#screaming crying sobbing dying destroying the earth

[lesbiantrish]

IM NOT OKAY

[curly-my-beloved]

Alrighty this is the first time I'm doing an ask BUT I have a very fun idea but too much writers block to flesh it out myself.

Heartbreakingly sad Curly x F! Reader

Back on earth, Pre all of that, they were high school sweethearts, planning their lives together, starting college or whatever. Jimmy also was there too like

Just me and you, and you and me, just us, are your friend Steve

Yandere Jimmy though, obsessed, stealing her things and keeping a shrine, trying to think of some way to get her without destroying his only friend.

!! Trigger warning here !!

He doesn't control himself while they were chilling at a party and drinking. He SAs her. She's sobbing after and terrified of him, says she's going to tell Curly and she tries to run away, hides at home. He chases. If he can't have her, he won't lose her. Screaming and saying if he gets his hands on her again she'll never escape, if she runs he will hunt her down. He burns down the house with her inside but she gets out. She runs and runs and never goes back out of fear of seeing him again.

Years later she tries to go back and find Curly but him and Jimmy are working for Pony express now and not there. So she follows. It's been years, she still has her matching ring on a necklace her and Curly had, like engagement ring. She's dyed her hair at this point, changed her name, has scars from all the dangerous odd jobs she's worked to survive and just keep running.

She joins the Tulpar one day when they're docked for ship upgrades or whatever so it can support 6 people and not just 4. Neither her nor Curly recognize each other, but she's almost certain based off his last name that it's him.

She becomes besties with Anya, helping her study for medical school, very protective of her homie who she sees is Jimmy's victim (pre Anya being SA'd)

She also has flirty sort of relationship with Curly but no labels have been said yet.

Group fun drinking times, Swansea not drinking because he was still avoiding alcohol so he was sober. Anya goes to leave to lay down in her quarters, Jimmy follows and tries to force himself on her having her pinned against the wall in the hallway. Our girly pop F!Reader punches his face HARD, he stumbles, she lets out YEARS of trauma and anger on him, screaming at him about how he's ruined her life and she's not letting him ruin Anyas life. Everyone comes over hearing the commotion, Swansea pulls her off, Curly goes to help Jimmy, confused, she yells at him don't help him. Through all the heated feelings she reveals what Jimmy did and who she really is and now curly is crying too. Jimmy loses it and is all "I knew you weren't dead" and that night ends with everyone splitting off to try to cool down and sober up. Girly pop goes with Anya, Swansea takes Daisuke, Curly drags Jimmy off.

That's about what I've thought so far. If you wanna take that and maybe run with it, I would LOVE it

-💛

bro claims to have writer's block and then just belts this out.

[moonlayl]

I’m just heart broken right now. 

Syria as a nation was utterly destroyed. We lost our homes and almost every single Syrian had to move. Whether to a different city or different country. 

My grandparents’ house, the one my mom and her siblings grew up in, and the one I remember the most, was one iof the first to be bombed almost 10 years ago. 

My extended family became scattered across the country, as did so many other Syrians. 

the economy is still shit, the people are still starving and dying, and the young boys are still being called to the military, but despite all of that, people were able to slowly able to try and build their lives again. 

My aunts and uncles got married and had children. They tried to build new lives for themselves. 

Only now, those areas were affected by the earthquake. My aunt’s in-laws are most likely dead. Their building, the one my aunt and her husband and their babies had lived in for several years, completely collapsed and their bodies are yet to be found. 

Last I heard, My aunt's and her kids are safe but we lost contact and they’re grieving and it’s utter chaos. 

and the death toll keeps getting bigger, and there’s a chance more aftershocks and large earth quakes will happen in that region or closer to Lebanon.

I’ve been seeing so many videos of the damage and like I wish I could do more to help. I wish I could physically do something.

I watched a video of a man trying to rescue a child and telling him ‘not to go to sleep’ and that he’d ‘buy you a chocolate if you can just stay awake’

I watched a video of a young child screaming and crying for help as he held on tot he edge of a collapsing building, and people on the streets yelling out and telling him to ‘not be afraid’ and trying to comfort him, knowing they won’t be able to save him. 

People in Lebanon and syria and Palestine literally thought thy were being attacked with bombs over their heads. 

This is just so devastating. It came as a shock originally but things just quickly escalated.

I was so scared and worried that I couldn’t sleep and missed my midterm worth 25% of my grade.

I contacted my prof and she said I’d have to pay a lot of money in order to do it a later time, and I feel so guilty. Like, why tf should I pay that money for a fucking grade when it could be donated to people who need immediate help??? 

Doing anything is making me feel guilty and I'm rotating between being numb and unable to feel sympathy and just existing there plainly, or between wanting to sob and cry.  

also the fact that syria will for sure receive less help/aid because the “president” is a piece of shit who needs to fucking die already. God, I wish the building he was in could’ve been the one to collapse. I wish he was the one slowly dying under rubble and building remains. 

I also heard many of the people who died in turkey were Syrian refugees. 

May they be granted jannah, Ameen

[vsnotresponding]

CHAPTER 10 - THE STORM - IRA

masterpost

It burns.

It starts at my fingerprints, moves up from them to the palm of my hand, the skin turning red, then black, then nothing—dust. And it keeps going. My right arm, to the elbow, to the shoulders, my white tunic turning ash.

It boils my blood, it consumes my insides, bringing me to an ethereal place removed from my body.

I feel it on my feet too, on my ankles and knees, laying waste to everything, breaking it all into pieces, to particles without name. It reaches to my waist, my chest. Then my head, and then I’m nothing.

Without body, the pain assaults my mind. I travel through time, through years. I see the island being born from nothingness, the high cliffs over a sea of sharp rocks, the little islands at the south-west, their dark claws like Zaeaf’s.

I see him too, and Ila. Sea and land, breeze and light. They fight, they collide. Lose, win. And then us, born from the island in her image, Ila, that blesses and curses us at the same time, that gives us her gifts.

That dies to disappear forever with the arrival of the winged lions.

The énna, with their ships, in search of fertile land and resources. Their success at finding land that purified herself, where the venom of the sea disappeared on the river that crossed the island thanks to shining rocks at its bed.

I see the years pass, the imitators’ birth, their intrusion on the earth, on natural order.

The pain increases. It burns on my nonexistent chest, my me scattered across the world. It’s rage and sadness, all locked up on the earth and in ourselves for centuries, in every grain of sand at the beaches, every rock in the mountains. It worsens when they start to hunt us, every creator that returns to Ila another stab to whatever is left of what I am.

And another, and another, and another. The cracks getting bigger, one for each heart that stops beating too soon.

Until there’s just three left.

If I had a body, I’d cry. If I’d remember what it was like having one, I could imagine the tear at my throat from my sobs, the tears blurring my vision, cleaning my cheeks—but there’s only a pressure left where I am, a muffling that slows down the years, that stops time.

It doesn’t stop what I see.

Under rain or a suffocating sun, under the watchful eyes of the guards. The protests, the insurrections, the explosion of our rage at the spilled blood.

There’s no way to stop them.

Hamza and Níniam, who somehow still stands up, I recognize the inhabitants of the Zanji: the mute and the scammer, the butcher and the artisan. In between the people, shouting, screaming.

Wounds, and then smoke. They are still there, but I feel them dying. One by one their hearts stop and join the cracks that cover me whole, they cover the Iria too. I feel every single one of them.

As does the island, the Core, he echoes their pain and amplifies it, it shares it, bouncing on the destroyed altars, on the towers of mud when in times before centenarian creations shone.

I come back to the Iria, to the pain, the white cracks covering him, covering me. My head screams, my throat burns.

I fall again, I now see the air escaping my lungs, bubbles of air rising to the surface looking for freedom.

I drown, fall into the water.

Like dying.

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @my-cursed-prince @on-noon @aquil-writes @dotr-rose-love

[skitter-kitter]

His feet sunk into cold sand. Scar blinked once as he looked across the desert he called home.

It was a wasteland. There were deep gashes in the earth; the center of the holes was glass. Had they blown up the desert? Had Grian..?

No. No, this wasn’t his world. He hadn’t remembered right. He had to find his world. He had to find his Grian.

His hands were shaking. He could barely breathe.

Scar looked up to the place their home was supposed to be. There was nothing. Only a circle of cactus and two figures slowly dancing around each other.

In the distance, he could hear sobs.

Scar began to run. He knew how fast executions could be here. He needed to be there before it was too late. He needed to save Grian.

He’d come too late to save his best friend. He’d been gone too long.

The sand was cold, bereft of life. His feet alternated between pushing on smooth sandstone and grainy sand as he climbed up the Grian’s stairs. The explosions had destroyed everything.

Ren must have done it. He must have destroyed Monopoly Mountain.

Fury burned in Scar’s throat. That familiar bloodlust came back to life. His hands itched to hold his sword and push it through the Red King’s chest. He wanted to bathe in his blood.

As he ran up the final steps, he could finally hear what was happening.

“I’m— I’m so sorry, Grian.”

Was that his voice?

Scar paused on the final step, watching in horror as Grian hunched over his other self.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Scar. Just… close your eyes.”

A moment passed before he went still. It wasn’t long before Grian was sobbing, the sound tearing through Scar’s chest. He didn’t want Grian to cry like this. He didn’t want to hurt him.

