#the older sister carrying the burdens of the world alone

[khaopybara]

❝But everyone sees me as a perfect girl. I'm the student president. A model student.❞

CIIZE RUTRICHA as ALPHA episode 9 of 23 POINT 5

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Burntout

I got upset and cried, and then I decided to try and write something that I am currently relating too, right now.

Lifes' full of up and downs, and sometimes its' okay to admit that you're not okay.

pairings: lotte wubben-moy x reader, alessia russo x reader

warnings: angst, meh.

The morning sun painted streaks of gold across the training grounds as you took part in another intense training session ahead of the upcoming game at the weekend.

You had joined the team just shy of a few months ago with dreams as big as the stadium in which they were due to play in, but beneath the facade of determination, you carried a weight that threatened to crush your spirit.

With each day that passed, you felt like the pressure mounted even more. The expectation were high, the scrutiny, the relentless pursuit of perfection - It all bore down on your shoulders like a somewhat invisible burden.

You found it easy to smile for the cameras, laugh along with your team mates jokes but inside, you felt like you were drowning.

There were a few of your team mates who were quick to note your struggles, 2 familiar faces from your past club, Lotte and Alessia, who had sensed the change in your demeanor. Of course they knew you all too well to be fooled by any of the facade you worse so carefully, they were able to see the cracks forming beneath the surface, the fragile threads that held you together.

Lacing up her boots, Lotte exchanged a knowing glance with Alessia, they both understood that something was amiss, something that needed to be addressed before it was too late.

During a break in the training session, Lotte and Alessia decide to approach you, concern etched in their expressions. "Hey, kid. Are you okay?" Lotte asked gently, her voice filled with geninue worry.

Your facade faltered, just for a moment, before you hastily plastered on a smile, "Of course, I'm fine," you replied, your voice a practiced melody of reassurance.

However, your team mates didn't seem entirely all that convinced. You should have known they would see through you and be able to recongise the pain hidden behind your smile.

You failed to keep your act up.

Lotte and Alessia were like 2 big sisters, you weren't that much younger than them, but you adopted the nickname as the kid, they were both fiercely protective of you and fought anyone who vowed to say anything bad about you.

"You don't have to pretend with us," Alessia stepped closer to you, her eyes searching your face, "We know that you're struggling. It's okay to admit it,"

Tears welled up in your eyes straight away as they threatened to spill over, the dam that you had built around your emotions was crumbling and you could no longer hold back to the flood any longer.

With a shaky breath, you finally let go of the facade that you had been wearing for so long.

"I'm not... I'm not okay," You whispered, your voice barely above a whimper. "I'm just finding it hard to cope right now, you know? I guess its' hard to try and fake a smile, act happy and that, when I don't feel like I'm truly happy."

"Oh kid," Lotte murmered, enveloping you in her comforting embrace, that Alessia joined in as well, both of them offering silent support as you let your emotions flow freely.

"Listen, Y/N/N, we know that you're finding things difficult here, but it will be okay and eventually, you will get used to it," Alessia said softly. "You've got so much potential, you're going to take the world by storm. We believe in you and your not alone in this anymore."

Lotte nodded in agreement with the blonde, "Less is right there, kid. We're going to be here with you every single step of the way, you can always talk to us about anything at all, remember?" she paused and waited for your response of a nod before she continued. "Your like a sister to the two of us and we hate to see you struggling at all, we love you so much, kid."

As the embrace with the two older girls lingered, the weight on your shoulders slowly began to lift and felt like it was replaced with a sense of relief that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Thank you," You whispered, pulling back slightly both of them, meeting their concerned gazes with newfound determination. "I promise I'll talk to you both and be more open about how I feel from now on. I don't want to keep pretending like everything is okay when its' not."

Lotte smiled softly while her eyes were filled with understanding, "We're here for you, always," she reminded you, her voice unwavering in its' support.

"Together, we'll help you get through this," Alessia rested her hand reassuringly on your shoulder, "You're not alone," she repeated, her voice filled with conviction.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[disneyprincemuke]

i didn't tell you i was scared * fem!driver

perhaps carrying the burden of being the perfect eldest daughter after all these years have its disadvantages as well

pairings: fem!driver and her literal family

notes: don't even get me started on how fuckin long it took me to write this bro and also let's not talk about how bad this one is ok? thanks

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

being back home has always brought about a sense of peace she hasn’t been able to replicate anywhere else. it’s just a different serenity when she’s back under the blankets of the bed she’d grown up in, surrounded by everything that reminded her of being young and innocent.

oh, how she misses the times when it felt like the world was in her hands. how naïve of her to think that if she worked hard, she’d get everything she wanted.

every single word of rejection slowly dug the trenches she’s managed to find herself in lately.

she’s so deep in that she doesn’t think there’s a way out.

she lies on her back, childhood stuffed animals burying her in the blanket. she bores holes in the roof of her room where her glow-in-the-dark stars stare right back at her.

she can almost hear the ghost of her 13-year-old self whining as oscar and logan prop themselves up on her bed to paste them on her ceiling, making fun of her for being too short to do it herself.

it used to be so simple.

there’s soft knock on the door followed bt the creaking of its hinges as it’s pushed open. a head pops in. “can we go to the store?”

“what?” she turns her head towards the door and furrows her eyebrows. “can’t you just take my car and go alone?”

dalton frowns, “is it such a crime to spend time with my very beautiful older sister?”

she raises an eyebrow. “you want me to pay, don’t you?”

“don’t make me sound so feral,” the young boy huffs with a roll of his eyes. “i haven’t seen you in months… come on, let’s do something together?”

“i don’t really…” she sighs as she meets her younger brother’s stare and hopeful smile. “alright, mate, just let me change out of my pyjamas.”

that’s how she finds herself at a convenience store at 2 in the morning, hands in the pockets of one of logan’s old jackets that he left in her parent’s house, slowly sauntering through aisles with a blank stare.

she’s been staring at a box of cereal for a couple of minutes, debating with herself if she should let herself indulge. but lately, it just doesn’t feel like she deserves nice things.

when dalton finds her, he’s got a basket full of snacks and drinks. he stops at the end of the aisle with a puzzled stare and tilts his head. “didn’t see anything you want?”

she smiles, “not really. and i’m supposed to be watching my diet — too much ice cream, noah said.”

which is just another blatant lie. she hasn’t touched a drop of ice cream since matt had packed his bags and left her apartment. she hasn’t even really been eating.

dalton hums, “i guess… let yourself have a cheat day, though.”

she sighs out a soft laugh and slings an arm over dalton’s shoulders. “maybe tomorrow. come on, let’s pay up before mama finds out i let you convince me to drive you out to the store in the middle of the night.”

she rests her head at the foot of her bed, nose-to-nose with kidnapper as he sleeps peacefully on one of her pillows.

“wish my life was as simple as yours,” she mutters, running her finger along the cat’s nose. “wish i could sleep all day and be adored like you, kid.”

she glances at her phone, lying peacefully on her side table next to the bed. it’s been going off with constant text messages for the past 5 minutes, most from logan and oscar asking about her parents’ anniversary party, and some from matt.

she can’t get herself to pick up the phone and answering feels like such a daunting task. she can’t find the right words to type out and send out as an acceptable response.

“hey,” the door opens and her mother’s head pops in, “busy?”

she lifts her head and smiles slightly. “what do you need me to do?”

“can you pick up the decorations from town? it’s pre-ordered, so you just gotta pick it up. then maybe could you bring home some dinner?” her mother flashes her a sheepish grin, obviously hoping that she would say yes.

“can’t you get dalton to pick it up? i’ll let him use my car if that’s what you’re worried about,” she offers with a small, unnoticeable scowl on her face. her plan for the entire day was to simply lie in her bedroom and do absolutely nothing.

her day simply isn’t complete unless she’s wallowed in self pity.

“he’s barely permitted to drive a car with an adult in the passenger seat,” her mother sighs. “come on, please? i’ll make you your favourite breakfast tomorrow.”

“really? it has to be me?”

“you’ve locked yourself in your room the 2 days you’ve been back,” her mother sighs again with the shake of her head. “i thought you came home early to help around.”

“i came back early to spend my break here. that doesn’t mean anything about helping around,” she complains, yet she’s scrambling to get herself off her bed. she knows better than to get into this sort of argument with her mother — it’s simply not going to be worth it. “but if it has to be me…”

she gets up and drops kidnapper off in dalton’s room. she changes out of her day-old pyjamas and heads to town where her mother had asked her to go.

all the while cursing under her breath about having so much to do on her supposed break. she’d only driven herself back ahead of her parents’ anniversary party to give herself a break from the fast-paced nature of london.

that and the refusal to go back to her apartment when it no longer felt like home.

but she does all that her mother asks of her anyway because her mother says so.

“you need to eat more, my love.” she watches her mother stand from her position on the dinner table and pick up a bowl of noodles. “you look like you haven’t been eating at all.”

“mama,” she tries to protest with a sigh, shaking her head as she tries to push away the bowl from her plate. “i’m not very hungry.”

her mother is insistent. she shakes her head with a soft huff, scooping out a bunch of noodles and putting it on the plate in front of her. “you need to eat more than you’re eating.”

she lets out an irritated sigh and turns to her father, sat next to her mother, for some sort of words to help her. but he just shrugs at her with an apologetic smile.

