#the colors keep looking super dull sobs

[seraphicghost]

as promised, Midnight x Inko B)  happy pride

[stuckysdumbbitch]

Oh my god red I just got this idea for bucky and reader she was his prize for doing good on his missions so after getting rescued he brought her with him and she became his little girl and he pampered her as long as she did what he asked for but one day she watched a movie and there were fairies in it so she decides to sneak out and search for some of them ( they live in a cabin in the woods ) so she went in the forest and bucky didn't find her so he got mad at her so when he found her he fucked her out there on the grass and said some really really mean words that she got sooooooo sad and he just took away her spark the rest is up to you but please please make it a bit happy at the end also he's soft!dark

I gave you my thoughts , do with them what you will I'm sure it will be great no matter what 😌

uuu nice

warnings: dubcon/ noncon, rough sex, forced regresión, size kink, degradation, depressive reader

You were waken from your nap by the dull thudding of the grass beneath you, the surface that had granted you peace and relaxation now dangerously shaking. Steps that weren’t able to be done by any normal men, steps stepped with the built up anger and aggression of a super soldier.

Still dizzy for the nap, you got on your hands to observe around you. The sweet valley you had found comfort in now darker, stars twinkling as the moon shone over you and the looming creature. Before you could even process it, you were tackled face-first into the ground, the earthy scent filling your nostrils as dirt roughed up your cheeks.

“There you are,” he seethed, one hand keeping your face against the grass and the other seizing your flailing hands. “Why the fuck did you think you could leave like that? little bitch.”

As soon as his hateful words left his lips, tears begun to spill from your eyes as your cheeks burned with shame, you tried to explain but only wrecking sobs left your lips.

“You’re a fucking whore,” Bucky growled, flesh hand ripping your tighs apart as he prodded your soft center; you always answered to his touch, sloppy wetness leaving coating his fingers as you relaxed into the ground, the burning pain disappearing for a bit. His fingers were removed as quickly as they entered, replacing with the dreadful sound of his zipper. You squirmed, caged between his massive and powerful thighs as he stuck the head of his cock between the conjunction of your ass cheeks and your thighs.

“gonna tie you to a tree and leave anyone have their piece of you, would you like that? let any drunk touch this tiny body?” He emphasized his words with a harsh thrust, bottoming his powerful girth inside your wet but small hole. Your eyes rolled back, the pain blooming and mixing with the pleasure a sensation far too otherworldly. “Bet you would like that, that’s why you run away huh? do you want the mean men to take you back?”

the mean men

Those words stuck to your brain in between his movements, the dizziness and pleasure making the flashbacks of heavily armored men with evil smiles and wandering hands flood your brain. More tears fell down your cheeks you inhaled more dirt, the ache on your stomach turning into a knot as Bucky chased his orgasm carelessly, grip tight on your neck and hip.

It erupted before you could control it, a fire that lit you up as your moans became high pitched and your whimpers broke past your lips. You came, flooding your thighs with your cum, but Bucky didn’t stop. Not until you were shaking and sobbing and your cervix was thoroughly battered. His metallic hand laced your curls as he dragged you back to the house, your mind drifting off to fairies and woodland creatures.

the awakening was softer than you expected, Bucky cleaning your sensitive core as your sleep-heavy eyes did little to help your state.

“Drawings,” you mumbled softly, and Bucky sighted as he looked over to the mahogany table, your colorful pens and paper sheets still scattered, the tv now humming lowly. Something tells him to look at the drawings with tiny figures hiding in trees, and he groans.

His anger dissipates as the days go by, seeing how you can barely get out of bed, sadness and pain consuming you. He can’t help it, the touch you used to crave only makes you shiver and your lower lip tremble.

As days turn into weeks, Bucky needs you again. He needs to quench his thirst in you as well as as feel the softness of your soul again. He’s scared to force you again, as he watches you back away when he gets into bed.

“Baby?” He calls out, the silhouette of your body looking so delicious he just needed to feel it. You hum from where you laid, unaware to look at him over your shoulder as you curled yourself into a ball. “Please, come here with me.”

You did as you were told, rolling over and pulling yourself stiffly into his arms. He could feel your heartbeat picking up as he enveloped your body. You were frustratingly wary, as if the whole thing was just mechanic.

His hand lifted to rub your hip and you flinched.

“Please forgive me,” he whispered, something telling you it would just be easier to do so.

[cdroloisms]

A quick thing before I go to bed - today’s actually the anniversary of Dream finding Spirit on the DreamSMP!! I thought I’d honor our favorite horse with a super quick ficlet, but it’s angst, bc you know. It’s this blog, you should know what to expect /lh

Tws: animal death, grief, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, pandora’s vault/prison arc

Dream blinks, slowly, at the new presence in the room.

It takes a moment for his vision to clear - still hazy from the bright glare of the lava and tears that had gathered within them from the pain, his vision wavering dangerously between bright, dizzying shapes of color to black and back again. There’s something new and pale across from him, stark against the darkness of the obsidian, and he keeps his eyes stubbornly on it as he waits for them to function again.

The shape slowly resolves into something actually recognizable, and Dream freezes, right hand twitching forward.

“Spirit?”

He shakes his head - it must be a hallucination, a product of his frazzled mind after so many hours of pain and torment, but the horse stays, head tossing towards him, dark eyes turned to stare into his own. And- there- he feels a thread of something deeper, something Beyond the cell and this world and the Nether and even the End, Tethering him to the image of a horse in front of him, a familiar string that he can almost wrap his hand around and pull and oh-

“Hi, buddy.”

He feels himself smile despite himself, the cuts on his face stinging from the movement, and he drags himself forward towards the ghost of a horse sitting calmly on the other side of the cell. The movement is excruciating, leaves him sucking rattling breaths through his teeth as he crawls forward, inch by agonizing inch, but despite the screaming from his ribs and the painful shake to his lungs he drives himself forward.

Halfway across, Spirit bows their head, bending it down towards him, and they’re close enough to touch now, only inches away from his face. His hand stretches out almost of its own volition, hesitant, and he gasps as the tips of his fingers meet the soft, velvety surface of their nose.

Spirit doesn’t even flinch, letting him drag his bloodstained fingers over their face, nuzzling softly into his touch and blowing cold air into his palm. They’re cold - it shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. All of his memories of them had been warm, sun-stained, thick with the feeling of the wind’s fingers tangled in his hair and leaves and flowers bundled to his chest - there’s none of that, now, only the roaring fire of the lava at his side and the fire of the open wounds seared across his skin. He pulls himself forward, relishing the coolness of their presence - they’re cold, but this room has always been too hot, and the cold numbs his pain and settles into his burnt and blackened bones and it’s almost like comfort.

It takes another few minutes for him to drag himself by their side; he wraps his arms around their neck and collapses against the pale fur of their side, feeling its softness with calloused, scarred hands.

“Why are you here, bud?” He murmurs into their neck, feeling tears prick at his eyes, again, and telling himself it’s just from the pain. Spirit simply stares at him, dark eyes far too knowing; they’d never been one for staying in one place, matching his own restless wanderlust with their own, but they settle, here, movements slow as they let him simply breathe against the cool kindness of their body. His arms tighten fractionally around them, committing the slope of their neck, the sweep of their mane to memory; it’s been so long since he’s seen them, probably almost a year-

“Oh.”

He looks up; Spirit looks back, their eyes drooping and kind. He reaches a shaking hand to their face, carding his fingers through their mane as a tired laugh bubbles up from his throat.

“It’s- it’s been a year, hasn’t it?” He shakes his head, pressing his face against their fur, “Since I first found you. That’s why you’re here.”

Spirit snorts, head shaking slightly as their nostrils flare. It’s as much as an agreement as he can get - his vision blurs, and he closes his eyes, a dull splash of heat building up in the front of his skull.

“It- it’s been a year, huh?” He murmurs, and Spirit whinnies, low, soft. “I-”

A dark night, Sapnap riding them through the trees, the forest, yet uncleared, overridden by mobs. A skeleton’s arrow, flying through the branches and sliding through their ribs; their pale, shaking body sprawled among the leaf litter, Dream sitting by their side and smoothing his hands through their mane until the sun came up.

An enderchest opened, a pale square of leather pulled from within it - the last remaining remnants of a horse he loved, a horse he lost. Himself, stook upon the obsidian walls, mocking words settling under his skint, his hand, tight around the handle of his axe, words screamed and spat from his lungs, barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears.

“I failed you,” his voice trembles, and he hates himself for how weak it is. Spirit bows their head forward, their chest moving up and down with deep, gentle breaths, even in death. The tears that had been gathering in his eyes finally fall, his battered face stinging from the salt, and he feels his shoulders shake with soft, shuddering sobs as he holds them close again after so, so long.

“I’m sorry.”

[miss-melon]

Hiyaa may i request a scenario nagito with a reader who confesses during conversation and doesnt realize they did and just keep talking

Hi anon! This request is soooo cute! Of course I’ll write it for you!

REQUEST: Accidental Confession with Nagito

It was another day at school, another painfully boring yet overwhelming day. Your homework was piling up, your friends were hanging out without you, the school lunch sucked, and you had gotten yelled at by your teacher for no reason AGAIN. But, there was one good thing that came out of today, and that was that you had gotten paired up to work on a project with your long-time best friend and crush, Nagito Komaeda.

Nagito had been your ride or die for as long as you can remember, ever since you two were young kids. You two were also pretty different from one another. You could be rather impulsive and tended to act on your emotions. While Nagito was almost always thinking everything through before making a decision. More often than not, he was your voice of reason. Constantly having to remind you not to overwork yourself, or reminding you not to take too much to heart. He was honestly your rock.

You first started developing feelings for the boy during elementary school. He was all you really had, and whenever you needed help, he was the first person by your side. The first time you remember noticing your feelings towards Nagito was during gym class in third grade. The two of you were running for track and you tripped over your shoelace. You had scraped your knee pretty badly and it hurt quite a bit, so you sat there and cried. I mean, what else were you supposed to do? You were just a kid after all.

It was while you were crying that Nagito rushed over to help. “Oh Y/N! You’re hurt!” He exclaimed. The only response you could muster up was a few choked sobs followed by the continuous waterfall of tears pouring from your eyes. “Oh my, please don’t cry Y/N! It’ll be okay! I know this might seem difficult, but I know that someone as hopeful as you can overcome any amount of despair! Now c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse!” He helped you up and took you to the nurses office, it was that day that you developed a crush on Nagito Komaeda, your best friend.

But many years later, that crush developed into full on love. This guy meant everything to you. And now you were partnered up with him for a school project, the butterflies in your stomach were very intense. Nagito was reading a few news articles for research while you were writing down the most important things he found in the articles. You didn’t even notice that you had made several typos in your project, that is, until Nagito spoke up.

“Um... Y/N? Are you doing alright? That’s your fifth typo already.” Nagito asked sounding rather concerned. He always knew when something was up with you. “O-oh sorry Nagito... I’ve just been really stressed out lately.” You told him, trying to hide the obvious blush that was painted across your face. “What’s been causing you this kind of stress? I don’t know how much someone like me can help, but I’ll always be here to listen to you Y/N.” Nagito said sweetly. You began to rant to him about your day.

“Well for starters, I forgot to make my coffee this morning, none of my friends will talk to me anymore, the school lunch tasted like shit, Ms. Harris keeps yelling at me, I don’t know how or when I’ll ever confess my feelings towards you-” Nagito’s head rose slightly as you continued your rambling, he had lost focus of what you were talking about because he couldn’t believe what just happened. YOU just confessed to HIM? And you didn’t even seem to notice! You continued talking like nothing happened! “And to top it all off, I have 24 missing assignments for my classes.” You finished your rant, not realizing what you had just done.

“S-so Y/N... ahah... um...” Nagito for once was at a loss for words, to which you were confused. “What’s wrong Nagito?” You asked, genuinely having no clue what you just did. “Is it true Y/N? Do you actually have... feelings for me? Feelings that you haven’t confessed yet?” Nagito asked you with a look of confusion. Suddenly your face flashed a bright red color. You just realized what you’ve done. “AAAAHHH!!!! UM- WELL- Y’SEE- UM-” After about a minute of you stuttering while trying to come up with an excuse, you eventually let out a sigh and gave in.

“Y-yes Nagito... I-I really... REALLY like you... I have for a long time now...” You said with your head hung low. You two sat there in silence for a long time until you felt two arms wrap around your body. You looked up and saw that Nagito was hugging you. When he pulled away from the hug he put both hands on your shoulders and looked at you. “Well Y/N... I will never understand why someone as... beautiful and hopeful as you would develop feelings for someone as... worthless and hopeless as me... but I do reciprocate your feelings, I always have! For as long as I can remember, I’ve found you to be perfect in every way, the one true shining hope in this dull world. What I’m trying to say, Y/N is that... I-I love you...” Nagito said smiling.

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. Your lifelong crush and best friend loved... YOU? This almost felt too good to be true, like a fairytale moment of sorts. You were just so incredibly happy that the one person who could make you feel this way, felt the same way about you. You just couldn’t contain yourself. You pounced into Nagito’s lap and his reflexes caused him to catch you, he held you in his lap for a couple seconds before you gave Nagito a passionate kiss on the lips, a kiss that was returned with an intense amount of love and adoration. This was the beautiful start of your lifelong relationship with your best friend, Nagito Komaeda. A relationship born from a bond. A bond that was formed by hope.

THE END.

_______________________________________________

Thank you so much for this request! It was super fun to write! This turned out way longer than I intended it to be so I hope you liked it!

[heathersproship]

Amy word-vomits about her favorite ship

Have some headcanons for the twins! I love them so fucking much and they love each other so fucking much. and they're cute as fuck, fight me!

first of all, they're codependent as fuck

"I know my sister like I know my own mind // you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind"

they're both super smart but socially anxious with dips in depression, which only reinforces the idea the other is their only safe person to be around since their parents are distant

who's older? buddy, if you have to ask, you probably already know!

child Veronica is the biggest crybaby with severe separation anxiety and she will actively NOT participate if she can't be near her sister or hold her hand/touch her in some way; Janis does marginally better if it can't be helped (eg: if Veronica's sick and she's well enough to go to school) but she won't be as animated

child Janis will not hesitate to punch you in the face if you so much as look at her sister wrong

when Janis moved out of their shared bedroom as kids, Veronica spent their first night apart in the hall outside Janis's room sobbing but trying to be quiet. after a few days, the sleepovers began

they always share a bed. rooms don't matter. spooning positions change depending on how they're feeling

they shower together whenever they can, which is most of the time. saves water and they can help each other wash their backs and hair

if Veronica has plans with Martha and Betty, Janis will tag along too, smugly, after their mother tells Veronica to take her sister with her (and Veronica's secretly glad about it)

Janis gets jealous easily and lashes out; Veronica gets sad and internalizes everything

in case you couldn't figure it out, Janis is the dominant twin

they're both into calligraphy

crpytophasia as kids

they write all their stories and intimate notes in cipher. while Veronica writes as one does, left to right, Janis takes it a step further and writes, by the letter, right to left. to make it truly incomprehensible, sometimes she writes 3d versions of the ciphers. Veronica pretends she hates it but she really doesn't (she loves the challenge of translation and also gives Janis her own challenge by experimenting with her handwriting)

when the Regina thing in 8th grade happens, Veronica takes it upon herself to be the brave strong one since Janis was always protecting her. she also keeps Janis up to date with what she's learning no matter how dull, and accompanies her to therapy

during this time Janis doesn't like the role-reversal much but Veronica's so gentle and sweet and she's trying so hard Janis just sucks it up

their first kiss was when they were teens, after the Regina thing, when they were both questioning, and it's only after months of denial and trying to slowly distance from each other do they snap back together like magnets

Veronica writes love notes to Janis all the time; Janis writes them back. all in their code

the only people who know about them are Betty, Martha, Damian, and Karen. and they fully support them ;)

and now, some niche (agere) headcanons!