Scar just wanted to go home.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity until Grian stood up. The first thing he saw was his gray wings, with their tips dyed red. Scar glanced at the body with the pool of blood around it.

His blood had done that. Grian had… it had to have been an accident.

Scar blinked back tears as he took a step toward his best friend. “Grian,” he whispered, breathless. Those wings, that voice… it was like coming home. “Grian!”

Grian turned to him, tears pouring down his face. His numb expression shifted to one of horror. “Scar?” He glanced to the body. “Sc— Scar?”

Scar felt the same horror wash over him as his eyes met Grian’s red gaze. What had happened to him? Who had hurt him? Ren? Bdubs? Cleo? Scar..?

Grian took a step back, then another, until he was stood near the edge. His friend put his hand over his mouth, holding back sobs. “I’m— I’m sorry.” Scar took a step toward him, eyes wide. Grian inched his foot behind him until it hit the edge of the cliff. “For everything.”

Grian tipped himself back and fell.

Scar ran forward, a scream tearing through his lips. He watched with wide eyes as Grian fell. It felt like an eternity. It felt like mere seconds.

Grian’s wings were spread wide. His feathers, clumped and bloody though they often were, looked… beautiful from afar. As he fell, all Scar could think was: he looks like an angel.

And then, he hit the ground. The crack reverberated through Scar’s body. His legs, his hands, his face. He felt numb even as his tears ran down his face.

He’d just watched Grian die for the first time. He never wanted to see it again.

Below Monopoly Mountain, on the sands they’d first declared home, laid Grian’s body. Still and lifeless.

Scar cried until he didn’t have tears left in him. Then, he inputted World 72 and was torn away from this cold, empty world.

[get-your-fics]

So like everyone else I’m obsessed with druig so…if you can/want to can you write a Druig X Reader one where the reason druig finally disobeys Ajak is because the reader said so. Like the reader sees all the pain and says “druig help them” or “druig make it stop” and so he does because he sees how uncomfortable it makes the reader…thanks!!!

here ya go! warnings for mentions of violence and blood

word count: 541

The sky was on fire.

You stood frozen in horror, overlooking the destruction and carnage as havoc was wreaked from below. Smoke and ash created a thick, black fog that hung over the battlefield like a cloud, lit up by the explosion of gunpowder like lightning. Gunshots pierced your ears louder than thunder, but not louder than the screams as bodies collapsed to the ground in a sea of blood as dark as ink.

It was always the same: they look different than us, they don't believe what we do, they don't live the way we live. The same reasons, the same excuses. Humans were so desperate to create a divide, they failed to see all that they had in common. You had witnessed many a similar conflict over the millennia you had been on Earth, but the damage and bloodshed had never been to this extent until the invention of those new weapons that tore through flesh and bone faster than any sword or arrow.

Over the chaos, you heard your name being called. You turned around to see Druig behind you. His face fell when you locked eyes, and that's when you knew the distress you felt was evident in your appearance.

He rushed to your side, concern written all over his face. You hadn't even realized you were crying until he was brushing away the stray tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "What's wrong?" His voice was soft, soothing.

"Please," was all you managed to get out. Your chin wobbled as you tried to keep from bursting into sobs. "You have to help them."

He looked at you regretfully, cupping your face in his hands. "I can't, you know that. It's against the rules."

You clutched the front of his tunic, your fingers digging into the fabric. "I don't care about the stupid rules! People are dying out there, and you're the only one who can do something about it."

"It's hard for me, too." He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. "To know that I can put an end to it all so easily and have to watch them destroy themselves."

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in the crook of his neck. You couldn't bear to watch the world you fell in love with be reduced to rubble and dust. "Please, just make them stop." Your voice was small, barely more than a whimper.

You felt his chest rise and fall, his heart beating in tandem with yours, and his grip on you tightened. You heard him sigh and opened your eyes just as his turned a luminescent gold. You turned your head as the noise from below faded, hundreds of pairs of eyes lighting up the night. The smoke cleared to reveal the fighting had ceased; the world had come to a standstill.

You released the breath you had been holding, relaxing in Druig's arms and laying your head on his shoulder. "Thank you," you whispered against his skin.

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head. "Ajak will have our heads for this."

"I know," you allowed him to rock you back and forth, "but it's over." At least, for now.

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[redrobin-detective]

because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image. 

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!” 

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes. 

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race. 

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable. 

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form. 

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur. 

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy. 

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams. 

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. 

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice. 

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head. 

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless. 

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.” 

[bruhstories]

Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

I have this really angsty idea about an bnha / mha end where, in order to defeat AFO, Izuku needs to trust Tomura and give him One For All.

*Edit: Please check this other post after reading this. It's the comfort counterpart of this post, with how things work out in the end and how all the sadness fades into a new light.

The vestiges just need to help holding AFO back, because the mix of the two powers are too much for his body to handle and Tomura plans to decay himself, finally putting an end to what his sensei started.

And what if the news are streaming it happening in live in every screen of Japan? Now everyone is watching how Tomura is giving his life in one of the most painful ways possibles to avoid Izuku or All Might dying, to save the world.

Imagine the reactions of the League of Villains, watching Tomura do everything he can to make their dream come true: a new world, where they are accepted, where they are free, free of AFO and free of the whole "heroes and villians" point of view.

Imagine the reaction of the pro-heroes that never respected Tomura and thought he was just a man child. Imagine them finally understanding that Tomura needed rescuing but none of them gave him the hand he needed. And now there's nothing they can't do to erase the tragedy of a kid that even while he's dying, he won't stop smiling and telling the world everything will be alright.

Imagine class 1-A seeing it all and knowing that it could be Izuku. They could be the ones losing a friend. The are so similar, how could they not see it before? And even if Tomura was a real villain, there's people who love him that are losing him too. He's human. And he's— he's—

Imagine Ochaco and the girls holding Toga back, because she's struggling to go with Tomura. No one have ever seen her crying like that. Why? Why can't she help the man that became like an older brother to her? He promised to never destroy what she loves, but now he's decaying himself like he doesn't matter, like she doesn't love him, like she wouldn't give everything to share his pain one last time.

Imagine Natsuo and Shoto having to pin Dabi to the ground because they know he longs to do the same as Toga. Imagine Rei hugging her son after so many years, holding him in her arms, trying to calm his fire with her ice, whispering whatever she can to reassure him. But what can she do? She heard the story of how that other kid lost his family and she wonders, she wonders about the mother that ran to his child even as he decayed her. The Touya she knew was filled with rage and bitterness and even if he's still there, in the tears of blood of her son now she finds the silhouette of a man that learned to love. And now the man who taught him that, that showed him kindness and mercy, has only minutes left. She weeps for the mother that would never see her child becoming a hero, she weeps for his own kid, a living corpse more than ever, empty eyes, resigned. She weeps for herself. They have Touya back, but she's wondering if the cost of righting those wrongs is too high.

The whole League needs to be held back. They have lost so much, so many times. Over and over again they've seen their friends die. No one cared except them. No one cared for Magne or Twice or Compress arm. Only them, tight together in dirty holes and lonely buildings.

There's nothing the pro-heroes can do.

Spinner is sobbing and screaming that all along Tomura has been more a hero and a human than any of them. Fuck Stain. Tomura fought for them when Stain was too busy fulfilling his selfish wishes. Fuck everyone. Tomura broke himself again and again and proved that he cared about them when no one else did. He was the champion of the fallen, the hero of those who had lost hope. He, the kid that was left to die, the kid that was groomed and manipulated, a living experiment who was even possessed, abused in so many ways, dismissed. If there's someone that should be destroying the world, that's Tomura. He had lived with the greatest shadow on Earth. And there he was, using the quirk that everyone said was for killing to kill their fear, to kill they're sadness, to put at end to the suffering. A light so bright no evil could ever fade it.

Imagine Aizawa and Present Mic being with Kurogiri while he's losing the kid he raised, his loved son. For a decade and a half he watched that kid get taller, smarter, stronger. He saw his anxiety and his traumas, he stayed the nights he couldn't sleep, he went every time Tomura called his name. Imagine Shirakumo begging them to save him,because that's his child. Tomura is to him what Eri is to Aizawa. That's his kid. That's his kid. And he's paying for something he didn't do. A fucking tragedy. And he's dying alone, in the hands of the man that broke him for almost two decades. To save the people that wanted him dead.

And finally, imagine Tomura asking them with his last breath to take care of each other. Imagine Tomura asking everyone who's listening to just stop that nonsense of waiting for somebody else to do the rescue. If only someone, anyone, would have taken him with them when he was a kid, none of that would be happening. Everyone can be a hero or a villian, that's not something quirks determine. Quirk or no quirk, it's not about being strong or fast or smart, it's about doing the right thing because you want to, because you want to make the world a better place.

He apologizes to the League and ask the people to understand and forgive. He doesn't want his friends— No, his family, to suffer like he has. They still has time. They can live now. It's okay. He smiles one last time, so much like Nana... Toshi feels how a part of him dies too as Tomura laughs. "Celebrate for me, would you?"

He has saved them.

And he banishes, no more than dust floating around during the dawn. No more white hair floating like a halo of stars or red eyes like morning suns. No more reassuring smiles or raspy voice. No more.

He's gone.

