnesses.” She paused for a moment and snorted.

Plagg and Tikki were two paired kwamis, she remembered. They were practically soulmates, and apparently, the spells of one’s Mages would cancel the spell’s of the other’s. Wasn’t that funny? Apart, they were so powerful, but together, they were practically useless!

Marinette laughed until she gave herself a case of the hiccups, because everything was funnier when you were trapped and doomed to die in the exact same way as the person you’d promised not to go looking for, in the exact same room that they’d died in, from which their dead body was never recovered.

Okay, Marinette thought as her giggles abruptly sputtered out, that’s not very funny after all.

She returned her wandering attention back to the book. “A spell of Plagg… to place a most powerful and eternal curse,” she read, skimming through the introduction. “Well, that’s not very cheery. Tikki, what’ve you got? A spell to undo the strongest curse. Nice.”

As she began to read, she stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to stop her left foot from falling asleep. She tapped it against the ground a few times while she slowly made her way through the long spell, but that didn’t work. Annoyed, she broke the spell off and stood up, pacing around the concourse as pins and needles jabbed themselves into her foot.

“Now this is a curse,” she muttered. “Can’t a girl die in peace without her own body attacking her?”

She sighed and came to a stop by the corner where the light was coming from and noticed for the first time that there wasn’t a lamp there. There had been one in every other corner of the tunnels, at least the ones in the actual tour, but here there was no sign of a standard light source, only a pale, greenish ray extending from the limestone.

Marinette marched back over towards Adrien’s skeleton and let out a huff. She was not going to give in to fear now! The light was maybe just a remnant of one of Adrien’s spells. Maybe he’d gone off the path on purpose and lit some magic lamps as he went, to see where he was going. Maybe he’d forgotten to put a time limit on those spells, and accidentally led her astray with them and trapped her in here with him to die!

Marinette scowled at the pale bones jutting out from Adrien’s decomposing 19th century attire but reminded herself that it wasn’t his fault. He’d gotten attacked by a zombie or something, and hadn’t been able to save himself, and lost the chance to turn off the magic lights himself. Now they were just a danger to whoever managed the weird combination of turns Marinette had taken to get stuck here.

She had no one to blame but herself.

“A spell to undo the strongest curse,” she began again. “Tikki, spirit of creation, guide my thoughts and grant me luck. From dawn to dusk, and dusk to dawn; from sea to land and land to sea, creation, hear my desperate plea. What’s good is bad, and bad is good; what’s right is wrong, and wrong is right, but let the curse now come to light. Reflect the evil that’s around, and let goodness within abound, this wretched evil lift. Embrace what mortal man can’t touch, for all the world can’t cover up the monstrous half-known Gift. Mistake or madness, be undone; the endless battle shall be won when mercy’s light is in me found. For but a wish can now surpass the long reach of this Mage’s grasp, so let my spell fulfill its task. Only this do I now ask, a lucky charm for this poor lass, a miracle to me.”

There was a sudden burst of light from beside Marinette, white and hot, spreading out from Adrien’s skeleton in a ball-shaped form. Marinette closed her eyes against it, but she could feel its power even through her eyelids, and she felt a spike of fear. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she wondered whether Adrien’s spirit had heard her and taken offense at her reading of the spell which he had written. She clutched the book to her chest as the light receded and stood rigidly as she waited for something else to happen.

What if just reading a spell attracts zombies, even when you’re not magic? she wondered. What if they got mad and decided to turn Adrien into a zombie and now they'll all be coming to kill me?

That option sounded more realistic than Adrien coming back from the dead to chide her for reading his journal and didn’t do any good for Marinette’s nerves.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the light vanished. Marinette peeked one eye open, and not even the green light was still glowing. But slowly, the paler light returned, this time from a different corner. It made her more afraid, and she squeezed her eyes shut again in anticipation of what was to come.

A whimper escaped her mouth just as a groan arose from the ground at her feet.

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped at what she saw.

Adrien Agreste’s skeleton was not just a skeleton anymore. He had flash, and bones, and skin, and hair even, and he was moving, oh fuck, he was moving! He was reaching out his hand, he was getting closer, he was almost touching her!

Marinette screamed.

Adrien looked up at her. Instead of darkness or a bloodshot, wrathful gaze like she was expecting, his eyes were green, and warm, and very confused.

He opened his mouth, but looked surprised, and turned away to cough into his elbow. Then he pushed himself up to a crouch, and very slowly stood up, swaying on his feet as he looked back at Marinette.

He was unfairly handsome for a guy centuries older than her. He was unreasonably handsome, actually; he was supposed to be just a skeleton! He had just been a skeleton only minutes ago! Seconds, even!

As she stared at the full-on suit Adrien now seemed to be wearing, Marinette decided that he didn’t really seem all that murderous. He didn’t seem like he was possessed by evil zombies. He didn’t even seem like he was going to lecture her for stealing a dead man’s book and reading it out loud beside his helpless, dusty body. 

Actually, maybe Adrien was just a near-death hallucination. She’d heard that those were common.

Maybe she should say something to him, because hallucination or not, this was getting awkward, and there was only so long she could keep staring into his gorgeous green eyes while keeping her cool.

“Good evening. You’re Adrien Agreste, right?”

Adrien blinked, and his brow furrowed adora— no. Not adorably. Not remotely cute at all!

Marinette cleared her throat and tried again in English. “Hello?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?” he asked in French. 

Marinette had been trying for a response of some kind, but when it came, she found that she was so startled all she could do was take a step backwards.

His voice sounds surprisingly good for someone who’s just been reanimated, she thought, and furiously scolded herself for thinking that.

Adrien blushed. “I recognized the first thing you said, mademoiselle, but I was unable to speak just then. I apologize. What language is ‘hello?’”

Marinette blinked several times in quick succession and decided to focus on the least crazy thing. “Hello? Like, bonjour , but in English? You don’t know that word?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m afraid not, mademoiselle. I also fail to recognize the style of clothing that you’re wearing. Please, could you tell me how long it’s been since I entered the catacombs?”

Marinette coughed. “Too long for me to believe any of this is real, honestly.”

Adrien shrugged. “That’s fair enough; it’s only rarely that a Mage as powerful as you is born, so it wouldn’t surprise me if a few centuries have passed. I wasn’t expecting to be resurrected at all,” he admitted with the air of a man who had watched the sun set and was extremely (but pleasantly) surprised that it had risen again the next day.

Marinette felt the need to correct him. “I’m not a Mage,” she said. “I’m just a normal girl. I got trapped in here maybe half an hour to two hours ago; it’s been a while since I checked my phone. I think I dropped it when you woke up. You scared me, you know! It’s not every day you get a near-death hallucination, and I wasn’t expecting mine to come for a while— maybe the air quality is worse down here than I thought.”

Adrien let out a long sigh. “It seems that language has changed a lot since I was last alive,” he said. “You have a device on you that tells the time, but you dropped it? Is that right?”

Marinette nodded.

Adrien took a step back and bent down. When he straightened, he was holding her phone in his hand. 

“I’m very sorry; I stepped on it by accident. Will it still work like this?” he asked, offering it to her.

Marinette took it from him, and her stomach flipped. This hallucination had been going on for a while, and she was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t one, after all.

“It’s still good. And it’s only been an hour.”

Adrien nodded and smiled, looking rather confused by the phone and its screen, though he didn’t say anything about it.

“Only an hour, that’s good for you! As for me, could you tell me what year we are in, please?”

Marinette slid her phone back in her pocket, slowly, as her hand trembled. “2023, if I remember correctly. I could be wrong.”

Adrien closed his eyes, and the muscles in his face twitched. “It has been longer than I thought, then. I’m sure I will have trouble adjusting to the new millennium, but I must thank you that I even have the opportunity to do so. Now, let’s return to what you said earlier. If you are not a Mage, then how was I resurrected?”

Marinette frowned. “I don’t know. I really don’t know what’s going on, and I haven’t since I got lost and accidentally left the main tunnels. If this goes on for much longer I think that I’m going to either faint or scream or both.”

“Hmm. Pardon me for asking, mademoiselle, but how did you get lost?” 

Adrien had turned his gaze back to her; his sharp green eyes pinned her in place. She gulped as she began to tell her story, starting slow but talking faster and faster as she grew more nervous under Adrien’s gaze.

“I came on an official visit, but got distracted. I fell behind the tour group I came with and took a wrong turn, and then probably did it again, because I’ve never been down here before and I was totally lost. There were lanterns lighting up a path away from the dead end I’d found, but they just led me here, not back to the group. They also turned out not to be actual lanterns, which is embarrassing but kind of scary. I still don’t know where the light’s coming from,” she said, glancing towards the corner where the murky green light started. “It led me here, and then the tunnel fell dark behind me. I don’t even remember which one it was now. Then I saw you, uh, your skeleton, and I was panicking, so I picked up your journal and read it, and there was a flash of light, and you know the rest, I think.” She gestured helplessly. “I still think I might be hallucinating, or I wouldn’t be so calm. If this is what dying’s like, at least it’s not so bad; I mean, I get a hot guy to look at and everything!”

Adrien tilted his head, considering the long string of words she’d just vomited. “It might be for the best that I don’t know what that phrase means,” he said with a shy laugh. “I’m going to assume that it means my presence is calming to you since you haven’t seen another human in a while, yet it is unnerving at the same time because you think it means that you are dying. Good news; you are not dying— yet.”

Marinette swallowed hard and stared at him. Adrien offered her a tiny, not-so-reassuring smile and kept talking.

“More good news; the fact that you were able to resurrect me by reading the spells from my book is proof that you are, in fact, a Mage! One of Tikki’s Mages, and a very powerful one at that! So, with any luck, we might survive this. If you don’t believe me, mademoiselle, I have further proof to offer you: the lights you described are the same ones that led me astray over two hundred years ago. They are part of an elaborate and everlasting curse which was specifically meant to affect me alone, the one which led to my demise."

"However, Plagg and Tikki’s Mages share a bonded magic, with each group bearing one half of a whole Gift. Because you are a Mage of equal power to me, the curse affected you through that bond, which recognizes Plagg’s Gift to me and Tikki’s Gift to you as two parts of one whole and allowed the curse to affect you in just the same manner as it did me.” Adrien smiled sheepishly at Marinette as her mouth fell open and she stuttered out little aborted attempts at responding. Then he blinked, and his face sobered. “Ah, and if you can permit one more question, I have another one! You insisted you were not a Mage before, but then, you didn’t seem surprised at all to hear that I thought you were one. Do you know what they are, what magic is, or kwamis?”

Marinette was shocked. “I, uh, yes, that is, I do! I know a bit about kwamis, and a bit more about magic and Mages, but I was tested by quite a few of those, and I really don’t think that I am one! I failed all their tests,” she said with a nervous laugh.