Veronica age regresses and Janis loves taking care of her

"my little crybaby (affectionate)"

Janis loves drawing things for her little girl to color, and Veronica loves to see what she'll come up with next. it's always a partner project

movie night date night is always chill, and Janis gets to hold Veronica during the sad or scary parts

sometimes Veronica gets shy and doesn't use her words, and Janis always teases her (eg: "Oh, you want me to drink it? Well, okay, if that's what you want..." she says when Veronica pushes her full bottle at her, knowing full well Veronica wants snuggles and to be fed). On bad days this makes Veronica cry, but most times she giggles

Veronica is always the little spoon when little. it makes sense!

separation anxiety goes up several notches when Veronica's little, and it's probably just as bad, if not worse than when they were kids. but Janis knows and kind of expects it, so she's very understanding about it. they establish firm boundaries, employ the usual methods (eg: she gives Veronica something of hers to take care of while they're apart), use reward systems, and practice with games so it gradually lessens

as much as she doesn't like to see Veronica upset, Janis can't deny she loves kissing her sister's damp cheeks and warm red lips, or running her fingers through Veronica's soft hair or patting her butt and kissing her forehead when Veronica shakily settles in her lap, grips her shirt, and starts calming down. And she also can't resist when Veronica makes grabby hands for her, which is why when she leaves (in practice or for real) she can't look behind her because Veronica always has her arms out reaching for her

Janis always lets little Veronica play with her hair, brushing and braiding and putting accessories in it. but no cutting or curling or straightening because Veronica might hurt herself

if Veronica knows Janis isn't feeling well enough to be her caregiver that day, she'll play big and take care of her the way Janis does for her (eg: she'll make food, but she'll serve it with her little utensils; she'll encourage Janis to use her words to voice her feelings and reward her with kisses and snuggles when she does; she'll read her stories from her picture books and tuck her in for a nap with a stuffie). Janis, while appreciative, makes sure her little girl isn't overexerting herself looking after her

god they're precious and I love them so much

[keepswingin]

I feel like the werewolves would be afraid of needles. Can you write something where one of them (Wyatt, Willa or Wynter) has to go to the doctor or get a check-up or something that involves them having to get a shot or something that involves needles? And the other two have to calm them down? I think it'd be super hilarious.

ANTI-MONSTER RULE NUMBER TWELVE You cannot, under any circumstances, miss mandatory appointments.

Wyatt stares at the notice for a long time; he wonders when their lives started to depend on scraps of ink stamped fresh onto crumpled paper.

He finds he can't pinpoint an exact moment.

"What's that?"

He flinches at the voice. Berates himself for it as he allows his claws to shred clean through the newly issued notice, tiny pieces of card stock fluttering to the ground as Willa comes to a stop beside him. He doesn't have to look over at her to know that's she's already angry, fingers squeezing tight into already scarred palms.

He lifts his gaze to the forest. It stretches farther than any of them could know, so many acres sitting unexplored and unmarked, waiting. Watching. He thinks that maybe they could run. Maybe they could actually make it away before they even realized they were gone. Maybe they could find a new den before this one was burned to the ground, maybe they could--

"You know we can't," she interrupts bluntly, more of a leader than a sister. "The pups wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of the pack's pace."

His exhale is sharp, exasperated. "We could carry them."

"We couldn't. Not with the ground you want to cover."

He blinks. Something hot begins to build within him, searing at his insides like skin to silver. She doesn't move to sit or readjust, instead continuing to stand beside him, distant like a shadow that couldn't quite reach, steady like the rock he rests on.

"We could leave them places, then. Scout ahead, come back, rise and repeat, until we're far enough that it's safe for them--"

"That's not you, Wyatt."

The fire within him roars as he shoots to his feet, whipping around so that he can face her. "Goddamn it, Willa!" he yells, loud enough that his voice bounces off the rocks jutting out around them, loud enough that he's sure the entire den has heard him. "We can't stay here! Don't you get it?"

His chest is heaving as the words that had been weighing him down finally escape. The burn inside eases, and it's easier to inhale, but exhaling is just as hard and Willa she's-she's just standing there, why is she just standing there--

"Wyatt," she says, softer than she should be. She's not supposed to be soft, she's barbed wire and sharp tongue. She's supposed to be everything he's not, not a shell of everything he's ever known.

He blinks. Her face wavers in and out of focus, like a camera lens readjusting. Her eyes are fearless, and then they are dull, and then they are empty. Her lips are curved, and then they are straightened, and then they are missing.

He blinks.

His breath leaves him in a rushing gasp as he finally sees her, sees her right here, now, twenty-four years into this forest instead of sixteen, and that fire inside of him extinguishes like it was never there at all.

Burns, never fully healed, litter what he can see of her arms, and nearly all of her body markings are gone, some skin torn from bone, some scratched over like pen to paper. Her neck is slit from one side to the other, cut and patched, cut and patched, cut and patched, the mark left stark against the color of her skin. Her cheek still holds the mark of an alpha, shaky lines atop marred skin, but he can still remember what she had said after they had given her back, lifeless body left in the middle of the forest without any warning after he had searched every creek and nook and cliff.

I-I can't, brother, she had whimpered, clawless fingers grasping at the furs of his vest, blood smearing in their wake. It had been the weakest he had ever seen her. I can't lead them anymore.

You can, he had said, voice far stronger than he had felt. We're gonna clean you up, I'll be right there the whole time, and then you can--

If I can't even protect myself, she had whispered, sob hitching at the back of her throat, how can I protect them?

"Stop doing that," he tells her, eyes flickering down to where blood slips down her wrists. "You're hurting yourself."

Willa looks down at her hands and then back at him, lips pressed in a firm line. Still far from who she used to be, but better as the days ticked by.

"They'll find us, brother," she says then, sure as he's ever heard her. Her right hand begins to tremble, one finger, and then two. "They have no plans to let us retire back into hiding. We're..."

She grabs her shaking hand with her other.

It still shakes underneath.

"We're theirs, now."

"No," he says, strong as stone. He takes a step toward her, pulls her hands into his, holds them carefully tight. Willa's eyes flicker with something he'd rather not know. "No. We'll never be."

He pulls her into a hug, drops her hands so he can wrap his arms around her shoulders, and tries to forget the shaky exhale she releases against him.

"What happens when they come for someone else?" she mutters against his neck, so quiet he can barely hear her.

"I'll stop them," he promises, something tight lodged in his throat as he says it. Willa is silent for a long moment, fingers curling around the soft fabric of his shirt.

"What about when they come for you?"

The den is dark against the curve of the midday sun, hiding away the countless lives within. The wolves within. The family within. Words are hard to find when there is no correct answer.

"They won't be able to catch me," he whispers, like it's a shared promise between them.

Willa pulls him closer, after.

He doesn't let go.

--

The needle stares at him for a long time; he wonders what sits waiting inside of it, grey liquid thick and unmoving as the doctor taps against the side of it, once, twice.

Willa sits to his right, stiff in her own chair, eyes stuck in a stare at the doctor. Wynter is on his other side, eyes flickering between the needle and him. They are both free to move, but fear stops them still. He is strapped to a medical chair, two wrists snapped against soft leather.

Just in case, the doctor had assured easily, tone smooth as silk, pulling tight on mud-brown restraints, you never know what could happen.

"Now then," the doctor says, smiling Wyatt's way as he sides over closer, resting one hand on Wyatt's forearm. He is an older man with a balding head and too easy of a smile. Wyatt thinks he fits perfectly for a job such as this one, because anyone who helped this town do such things was sure to be unhinged in their own special way. "I'll count to three and the needle will be in and out. Will we need any assistance today?"

Wyatt's eyes drift over to his sister's stony expression.

(He knows what hides behind it.)

"No," he whispers. The last thing he wanted was more men, men with guns or tasers or worse.

"Very well," the doctor replies as he angles the needle. "One, two--"

As soon as the needle enters his skin, Wyatt knows something is wrong. The liquid inside moves slow, far too slow, and his arm locks up as soon as it flows into his skin. The burn comes after, soft and then burning, burning, burning--

His whole world is on fire before he can utter a single word.

--

He's laying in the forest, grass peaking through his outstretched fingers. His entire body aches with a fire that will not go away, seeping into his bones like poison. His skin is hot, and something wet slips down his arm, dampening his fingers and sticking to his palm when he attempts to curl them.

There's a scuffle to his right.

He thinks that if he's going to die, at least it's in his home.

"Little brother," a voice breathes by his ear, arms struggling to pull him from the forest floor. "Wyatt I'm, I'm sorry I-" their voice catches on a sob he recognizes. "I couldn't-I--"

He doesn't think he can talk.

He does, anyway.

"W-What...what was it?" he ask her, voice barely a rasp. Words hurt, slithering their way right through the fire that engulfs him much like a struck match.

She's quiet for a long moment. He's pulled closer to a chest and he reaches up, hand caught by another and squeezed tight.

It hurts.

He doesn't say it aloud.

"Silver," his sister finally answers, voice hoarse. "When you didn't die they...they resorted to other measures."

He wants to laugh.

He does laugh, the sound disjointed and wheezing.

Skin torn from bone. Cuts. Burns. Skin torn from bone. Scars. Silver.

"We're...quite the p-pair. Aren't we?"

He wants Willa to laugh.

She doesn't.

[a-monsters-love]

Hi!! I know this is super dramatic but I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some ✨angst✨ Maybe Todoroki, Hawks, Bakugo Midoriya (take your pick if that’s too many) reacting to their s/o taking a particularly bad hit for them? Enough to knock them out of a fight. If you needed an idea for a quirk, maybe a short burst teleportation quirk? Just an idea! Thanks for taking the time to read this! 🖤

Oh man, I love drama but let’s see if I know how to write angst, and I LOVE THAT QUIRK IDEA. I had a similar idea for a fic that’s been pinned until I get ✨inspiration✨ aND HERE WE ARE. Also thank you so much for the request and for being so polite 💛

The idea I had was inspired by Vanellope von Schweetz from Wreck-It-Ralph, like a glitch quirk. I’m gonna make the 1-A boys pro hero’s for this because it’s so much more work to do it while they’re still in school, I’m cutting Izuku cause I can’t see anything but crying or our feral child in the latest update and oh man it hurts too much.

These are a fraction shorter than I would’ve liked them to be however i wrote them on my phone so they looked longer lmao

——————

[Master List]

Todoroki Shoto:

Hours. It’s been hours since this fight had begun, or so it felt like. You were panting heavily, Shoto watched you stand your ground firmly. You took a deep meditative breath, you smiled softly at him and glitched. You appeared on a window ledge behind the steel villain and went in to distract him while Shoto went to work. He looked around and noticed you were cornering the villain where less civilians were around. The villain turned as if to attack you but made a quick action to attack Shoto off guard, you glitched towards your husband to stop the steel needles from impacting him. “(Y/N)!” He screamed, your hand was so close but the world went black.

Shoto watched as several thick steel needles pierced through your body, you smiled softly at him and you eyes closed before you hit the ground. Tears sizzled before they could run down his cheeks, he saw red and froze the villain quickly. He didn’t care about the repercussions, he didn’t care what would happen, all he wanted was for you to be alive at the end of the day.

He sat there with you in his arms as blood pooled around the two of you staining your respective uniforms. A medic removed you from his arms and he followed silently. He didn’t say anything in the ambulance, he didn’t say anything while you were in surgery, he didn’t say anything as you were transferred to a hospital room.

Days that passed turned into weeks before you opened your eyes, when you did you see his bi-colored hair as he slept snuggled into your arm leaned onto your hospital bed. You smiled softly and pet his hair with you opposing hand, a deep breath leaves you. Shoto stirs and rubs his eyes as he sits up, his left side lights aflame as his emotions run wild. “Hey.” You said, your voice was scratchy and muffled from the oxygen mask.

“Hey.” His voice shook as sat up, he clutched your hand in his and squeezed it lightly. “(Y/N)-  I- you can’t…” His words hitched in his throat.

You sighed and smiled softly again, “I’m sorry, Sho.” Tears left your eyes, you couldn’t imagine how he must feel. “My body just-“ Moved on its own, you chuckled softly at the thought.

He chuckled getting the point of what you were going to say, he kissed your forehead softly. “Try not to do that again…” He nearly whispered the words, you could felt him shaking. You couldn’t promise you wouldn’t do it again, but you could promise to try.

Takami Keigo (Hawks):

You didn’t know how he could flirt while fighting, at first sure it was cute and sure you love him but, “Hawks! Is this really the time?” You tried not to hiss at him blushing in embarrassment and frustration.

He gave his award winning smile, “Of course, Angel! How else am I supposed to keep up morale?” You snorted at his comment and rolled your eyes.

“Focus, Birdy.” You jumped out of the way before colliding with cement being thrown at you. You glitched towards the villain before he could touch the ground again, as soon as you reformed in front of him your stomach felt hot. You coughed up blood and looked down. You materialized into the villains knife, looking back at your boyfriend a tear streamed down your cheek. “Focus…” Your voice was almost a whisper as your body fell towards the earth.

“DOVE!” His cry was almost a screech. Keigo’s eyes narrowed as he sent the last of his feathers towards you to soften your landing. “THAT’S ENOUGH.” He charged towards the villain but your words echoed in his mind ‘focus’. Hawks retrieved his longest feathers that now dripped with your blood, he saw red but kept hearing your words. He made quick work incapacitating the villain before rushing to find you. You’d already been taken into an ambulance and ushered off to the emergency room.

Keigo paced enough to wear a trench into the ground while you were in surgery. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the surgery sign turned off. He was told to rest by a nurse but refused until he saw you.

You slept for a few days before waking up, when you did he was staring at you wide eyed. He was surprised to see you awake but gods was he relieved. He wore what one might consider pajamas, his sweatpants were pulled up to his knees, his shirt and sweater were disheveled. He had dark heavy bags under his eyes the indicated he wasn’t handling you being out very well. “Angel..” He spoke softly.

You smiled and winced painfully as you adjusted, Keigo stood quickly to help you adjust the lift in the bed. “Hey Birdy..” You coughed out, “You look like hell.”

He rubbed his face and snorted, “Dove. Is this really the time?” He was grateful you could make jokes even while on deaths doorsteps.

You smirked, “How else am I supposed to keep up the morale?” You teased, quoting his comment the day of the fight. You both chuckled softly before silent set in. “I’m sorry Kei, I should’ve been paying more attention.” Your hand grazed over your newest scar.

Keigo goes to say something with a smile but it quickly drops, he looks at his  hands as they shake. “I… I don’t know what I would’ve done with out you…” He glances up at you with misty eyes. “Don’t scare me like that, (Y/N)…”

Guilt sets in your stomach as tears well in your own eyes, “I didn’t mean to-“ You reached out your arms and he climbed into the hospital bed beside you. You pet his hair until he fell asleep, you both knew this was part of being a hero but this was the last thing you wanted.

Bakugo Katsuki:

Just once, just once you’d like to have a normal date with your boyfriend. Sure, you’re both hero’s and sure, it’s not like villains had a schedule you could follow and plan around. Fuck, just once you’d love if King Murder Explosion himself would just let other hero’s handle things themselves.

You glitched around the street collecting and moving civilians, “Ground Zero, the western street is clear!” You shout up to him.

A smirk grows on his lips as he follows your lead, blasting the villain to the street you cleared. You start clearing the surrounding streets as you knew how your boyfriend was, blasty boi couldn’t avoid making a bigger mess than needed. “COME ON! SCARED?” He chided with the villain, edging him on.

The oversized criminal threw an empty car towards Katsuki who blasted it to the ground. Things being thrown and blasted back and fourth continued for a moment when you heard a cry for help. A child, you thought. You look back at the two fighting and glitched towards the sound, you teleported between rubble slowly finding your way to them. “Hey… it’s gonna be alright.” You said in a hushed toned as you found their little hand, glitching them into your arms. “Hey- Hi kiddo, I’m here now.” You pet their hair as the sobbed silently, trekking back to safety.

You could only glitch one person at a time safely, the last thing you needed was to glitch a possibly injured child into having a seizure. “(Y/N)!” You heard Katsuki shout, “LOOK OUT!!” He howled, you looked back too slow and glitched the child to safety.

By the time your quirk confirmed they had materialized safely you were struck in the head with a large chunk on concrete. Everything was dizzying and then black, “Suki..” You mumbled as you hit the ground.

The next explosion was loud, aggressive. Katsuki hadn’t seen that much rage since high school. After everything that happened and then meeting you, you the woman he wanted to marry, gods he saw red. He debilitated the villain in a series of large blasts, bellowing for medics who arrived at the scene. He screamed at them to hurry up and help you, screamed until he was sure it was burned in their brains before fizzling.

The world had never seemed so silent, everything ached. Everything was dull and lifeless as he waited for you to wake up. They claimed you’d be fine, Recovery Girl had come to see you. Now was just a waiting game, Katauki’s patience was thin but he’d wait for you for the rest of his life.

You woke that evening to quiet bickering, you can hear Katsuki on the phone. You assumed it was Kirishima, you smirked thinking about how much your boyfriend has calmed down in the passed years. “No, I couldn’t ask her! You really think I had the time? We’re in the fuCKING HOSPITAL!” He hissed.

You hummed, “..Suki?” You ask, he disconnects the line as soon as he heard your voice and walks over to your bed.

“Why didn’t you teleport to safety?” He jeered.

You sigh and look at the ceiling, “I had a child with me, I couldn’t.” You rubbed your eyes and looked at him. His gaze softened and he sat down.

He sighed and pressed his face into both of his palms, “Today was supposed to be fucking special, I always fuck this shit up.” You hummed in curiosity, a blush crept up his ears.

“Everyday is special with you, Suki. Stop being so hard on yourself.” You chuckle softly.

He looks up and rests his chin on one of his hands, the other reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small velvety box, “That’s not what I meant...” He huffed and handed you the box.