[dracowars]

Hii, could I pleaser request a draco x reader based off of the song heather by Cohan gray where basically the reader and draco were close until this other girl came along maybe angst with a lot of fluff at the end and can you please make the reader a gryffindor? ❤

while i die | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x gryffindor!reader

word count: 2,4k

summary: where draco replaced y/n

a/n: when i tell you that i listened to this song every day when it came out (i still do, actually lol)

warnings: angst

universe: harry potter

With your eyes narrowed, you stare through the filled Great Hall, over to the table of the Slytherins, whose students are all dressed in their usual green, enjoying their breakfast, joking around with each other here and there, or just chatting. A couple of them have a book or piece of parchment in front of them, probably doing their homework for Charms at the last moment before you, the Gryffindors and Slytherins of year six, go to Professor Flitwick’s lesson together.

However, you are not staring there for no reason, no. You are looking for something specific, for someone specific, even though you know very well that you should not be doing so. You would hurt yourself again, like so many times before. And yet you can’t avert your gaze, even when you do not find what you are looking for.

With a sad sigh, you finally turn to your plate of delicious food of which you can hardly choke down anything again today, your stomach aching with hunger. You are still too affected by what happened. The gaping wound in your heart that you once believed would decrease over time, still present, giving you a stabbing pain every time you think back.

The lively conversations of your fellow Gryffindor friends around you are slowly falling silent as you get lost in your thoughts, a habit you only recently acquired. Completely drowning in your thoughts, your gaze wanders to the table on the other side of the Great Hall one more time and suddenly all your thoughts disappear in the matter of a second, the stabbing pain that you are so afraid of, returning. Now that you have discovered him.

With her.

Your reasonable mind screams at you to finally look the other way, to finally get over it, get over him, but your broken heart easily wins the fight within you. Your gaze stays fixed on him as he touches her, as he looks at her.

The way he once looked at you.

Before everything broke apart.

While you watch him, the pure emotional chaos reigns inside of you. You have already shed so many tears because of him, but now you can’t even cry anymore, not because of him. You quietly suffer on your own, so far away from him, only watching him from a distance as he goes on with his life while he has stopped yours.

“I do not ever want to see you again”, his hurtful words echo in your head, painfully piercing through your heart for the thousandth time. “Get out!”

Your common sense finally wins the upper hand to some extent and you blink a few times, trying to banish the horrific imagines from your head, but as soon as you close your eyes, they reappear right in front of you. Your sad gaze now directs itself to her, who is still a part of his life, who has replaced you.

Right at the moment your gaze meets her, you have to hold your breath. She looks so beautiful again today. Her long, smooth brown hair playfully falls over her shoulders, the strands, which are cut shorter in the front, framing her face perfectly, the smile on her lips making her shine brightly. The green of her school uniform compliments her eyes, makes them shimmer even more. Even the oversized dark gray sweater she is wearing today fits her perfectly. A sweater that used to adorn your body too.

Back when everything was still all right, when this piece of cloth supposedly suited you better than him.

And now it suits her better than you.

You have to watch how he looks at her with so much love in his eyes, happier than ever, how he looks after her as soon as she leaves the table to attend her next lesson. She has got him mesmerized while you are dying inside.

For him, she is now his one and only and for you, he still is yours.

Eventually managing to avert your gaze from them, you stand up when you notice how everyone around you has already got up to go to their class as well. In a hurry, you shoulder your bag, press the books, which you originally planned to take a look at while eating, against your chest and quietly follow your small group of friends out of the Great Hall – to your surprise – without looking back another time.

When the doorbell rings for the break, you flinch hardly after your thoughts wandered off again – how could it be otherwise – and left your body behind in the reality, a reality that you would gladly escape from forever. Rolling up your empty parchment lying in front of you and stowing it in your bag, you step out into the corridor teeming with students.

You follow your friends, who are chatting excitedly while repeating the spells you apparently have just learned, down the hallways, keeping a little distance from them but still close enough to be counted as part of their group. When you pass the courtyard, you unintentionally stop all of a sudden when something catches your eye.

Not far from you, in the middle of the courtyard, they stand, hand in hand, laughing with each other before he gives her a loving kiss. His hand is so much bigger than hers and it embraces hers perfectly, just as it once did with yours. Not noticing that you are watching them intently, he gently puts an arm around her, which she accompanies with a shy chuckle. You, in turn, suddenly become ice cold and unpleasant goose bumps cover your skin, running over your entire body. Shivering and slightly trembling from the sudden cold, you wrap your arms around your body while a feeling of anger slowly builds up inside of you.

A feeling of anger that is not directed at her because how could you ever hate her? She is an angel on earth and always so incredibly friendly and accommodating. No, you would never hate her.

You do not even hate him. The rising anger you feel in this moment is directed at you, for what you have destroyed.

Your hand instinctively reaches for your wand tucked in your pocket, clinging to it like it could be able to protect you from the worst. And suddenly it might not be that bad after all if she instantly drops dead right here, right now.

You only come back to your clear senses again when you feel glances on you and your eyes directly meet his. His gray eyes look at you without any emotion, while yours are just overflowing with emotions. Abruptly, you turn away, trying to control your fast heartbeat before running down the hallway.

What you do not notice, however, is Draco’s sad look he threw after you, almost seeming like he is pitying you.

You promised yourself that you would never ever shed a tear for him again and yet, here you are again, sitting in an empty, abandoned corridor on the floor, your knees drawn closely to your body while you sob sadly. Nobody could ever take away the pain you have to endure every day. It has become a part of you.

A part that you have to live with.

“Y/N”, his voice sounds in your ear, which makes you laugh bitterly. You always loved the way he pronounced your name. It feels like it has been years since you last heard his voice.

“Y/N?”, his voice repeats in your ear and finally causes you to look up when you feel a breeze flying past you.

What you thought was only happening inside of your head was actually real. You did not imagine it. There he is, Draco, standing right in front of you, his eyes roaming over your fragile body with worry. You frantically get up from the cold ground and wipe away your precious tears, turning your body away from him in order to protect yourself, preferably wanting to flee in a different direction straight away.

“Is everything all right?”, he asks you and takes a step closer to you while your gaze fearfully escapes through the corridor, searching for his friends who are probably just waiting around the next corner to watch the funny spectacle unfold.

Trying to muster up all your courage to answer him, you terribly fail and instead burst out into tears, quickly running past him, not expecting to get pulled back immediately. Startled, you look at him, look at his hand which is holding your wrist tightly and thus preventing you from walking away.

“I can see that you are not fine”, Draco whispers sadly, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, even though deep down he already foresees the reason which has done such cruel things to you.

“Let go of me”, you ask him, trying to stay as calm as possible when in reality you would love to yell at him from the top of your lungs that he should not talk to you, that he should stop being nice to you.

“I just wanted to see if everything is okay”, Draco defends himself and from one second to the next the expression on his face goes back to how it was the last time you talked to each other. Hurt and angry.

“You are too late for that”, you speak through gritted teeth, his hand still not letting go of you. The way he talks to you makes you angry. How he treats you as if nothing ever happened makes you furious.

“You gave her your sweater”, it suddenly bursts out of you before you can stop yourself and you watch how Draco’s eyes widen at your statement. You lower your gaze to the floor, not believing that out of all the things you could have said, you chose to say this.

“It is just polyester”, he replies, irritated why you opened up to him all of a sudden. Angrily, you finally snatch your wrist out of his tight grip.

“But you like her better”, you scoff sadly, shaking your head in disappointment, gathering all your thoughts. “Sometimes I wish I were Astoria.”

Silence spreads between you when nobody says anything, and you do not even dare to take your eyes off the ground. Your heart is beating painfully against your chest like crazy, your hands slightly shaking.

“Why do you say that?”, Draco breaks the silence, his voice broken, heartbreaking.

“Because it is the truth”, you ridicule, unable to believe that he still does not understand you. “I am not even half as pretty. I understand why you chose her over me. I mean, why would you ever kiss me? Look at me-“

Not letting you finish your sentence, he suddenly pulls you to him, his hands clasping your face, and letting your words die in your mouth with a kiss. You let yourself go despite your mind and heart yelling at you, telling you to stop. You let him kiss you like you always wanted. Your lips move in harmony with one another, a desire noticeable in the kiss that goes beyond anything.

And as quickly as this indescribable feeling appeared, it disappears again, and you notice how single tears roll down your cheeks. Draco catches some of them with the fingertips of his thumbs, his touch sending warmth through your body. Still being this close to him should make you feel uncomfortable, but on the contrary. You feel safe.

“I am incredibly sorry”, Draco whispers, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while carefully thinking about how to phrase his next words. “I do not like her better. At all.”

“B-But, Draco-“

“Shh”, he softly breathes and puts his thumb on your lips to silence you, his gaze longingly directed at them. “Astoria and I are engaged.”

“WHAT?!”, you scream out in disbelief, violently pushing him away from you, your head realizing that he is indeed just playing one of his games with you again.

“Wait, listen to me. Please”, he almost begs you and takes another step towards you, his hand outstretched to invite yours into his. Not knowing why – maybe because of his shimmering eyes – you agree and carefully place your hand in his, which he immediately grips tightly and thus keeps it from shaking. He gently pulls you closer again, bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss, light as a feather, on the back of it.