Adrien frowned. “The only way that a curse as powerful as the one placed on me could have been lifted was if one of Tikki’s most powerful Mages read a specific spell from my book, the one that you’re still holding, mademoiselle, and the one you read from just before my sudden and unexpected revival. So, regardless of the tests you ‘failed,’ I am very certain that you are a Mage. Now; you reversed the curse which killed me, and you know about magic, and so you must know by now that this is all real. You are not hallucinating, you did not dream getting lost or finding my body or coaxing life into it again. But tell me, the light which you described— is this a new one, or is it the same as the one that led you astray before? It took a while for my eyes to adjust, or I would already know the answer, but I do not, sadly,” Adrien admitted.

Marinette pursed her lips and turned, considering the eerie light. “I think it’s a new one. The light used to come from a different corner before you woke up.”

“Before you resurrected me by undoing the curse which killed me,” Adrien corrected. “Which I am forever indebted to you for, mademoiselle. I know of no way to repay you, but I will do my best.”

Marinette turned as red as a tomato at the attention. “N-need you no,” she stammered. “Uh, I mean, thank you! You really don’t need to worry about it, though!”

Then she froze as a thought formed in her brain, which seemed to be lagging as it processed the fact that what she’d thought (almost hoped) was a hallucination was real life.

The spell she’d cast was supposed to undo curses… but who had cursed Adrien?

A vague memory entered Marinette’s mind from the very start of her internship at the library. Curse Adrien Agreste for choosing these books to write in…  

Oh, no. This was all her fault, wasn’t it?

Wringing her hands together, Marinette blurted out, “Oh, no, the curse! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to kill you! I really didn’t even know I could use magic until you got resurrected, I swear!”

“Oh, you aren’t the one who cursed me, though I would like to examine that fear of yours more closely in the future. It was my parents,” Adrien said nonchalantly, taking the book out of her arms and flipping forward a few pages. “Or rather, what’s left of them.”

In the distance, a loud noise like metal being torn sounded, and Marinette's stomach dropped.

“What was that?” she asked, taking a tiny step closer to Adrien.

“Excellent question. I was trying to figure it out before my untimely death but I didn’t make much progress. The best description I have is darkness, mockingly crafted into the form of a human being.”

Oh, so the magic zombies woke up after all. Great.  

“They can sense us,” Adrien was saying, snapping Marinette out of her panicked spiraling. “We’re both Mages, and if I’m right, our magic gives off a signal that they can follow. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this! They should know better than to go after young maidens.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, well they already tried to kill my friend, Alya, so they must not have gotten the memo.”

Adrien turned, looking at her with sorrow in his eyes. “I apologize. It is always a tragedy when evil grows bold enough to challenge us unchecked. I blame myself for not putting an end to the Darkness sooner. I should have seen it for what it was.”

Marinette felt something spark in her chest. “Hey, no, you don’t get to blame yourself for that! How were you supposed to know your parents could turn into weird, dark magic zombies? I know how hard you fought to destroy the Darkness, and I know how much you lost because of it, and how much you never had the chance to have at all. You’ve done more than anyone else to stop this Darkness. And if…” her voice trailed off as the sounds got louder, still not as loud as the thump-thump of her heart in her ears, though. 

If you couldn’t do it, then who can? She felt bad for thinking it, and guilty for the pain she was about to cause Alya. Marinette swallowed and clenched her fist at her side as her thoughts tugged her down a dark path. She hadn’t listened when she’d told her to stay home, she hadn’t listened to her suspicions that she was a Mage; she’d gone to the catacombs by herself instead, and now she was going to pay the steep price for her folly.

A light touch at her wrist stirred her mind out of its spiral. She startled, turning to look at Adrien, who pulled his hand back from hers and offered her a small smile.

“You’re right that I fought them before with all I had. But we’re going to have to give them one last fight,” he said calmly. “We’re going to give the effort everything we’ve got. And if it doesn’t work, if we don’t make it out of here, then allow me to say that I am honored to go down fighting beside someone as strong of heart as you are.”

Marinette stared up at him. “I— I’m not really what you think,” she whispered. “I’m not a true Mage. And I know that I’m not a fighter. I’ve never faced anyone the way we’re going to have to, when they find us here. I can’t do it,” she said bitterly, shaking her head.

Adrien looked down at her with something like guilt in his eyes. “I told you, your magic is equal to mine. You might not know how to fight, but you can read a spell, and this book has plenty of them. I swear, I will do everything I can to protect you, but you’re going to have to help me if you want to make it out of here alive,” he spoke in a rush. The footsteps were getting louder. He reached out, slowly enough to broadcast his movements, and took her hand in his, squeezing it as if by doing so he could pass his own strength on to her. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but won’t you stand with me this once? You’ve already proved your strength by resurrecting me, mademoiselle— uh. Actually, may I know your name?”

Marinette found it was hard to refuse Adrien when he was looking at her with such an earnest, soft expression. “Marinette,” she whispered. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Nice to officially meet you, Marinette. My name is Adrien Agreste,” he said, and her lips twitched up into a smile.

“I know.”

A light blush spread over his cheeks. “Oh right, my name was in the journal. Which you’ll be needing again, so here, take it!” He handed it to her, and she gingerly accepted it. 

“Do you really think I can do this? What if the first time was a fluke?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No spell that powerful could ever be done by accident, if that’s what you mean. It will work, I promise.”

Marinette took a shaky breath. “Okay. Then I promise that I’ll try.” It was the least she could do, at this point.

Adrien nodded, satisfied. “It’s open to a spell that should offer us some protection, once you speak it. I’ll distract the first… beings, for as long as I can. And, Marinette?” Adrien turned that same earnest expression to her, and she couldn’t look away. “Believe in yourself. You’re more powerful than you know.”

The tunnels surrounding them lit with a pale green light, and Adrien stepped in front of Marinette, holding his hands out in a defensive stance.

“Plagg, claws out.” 

A richer green light flashed around him, and a staff appeared in his hand. 

The first zombie stepped into the room with them, and before Marinette had a chance to take in its mockingly human features, Adrien was already attacking it, lashing out with his staff and forcing it back before moving on to the next zombie. Now that the first one was down, the rest poured into the room quicker, and though Adrien did his best to hold them back, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and there was no place for Marinette to hide in the midst of the fight.

Under the eerie light of the tunnels, she traced her finger over the words of the spell Adrien had left his book open to. She didn’t feel ready to try magic again, but Adrien was counting on her, and even if she wasn’t a powerful Mage like he’d thought, she owed it to him to try and help.

“Tikki, spots on.” A red flash briefly surrounded her, and suddenly, she was holding a yo-yo. It was red, with black spots, and as soon as the zombies saw that she was holding it, they began to attack more ferociously. A few of them made it past Adrien while he was fighting on the other side of the room, and Marinette’s heart pounded fearfully.

“Spin the yo-yo, it works like a shield!” Adrien called to her. A zombie grabbed hold of his arm while he was speaking, but he touched it with his right hand and called, “Cataclysm!” The zombie hissed and sparked with a black energy before seeming to dissolve. 

The other zombies wailed, a chilling, otherworldly sound that nearly paralyzed Marinette. But she did as Adrien told her to, and even though they rushed toward her in rage, none of the zombies made it past her shield. Turning this way and that, she held them off, occasionally whacking ones that got too close on the head. They never stayed down long, and as still more zombies poured into the room, Marinette felt despair well up in her heart.

“Cataclysm!” Adrien called out again, and this time he touched a group of zombies packed all together. All of them were affected by the spell’s power, and as they faded, a pocket of empty space briefly appeared around Adrien and Marinette.

“Is there another spell that can help us?” she asked him. Her right arm was beginning to feel the strain of constantly needing to spin the yo-yo for protection, and she had the journal tucked under her left arm so tightly that she could feel the imprint of its edges on her body. 

“There’s always another spell, but there’s always a consequence for it,” Adrien said, moving to stand back-to-back with her as the zombies closed in on them. “The most powerful ones in my arsenal would collapse the tunnels on us, and I’m not a master of Tikki’s own spells; I don’t know which ones would work in this situation.”

“But there must be something!” Marinette cried in panic. “Use Cataclysm on them again and buy us some time!”

Adrien obeyed, and another pocket of space opened up. Marinette took advantage of the short amount of time free from zombies to flip through the book and find an appropriate spell to use.

“Teapots, galette des rois, fork, stone, why are none of these spells helpful? What are they even for?”

Adrien shrugged and lunged forward to catch a zombie who was leading the third charge towards them. “Tikki’s Mages were never focused on war magic; they’re mostly pacifists. Otherwise, I think the last battle against the Darkness would have gone a bit differently,” he muttered. “No offense to them, of course! Creation is by its nature in conflict with that of war. And many of those Mages offered what help they could. But to use their spells effectively, they had to get creative .” He took the time to flash a smile at her before lashing out with another spell.

Marinette noticed that the zombies were getting closer to her again, and quickly resumed spinning her yo-yo shield. “Is now really the best time for puns?”

“Now is always the best time for puns,” Adrien retorted. “Cataclysm!”

Marinette rolled her eyes as her mind raced ahead, trying to come up with a solution. There was a short spell on the same page as the one Adrien’s ‘Cataclysm’ was on; like the others towards the front of the book, it seemed to be the opposite of Plagg’s spell, but it seemed like it might be useful to her. Unless, of course, it canceled out Cataclysm entirely.

“Adrien!” she called, still fighting off the endless surge of zombies attacking her.

Adrien turned to glance at her while keeping his own shield up. “What?”

“Do all my spells cancel out your spells? Like, if I use the one by Cataclysm, will the zombies you touched come back?”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Not necessarily. You would need to use the Miracle Cure for that, but even then, we’re fighting in tandem. Our powers should recognize that and work together, so—” he paused to fight off a particularly vicious pair of zombies, “—your magic should recognize the Darkness as what’s wrong. If you use the Cure, it would try to undo the Darkness, the ultimate cause of these beings, the zombies, as you called them. It is a fitting name for them,” he said. 

Marinette ducked as a zombie leapt towards her and turned to drive it back. “Really? How so?” She knew zombies didn’t always mean the brain-hungry monsters of television, but she was surprised that Adrien even knew what the word meant.

“Because they’re not just figures of Darkness! They were people, once, but they’ve been corrupted by magic, forced to serve the Darkness until they’re released from their bodies.”

“Until they’re killed,” Marinette gasped. The next zombie to attack her nearly succeeded in grabbing her, but Adrien rushed over just in time, cataclysming it and turning it into ash in front of her eyes. 

“They’re already dead,” he said mournfully. “In every way that really counts. And since it’s been so long, since they’ve been trapped in this hell for centuries, I think they would consider this a mercy, if they could think.”