You sat up awkwardly and took the box, opening it to see a ring set. It was simple but it fit the two of you, tears bubbles up in your eyes. “Katsuki-“ Your voice hitched in your throat and he slouched back in his seat while ruffling his hair. “Of course, oh my god-“ The two of you chuckled and you reached out for him to come closer, you pressed your lips to his for a chaste kiss. “So, who’s idea was it to make you do all the extra frivolousness?” You snort at him and he shot up.

He growled slightly ruffling his hair aggressively, “I KNEW YOU DIDN’T NEED ALL THAT SHIT.” You burst into laughter and groaned at the ache in your head, maybe you could get a day from him to go on a date.

[kapicat]

The slot in the door opened, just enough for three ultra balls to roll in. The mew on the opposite side of the concrete room focused, trying to use their psychic powers to push the balls back. One went back, but then the slot closed. Mew's ears drooped as the balls they were left holding telekinetically opened.

From the balls came two sneasels. The mew cowered in the corner, seeing the one with a cloth bag in his claws. Mew sucked in a deep breath of air, just for it to get knocked out of their chest by the bag-holding sneasel's Sucker Punch. Mew wheezed, letting out a smaller Hyper Voice cry than they had wanted. The shockwave didn't go far, only destroying the illusion of the bag-holding sneasel. In sneasel's place was a toothy-grinned Zoroark.

Mew's ears pinned down to their skull. They had hoped that the ball they pushed back was the one with the red-maned Pokemon. A whimper escaped their throat as the remaining sneasel approached from behind. The sound was cut off by the sound of claws smacking flesh, a super effective Throat Chop that echoed in the concrete room. Mew collapsed on the ground, silently wheezing for air as they were hit from behind by a Skitter Smack. Forced forwards, Mew fell right into a dual Beat-up from the sneasel. A third attack was cut off by the bag being pulled over their head.

Mew hated how the bag was not the worst part of it. It was pulled down to their waist, where they felt the two sets of drawstrings pulled tight. The material was so thick, they couldn’t see out of it. The bag was already starting to feel so warm, the material sticking to Mew’s face as they breathed in and out. The material was scratchy, Mew hated it when the bag was turned so the drawstrings were at their sides. They knew that the next thing to happen was a tight yank, one so hard that it knocked Mew down, landing face-first into the concrete floor. A soundless scream passed through Mew’s throat as they were grabbed by their feet and tail, yanked and dragged. They could feel all the bumps in the floor with their face, the sharp edges dulled by the scratchy material. Everything hurts.

A sharp corner was taken, knocking Mew’s head against it. At this point, they were shaking, praying for an end. Their tail was dropped. A sharp fear spiked in Mew’s body. They knew what was going to happen. It was the thing they hated the most. No, no, they didn’t want it. They inhaled as much air as their lungs could take. The sharp pain in their back was unceremonious, one that caused them to scream into the bag despite the muffling and the pain from the throat chop. The more they screamed though, the more it hurt, it wiggled and tore, they could feel their blood seeping out around where the pain came from.

“Fucking hell, hold still! Seymore, get your audino here, it’s wiggling the needle.”

“If your pokemon put it out quickly like they were supposed to, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Shut up and get the damn-”

Mew kept screaming. It hurt but it drowned out the voices. They hated the voices the most of all. The voices were rougher than the bag, loud and scratchy. And always, always when they started yelling like this, they put their hands on mew, yanking their tail, punching the bag and their head, putting hands on Mew’s throat until Mew couldn’t scream anymore. It was actually nice when Mew felt everything fade. Nothing hurts anymore.

Until they wake up again. Mew was in the concrete room again. They curled up tightly, shaking as they watched the lone purple audino use heal pulse on them. Heal pulse made things hurt less, but it never helped with how dizzy Mew felt. Audino never hurt them.

<<You should try to get away!>> Audino finally spoke up. She never spoke before when she was sent in to heal Mew. Mew weakly lifted their ears. <<Do you know why they do this to you?>>

Mew weakly shook their head. All they remember of their life before this was being chased in a forest. A bright orange leaf hit them in the face before they flew into a branch. That was the first of everything hurting.

<<People say that you’re the source of power, that you can do anything.>> Audino lifted Mew’s head, causing them to hiss. Their neck was still hurting from the throat chop. <<You can even look like me!>>

What? Mew blinked. They tilted their head. You can look like me! How could they do that? And would it work. They looked at audino’s eyes. Her eyes were blue, just like theirs. But their fur was different. Hers was short, like mew’s, but the colors were different. Her front was tan, the rest was purple. And the ears were far different. Could they really do that? Mew squeezed their eyes shut. They had to! They wanted out! They wanted everything to stop hurting! They didn’t want to be a source of power, nothing! They just wanted to be free!

They were changing. Their feet felt different, and so did their tail. There was more weight on their head, but it wasn’t off-putting. Mew opened their eyes. Audino held out a hand to help them up. <<You did it! Look at yourself!>>

Mew looked down at their hand. It didn’t look like their hand. It was small still, but it looked just like Audino’s, with the same sheen to the short fur. Mew turned around, trying to look at their tail. It was the short little fluffy nub that Audino had. The corners of Mew’s lips started to lift. Could they get out like this?

The banging on the door made the corners of Mew’s mouth drop. “Audino, hurry up! We’re going to the market!” The voice was still horrible, it hurt more with Audino’s ears.

Audino pushed Mew towards the door. <<Go, they won’t realize it’s you! When they get out of the car, run away!>> She scampered back to the far side of the dark concrete room, leaving Mew by the door. It opened. The rough hand of a man who smelled like smoke, tar, and sweat grabbed Mew by one of the ears, yanking them out of the room, with the door loudly slamming shut. No wonder Audino didn’t like them.

Mew felt like they were shaking when they saw the two other pokemon by the humans. Sneasel waved their claws, snickering. Another one was sitting, arms crossed. Mew guessed that this was the Zoroark, he never seemed to tease or taunt like the other dark-type.

“Come on, Audino, Zoroark, both of you carry a bag.”

Oh, right! Mew looked at the bags that the human talked about. The other human had picked up one, pulling the strap over their head. Mew did the same with one of the remaining bags. “Heh, look at that, your Audino is mimicking me.”

The first man rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, hurry up, Zoroark!”

It was so hard for Mew to keep from shaking. Audino’s plan was working! The humans were too busy talking about who to meet up with, where they had to go, and other things to notice them.

They figured that the “car” was the square-ish thing that one human opened the back of. Zoroark, still in his illusion, threw his bag in before hopping in. There were too many eyes now. The sneasel was still out, and the one human still had three more pokeballs on his belt. They couldn’t run yet. Audino said to do it when they got out, right? Mew just did the same as Zoroark, slinging the bag just inside the carpet. Zoroark yanked it back further inside as Mew climbed in. Oh, it would be so much easier if they weren’t Audino. Mew sat near the big window near where they climbed in. Finally, Sneasel hopped in, dashing to sit on top of the bags.

<<They’ll get mad at you for sitting there,>> Zoroark rebuked. Sneasel just shrugged, then stuck his tongue out at the other pokemon. Growling in response, Zoroark raised up a claw.

“‘Ey! No fighting back there!”

The car ride reminded Mew of being dragged in the halls. Even though they could stand up to see out the windows, they didn’t want to. Every bump made them pop up to see a little bit, like a wall covered in colors, a giant pine tree like what they ran into long, long ago, or a building with shiny gold on each corner.

Finally, it stopped. Mew couldn’t keep it in anymore. They felt so sick, so anxious. If they didn’t go now, they were sure that they would never get out. And they would hurt all over, all over again. They looked at the back door, the one that would lift up. The human messed around with it, before pulling it up. The human’s face twisted with surprise.

“What the-”

Mew shot out. They didn’t care they didn’t look like Audino anymore. They just had to run, no, they had to fly! They had to get out! Behind them, they could hear the humans yelling, barking at the pokemon to chase them. Mew bumped into another human, a lady who shrieked so loud and high, it hurt Mew’s ears. There were more people ahead, some of who Mew ran into. They had to get away from all of these people, the screaming hurt their ears. There was a place between two tall buildings that they ducked into, tumbling head first into a puddle. Their fur was wet, they still hurt, it was so dark. They squeezed their eyes shut as they crawled across the rough road to get behind a dumpster. It would be safer inside, but Mew was so tired. They felt so dizzy again, their heart was pounding.

A quiet sob left their lips. They were so scared. The humans would find them again. They humans would stick the needles in them again, maybe even use razors on Mew’s fur and ears like they threatened so many times when Mew screamed in pain. Mew was going to hurt so much more. All they wanted to do was cry.

All of a sudden, there was a hand. It was bony, not fat or muscley like the other humans’s. It didn’t grip Mew’s shoulder, just resting there. “Shh. They’ll hear you if you cry.” Mew hiccupped, turning to look where the hand came from. There was a human under blanket, someone they didn’t see there before. The man’s blanket was lifted up by the edge of a staff that had three blue gems on it. “Calm down, think of a flowing river.”

Mew whimpered. The human sounded kind and gentle, just like Audino. Mew closed their eyes, trying to think of it. The hand lifted from their shoulder. It was easier to breathe, easier to think of the waters.

The waters rippling, bubbling in a quiet forest. Mew imagined the cries of Ninjask in the trees above, while magikarp splashed in the waters. Joining in the ninjask were the cries of tympoles who washed ashore in the muddy banks. Sometimes a leaf fell in the water, where it was gobbled up by a hungry feebas.

“That’s it. They’re gone now.”

Mew opened their eyes, now looking into those of the man. Just like Audino, his eyes were bright blue, like the sky, and his hair was light purple. The outfit he wore was rather nice, unlike the other humans, but it had a lot of tears and holes in it. The man’s eyes looked at mew not as hungrily or angrily like the others, it was strange. It almost looked like a reflection of what mew felt, scared, tired, and worried. “You need to get some treatment.” He pursed his lips and his eyes moved so as to not meet Mew’s. He was worried about other things. “You can’t fly if you transform into me, can you?”

Mew shook their head no. The man sighed heavily. Slowly, he placed his hand on Mew’s back, guiding them to the entrance to the alley. “Look over there.” Mew had to squint their eyes to see, but far in the distance, they could see the big, ornate building they saw earlier, with gold on the eaves and the sides. “That’s the temple there. The priestess there will take care of you. I know you’ll be safe there. I have to hide here myself for a little longer. Just fly as fast as you can.”

Mew looked back up at the man. He wasn’t going to chase them there? Mew took a deep breath, they had nothing else to go on. They took off, flying across the street, before going higher.

“Remember the river!”

The world blurred as Mew flew. Their heart raced, pulsing as they passed building after building after building. Could they? Could they get away? It felt like the golden temple was so far away still. Among the busy cacophony of smells, a woody smell seemed to get stronger as they flew closer.

Finally, the golden eaves were close, just past a a climbing set of stairs, above which Mew continued flying. Behind them, they could hear a ruckus, people yelling at them, for them, with screaming and angry shouts mixed in. The noises seemed to be further behind. A door opened at the front of the temple. That was where they should go! Mew pushed themself faster, trying to get inside, away from the noise, towards the woody scent.

They crashed into the ground. There was more screaming, before something hit Mew in the head.

[wreckofawriter]

Redbull

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, a complete crack fic.

Song to Set the Vibe: Break Shit ~ Jasiah

Request: Reader gets extra homework from Snape and drinks redbull to finish it, she then freaks out becaue of overintake of caffeine

A/n: this is a crack fic plain and simple, kinda fun to write, I used it as an excuse to bash Snape and Pansy. It's not edited so ignore spelling and grammar(Ps I'm in love with Shigaraki Tomura so if anyone can help me that would be great)

    You rolled your eyes aimlessly flipping through your potions textbook in hopes to find something worth your time inside of it. You found nothing but continued to scan the pages, thoughts wandering to random topics. You groaned wondering if you could catch Harry’s attention from across the room. You cursed Snape for separating you, now you were stuck next to Pansy Perkins, someone you would sooner pitch from the autonomy tower than have a civilized conversation with, although you doubted she was able to have such things. You let out another loud sigh as your stares into your boyfriend’s head gave you no reaction. 

Pansy turned, glaring. You stuck your tongue out at her and she scoffed turning away. 

    “You’re disgustingly childish.” she spat inching her seat away from you. 

    “At least I’m not in love with a boy who finds me annoying and borderline repulsive.” You shot back. 

    She scowled back at you, “Shut your filthy mouth, you know nothing about me.”

    “I know you’re an uppity bitch.” You shrugged back grinning. 

    She let out a high pitched shriek as you struggled to keep in giggles. Eyes snapped toward your table and you looked towards your desk-mate pretending to be shocked by her outburst. 

    “Ms. Perkinson, is everything alright?” Snape was clearly uninterested in her answer. 

    For a second you were sure she would snitch on you but she decided to keep her dignity intact and shook her head. 

    You snickered, waving to Harry who rolled his eyes playfully, a small grin on his face. 

    As Snape went back to his lesson you smirked at the red-faced girl, “Wow Perkionson you truly decided to keep your pride on that one didn’t you?” 

    She responded with nothing no longer playing along. 

    “That’s something I would have done, you know us prideful Gryffindors. I suppose you were placed in the wrong house.” You continued to bait the girl. 

    She scoffed again, “I was put in the right house, thank you very much.” 

    “Oh sure, you were.” You bit your lip in thought before an idea revealed itself. “Oh my Godric, Draco is totally staring at you.” You gasped in mock surprise. 

    She snapped to attention spinning around to look where the blonde was seated only to find him asleep at his desk. You laughed quietly as she spun around to glare at you again. 

    “I’m only kidding of course,” You chuckled, “I’m sure he would rather stare at a troll’s ass than you, I know I sure would.” 

    Her cheeks blossomed with red anger, her eyes narrowing to slits as you held back barking laughter. “Shut up.” Her voice was shaky with fury. 

    “Ooo, looks like I’ve struck a nerve.” You jeered happily. “ ‘fried Darcy is never gonna love your little pug face?” 

    Apparently you took it too far because the girl leapt to her feet swinging her wand at you, “Flipendo!”

    You flipped straight off your chair and was flung into the desk next to you, a splintering pain shooting through your back. You didn’t let it show laughing as you stood “What?! Can’t take the truth pug-face?” You snatched your wand from your robes, “Tentaclifors!” 

    Pansy’s head was replaced by a large grey tentacle in seconds, “At least now you’ll look better!” You barked in a wide grin. Laughter and shouts echoed around you but your joy was cut in one swift flash. 

    “Y/l/n!” 

    You turned to see your professor, his anger quite evident amongst his dull features. 

    “Ms. Greengrass, please escort Ms. Perkinson to the hospital wing.” He snarled as you bit back a giggle. 

    “Since you seem to find dueling with a classmate while I’m teaching so amusing, y/l/n, I expect six pages on the essay due tonight instead of two.” He snapped. 

    “But she fired first!” You defended.

    “I simply do not care.” He responded, “I want six pages.” 

    You glared at the man mumbling some unpleasant words under your breath before taking your seat again. At least you only had ten minutes of class left. 

    Saying you liked to procrastinate would be an understatement. You were wildly in love with procrastination. You were an absolute expert at finding anything but your work to do. You shoved the essays and worksheets to the back of your mind and instead helped the twins with a prank or read a new book. You could close off the bad thoughts of school work like a pro, even Hermionie’s nagging couldn’t get you to work until the sunlight had faded and the stars were visible in the sky. 

    You had once again followed through on your usual routine and now at ten at night you were finally beginning to start your hours of work. 

    You groaned, “How can our professors be so cruel? This is a wildly unfair amount of work.”

    Hermione rolled her eyes, “Maybe if you had gotten started on it right away then you wouldn’t be so stressed right now.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled. 

    Harry who sat beside you, his head on your shoulder, arm around your waist peered at the textbooks you had placed in front of you. “Don’t you have that essay from Snape too?” 

    You whimpered, the sound of a wounded animal, “I totally forgot about that.” You buried your head into the dark-haired boy’s chest, “I’m so fucked.” 

    He chuckled earning a glare from you as you pouted up at him, “Sorry,” he murmured, “You’re just so cute.” 

    Ron groaned, “Can you not do that in front of me?” 

    Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t be jealous Ron, green is not a good color on you.” 

    “I am not jealous.” He scoffed. 

    “Whatever,” you whined, “Someone help me. I’m gonna pass out in like an hour.”

    “That’s your own fault.” Hermione pointed out, you ignored her picking up your transfiguration notes and beginning to scribble down answers. 

    Three hours later you were completely exhausted. Both Hermione and Ron had retired to their beds. Harry was beside you struggling to stay awake as he poured over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paragraph. Your eyelids felt too heavy and your mind was fogged over, memories smeared in the mud of fatigue. You were at your breaking point. 

    “I haven’t even started that stupid essay.” You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears. You hiccuped choking back sobs, “I can’t do this.” 

    Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards you. He sat next to you holding open his arms as you buried yourself into his embrace. You let yourself go, tears spilling down your cheeks onto the boy’s shoulder. 

    “Y/n/n.” He whispered causing you to look up at him. He cupped your head in his hands using his thumbs to wipe your tears, their cold temperature feeling refreshing against your hot sticky skin. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m gonna get you an energy drink and you're going to be just fine. I swear.” 

    “Energy drink?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

    He nodded, “I’ve got a whole bunch of them up in my room so I can stay up.” 

    “Okay.” You mumbled leaning into his touch which was so cruelly torn away from you. 

    “I’ll be right back.”

    Harry stumbled back down the stairs with a brightly colored box a few minutes later. You investigated one of the cans he had given you and frowned.

    “Redbull?” 

    He nodded, “Yeah muggles drink the stuff all the time, it's like super-powered coffee.” You shrugged, cracking open the can to a small fizz, “Careful it tastes like shit.” 

    You took a large swig anyway cringing at the taste but ignoring it. 

    You heard the hiss of carbonation and glanced over at Harry who was about to take a sip of the liquid. “Harry, go to bed, I’ll finish this myself.” 

    He glanced hazily at you, “Are you sure?” 

    You nodded, taking the drink from him, “I’ll be fine.” 

    “Okay.” He spoke hesitantly standing, “Love you y/n/n.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

    “Love you too.” You responded “Goodnight.” 

    He disappeared upstairs and you took another sip. 

    Harry awoke the next morning and clambered down the dormitory steps to find you pacing and what seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He scrunched his brow and continued across the room looking down when he heard a loud clang and felt something bounce off his shoe. It turned out to be a can that was sent rolling across the carpeted room knocking into three others on the way. 

You had now noticed the boy’s arrival and turned to greet him, “Harry!” You yelled a bit too loudly, “Thank Godric you’re up! I’ve been waiting for ages.” You scampered across the room laughing a bit. Harry noticed the almost hazy look in your eyes immediately, dark circles also accompanied them. 

“Y/n how long have you been up?” He hesitantly asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. 

You glanced down at your watch and did a bit of math, “26 hours give or take.” You were bouncing on your heels. 

Harry’s eyes widened, “You didn’t sleep at all?” 

“Couldn’t, that shit really works man,” You spoke too quickly, “Like really works” 

“Exactly how much did you have?” He wondered in part amazement part fear. 

“Umm like all of it.” You responded as you walked away from him and began to pack up your stuff in a rushed manner. 

“All of it?!” Harry choked out his eyes glancing around the room finding far too many can littering the floor.

You nodded, “Yep, yeppers, sure did. In fact, do you have any more? I think I might need to ride this high for a few more hours.” 

“Y/n, I’m not giving you anymore that is extremely unhealthy,” Harry said, watching as desperation filled your eyes only to be replaced by determination. 

You sprinted towards his stairs, tripping on one but standing before you could even feel the bruise begin to form on your knee. 

“Y/n/n what are you doing?” Harry called after you, “Hey get down here!” 

By the time Harry managed to make it up the stairs you had already pulled another box of the drinks from under his bed, ripped it open and was drinking a can. Ron who was shirtless apparently changing stared at you in horror. 

“The hell y/n!” 

You laughed, “Bug off Ron.” Your voice was so rushed it was almost inaudible. You then ran from the room dodging Harry and stumbling back down the stairs. Harry chased after you frantically. “Y/n!” 

You laughed again, “Let’s head to breakfast Harry!” You then skipped out of the portrait hole. 

By the time potions rolled around you had finished off almost all of the cans in the new box you had stolen before Harry managed to snag it from you. You were still hours from crashing and insisted on running on your good feeling. Literally. 

You sprinted through the halls not much caring about the students and teachers you bumped into. You ran straight through Nearly Headless Nick and shrieked at the icy temperature you plunged into but kept running. You reached the dungeons in record time before running into Malfoy who cussed at you. 

You turned to face him in a whirlwind, “You know Draco, I think I’m quite a nice person but you make me just want to break your nose.” You said it so matter-of-factly his eyes went wide and you were gone before he could answer. 

You made it to the potions room and burst inside Harry wheezed for breath at the door deciding he needed to work out more. 

“Snape!” You called loudly plopping onto your desk and removing your papers, scrawled in messy handwriting. 

“It’s Professor Snape.” He corrected you in a snarl. 

You blinked owlishly at him tilting your head to the side, “But I’m not a professor.” 

Snape frowned, dropping his mouth to say something but before he could, you lunged at him, shoving your homework into his hands and laughing wildly as he stumbled backward. 

“Y/l/n what on earth is wrong with you?” He spat. 

You shrugged, “Redbull.” 

“What is a Red Bull?” he scoffed. 

“A potion.” You responded and Harry snorted, “You haven’t heard of it? It's something muggles made, it helps keep you awake when your dickwad of a teacher gives you extra homework.” 

Snape’s face flashed, red anger crawling onto his pale visage, “10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher.” 

You snickered, “Make it twenty you greasy hairball.” 

He did. 

Pansy found sitting next to you extremely difficult, you continued to pick at your desk, leg bouncing absentmindedly as you hummed a song. 

“Have you gone insane y/l/n?” she asked in a hushed whisper refusing to meet your eye after yesterday’s duel. 

“Yes.” you confirmed loudly, “I was forced to look at you.” Snickers and laughs echoed around you and you smiled smugly. “I can’t even imagine what it's like for poor Malfoy when you shove yourself into his face every hour. No wonder he constantly looks like he has a broom handle shoved up his ass.” 

This caused Seamus who sat a few seats from you to laugh so hard his eyes began to water as his deskmate Dean chuckled helplessly. 

“Y/l/n!” Snape hissed, “Do you think this is a comedy club?”

“Considering you’re the one in charge it should be.” You answered. “But you aren’t very funny, so maybe not.” 

Seamus howled slamming his hand on his desk as Ron damn near fell out of his chair. Gryffindor lost more points and Harry decided to never give you an energy drink ever again. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[shattered-mirror-fanfic]

Chapter 2 is finally out! I’ll try not to take as long with chapter 3!

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32206135/chapters/80533708#workskin

Chapter text below th cut for people who don’t use Ao3:

It was cold...too cold. Darkness was everywhere, he looked down seeing blood smeared on his jacket. He didn’t like these colors, they were violent ones...wait what had happened? It was all coming back, all of it in slow motion. His ears were ringing as a gunshot played over and over in his mind. Screaming, crying, blood, pain...it always was his unwanted home. 

~~~

Right Hand Man woke up in a cold sweat, had it all been a dream? No, it was real, he wasn’t home. He sat up and looked around at the tent he had woken up in, seeing no one else. Right pulled out his phone (which he noted had a new crack across the top) and checked the time. 11:47. He had never woken up this late, especially when there was something big happening. “Oh fuck me with a metal pipe right up the arse.” He mumbled to himself while sliding off his bed and putting on his boots which had been left beside it. Rustling came from outside and as the australian cocked his head to pear at the source of the noise. Ellie walked in notably with her hair in a low ponytail and without her hat.

"Hey boss, glad you're awake. You completely fainted yesterday after, y'know..." She commented.

“Yeah...um, can I ask wot happened while I was out?” Right asked in response.

“Oh yeah, it was still pretty intense....” 

The events of the previous night had started with a strong wind, and ended with a hurricane. Once the government had fled, everything broke down. Henry had immediately darted out, followed by Alphys, Asgore and Frisk. Everyone was panicking. But Right Hand Man...he was silent, cradling Reginald’s newly deceased body in his arms. Have you ever seen a grown man cry? It’s depressing, even more so when it’s a 6’5” australian man with barely anything to lose. Except he just lost the one thing he could lose. Right was trembling for the first time in his life since he was a young lad, tears were rushing down his face as he pulled his best friend closer. He felt the brunette in his arms feel lighter and he cracked his blurred eyes open enough to see Reginald start to fade. Right sobbed more, quietly sputtering out “no”s, all while the teal soul was cracking away, little chips flying off into the wind before dulling and fading. The sun had set, the heart stopped beating. It was all dark, and Right collapsed.

The red-headed woman briefed her boss on everything before addressing which of the tents set up was where Reginald’s broken soul was located.

“Wait, so you’re telling me he's alive?!” Right asked loudly.

“Well, no, the doc just said she had this tank thing that can preserve human souls so she thought it may even work with the chief's soul.” Ellie responded. “Anyways, the doc and Ms. Toriel said they’ll try their best to use healing magic to repair him but it probably won’t work.”

“Hold on, who’s this Toriel lady?”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t get to meet the other monsters yesterday, Ms. Toriel is Asgore’s ex-wife, she’s super nice and patched me up since I got a cut on my arm.” 

“Huh, guess I missed a lot…”

“Yeah, here, if you wanna I can introduce you to everyone, how does that sound?”

“Sure but, can we check on Reg first?”

“Yeah, but how come, he’s just a soul right now?”

“I miss him…”

~~~

Frisk and Henry decided that staying around the makeshift camp was too stuffy, so they headed into town. It wasn’t that bad of a walk terrain wise, but it was still pretty long. Henry decided that maybe being dressed like a wanted criminal wasn’t a good idea, so he had kept his hair in a low ponytail today, leaving his hat at camp and wearing his old jacket over top of his normal fancy clothes. 

As they entered town Frisk reached up and tugged on Henry’s jacket, making him turn and kneel down to their height.

“Hey kid what’s wrong?” Henry asked calmly. Frisk couldn’t find the words to explain it, so they moved their hands in intricate motions, signing to Henry that they’re scared. Henry smiled and signed back saying that he understood and stood back up, grabbing Frisk’s hand in his own and walking with them into the town. They strolled for a bit until they reached a library. Henry pushed open the door to the dark shop, everything seemed old and sketchy. Henry flicked the light switch, lighting up everything and showing not a single speck of dust. All the books in sight seemed brand new, the floor itself looked recently polished. 

“Ah visitors, it’s been too long” A voice chimed from up the stairs. Down walked a man of average height, he had tan skin and dark brown hair pulled into a soft ponytail along his back. He wore grey glasses and a light orange apron, all tied together with a dark blue tie with a small shiny pendant on it. “My name is Mr. Williams, how may I help you?”

“Um hi, I’m Henry, we’re looking for specific books.” Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course, what genre?”

“I’m looking for a book on politics and Mr. Henry is looking for books on human souls.” Frisk chimed in.

“Great, Henry, do you see the shelf by the mirror over there? The books over there should be what you're looking for” The man said, gesturing his hand towards a mirror hanging on the wall. “As for you young child, let me show you where the political books are.” 

Henry made his way to where Mr. Williams had gestured too, turning his head only once to make sure Frisk was okay. The white-haired man sighed as he scanned over the books looking for the correct one. One stood out among the others, it was an older book with a leather cover, he pulled it out of the shelf and stared at the cover. Guide to souls, and how to work soul bonds. Henry shrugged and opened up the table of contents when something caught his eye. One of the very last chapters was titled “How to undo an unwanted soul bond”. He flipped right to the page it would be on, desperate for answers, unfortunately fate was kicking him in the rear this time when the page was shown to be torn out and missing. Great, just freaking great.

“What’s wrong Heny~ Sick of me already?” Henry turned to the ghost behind him. 

“Leave me alone player, I was doing fine before you came along” He stated coldly.

“Don’t you see Hen, you need me, you’re only here because I made you better, and I still need to repay my debt for you helping me all those years ago.”

“I was a child, I of course helped you, just because I did that doesn’t mean I need a demon following me throughout my life!” Henry shout whispered. 

"Eh, everyone's a critic, now if you excuse me, I have to take a snack break.”

“Don’t you dare say it-”

“On the fear of weak.” 

“Of freaking course you drama royal.” 

“Thank you for using the correct pronouns.”

“I’m not an asshole” Henry laughed, following it with a frown. He looked back down at the book in his hand, flipping through the other pages before looking back up. “Hey could you-”