“Our parents engaged us. Astoria is a Greengrass, a pureblood. We were promised each other and I- I refused to accept it because my heart belongs to someone else, it always did. But they did not give in and threatened to harm you”, Draco stutters out, his eyes now also filled with tears as he looks deep into yours. “I had to let you go, I had to hurt you to make it believable. You were not allowed to question it. You had to believe it.”

“I have suffered for so long, Draco. Why now? Why are you telling me this now?”, you ask, completely calm, but no longer knowing where to lock away your boiling feelings. “We could have found a solution. You and I, together.”

“I could not let them harm you, don’t you understand?”, he asks desperately, taking your face between his hands again. “I was worried about you. I was selfish because I rather wanted to hurt you myself than let others do it.”

“You were selfish”, you reply coldly and bite down on your lower lip to prevent further tears from falling.

“I know”, Draco admits, bowing his head dejectedly. “I can’t make it up to you. What I have done is unforgivable. But I want you to know that I love you more than anything on this goddamn planet. I do not want to be with Astoria, I want to be with you. By Merlin’s beard, I never wanted anything more in my insignificant life-“

This time, you are the one to cut him off with a kiss mid-sentence. His tense body relaxes in an instant when he returns the kiss with passion and you completely lose yourself in the kiss you should never have given him.

“Come back to me, Draco”, you whisper hopefully after breaking the kiss, kissing a few of his tears away. Draco’s arms wrap tightly around you, pressing you against his warm body with a nod, you can feel his heartbeat violently beat against yours.

“I will.”

And in the end, you were the one who mesmerized him.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 14

Request: Yes or No

TW: Vision dying, the snap victims

Did I almost cry while writing this? Hell ya lmao I had to watch the movie in order to get everything right but im also just a big crybaby lol

Three for the price of one? More likely than you think

~

You gently leaned Vision against a branch, taking a seat beside him. You looked over at Wanda as she landed nearby. She rushed over to you and Vision.

"Are you two okay?" Wanda asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Visions cheek. He groaned in pain, hand going to the Mind Stone. You frowned, touching his arm.

"What? What is it?" Wanda asked, watching him in concern.

"He's here." Vision breathed out, looking around in a panic. You swallowed, a chill running down your spine. Wanda stared at him, a shakey breath leaving her. The team quickly grouped, keeping an eye out for Thanos. You met Buckys gaze, giving him a tired smile as he helped you up.

"You alright?" He asked. You nodded, leaning against him. You noticed movement, turning your head and seeing the giant. You took a small step away from Bucky, watching him.

"Cap... That's him." Bruce confirmed. Steve nodded, beginning to walk towards him. You watched as he effortlessly took out everyone. You glanced back at Wanda and Vision as Vision tried convincing her to destroy the stone. You frowned, looking forward.

"(Y/N)." Bucky grabbed your arm, frowning. You looked at him, offering a small smile.

"We'll be fine, Bucky." You assured before you walked forward, looking at Thanos. You raised your hands, making roots grab onto Thanos. They wrapped around his arms and neck, pulling back. Even if they didn't stop him, it saved Wanda time. You lowered one hand, crouching down and picking up the dagger. Thanos grunted, struggling against the roots. He lunged forward, the roots snapping.

"Oh, shit." You breathed out. You were close enough to stab the side of his stomach before he grabbed your shoulder, tossing you aside and throwing the dagger as well. You were thrown against a tree, making it snap.

"Fuck!" You grunted, head spinning. You shut your eyes tightly, opening them and seeing Wanda using her powers in the Mind Stone. She cried but didn't stop until it finally broke, sending a blast through the area. You looked up, watching Thanos approach Wanda.

"I know how you feel." Thanos said sympathetically. Wanda glared up at him through watery eyes.

"You could never." She whispered. Thanos gently patted her head, continuing towards where Vision once was. He rewound time so Vision was slowly constructed again.

"No!" Wanda screamed, running forward but she was thrown back. Thanos picked Vision up by the throat, pulling the Mind Stone out of his forehead. Your throat went dry as Vsion turned gray and limp. Thor finally appeared, throwing his axe in Thanos chest. You slowly crawled towards Wanda, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Wanda?" You stared down at her, trying to blink away tears. Wanda slowly sat up, a horrified gasp leaving her when she saw Vision. You looked up, seeing Thanos half burnt body and half destroyed gauntlet. He made a portal, going through it before anyone could react.

"Vision.." Wanda whimpered.

"Steve? (Y/N)?" You turned towards Bucky, eyes widening as he fell, turning to dust.

"Bucky?" You called out softly, watching Steve touch the dust in shock.

"Sam?" You called out in a panic, standing up and looking around.

"I'm here." Sam stood, stumbling forward but he fell, turning into a pile of dust.

"(Y/N).." Wanda whispered, making you turn to look at her. She turned to dust as well, panicked breaths leaving you.

"Where are they? What's going on?" You asked with a trembling voice, tears beginning to slip down your cheeks.

"He did it." Steve whispered. You furrowed your brows, making eye contact with Natasha. She frowned, approaching you.

"Oh, baby.." She whispered, giving you a tight hug. You hugged her back, mind racing. You suddenly pulled back.

"Mom and dad.." You breathed out. Natasha's lips parted, nodding. Steve slowly stood, picking Visions body up. The team made their way to the city. Okoye met up with the remaining Dora Milaje, telling them the news of T'Challa. By the time you all reached the city, T'Challa's mother and sister had gotten word. The Queen Mother greeted you and the team with a solemn look on her face. You could tell she was trying to stay strong and fight back tears.

"I need to go see them." You said quietly. Ramonda had Ayo take you and Natasha to a jet. Ayo held a strong face though her eyes were watered as she piloted. Natasha placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stayed silent, staring at the floor. Your mind went blank, trying to focus on calming yourself down. You and Natasha were dropped off at the farm. You felt immense relief upon seeing Clint, running towards him.

"Clint!"

(Y/N), oh thank god!" Clint quickly caught you, arms tightly wrapping around you. You couldn't stop the sobs that wrecked your body, legs buckling beneath you. You and Clint fell to the ground, still holding onto each other.

"They're gone.." You whispered, sniffling afterward as your body trembled.

"Bucky, Sam, Vision, Wanda.. All of them.. They just.. They just turned to dust." You told him in a shakey voice as you pulled back. You could literally see Clints heart break in half. You sniffled, noticing hotdogs on the bench outside.

"Where's mom?" You asked softly, looking at Clint. He stayed silent, staring at the ground. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him.

"Dad?"

"They're gone too, aren't they?" Natasha asked softly, standing behind you. Your face dropped, staring at him as your bottom lip trembled.

"No, no.. They can't.. They couldn't have.." You stood up, stumbling slightly. You glanced at the bench, walking towards the house.

"Mom? Lila? Cooper? Nate?" You called into the empty house, searching for your family. Every room downstairs was empty. You quickly went upstairs, almost tripping as you entered each room. Cooper and Lila's rooms were as messy as always but with no sign of them. You entered Nathaniels' room, almost stepping on a drawing of his. You reached down, picking it up with shakey hands.

"Oh, Nate.." It was of the whole family. It was poorly drawn but it was easy to tell who was who. Tear drops fell onto the paper. You walked towards your room, sitting on the bed. You held tightly into the drawing, holding it against your chest as you cried. You took in short breaths and closed your eyes, letting out a scream full of anger, sadness, and exhaustion. When you opened your eyes, you saw most of your room covered in ice.

"I'm so fucking tired.." You whispered, watching the ice slowly retract.

"I can't have one good thing without it being taken." You muttered, looking out the window. Natasha comfored Clint, most likely having explained everything to him. Natasha left not long after, taking a motorcycle. You licked your lips, hearing Clint step inside the house. It was too silent. You were so used to hearing Laura talking or humming along to whatever song played on the radio, Cooper attempt to teach Nate new words, Lila ask Clint about his work as Hawkeye. You heard Clint heavy footsteps head up the stairs and stop at your door.

"You should take a break from work." Clint said quietly. You kept your stare on the window, mind blank again.

"Okay.." You heard Clint walk away from your room, heading back downstairs. You let out a shakey sigh, reaching out to the device you used to speak to Bucky with. You clicked on the button.

Calling White Wolf...

Call failed.

Your jaw clenched, eyes watering again. Your brows furrowed, noticing one option appear.

Replay previous calls?

You hesitantly clicked on it, brows lifted and lips parting as recordings of all the calls you made with Bucky appeared. You could listen to his voice and see his face again on repeat. You felt some sense of relief. You stood up, grabbing some clothes and a towel. You entered the bathroom, stripping and grunting softly. You turned around, looking at the mirror.

"Fuck.." You breathed out, seeing the bruises. You sighed, turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat. You entered, standing under the water. You watched the blood and dirt go down the drain, slightly leaning against the wall.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" You closed your eyes, running a hand over your face. You licked your lips, finishing your shower and getting out. You carefully dried off, changing and stepping out. You grabbed your phone, checking the news. Half of Earths' population gone. There was confusion, chaos, and fear.

"Where the fuck is Tony?" You asked yourself, noticing some articles about him missing. They had been published before people turned to dust. You clicked on the video, watching it.

"Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, was last seen in his suit flying towards what appeared to be a space ship. Since then, he has not made an appearance and his future wife, Pepper Potts, has neither denied or confirmed his disappearance."