“i just want you to look like yourself again,” her mother sighs, pinching her cheek tenderly with a small smile. “you’ve had a tough year.”

she scoffs, dropping her head to toy with the noodles on her plate. of course, she uses her shit of a season to justify being an overbearing figure in her life. she would have been more tolerant of it — as she’s been her entire life — but it’s just not a good time for this behaviour right now.

“fine, whatever.”

she glances down the hallway for anyone who would catch her before she opens the door. she’s greeted by 2 beds and an empty room, but an overwhelming familiarity of friendship. a friendship that she’s strayed so far from that it barely makes sense for her to be standing in this bedroom.

on top of the dresser is a framed picture of her, oscar and logan at a karting track in the earlier days of their karting days together. she stands between the boys, oscar and logan leaning into her with their lips pressed against either side of her cheeks.

on the beds, she can see the 3 of them cuddled up together when she was 14 seeking help from the older boys with her homework.

if she thinks hard enough, she sees her 15-year-old self on oscar’s bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin with logan and oscar squeezing in the other bed in the room when she’s having trouble sleeping by herself.

in the far corner of the room, she can see herself at 16 curled up on the floor after her first boyfriend had broken up with her. and oscar walks in with a small scowl but 3 pints of ice cream for them to share while they try to distract her of the pain.

the room’s been cleaned and polished by her mother, preparing for oscar and logan’s return for their anniversary party this weekend.

she makes a sharp turn for the cabinet at the side of the room, pushing through hangers of jackets and sweaters hanging neatly, untouched for god knows how long. she sighs when a familiar red jacket comes into view.

“i told mama this is mine,” she grumbles under her breath, pulling the jacket out of the cabinet. it’s a ferrari jacket that oscar had gotten from his parents when he was younger, but since he’d outgrown it, she’d claimed it for herself.

“oh, there you are.”

she turns around, with a heavy heart and teary eyes, and comes face-to-face with her father. “hey.”

“i’ve been looking all over for you,” he sighs heavily, stepping into the room with caution. “i just wanted to check in on you after what happened during dinner. you know mama meant well.”

she grins with a slight nod. “yeah, i know.”

“and we’re just concerned for you.” he wraps an arm around her and rests his chin on top of her head. “after the year you’re having… we’re all concerned for you.”

“concerned?” she repeats under her breath, looking up at her father. “regarding what? i’m doing fine.”

“personally, i’m just concerned because you’re my princess,” he mumbles, giving her a squeeze. “and you know… i’m your father? i know if something’s wrong, but it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it yet.”

she lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing in his arms. she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest, “thanks for not making me talk about it.”

she throws her head back, trying to pull back the hand that’s clasped in dalton’s hands, yanking her towards the garage of the house.

“come on,” dalton mutters, “we’ll have so much fun! just like before!”

“dalton, i told you i didn’t feel like leaving the house today,” she whines, trying another attempt at pulling her hand back from him. “i have some things to settle with my finances and schedule… i’ve put that off for a couple days and kristen and noah need those by tonight.”

“i’m sure it can’t take that long,” dalton whines with a heavy sigh, tugging on her arm. “just a quick movie in at the theatre then a cup of ice cream?”

“dalton, come on, i said i don’t have the time for this!” she shrieks, yanking her arm back and stomping a foot on the ground. “i’ll pay for you to go with a couple of friends, but i can’t go with you. i have adult matters to handle before the week is over.”

dalton blinks at her, shocked at her sudden outburst. “i just wanted to spend time with you before you go off and not come home for months… i’m sorry.”

she opens her mouth to add to her previous statement, but seeing her younger brother with a frown on his face instantly felt like a pierce through her heart. “i– dalton,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i just have so much going on right now. maybe we can go a little later? i just need to finish a couple of things for my team.”

“it’s alright,” dalton sighs dejectedly, shaking his head. he walks past her to head for the stairs. “maybe next time when you’re not being a bitch anymore.”

“what the fuck,” she mutters with eyebrows furrowed, turning around with her gaze following his steps. “you did not just say that.”

“what?” dalton whirls around. “it’s true. you’ve been such a bitch since you came back. you lock yourself inside your room, you never wanna talk to me, you never wanna join me for snacks, it takes me extra effort just to convince you to come out of the house and do stuff with me… you changed, mate.”

she takes a deep breath. “of course, you don’t understand. you’re just a 16-year-old — you don’t fucking know anything.”

“i know my sister,” dalton scowls. he rolls his eyes and scoffs with a dry laugh. “sorry, i mean i used to know my eldest sister. nowadays, you just ignore my texts, never return my calls and never wanna hang out. you’re a flake, rocky.”

“and you’re just a fucking kid, why should i take anything you say seriously? what do you know about anything that’s outside of your stupid video games and secondary school?” she huffs. “and what do you know about what’s going on with me? that’s not fair.”

“i’m not talking to someone who’s not open to criticism.” he glances at her over his shoulder one more time before running up the stairs. “get a grip, mate.”

“hey, i heard you were back early.” the front door closing echoes in the house, ciara putting her backpack down next to the shoe rack.

the other girl sits on the couch, attention unwavering to the tv show she’s put on to watch. “yeah. hi.”

“i bought you dinner on my drive home from campus.” ciara skips over to the couch happily, leaning down on the back of the couch her older sister sits on. ciara turns her head to grin at her. “from the chinese restaurant. i got you some noodles and wanton.”

“oh, thank you.” she turns her head with a small grin and a soft eye, eyes stinging with every blink. “welcome home, ara.” she pulls ciara in for a short side hug and presses a kiss on her cheek. “how’s uni?”

“it was alright,” ciara shrugs. “join me for dinner?”

she hums, returning her attention to the tv screen. “maybe not; i’m still full from the lunch i had. but thank you for getting me dinner.”

“you’re home!” dalton appears at the top of the stairs with a big grin. “did you get me my fried rice?”

“of course!” ciara beams, beckoning him down towards the dining table. “help me set up the table. rocky’s still full from lunch. it’s just us, come on.”

dalton hops over to the kitchen with ciara, not sparing his eldest sister another stare. so she just turns off the tv and runs back to her bedroom.

“oh. i didn’t know it was such a sensitive topic,” her mother shrugs with a soft chuckle. “i was just curious because you said matt was going to be here for the party this weekend and suddenly he’s not.”

the girl shrugs, keeping her stare on the plate. “yeah, but i really don’t wanna talk about him right now.”

“come on, just concerned for your relationship.” she clenches her jaw, feeling a knot form in her throat as she lifts her eyes to meet her mother’s stare across the table. “did something happen?”

“no,” she lies with a small grin. “he’s just got some things to settle back in the states. he’s just busy.”

“or maybe he realised you were a bitch,” dalton mutters under his breath.

“dalton,” ciara warns through gritted teeth, hitting dalton on the shoulder very gently. “what the hell?”

“what? it’s true,” dalton mutters. “you know that more than i do.”

“that’s enough,” her father speaks up. “let’s just eat dinner, okay?”

“no, my love,” a whine comes from behind her, “you put it up wrongly.”

the girl on the top of the ladder looks over her shoulder and meets her mother’s judgemental stare and disappointed frown. “you literally told me to put it here, mama.”

“put it up higher, no– like– i’ll just do it.” her mother offers her a reassuring smile and beckons her to get down from her position.

“no, it’s so dangerous for you to be up here,” she mutters, attempting to readjust the wall decorations to her liking. “just tell me where to put it.”

“you’re,” her mother pauses, “not doing it right. just come down and let me do it.”

she huffs and drops her hands. “fine.”

she climbs down the ladder, folding her arms over her chest as she watches her mother replace her.

“see? isn’t that better.”

but she swears it’s exactly the way she’d put it up just a moment ago.

“is this what you’re going to do the entire time you’re here? just mope in your room with your cat?”

she lifts her head from her pillow and turns, resting her head again as she stares at her mother standing at the door. “is this really how you want to start the day?”

“it’s noon. the day started almost 3 hours ago.” her mother leans on the door frame of her bedroom. “you have to get up and do something. locking yourself up in here,” she pauses to look around the kiddish bedroom, “it won’t make you feel any better.”

“i just have a lot going on,” she mumbles, flipping herself to face the other side of the room. “i’ll come down in a while. i just need a couple minutes.”

“oh, my god, mama!” her voice echoes in the empty house, running down the steps with her mother following shortly behind her. “stop asking me about matt! i don’t want to talk about him right now!” she turns around at the bottom of the steps. “not with you; not with anyone!”

“i’m just trying to give him an answer, my love! he’s concerned for you. he said you haven't answered his messages all week,” her mother reprimands with her hands on her hips.

“that’s between matt and i and you have no say in this, sorry.” she raises her hands in the air to surrender before walking away. “it’s just none of your business.”

she’d just been relaxing in her room by herself when her mother came in trying to make conversation. she’d been receptive at first until she realised that she was trying to get her to talk about matt again.

which, she’s just not ready to open up about yet.

“it is if you’re acting this way! locking yourself in your room all day… fighting with dalton? don't even get me started on the way you can’t even clean up after yourself — you’re an adult now.”

“i’m an adult, yeah, so let me deal with my fucking problems however i see fit!” she laughs dryly and turns to face her mother again. “can i have some room to breathe? please? without everyone following closely behind me and staring at me like i’m pathetic?”