Gone. Player had vanished, like always. The man sighed and turned to the shelf to find another book.

~~~

A few hours had gone by before Henry and Frisk met back up at the entrance to the building, Frisk holding three novel length books on politics for beginners and Henry just with the leather book with the missing page.

“Well I hope you two found everything you needed, feel free to keep those books, I really don’t need them.” The librarian said with a smile. Henry felt something off this time, but shrugged it off as something to not worry about. Frisk wasn’t satisfied with what the kind gentleman had said and reached into their pocket. “Oh, you don’t need to pay, please it’s the least I could do for you lovely folks.”

“Mr. Williams sir, is something wrong?” The child asked, tilting their head to the side. 

“No, no, I’m perfectly grand, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do since you two stopped by.” Mr. Williams reassured. “But, maybe I have been a bit lonely, you see, I lost my daughters a few years ago and no one takes interest in my library anymore.”

Frisk nodded before asking, “What were your daughters' names?”

“I see you're quite the learner young one, very well then. My younger daughter was Cassie, she was a really sweet girl and my older daughter was Amy, she was like a little mini-me.” Mr. Williams said with a spark of joy, dimming as he finished his sentence. Frisk blinked for a moment before reaching into their pocket and pulling out a light orange cloth wrapped around a box-like object (how Frisk was carrying this, Henry didn’t know). 

“I found these, they had your daughters’ names on them, I thought you may want them back.” The child said, unwrapping the fabric to show it was an apron wrapped around a dark purple journal. Frisk passed them to a baffled Mr. Williams as he stared at the objects.

"Th-thank you Frisk, this means so much." He responded, tears welling in his eyes. The man held them close, not wanting to let go at all. 

The store fell silent as the three said their goodbyes. Henry and Frisk left, books in hand, ready to go back. Mr. Williams smiled for what felt like the first time in years. He set the journal and apron on the table below the mirror. He turned ready to head back upstairs to enjoy some tea, but he heard the noise of glass shattering, darting back around to see his mirror broken, right from the center. Two of the shards landed each on his daughter's possessions. 

He thought to himself, they need me, don’t they?

[bevvydraws]

“Please Stay?” (Why Stay? pt. 2)

Part two of “Why Stay?” Is now finished! This is a fix-it fic to the episode “Ladybug”! Read part one here! I hope you enjoy!

-----------------------------

For the next day and a half, Marinette threw herself into a frenzy. She didn’t allow herself to stay still for more than 30 minutes. Every time she tried to relax, she ended up dwelling on how everything had gone downhill so quickly. After her parents asked why she had been giving them a bit of a cold shoulder, she had a serious talk with them, and let them know just how bad it hurt when they just immediately accepted Lila’s lies. Cautiously she told them about all that had happened since the first day that Lila had shown up. Marinette had cried, and her parents quickly brought her in for a tight embrace. They apologized profusely, and Marinette understood. Her parents were caring, compassionate people. They did not think about how awful and manipulative some children could be. 

After their talk, she had laid down and napped away her emotional exhaustion. But once she was awake, she began her desperate attempt to do anything to keep her mind off of what had happened. She cooked meals, cleaned the house, helped in the bakery, started on fashion projects she had been procrastinating for weeks, and even rearranged the garden on her balcony. In this span of time, Marinette had hardly spoken to Tikki, who recognized Marinette’s need for space. Marinette was grateful. Tikki could be a bit overwhelming sometimes with her well-meaning (albeit sometimes condescending) advice. But somehow no amount of busywork or space could completely erase the hollow feeling in her gut. 

Alya had tried to call her once, right after she had left the school, but after that, there was nothing but radio silence from any of her friends. Not that she would have responded anyway, but it still made the pit in her stomach feel that much bigger. Her friends really were mad at her, weren’t they? Once she began thinking about it, she immediately turned to find something to do to take her mind off of it. 

It was her fifth time rearranging the flower pots on her balcony when she heard a small “thud” on the roof. It didn’t startle her, despite the fact that she had been lost in thought about whether to arrange the flowers by name or color, but months of fighting akumatized villains left her with little to fear. Besides, she knew what it was--or rather who it was--that landed on her rooftop. The almost imperceptible jingle of a bell as he moved only confirmed what she already knew. 

“Evening, Chat Noir.”

“Don’t you mean ‘good evening’?” Chat responded, chuckling, but there was no real humor behind it. For some reason, it sounded as if he were being cautious. Marinette looked up from her flower pot, focused her gaze on the beginnings of a beautiful sunset for a moment, then sighed before turning to face him. It was then that she could see that he was still perched on her roof, looking at her with a worried expression she’d only seen him give her when she was Ladybug. Her heart tightened in her chest, but her voice still kept the same dull tone. 

“There’s nothing terribly good about this evening, I’m afraid.” 

“Not even with your favorite hero here?” his tone suggested that he was joking, but Marinette knew him well enough to tell that he was worried (even if he didn’t know that she knew him that well). 

“Well, maybe it’s not… all bad,” Marinette cracked a small smile, if only to get him to stop worrying. “Why did you stop by, anyways?” 

“Well… I know someone who goes to school with you, apparently, and they told me about you almost being akumatized the other day. I figured I’d, I dunno, check and see how you’ve been holding up?” Chat was standing in front of her now, but he couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. He was rubbing at the back of his neck, a gesture that seemed oddly familiar to Marinette. But Chat’s defeated sigh distracted her from thinking about it too hard. “Honestly, Marinette? I was worried.” 

Marinette took a step back, surprised, “You were worried?” 

Chat nodded, and held his arms open, “I don’t know if you’re much of a hugger… but, whenever I’d had a really rough time a hug from someone who cared always helped me.” Marinette’s eyes widened, and in the dimming light of the sunset saw a tint of pink staining his cheeks. Without her consent, her eyes began to water and she threw herself into his embrace. Her face pressed against his chest, and she began to sob. Chat wrapped his arms around her securely. When it seemed like her legs were going to give out, he carefully picked her up and sat down on the lounge chair. Marinette didn’t seem to care that she was now curled up against him while on his lap. Instead, she leaned into him more and continued to cry. 

Chat Noir rubbed the top of her hair, using his other arm to keep a firm hold on her. He started a low rumble in his chest that seemed to soothe her. Eventually, her crying died down to quiet sniffles. “I-” Marinette hiccuped, “I’m so s-sorry, Chat.” 

Chat looked into her watery blue eyes and he could hear the sound of his own heart shattering into a million pieces. He moved his gloved hand from the top of her head to cup her cheek. “What on Earth are you apologizing for?” 

Marinette leaned into his touch, wondering why she was suddenly craving more of his comforting presence. She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice got caught in her throat. Biting her lip, Marinette just shook her head and brought her hands up to hold the one cupping her cheek. She took a deep breath and once again met Chat’s gaze. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Chat Noir. Things are tough on me right now, but no one is to blame for that but Lila. And I refuse to keep letting her control my life. Which is why I believe I’m going to switch schools.” 

“Switch schools?!” 

Marinette winced at his sharp yelp, and Chat cringed. Marinette sighed, “Yes. I’m going to transfer schools. I mean, all of my friends gave up on me. They really believed that I did a bunch of terrible things when it was obvious that Lila had framed me. After everything I’ve done to be there for them… they really believed I was capable of being a cheat, a thief, and that I had pushed her down the stairs.” Marinette wiped at her eyes in hopes of keeping any more tears from falling, “They hate me. So the only real option that I have is to move schools because Lila won. She turned everyone against me just like she said she would.” 

“You think everyone hates you…?” Chat Noir asked. 

“My best friend Alya always takes her side, so of course Nino is going to agree with Alya, and the majority of the class is wrapped around her finger. Even Max, and he’s like the most logical person in the class! He’s able to do equations in his head like it’s nothing but he thinks catching a napkin will hurt someone’s wrist?” Marinette stood up then and began pacing, missing the warmth of Chat only subconsciously as she tugged at one of her pigtails. She huffed, even stomping her foot, “And then to make matters worse, even Adrien turned his back on me!” 

“W-what?!” Chat, who had been too afraid to interrupt her rambling, suddenly sat up completely. Marinette gave him a funny look, so he cleared his throat, hoping it was enough to play it off but being more concerned with her last sentence, “What do you mean?” 

“A while back… a boy in my class, Adrien, told me that everything would be okay as long as the two of us knew that Lila was a liar. He said that we’d be in this together. But now he’s doing photo shoots with her and I’m all alone. Even he hates me so much that he’d rather side with Lila.” Marinette looked down at her feet, “Honestly… that hurts worse than any of the others.” 

“Mari-” 

“I was so stupid to think that he’d ever love me back.” 

Her voice was soft, almost too soft for Chat Noir to hear. But he did hear it. And his heart began pounding against his ribcage at a dangerous speed. Marinette just confessed her feelings for Adrien. He is Adrien. Marinette loves him. Marinette thought he hated her. Chat Noir’s brain became a jumbled mess of colorful language and confusion. He wanted to sort through the sudden chaotic emotions he was feeling, but the heartbroken expression on Marinette’s face brought him crashing down from whatever mixture of high and confusion he was feeling. 

Now was not the time to be thinking about how lucky he was that such an amazing girl liked--no, loved--someone who was as unimpressive as him. Now was the time to cheer her up. 

Chat Noir stood and placed one hand on Marinette’s shoulder, using his other hand to tilt her chin up gently so she was looking at him. “Marinette,” he said, his tone more serious than she’d ever heard in her life, “You are amazing. You have accomplished so much and have done so many things to help those around you. You’ve even stood face to face against an akuma despite the fact that you don’t have a miraculous. You are selfless, courageous, creative, patient, loving, forgiving, and an all-around super person.” As Chat spoke, he saw Marinette’s cheeks go red, “I know that right now things are really hard on you, but I swear that everything will work out just fine. Lila will get what’s coming to her, one way or another. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice anything in order to appease someone as awful as her. I swear on my miraculous that everything will turn out just fine.” 

Marinette bit her lip again, not quite sure what to say but also not willing to break her gaze, “You swear?” 

Chat Noir nods, “I do. And don’t worry about your classmates or that Adrien kid. I heard that all of them were devastated after you left.” He thought about how Marinette said that he--well, the Adrien him--hated her, and added, “And Adrien would have to be an absolute idiot to hate you, Marinette.” 

That caused Marinette to chuckle, “He’s not an idiot, Chat.” 

“He is,” Chat said matter-of-factly, “And he is completely undeserving of your love.” 

“Don’t say that,” Marinette sighed, “Everyone deserves love, kitty. Except for Hawkmoth. And Lila.” 

Chat Noir laughed, “You’re too kind, princess.” 

Chat Noir stayed with Marinette well into the evening, and the two sat curled up together again on her lounge chair, laughing and talking. It was the best Marinette had felt since the day she got expelled. Finally, someone was listening. Finally, someone cared. It just further solidified what Marinette always knew: she could always count on Chat Noir, whether as Ladybug or as herself. And that knowledge made handling everything seem a lot easier. 

Before Chat Noir left, he pressed a small kiss to Marinette’s cheek, giving her another reassurance that everything would be fine. “I’m sure your friends will try to apologize sometime soon,” he said, perched on the railing of her balcony. “But no one will blame you or hold it against you if you choose not to forgive them.” And with that, he leaped off of the balcony and disappeared among the rooftops. 

Marinette watched him for as long as she could, and when she could no longer see him, she thought she could hear the faint jingling of his bell in the distance. Although it was likely just her imagination, she found comfort in it. She found comfort in him. 

She looked at the stars that were now shining bright in the sky and smiled to herself. Chat swore to her that everything was going to be okay. And she was inclined to believe him. 

—————————————— 

Marinette spent another day at home, mulling over Chat Noir’s words. Did her classmates deserve her forgiveness? Maybe not. In fact, she still found the thought of moving to a new school invigorating. A fresh start, new people, and no Lila sounded perfect for her aching heart. 

But Marinette loved her class. She loved her friends. And it was because she loved them so much that she knew in her heart that if she did decide to leave that it would take her a long time to move on. Marinette wasn’t sure if her heart could take it. She told Tikki about the visit from Chat Noir, and everything he had said to her. Tikki just smiled and told Marinette that this was a decision that she had to make for herself and that she would support her no matter what the end result was. 

With so many conflicted feelings and thoughts racing through her mind, Marinette decided to at least be a little proactive. She began scrolling through other schools in the area, check out the teachers and the clubs that were at each one. They looked promising, if Marinette were being honest with herself. Maybe she could find her place at one of these other schools, after all. The only downside she could see--minus having to meet new people--was the distance. But that still shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She was Ladybug, after all. She could leap across buildings if she ever found herself in too much of a hurry. Marinette almost found herself laughing at the thought of the scolding Tikki would surely give Marinette for even thinking of using the suit that way. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ding of her phone. The noise startled her, given that her phone had been completely void of notifications for the past three days. She glanced at it, seeing it was a text from Rose, informing her of an impromptu band gig at a party being held at Le Grand Paris Hotel. 

Marinette sighed, should she go? Would it even matter if she showed up? Marinette stared at her phone screen when suddenly the text bubble popped up again indicating Rose was typing another message. 

Suddenly a picture with the members of Kitty Section all sending her puppy eyes flashed on her screen, with the message underneath reading “Please come, it would mean so much to us!” Followed by another quick message informing her that it was a themed party, and she should come dressed as a princess. 

“Like a princess?” Marinette said out loud incredulously, wondering what on earth kind of party she would be showing up to. 

Marinette looked at the picture again and sighed, sending Rose a response that she would be there and to send her a time. Within a second of her pressing send, Rose was calling her. Marinette hesitantly answered the phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Marinette!” came Roses delighted voice, “Oh we’re so happy you said yes! We’ve missed you so much at school and we—” there were voices in the background that Marinette couldn’t make out that cut off Rose. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that the party starts at 5 o’clock tomorrow! And don’t worry about a ride, someone will be there to pick you up!” 

“Pick me up? Rose just what kind of party is—” 

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow Marinette! And don’t forget to dress like a princess!” 

“Wait Rose I—” 

“See you tomorrow!!” And with that, Rose hung up and Marinette was left staring at her phone. She wandered downstairs to ask her parents for permission, and they agreed a little too quickly. The entire situation was odd, but Marinette thought it was a good sign that Rose insisted on seeing her tomorrow. At least the members of the band still cared about Marinette, at least. Perhaps not all of her friendships were doomed after all. 

With hopes somewhat lifted, Marinette looked through her closet for her most princess-y outfit and decided on a dress that would be perfect after she gave it a few modifications. She slid the dress on a mannequin and pulled out her extra bits of fabric and set to work. She refused to look like an embarrassment when she showed up to support her friends. 

She worked on it well into the night, and by the time she was finished, she couldn’t even make it to her bed. She crashed on her chaise sofa with a resounding ‘thud’ and was instantly asleep. Tikki watched on with a little laugh, before dragging a blanket over to her holder and draping it across her. Tikki pressed a kiss to Marinette’s forehead and snuggled beside her before the little kwami also fell asleep. 

—————————————— 

Marinette woke up when the sun hit her face from her window. She tried reaching for her pillow to cover but came up empty-handed. Confused, she opened her eyes all the way and realized she was not in her bed. It took only a minute for Marinette to remember her late-night project. She shot up quickly, ignoring the stiffness in her back as she looked at the dress that was still on the mannequin. 

If Marinette was being honest, it looked even better than she expected it to. She had taken an old pink sundress, removed the straps, and had carefully revamped the entire dress. It was now a knee-length formal dress with baby pink tulle sleeves and fabric flowers that she had painstakingly cut and sown on herself. She even did some beadwork in the center of the flowers and scattered along the bust. More tulle was draped over the skirt, and more flowers covered the line where the tulle was sewn to the dress. It was truly a beautiful gown, and Marinette couldn’t believe that she’d be wearing it. Everything was so sudden, so rushed, she wasn’t even quite sure what was going on.

But knowing that she’d be able to wear a dress fit for a modern-day princess (that she had designed herself) was making her unbelievably giddy. Marinette looked at the time and realizing that she only had a few hours to get ready, practically leaped off of her chaise and began getting ready. She decided not to do eyeliner for her makeup. Instead used soft browns and pinks to give her face a soft, rosy glow. She even let her hair down for the special occasion, brushing it out and letting it fall to her shoulders. 

Marinette called her mom upstairs to help her slip into the petticoat and the dress since she was afraid of messing it up even the slightest bit. Her mother praised her for her creativity and talent, bustling about with the same excited energy Marinette normally gets whenever she’s feeling especially giddy. Sabine giggled about how she was going to be the center of attention at the party in a dress so lovely, and Marinette couldn’t help but blush at the compliments. 

“I’m not even sure what this party is for, or why Kitty Section was chosen to play, or anything. Rose was being so vague about the whole thing which is really unlike her,” Marinette told her mother, who tried to keep a knowing smile from forming on her face. 

“Marinette, dear, maybe it’s best to just go with the flow this once, alright?” she suggested, “You’ve been invited to a party that your friends are playing at! You get to show off this absolutely stunning dress you created in just one evening, and you might be able to talk to your friends about your concerns about coming back to school. But most importantly, Marinette, you have the chance to have some fun after so many days of feeling miserable.” Sabine hugged her daughter and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Everything will work out how it should. So try not to question things all the time and just let things happen as they were intended to” 

“You’re right, Maman,” Marinette smiled, hugging her mom back. “I’ll just enjoy myself the best I can.” Her mom placed another kiss to the side of her head and the two walked downstairs to wait for her ride to show up. 

To Marinette’s surprise, her ride was a limo. When the fancy vehicle pulled up to the front of the bakery, Marinette was a stuttering mess trying hard to figure out just what in the world was going on. She was sure that there was a mixup, but when the driver stepped out she recognized Adrien’s bodyguard--Gorilla, she had heard Adrien call him. 

Marinette was nervous as she approached him, and she looked up at the intimidating man with what she was sure was fear in her eyes. “Is this ride for me?” 

The man nodded and opened the door for her. As she slid in and waved goodbye to her parents, she cast another unsure glance at the Gorilla. Only this time he gave her a small smile. She found that his little smile eased her nerves quite a bit, and she sat back and enjoyed her luxury ride. 