"This is a big fat shit show." You whispered, turning off your phone and standing up. You left your room, heading down the steps and seeing Clint staring at Lilas' old toy bunny.

"I didn't know Tony was getting married." You said quietly, watching him. Clint gave an amused smirk, nodding as he looked at you.

"Neither of us were invited.. Wonder why." Clint said softly. You approached him, sitting beside him and leaning against him.

"At least we have each other."

~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley

[stxvercgersslut]

Love Without Doubt

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Part 1: It’ll be over and I’ll Still Be Asking When

Other people mentioned: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Wanda & others

Warnings: Mentions of death, heartache, language like normal, angry reader, sad steve, dead Tony, smut in the future, pregnancy, a whole load of angst and a whole lot of fluff in future parts.

Description: Losing Tony Stark was the worst thing to ever happen to you. But finding out that you were 3 months pregnant with your late husbands baby hit the nail on the head. You were alone, heartbroken and Scared. Steve’s riddled with guilt, knowing you were out there alone and pregnant hurt him, how could he leave you like that? Exactly he couldn’t.

A/n: I know the pictures are of a white girl but this is by no means a white girl fic. In fact this is reader insert! Meaning that you get to imagine yourself in this fic as y/n, so I will not be addressing the colour of her skin because that is for you to do! :) I know that this chapter is just a short one but this is the prologue. I didn’t think it needed to be that long.

A/n: ahhhh it’s been a while. I’m sorry for my absence I didn’t really plan on writing this again. But after a lot of thinking 🤔 came to the conclusion that I honestly adore this fic too much not to continue it.

Positive.

Shit!

'No no no no no! Y/n this can't be happening right now! How on earth could you let this happen?' You screamed in your head. Just some of the thoughts that were running wild in your brain as you continued to stare hundreds of tiny little holes into the pregnancy test.

Tony had always wanted kids, ever since the pair of your had begun to date those long 7 years ago he'd been open with you about his longing for children. But now the moment you should have shared with your loving husband was shared with you and your reflection in the mirror. The man you loved would never get to meet his beautiful baby and that fact alone was enough to shatter your heart into slivers. There truly was no coming back from this pain.

How could this be happening right now? More importantly, how could this be happening to you right no! After everything you'd been through the world just wouldn't give you a break?!? With Tony gone how on earth were you even going to provide of a baby? Let alone looked after it on your own!

As these questions continued to race around your brain at 100 miles an hour, your hands began to shake uncontrollably whilst tears began to fall from your eyes. It was no surprise that you were understandably distraught with the cards you'd been dealt by the world.

————————————————————

Despite your pain, Steve was going through heartbreak just as much as you were, completely traumatised due to being forced to watch one of his best friends sacrifice himself in order to save not only the world but also the universe it's self. Not only did he have the trauma but he also had the guilt of your pain looming over you.

Due to what he'd witnessed Steve would find himself experiencing nightmare after nightmare every single night, barely managing to sneak in any sleep before the images of his former best friend, Tony Stark, dying in front of him reappeared in his brain for what felt like the millionth time. It had only been 3 days since that dreaded day yet he'd been tossing and turning ever since. Living alone in his currant state was never a good idea. But since he had no one to help him through the PTSD he had to just struggle on through.  With all his failures coming back to haunt him it was tough but he had to try. Otherwise what was the point in anything?

As the early hours of the morning sunshine began to shine through his half open curtains, Steve jolted awake. Once again awakened by the deadliness of his nightmare. However, this time, unlike any other time, he woke up with an overwhelming sense of guilt towards you. His entire heart burning from what you must have been going through.  After all he knew exactly how close you and Tony use to be, how could he have been so cruel to rip that away from you when you'd been so happy?

Knowing that you'd be all alone in that huge cabin, alone with your thought eating you alive just like his were, truly didn't sit right with him. It was just in his blood to help people, whether or not they actually wanted his help was a different question but if someone was in distress, which he somehow had a feeling you were, he had to at least try and help.

Grunting, the still slightly panicked soldier stretched out his limbs, releasing all tensions from the night before as he did every morning even before the blip. It was just apart of his routine now and he'd never be able to stop that.

'Alright, time to get up I guess' the male mumbled to himself as his feet met the hard wood of his apartment bedroom floor. Ever since the blip Steve hadn't been able to stay at the Avengers compound, too afraid of having to relive all of those failures again. Now, with the compound completely and utterly destroyed, it was just an added reason for him not to go back there. Especially with everything that had gone on in there before.

He may have looked okay from the outside but on the inside? Oh he was a broken man alright. What did anyone expect from a super soldier who'd been through as much trauma as him?

As the male prepared his morning coffee his mind wandered back to you, wondering what on earth you could have been doing in a cabin all alone by yourself. Maybe you were still asleep in bed , shaking off all the loneliness and all the heart break with as much sleep as you could? If that was the case then maybe Steve could rest easier knowing that for the most part you were okay. Maybe he would have been able to forget about you if he knew for certain that you were able to slip into a state of peace when you fell asleep.

But for some reason Steve just couldn't shake the idea of you maybe crying yourself to sleep every night. Or even worse, what if you were listening to that damn hologram again? Or his voicemail again? What if you still hated him? Oh he had to put this right.

Deep down Steve knew you hated the way that he'd handled things, the way he'd brutally dragged your husband away from you. Bursting the bubble surrounding the two of you in the process. But if there was any possible way that he could put all the heartbreak right and ease his Conscience in the process then he had to try right? No matter how much you hated him right now he knew that you'd need a friend right now.

So without a second thought, the super soldier poured his morning coffee into a travel mug (one Bucky had bought him one year), threw on a t-shirt and jeans, grabbed his leather jacket as well as his keys and left the house. There just had to be a way to put this right.

As Steve made his way to the cabin that used to be shared by you and Tony, he couldn't help but lose himself in deep thought. Struggling to comprehend how life had just fucked everyone over so awfully. Yeah they managed to get their lives back and bring everyone home in the process. But what good was that when Tony didn't arrive back home to you safely? What use was bringing all the blipped back when Steve had to explain to you that your husband was never coming home. The world was cruel, that he knew for certain.

It hadn't taken him more than an hour to finally arrive at your cabin, sucking in a deep breath as he slowly exited him car and made his way up to the front door.

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to attempt to talk to you even though he knew that you most likely hated his guts?

Apparently so since his he curled his hand into a fist and gently knocked on the door, staring is hung that he could hear the sound of joyful laughter. But in reality all he could hear was painful sobs. That was the hardest part, hearing you sob was already breaking his heart. It was times like these he truly did wish that his hearing wasn’t as strong as it happened to be.

With one more breath, Steve finally pulled himself together and knocked 3 times, hoping you’d opened the door for him.

————————————————————

You'd been so caught up in your emotional agony that you'd barely had enough time to hear the first couple knocks, but by the third knock your senses seemed to finally come back quick enough to only slightly hear the very last knock.

After straightening yourself up a little you finally made your way towards the door, dreading the panic attack that was most likely coming your way after everything you’d gone through. However, nothing had prepared you for who you found at the door upon opening.

“Steve?” You groaned almost angrily; practically spitting it out.

Tags: @jtargaryen18​ @chuckbass-love​ @et-lesailes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @cevans-fics​ @dwights-new-plague @sweetllamaparadise @jessyballet @lharrietg @patzammit

[magicmanias]

The Story of Creation

Episode 1 of Polaris

[per - uh - jee] (n). Astronomy. the point in the orbit of a heavenly body at which it is nearest to the earth.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: A fugitive out of time + interdimensional space travel + a love story. Always on the run, and while Loki might be able to escape the TVA, he always gravitates towards you. Not even bending the fabric of space and time itself can cut his heartstrings.  Occurs after the events of Endgame. Replaces Loki mini-series timeline.

Warnings: Blood, Death, Mild Violence

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: I'M BACK BABY! *cue sit-com cheers* I thought of this mess of a series, and I had to get back into writing, damn it. I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

<- Previous | Next ->

He did not think this through.

The fallen god grasped at the ground beneath him. He’s covered in ash and the air around him burns and freezes. He smelled smoke and fire and then blood and flesh. He pushed himself up off the metal floor. “Where the hell am I?”

A weak moan alerted him, and to his left, he found a man in his final seconds. The dying man lifted his arm weakly; his fingers shook. He rasped out a last cry for help at his prince before his hand fell and his soul was sent to Valhalla. Loki knew that man. He sold Blåveis and wildflowers at the edge of the market when he was a child. Why was he here… dying a warrior’s death?

“Our crew is made up of Asgardian families.” A transmission. “We have very few soldiers here. This is not a warcraft. I repeat this is not a warcraft.” Asgardian? This ship certainly wasn’t Asgardian... Why was this man sending a mayday call?

“Hear me and rejoice…”

The bodies around him were all Asgardians. Soldiers and men laid lifeless in this iron room—on this ship that was not a warcraft. Surely Thor wouldn’t let this happen… Nor Odin. How did this happen?

He was no less confused when he heard his brother speaking on the other side of a large crack in the metal wall. On the level below him stood his brother trapped in steel and strange beings he’d never encountered. One was tall with a gauntlet of gold like the one Odin kept locked away in his vault. He was collecting Infinity Stones… Behind him was a thin and sinister figure. And another was… himself. With the tesseract. Like the one that was… where was it?