“we don’t think you’re pathetic!”

“i see the sorry in your eyes when you look at me! everyone seems to be looking at me that way lately!”

“my l–”

“just please leave me alone!”

so she gets in her car and drives away. she doesn’t know how long she drives for, tears in her eyes and chest heaving in sobs.

but she finds herself at the park nearby, one that she used to frequent with oscar and logan after school. she parks her car right by the roadside and forces herself onto the empty playground. she sits on the slide for hours until she feels slightly better.

she pushes the front door open with a heavy sigh. the sadness of pulling up in the driveway of her house worries her. it’s like the sadness seems to find a way to follow her everywhere.

everywhere she goes, it’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging above her head and she doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“where have you been?” ciara’s voice startles her, sending her a step back. “we’ve been worried sick for you after you left so abruptly before dinner! you weren’t even picking up your phone!”

“i just needed some time alone,” she says with a heavy sigh. she closes the door behind her and slips out of her shoes. “i was just at the playground i used to go to with logan and oscar. think i left my phone in my bedroom before i left and i went to grab dinner–”

“seriously? you’re not even sorry?” ciara screams, throwing her arms in the air. “we’ve been so worried sick for you since you walked out for no reason?”

she tilts her head. “no reason? mama has been grilling me about things i don’t want to talk about since i came back.”

“she’s concerned for you! we’re all concerned for you!”

“i didn’t ask for your concern! i’m asking you guys to leave me alone; give me some fucking room to breathe!”

“then why did you come all the way here just to lock yourself in your bedroom? if you want to be left alone, you should’ve just fucking stayed in london where you have an apartment where no one will fucking bother you!”

she huffs, hands on her hips. “fine. i’ll just go back. since it’s such a bother that i’m too sad to be here right now.” she stomps past her younger sister and up the stairs, heading right for her bedroom.

“don’t try and guilt trip me to feel sorry for you!” ciara chases after her. “it’s just not fair that you came all this way to be fighting with every single person in this household! just because blythe’s not here, doesn’t mean you’ll get away with this behaviour!”

“i’m not trying to guilt trip you,” she snarls, grabbing her bag from the ground and shoving her things, sprawled all over her room, into it. “but i’m sorry my feelings are such a burden to you guys. cause personally, i’m not having the best time.”

“if you’re not having the best time, don’t bring us down with you! it’s mama and papa’s anniversary! spend a little time not thinking of yourself for once!”

“i’ve spent my whole life not thinking of myself! you don’t know — you’re just a spoilt brat who got everything she wanted growing up! i actually had to work for the things i wanted.”

ciara scoffs, finally stepping into the room. “who gave you the right to act all high and mighty like you’re better than everyone? being the eldest kid doesn’t mean shit, genius.”

“well, what would you know about being the eldest kid? you never had to take care of anyone besides yourself; you never had to think of anyone but yourself.” she picks up kidnapper, sleeping on the foot of her bed and throws her bag over her shoulder. “just fuck off, ciara.”

“you’re not the only one with problems, you know,” ciara scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “and what, you’re leaving? way to face your problems head-on.”

“i’m leaving because clearly i’m not wanted here,” the older girl sighs, pushing past the girl to her bedroom door. “so let me get out of your hair before my sadness becomes too contagious for your liking.”

“you’re leaving?” blythe says in shock, watching her older sister walk past her without another moment’s hesitation. “but i just got here. and isn’t the part tomorrow?”

“she’s throwing us the dramatics!” ciara announces with a loud laugh, running down the stairs to catch up with her older sister heading right for the front door. “she’s leaving because she can’t face the fact that she could be overreacting this one time!”

“overreacting?” blythe repeats, following both sisters down the stairs. “what are you guys even fighting about?”

“she left for hours with no contact!”

“i don’t even wanna stay long enough for you to paint me to be the villain,” the girl announces, pulling the front door open. “i’m leaving.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics that have an emotionally repressed character in them as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

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(E, 43k, a/b/o) the one where it takes a lot of time for Harry and Louis to figure it out. But they do, they always do, don't they?

✦ Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, a/b/o) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything. It was the best thing for the band, so he doesn’t really regret it except deep in the dead of night, when he bites down on his knuckles to swap the echoing ache of depri for a sting of pain.

✦ Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, a/b/o) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

✦ When the Sun Won't Let You Sleep by @allwaswell16

(E, 30k, Antarctica) Four years ago, Louis Tomlinson left the UK to live on an Antarctic research station for reasons best left in the past.

✦ You Might Want To Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(NR, 24k, grief) When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

✦  the sanctity of patience by @scrunchyharry

(T, 22k, royal au) When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through.

✦ I hope our love burns brightly by fanshae

(T, 8k, magic) Louis Tomlinson can’t really remember ever not noticing Harry Styles. 

—Rare Pairs—

✦ I Had Rather (series) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 261k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick and Louis don't like each other, not even a little bit, not even at all.

✦ You're the Feeling I'm Missing by sheesusnat 

(T, 2k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Something is off, though. Something is missing. Someone is missing.

[apollowhoo]

Yooo what’s upp???? Dude your writing is super gooddddd I was wondering if you could do an eldest daughter of Hades (born early 1900’s and got placed in Lotus Casino, and biologically older too)- and times with her little siblings bonding and growing close with her, like Bianca during the Titans Curse quest, Nico after the Labirynth after Bianca was gone and coming back to camp, and Hazel during the Argo II?(btw if you can can she be apart of the prophecy?)-

Sorry if it’s too long or specific, it’s fine if you want to edit it a little bit- Thank you so muchhh<3333

ELDEST DAUGHTER OF HADES!READER X BIANCA, NICO, HAZEL

omgg this is so interesting, love the idea!! Btw so sorry but i couldnt add the whole prophecy thing:((

The eldest daughter of Hades had lived through the chaos of the early 1900s, trying to survive a world at war, before her fate was stolen away. Trapped in the Lotus Casino, she was frozen in time as the decades slipped by. When she finally got out, the world she knew was gone and so were the people she’d loved. Alone in a strange new era, she found herself drawn to the one thing she still had: family.

Each sibling carrying their burdens, lost in their own way. As the eldest, she felt a deep responsibility to be the sister they needed, even when they didn’t realized it themselves.

Bianca’s Wish

Bianca was brave and strong-willed. When they met, the bond between them was immediate, unspoken yet undeniable. During the quest for Artemis, as they ventured into the unknown, Bianca was torn between her desire for independence and her need for family.

One night, while the others slept under the starry sky, Bianca found her sister sitting by the fire, eyes lost in distant memories. She approached quietly, her expression soft yet curious.

“Do you ever miss it?” Bianca asked, sitting down beside her. “The time you came from?”

The eldest daughter smiled, a bittersweet glint in her eyes. “Sometimes. It was a different world, Bianca. Simpler, but harder in many ways.” She paused, glancing at her little sister.

Bianca stared at the fire, her fingers playing with the zipper of her jacket. “I just… wish I could’ve grown up with you...maybe know you better.”

The eldest sister wrapped an arm around Bianca, pulling her close. “We’re here now, and that’s what matters. You, me, Nico—we’re family, no matter what.”

Bianca leaned into the embrace. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to relax, to trust that someone would be there to catch her if she fell. In that quiet moment, they was nobody; it was just them, finding solace in each other’s company.

Nico's Darkness

Bianca’s death broke Nico. It didn't matter how much time had passed. He was angry, lost, and consumed by a darkness that seemed to grow with each passing second. He pushed everyone away, including his eldest sister, who tried talking it out of him, knowing that she couldn’t force him to heal—he had to find his way back on his own.

But she never stopped trying. One evening at Camp Half-Blood, she sat by the campfire, strumming a tune on her guitar, a melody from her past that had no place in this world. Nico lingered in the shadows, unsure, his expression serious.

“Are you gonna stay there all night, or do you want to join me?” she called, not looking up from her playing.

Nico hesitated before finally slowly coming over and sitting beside her. They didn’t talk about Bianca—Nico wasn’t ready for that. Instead, she began telling him her old memories, half-truths and half-myths about Hades and the strange little moments that made him seem like a normal person then a god.

“He tried to cook once,” she said, grinning slightly at the memory. “It was terrible, of course. Burnt everything. But I’ve never seen him laugh so hard at himself.”

Nico snorted almost in a mocking way. But at the same time, a genuine smile was breaking through the sadness. “Dad? Laughing? That’s hard to imagine.”

The eldest sister gets a little serious “He’s different than you think, Nico. He’s not just the Lord of the Underworld. He’s… complicated. Just like us.”

They sat there for hours, sharing stories that they never told anyone else, all filled with a warmth that Nico had been missing since Bianca’s death. In those moments, he found a piece of himself that he thought was gone forever and he believed that he finally found someone who understood.

Hazel’s Struggle

Hazel Levesque was a wonder to her sister. A girl out of time, so strong yet burdened with the weight of two lives. On the Argo II, the eldest daughter watched Hazel with a mixture of pride and protectiveness, seeing so much of herself in the younger girl.

One afternoon, while the others were busy, Hazel was on deck, practicing her swordsmanship as always. Sweat dripped down her brow, her face set in concentration. But there was a hesitation in her movements, a slight uncertainty, almost like something was bothering her.