A zombie wailed and hissed as he struck it with his baton and drove it back against the others. 

“What do you mean? They can’t think at all?”

“They’re possessed, Marinette. I still don’t know by whom, but they are. My own parents wielded the curse that killed me. If they were themselves, if they could think and resist, they would never have done that to their own son.”

Marinette gazed through the thin shield she’d created at the zombies on the other side. They truly seemed to be made of darkness, like they were humans that had become like black holes, impossible to look at for long except for when a flash of green light would trace around them and give them the illusion of features.

“Then how did you know they were your parents?” she asked.

Adrien didn’t respond. He called for another Cataclysm instead, clearing most of the room now that the zombies were so tightly packed together.

A fourth wave quickly appeared.

And this time, Marinette could see how Adrien had known it was them.

These zombies were not like the rest. They were not made of darkness, not entirely, at least. Their features were like that of regular humans, but their eyes were inky black, and they moved as if they were sleepwalking, as if this was just a dream, like she’d once thought. But many of them were coated in blood, brown and dry, that had once oozed from their heads, their chests, their necks.

The two leading the others looked like Adrien. The woman had light blonde hair, while the man’s was graying. Unlike the others, they didn’t seem to have any blood on them. If it weren’t for their eyes, she never would have known anything was wrong with them.

But the woman opened her mouth, and a gurgling sound came from her throat, like she was choking on water. They had drowned. They’d drowned, and their bodies were lost. They were here. 

They were possessed. They’d killed their own son.

Marinette felt sick. 

“A…drien,” Emilie Agreste said slowly, her jaw's movement like that of a gate long rusted shut, now being forced to open. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You should not be alive,” her husband agreed in the same unearthly voice.

Adrien’s spine stiffened. “Cataclysm,” he whispered, and held the glowing ball of destruction in his fist like a threat.

“Your magic will not save you,” Gabriel said, and his voice was growing stronger. “Nor will hers.”

“The Mages must die. You are a plague on the earth, and I have been far too kind,” Emilie hissed.

Marinette felt panic clawing at her throat. “Lucky Charm!” she called at last, remembering the words of the spell she’d found. 

Gabriel lunged forward and caught the object before it had time to finish forming. “Cataclysm,” he said.

The object turned into ash, and Marinette’s mouth went dry.

“I thought they weren’t Mages,” she whispered fearfully.

Adrien looked at her from the side of his eyes. “They weren’t,” he said. “Their curse gave them magic, somehow. They can use as many powers as they want. We can’t stop them.”

“We have to,” Marinette said desperately. Adrien stepped closer to her and took her free hand, squeezing it in his. 

“We will try,” he assured her.

The zombies still weren’t attacking, but Emilie gave them a beckoning wave, and they filed into the room, lining its walls and blocking off the other tunnels. 

Adrien and Marinette readied their shields. Emilie summoned a trompo and smirked at them in a way very unlike the gentle woman Marinette had pictured while reading her journals.

“Venom,” she called brightly.

Marinette was frozen before she knew what had happened. All she could do was gaze ahead in fearful awe, though her head seemed to be free to move, unlike the rest of her body.

Adrien groaned. Checking her periphery, Marinette could tell that he’d been frozen, too.

Well, there were worse things that could’ve happened, Marinette thought as she eyed Gabriel’s open fist.

“Your little game has gone on too long, Mages,” Emilie told them with a smile. “You should take some time to prepare for the end.”

The Agrestes turned to stand by the one open tunnel, like sentries guarding their post. The light in the tunnels turned from a sickly green to a brilliant white, and the darkness was gone.

Adrien murmured something hurriedly under his breath, and the stiffness keeping Marinette in place released. She staggered forward, and the zombies gave her a warning glare.

“Please don’t bother trying,” Gabriel sniffed from his place by the tunnel entrance.

Marinette turned back to Adrien, who was wincing and rubbing his arm.

“What did you do?”

“An adapted version of a spell,” he said. “I wasn’t sure it would work. I used a small curse to counteract Venom. It won’t be enough.” He eyed the tunnel warily as the room grew even brighter, until finally Marinette had to close her eyes against the scorching light.

Then it faded.

“There you are, little Mages,” the voice from before crooned. It filled the whole room; it shook the floor and the ceiling and seemed to echo on eternally. “Yield to me, and I will keep you alive.”

Adrien gasped, and Marinette cracked open her eyes. In front of them stood a huge being, bright white and pink, with six arms and five teal eyes. They had curved antennae and gauzy wings, and the brightness seemed to emanate from them. All around them, the tunnels dissolved, leaving a dark void like space, though the zombies remained, surrounding them in a large circle.

“It’s impossible!” Adrien cried. “From where are you drawing your power, that you can take this form? Only the kwamis may wield this much magic!”

The being offered them a grim smile.

“I am the eldest and wisest of the kwamis,” they said in a double-toned voice. “I am everything that was, and is, and will be. My power is infinite; to fight me is to bring about your own destruction. Yield, little Mages, that your lives may be spared.”

Written for @mlbigbang 2023

[princessconsuela120]

✰LITTLE WISHES✰

—✰

summary: you and Sebastian decorate your baby's nursery.

Warnings: none, teeth rotting fluff. (y/f/n = your friends name)

Authors Note: i made the friend a raven claw and the reader is implied as a Hufflepuff but you can make it whatever. don't forget to leave requests, my inbox is collecting dust i need inspo! enjoy guys!!

—✰

DOMESTICITY WAS BLISS. It was in all its entity, love and life. You and your husband had been lost from domestic bliss all your lives. Both losing your families, and having to live on your own resources, finally feeling that love in amazing. It seemed the smile couldn’t leave your face as you felt your chest heat with love, a hand held protectively over the curve of you baby bump. Since finding out you were expecting, it was a shock to both you and Sebastian when you fell pregnant only a few months after graduating Hogwarts. Yes, being 18 and having a baby was crazy for you both, but you soon grew to love it. You had the amazing support from friends and family, Professor Fig had even bought himself a worlds best grandpa mug in finding out. Anne and Ominis had already started looking for baby clothes the second you told them. And it was amazing, all of the love that was given to you. 

But no one was more amazing than your husband, Sebastian. When he first found out he was terrified. He even disappeared for a few days, renting a room at the three broomsticks and according to Sirona, had drunk his weight in fire whiskey. You stayed with Ominis and Anne in their small cottage for his time away, until Ominis talked sense into Sebastian. Since the day he returned he hasn’t left your side, let alone let his hands stray from your stomach for more than a few minutes. And it was bliss, truly… This became even clearer to you as you and your friends worked on the nursery for the arrival of the baby in just a few months.

“Alright, green for these three, and yellow for this wall…right?” Sebastian asked, waving around his paintbrush haphazardly as he pointing to each wall in the room. You nodded, smiling at him as he raised a curious eyebrow.

“Perfect.” You replied, making him sigh happily. Yes, you were being those people and painting the nursery the colors of your Hogwarts houses, but who cares, you were 18 and new to this idea.

“It’s like the best of both worlds.” He cheered, placing his paint brush in the bucket before coming over to you quickly, rubbing your bump and kissing you lips before continuing.

“Isn’t it?” You asked, following after him before he quickly turned around, carefully pushing you back towards the doorway.

“Ah, bap-bap-bap.” 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he stepped back into the room grabbing his bucket of paint.

“What?”

“Get away. Away! You need to be at least six feet away from this new paint.” Sebastian explained, holding his arms out to symbolize 6 feet away from the paint.

“Oh come on now.”

“It’s true. The smell could seep into your brain and you might convince yourself you’re a moon calf and only come out at night.” He explained, making you laugh.

“I don’t think that’s true, love.”

“It is. Ominis told me.”

“Oh well, if Ominis told you it must be true.” You teased, making him nod as he gently pushed you away.

“Exactly. Ominis is always right.”

As if on queue, Ominis, Anne and your ravenclaw best friend, y/f/n, walk into the room.

“I am, aren’t I?” Ominis says, walking over to sit beside you and kisses your head. “How are you this evening sweetheart?” He asked kindly, making you smile as you rubbed your large bump.

“I’m lovely, thank you for asking.”

“Ominis, mate, perfect timing. Come help me paint.” Ominis scoffed.

“I’m blind, how am I supposed to help?” He teased, making Sebastian point at him.

“You know that excuse can’t work forever.” He explained, making ominis shrug.

“It’s worked for 8 years so far.”

“Ugh, whatever. Anne, come help.” Sebastian whined, making you all laugh at him as Anne giggled at her brother painting the walls carefully.

“Why are you painting anyway? We have magic you know?” Y/f/n said, flicking her wand at the far wall, covering it in green paint.

“You know what y/f/n, just because you’re a Ravenclaw doesn’t mean you’re any smarted than me, okay?” Sebastian whined, genuinely having forgetter he could have been done by now. He felt the need to prove to you that he could do it without magic, and he was confident he could. 

“Yes, but just that fact that she’s alive and breathing does mean she’s smarter than you.” Ominis remakred, making Sebastian groan, hurrying his head in your shoulder with frustration.

“You know what? If you aren’t gonna help me, kindly shut your mouth, thanks.” He hissed, flicking paint at ominis as he laughed.

“Someone has a tude.” Anne mumbled, making you nod.

“Always. When doesn’t he?” You teased, causing Seb to yell from the other room.

“Heard that!” He continued painting as Anne came to help, making him yell at her as she started painting a fluorescent blue bird. “No! Anne no, stop! The jobberknoll’s don’t go on the green wall they go on the yellow one!” He rolled his eyes, taking the paint brush and walking to the far wall, pouting as he carried his ladder. “Merlin’s beard, if I want things done I have to do them myself!” He grumbled, causing eruptions of laughter to sound in the small nursery.

[moodymelanist]

But If I’m A Thief (Then He Can Join The Heist)

happy day 6 of @nessianweek everyone!! this is the third and final part of the fics I posted for @nestaarcheronweek and @cassianappreciationweek. hope you enjoy ❤️‍🔥

Summary: The Valkyries team up with Azriel and Mor to get Cassian back.

Word Count: 3,780

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta 

Everything had been going straightforwardly enough until Cassian took a tranquilizer dart to the neck.

“Cassian?” Nesta said, her eyes going a little wide as she watched him drop to the floor like a sack of very well-muscled bricks. This wasn’t supposed to happen; in all the missions she’d crossed paths with him, they’d both walked away relatively unscathed each time. “Cassian!”

As badly as she wanted to check on him and make sure he was still breathing, Nesta’s training had been hammered into her far too brutally to leave herself this exposed. She flung herself backward into a handspring to get away from the sliding glass door as quickly as she could, landing gracefully in a corner of the room that she hoped fell into whoever had shot Cassian’s blind spot. 