“Loki?” A woman watched him from behind a fallen support beam. In her hands was the Tesseract. Her lip curled downward and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why do you have this?”

“Who are you?” Alright, so she knew his name, and he clearly didn’t know her. Her clothes were not of Asgard. The dress was revealing and unfitted to her, the straps her too long, making the neckline only slip further. Even as she watched him carefully, she still absentmindedly pulled up the straps.

“Wha—”

A scream from below interrupted the woman. She ran to the edge of the room and peered through the wall. Loki could not see what was happening, but the horror in the woman’s eyes said enough.

“Oh Valhalla...” Her hand clamped over her mouth. Loki slowly approached the source of the screams before he heard his own voice.

“ALL RIGHT, STOP!!” The woman gasped and stepped back, turning to face him. Her eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled. She turned back to him.

“Who are you?” she demanded, though her voice wavered. “Are you one of them?”

Loki scoffed. “I haven’t the slightest ide—”

“Why do you look like him?” she cut him off. “You’re not Loki,” she insisted.

Loki chuckled nervously, but he flashed a charming smile and lifted his hands hoping to appear non-threatening. He started to approach her, trying to figure out a way to get the Tesseract back.

“Don’t come any closer! I will—use this!” she warned, holding the cube in between the two of them.

“Do you even know how to use that?”

“Um—well, do you?”

“I got here with that thing, didn’t I? Now give it back.” He stretched his hand out to her, but she didn’t move a muscle.

“No, I—”

Loki had enough. He wanted answers. Now. The woman gasped as he disappeared and reappeared in front of her in a flash of green, the cube now in his hand and her arm in his other. “Tell me where I am.”

She stared at his grip on her. “You’re not my Loki…” she inquired once more.

A daunting whir of hums and struggles came from the crack. The woman peered back at the scene below. Thor’s muffled cry filled the walls of the iron room, but it was the woman’s scream that shook Loki to his core. She fell to the floor and wailed and howled in agony. A weak “no” and soft pleas escaped her tears.

Loki glanced through the hole as the woman started to gulp air between her sobs. His lifeless body was strewn on the floor, and a purple haze shrouded his view of the scene below. Amethyst flames began to surround the ship. Metal and dead men were enveloped in the blaze. Loki never liked the heat…

It appeared that Loki’s time here… wherever he was, was about to come to an end. Blue light encased his fingertips and the cube materialized before him. A sharp choking sound clouded out Loki’s attempts to think of anywhere he could go—the woman.

“Shit…” Using his free arm, Loki pulled the woman up before she could protest. “This better work.” He lifted the Tesseract and prayed the silvery clouds encasing him and his new acquaintance would take him anywhere better than here.

Loki sat up covered in sand. Again, more heat. He was really starting to think this damned cube was more a curse than a blessing.

“Oh… ow…” The woman groaned and rubbed her puffy eyes. Squinting under the desert sun, she glanced around to view her surroundings before her eyes widened in realization. “Oh shit!” Her hands returned to the ground, burying themselves in the sand frantically.

She whipped around in a haze of anger and hysteria. “Take me back!” she screamed to him. “Take me back!”

“What the hell are you talking about!? That ship is gone—and I just saved your life!” Loki argued, but she wasn’t listening and continued to dig through the sand. Loki ignored her as he concealed the cube under his magic. He looked back up to see the woman still clawing at the sand. “Who are you?”

“Take… Take me back,” she begged, slowly giving up on the sand. “I have to go back.”

Loki watched the woman break into sobs once again. His grip on the dagger up his sleeve softened and his gaze relaxed. “Who are you?” he asked once more.

“Is this some cruel trick you played Loki? Because it’s horribly unfunny!”

“I assure you that I don’t have the slightest clue as to what you’re referring. That… Loki. He wasn’t me.” Where did this damn thing take him?

“I don’t believe you. You… Out of all the things you’ve done Loki. Lying, stealing, killing, faking your death. I’m… I can’t take it! You promised you wouldn’t—”

A flash of orange cut off the woman. The light shaped itself into a doorway above the dunes.

“What the hell—” Loki turned on his heel to face the orange portal in time to see four men step out two-by-two. Their tailored coats were labeled with “TVA” and Loki’s stomach immediately dropped. “Shit.”

One of the men in the back handed the forefront man a clipboard from which he read off, “Mister Laufeyson and… friend. The TVA requests your presence at headquarters. You are under arrest for meddling in with the fabric of space-time. Please be compliant and come with us. Your friend can come if she’d like.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Loki insisted. “If you don’t mind, I would hate to have all this trouble I’ve been through go to waste. Thank you. Bye!” Just as he was about to pull out the Tesseract, one of the men suddenly appeared in front of him and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Loki threw a dagger at the man, hitting him square in the chest. The man merely looked down at the weapon, no change in his expression. He grabbed onto the handle of the dagger and pulled it out. No blood, the wound already healed.

“Please comply, Mister Laufeyson. The TVA expects your arrival,” he said.

“I don’t think so.” Loki revealed the Tesseract with his magic, praying it would take him somewhere good for once. But as soon as he took it out, the handcuffs were tightened on his wrist. The emotionless man repeated his request for compliance.

The other men move then, making their way to the woman. She stands slowly and silently allows them to escort her to the portal. She refuses to meet Loki’s eyes as they both walk defeated to the portal.

“So he’s really not lying then,” she said quietly. Her hands dug into her skirts. Her hair covered half of her face, but anyone could make out the tears that lined her cheeks.

“No, I’m afraid not, Miss,” Mobius answered. “I regret to say your actual husband is gone.”

She pushed the desk and her metal chair screeched on the linoleum floor. Loki didn’t look up from his hands planted on his tan prisoner uniform pants as he listened to her distant footsteps and the sound of a closing door. He tugged at the cuffs on his wrists. He could feel the magic dampened in his veins. The muscles in his forearms felt dull.

“Loki,” Mobius started. “As you can see, the warrant for your arrest specifies that we will have to prosecute you. You’ve broken several laws, violating the guidelines of linear time travel as well as interdimensional voyaging. While our agents are currently fixing the mess you made, including sending that lovely woman back to Earth-200000, you will, of course, have to be sent back to Earth-199999 so that the course of events and play as they were supposed—”

“You’re going to kill her.”

“Excuse me?”

The door kicked open again. Another agent in a clean suit marched in with a glass plate in hand with a sandwich laying on top. He placed the sandwich on the desk and left as quickly as he came in. “The woman. There’s nothing to send her back to. The ship she was on was destroyed before I saved her. You’re not sending her back. You’re going to kill her.”

Mobius leaned forward on his desk, clasping his hands. “We’re simply sending her back straight back to the time and place she left. If that happens to lead to her death, so be it. That’s her fate.” He paused to rest his head on his hands. “What do you care anyway? You don’t know her.

Loki hesitates to answer. No, he didn’t know her, but… he can’t stop thinking about how she reacted when… he died. The he that she married. Devoted herself to. She looked… dead inside. Hollow. Did she feel as he did when he fell from the Rainbow Bridge all those years ago? Was he looking at her the way Thor did when he let go?

“Are you going to eat that by the way?” Mobius pointed to the sandwich. “That’s technically for you, but I skipped lunch.” He didn’t wait for Loki’s answer before bending over the desk and taking the sandwich before taking a large bite out of the corner. Loki leaned back in his seat.

“If she was my wife in another dimension, I can’t help but be curious. Perhaps I’d enjoy her company.” Loki tilted his head. The gears turned in his head. He needed to figure out a way to escape. The TVA took the Tesseract from him, and he wasn’t keen on making an exit in prisoner attire.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for widows.”

“Well, I can’t say it’s never crossed my mind,” Loki smirked.

Mobius chuckled and took another bite of the sandwich. “Sadly, we’ll never know how that would work out. An agent will escort you to your holding cell until further notice.” An agent waited for Loki to stand and directed him towards the exit. “Oh, and thank you for your compliance.”

The TVA looked awfully like Midgard, perhaps from some decades ago. The architecture was garish, and the employees were... disconcerting. Each bred and born for a specific purpose. His… Odin once told him about the Time Variance Authority. Existing in an infinite dominion between worlds, a bureaucracy that rules the operations of time across the multiverse. Workers are cloned to working perfecting. Minimize disputes, increase efficiency.

The agent guided him down another long hall with identical doors lining the walls, opening and closing as countless numbers of agents entered and exited them. Loki glanced to his left. An agent walked through the door… to a jungle on the other side. To his right, a female agent exited a metropolis with flying vehicles. Another escorted a Krylorian to a portal leading to a crashing ocean. The chains between his limbs clinked as he strolled down the hall that never seemed to end.

“Thank you. I… think I’m ready now.” You stood in front of a closed door, holding the hand of an agent. He nodded and you dropped his hand. He opened the door, silently motioning her towards the shipwreck that Loki had rescued you from a mere couple of hours ago.

Loki muttered your name.

“Oh, uh hello.” You shifted uncomfortably. “I have to say. I think you look better in green.”

Loki smiled softly. “I think this attire might be worse than my actual punishment.”

You chuckled in return. “At least I can die in dignity in my own clothing.”