“You’re thinking too much,” her sister called, stepping forward. Hazel glanced up, her eyes wide, but she didn’t move. The eldest took the sword from Hazel’s hand, her movements fluid and graceful as she demonstrated.

“Feel it,” she said, her voice encouraging. “You’ve got power, Hazel. You just need to trust it.”

Hazel watched carefully. When she tried again, her sister guiding her hands, it was different. She moved with much more confidence, and for the first time, she felt in control.

Afterward, they sat together, the ship rocking slightly beneath them. Hazel rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “I never thought I’d actually have this. Family. A sister.”

The eldest grins slightly, this was all too familiar to her. She wraps her arm around Hazel. “You’ve got us now. Forever. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

[dancingthesambaa]

The Bubble Has to Pop Eventually

What if Lorelai knocking Molly down left more than leaving her winded? What if it left her with a little more of a serious injury? It was a long drop from a very tall tower after all. Let’s find out shall we?

Naven knew he shouldn’t have let Ms. Blyndeff go to her sister alone, he just knew it. But as much as the girl is kind, she is just as stubborn when she sets her mind on something, even if that something is putting the world on her tiny shoulder so that no one else could shoulder it.

It was too much for a little girl and it wasn’t her responsibility in the first place, but unfortunately, with her family, she was the only one to carry the thankless burden.

She should have never carried the weight.

He should have done more to stop, to persuade her, from trying to talk to her sister. You can only do so much when faced with a brick wall that doesn’t want to tumble, that doesn’t want to listen, but Ms. Blyndeff, oh Ms. Blyndeff, was convinced that she could do it, that she can take that first brick off and have a meaningful conversation with her sister, but life doesn’t work like that and life doesn’t care. And unfortunately, Ms. Blyndeff, the twelve year old child (a child!) understood that more than anyone else. 

And he loathes that.

 But he couldn’t do anything else, sometimes the adults don’t have the answers, so all he could do is comfort the crying child as her older sister (the one who is supposed to care for the younger!) pushed her down the tall tower. And he even couldn’t do that right due to his dreaded pixie form, he could only hold her finger and listen to her quieted hiccups and sniffles. He watched as she made eye contact with him and even a  more apologetic look spread across her face as if she had wronged him.

She could never.

“Sorry,” she apologized when she never needed to. “Sorry,” the poor girl croaked out once more. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go fix it,” it was at that moment that made the usually soft spoken CEO want to curse out a seventeen year old girl, but he stayed silent as he watched the poor twelve year old stand up…and stumbled.

“Whoa, guess the fall took more out of me,” she muttered as she swayed upon her shaky deer legs.

“Ms. Blyndeff, I think you need to sit down,” Naven flew up and as he drew closer, he noticed that her eyes weren't focused. It almost looked dazed as if she was lost in a hypnotic trance.

“I’m fine, I need to do this,” she urged and attempted to take another step, but faltered and took a knee as a sharp pain raced up her right leg. “Ow!”

“Ms. Blyndeff!”

“Molly!” 

‘Oh right, I forgot he was here,’ thought Molly as she felt Rick, still in lizard form, climb down from her head and crawl onto her shoulder.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she tried to reassure them, but she supposed that it didn’t help as she saw black spots in her vision for a brief second. ‘What’s happening?’

“You need to sit down,” the green pixie tried to persuade her as he put a hand on her other shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“Tell that to your bleeding head,” Rick tightly said.

“Wha-”

“Pardon me,” Naven quickly flew to the back of her head, and there indeed were blood splotches staining the innocent star accessories as they trickled down her neck.

“I wondered why the room was spinning,” Molly swayed from side to side like a methodical swing set being pushed by the cold winter breeze. Then she gently touched the back of her head and when she brought it back to her face, she felt like she could throw up when she saw red. “Oh, I guess I am bleeding.”

“Lay down,” Naven ordered her as he quickly flew to one of the ivory satin curtains, ones that weren’t made of sweets thankfully, and ripped it off its peppermint hinges. “Keep this on your head and press tightly,” he urged as set the thin curtains on her head. It wasn’t much, but this was the best he could do at the moment that was safe enough, besides Molly's bear jacket, but she needs that to keep back the cold as the bleeding continues.

(And if another part of him knows that her hoodie was a security blanket then that will be kept solely to himself.)

“Okay,” Molly muttered as she loosely held the curtains up to her head with a pained wince, but that wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t, it was merely a placeholder that was subpar compared to actual medical help, but they could only do so much in this desolated spot, so that meant one thing. 

They needed to get help.

“I’ll watch over her,” Naven looked down from his growing panic and saw Rick with a hard look in his reptilian eyes. “You have those wings on your back and can fly almost as fast as me in the water, except this is not water, but air. You go, I can watch over her, I can do that much.”

“Make sure to keep her awake,” Naven resolutely nodded as he floated down to the injured girl's eyesight. “I’ll be right back Ms. Blyndeff, I just need to get someone for assistance.”

“But I’m fine right? It’s just a little bump in the head, Trixie gets those all the time when she falls off the monkey bars to get away during extreme tag,” She softly said as her face was smooshed against the floor. She would adjust it, but it was already too heavy to carry, and when she moved it made her want to puke something she couldn’t. How could she? She hadn’t eaten since yesterday and she’s been using her Epithet a lot.

Naven hesitated for just a brief moment, before gently talking as if not wanting to startle a wounded leopard cub. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you will be more than okay.” And with one last gentle nudge to her forehead, swiping away some of her loose curls, he shot back up and quickly flew off into the hallway.

He had a teenage brat to find.

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

Rick Shades was many things, he was the wizard extraordinaire, an epithet user, a former (forced) participant of the Colosseum, and an escapee of said Colosseum, but he was no doctor. If he was, he would have helped his friends in the aftermath of the dreaded death matches instead of watching them bleed out and die for the king's entertainment.

(Sometimes he wished he had a healing Epithet, maybe then he wouldn’t have been chosen to compete in the Colosseum.)

But none of that right now can help Molly, except to try to keep her awake. So instead, he did what he does best. He talked.

He talked about his pet shark and how he loved to play with him by the reefs. He talked about his past, about how his friends back home were always amazed by his epithet and how their bond was. He talked about the colosseum and how they forgot him. He talked about the battles and how he didn’t want to win, but to make sure the friends he made in the death tournament won instead, so they didn’t have to suffer. He talked about his escape and how he felt the disconnect of their strings in the middle of his escape and how he drowned. And he talks about so much more, but he makes Molly talk, he makes sure to keep her engaged, to keep her focused (to keep her alive).

(“Are you sure they're not your friends? Maybe they're just too far from your range?” She whispered as she curled up in a ball and breathed. Breathing and listening was all she could do, it hurt. It hurts. It hurts.

That made Rick fall silent. Does his Epithet have a range? Did his friends not cruelly prank him for his demise?… He can think about that later)

“You know,” he says as he nudges her cheek, making sure to let her know he is still there. “My name isn’t Rick Shades.”

“It isn’t?” She croaked out. 

“No, I don’t like to use it in case I ever fight my friends,” Rick(?) shook his head. 

“Then what is it? I promise we won’t fight,” she weakly held out her blood stained pinky. 

“What are you doing?” He eyed her small pinky with a curious look.

“It’s a pinky promise, one of the strongest kinds of promises there is.”

“Like magic?”

“I like to think it’s like magic.”

A brief moment passed then he scrambled down her arm and wrapped his tail around her pinky. “Then the promise has been made.”

Then unconsciously a small trail of black lighting softly phases through both their bodies and, though not to the naked eye, wraps a small little bow around their souls. 

“I am Toidei Gourami, but my friends called me Odi,” he felt like he could swim to the edges of the ocean when he let that go. Like a heavy shackle had been weighing him down was suddenly unlocked and he was able to gasp for air once more.

“Odi, I-I like that name,” she wetly chuckled. 

“Yeah, so do I,” he choked out the lump in his throat.

“It’s nice to meet you Odi,” the little girl, despite her forced responsibilities and baggage, giggled. 

“It's wonderful to meet me too!” He boisterously laughed before pausing. “Your Epithet Dumb can take away things correct? Will it be able to make the wound disappear?” 

“No, only dumb down the pain. It can’t take away the wound, but it can reduce the pain,” she groggily said with a yawn.

“Better than nothing!” And with that, the lizard gingerly climbed back to her head and a small cackle of black electricity emerged from his body and surrounded her head, then neck, then encompassed her entire body. “You have such an amazing Epithet you know that! It is only fitting that such a courageous figure like yourself can wield such epic magic!”

“It can only dumb things or make it silent,” Molly lightly snorted as she felt the pain ease up. Unfortunately, it was still there, but it just now felt like a jackhammer in her skull than a full on construction crew. But it was during that momentary pause that she felt a strong force bubbling from her throat as she began to viciously cough and it was only when it subsided did both noticed that amongst the floor and clothes were speckles of red that did not belong.

Molly paled as Rick stared, but it was both muted panic. 

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

Naven hated these accursed wings and even more this blasted pixie form, he could only fly so fast and it still wasn’t fast enough.

He was just barely making it to a four way intersection of the hallway of this hovel when he spotted a pink-haired gargoyle man with an angered and determined look on his face; he'll have to ask about that later, walking from the outer left hallway.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Murder! Mr. Murder!” His yells caught Giovanni's attention transforming his murder spree look, oh the irony, back into his exuberant and cheerful puppy dog expression.