She barely had a moment to catch her breath before all hell broke loose, even more so than when the Valkyries had been interrupted. Both of the balcony doors suddenly shattered, the sound of the glass hitting the floor nearly deafening, and she quickly pulled one of her knives out so she could defend herself from this unexpected attack. The Valkyries’ briefing had been very clear on potential enemy combatants; whoever was coming now certainly wasn’t on the list.

“Perimeter breached!” Nesta yelled in warning. She heard Emerie and Gwyn stop their fights as a few men dressed in all-black protective gear swung through the wide-open balcony, stun batons, knives, and guns at the ready. The suite was far too small to safely use any firearms, but Nesta had a feeling their giant machine guns were more of a power move than anything else. 

Typical. Nesta took a deep breath before her mind went battle-blank, darting to the side so she wouldn’t get trapped in the corner once punches started getting thrown. She didn’t get very far before one of the men barked out orders, and then it was disorganized chaos. These men didn’t have nearly the same level of training as Cassian and his friends did, but what they lacked in finesse they made up for in numbers as another round of men swung their way into the room after the first one. 

As she ducked, dodged, and weaved, Nesta realized she’d seen that symbol before. She wasn’t exactly sure when , but she trusted her mind enough to know it would come to her eventually. For now, she just had to focus on getting through this fight.

Nesta steadily fought her way out of the corner she’d placed herself into, Emerie and Gwyn coming to help her like the well-oiled machines they were. She didn’t have to overthink, knowing that when she went low Emerie would sweep a kick over her head, and if she went high Gwyn would be waiting to aim her hits at their enemies’ knees. She got the occasional assist from Azriel and Morrigan, but for the most part, the two teams worked independently.

Eventually, the men streaming in realized they weren’t winning this fight, and started to retreat instead of sending more men in. They didn’t even bother trying to rescue some of their unconscious comrades, the ones left standing just turning and high-tailing it out of there rather than finish their fights. Cowards.

“Cassian?” Azriel called out once the dust had quite literally settled. There was no response, and Nesta watched his body somehow tense up even further as he did a quick sweep of the room and realized his friend was gone. “Fuck.”

Nesta couldn’t help herself from tensing up either – whoever these men were, they’d taken Cassian right from under her nose, and she was silently fuming about it. Cassian was hers to tease and spar and run off with.

“We need to get him back,” Morrigan said, brushing plaster out of her bright hair. Maybe she’d thrown one of the men into the wall; Nesta allowed herself to be slightly impressed. “Immediately.”

Nesta quickly exchanged glances with Emerie and Gwyn, both of whom clearly knew what Nesta was going to say next judging by the resigned expressions on their faces. “We’ll help.”

“Why?” Morrigan asked, clearly skeptical. “You don’t know him.”

“I owe him a debt,” Nesta answered. It wasn’t a complete lie – he’d done her enough little favors over the last few years that surely the least she could do was help him in return. “This will settle it.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Azriel interjected quietly. He looked so much like Cassian that Nesta might’ve guessed they were brothers had she not done her own research on them. 

“You don’t,” Emerie told him, shrugging, “but you know how we were trained. Trust in that.”

Azriel and Morrigan exchanged glances, clearly communicating without words. After a few moments, Morrigan shrugged and turned back to the face the Valkyries. “Fine. But if you get him killed…”

“We’re not amateurs,” Gwyn fired back with a roll of her eyes. “We don’t lose packages.”

“I know who took him,” Nesta interrupted before Morrigan could respond, recognition finally lighting up in her mind. “That symbol. We saw some of them last spring – that mission in Marseille.”

The mission had run pretty smoothly, all things considered, but Nesta remembered seeing that same red wing symbol on some of the men’s uniforms. They’d been tasked with stealing some data from an insurgent group who’d stopped in France for one reason or another, and it hadn’t been too hard to take it.

“Do you have a name?” Azriel asked, pulling out a little tablet. Nesta had no idea where he’d stashed it in the tight cut of his uniform, but she wasn’t going to ask any questions. 

“I can send you the file,” Emerie offered. She pulled out her work phone and tapped through it for a few moments, finding what she was looking for quickly and sending it to Azriel. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Azriel murmured. 

“Let’s get out of here while you do your guy in the chair thing,” Morrigan suggested, using her foot to nudge one of the downed men with a disgusted look on her face. “The vibes in here aren’t… great.”

Thankfully once they all made it out of the room and back downstairs – Gwyn making sure to pocket the drive they’d come to steal before they did – it didn’t take long for Azriel to somehow find a likely candidate for where Cassian was being held. From what Nesta remembered, these men weren’t particularly organized, so it probably hadn’t been too hard to figure out where they were.

As they waited for Azriel to send the coordinates, Nesta took a few moments to flip through the file Emerie had and refresh her memory. A man named Kallon seemed to be the insurgents’ leader, an American who’d joined the military right out of high school and had grown quickly disillusioned. She didn’t know what he’d want with Cassian other than to piss off his former bosses, but her job wasn’t to figure out Kallon’s potential motives. She just had to get Cassian back.

Once Azriel sent the coordinates, the five of them hashed out a rough plan. Gwyn had pulled up the blueprints of the building and found the vents would be big enough for the smallest of them to squeeze through, so Nesta and Mor were tasked with wriggling around up there until they found where Cassian was. From there, Azriel, Gwyn, and Emerie would provide reinforcements and help them make a quick getaway.

It was a solid enough plan, but as Nesta crawled through the vents, she found herself half wishing she could’ve swapped places with Gwyn or Emerie. She was the shortest of the three of them, but she wasn’t that much shorter.

“… making a huge mistake,” Cassian’s voice echoed through the vents. Thank God he was awake now; hopefully whatever they’d given him didn’t have any long-term effects. “Seriously. Just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened.”

“I don’t think you’re exactly prepared to bargain, Commander,” someone sneered in response. The voice was male, American accent; from the sheer entitlement in his tone, Nesta would guess he was maybe mid-20s or early 30s. Perhaps this was Kallon, their group’s leader. “Besides, we don’t bargain with terrorists, remember?”

Definitely American. Nesta held back her eye roll as she continued to slowly move through the vents, crawling as fast as she could without making any noise while she followed the sound of Cassian’s voice. “Friendly fire is bad form, man.”

“Just because we’re from the same country doesn’t mean we’re on the same side,” the other man replied snidely. Nesta crawled past another few rooms before she found the right one, and the man turned just enough that Nesta was able to get a glimpse of his face and confirm her suspicions that this was Kallon. “Man.”

Nesta pulled a tiny screwdriver out of her utility belt, unscrewing the top of the panel and thanking her lucky stars that the opening was big enough that she could get into the room. After a few minutes of her messing with it, she finally got the damn panel off, wasting no time in silently dropping down into the room behind Kallon. 

He was so wrapped up in his monologue that he didn’t even hear her approach, but Cassian did. His eyes flicked to her and right back to Kallon instantly, letting her know that he knew she was there without blowing her cover.

Before Nesta did anything, she made sure to sweep over Cassian to check for injuries. He was sitting in an uncomfortable-looking chair, each of his wrists handcuffed to the corresponding arm of the chair. He didn’t look visibly injured, mostly just annoyed that he was stuck in this position, and something like relief spread from Nesta’s chest at having visual confirmation that he was alright.

She made sure to smile at him before drawing her gun.

“I’ve always heard that three’s a party,” Nesta said, clicking the safety off just as she pressed it against the back of Kallon’s head. “Why don’t we break this one up?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Kallon said back. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Nesta answered. She tapped her earpiece a few times to send her exact location to the rest of the team, hoping they’d be able to move in quickly once Kallon lost his temper. “I just need you to let my friend here go, and we won’t have any more problems.”

“We’re friends?” Cassian jumped in with a giant grin. Nesta fought the urge to facepalm and instead tightened her grip on her gun, knowing it wouldn’t be much longer before Kallon snapped. Men like them always did. “Wow. You just made my night, sweetheart.”

“More than rescuing you?” Nesta fired back incredulously. What an idiot. “Your priorities are seriously out of order.”

“No, you have your priorities out of order,” Kallon snapped. He turned and tried to force the gun out of Nesta’s hands, but she’d been expecting that. She quickly dodged his maneuver and they grappled for a few moments, Kallon trying to use his height and bulk against her, but she was used to that. It was child’s play to use his weight against him, and once she had him on the defensive it was all too easy to render him unconscious with a particularly nasty hit to the head.

Nesta had all of ten seconds to take stock before she heard the sound of several people approaching the room she and Cassian were in. Azriel and Morrigan came in first, relief written all over them at the sight of Cassian unharmed, while Emerie and Gwyn brought up the rear with matching knowing expressions as they looked at Nesta. Thankfully, her friends didn’t have time to silently tease her given the amount of people they’d brought with them. 

Even though they brought more of Kallon’s henchmen with them, they were nothing under the combined might of the five of them, but one of the henchmen’s guns went off. Nesta ducked on instinct even though the bullet came nowhere near her, hoping no one on her side was injured as she continued her fight.

“Mother fucker,” Cassian hissed. Nesta finished dispatching the henchman she’d been grappling with and turned to see Cassian pressing down hard against his side where his protective padding wasn’t as heavy. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, in no mood for his ego to get in the way if he needed medical attention. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“If I say it’s just a graze,” he began, wincing at the darkening expression on her face, “would you believe me?”

“No,” she told him curtly. She found the key to the handcuffs on Kallon’s person and quickly freed Cassian’s wrists, taking a moment to rub the feeling back into his wrists since his hands were otherwise occupied. “Can you stand? I don’t know if I can support you all the way out.”

“I’ve got him,” Azriel said, abruptly reminding Nesta that she wasn’t alone in the room with Cassian. She forced herself to take a few steps back so Azriel could step in, throwing Cassian’s arm over his shoulder as he helped Cassian to stand. “I don’t care what you say, Cass. Mor’s calling medical.”

“I already called them,” Morrigan confirmed. She stepped in to support Cassian’s other side, the three of them slowly making their way toward the exit. “Why does it always have to be you?”

It was all too easy to fade away during the commotion. Cassian was back with the people who cared about him, and Nesta didn’t need to be here to distract them any further. Besides, she wasn’t exactly trying to explain to the United States government what she was doing here, so she, Emerie, and Gwyn slipped into the shadows.

Nesta wasn’t worried about finding him again. She always did.

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Cassian 

When Cassian was released from medical almost a week and a half later, he wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting for him outside his hospital room. Azriel and Mor were far too busy playing catch up with all the paperwork that had resulted from his brief kidnapping, so he’d expected to make his way home on his own, maybe call an Uber and order some takeout before passing out on the couch.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see Nesta waiting for him outside his hospital room. He didn’t even want to know how she’d managed to get inside the facility, let alone to sit outside his room like this, but he wasn’t going to complain. She was wearing a plain white shirt and blue jeans, and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. 