Loki was taken aback. “You’re not serious?” Loki again noticed the state of your appearance. Eyes flushed and puffy and red. Your bottom lip was swollen as you continued to chew on it.

“I am.” He said your name once more, like he was in disbelief that you would be so willing to give up your life like this. He reminded you so much of the man you married. Always the survivalist. It was strange to see the face of the love of your life standing before you even though it wasn’t really him. Some part of you wished your husband was the one standing before you, but there stood a slightly younger version of the god that you would have given your life for... in the flesh. “I hate to end our new friendship on such a bad note, but you do age quite a bit in the next few years. Try to sleep more, my dear Loki.”

The god scoffed and turned his head. “I’m not letting you just… kill yourself.”

“I’m just taking a page from your book.” You swallowed, a frown evident on your lips. “I assume you did the same as my Loki after Thor destroyed the Rainbow Bridge.” You turned and looked at the scene of the broken ship floating in the cosmos. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that… Take care of yourself, Loki.”

Loki grasped your wrist before you could walk through causing the cuffs to pull his other arm up. The agent behind Loki tapped his shoulder, insisting that they needed to move on, but he ignored his probes.

“I’m not letting you walk through that door.”

“My husband is dead.” There was an insistence in your voice that you seldom used, and yet your breath quivered. The tip of your nose was cold. The tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you sighed and wiped your eyes. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I want to be with him. Let me go, Loki.”

The agent now placed a firm hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Mr. Laufeyson. It’s time to go.”

Loki turned back around, a devilish grin lining his lips. “Yes, I believe it is.”

In a trice, the agent behind Loki was on the floor and the one guiding you was on the other side of the door, floating in the ship debris where you were supposed to be. The raucous alerted the other agents in the hall who turned their heads in the direction of the noise. They began to make their way towards you. Loki acted quickly, lifting his cuffed hands above your head and looping his arm around your waist, pulling you to the other side of the hall.

“Are you ready?” he asked, backing up slightly like he was readying himself for a leap. Loki didn’t wait for your answer and ran straight towards the open door across from him. You saw a small glimpse of a grassy field before hitting solid ground.

“Why did you do that!?” You whipped your head up, your hair strewn about your face in a wild mess. Your ill-fitting clothes were now caked in dirt and grass stains. You stood on a hill overlooking a… rather familiar landscape.

“I saved your life. Again!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you, but the effort was lost with his bound hands. He grunted in frustration.

“I-I wanted to go. I didn’t want to be saved!”

Loki took in a hot breath. “You wouldn’t have seen him anyway. Valhalla is a heaven for warriors and your valiant death wouldn’t have given you an in.”

That you laughed at, if not bitterly. “You always said you’d go to Hel. I intended on seeing you there.”

“I am not your husband,” Loki spat, venom lining his words.

“No! You’re not. Yet you’ve kept me from him,” you said matching the malice in his voice.

Two voices interrupted your argument.

“Goddess, you will ruin me one day.” A young boy with inky hair ran up on the other side of the hill, holding a posy of flowers. He looked down the hill and knelt down, reaching his hand out. An equally tiny hand held onto his hand, letting him pull up. A girl pushed up and sat on the peak of the hill. He awkwardly shoved the flowers in her hands, like he’d been holding them for her when they climbed up the mound of dirt and grass.

“My mother says you’re dangerous, Trickster,” the girl taunted, reorganizing the flowers in a prettier arrangement. “Like the Midgard Serpent. You’ll strike when we least expect it.”

“Perhaps I’ll marry you. Your mother surely wouldn’t expect that,” the boy smirked. The girl pretended to attack her friend, attempting to make him jump. She wasn’t strong enough to knock him down though, and he snickered. He pushed her playfully, but she slipped and rolled down the hill, giggling the entire way down. The boy hopped down, rolling and laughing along with her.

“Oh Valhalla…” You paled.

“What?” Loki prodded. Watching the children at the bottom of the hill.

“We have to hide. Now.”

Loki was about to prompt her for an explanation, but the little girl’s playful wail answered his questions instantly.

“Loki!”

[salt-warrior]

RISE FROM THE ASHES

A When Earth Turns to Ashes sequel

Masterlist

Chapter Fourteen: The Consequences of Love

Kai cried out as the warm caress of fire etched it way up his back. For one, there was the pain of it. And for another, there were the memories. The ones of burning to a crisp. The ones that felt like dreams he wasn't supposed to wake up from.

But almost immediately, the flames flickered out, leaving him panicked, but relatively unscathed. He could still feel the heat from where the conflagration had grazed him, but it was more of an agitating sort of pain— one felt after holding one's hands above a fire for too long. There had been no damage done to his person.

Cinder, on the other hand, had an expression that conveyed only her own personal destruction.

She stumbled away from him, hand clasped over her mouth as sobs began to pour out of her. Her back hit the wall and she slid to the floor, staring at Kai all the while, terror carved into her expression and horror engraved upon her soul. Cinder watched him from the floor in the seconds it took for Kai to regain his composure.

He made a move toward her, but she thrust her hands at him in a motion of warding off an attacker and screamed. He froze. She dropped her arms. They stared at one another.

"Cinder," Kai said, his voice low and hesitant. She flinched, dropping her hands to cover her face. "Cinder, please don't freak out. Nothing happened. We're fine. It's fine."

She didn't move. Neither did he.

"Cinder, please."

"You got burned," Cinder whispered.

"No, I didn't."

"You cried out. You screamed."

"I was shocked," Kai said. "I wasn't expecting it. It was only a startled response."

"And I caused it."

"No."

"Yes," Cinder said, eyes full of tears. Her nose twitched and she licked at her lips, as if trying to find words there. Her arms folded tight over her midsection. "I scared you, Kai." She leaned forward, her face turned up toward his. "I scared you. Me. I scared you."

"It's not your fault," Kai said, falling to his knees before her. He didn't touch her, but his face was inches away from her own. "You didn't mean to. It's not you—"

"Stars, Kai," Cinder spat, jerking away from Kai. "I hurt you, I scared you, and you're making excuses for me? Can't you see how unbelievably toxic this has become?"

Kai stared at her, stunned. They had their faults most definitely. Things had been more difficult than usual over the past month between his father dying and this new ghost haunting Cinder. But had their relationship become toxic?

Cinder continued, "You're making excuses for me hurting you, Kai. You're—"

"No, you're taking the blame for something out of your power," Kai said. "You're just scared. Too scared to stick this out."

"Scared to stick this out?" Cinder gasped, her face twisted. "Taking the blame for something that's not my fault? It is my fault, Kai. She's my mother. She's killed two of the people I love. Three, really. She killed you last year, Kai. She killed you." Cinder pulled her knees up to her chest. She looked small. Too small. More like a child waiting out a thunderstorm than a woman haunted by the ghosts of her past.

"We don't even know if it's her."

"But we do!" Cinder exclaimed. "There's no other explanation. The Lemuralia Phantoms can have human power sources. The ghost haunting me uses fire, and she only comes when I'm around."

"And me."

"What?"

"It comes when I'm around, too," Kai said. "Have you ever stopped to consider that it could be me? That Cress was right in her first assumption of a poltergeist?"

"You couldn't," Cinder snarled.

"And how are you supposed to know what I can or cannot do?"

"You just couldn't."

Kai grabbed at his hair, frustration taking over. "Why are you so insistent upon playing the victim?"

"The victim?" Cinder's voice dropped. "If anything, I'm the villain, Kai. The one who's screwed your life over too many times to count. The one that you should be running screaming from."

"But I'm not."

"So what does that make you?" Cinder spat.

Kai froze, cheeks coloring. He didn't know why, but the words stung. Almost as if she had called him something obscene.

She saw the change and shut her eyes tight, fists clenched. She inhaled deeply. He couldn't stop examining her— waiting for the moment that she would bolt. Because she was Cinder, and that's all she knew how to do: run. Run away from her problems, from the things tormenting her, from love. Because they were all frightening, and every ounce of her courage had been spent on existing.

"I can't stay here, Kai. You know that. Though you won't admit it to yourself, it's a relief, letting me go. It will hurt—" Cinder's voice broke, "—but it will be for the best. For both of us."

"No," Kai said, the ferocity of his love and his insistent stubbornness getting the better of him.

"Kai—"

"No," Kai repeated. "Cinder, you don't just get to call it quits here. You don't get to just run away from what's going on until we actually know what's going on. This ghost, or whatever the hell it is, we don't know if it's haunting you. It could be mine. Maybe it's my dad, or—"

"Your dad couldn't be a ghost. He didn't die a violent, unnatural death. You couldn't create a poltergeist either," Cinder cut in. "It's me. I'm the problem."

"Or maybe it's neither of us," Kai finished, shooting a glare at Cinder. "Maybe there's something else going on here and you're acting prematurely."

"You're acting like I'm going to go throw myself off a building."

"Maybe because you're acting like you just might."

Cinder huffed, then abruptly got to her feet. She began to pace the apartment, periodically bringing her hands up to her face or grumbling to herself. Then she turned to Kai, pointing down into his face. "Me wanting to get away from you does not equate to me wanting to end my life. It's just... distance might be the only thing that will keep whatever this is away."

"But if you leave, we may never discover what's haunting you," Kai argued. "And then you'd live the rest of your life on the run. Is that what you want?"