“Ahoy hoy other judge, I was just about to come back up for the-” he was cut off both by the look of panic on the normally calm hostage/judge's face, but mostly by his next words.

“Ms. Blyndeff is seriously injured.”

What

“What?!” 

“I need your assistance to find the eldest Ms. Blyndeff because I’m not fast enough,” the CEO/speech teacher continued as if he hadn’t dropped a nuclear bomb on the proclaimed villain.

“Bear Trap hurt!” He was still stuck on that thought but managed to push it to the side (not out the forefront of his mind) and replace it with a nod. “Say no more,” he grabs the green pixie and puts him on his head, “I’ll get us to the kitchen fast.” Then he took off as fast as his feet could take him, if he used his wings for an extra speed boost then no one is complaining. They made it just in time to see Lorelai, her wand raised high above her head, as she stood behind an oblivious Trixie and Feenie, both of who were arguing about something in front of a closet.

Naven was already very angered and worried about one of his students, so to see the other two being loomed over by the same person who already harmed his student? He was not having it in the slightest.

“Ms. Blyndeff stand down!” He yelled, flying off the man's head, startling all three girls.

“Naven!” The two little girl pixies cried out as they were stunned to see that Lorelai was behind them, but managed to fly around her and towards the other two adults.

“What are you doing here so early?” The bunny witch nervously chuckled as she hit her wand behind her back. “I wasn’t using magic I was just-”

“Frankly I do not care, Ms. Blyndeff is heavily injured,” Naven cut through his words. 

That made Lorelai's stomach drop as she unconsciously released their magical forms thus turning them all back into humans.

‘Molly hurt?’

“What do you mean she’s injured?!” Trixie yelled in shock. 

“She’s hurt! How did she get hurt?!” Feenie panicked as she rushed over to her teacher.

“We can discuss it later, but for now we have to go-” a fast figure rushed past them as they turned to see Lorelai already running through the halls. The rest of the group wordlessly began to follow her.

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

Lori knew where she was going, she created this entire world and there isn’t a single blade of twizzler grass that gets stepped on without her knowing. So of course she knew where Molly was when that rich CEO told her the…news, even without the reflection of the looking glass, she could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in her hovel. 

But what she wasn’t prepared for was her baby sister curled up in that weirdo dude's lap as she entered the foyer, she didn’t expect to see her bloody and heavily breathing.

She still remembered the smell of the smoke 

She still remembered the feeling of heat

She still remembered hearing her father mourning cry and her sister wail in anguish 

She still remembered the sight of her mom still form as the ambulance took her away

And. Isn’t. This. Familiar?

Lori took a step forward (when did she stop) to her sister but paused as her baby sister was moved away from her. She looked up in fierce anger at whoever dared move her when she saw a deep look in the man who was cradling Molly. She couldn’t quite describe what it was, but it wasn’t the promise of safety for anyone (for her) who dared to come near. 

Rick, who is now back in his human body, had transferred Molly into his lap and curled her head gently up as he held his jacket to the bleeding wound. The young girl tried to stop him at first, but he pointedly told her that she was worth more than a mere jacket. And when he saw that the strange witch's sister tried to come near (after what she did!) his friend, he wasn’t about to let his small friend go anywhere close to her. 

He wasn’t about to let any threats near her, even if he had to show her what a survivor from a death tournament looked like.

The two younger children would have commented on seeing Rick, the exuberant weirdo stranger, getting mad was weird, but they were too focused on their wounded friend.

“Molly!”

“Bear Trap!” Giovanni, who had the longer legs, was the first to arrive next to the downed duo as he kneeled down in front of his littlest minion. “Bear Trap, what happened?”

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

“That’s a lot of blood! What happened?!” 

Molly, who was in a daze, could faintly see her friends and Boss surrounding her, but then she saw who was behind and stilled as she remembered the last words Lori spoke to her before she was dropped down the tower.

If you want me nonviolent, then you better stay quiet

A direct threat to her friends.

She can’t let that happen, she can’t let them get hurt because of her!

She has to fix this.

She has to fix this right now!

“Bear Trap, come on say some-” Giovanni's panicked tone was cut off by a small voice.

“…sry.”

“What was that Molls.” Trixie leaned in.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stared directly at her sister.

“…what?” Feenie blankly said.

“Why are you apologizing to her!” The pinkette hissed as they glared at the witch who resembled another word very close to it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt them, I’m sorry,” she choked out as it broke free from her throat. “My fault, my fault I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Tears poured down her face as she pleaded and begged. “I’m sorry!”

“Molly,” Lorelai's voice clogged up her throat. Sure she wanted to apologize for trying to trick her and never playing with her, but not like this. Not like she was afraid of what she would do to her, she would never really hurt her sister. She wouldn’t! 

“…what,” But apparently not everyone got that memo as Trixie glared at the one who put them in this mess in the first place. “What the hell did you do!”

“I-I-”

“I-I nothing you stupid fucking ass! You think an apology will fix this? No wonder Molly hates being home, if it isn’t her shit father forcing her to work, clean, cook, and every other shit like a fucking slave then it’s her sister who thinks it’s funny to try to kill off her sister!

“I didn’t mean to!” She hyperventilated. She didn’t mean to! She didn’t mean to! She just wanted Molly to finally play with her and her alone, she didn’t want this! Not this! Not again!

“Then what do you call this!” They points to their heavily breathing friend as their cousin took out some of the bandages he kept in his man purse and began to bandage her up. 

(“You’ll be just fine Bear Trap,” Giovanni whispered as he methodically wrapped the wound. 

“Don’t worry Boss, I’m fine,” she coughed out as she leaned into his warm hands. It was nice, she had to thank him and Rick, they had really warm hands.

“Yeah,” he choked out as tears threatened to burst from the corner of his eyes. “You will be.”)

“What do you call that?!”

“Take a breath,” Naven puts a hand on her shoulder, “screaming will do no good.” His glare shifts back to the wide eyed teenager. “Can your Epithet fix this?”

“I don’t know, I can try,” she shakily held out her wand and began to chant. “Fix-fix the wound and uhh and-”

“You don’t need a spell,” Feenie's steel voice cut through her words like a hot metal knife through butter. “Hurry up.”

“Right,” she was shaken that she forgot and just flicked her wand as her Epithet washed down on Molly…then nothing. Nothing happened. “It’s not working, why isn’t it working? When someone is hit by my Epithet I can fix it!? Why can’t I fix this?!” She kept flicking her wand over and over again, but still, nothing happened.

“I was afraid of that,” the adult slightly gritted his teeth. “It’s because this isn’t Epithet related, she got this injury when you vanished the ground from beneath her and she fell from the tower with her head smashing into the floor,” Naven said calmly, but it didn’t sound like the sway of a field of flowers, no this sounded more like the soft crunches of autumn leaves as the predator stalks its prey. “Congratulations, it seems you do have what it takes to kill someone.” He went for the throat.

Lorelai choked.

“Unless you wish to save her then get us out of this bubble, so we can take her to the hospital,” he sank his teeth deeper.

No other words needed to be said as the scenery around them vanished and just like that once more, the bunny had lost to the leopard.

Everyone was thrown back due to the abrupt dislodge from the world, but thankfully Giovanni and Rick kept a tight hold on Molly as they tumbled into one of the shelves.

“Molly!” The self proclaimed villain, holding onto her right side, quickly sat up to check and much to his dismay, found that she was unconscious. It would seem that during the transition, Rick accidentally let go of his Epithet. The crashing wave of pain bludgeoned into her all at once and, in some twisted god sense of humor, it knocked out the poor girl, no longer feeling the pain.

“Do you have a healer on hand?” Rick asked someone in the room as he stood up. He willingly let go of his friend, he could tell by the other fellow gingerly holding her that she was in safe hands.

“My chauffeur outside,” Naven quickly said as, once he got off the plastic seat, he held the door open.

“Hold on Molly!” The blonde child whimpered as she and Trixie freed themselves of the giant teddy bear they fell on.

“You survived worse, no way can a fall kill you,” the youngest girl aggravatedly called out as if her words could pierce through the unconsciousness.

“Molly-” Lori began as she reached out, but was cut off by a voice covered in poison.

“You’ve done enough,” Giovanni snarled like a painted dog protecting its pup as he lifted his wounded minion into his arms and, without even giving the teenager another look, he raced out the open door. Not even wasting a second, everyone else followed after with Naven giving her the final word.

“Reality is inevitable to all and it doesn’t care for anyone's opinions or opposition, but people have made do with that and thrived. Your younger sister understands, but neither you nor your father seems to comprehend that. Wake up Ms. Blyndeff, you're no longer in your bubble anymore.”

Then he closed the door, leaving the teen in shocked silence.

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

The door was violently pulled open, but the chauffeur didn’t care. She was just glad her boss was finally back.

“Finally! It’s been already-”

“No time, we need to get to the nearest hospital quickly,” Naven cut her off.

“For wha-holy shit!” She then noticed that there were five people in the car than there were supposed to, but one of those people was an unconscious and bloody child. “What the hell happen- You know what tell me later,” she starts the car. “Buckle up!”

The usual fifteen minutes to the hospital took only five. If you ignored the running of red lights, driving on the sidewalk, almost bulldozing through a few people, but no one in the car, not even the goody two shoes, Phoenicia, was complaining.