Nesta looked… different in her civilian clothes, in a way that Cassian couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way she carried herself when she wasn’t on a mission, or maybe it was the soft smile she’d allowed him to see as she responded to a text on her phone. As highly trained as she was, there was no way she didn’t know he was standing there watching her, but he appreciated the little glimpse that she’d given him nonetheless. 

“Nesta,” Cassian said after a few extra moments of studying her. She locked her phone and looked up at him, her eyes sweeping over him in clear assessment. He could only hope she liked what she found. “What are you doing here?”

“Someone had to make sure you didn’t fuck up all the doctors’ hard work on your way home,” she said back, standing. “We drew straws.”

“We?” he asked. His heart was beating overtime at being so close to her even though they weren’t in a life or death situation, and he hoped he wasn’t showing how nervous he suddenly was on his face.

“Your friends and mine,” she answered with a wry tilt of her mouth. “I lost, obviously.”

“More like you won,” he fired back, thankful his nerves at being so near to her weren’t stopping him from keeping up with their usual banter. 

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree,” she told him with an adorable snort. She motioned to the hallway in front of her and turned to him expectantly. “Shall we?”

He was more than happy to let her lead the way toward the exit. “We shall.”

When they made it downstairs, Cassian wasn’t surprised to see that Nesta had somehow acquired his car keys in the few minutes they’d chatted outside his room. He’d spent far too much time around spies and highly trained agents to let their little tricks surprise him, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t excite him a little bit that she was the one doing it. 

“Do I need to give you my address?” Cassian asked once they were both in his car. He didn’t know how she’d managed to get access to it, but he doubted she’d gone through all the effort of breaking into his building just to take his car. Azriel or Mor had probably just helped her out.

Nesta turned and gave him an incredulous look, still gorgeous even as she stared at him like he was a little bit of an idiot. “Don’t be insulting.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he replied, laughing. He had to stop once his stitches throbbed in protest, but the pain was worth it to see the tiny smile she’d given him in response. “I didn’t want to assume.”

He reached over and hit one of the radio presets so they wouldn’t have to ride in silence, and the soft music easily filled the drive back to his place. He was only about twenty minutes from the hospital, the drive finishing so quickly that he worried that those few precious minutes were all he’d get to spend with her.

As Nesta deftly parked in his regular parking space, Cassian found he shouldn’t have bothered worrying. “Come on. You need to take your pain meds and get into bed.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied agreeably. He slowly got out of the car and shuffled his way to the nearest elevator, hitting the right buttons so they could make it to his floor safely. “This is me.”

“I’m surprised the feds let you have so many neighbors,” she remarked casually as they walked down the hallway. 

“I fought like hell for a regular building,” he answered, reaching into his back pocket for his keys before he remembered she still had them. She handed them over with a teasing look so he could unlock his front door and he huffed a laugh. “I’m too old to be living on base, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think thirty-one is old at all,” she told him. She followed him inside his apartment and made sure to lock the door behind them, her eyes sweeping over his living room out of what he presumed was a force of habit. “It was on your hospital bracelet. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

“What, you could look up my home address but you had to rely on my hospital bracelet to find out my birthday?” he teased, slowly making his way over to his overlarge sectional. “And thank you.”

“I didn’t want to seem too stalkerish,” she teased right back. She disappeared from his field of view for a moment before returning with a glass of water and some of his pain medication. “Here. You need to take this to stay on schedule.”

He popped the pills in his mouth and drank the whole glass of water, sighing in relief when the medication kicked in quickly. They must have given him the really good shit. “If you were my stalker, I certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Nesta asked, huffing a laugh as she perched on the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, but this isn’t my best material,” Cassian answered. He settled back further into the couch and awkwardly draped one of the nearby blankets over himself, not bothering to hold back his smile when she reached out to fix it for him. “The pain meds are just making me loopy.”

“I would make you some food to help, but you don’t want me in your kitchen,” she replied.

“Maybe I want you in my bedroom instead,” he fired back, trying to wink but failing epically. 

“This definitely isn’t your best material,” she said with a snort.

They fell into a brief silence, which he almost immediately broke once his brain caught onto the fact that she would probably be leaving soon. She’d gotten him from point A to point B, saw him safely to his apartment, and made sure he’d taken his pain medication. What else was there for her to do? She probably had much better things to do than sit around and watch him drool on his couch.

“I don’t want this to be the last time I see you,” Cassian said suddenly. Pain medication aside, he liked doing this with Nesta even more outside of work, and he didn’t want to squander his chance of doing it again. “In a non-lethal setting, at least.”

“And what kind of setting do you want to see me again in?” Nesta questioned with a tilt of her head.

“One with fancy dinner and a nice ambiance,” he quipped back, thankful he was firing on enough cylinders to at least make his intentions clear.

She smiled. “Ask me again when you’re not this sleepy and I’ll think about it.”

“But how will I get to ask you again?” he asked, trying his best to fight the sudden wave of drowsiness and losing badly. Damn, they really had given him the good stuff.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. She reached out to subtly adjust the blanket so he was better covered before shifting off the couch altogether. “We’ll work something out.”

Once Cassian woke up from his medication-induced nap, Nesta was nowhere to be found. However, there was a still-hot bag of Chinese food on his coffee table and an invitation to one of the nicer restaurants in his neighborhood waiting in his calendar app, so he figured that was enough to make up for it. It probably hadn’t been hard for her to get into his phone with him lying there dead to the world, but who knows what had happened after he’d fallen asleep. Besides, when it came to her, he wasn’t going to question yet another good thing.

Well? Nesta had written in the invitation notes. Are you awake enough now?

Cassian couldn’t smash the accept invitation button fast enough.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard

[bearpillowmonster]

Hawkeye

I actually started this and it was cheesy and by the book in that opening with young Kate so I turned it off. I ended up coming back at some point and really, that's not all it is. Sometimes, it is like a Disney Channel show and it can be shot weird, very static in a kinetic type of show but then it cuts to Clint and really, it makes you feel what it's supposed to. It starts with him at a musical based around the events of the Avengers, you know, this event that was really tragic for a lot of people and the amount of stress it put on the heroes to stop it and seeing all your friends that you lost the last go around singing and dancing. It's sad. Then he leaves, goes to the bathroom and some guy wants to take a selfie and he's bugged because of it. After witnessing that, you don't feel like a hero, after being Ronin, after your family getting dusted, losing friends and you read 'Thanos was right' on the urinal. These people just can't leave you alone, you want out of the game and live with the family you fought to save, you don't need special treatment.

But you also understand the opposite side because if you reappear one day, your life won't be the same. Your wife might've left you, your job might not exist anymore, they foreclosed your house and someone else moved in, your money is distributed to next in line, insurance sure as heck wasn't going to pay out and now for the other people, their lives are being invaded by ghosts essentially, maybe they had a position and then re-instate who was there before.

I've only been a very lowkey fan of Hawkeye because really, all his content was in other people's movies, I can quote the beginning of Endgame because of how much I loved it and felt the connection, and this show only builds on it and instantly makes the family dynamic actually enjoyable. Just can't say the same for Kate, they make the mom introducing her new fiance, it's kind of cliche. She can talk a lot more than needed sometimes, but occasionally she'll say something that was heard earlier in the episode like the selfie guy but with an autograph and it'll be viewed in a different context. I like Hailee Steinfeld and I don't hate Kate, I kind of like how they use her to show that she has a different approach to things than he does-

-but a lot of what I didn't like stemmed from her and I like literally every other Hailee Steinfeld role I've seen more aside from maybe an unrelated few. Then I'm about to say something that you won't like. It introduces a bunch of characters for other storylines in other media. Yelena for example makes an appearance. Echo makes her first appearance, spinning off into her own show. We get Hawkeye passing the torch to Kate. We have Kingpin for Daredevil's return. There's a lot going on and for 6 nearly 40 minute episodes, that's a lot to pack in there but...it does it, like, I can't even complain, it's not bad, I don't feel overstuffed, it all felt natural.

With Echo, they play off of Clint having his hearing aid and Maya's deafness. Hit. With Yelena, she was hunting him from the end of Black Widow and plays on his trauma of losing Natasha. Hit. Kingpin plays into it because it centers around all the gangs he fought as Ronin so it makes sense for him to be at the top. And Kate, I've already talked about. None have powers btw.

I think part of it is a lesson that can be learned and that's how spending too much time outside of your main characters can be harmful to those around them when they aren't involved in the main plot. With all the characters I mentioned, you rarely see them outside of Clint and Kate's plot, they are a part of it without being the side-chick with their own separate B-plot or simple cameo. Yet they don't feel overshadowed because they complement the character and fit in the story rather than only being there for fanservice. It makes it so that I knew most of these characters were there but it made it satisfying to see how they were introduced. Like I knew Kingpin was in the last episode but I had no idea it was going to be introduced at the end of episode 5 like that and I was just as surprised.

With all this, I do have one complaint though and it actually might be my Book Of Boba Fett background but, we only had two scenes with him as Ronin, one in Endgame and one here in a flashback to discuss why Maya wants him dead. So it's kind of hard to fully grasp how much bad he's done and we don't know what he was like before Thor so...you just telling me he was bad is leaving a gap, I can line the pieces up enough but it's there nonetheless.

All in all, a good series that was worth the finish. I do wish it would've had the mask (which was thought of and concepted but scrapped?) and maybe a little nod to his Marvel vs Capcom theme remix. In terms of MCU tv shows that I've seen, maybe I'll rank it later.

[separatist-apologist]

Right Where You Left Me

If our love died young, I can't bear witness

Chapter 14: All Good Things

Read: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | AO3

Summary: All good things must come to an end

That first, wailing cry pulled Lucien from bed. Just beside him, Elain lay face down on the pillow. He knew she’d only just fallen asleep an hour before. She lifted her head, searching in the dark for the source of what had woken her. He heard the softest moan of horror slip past her teeth.

“I’ve got it,” he said, already padding towards the door. 

“You have to be up in the morning,” she protested, not moving from her spot beneath the blankets. With his mother managing Elain’s bakery, she was taking the maternity leave she’d been denied with Ivy. Lucien was learning what it meant to be a father…and Elain was doing her best to let him help. It was a strange push-pull between them. Elain was so used to doing everything alone that she merely went back into that mode, and Lucien often felt as if he were in her way. 

“Go back to sleep,” he urged, not bothering to offer a rebuttal to her assertion that he had to work. Of course he did. Why did she deserve exhaustion and he a robust night of sleep? They’d made this baby together.