Cinder groaned. She put her hands at the base of her neck and pulled down, as if she could drag herself down to the very depths of hell. "We're running in circles here, and you can't seem to understand that there's a problem here that's bigger than our relationship."

"Nothing is bigger than the two of us."

"Your life is."

Kai sank to the floor. There was a terrible ache pulsing within him, as if his sadness had its own heartbeat. Or perhaps it was his heart, tapping out his misery, not wanting him to miss the horrible feeling it was to feel love slipping from one's fingers.

He knew that Cinder was right— of course she was. No relationship was worth one's mortality. But if that was so, then why did he care so little for his own life and so much for his love of Cinder? For her, he would die a thousand deaths, light up in flames a million times, take his final breath by her side every moment of his existence. Because she was all he cared for.

She was the girl he had saved— the one who had saved him in return. Because that's what they did— they saved one another. Only this time, it seemed that their only means of safety was separation.

"I don't know how to live without you," Kai whispered. He leaned his head back against the wall, unashamed as tears trickled from his eyes. "I don't know how to do it, Cinder. First my mother, then my father. Now... you. I can't do it."

"I know," Cinder said, crouching down beside him this time. She planted her hands on either side of his face. "It's not easy for me either, you know."

"Then why are you doing it?" Kai practically sobbed. He stared up into her eyes with earnest, the pulse of aching throbbing through his very soul. "Why are you leaving?"

"Because I love you."

"Is that why you leave everyone? Because that's the only way you know how to love?"

Cinder smiled bitterly. "No," she sighed. "I'm leaving because I know what happens if I don't. I understand the consequences of my love."

Kai searched her eyes for any regret, but found none. It didn't make it any easier to let her go. Because while she did not appear regretful, there was mourning in her gaze. There was sadness, and a sort of loneliness that only the abandoned could feel. It hurt her to leave him, just as it tore him apart to be left behind, but she would not regret it.

"What will I do?" Kai asked. "What am I supposed to do? I can't just move on."

"I know," Cinder said. "But you have to. At least try."

"Just give it more time," Kai pleaded, though he knew it was pointless. He wasn't going to give up on her without a fight, but he could feel the effort of trying to keep her from catching up with him. They'd been fighting this battle for far too long, and she was by far the more experienced warrior. "It hasn't hurt me. Really."

Cinder laughed, though there was no humor to it. "Kai, the back of your shirt is nearly gone. That's not escaping unscathed."

"I'm not hurt," Kai hissed. "Please."

Cinder dropped her hands from his face and stood abruptly. Her face twitched, presumably with the effort of trying not to cry, though no tears escaped. She simply stared at him, her face blotchy and her expression beyond destroyed. She was a woman who had given her all and found nothing left, no semblance of herself, not even a ghost.

Without hesitation, Cinder walked away from him and into their bedroom. He heard her moving swiftly, packing items she would need for wherever she went. It was dark outside, but he knew it wouldn't deter her from leaving. Nothing could stop Cinder.

Mere minutes later, she walked out of the room with her backpack slung over her shoulder. A lump rose in Kai's throat, and suddenly, it hit him. She was leaving him. Not just going to work, but leaving. Abandoning him perhaps forever. And he couldn't bear the idea.

He moved to stand in front of the door, like a pathetic child begging their parents to stay. Because he would fight for her until his heart stopped beating and his soul ceased to be.

"Kai," Cinder said, approaching him with her hands up. "You have to let me go."

"I can't."

A burst of light flared up between the two of them, causing Cinder's eyes to appear more gold than brown, as if she were a being not known to mankind. The flames made her look they way she had the first time Kai had laid eyes on her: like the Angel of Hell.

Kai fell to the ground, unable to quench the fear that burned within him at the sight of the flames. He stared at them in all their glory, watching the unnaturalness of them— the way they floated in the air, fed by nothing.

And when they vanished, Kai was alone.

Tags: @shellyseashell @cinderswrench @healing-winston-pratt @just2bubbly @silverstars21 @gingerale2017 @greasicookies  @the-wee-woo-rita @zephyr-thedragon @bookpapaya @cindersassasin @the-jewel-of-ketterdam

[jengajives]

So Fingolfin has always been one of my absolute favorites and I’ve just been thinking about how horrible he must have felt during the Bragollach to drive him to do what he did

The sky was a dull orange haze, the air a thick and poisonous fume that made the Noldor cough and the Edain retch. If a force were to march on them now, even the sharp eyes of the Eldar would not be able to mark their approach until it was too late. The smoke turned everything beyond a few yards to a grey smudge.

Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor, sat on a tumbled stone with his head in his hands.

Every once in a while the ground itself would heave. Every once in a while, screams broke the guarded silence and he saw the glow of fresh flame somewhere not-so-distant in the constant gloom.

His people were dying.

“Dôlhel,” he said weakly, as the lieutenant passed him by carrying an armful of soiled bandages. “Has there been any word from the south?” A horrible emptiness in his throat rose, difficult to speak around. “Is my son still alive?”

The assault had fallen heavier down near Mithrim, and of course Fingon had insisted on being there, when Fingolfin should have gone himself.

Foolish. Cowardly.

He should be there where the strike at his land came hardest. He should be there.

“The orcs haven’t breached the mountains.” Dôlhel pushed up the visor of her helmet, so he could more clearly see her one dark eye watching attentively. “I would guess that Lord Fingon still stands.”

He let out a breath, hoping that somehow it would help the mounting dread escape him, but the fear remained there, lodged in the back of his throat.

Dôlhel seemed to sense that he’d be asking for more news, so she put aside her bundle and lifted the silver helmet from her head, tucking it beneath her arm. Her hair hung in messy braids that would have to be redone if she wanted to keep it out of her eye.

Fingolfin tried to ignore the throbbing urgency that beat against his ribs. Reflexively, he gripped the hilt of his sword, resting next to him on the rubble.

“Turgon and Aredhel?”

Dôlhel simply shrugged. “No sign, Your Majesty.”

He had gotten very good at pretending the two of them were safe. Nowadays it felt more likely that the Enemy had somehow killed or taken them and all their people overnight, without a single trace. But Fingolfin tried not to think that.

If they weren’t fighting, he had to pray they were safe.

Far off, he heard a cry and a clang of steel. The sounds of frenzied battle lasted a few minutes this time, before all fell silent again. After a few tense moments, an Elf-horn blew. They had won the skirmish.

Fingolfin remembered to breathe again.

“Your Majesty,” Dôlhel said slowly. “You should be resting.”

“I am resting.” He had fought without break for four days. Now he had the chance to sit and breathe, when too many others were not so lucky. This was enough. “Finarfin’s sons. Where are they?”

“The last scouts to return saw Finrod and his host in the Pass, with Orodreth, but they don’t the strength to hold it. No one has heard from Angrod and Aegnor. Dorthonion is overrun. We... We don’t think they survived.”

A piercing cold shot through Fingolfin’s head. Cold as the Helcaraxë’s horrid bite, and a groan tore through his ragged thoughts, though he wasn’t sure if it actually escaped his lips.

He had promised his brother he would keep them safe. That he would take Finarfin’s children as his own, and see them protected.

Now two were dead, and the other brothers more than likely to follow.

And he could do nothing to help with the orcs pressing him to the mountains, pinning him there as they destroyed his family one piece at a time.

When the orcs broke through the Pass of Sirion, they would overrun the Havens and Nargothrond, and they would turn back north to crush Hithlum from two sides, and Fingolfin would die holed up in his valley like a cornered rat, and all of this would be for nothing.

His head swam. Again, he gripped his sword, trying to convince himself that he still had strength to hold it.

“And Maedhros.” The smoke curled gleefully in his lungs. “Has the east fallen?”

Dôlhel shifted uncomfortably.

“No one has returned with tidings from the east, Your Highness. Our messengers were taken by a company of orcs and most were destroyed. The others had to turn back. No one can get through.”

The urgency in his chest changed, and his entire body shook with a sob he couldn’t smother.

“He’s dead, then.”

Dôlhel paused, obviously unsure how to respond. Eventually she offered a shaky, “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

If Maedhros had fallen, that meant his brothers were dead, too. The east would be overrun and taken, and then not even Melian would be able to withstand the Enemy.

Middle-Earth would fall and Fingolfin would be the last of all his kin to die, if Morgoth even granted him that mercy.

His thoughts, for a moment, fled the lands that held nothing but sorrow, and flew back across the Grinding Ice and down the coast of Aman until he settled back home in Tirion, and saw his mother, and Finarfin, and the brilliance of sunlight glinting off the jewels of the sea. And he imagined his father was there, and Fëanor, and all his children and nieces and nephews; he saw things as they were supposed to be and it tore his heart to shreds.

He came here to avenge Finwë, only to join him in death without justice. He came for love of Fëanor his brother, who was dead. And he left so much behind, just to lose everything he had hoped to save.

His hands were remarkably steady when he reached down and put on his helmet.

He would not cower here and let Morgoth stamp out his family without repercussion. They would be avenged- all of them. Finwë and Fëanor, Turgon, Aredhel, Finrod, Orodreth, Aegnor and Angrod, Maedhros, Maglor, and all the Men who had died because they believed the Noldor would win this fight. Everyone who had died for a lie.

Fingolfin rose to his feet. The sword so familiar in his hand.

“Get my horse.”