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

“So this ‘IV’ is used to help people with ‘nutrients’ and not just water being put into the blood so that you surface dwellers can float?” 

“One day, I need to visit the ocean country,” Trixie muttered as she and Naven watch Rick inspect the IV pole.

“I concur,” the speech teacher nodded.

“How are you feeling Molly?” Feenie gently asked.

“Just fine now that the room isn’t spinning,” the drowsy, but thankfully healed, child gave a tiny smile to her worried friend. “And thanks for helping me Rick.”

“What are friends for!”

“Yeah thanks for sticking by Molly,” the pinkette hopped from their chair and punched the older man in the arm. “You're pretty alright for a giant weirdo that we thought was dead. Glad you weren’t dead.”

“Thank you! I too am thankful I’m not dead!” He smiled widely. 

“Speaking of dead, where is that buttmunch?” Trixie glanced at the door.

“Didn’t you send him to the cafeteria?” Molly asked, when she had woken up she hadn’t seen him there.

“I had to, else he would have worried and paced the color off the floor,” the girl crossed her arms. She wasn’t wrong though, Giovanni was in a constant state of panic and distress that the loudmouth girl had to send him to get food else he might have woken up Molly, but, and this was only for her, herself, and the privacy of her mind, she wanted to get his mind off of this. During the entire time, her cousin had been unnaturally silent. Gio, her loudmouth cousin who thought it was fun to eat hot grill coal, was silent. That was an oxymoron in itself.

“I hope he’s okay,” she sighed and like a desperate soul looking for a deal, the devil came knocking.

Or in this case, yelling as Giovanni yelled out.

“I got your text! Why didn’t you call me that she was awake!” He scurried into the room with a tray pile of food, pockets of snacks, and a bag full of drinks.

“Dang cuz, did you rob the place?” Trixie said, making Feenie gasp.

“Rob! A hospital?!”

“Take it easy little miss hero, I’m a bad guy, not a bad person,” he rolled his eyes. “I mean what kind of person steals from a hospital?”

“I guess that makes sense?” She tilted her head in confusion, but Giovanni was already rushing past her and to the bed.

“Bear Trap! I’m so glad to see you’re awake!” He smiled as he set down his stuff and was about to ruffle her hair, only to pause at the remembrance of her wound. He instead grabbed her hand, the one which didn’t have the IV in it, and gently squeezed it. “You gave us all a heart stopping scare.”

“Sorry about that Boss, but I’m all good now. The only casualty was my hoodie,” she joked as she squeezed back.

“Don’t worry, pops has a secret cleaning detergent that gets rid of all blood stains,” Trixie pipes up.

“And if you need it sewn back together, I can help with that,” Giovanni saw that one of the ears was torn and he knew that it would devastate her.

“I can get the materials!” Feenie offered with a raised hand.

“And I can watch!” Rick boisterously mimicked the blonde.

“You guys,” Molly sniffed with a watery smile. She didn’t want to see how her hoodie, the one her mom lovingly made, was utterly ruined. She doesn’t know if she could stomach seeing the state it was in. “Thank you.”

Naven smiled at the touching scene before he noticed someone approaching the door. It took him a moment to realize it was the same young man that bought the cards from the toy store.

“Excuse me young man,” the figure turned to him. “Are you here to visit Ms. Blyndeff?”

“Yeah, how’d you-” he fully walked in to see Molly weak and bandaged. “What the hell happened?”

“A crappy sister that’s what,” Trixie couldn’t stop herself from saying before taking a double look. “Wait, who the hell are you?”

“Sylvie!” Molly beamed at seeing her friend, “what are you doing here?”

“Well I came back to the hospital for my check up when I ran into Giovanni and he mentioned that you were here,” he walked closer. “Thanks for leaving me behind.”

“Don’t mention it,” the pinkette man grinned.

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know, but you worded it as a compliment ergo thank you,” he mockingly grinned.

“I can’t stand you,” the therapist sighed before softening his expression towards Molly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? I tried visiting you today and as I can see now you might have been busy, but the last time I saw you, you were complaining about your sister skipping out on a shift the other day?” Three days after he got out of the hospital he tentatively made his way to the toy shop and was truly met with the sight of Molly multi-tasking by doing taxes, taking stock of the toys, and still managing the store by herself. If she wasn’t twelve, he would have considered that efficient, but she is and he considered that against child labor laws.

“As I mentioned before, the crappy sister did this,” Trixie relaxed as she and Feenie looked toward the new guy. If Molly thought this guy was cool then he was cool with them, she is the best judge of character.

“And CPS has yet to intervene?” He couldn’t help but say.

“You would think,” Naven said under his breath.

“They don’t listen to twelve year olds,” the patient grumbled before happily taking a pudding cup that Giovanni opened for her. “Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it Bear Trap,” he said as he cracked open an Oj bottle.

“Ah, adults' own belief in their arrogance and other liked minds reign supreme to them over the words of those younger and perceived to be naive. I feel you there, I had too many to deal with in my time,” he solemnly nodded. 

“Your time? What are you, some kind of grandpa?” The youngest child snorted, earning a wordless fistbump from her cousin.

“Grandpa?!”

“You visited the shop? Sorry I didn’t see you,” Molly cut in before another argument could break out.

He looked up and down at her before deadpanning. “You are literally the last person to apologize.” 

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell her,” the blonde furiously agreed.

“Sor-I’ve been trying to break the habit, but you know me. Better to apologize than deal with a bigger fallout,” she weakly chuckled. She has been trying to stand up for herself more, but seeing as her last attempt ended her up here well…

“My offer for that free therapy session still stands,” Sylvie gently told her. He wasn’t kidding, he still owed her for sending in the cow plushie along with a few card games, but more importantly, he wanted to help a friend.

“I can pay for your session,” Naven spoke up. He was going to pay for the hospital fee, but Ms. Fleecity beat him to the punch. He wanted to help out any way he could and he had more money to spend than he could count. Of course, Molly tried to deny them and insist she pay for it, but one look from both her friends made the eldest of the children back down. 

“I’ll…I’ll think about it,” she slowly nodded as everyone began to talk and along the way picked up on another surprise.

“So I presume the friend you were asking for back at the shop was Ms. Blyndeff?” Naven said to Sylvie.

“Yeah…wait now I know why you look so familiar back at the shop! You're the CEO of STEM!” The Epithet user stood up. No wonder why he felt like he knew him, of course he knew him! Everyone who hasn’t lived under a rock knows him.

“Indeed I am,” the man merely smiled as he sipped his tea.

“This is so cool-wait no professional,” he quickly sat back down and leaned back to pretend he wasn’t about to fanboy before another thought occurred to him. “Wait, why were you working at the Toy shop?”

“I was merely helping out as Ms. Blyndeff's older sister was…preoccupied.”

“Which means slacking off,” Trixie spoke up from all three girls plus Giovanni attempting to help Rick navigate around a phone, one of Feenie's many, many collections.

And judging by how Naven didn’t attempt to correct her, the silence said plenty.

“But how does Molly know you?” The boy pressed, still more than confused.

“Oh I’m their speech teacher.”

“What.”

“They asked me to be of assistance and I couldn’t just say no. They are polite young children,” the green haired man smiled as if it was common sense.

“…you know what, with how this month has been shaping out, I’ve heard weirder,” Sylvie just decide to not question the strangeness and accept the fact that this was happening. What he did do instead was pile on question upon question to the man, all of which he seemed happy with answering. 

Though the conversation may have been cut short when Molly let it slip that Sylvie was sheep boy that could create magical sheeps. Let it be known that she has never thought that a higher pitch could be reached when Feenie squealed then full on tackled Sylvie and practically begged him to show her the ‘oh so wonderful and phantasmal cute and cuddly sheep.’

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

It was until discharge later that night, thankfully a nurse with an Epithet called Recover managed to heal most of the damages to her body, mostly her skull fracture, that they all remembered a stark problem.

“Yeah, Molly ain’t going back to that house,” Trixie was the first to say it as they all stood in the parking lot. “You're staying with me,” she then took out her phone.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Molly yawned as she hung over Giovanni's back. The nurse may have healed her body, but she could still feel her over usage of her Epithet rebounding on her along with the throbbing pain in the back of her skull.

“You won’t,” Feenie firmly told her as she carried Molly's stuff in a cute pink bag.

“Ain’t hearing it, you can probs stay for a few days without issue, but that’s better than staying at your dump of a place,” the pinkette bulldozed through.

“No worries, I have a plan,” Giovanni said as he snatched up Molly's bag from the blonde hands and adjusted his hold on said child. “Bye!” Then began to run off with both the bag and its owner. He made a promise to her shit father after all that he was gonna take the most precious thing in that toy shop of his. He was a villain of his words and there was no way he was gonna back down, not after all that had happened

A brief moment of silence before someone spoke up.

“Did that just happen?” Asked Sylvie, not believing that Molly was just taken.

“I think it just did,” the lone pinkette blankly nodded before unconsciously picking up their ringing phone. “Ahoy hoy?”

“Hey Short Snack! It is I the great-”

“Giovanni! Bring back Molly right now you frick fracker!” She cut him off before he could continue.

“Hey I don’t frack, even I’m not that evil,” she could hear him whine before her phone got snatched away by Phoenicia.