The ride was a short one, and soon she was in front of Le Grand Paris Hotel. Pink balloons were placed at the entrance, and the guard at the front was donned in a white uniform instead of his usual black. The man bowed to hear, mumbling a “Welcome, honored guest”, before opening the door for her. Marinette’s confusion only increased as she entered the hotel to see the lobby almost completely empty. Almost. 

Standing towards the center of the lobby was Nino, who was donned in an outfit that was oddly familiar. His red hat was replaced by a pink one, and he was wearing a black button-up shirt and pink pants with matching pink and black shoes. “Nino?” Marinette called, stepping closer to him, “What on earth is going on?” 

Nino looked at her and a bright smile lit up his face, “Welcome dud— I mean, welcome Princess!” He offers out his arm, “It’s my privilege to escort you to the party being held in your honor. Please follow me.” 

“In my honor?” Marinette asked, her voice hoarse all of a sudden. She hooked her arm through Nino’s, though, and he began leading them towards the elevator. “Nino, what’s going on?” 

Nino’s bright smile became a bit more apologetic as they stepped onto the elevator and he pushed the buttons. As the elevator started to move, he looked at her and said softly, “This is our way of apologizing to you, Marinette. It’s nothing compared to everything you’ve done for us, but we really hope you accept our apology.” 

“We?” Marinette asked as the doors to the elevator opened. Almost as if in response to her question, she was greeted by a loud chorus of people. 

“Welcome, Princess Marinette!” they all shouted.

And suddenly, everything seemed like a blur. She was rushed into the crowd of people. Friends both in and out of her classroom, all dressed to resemble her signature outfit. Most of the girls and even some of the guys put pigtails in their hair. Marinette was the only one dressed like a princess, she had realized. 

“What is all of this?” Marinette looked around, her eyes watering as she took in the sight of pink polka-dotted balloons and a banner that said: “We love you, Marinette!” 

Alya made her way to the front of the crowd of people surrounding her and wrapped her arms around Marinette in a tight hug. “This is our way of apologizing for how awfully we treated you, Mari.”

“We are so sorry for believing all of Lila’s lies!” Rose said, joining the hug and using one hand to wipe at her watery eyes. 

“We miss you,” came Juleka’s mumbled response as she also joined the hug. 

One by one the rest of the class joined in on the hug, and Marinette was trapped. Tears fell freely down her face and she wiped at them the best she could without smearing her makeup. “You guys..” she said weakly, “I’ve missed you, too.” 

“Please don’t leave!” Kim shouts, “Who else is going to make banners for when me and Alix race? Or let me stick pencils in their hair when I’m bored?” 

“Kim!” Alix scolds, jumping up to slap the back of his head, “This isn’t about you!” 

Marinette laughed as she watched Kim rub the back of his head and begin bickering with Alix while Rose tried to calm them both down. Everyone else either moved to watch them or wandered off to do their own thing. She shook her head and then turned to look at Alya, who had the most guilty expression Marinette had ever seen. “I’m really sorry, Marinette,” she said weakly, “And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your friendship, but I hope we can still be friends…” 

Marinette placed a hand on Alya’s shoulder, “Of course we can still be friends, Alya. But I feel like there are some things we need to work on, alright?” 

“Of course, I agree,” Alya nodded quickly, “There’s a lot I need to do to make this right. And to start, I have some good news.” 

“And that is…?” 

“Lila is expelled from our school.” 

“What?! Why?! When?! How?!”

“I can’t take all of the credit for it,” Alya said, “Adrien is most of the reason why it happened. The day after you left, he came to me with a lot of information that he had kept to himself. Like how Lila forced her way into his house, how he had to use their ‘friendship’ against her to get her to come up with a story as to why she framed you for expulsion, and a bunch of other things. And he told me about how you and him both knew all along about how Lila truly was. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you, Marinette.” 

“A-Adrien helped get her expelled?!” 

Suddenly a voice came from behind her, “It’s the least I could do for our everyday Ladybug.”

Marinette jumped and turned to face Adrien, who was smiling at her. Something about the smile was different, but Marinette was too flustered to think too hard about it. Then she noticed his hair pulled up into two tiny blonde pigtails and she let out an ungraceful snort. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I-I love your hair, Adrien,” she managed to get out between giggles. 

“Why thank you,” he said with a grandiose tone of voice while bowing dramatically. The pose made a bell go off in Marinette’s mind, but she tried to ignore it, “I was inspired by my favorite princess.” He looked up from his bowed position and winked at her. 

Marinette’s eyes widened and her heart stopped. This was familiar. This was too familiar. The tone, the pose, all she had left to do was imagine that the pigtails on top of his head were leather cat ears and the boy in front of her was not her mild-mannered classmate but was instead the leather-clad goofball she ran across rooftops with. And by the expression on Adrien’s face, he knew that she had just realized who he was. Adrien stood straight again and offered his hand out to her. She could only stare at him in response. 

“Care to dance with me, Marinette?” 

“There’s no music,” she numbly replied. 

“We can fix that!” Alya said excitedly and rushed off to get Kitty Section--who in fact was meant to play at this party--set up to begin playing. As soon as she was out of earshot, Marinette turned to look at Adrien again, who was smiling at her. 

“I can’t believe it,” Marinette said, “I can not believe that you and him are the same person.” 

“I’m not sure what you mean, princess,” Adrien grinned, “I am me, and that’s it.” 

With courage that only comes from facing akumas on a weekly basis, Marinette stepped closer to Adrien until she was inches away from his face. “Is that so, kitty?” she teased, and made a motion as if she were flicking at a bell that was not there, “Well then it’s fair to say that I am me, and that’s it.” 

It was Adrien’s turn to look surprised, but it soon turned into a look of utter joy, “Milady? Can I really be that lucky?” 

Marinette grinned, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Adrien.” 

The music started up, and Marinette held her hand out to him, “Now dance with me, tomcat.” 

Adrien quickly accepted, and the two danced and danced until their feet hurt. The last song they had danced to had been a slow one, and it gave Marinette and Adrien time to talk. They whispered silently between each other, talking about how crazy it was that they had been right next to each other all along. They talked about how blind they both were, and they also talked about their feelings. There wasn’t much to talk about, though. It was plain as day that they both loved each other. 

“You look stunning, by the way,” Adrien told her, smiling as he saw her face light up in a blush.

“Thank you,” Marinette bashfully whispered. “If I would have known I would have been dancing, I would have worn different shoes though.” 

“I’d be happy to carry you, milady.”

“I bet you would, you alley cat.” Marinette nudged him slightly with a laugh. Adrien chuckled, then his tone became a little sadder.

“You know, we probably shouldn’t know each other’s identity, bug,” Adrien whispered, “It could cause all sorts of problems.” 

“More problems than fighting a supervillain every week?” Marinette responded, “More problems than exams?” 

“Maybe not,” Adrien laughed, “But I know that it doesn’t matter because even if it did, we’d figure it out.” 

Marinette closed her eyes and hummed in agreement, “You’re right. We would.” 

Adrien leaned his forehead against hers, and she opened her eyes in surprise. Adrien stopped the slow circle they had been moving in, and his hand cupped her cheek. “It’s you and me against the world, princess. And I’m sorry I left you hanging when it came to Lila. I was so stupid. And I am undeserving of your forgiveness and your love.” 

Marinette placed her hand over his, “I told you before, everyone is deserving of love, kitty.” She reassured, parroting what she said when he visited her on her rooftop. “Except for Lila and Hawkmoth. And now that Lila is gone--thanks to you, in fact--all we need to worry about now is Hawkmoth.” 

“But he can wait,” Adrien smiled, “Right now, I want to enjoy the rest of this party celebrating my favorite person in the whole world.” He leaned in a little closer, and Marinette met him in a kiss that made the problems of the past week melt away. Their free hands found each other and their fingers intertwined. 

Despite all of the craziness and the emotional rollercoaster she had been on in the past week, she had found her place. Her place was at school, surrounded by people who did understand her. People who showed that they would rather band together and throw a ridiculous party where they celebrated her, than think about losing her for good. And side by side with the only person who had always had her back, even when she didn’t realize it. 

And somehow, even though she had discovered Chat Noir’s identity, she still found herself more surprised that the party was Chloe’s idea than anything else.

[secret-engima]

I just thought... What if the Arachne Mother survived? She held herself together for her children for oh, so long, and it was so very hazy at first- she sang for her children. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes. Anything that might be a comfort to them from a momma gone... strange. And they sang back, her beautiful children. They sang, and the haze lightened. Things got easier. And eventually the dawn came. She expected to go with the night. She didn't. By then, she wasn't the only one.

A Pretty Song-esque AU huh? I .... could work with that. Non-canon but sure!

SUPER LONG FICLET RAMBLE.

It starts with the singing. The lullabies she croaks out to them after Turning. It starts with her beloved children watching her shake with the pain of holding back the Scourge’s fury and clumsily singing back to her in an effort to help.

And it does. When her children sing, her mind clears. Just a bit. And then a bit more. More and more until there is only the faintest haze, the slightest disconnect that keeps her from plunging into insanity from the horror of no longer being human. She is ... she is the mother of her two precious baby children, and that is all that matters. Her extra limbs and different coloring, her webs and claws and extra set of crushing jaws is irrelevant. Those are her children and she will take care of them, sing to them and be sung to and that is what matters.

She still tries to bring Hunters, because food for human children is so hard to find and there are so many daemons that do not listen, do not hear her children’s voices. But she tries less and less as the haze clears and her mind steadies, and the reports of an occasional odd Arachne are not frequent or deadly enough to attract the attention of a dedicated Hunt.

She comes back from looking for food one day to find a Yojimbo lurking near her cellar nest and she screams at him in fury, pauses when he obediently flees to the far side of the farm and then lingers. She hisses and snarls and he growls back before finally leaving.

She comes back another day and finds him again. Sitting with his sword sheathed and propped on his shoulder, head tilted toward the cellar as he clumsily croaks out the melody to the song her children are singing through the door. She drives him away again.

Three more times this repeats before it finally clicks that ... somehow ... this Yojimbo can hear her children’s songs like she can. In that way that makes the haze and pain clear away. That he is desperate for that clarity and keeps coming back to hear them sing through the door at him. On his next visit, he brings her an armful of canned food. Human food. Food for her babies. He retreats to the far side of the farm again and lingers. She does not drive him away this time.

The Yojimbo is the first of five. Five souls who are either so old or so stubborn the Scourge has not completely eaten their minds and when they hear her children singing, when the tingle of the Light in their veins draws them near, the haze clears and they calm. They think once more. They compare, in croaking words and gurgling hisses, their stories. Their fractured awareness. She is Mother, as she has always been, and those are her children, Pandora and Orion. The Yojimbo was once a Brother. A Brother of eight little ones who sang and laughed, but now he cannot find them. He does not know how long they have been gone. The Nagarani twins are Sisters who were also Mothers, and they still search for their children, but come back regularly to listen to the songs of the little twins to clear their minds. The littlest of them, the Tonberry, was a Child, and it was in one of the rare times Arachne Mother let her children outside to play under her’s and Brother’s watchful eyes that he heard the singing and remembered what he had once been. They were happy to take in another child, and her babies were thrilled to have another playmate who was so good at sneaking into small places and coming back with new food.

The last of them is the strongest of them all. A Psychomancer who had abandoned the territory in which he had awoken and searched endlessly for ... something, until he stumbled across the farm and heard her children sing.

Saw their inner Light as it sparkled out of their skin like glowing blue snowfall during their games.

He stayed for their Light rather than their songs, he said. He stayed because he was certain they were what he had been searching for. He stayed because he had once been a Soldier, and as he pulled free the two small blades that had long been buried in his body and offered them to her babies, he crooned at them because in them he had found what he needed. A Soldier’s purpose.

Between the six of them, her babies were safe from the other daemons and wild things that did not listen to the songs, they were fed on food scavenged by the Child and the Sisters, and the meat of fresh animal kills dragged back by the Brother. With the Soldier there, always there, the farm was safe, for even Iron Giants and roving packs of Bombs and Goblins turned aside rather than fight the Soldier, who had come from a territory that bred much strong daemons than here and who possessed the cunning of a clear, mostly untainted mind thanks to her babies.

The Soldier taught her to leave strands of webbing around the farm and the surrounding area, nets and ropes and things that would trip and stick and tangle, and as her little ones grew bigger, the Soldier taught them about their Light. How to hide the blades he had given them in the Light and how to call them back when in danger, how to fight and duck and weave, how to fall through space and reappear somewhere else. The Soldier knew all those things, even though he could not remember how or why, but they kept her children safe, and for that, Mother was grateful.

It is the Sisters that bring back the first of the human strays. Three children of different ages, terrified and hungry and sad. Soldier says they should be given to humans, but Mother is a Mother, and she welcomes them. Her children teach them songs, and the addition of three more voices makes the world clearer than ever before. The Sisters start a habit of bringing back strays, all of them human children, all of them found without a human adult nearby. It puts extra pressure on the others to find food, and the Soldier and the Brother have to repair the old farmhouse as best they can when the cellar becomes too crowded, but none of them can begrudge the additional children.

If Arachne Mother had still possessed a sense of time with which to count, she would have known her children to be 7 years old and their collection of strays grown to ten strong when trouble follows the Child home. Humans, ever more desperate for food and supplies, had spotted the Child toddling away with a blanket sled of canned goods and that, coupled with other reports of odd daemon activity in that area, led to a Hunting party being dispatched to take a look.

They make it maybe halfway to the farm before getting hopeless caught and tangled in Mother’s web traps, which pull the collection of empty cans the Soldier had rigged up in a nearby tree and clatter loudly.

Mother goes and finds them, four hunters all tangled up in her webs without a prayer of getting out and she dithers. The traps were meant for other daemons, not for humans. The Scourge screams to fall on them and devour them, but her mind has been clear for years now and she refuses to fall back now. She clicks and chatters to herself in agitation while the Brother, who came with her, idly pokes one of the humans with the tip of his sword sheath in dull curiosity. The Brother is the one to stop chattering softly in daemon and instead rasp with human words, “Why ... come?”

The humans, dangling in the web traps, gape without answer. The Brother pokes one of them again and the littlest one, blond haired and skinny, sputters, “Did I just- did it just- talk?”

“Why ... come?” Rasps the Brother impatiently and the one with deep scars on his face answers shakily, “Just to look around. We ... were looking for food.” He smells like he’s telling the truth, but not all of the truth.

Brother clicks to himself and looks at Mother. It is her farm and her children, she is in charge. Mother remembers days before the haze fully cleared and the Brother came. Remembers frantically trying to find humans to take care of her children.

She untangles them from the web. If they cause trouble, she and Brother and Soldier will be enough to stop them. And with the surprisingly deadly Child home as well, they will stand no chance, even without the Sisters there to help (the Sisters wander the most, still searching for the children they cannot find).

They let the humans follow them back to the farm, and the noises of shock that come from them upon seeing the children (all outside under Soldier’s careful watch for mandatory play time and exercise) is funny somehow. Soldier looks up sharply at the sound and his fires flare hot when he catches sight of the humans.

The children huddle away from the strangers, and Mother coos at them softly, petting heads and shoulders in reassurance, only to stiffen and hiss warningly when her babies inch forward and call their blades to point at the humans, demanding to know why they are here.

All of them, child and daemon, startle when two of the humans burst into tears. The third follows quickly, as soon as he senses the Light of her children and hears his companions sob, “Oh Astrals, Noct had kids”. The fourth sinks slowly onto one knee, staring not at her children, but at their twin blades the Soldier gave them long ago.

The humans do a lot of talking and after a few flinches and stupified staring, they ask the Mother and the others questions. Who are they, how are they still sane, who are all the children, who are the Twins that have “magic”? They tell the humans what they can, wary but open to answering the humans’ questions. The looks on their faces as they hear the story is something Mother can no longer translate, so she busies herself running careful claws through Pandora’s and Orion’s hair to neaten it.

They speak of someone called Noct, and memory dimly sparks. Of the Time Before and blue eyes and a shy laugh.

They tell their names, hesitantly, Gladiolus, Prompto, Ignis.

The fourth is still staring at the twin blades her children play with as he says his name is Libertus.

The Soldier makes a noise like he has just been badly injured and all of the daemons and children tense. The humans tense too, looking to the Psychomancer who flexes his claws and drifts closer, staring at the one called Libertus.

There is silence for a long, long time. Then the Psychomancer rasps, “For ... Hearth ... and...” he clicks in frustration, the ending of the phrase long lost to him.

Libertus looks very pale, even by human standards, “Home. For Hearth and Home.” Soldier clicks in approval and the man looks from the blades to Soldier before rasping, “...Nyx? Astrals- Nyx is that...?”

Soldier ponders that for a long time, “No,” he croaks at last. “Not ... Nyx.” Soldier tilts his head and touches the places where he had once pulled the blades free, “Ulric.” the Soldier rattles, surprised by the sudden word that just came from his mouth, “Ulric,” he repeats, “His blades. I woke ... they were ... inside. Ulric ... was gone.” A blink and a slow, vague, almost dreamlike, “Reckless ... Glaive.” Soldier blinks again, like he doesn’t know why he is saying those things, but they are so ingrained they have risen up from the blank slate that was the Times Before he was a daemon.

Libertus goes even paler and leans heavily against the nearest other human, “Captain. Oh Six... you’re Captain.”

Soldier rattles in quiet recognition of the word, then offers a hesitant, “Glaive ... Ostium.”

Mother notes that while the other three humans are still confused, Libertus looks like the stray children did the first time Brother brought back a fresh animal kill to eat, all pale and quavery right before they turned away and hacked up bile from empty stomachs. The one called Libertus does not vomit, but he stays very pale even as Gladiolus mutters, “So much for a quick Hunt. Six, I need a drink.” Child, ever helpful, toddles over with one of the bottles of water he had found during his searches and holds it out, the man stares before taking it with a wheezy mutter of thanks and slugs it down like he hasn’t had a drink in days.

Maybe it’s a good thing Mother hadn’t given her children to humans, if the adults aren’t even able to look after themselves.

“I think,” offers the one with the face scars, “we all need to sit down and reevaluate.”