And Lucien wanted to make more. God, he wanted more kids, and thus, felt he had to prove he was worthy to do it again. That meant creeping past Ivy’s room for her wailing brother, thrashing tiny fists against the undone swaddle he was wrapped in. That, he supposed, was the source of Soren’s anger—he wanted to be tight in his blanket, if only to pretend he was still tucked up inside Elain.

Lucien scooped him out of the crib, pressing his nose along the vibrant red curls dusting his head. Elain had given him a bath after he’d puked up half his dinner. Soren was a messy–but happy–baby. 

“Give me a second,” Lucien urged his son, who settled the moment he realized he was pressed against someone's chest. Lucien was quick to pull his shirt off with one arm so Soren could rest his chubby little cheek against Lucien’s skin.

“Mommy says we’re not supposed to sleep together,” he said, padding down the hall for the living room. Soren would be up again in two hours to eat. If Lucien merely stayed awake, he could also fit in a morning bottle before he had to go to work. He’d be useless, but he had no cases that day, which meant he could lock his door for half the day and sleep at his desk.

“What she doesnt know won’t hurt her,” Lucien declared, plopping into a chair in the living room. He took the opportunity to re-swaddle Soren before perching himself in the chair, the baby in the middle of his chest. Soren was already asleep, his little lips shaped into a small oh as he breathed.

Lucien ran his fingers through that silken hair, mesmerized that something so tiny could exist at all. He could hold the baby in just the palm of his hand, could fit Soren’s whole body on his upper chest. Lucien caught himself staring sometimes, drinking in the little creature with parted lips.

They’d made this. 

He felt a pang of yearning that he’d missed all of it with Ivy. By the time he’d met her, she’d been a big girl who could write her own name and had more opinions on the color pink than Lucien did about politics. 

“Daddy?”

As though his thoughts had summoned her, Ivy stood at the bottom steep clutching a little white unicorn in one hand while she rubbed her eyes with the other. Her red curls stuck up at odd angles and her little body was clad in matching pink and white unicorn cat pajamas, of which Ivy affectionately called unicat jammies. 

“What are you doing up, baby?” he asked, beckoning for her to join him. Soren’s swing was sitting in the center of the living room and Lucien very carefully—and quickly—slid the swaddled baby into the center basket before turning it on to sway gently.

Ivy took Soren’s place in Lucien’s lap, chin tilted to look up at him.

“The baby is loud,” Ivy told him, allowing Lucien to drape a blanket around the two of them. “And you said I wasn’t allowed to wake up mommy.”

Lucien pressed a kiss to the top of Ivy’s head. “That’s right. It’s important we let mommy sleep.”

Ivy grunted, her disapproval plain. Ivy loved waking up Elain, though not to be mean. She was merely a little girl who liked her mom’s time and attention, and was, perhaps, feeling a little left out now that everyone was paying so much attention to her little brother.

“Did you do this when I was a baby?” she asked him.

Lucien’s chest constricted. He didn’t know what to say—his first instinct was to lie, to tell her of course he had. She knew he hadn’t. Lucien pressed his nose against her hair, drinking in the sweet scent of the strawberry shampoo Elain had used earlier that night.

“I wanted to,” he finally settled on. That was the truth, and simple enough he thought Ivy would understand. 

“Why didn’t you?” she pressed. 

It would have been so much easier to blame Elain. To lay it all at her feet, to say that Elain had taken Ivy and kept her a secret so Lucien could have a life he just barely wanted at the time. And it would have been a betrayal of his soon-to-be-wife, who’d given him a gift, even if she’d been forced into it. 

Lucien could give his family all the things they deserved because Elain had let him go. He could take care of them the way he’d wanted when he’d been that stupid teenager dreaming about his life one day. Elain could stay at home, or work at her bakery without worrying about bills, or money. 

“I was in school,” he finally said, because that was true too. “But I was always thinking about you.”

She smiled, snuggling closer. “Can we watch the cat show?”

She’d be asleep in twenty minutes, assuming Lucien didn’t fall asleep first and the lure of the pantry pulled her from his lap. That was a real risk, given how tired Lucien was and how Ivy did not seem to need the same amount of sleep other humans did. How many times had she fallen asleep in the backseat of his car for twenty minutes only to then be awake until midnight? 

Too many. 

Lucien turned on the television, careful to keep the volume just low enough Ivy could hear without disturbing Elain and her superhuman hearing. He swore she could hear a cat sneeze down the block—could practically hear the thoughts in his head.

Lucien didn’t know which of them fell asleep first. He did know that he didn’t wake up to an alarm, given his phone was upstairs. And it was his five am alarm going off upstairs that brought Elain down looking for him.

He was startled awake when her knuckles brushed over his cheek. Soren was still passed out in the swing, Ivy sprawled over his lap while the television played another episode of the cat cartoon Ivy had requested. 

“Wild night?” Elain teased, looking far too pretty for the early morning. Lucien tried to remember how long he was supposed to abstain from sex. Was it six weeks? Eight? If he just used his mouth, it didn’t count, right? 

Elain, blissfully unaware of the slant of his thoughts, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Want breakfast.” “

Yes,” Lucien said, well aware there was far too much heat in his voice. Elain rolled her eyes, not bothering to dignify him with a response. Lucien was careful not to disturb Ivy, he laid her in the chair, head propped against the cushioned arm and tucked beneath their heavy cream blanket so he could chase after Elain.

“I’m being serious,” he whispered, catching her around the waist. “The kids are asleep. What if we went upstairs—”

“The minute your pants are off, the baby is going to want to eat,” Elain reminded him.

“I’ll be quick, then,” Lucien grinned, lowering his mouth for a kiss. 

She shook her head, fingers tangling in his hair. “You won’t be. You know you won’t. You’ll get distracted and then you’ll be alone in the shower with nothing but thoughs of me.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Lucien murmured, kissing her again. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and something he couldn’t put his finger on. Lucien was all too happy to just prop her up on the kitchen island and have her here. He’d forgotten for one blissful moment that they were parents, his hand groping her breast through her night shirt. Elain arched, moaning softly into his mouth.

This was happening. Lucien was already far too excited, and that excitement was like a beacon to their children.

A soft wail pulled Elain away before they’d ever done more than a little making out. Still—given how most nights they fell face first into a pillow, asleep before they could even say good night, Lucien counted it as a win. 

“Still got it, babe,” he told her with a grin, slapping her ass lightly as she turned away from him. 

“This is how we keep becoming pregnant,” Elain complained, her cheeks stained pink with delight. 

“That’s my charm,” Lucien informed her, turning for the kitchen. She’d offered to make him breakfast, but Lucien now found himself in the unique position of being able to make Elain a meal—a rare thing, given how often she shooed him out of the kitchen. 

“You’re a menace,” she replied, his voice a loud whisper. 

Lucien tied his hair back off his face and turned for the fridge. Elain had made filling for what he assumed would be cream puffs—Ivy’s favorite—and had cookie dough chilling for a later project. Lucien shuffled some things around, pulling out linked sausages and debating on if he’d made waffles or he’d make eggs.

He settled on waffles. 

He had them both going by the time Elain padded back in, holding a bright-eyed Soren in her arms.

“Hey buddy,” Lucien smiled, earning a gummy smile in return. “Are you awake?”

He garbled out a response, little fists flailing to punctuate his point.

“You didn’t have to do this. You’re going to be late,” Elain chided. Lucien kissed her cheek first before blowing a loud raspberry on Soren’s cheek. The baby giggled with delight. 

“I wanted to,” Lucien told her, scooping the baby from her arms. “Go take a shower. Go. I’ve got this.”

Elain hesitated for a second, still holding Soren while Lucien prayed she’d leave. 

You can trust me.

She handed him the baby, in a fresh diaper and a clean onesie. “I’ll be quick.” she said. 

Lucien sighed with exasperation. “I’m already late, baby! Take your time.”

By the time Elain returned, Lucien had Ivy dressed for school, her lunch made, and at the table, coating her face in syrup while he pulled her hair off her face in an attempt to keep her pretty curls from the sticky mess. Elain had taken her time, floating down the stairs looking like his every fantasy come to life, despite being fully clothed. In his imagination, they dropped the kids off at his mother's and he fucked her against every surface in their home until he was pregnant again, but that could wait. 

“Your turn,” Elain told him, kissing him on the cheek while Ivy loudly ewwww’d. Lucien pulled the second twist tie around Ivy’s hair, creating perfect little buns on her head. It had only taken him four tries to get it right. He’d leave Elain to clip the pink bows into her hair.

He was four steps from the steps when Elain, with a sly smile on her face, called. “I was thinking about you up there.”

He turned, his whole body igniting at the suggestive thread wrapped around those words. Elain winked, picking up a hair bow.

“You think about daddy?” Ivy exclaimed. In his little swing just beside the table, Soren chewed on one of his unsocked feet, brown eyes wide as though he, too, wanted that question answered.

“All the time,” Elain agreed sweetly. 

Lucien smiled.

She wasn’t the only one.

ELAIN:

“Mommy,” Ivy asked impatiently, picking at the lace on her dress. “Are we going to be late?”

“No,” she lied, because they absolutely were. She’d made her own wedding cake and all she had to do was pick it up, put it in her car, and drive to the venue. Instead, Elain was separating dough for cookies and portioning out macaron filling because she apparently couldn’t help herself.

She’d only just started working again, and Lucien was about to whisk her away to the Caribbean for a week. She wanted everything to be perfect. 

Ivy didn’t believe her.

“Daddy is going to be worried,” Ivy reminded Elain, stomping her little heeled feet. “I heard him tell Uncle Eris he thought you’d change your mind. Are you?”

“Am I what?” Elain asked absently, only half listening to Ivy’s recriminations.

“Going to change your mind?”

Elain looked up. She was going to wreck her wedding dress if she wasn’t careful, which in turn, would forever spoil the pictures Lucien had paid so much money for. Elain glanced at the clock. Lucien would panic when Arina informed him she wasn’t there, given she had ten minutes to get to the museum they were to be married in and that seemed too cruel given how excited she was to marry him.

“Of course not,” Elain told Ivy, putting away her filling with only a small pang of regret. Work would be here when she returned, she reminded herself. And if Elain was honest with herself, she was, perhaps, testing Lucien one last time. Would he wait? If she came late, would he still be waiting for her, or would he finally realize it was all too much and leave? 

Not that Elain could say that to Ivy, who was annoyed she’d been roped into this last minute errand when what she really wanted was to be sandwiched between Grandma Amera and Grandpa Helion, fawned over and showered in gifts. 

“Do you love daddy?” Ivy continued. It was her favorite question. Did they love Soren, did Lucien love Elain, did Elain love her? Elain bit her bottom lip.

“Of course I love daddy.”

“Then let's go,” Ivy said. Elain offered her a smile before carefully balancing the box that held her cake in one hand. Elain used the other to hold up the length of her ivory gown, not wanting to dirty the train that trailed like spilling sunlight behind her. 