“RETURN OUR FRIEND AT ONCE YOU BABOON!”

“Hell no!”

“I beg your pardon,” she thinly said before the original owner took back her phone and put it on speaker.

“Why should I? Bear Trap was more than miserable there, she was suffering! She worked her ass off and still hasn't gotten any help from her family, that’s BS. When I saw her deadbeat dad, I told him I was gonna steal the most valuable thing! I even threw a baseballing card at his head, I’m a man of my word!”

“You threw a baseball at my dad?” They heard Molly's groggy voice say, but it wasn’t out of anger.

“You still can’t just kidnap someone! That’s against the law!” The blonde bit back, not wanting to admit that he had a point.

“Well Bear Trap staying at that place would also be against the law now wouldn’t it!”

“He’s not wrong,” Sylvie muttered to himself, but the young girl still heard him.

“Whose side are you on?!”

“And thus, this concludes the first and so far greatest crime of Vincent Murder! Crimesman extraordinaire! MWAHAHAHA!! Also, say hi to Aunt Izzy and Uncle Iggy for me.”

“I won’t,” Trixie grumbled.

“Then say HI to the dial tone! HAHAHAHAHHA!” Was the last thing everyone heard before it was cut off.

“Well I’ll be, he actually did it,” Naven murmured to himself before clapping his hands. “Alright, who would like a ride back?”

“Me! Me!” The two other girls raised their hands as the youngest continued. “Also, can you talk to our parents and help us get out of trouble since we stayed out so late? I really don’t want my mom yelling at me.”

“I’ll be happy too.”

“Sweet, last one to the car, a rotten egg!” The girl dashed off.

“No fair! You had a head start!” Feenie whined as she ran after. Of course the two girls were worried about their missing friend, but they at least have trust Giovanni will watch over her until they get a call back from Molly.

“Oooo is this a game? Let me join, I too shall not be a rotten egg!” Rick yelled out as he followed close behind.

“You're not worried about him just taking Molly?” Sylvie, playing devil's advocate, asked as both he and Naven slowly made their way to the car.

“I have faith that Mr. Murder will take good care of Ms. Blyndeff,” a proclaimed villain he may be, but there is no doubt that he wasn’t an older brother to her since he first saw the two interact. Even when he was held ‘hostage’ Mr. Murder would always talk very animatedly about his minions, which included Ms. Blyndeff as well. Anyone with an open eye could clearly see he cared and loved for each of them. “I know you do too.”

“What kind of fake last name is Murder anyways,” the therapist said in lieu of an answer as the two continued the walk in silence.

And you know what? They were right as when the morning came in the Crusher household, there were Molly crying tears of sorrow and joy as she ate cinnamon apple raisin waffles as Giovanni and Crusher both comforted her.

She was gonna be just fine.

[oathofpromises]

a flirtatious kiss on the back of the hand. (from a'atahni because he would, surprise me with any of your boys ajksdfhlaj)

How long of a voyage had it been from Tural to Limsa Lominsa, Hiroto wondered to himself as he held his head. Shortly after turning twenty-eight, the elder Caelum left his home in an attempt to locate his younger sister, Stella. He had only heard murmurs of her escapades from passing merchants that she had become a Warrior of Light.

As the Viper settled into his seat at the local bar, a wave of queasiness washed over him, leaving him feeling slightly sea-sick. It was one of the reasons Hiroto couldn't stay out at sea for too long. It would leave him feeling very light headed. He gripped a glass of amber liquid in his hand, its contents offering a temporary respite from the unease that plagued him. As he sat there, nursing his drink, he couldn't help but dwell on the thought of seeing Stella once more. Although he was not one to indulge in excessive drinking, the mere mention of her name stirred a flicker of anger within him, coursing through his veins like a tiny flame. He loved her, there was no denying that. She was, after all his younger sister yet, in the depths of his heart, a storm brewed, threatening to consume him.

Could anyone truly blame him for feeling this way? The weight of his emotions pressed upon him like a heavy burden that he carried alone. From the moment his sister came into existence, he found himself in a world that was unfamiliar and devoid of companionship. His parents had remained with Stella and, for reasons unknown to him, had sent Hiroto away to Tural. Which ultimately meant there was little time to spare for him. Thus, he spent countless years in solitude, yearning for connection and understanding. In his soul, a profound sense of loneliness had settled, casting a shadow over his entire world. With each passing year, his heart had grown colder, its once tender and compassionate nature slowly hardening. At least to everyone around him. It was just how life had molded him, and a part of Hiroto hated that.

Hiroto couldn't help but notice that someone had been lavishing him with their undivided attention. The way their gaze would caress his figure was just a tad more lingering than any casual observer would consider appropriate. Out of the corner of red eyes, the older Caelum caught sight of a man, his intense gaze fixated upon him, as he leaned against the pillar nearby. From the moment their eyes met, it was impossible to deny his breathtaking beauty. Yet, deep within the Vipers heart, a whisper of caution warned him that behind such captivating looks, there were almost always a hidden agenda. Maybe Hiroto would see how things played out. To gauge the desires of this individual, for the intensity with which their gaze caressed his physique, left no room for doubt. However, there was a part of Hiroto that felt there was so much more to this stranger than meets the eye. He could see that hint of loss behind those eyes.

Years spent immersed in the treacherous world of the Viper had imparted upon him a singular lesson. Leave them in a state of reflection, enticing them to return for further engagement; and in the event that they did not, it served as undisputed evidence that their motives were solely driven by a fleeting desire, devoid of any deeper connection. Nevertheless, this enigmatic individual proved to be quite indecipherable on occasion, his eyes engaging in a silent dance . Hiroto found himself pondering the question as to why he had been singled out amidst a sea of other individuals in the pub. Surely, there were plenty of other pretty people that this stranger could be flirting with yet, perhaps it was his way of disavowing the truth that he possessed an undeniable allure, at least from what so many had told him in the past.

Hiroto possessed an appearance that matched his ability to ensnare unsuspecting souls with a mere fleeting gaze. Such was the way of life he had been introduced into as a member of the Viper society. Void of his father's presence during his formative years, the young Caelum had no choice but to seek counsel from unsavory characters within the Viper ranks. The experience had bestowed upon Hiroto an invaluable wealth of knowledge, despite its arduous nature.

Hiroto's reverie was abruptly halted when he sensed a soft touch enveloping his hand, as if a delicate butterfly had landed upon it, followed by the tender caress of warm lips upon the back of his palm. It was a moment that often sparked the Viper's desire to flirt right back to tease them too, yet he unexpectedly found himself drawn into the depths of the other's captivating gaze.

"So…you've finally made the choice to grace me with your presence,you've been staring at me for quite a while since the moment I stepped into this bar. Don't think i didn't notice. Care to tell me your name or are we jumping right into flirting..." whispered Hiroto, as he raised his glass and took another drink. A faint blush spread across his cheeks, rather it was from the amount he had been drinking or that he was slightly touched deep down. There was an undeniable part of the Viper that felt curious about whom this person was and why did it feel like flirting was a wall they used to, forgot that pain that he could clearly see beyond those eyes. The same that was reflected in his own too.

"Order whatever you would like, it's on me. Now..care to tell me why you find me so interesting? Most people usually tend to ignore me unless I engage with them first. But where are my manners..my name is Hiroto Caelum.”

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you do a headcanon about Lexie and Amelia being the annoying little sister's to Derek an Amelia and both of them get compared to their older siblings by everyone?

---

It wasn't always easy to be a Grey or a Shepard, especially when you were the younger born under that name.

For Lexie, being a Grey meant being compared to her older sister at a young age and being compelled to follow in the footsteps of her famous mother; Ellis Grey. She often didn't like the fact that she was not seen by everyone as a person of herself but always only carried under her last name.

That also meant pressure for the youngest. Nocturnal study phases, perfect grades, no time for friends. She often felt left out and alone, but she didn't know it any other way; she was always told that her career is more important than anything else in the world.

Amelia was no better. She also had a huge name that she had to bear with all the burdens that came with it. And she broke because of them. The feeling of being overwhelmed and fearful of failure were feelings that were accompanied by shame. There was no room for that in this family full of doctors.

She struggled through breakdowns, deaths, loss, drug use and pulled herself together at school to keep the name Shepard clean. And so she got one of the best neurosurgeons in the state.

Lexie and Amelia met in the early years of medical school when they walked into each other and since then, they have been inseparable. Because they both were the youngest and had two of the greatest doctors in the family, they quickly came to a common denominator.

Once they became medical students at Seattle Grace, where again they were only known as the younger siblings of the best surgeons, they gave Meredith and Derek hell on earth.

They were annoying in different ways. They crashed romantic dates, destroyed intimate moments and the quiet idyll of the OR was devastated by their problems and thoughts. Suddenly, they were in the center of the hospital, everyone talking about the younger generation of Shepards and Greys and put their siblings in the shadows.

Derek and Meredith also had to listen to the little quarrels between the best friends and mediate between them. They hated it, but they were happy and proud that they gave each other the support to keep each other away from problems.

But it was also the other way around; if the older ones had an argument, both tried with positive impressions and gentle efforts to bring them back together.

They went up the hierarchy and became the favorites of Bailey and Webber, you would think that Derek and Meredith were jealous of them. They are always choosing Lexie and/or Amelia to assist in an operation.