They do and it’s hard, and the children have to sing a few times to keep everyone calm and thinking clearly, but eventually an agreement is reached. The humans don’t want to leave the children out here with just daemons for caretakers, but none of the daemons are willing to give up the children. In the end, they come to an agreement. The children will stay at the farm with the daemons, and the humans will help rebuild the farmhouse properly and add defenses to help ward off other, “deaf” daemons. In exchange for staying and not being bothered, the farm will become another safe zone for traveling Hunters to stay and rest for a while before moving on. This area has very few of the Light stones the humans call Havens, so another safe place to stay would be invaluable. The humans, in exchange for being allowed to stay, will bring extra food, blankets, toys, whatever the children need, including a generator to replace the one that finally died not long after the Soldier came.

No one is entirely happy with it, but they are agreed.

She doesn’t expect the four humans to come back quite so regularly though. But the three brothers are attached to her twins, certain that Pandora and Orion are the children of their missing sibling, and the fourth, Libertus, insists he knew the Soldier (now renamed the Captain) before he was a daemon.

It is rocky at first, the Hunters are skittish and afraid of the daemons, afraid for the children that the daemons care for, but the regular visits of the Four smooths things over and Mother gets used to having adult humans drift in with gifts of toys and food and medicine in exchange for sleeping a while in the Farmhouse under their watchful eyes.

When Pandora and Orion are ten years old, the Captain suddenly leaves the farm, driven by some urge he cannot name. They await his return patiently, for they’ve all wandered off at one time or another.

Except before he does, the world is rewritten in Light, and Mother loses track of everything that is not Pain™.

She opens her eyes and squints up at a sky that is not black, but blue and realizes ... she is on her back.

She is ... she is human.

Again?

Again. She is human again, because she was once human, just like her children are human, and now, somehow, she is human once more, with her children hovering over her and crying with relief as she wakes up.

She sits up and looks around. The Brother is there, shaking his head and staring at a world that is suddenly much taller, the Child clatters out of the cellar, still hauling his knife and lantern, but his skin pale and his new hair a shaggy gold. The Sisters coo as they gently touch hands, fascinated with having them again. The Hunters who had been staying the night gape and cry and cheer.

The sun has returned.

Four days later, so does Captain, human and limping and tired and grumbling under his breath that the journey was much faster when he could just float everywhere, a wheezing-with-laughter Libertus supporting him as he stumbles, something lighter in the human’s- the fellow human’s- expression than Mother- Evie- has ever seen before.

Behind them come the three brothers...

And their fourth.

Evie stares at black hair and soft blue eyes, the shy crinkle of his mouth into a smile as he looks around the farm and its restored inhabitants and she thinks “oh.”

She calls her children and leads them over, and before anyone else can say a word, she rasps with her still rusty voice, “Pandora, Orion, this is your father.”

And their father, Noct, Noctis, Bringer of Dawn and Defier of Fates ... smiles in baffled awe and wonder and growing adoration as he beholds his children for the first time.

(anyway yes, I reverted them to human just because I wanted to, and Noctis lives because i wanted him too. He deserves his happy ending dang it.)

[mrsbhandari]

Permafrost

a/n: hi!! ive recently gotten past my block a little bit so ive been able to write more. this is a sequel to Wilt, and i’ll be writing more for this short unplanned series soon!! 

words: 1.3k

warnings: language, awkwardness

summary: he’s home for the holidays, and boy is it cold.

#

It was three in the afternoon when Ajay passed the sign reading “Welcome to Cedar Cove!”, and it was around 3:05 when he pulled into his parents’ driveway, looking the exact same from when he had last visited a few months ago. He hadn’t told anyone but his family about that last visit, but everyone was sure to find out about his current one. He was half excited and half dreading it. Before he got out, he heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, steeling himself for the inevitability of having to face his friends who mostly decided to stay in Cedar Cove, and even the ones who didn’t still returning home for the holidays. 

His suitcase was light in his hands, a testament to the fact that he always packed light. A small flashback to the London trip left as soon as it came, centered on a blonde ponytail and a bright smile. Fuck, it’s been a year and a half. Get over her, he scolded himself and sucked his teeth, choosing to focus instead on the faded  yellows and dull oranges of the dead leaves lining the cement path to his door, adorned with a small note. 

AT GOLDEN GRIDDLE. JOIN US WHEN YOU’RE SETTLED. YOU KNOW WHERE THE KEY IS! :)

Ajay let out a bitter laugh. Of course it’s the diner. Finding the key under the mat, he set to work getting inside and to his room, both pleased and uncomfortable at how untouched it was. Rather than immediately start unpacking, he dug around in the memories of what felt like his past life, full of pictures and gifts he couldn’t bear to bring with him when he went to New York. His side of the dorm room was bare, but he figured that it was better than filling every inch of his new life with his old one, featuring a girl who probably hated him. He sucked in a breath as that truth came to the front of his mind. Nope, definitely hates me. 

The breakup had been sad but swift, since Ajay left the very next day. He never considered himself to be an asshole, but upon watching her weakly beat her fists against his chest as she sobbed against his shirt while he just stood there silently, taking it without a word, he knew that she was going to go home and cut up all the pictures of him that previously cluttered her walls. His legs felt weak as he walked over to his own relationship shrine, a collection of movie tickets, pictures, and notes shared between them that he had never gotten the chance to take down. A music box she gifted him gathered dust on his desk, so he blew it off and wound it up, allowing the light, tinkling notes to play as he placed his clothes back into empty drawers. It was 3:25 when he finished, grabbing his phone from his nightstand and shutting off the light to leave. 

It had been months since he’d visited Cedar Cove, but as he drove down the streets he’d grown up on, it seemed that the only thing that changed was the leaves on the trees. The closer he drove to the diner, the more he felt the anticipation and hope that maybe...something else was different. 

The parking lot was far more packed than he ever remembered it being, even when teenagers stormed the place after plays and football games. The spot he pulled into was facing the diner, and in the late afternoon sun, he sat in his car and watched the people sitting in the booths through the windows. He spotted his mom, Jim, and Mohit sitting in a booth, his little brother laughing loudly at something his stepfather said. Ajay glanced up and felt his breath catch in his throat. 

She changed her work hairstyle, electing to have it in a messy braid that reached down her back. The uniforms had changed, too, now consisting of a simple checkerboard T-shirt rather than the previous solid red. Desperate to keep a low profile the last time he visited Cedar Cove, he refused to even pass by the diner; now he wanted to know everything he’d missed out on because of his pride. Everyone else in the diner was facing away from him, so he couldn’t pick out anyone that could possibly know him. Taking another deep breath, he turned off his car and made his way into the restaurant. 

The bell over the door rang obnoxiously as he entered, signaling an arrival he wished to keep quiet. He kept his head down as he walked to wear his family was seated, but quickly looked up after everyone who was facing away from him turned around at once. 

“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices shouted, making him wince as his eyes traveled from face to face. His family was the first group of people to say hi, but they quickly went back to their seats to allow the onslaught of hellos from his friends, who gathered around him expectantly. Erin stepped forward and threw herself into a hug, swaying back and forth to prolong it. 

“We missed you, stranger!” she said, laughing at the choir of agreement that erupted from his other friends. Clint and Graham held hands as they waved hello, indicating that Clint really did move on from Rory, who excitedly clasped hands with Ajay. Skye waved a small greeting from her seat at the breakfast bar, still dressed in the dark colors that he remembered her for. Casey called his name from the open kitchen, showing off his cooking skills by flipping a pancake while keeping a conversation up with him. He felt awkward with so much attention on him, but at the same time, he was upset that the one person he wanted to be close to and let ask him invasive questions was refusing to even get near him. Ajay was led to a booth where everyone crowded around him, questioning him about New York and his fancy film school, intent on squeezing every ounce of information out of him. 

“Is everyone there super stylish? You’ve changed a lot from last Christmas, Ajay,” Erin prodded, referring to his outfit that didn’t seem to belong in southern Oregon. He laughed and took his jacket off, feeling hot under the inquisitive gazes of his previous classmates. 

“I showed up to the first day and immediately felt out of place, so my roommate helped me out.”

“What’s your roommate like?!” Rory asked, leaning their head on their hands to listen. 

“Oh, his name’s Nikael. He’s, uh, more into photography. But he’s really cool! You’d like him.”

“What’s the dating scene like?” Ajay’s head whipped to his right and he nearly fell out of the booth in his haste to stand, towering over Bailey as she looked up at him with a blank stare. The entire diner fell quiet, intent on watching what would happen between the two. 

“I…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. He searched his mind for a response that wouldn’t lead her down the wrong path, but he couldn’t find one. “How’ve you been?” 

“Avoiding the question? You don’t need to spare my feelings, Ajay.” She crossed her arms and gave him a cold smile that lasted a split second, but its effects lasted far longer. He struggled to respond when she turned away from him to call out to Casey, who was loading batter into a waffle iron. Ajay suddenly noticed that she had changed from her uniform into normal clothes that made his heart ache, wishing that he could say a word. Instead, all he could do was watch helplessly as she spoke to her brother. “I’m clocking out, Case!” She walked to the door and opened it, ignoring the bell that loudly rang in favor of sending him a glance over her shoulder. 

“Bailey, I--”

“Welcome back, Ajay.”

[nelvana]

In which the god of space is met

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which part of a curse is broken Previous: In which the dungeon of space is explored

Warning! This chapter has descriptions of blood and stronger depictions of violence! Reader discretion is advised.

   Dialga gasped as they hit the ground, landing on their side, but they barely felt that pain. This fall was barely a pinprick compared to the deep claw marks in their skin, dented and torn armor, and bruises that would only grow to feel worse when this encounter was over. But even that was nothing, nothing compared to how their throat throbbed from their yelling and screaming, to how their pounding heart ached and cried out for their friend. Tears clouded their vision, making the dark caverns appear fuzzy and almost dream-like in how the light refracted in the water in their eyes.

   How had everything gone so wrong?

   The beginning started out alright, as alright as something like this could go. Once all those from Team Galaxy and allies had jumped through the portal, Dialga paused, and then went right away to readjusting the portal for themselves. They wished that it would be as simple as to allow everyone to skip the dungeon, but there was no sense in arguing against how their powers connected for portal making; it was simply easier to transport themself and Celebi, and arguably Ceebee as well, but they knew she would want to stay with her friends, directly through, but taking mortals would cause problems.

   “Well… here we go,” Dialga had murmured to Celebi, who still fluttered beside the larger pokemon.

   Celebi had simply nodded, but to Dialga’s surprise, then they smiled softly.

   “I am glad to be fighting for the world’s balance by your side,” Celebi told them.

   And that, that alone gave Dialga so much more confidence. Maybe things could be alright. They could bring Palkia to their senses, and finally, finally Dialga and Celebi could enjoy the future together without any worries. Dialga smiled back, thanking their partner and returning the sentiment, before stepping through their portal. Once Celebi was safely across, Dialga closed the portal behind them.

   At the back of their mind, Dialga worried about how long it would take the others to complete the dungeon, and what state they would be when they did come out, but Dialga knew that they had promised to help weaken Palkia until the group arrived, and they were committed to that promise.

   How had everything gone wrong? How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

   Palkia… was not open to negotiation, as expected. Part of Dialga had still hoped though, hoped that they had not been too late for that option to be completely gone. Palkia was, at first, furious to see Celebi and Dialga arrive, blaming them for bringing back the “anomalies”. However, afterwards they offered the pair a chance to team up, to destroy the “anomalies” together and “fix” the world’s balance. Trying to explain that Palkia was wrong, trying to negotiate, only brought the space god to the conclusion that Celebi and Dialga were enemies to them again, and thus Palkia charged into battle, starting the actual fight far sooner than Dialga would have hoped for.

   Palkia wasted no time in utilising their signature move, as they glowed, glowing pink and orange before releasing a pink crescent-shaped blade of energy from their arm at the pair, tearing apart the cavern and space around it to utilize the attack. Dialga growled, acting swiftly to counter the spacial rend with their own signature attack, charging up a beam of energy and blasting it at their sibling’s attack, reversing time and repairing the damage of the area in the process.

   “I’ll back you up,” Celebi had told them quietly.

   The pixie pokemon darted away so fast that Dialga couldn’t keep track of where they had disappeared off to; though this didn’t worry them, they knew they could trust Celebi. Sure enough, it hadn’t been long before several whirlwinds of bladed leaves were sent out at Palkia, scratching the hide of the legendary, who let out a sharp hiss.

   The battle only started well. It only started that way. Palkia only seemed to grow stronger as their body glowed a stronger and stronger burning red-orange and the parts that didn’t grow began darkening as they lose control over themself to going primal.

   Plus, typing wise, Dialga only had dragon-type moves for super-effective damage against Palkia, and their best move for that was their roar of time, which often missed the target completely. Celebi, unlike Ceebee, did not know dazzling gleam, and could only deal neutral damage to Palkia. Palkia themself, however, knew just the right moves to counter both Dialga and Celebi. Dialga resisted many types, but was severely weak to fighting-type moves, so Palkia made sure to make use of the aura sphere attack, which never missed. Palkia didn’t have any type advantages on Celebi, but the size of any attack coming from the space god was hard to dodge and dealt immense damage, and though Palkia already seemed slightly distracted in the heat of the battle, they still seemed to know enough to choose the right moves to target the mythical with.

   Celebi and Dialga had put up a good fight, but now, Dialga weakly wondered if that really mattered in the end.

   Celebi was dead. Their body, discarded just across the room in such a direct way that while Dialga lay prone on the ground they could not turn their gaze away no matter how much they wished to. It had been a swift end, gored by Palkia’s teeth, leaving their corpse in an almost unrecognizable state from being bitten from something so much larger than them. What could be recognized as the same green that had once been bright, were dulled and wilted, like a leaf in autumn.

   Dialga’s throat felt like it was swelling up as they gasped out another sob. Celebi died, died to Palkia as they had to Primal Dialga in the dead timeline; by the teeth of a primal after opposing them.

   How Dialga had been so happy for Celebi’s second chance when the meteor had been destroyed. Guilt constantly ate away at them once they were aware of themself again for killing their friend in the other timeline, despite not being in complete control of their own actions, and Dialga had vowed to make things right for Celebi again now that time had been altered. Celebi had not lived as long in this timeline as the other, but would they have been happier? To have less days where they could see bright colors and the warmth of the rising sun, than to have more days in a dark world of despair? Dialga didn’t know, and they would never know for sure now.

   Did Celebi know that they wouldn’t make it out of this fight? Dialga was certain that the pixie had attempted singing the perish song, right before being cut off by their untimely death and failing to set up the move. It was hard to piece together the exact memory now between the pain, but if that were the case, Dialga supposed it could have been a good strategy, only as a last resort to knock out the legendaries, but it would have killed Celebi in the end anyway. They didn’t even get that sacrifice now.

   Suddenly, Dialga was torn out of their thoughts as Palkia shoved their upper body weight onto them, pinning them to the ground. Dialga hadn’t even felt the willpower, much less the energy, to get back up again before then, but if they were to try, they had just lost their window to do so.

   “How the mighty have fallen,” Palkia hissed, leaning down to Dialga’s face to utter their twisted words. “You tried to STOP ME! And you have FAILED! Don’t worry, dearest sibling… I will FIX everything, FIX what you wanted to DESTROY. You may hate me now, but you’ll understand later, you’ll SEE! YOU’LL SEE! I am only trying to do what is RIGHT! I will SAVE us all!”

   Dialga could only choke out a weak cough in response. They wanted to argue, but their heart ached and their throat was still sore and Palkia’s claws digging into their neck didn’t help.

   “SAY SOMETHING!” Palkia demanded, “is that it? You’re just going to GIVE UP?” they snapped, digging their claws deeper into Dialga’s skin. “FINE. That makes this easier for me. You will thank me later for this.”

   “They won’t thank you! You aren’t fixing anything!” Ceebee cried out, flying out from the shadows as she rounded the corner to enter the room of the fight.

   “You brought OTHERS here?” Palkia shrieked at Dialga, who could only desperately stare out at the other celebi, the shiny one not their Celebi but the next celebi generation afterwards.

   Ceebee didn’t react to the corpse of Celebi, though she seemed already aware of it despite not even looking at it. She knew Celebi was dead the very moment it happened; had she not been brought back to existence then this would have been her birth in this timeline. So, she stubbornly did not look down at the body, as to not scare herself at the sight.

   As the rest of the group entered, however, it was hard not to look at their fallen ally. Dialga’s stomach only seemed to twist further at the audible reactions of horror, and how the concern and fear and confusion was all brought together only to see Dialga pinned against the very pokemon they were supposed to beat.

   “YOU BROUGHT THE ANOMALIES HERE? HERE, in MY domain?” Palkia roared.

   “They aren’t… anomalies,” Dialga wheezed, doing their best to lift their head defiantly.

   Palkia let out a low growl, watching as everyone entered, though fortunately, the legendary did not attack them straight away, and only studied them for a few moments, unintendedly giving them time to take in the scene in front of them instead of being caught off guard by being involved in battle right away.

   “You will be stopped,” Dialga continued, twisting their gaze to stare Palkia in the eyes.

   Palkia laughed, “by WHO? These MORTALS and ANOMALIES you have brought with you?” they sneered, turning to meet Dialga’s gaze again.

   “By them, yes. By them or by Arceus. You know that they will not stand for this, you are destroying the balance that holds space together,” Dialga responded, baring their teeth boldly.

   “By ARCEUS?” Palkia repeated, something unfamiliar crossing their expression. “Do you REALLY think they will come to help YOU? Arceus will never arrive here! You know WHY? You know WHY Arceus cannot come to stop ANY of us?” they yowled, “Arceus is DEAD!”

   Dialga paled, and they could already feel their throat tighten again and head spin.

   “You’re lying,” they managed to hiss back.

   “I’M NOT! WHY DO YOU THINK THEY NEVER SHOWED UP WHEN YOU SENT THE WORLD INTO DARKNESS FOR CENTURIES?” Palkia cried out, their rage melting momentarily into something far more desperate and mournful. “I SAW IT MYSELF AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE AND I COULD ONLY WATCH AND DO NOTHING!” they howled, eyes welling up. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING! ARCEUS IS GONE AND I’M THE ONLY ONE TRYING TO FIX THINGS!”