Elain and Ivy stepped onto the sidewalk, making their way around the brick building for Elain’s car. As they walked, a man across the street hollered, “Hey pretty mama, where you headed!”

Ivy whipped around before Elain could roll her eyes. Her vivid, auburn curls gleamed in the early afternoon light as she screamed, “She’s not your mommy, she’s my mommy!” 

Elain burst out laughing. Ivy looked ready to throw down, her little hands curled into fists. She was the spitting image of Lucien just then—russet eyes wholly focused on the subject of her ire. Her nose—Lucien’s nose—was scrunched, forming two little lines on her forehead just like Lucien’s when he was flustered. Her golden brown skin seemed to glow, and not just from the glitter she’d painted all over her cheeks when Elain wasn’t looking.

“When my daddy finds out you said that, he’s going to be really mad!”

“Okay, get in the car,” Elain laughed, ushering Ivy into her seat. “You’ve avenged me.”

“He said you were his mommy!” Ivy declared, still indignant. Elain looked up at the man who’d tried to pay her a poor compliment and found him walking away, smiling to himself. He’d found Ivy just as charming as she had, which Elain decided was a good omen on her wedding day.

Ivy chattered as Elain drove, one eye on the clock, the other on the road. She was late by a minute by the time she pulled into the circular drive in front of the museum and handed her keys over to the valet. 

Eris Vanserra was strolling out, eyes narrowed. “You’re late,” he said, his voice rich with recrimination even as he crouched to scoop up Ivy in her pretty, flouncy dress. “Lucien is in a panic.”

“I had to get my cake,” Elain lied, well aware Eris saw straight through her. “It’s only a minute.”

“It’ll be ten by the time you get that cake to reception and—”

“Oh thank God,” Arina interrupted, coming down the front steps of the museum as Elain, Eris, and Ivy came up them. Arina was holding Soren in his little tux, unaware of how Eris’s mouth slackened for a moment.

“Lucien is panicking. I’ve been stalling, but—”

“It’s just a minute,” Elain protested, even though she knew that wasn’t true. She’d done this on purpose and now she was paying for it. Lucien, who’d never done anything but love her, was just as afraid Elain was going to walk away. 

“Here,” Eris readjusted Ivy so he could take Soren from Arina. Elain caught the eldest Vanserra sliding his nose through the baby’s curls and wondered if he was hoping for a family someday, too. “Take the cake upstairs. Go quick,” he added, not needing to tell Arina twice. 

Arina flashed Elain a dazzling smile, holding the white box in both hands with the same gentle care she’d held Elain’s baby. Eris’s cheeks darkened, though whether that was from Arina’s pretty smile or holding two children as he made his way up those stone cut steps, Elain didn’t know.

Didn’t ask. 

Not as they were ushered into the large atrium filled with regular patrons, all staring as she swanned in wearing that simple, ivory gown. She’d pulled half her hair from her face with delicate pearl pins and kept her make-up light and easy given she was certain she was going to break down sometime before the night was over. 

“Give Arina a second,” Eris warned, pushing the button to the elevator that would take them up to the private ballroom. “I’ll let Lucien know all is well.”

Elain nodded, running her hands nervously down the side of her dress. The mirrored doors pulled open and Eris, in a rare moment of vulnerability, asked, “Were you planning to leave?”

Elain looked up at the eldest Vanserra, a child in both arms. “No,” she said.

She meant it. She might have been late on purpose, but Elain had always meant to come. Eris nodded.

“Good. Because ah…” he cleared his throat and pushed the number four that would take her to Lucien. “Because we love you. Not just your kids. I ah…I thought you should know that.”

Maybe she’d start crying now. 

The doors pulled open and Eris strolled out, taking Ivy with him. Ivy was supposed to throw flowers to the floor, and the only explanation Elain could think of for why Eris had taken her eldest was to reassure his brother that Elain had arrived and everything was going to continue as planned. 

She made her way down a long hall made of marble and gold leaf, with windows that stretched the length so she had a perfect view overlooking the immaculate grounds. There was a little dressing room Elain did not need, but offered her one last moment to take a breath and remind herself that this was what she’d always wanted.

What she’d always hoped for.

Too afraid to ever admit it, even when Lucien had left and she’d been alone, she’d still dreamt of him coming back and making everything right. Of telling her he would have stayed, that he wanted the family, the small life—her. 

It was surreal to realize in just a few short moments she’d get it. Elain took a breath, and then another. 

Arina knocked on the door. “Crazy, huh?” she asked, sweeping a blonde curl off her face. “Remember when we were trying to get rid of him?”

Elain smiled. “Yeah.”

“Called Nesta and everything,” Arina laughed. It was funny, now, considering Elain hadn’t put up much of a fight before she was inviting him back to her place, desperate to touch him one last time. 

“And now we’re getting married,” Elain murmured, looking back out a window.

“If you did want to run, I wouldn’t stop you,” Arina told her. “Though, I don’t think Eris is giving back your kids.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” Elain assured her best friend. Arina nodded, pulling Elain in for a hug.

“Then I’ll see you out there.”

Elain had been right that she’d cry. She started the second she saw Lucien standing there, his hair tied neatly off his face, body clad in an immaculate suit that fit perfectly. He saw her first and swiped away a tear, laughing with a mix of embarrassment and awe. Elain hadn’t expected Lucien to show such an open display of affection and by the time she reached him, she was grateful for the waterproof mascara.

“You look beautiful,” he’d whispered, which started a fresh round of tears. Elain cried through Lucien’s vows and her own, and she cried again when he put that gold band around her finger. Their officiant declared them married and Lucien, instead of kissing her first, pulled her against him in a rough, tight hug. Fingers digging into her skin, he held her like he expected her to evaporate.

And then he kissed her, laughing the entire time, not because anything was funny, but because he couldn’t believe what was happening. It was all a blur, then—signing the paperwork to change not just her own last name, but Ivy’s (of which, Eris whisked away and tucked into his jacket pocket as if to say no takebacks), pictures and dances, and so much food.

By the time Elain managed to catch her breath, it was all over. Ivy was passed out on Helion's chest, her shoes discarded somewhere on the dance floor. Arina had Soren cradled in one arm, her head on Eris’s shoulder. Elain’s sisters had their legs in their husband's laps, flushed and sweaty and more than a little drunk. 

They’d go home alone that night, their kids split between the Archeron’s and the Vanserra’s. Elain trusted their new, combined family would take good care of the baby’s, though she kissed them both awake all the same. 

Lucien, stone cold sober and bright-eyed as he drove them home. “Are you happy?” he asked her when they pulled into the drive. Elain grinned, unable to respond given Lucien had jogged from his door to hers so he could not only pull her out, but sweep her up into his arms. 

“Sorry I made you wait,” Elain told him instead, kissing the side of his cheek, smooth from his careful shave that morning.

“I would have waited my whole life if I knew it was leading to a night like this,” he replied, not realizing she’d meant she was sorry for making him wait on the wedding. Elain started to explain herself, but Lucien had gotten the door open and had rendered any further apologies silent with a sweet kiss. 

“I would have waited a hundred lifetimes,” he added, keeping her in his arms to take her up the stairs and to their shared bed. One of Ivy’s stuffed toys—a massive elephant Elain remembered from before Lucien—lay over the neatly made bed. Elain kicked off her shoes and reached for it, setting the toy on the nightstand beside her bed.

Lucien joined her, not bothering to undress. 

There would be time for that. Sliding his fingers over her forehead to brush errant strands of hair from her sticky face, Lucien looked like a man discovering the sun for the very first time. 

“You mean everything to me.”

Elain leaned up, just enough to kiss him back. “I love you, too, Lucien.”

She’d been waiting for him, too.

[u5an5]

Of things obtained: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 20 | Hot Jones

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.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

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Gricko

Class: Druid, Circle of Primal Spirits (Reflavoured Circle of Stars with focus on Monstrosities instead constellations)

Languages: Common, Goblin, Gigant, Druidic

In possession from beginning:

Primal totems (ep.1)

Alarm whistle (ep.1)

Ocarina (ep.2)

Glue dropper bottle (ep.3)

Eyedrops bottle (ep.3)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

banañas (ep.12)

Can of WD-40 (ep.19)

Wooden carved pocket watch

Items acquired:

Bag of 603 gold pieces (couldn't find it; ep.1)

Cloak of Displacement (ep.1)

Magic Face Paint (Disguise Self 1h; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8 (ep.7)

Witchlight wine (ep.7)

Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb; ep. 8)

Glove puppet wizard (Illusion 3/3; ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.8)

Blue ribbon "I dropped a beat on the Carnival street" (ep.8)

5x fridge magnets (ep.12)

Rocky Talkie (ep.14)

Mouse Harness (ep.15)

Golden Bell (taken from Twig when he turned into a Mammon tiefling)

Clothes:

Trinket:

Golden Bell (taken from Twig when he turned into a Mammon tiefling)

Pacts/contracts:

No ticket - after giving away his ticket to Gideon, due to The Rule of Reciprocity, his most prized possession (Hootsie) was taken away from him by Sowpig (ep.5)

With Mr Light - If Gricko was to stop talking and leave immediately he would make sure to get Snail Number Two to Gricko; Gricko did not and he might've been just humoring him to get rid of him faster (ep.16)

Fear: Groblin (2D beings in general; ep.12)

Hootsie

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Gideon

Class: Fighter, Chain Brawler (Reflavoured Rune Knight)

Languages: Common, Primodial

In possession from beginning:

Engineered manacles (ep.5)

Cigar (ep.10)

Really tiny notebook (ep.11)

Really tiny spectacle (ep.11)

Sterling silver comb from Kremy (ep.17; given to Twig as payment)

Items acquired:

3 letters from Mr. Roslov (ep.1; they did NOT read it)

x5 Magical Invisibility Cupcakes (ep.3)

162 gold pieces (ep.7)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 3/8 (ep.7)

Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb ep.7)

Letter from Mrs Witch & Light (ep.8)

x2 Cuddly toy spider (ep.8)

Pixie dust (Spider Climb ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

Blue ribbon (ep.8)

Forlarrens Remorse [dagger] (ep.15)

1 banaña (ep.16)

"Engineering for Fae Dummies 101" in sylvan [book] (ep.19)

Clothes:

Baby pink Cake Chad T-shirt at least five sizes too small (ep.3)

Pacts/contracts:

Clown kill manslaughter count:

Marriage - He has to get married to Taxie after asking her to marry him in exchange for a ticket for Frost. Additionally, Frost, as show of gratefulness, will do at least one nice thing for him each day and fulfill one bigger favour once every two weeks. (ep.14)

Due to him and all betrothed signing Kremy's contract he became a sole husband to all three Bixie, Zaxie and Taxie and due some additional fine print he had to marry Kremy too (ep.15)