   For what felt like ages, Dialga could only stare blankly back at Palkia. The illusion vision they had been warned about… had already happened, long in the past it seemed. How could Dialga have not known before? In hindsight, it made sense, it made sense that that was why Arceus had never helped fix things in the dead timeline, but Dialga still could not wrap their head around the idea. Arceus had always been there, the only being to have come before them being Mew themself. Legendaries of their kind had never died before at any point in history, and the idea that something out there could kill gods of this power sounded both impossible and terrifying.

   And yet, and yet, the raw tone in Palkia’s voice, the heartbroken look in their eyes… Dialga knew they were being honest, that this wasn’t something they had been tricked to believe as a strange result of beginning to turn primal.

   “How… How did they die?” Dialga asked quietly, finding themself looking at Palkia with a far gentler expression than they had in a long time. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.”

   Palkia turned away, screwing their eyes tightly shut in an attempt to rid them of the tears that had sprung up during their outburst. They swallowed a breath, hiccupping slightly as they seemed to consider what to say. As they did this, the weight pushing Dialga lessened slightly, making them wonder if maybe this could be it, if they could turn things around.

   Finally though, Palkia looked back down at Dialga, and though it was hard to see at their angle, Dialga could make out their sibling’s face turn into a scowl.

   “You cannot help. Not anymore. I will deal with this… You are fortunate you cannot die… at least not by me, not that I would want that, I still need you, but… I at least need you out of my way for now, which I can do,” Palkia grumbled.

   With that, Dialga felt dagger sharp teeth sink around their throat. They struggled feebly for a few moments, eyes widened in horror, but it didn’t take long for their eyes to shut and body to go limp as darkness overtook them.

   Palkia stood up, stepping back from their unconscious and wounded sibling and looking down at their handiwork. After simply staring at Dialga for a few moments, they opened a hole in space below the god of time, dropping them into the void and sealing the tiny portal behind them, sending Dialga off to some unknown place in the Spacial Rift. There were a few quiet gasps from the group, though Ceebee was quick to assure them through telepathy that Dialga had not been moved far.

   Finally, Palkia turned back to the group, licking the blood from the lips, smearing the crimson liquid on their face instead of cleaning it in a few spots. Their orange eyes were sharp as they stared down at the group, and glowed dimly in the darkness of the cave.

   “I suppose…” Palkia began, “…that having you here isn’t THAT bad. I can REMOVE the ANOMALIES easier here MYSELF. Especially seeing as my own allies seem to have FAILED me.”

   At being mentioned, the Lake Guardians cautiously floated out from another corridor and into the room. The ditto trudged along much slower behind them, dragging themself across the ground to join the others. It was evident they had been here for awhile, as at the very least, Ditto could not enter the Spacial Rift on their own and would have had to have been brought here by Palkia before all this, though whatever the quartet had been doing before entering was beyond the party.

   “We apologize, Master Palkia,” Uxie told them, “we failed to locate them before they arrived here, but we returned as quickly as we could to help you; as you know. We were unaware that they would come here to disturb you…”

   Palkia narrowed their eyes, “…I will give you three… you three and that THING you’ve gotten another chance to help me make this RIGHT. This time. But you better not fail me here.”

   “We will not fail you, Master Palkia,” Azelf assured them, bowing slightly towards the legendary.

   “Good,” Palkia growled back, barely glancing at the trio floating beside them.

   Turning to focus on the group again, Palkia let their gaze wash over the eight pokemon momentarily before smiling and speaking again.

   “There are… MORE of you than I need to REMOVE. Though only…” They trailed off, eyes darting from ‘mon to ‘mon, and then a second time as if Palkia had forgotten how to count. “…only four of you that are here are PROBLEMS.” They focused their gaze on Ceebee for a moment. “I suppose now that that other celebi is gone, YOUR existence isn’t as PARADOXAL. So, let’s save some trouble, Celebi, Torchic, Absol, and Duskull, if you wish to LEAVE now, no harm will come to you. If you choose to stay and fight with these ANOMALIES, we will be forced to REMOVE you with them,” Palkia offered.

   Keahi, though with shaking legs after what zie had already witnessed, stepped forward and held zirself high, glaring against the powerful being with only a stubborn determination that burned in zir eyes.

   “We’ll never leave them! They are our friends, not anomalies, and we will prove it to you!” zie yelled.

   Tsuki stepped up beside the torchic, “they are not what causes the imbalance of the world, you are. We will fight you to fix the disasters that have befallen this world.”

   “Y-Yeah! We didn’t come this far to just give up here!” Edgar added, voice wavering slightly, though he did not back down. “We aren’t going to abandon our friends!”

   Ceebee’s expression hardened, “what you’re doing here is wrong, Palkia. You may not see it, but your ‘help’ is only tearing everything apart further. We’ve already seen it firsthand.”

   The four of them stood in front of their remaining allies, staring defiantly up at Palkia and their own allies. They were well aware of the risks, but they knew that before coming here. Seeing Dialga and Celebi both fail to come close to beating Palkia had certainly hammered that home, but at least that pair had weakened this legendary. They weren’t going to suddenly turn around now, even with the stakes displaying so horrifically in front of their faces. Behind them, the other four felt a newfound confidence at being backed up.

   Palkia snarled back at them, “you are all FOOLISH! I offered you a chance to SURVIVE and you choose to stay and DIE? You will all DIE for the wrong side? Dialga is foolish too; they have lied to you. I am FIXING everything! You are all only RUINING what I am trying to FIX! All for what? FRIENDS? You are FOOLS! I offered you a chance and you THREW IT AWAY!” they snapped, and then seemed to calm slightly. “Fine, you’ve made your choice. We will offer no mercy now!”

   “We expect that, and will offer you none either,” Ceebee growled, eyes and antennae already glowing with intent.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which part of a curse is broken Previous: In which the dungeon of space is explored

[azwriting]

Heyy :3 Could you write a little imagine where the reader grew up with kylo and is super scared of the dark so kylo always held her hand when she got scared. Sometimes, when he finds himself in a dark place, his hand twitches a little, urging to grab her small hand and tell her it’s fine, but she’s not there. He thinks about how much she must hate him, being the supreme leader of the dark side.

As Night Falls (Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Kylo Ren is haunted by memories of his youth everytime he closes his eyes.

Warning(s): Angst, Kylo wallowing, unedited

Word Count: 1398

He was exhausted, his life force practically drained from him as he stalked towards his quarters. Kylo was stripped to the bone from all the endless hours of running the First Order and the never ending conflict that threatened to tear his soul in half each and every moment of the day. He only wished for a moment of silence, where the voices and memories that plagued him would cease entirely. Yet, he could never come across such a state. It was his personal torment to continue to be encompassed by such overwhelming emotions.

In his quarters, the blinding white light burned his reddened eyes and he winced shutting them immediately. Blindly he felt around for the control panel, dimming the fluorescents to nothing. Darkness enclosed his room but Kylo kept his heavy eyelids shut as he pulled off layer after layer of black clothing. Without a care he dropped each piece to the shining floors, losing them in the darkness as well, one thought circling in his mind. Bed. He opened his eyes and was met only with black, his right hand twitching involuntarily as if he expected to find a smaller hand slipping into his. Kylo was only met with stale circulated air and he let out a small sigh in response. The words of comfort hanging on the edge of his tongue died as well, leaving a bitter aftertaste. How foolish of him to expect to find such a thing after all these lonely years.

Staggering forward, Kylo made his way down the hall to the confines of his bedroom where a bed too large covered in luxurious black sheets from the finest merchants on Coruscant awaited him. Every inch of his aching body craved sleep, a sense of tranquility, however false it was, but he knew he would only be greeted by painful remnants of an old life the minute he closed his eyes. Collapsing into bed, he slipped into sleep with ease, but what awaited him was anything but.

The never-ending buzz of life that enclosed around Hanna City hummed through Ben’s small window, easing him into a state of serenity. His mother often complained of the noise, deeply missing the peaceful atmosphere of Alderaan, but Ben rather enjoyed it. It was as if the noise outside helped dull the noise in his head.  He was young, inky black locks messily splayed across one of his pillows, brown eyes watching the horizon. The seemingly distant city was the only source of light in his otherwise pitch black room and he was quite content with that. He enjoyed watching the thousands of others go about their lives in a city that never seemed to sleep.

He was unsure how long he had been observing Hanna when he heard his door shoot open. In a moment of forgetfulness, Ben instantly shut his eyes afraid to be found still awake by his mother, but then his parents’ departure earlier that day resurfaced in his mind. They had gone away on a diplomatic mission, not returning for at least a week. Which meant it could be only one person entering his room at this hour. The sheets ruffled as he turned to face the intruder, young brown eyes searching the dark for the sweet face of his friend. 

“(Y/N).” His voice was low, barely audible over the vivacious buzz slipping through his open window. 

“Ben?” Her voice was small, fear swirling inside of it like one of the colorful cocktails his mother’s fellow senators would use to embellish their already outrageous garbs. Ben exhaled lightly, extending his hand out for his dear friend, waiting for her to find him. (Y/N) was afraid of the dark, something about the pixelated blackness that filled her vision left her feeling uneasy and frightful, as if something menacing clung to the shadows on the night waiting for her.

Ben felt the soft kiss of her skin sliding into his waiting hand and a relief filled sigh echoed through the confines of his room. He was unsure if it had originated from her or him, her presence always quieting his inner turmoil, but he did not question it as he pulled her into the warmth of his bed. Her smaller body shuffled closer underneath his covers, their hands still closely clasped together. It was common for them to find the two in this position, Nola always letting out a small sigh when she would find the spare bedroom empty. 

(Y/N)’s parents were fellow diplomats who often traveled alongside Ben’s parents, leaving the two children behind in the comforts of the Organa-Solo family condo with their nanny, Nola. The two were hardly separated but Ben feared that that would soon change as his parents continued to discuss the possibility of him going off to train with his Uncle. Even at such a young age he did not want to relinquish this comfort, Hanna City was his home with (Y/N) by his side.

 “Thank you for keeping me safe Ben.” A corresponding squeeze to his hand had his eyes flickering over to the young girl. Her eyes sparkled under the city lights, looking to hold an entire world inside of them. His throat felt dry, unable to find the words to convey that he always would keep her safe: from the darkness and the monsters that lurked within. Ben nodded slowly, both of their eyes turning back to watch the horizon.

With a sharp intake of air, Kylo jolted awake each nerve in his body alive and in agony. Sweat clung to his body, his hair stuck to his forehead, and the finest of silk sheets felt damp beneath his fingers. His chest heaved with every staggering breath he took, his conscience spiraling as the memory replayed in his head. He could remember how young and innocent they had been, unaware of the impending heartache. 

Soon after that night, his powers would grow becoming more and more unpredictable with his emotions and he would be forced to leave his only friend to go and train with his uncle. He only saw her a couple more times over the years before he plunged into the Dark, but those memories still stayed with him just as she always would.

Kylo could recall the last time he saw her, both of them having transitioned into young adults. It was the night before he was set to return to the Jedi temple, all those years ago, and yet he could still feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. He could still feel her sweet lips eagerly pressing against his, both of them desperate to convey something they could not yet put into words.

“Maker if I knew you kissed like that, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” 

He could hear her teasing and the lighthearted laugh that had escaped his reddened mouth. Her sinking into his embrace as the night began to swallow the remaining bits of sunlight. He remembered her hot tears when he had said goodbye, promising he would come back to her.

Kylo lifted a trembling hand to rake through his soaked locks, his shoulders beginning to shake from silent sobs. The conflict that raged in him daily seemed to be burning his soul apart, disintegrating each part slowly. He had strayed so far from so many things, broken so many promises, and in return he was all alone. He had left so much behind…

It had been years since he had last saw her, but not a day had gone by that she did not plague his thoughts. He wondered where she was: was she aiding the Resistance or had she left it all behind and settled down with someone she loved, like she had loved him? Kylo never wanted to find out the truth because deep down he already knew the answer. 

She hated him, hated him for abandoning them all and giving into the Dark side, hated him for becoming the Supreme Leader of the First Order. She had to hate him just as he hated himself. A broken sob escaped his shaking lips, the tears soaking his skin as he continued to deteriorate in his self hatred.

 In his distraught state, Kylo could not help but ponder if he could even keep her safe anymore when he was the monster lurking in the darkness.

Taglist: 

@sporkedloser

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 24/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

“Why me?” you asked Balder, trying to keep your voice calm. You’d trained for situations like this.  You’d worked with and grew up around the Avengers.  You knew what you were doing.  You had to get him talking, but you couldn’t let him get angry while he was doing it.  You had to convince him that telling you was what he wanted to do.  It was tricky work and Nat taught workshops on it, which you’d diligently attended well before you got your powers. 

Balder was a much more physically strong than you were, especially when you were without your magic, and you really didn’t want to get hit again.  It wouldn’t do well for you ability to think your way out of this mess.  

The tea wasn’t helping with the swelling and bruise from the hit to your face, or your split lip.  It was only marginally dulling the pain. 

“I did just think you were a little human pet your brother had gotten fond of, at first,” Balder started, as if he didn’t still think you was just a little human. Hell, right now you were just a little human. “But he had bound his soul to yours, so I thought there must be something special about his pet. You are the strongest… super you call them?… that I have ever seen, and trust me, I have met plenty on my journeys. You have gotten even stronger since my darling baby brother shared his powers with you. Once I bind my soul to you as well, then I will not only have all of my powers, and your powers, but also my brother’s,” he explained. You just stared at him in shocked horror. This was bad. And impossible? You’d never heard of such a thing as a double soul bond.  “Of course, things will go so much better for you if you join me willingly. You would be a queen, little pet,“ he ran a hand over your cheek. The same cheek he had already hit once.  You fought not to flinch at his touch, as much as it made your skin crawl.  

You made another stupid-ass decision that you weren’t quite in control of as you acted on instinct and spat in his face. It was extremely satisfying in that moment, especially when he was disgusted by the blood in the spit that hit him in the face. "I’ll never be your ‘little pet’,” you hissed at him with venom in your voice.

Balder sighed over-dramatically, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to clean his face. “You will change your mind,” he told you, sounding really sure on that particular point.  That had you concerned. “And I am benevolent and will forgive you when you do. In the meantime, I do have a couple things to show you," 

He reached for you to haul you to your feet. You let him do so, let him take your weight and reached up as he did, grabbing him by the tunic, as if to steady yourself. A moment later, you drove your knee into his manhood as hard as you possibly could. He threw you away from him as he howled in pain. He thought you’d been to weak to consider such an action.  You reached automatically for your dagger sheath, but it was gone. 

Shit. 

You rolled to your feet anyway, looking for anything you could use as a weapon. Balder recovered too quickly and rushed you. You tried to get out of the way, but he was too fast and despite all your training, you were outmatched. He grabbed the chain between your wrists and held it above your head against one of the walls, holding you off of your feet. He held up your dagger sheath in his other hand, holding it tauntingly as you squirmed to get free to no avail.  "You do not need claws, little kitten, you are too much trouble without them. But I found that my brother enchanted this little token well. If it strays too far from you, it will teleport itself back to your possession.” That was good to know and could come in handy later. “Come, I have a gift for you, pet,” he bid. He set you back on your feet, his hand still firmly around the chain between your wrists. He took off quickly and you had to stumble to keep up so you didn’t get dragged behind him.

He dragged you through the mansion you were in and you struggled to keep up with his long stride. So much so that you couldn’t focus on anything else.  You ended up in a vault that he had to unlock to enter. “I have been collecting powers for a long time now. Some have been given up willingly, others…not so much, but I have the perfect one to gift you with.” That sounded ominous. You struggled against him, but his grip was too tight and wasn’t loosening. The vault you were in had an entire wall that was filled with shelves and shelves of different colored glowing spheres. There was a hook in the wall across from the glowing spheres that was perfectly positioned so that when he flipped the chain between your wrists over it, you were forced to stand on your toes to keep contact with the ground. “I will gift you with other powers, when you decide to join me, but for now…” he wandered the wall of spheres and pulled one that was a glowing sickly lime green color. You realized that all of the spheres were powers he had 'collected’. There must have been at least a hundred in that room. “This one will be perfect, and my darling brother will not want you any longer once you have it,” he added as he came back over to you. 

You tried to get away, tried to get the chain off of the hook on the wall. You knew whatever he was doing, it would be bad. Really bad. 

But it was no use, there was no escaping without your powers.

He placed the sphere against your chest and whispered a couple of words so softly that there was no chance that you could hear them. The sphere flashed, then disappeared into your chest. You opened your mouth to protest, but he clapped a hand over your mouth. “I would not do that,” he warned. He gestured to one of the servants in the room. “You would not want to kill the poor staff here. That power lets you knock people out with the slightest whisper, or kill of course. It can also break glass, I have heard. The poor girl who had it before you did not want it, because it cannot be controlled or stopped. It is, however, also completely ineffective on me, since all of these powers have attuned to me since I have taken control of them. Don’t believe me? Whisper hello to that nice man,” he gestured to the servant.

You couldn’t help it. You had to know. So you did as you were told as another servant also walked into the room. You whispered a hello and both servants collapsed to the ground, blood leaking form their ears. 

You felt the tears running down your cheeks before you even realized that you were crying.

“You will never be able to tell my brother again that you love him. He is such a hopeless romantic that he will not be able to stand never hearing your voice again. He will not want you, pet. Give up on him now. He will give you up, but I never will, little pet,” he whispered, as if that was romantic or something.  It was abhorrently disgusting and you wanted to puke.

You were still in shock and horror when he dragged you from the room and down to the basement where he had a small dungeon-like room set up. “I will be back for you, pet, and see how long it takes you to come to your senses,” He tossed you in the room and slammed the door behind you. The room was bare save for a cot-like bed and a toilet. The walls were made of solid cinder blocks, except for the heavy metal door that had slammed behind you. There was a tiny window up too high and too small to be of any use and a small window in the heavy metal door. Balder left immediately. 

You sank on the bed and couldn’t help sobbing hopeless tears.