(In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

Chuckles the Clown - after being punched in body by Gideon, which broke every rib he had, laughed himself to death (supposedly he was already dead by this time due crippling alcoholism; before the campaign)

Klutzy the Clown - got hit by Gideon throwing Impossibal at incredible speeds directly into his face. The actual supposed cause of death was deadly allergy to unspecified ingredient/s in this processed not-meat sludge (ep.6)

Bumbo the Clown - Tripped and fallen directly onto Gideon's sword hand puppet, completely running him through. Was allergic to felt, he hit the ground and he died. (ep.9)

Thaco the Clown - Was deadly allergic to peanuts and ate an unlabeled peanut butter pie that Gideon chose for his wedding. It took over 1 hour for anyone to notice (ep.15)

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Kremy

Class: Warlock, Death Loa Patron (Reflavoured Undead patron)

Languages: Common, Draconic

In possession from beginning:

Tophat

Skull Cane

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

at least 2 handkerchiefs (ep.3)

Compact mirror (ep.4)

Frying pan (ep.4)

Knife (ep.4)

Bacon grease (ep.8)

Cigarettes (ep.10)

Cigarette holder from Gideon (ep.17)

Pocket watch

Canteen

Items acquired:

Satchel with Carnival map and Three Rules of Feywild (ep.2)

Packet of pixie dust

Stuffed Almiraj plushie from Gideon (Minor Illusion 3/day)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8

45 gold pieces

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.7)

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.8)

Bright orange ribbon "consolation prize" from Torbek (ep.8)

Pinecone Pug plushie x2? (ep.12)

Pinecone Pug backpack (ep.12)

Gricko's teeth (ep.12)

Frost's fingernails (ep.12)

x3 Toffie (ep.13)

Fist sized cup made from snail shell (ep.14)

Great Fiddle (ep.15)

Satchel of human bones (ep.18)

Clothes:

A replica unicorn horn formerly filled with candy strapped to his forehead (ep.7)

Pacts/contracts:

Due possessing unspecified knowledge he didn't pay for when he "abandoned his station" has to deliver 100,000 gold pieces to Mr. Garou by the end of the month as recompensation. If he's no longer able to do so by dying, the rest of the Krew is obligated to pay it (ep.1)

Fear: Remy Garou and his debt to him (ep.12)

Marriage -Due making his contract with his betrothed he was able to transfer it onto Gideon and also marry him himself. (ep.15)

(In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

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Frost

Class: Sorcerer, Mystic Mind Origin (Reflafoured Aberrant Mind)

Languages: Common, Celestial, Elvish

In possession from beginning:

Backpack (ep.2)

Glue (totally not related to horses; ep.3)

Tambourine (ep.3)

Water skin (ep.3) full of Oasis Water

This water works like the Taffy, nulifying Fey Magic effects

Small dagger (ep.4)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

Peanut M&M's (ep.11)

Ball of yarn (ep.11)

Buttons (ep.13)

Signaling whistle from Gricko (ep.17; given as payment for his stay at the Inn to Twig Toadspring)

Crowbar (ep.18)

Red ball of yarn (given to Twig) (ep.19)

Towel

Water skin full of Oasis Water

x5 vials full of Oasis Water

Items acquired:

Letter to Zybilna by Madrik Roslov (ep.1)

Bag of Beans (ep.1)

1 gold piece

Morning Frost license plate (ep.12)

Pack of pixie dust (ep.12)

Sky blue T-shirt three sizes too small with "Bird Chad" on it (ep.12)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Pixie Pact) 0/8 (ep.14)

Teapot & pack of Scatterleaf tea (ep.14)

Killmoulis Spectacles (ep.15)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15)

1 banaña (ep.16)

Trinkets:

64 - Piano key carved from a satyr's horn (ep.19)

6 - Tiny pair of sharp, iron scissors (ep.19)

Clothes:

Pacts/contracts:

Pixie Ticket Pact: In exchange for Gideon marrying Taxie to get him his ticket, he will do at least one nice thing for Gideon each day and one bigger favour once every two weeks; not as much pact as bros wanting to be fair (ep.14)

Fear: Being alone, being the last one standing and going insane, being left out (ep.12)

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Torbek

Languages: Common, Goblin

Class: Blood Hunter

In possession from beginning:

Witchlight Carnival ticket 1/8

It's the same one he had all those years (?) ago with Krew. It's crumpled and faded. It's his most prized possession.

Filthy Sack

Items acquired:

Clothes:

Contraption - A big contraption consisting of weird fey machinery and containers with liquid Witchlight embedded into his flesh on his back. It cannot be removed and it activates due unknown trigger, turning him into a feral beast

. .

Krew (The Party)

In possession from beginning:

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

Items acquired:

5 gold pieces (ep.2; for street-performing)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15, currently in Frost's possession)

Pacts/contracts:

With Madrik Roslov: In exchange for checking if Zybilna is alright, and if true, giving her the letter he wrote, Party will get what is left from his possessions once he passes away (ep.1)

With Diana Cloppington: In exchange for riddle concerning Prismeer, with knowledge and information she was able to store about current state of it in it, Party promises to, at least, attempt to help her return to human and be reunited with Sir Cloppington; Not really Fey Pact but on their rules (ep.2)

With Palasha & Candlefoot: In exchange for bringing Candelfoots voice back they pledged allegiance with Krew and promised to come and help them if they ever need them; not as much pact as keeping true to Third Rule (ep.13)

Altered states:

Boon of Willa the Wisp [effect]: (ep.17)

(All) - the Boons recipient gains a d4 and can at any time within next 24 hours roll this die and add a number rolled to one ability check, attack roll or saving throw made by it.

New rule - They can do 3 Twists of Fate to cancell out 1 Twist of Dread (ep.18)

Twist of Fate curses:

Twist of Dread curses (by DM):

(Gideon) 3 - You develop an appetite for human bones [21:54 - 02:10:46]

19 - You're overcome by psychedelic hallucinations [49:46 - 54:05]

(Kremy) 4 - You're incredibly paranoid and believe everyone is out to get you (except Gideon, apparently) [22:00 -

18 - You become a proud nudist [35:40 - 54:00]

(Frost) 12 - You cannot tell the truth, you love to lie [22:07 - 54:00]

3 ? 16 - Your nose becomes a flopping penis. You don't notice any change in yourself [37:40 - 54:30]

(Gricko) 15 85 ? - You die and reincarnate as a Mammon tiefling [24:30 -

You die and reincarnate as an orc (54:40 he regains his mind) [41:00 - 01:03:50]

(Torbek) 15 83 - You die and reincarnate as a tabaxi (looking exactly like Frost) [23:50 - 02:09:30]

10 1 - You become a spring eladrin (54:55 he regains his mind) [42:15 - 01:47:]

(Gricko) - after Twig makes Pigtunia sneeze at you, you cannot speak anymore [01:02:55 - 01:22:30]

Mud mephit magic:

The Riddle - What's mud mephit favourite food? (Mud Pie)

(Gricko) fail - You become a mud mephit [02:26:20 -

Would you kindly...

To-do list:

Get the 100,00 gold pieces by the end of the month (ep.1)

Find out why Madrik Roslovs patron, Zybilna, stopped answering his calls for 15 years so he can die in peace, knowing her fate (ep.1)

Get to the Witchlight Carnival before it ends and find the only available entrance to Prismeer, Zybilnas domain (ep.1; completed)

Try to become Witchlight Monarch (ep.1; completed)

Find out who was the man that cut off Lexi Pott's wings, why he did that and what happened with them (ep.1)

Find a way to reunite Diana Cloppington with her with her horse, Sir Cloppington, and return them to their previous forms (ep.2)

Win Cake Eating contest (ep.3; completed)

Find a way to return Candlefoots voice (ep.4; completed)

Find some clothes for Torbek (ep.6; completed)

Keep Torbek occupied for an hour when Carnival Hands find manacles for him and take him away for his punishment (ep.8; completed)

Catch the Kenku and bring her to Mr Witch & Mr Light for her punishment in exchange for some answers (ep.9; not realised)

Get ahold of Mr Witch's Pocketwatch or Mr Light's Weathervane and keep it hostage to get the true answers to what they seek (ep.9; completed)

Get reunited with Hootsie (ep.16)

Avenge Willa and find a way to free her from being tied to the Well (ep.17)

Find Brody Snake-Snake in Yon and deliver him message from his parents (ep.18)

Retrieve a key to his cage from goblin named Jinglejangle and free Sir Talavar from it (ep.18)

.

Time

4th day of Campaign, 2nd day in Prismeer, Feywild, wee hours - about an hour later

?th of the month (?? days until The Debt deadline)

Random Info

Man whose name Lexi Pott was unable to say was going to "wake her" and she was very scared for Party meeting him. When they mentioned name Zybilna, she said they "already were too deep" (ep.1)

After Lexi Pott died, Party was surrounded by Fairy Ring made up from mushrooms (ep.1)

Tasha and Iggwilv The Witch Queen are the same person (ep.4)

Chuckles said Gideon will join clowns in Hell and become Eighth Clown Lord of Crazy Eights (ep.7)

Torbek's poem is based on Immortality by Clare Harner (ep.8)

Burly the bugbear has a twin, Hurly, that went missing (ep.9)

Mr Witch and Mr Light got into pact for them to be able to run the Witchlight Carnival in exchange for things it wants (people breaking rules) to Hourglass Coven (ep.11)

The original owner of Witchlight Carnival was an archfey (ep.11)

Fey Pacts leave magical aura around those which they bind that are visible to fae (ep.11)

Whatever is stollen from Carnival always finds its way into Prismeer (ep.16)

The only people from Carnival who go outside its bounds are Witchlight Hands. All other creatures stay inside. (ep.16)

According to Mr Light, Party is affected by Fae Magic way more than anyone he've ever seen in his life for some reason (ep.16)

Mr Witch's last words were "Mind the rule of three - future, present, past" and Mr Light's were "Find the alicorn and free the dormant Queen at last" (ep.16)

Brody Snake-Snake went to act at The Theater in Yon and haven't been in any contact with his parents since (ep.18)

Wigglewog is stated to be "very well dressed and very well dead" (ep.18)

Hags used Iggwilv's Caudron to freeze time inside Zybilnas Palace, trapping the archfey inside (ep.18)

Time works differently in Feywild (ep.18)

Torbek is about five years older than the last time Krew saw him and doesn't have recollection of what happened to him during this time (ep.19)

The magenta liquid in Torbeks machinery is made of Witchlight, an extremely potent Feywild drug made from Witch Cup mushroom found only in deep parts of Feydark; due how hard it is to procure only the richest can afford it, like archfey (ep.19)

Total money: 817 gold pieces

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