Now they were the Seattle Grace superstars.

[acacia-may]

For that new ask game, can I ask 2, 4, 7, 14, 18, 19 and 27 for Nozel? Sorry if it's too many numbers.

Hi Anon! No worries at all. I'm happy to answer any and all questions about Nozel. Thank you so much for playing my game and for the ask! 🥰

Questions from this Character Ask Game

Answers & Headcanons Below the Cut [because this post got a bit lengthy]

(Warnings: Contains Spoilers for and through the Spade Arc)

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

I think my perception of Nozel really began to change in the Elf Arc during the battle at Silva Castle. We learned so much about Nozel's deeper motivations and saw that he did actually care for Noelle and wanted to protect her (he just went about it in the absolute worst way possible), and he does admit he was wrong about Noelle and her abilities and actually apologizes to her there which helped paint him in a more sympathetic light to me.

All that said, I think it was really in the Spade Arc when we learn even more about why Nozel acted the way he did--that on a certain level he was really almost forced into this more antagonistic role because he literally couldn't explain that Noelle wasn't responsible for Acier's death due to the curse. Suddenly, in my mind, I have this incredibly vivid and heartbreaking mental of Young Nozel a literal child forced to carry the weight of the world alone. Not only has he lost his mother but he has also been quite literally cursed with such a heavy burden. The pain and the loneliness of that has to be unbearable for even an adult, but Nozel was only a teenager. And I think when looking at the situation from that kind of perspective, it's easy to have a lot more sympathy for him. Yes, he didn't handle the situation as well as he could have especially with Noelle, but I just started thinking to myself: would I have been able to do much better under those circumstances at only 14 years old? Would anyone, honestly? And that isn't to excuse away what he did, especially when he got older, but it does make him more sympathetic to me and I feel genuinely bad for how much he suffered and wish him good things and a reconciliation with his sister going forward.

4. How many people I ship them with

This is a very difficult question for me to answer, honestly, because I am much more invested in Nozel rebuilding his relationship with his sister, Noelle, than in any potential romantic relationship he could have. My personal view of shipping in general is as more of an actively wishing or wanting certain characters to get together with other characters, and in this particular case I'm not sure I am actively wishing for Nozel to end up with anyone in particular. There are certainly a handful of ships I like or would be okay with for him (Nozel x Dorothy and Nozel x Vanessa come to mind off the top of my head, and I also like several Nozel x OC ships created by some talented writers and artists in the fandom). Ultimately, however, I think in my mind, Nozel just has so much internal turmoil and a lot of things he personally needs to work through before I can see him really getting into a relationship with anyone (and, honestly, on some level, before I can see him even wanting to get into a relationship--but that's just my personal interpretation) so I really think I am actively wishing for him to take time to heal and to work on himself more than I am actively wishing for him to find love, if that makes sense?

If I had to put a number on it...um...I guess, since I'm not really set on any particular ship for Nozel, I'd honestly say the possibilities are kind of endless. I'd really like to see him marry for love someday, but my more practical side thinks he has probably already been betrothed to somebody and he's not really the type who'd break that kind of commitment even if he wanted to. But who knows?

7. A quote of them that you remember

I remember just my jaw dropping in this moment. (I watched the anime first, but it was also an important moment in the manga). It was such a big thing for Noelle to have her brother finally show he believed in her and suggest they fight together side-by-side. Another that comes to mind is his entire little speech at the end of the battle where he reveals to Noelle his reasons for treating her coldly were that he was trying to deter her from joining the Magic Knights and he admits that he was wrong about her and that he's sorry. It was the first step in repairing their broken sibling relationship, and though they still have a lot of work to do to see Nozel actually admit he was in the wrong and apologize for that was a big step in the right direction.

14. Best storyline they had

As of writing this, Nozel's arc in Spade and his battle versus Megicula, but we'll see if this changes with whatever Tabata has in store for him in the final arc.

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

Nozel was always an old soul--wise beyond his years, quiet, serious, and responsible. He worked hard and studied conscientiously, and he very rarely got into trouble. If anything was a bit of a stick in the mud when it came to more imaginative, raucous, and childish games, and I imagine Acier often had to encourage him to stop working so hard and have fun every once and a while so he'd remember to actually be a kid while he was still young.

19. The most random ship you've seen people have with them

To start with a disclaimer: I actually like this ship, but I think I'd have to admit that Nozel x Vanessa is pretty random to me seeing as they haven't ever really interacted in the canon and I honestly would have never thought of it as a pairing if I hadn't seen it in the fandom. I think imagining the potential of it and what it could be like is part of the fun of that particular ship, but I'd classify it as random even if I feel positively about it.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

So for a very silly answer, I'm going to say Rui from Demon Slayer just because my sister and I have this running inside joke that he's basically a Nozessa love child since he has this thick, angular silvery-white hair like Nozel and a thread-based magical ability (blood demon art) similar to Vanessa's magic (Rui also has an attack called "Murderous Eye Basket" that looks very similar to Nozel's "Silver Star of Execution"). He is a villain though, so I guess you'd have to ignore that... 😅😂 Still I could see Rui wanting to adopt Nozel into his "Spider Family" and Nozel just having no patience for these kinds of shenanigans which could be a fun mashup. (I also wouldn't mind watching these two battle too, so either way, I think it might be an interesting meeting).

[zapreportsblog]

I Don’t Want To Be A Hero, So Leave Me Alone

➥ summary: Like any reincarnation fanfiction this story has to do with a women from the real world dying and getting reincarnated into a anime with some massive op powers. Throughout most of this story you are nothing but a 8 month year old which transforms later on into a child, well if we make it that far that is.

➥ chapter 11: Embracing Destiny

Within the quiet confines of their home, Tomura, now a child with a troubled past, grappled with newfound revelations about his sister, (Y/N). The realization that she possessed the incredible quirk of omni-manipulation stirred conflicting emotions within him. He found himself questioning his own role, doubting his worthiness to be a hero.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, Tomura pondered the implications of his sister's extraordinary ability. He believed that she was destined for greatness, that her power surpassed his own. In the depths of his heart, he believed she was more deserving of the hero's mantle.

Lost in his contemplation, Tomura was startled by a knock on his door. It swung open, revealing the concerned faces of his newfound parents, who had come to check on him. Their love and support were unwavering, even in the face of his doubts and insecurities.

His mother, gentle and compassionate, knelt before him, her voice filled with reassurance. "Tomura, my dear, we understand the weight of your burden. But you must know that you, too, are destined for greatness. Being (Y/N)'s older brother makes you a hero in your own right."

His father, firm yet kind, joined the conversation, his voice carrying wisdom and conviction. "Your role as her protector is crucial, Tomura. You possess a strength within you that goes beyond your quirk. It is your love, your determination, and your unwavering loyalty to your sister that will shape you into the hero you were meant to be."

Tomura gazed into their eyes, his heart yearning for acceptance and understanding. Their words resonated within him, casting a flicker of hope upon the doubts that had consumed him. He realized that the true measure of a hero was not solely based on power or ability, but rather the selflessness and courage to protect those they care about.

The weight of his parents' words settled upon him, filling him with a newfound sense of purpose. As the realization dawned upon him, a spark ignited within his heart. Perhaps being a hero was not limited to the confines of conventional expectations. Maybe, just maybe, he could carve his own path and redefine what it meant to be a hero.

With this newfound clarity, Tomura rose from his seat, determination etched upon his features. "Thank you, Mom, Dad," he said, his voice steady with resolve. "I understand now. I may not possess the same abilities as (Y/N), but I have my own strength, my own way of protecting her and others."

His parents' smiles filled the room, radiating pride and love. "That's our brave boy," his mother said, her voice filled with affection. "You have the heart of a hero, Tomura. Embrace it, and never doubt your worth."

In that moment, Tomura felt a surge of purpose course through him. He realized that being a hero meant more than just possessing a powerful quirk. It meant standing up for what was right, protecting those in need, and cherishing the bonds of family.

As he contemplated his newfound understanding, Tomura's gaze shifted to his sister's room. Determination burned brightly within him as he made a silent promise to protect her, to be the hero she deserved when their parents could not.

From that day forward, Tomura's journey took on a new meaning. He would grow to understand that heroism was not confined to labels or predetermined paths. It was a choice—a choice to embrace one's destiny, to protect and uplift others, and to forge a future filled with hope.

With a newfound sense of purpose, Tomura took the first step on his path to becoming the hero he was destined to be. Alongside his extraordinary sister, he would navigate the trials and tribulations of a world in need of heroes, relying not just on their unique abilities, but on the unbreakable bond of siblinghood.

As they stood united, their parents' love and guidance echoing in their hearts, Tomura and (Y/N) embarked on a journey of self-discovery, resilience, and unwavering heroism. Together, they would overcome the odds, redefine what it meant to be heroes, and leave an indelible mark on the world they vowed to protect.

[lcfthaunted]

Mazie was five when everything changed. She’ll learn later that it was late September, not long after Mallaidh’s second birthday. It was far from the first time their father had dropped them off at their aunt’s, leaving before anyone answered the door. It was just… the first time no one answered the door. They had bags their father packed for them; Mazie hadn’t looked at what was in them, just made sure the bags were safe on the ground in front of the door. She helped Mallaidh onto the porch swing, then carefully clambered up next to her, letting her little sister nap with her lap as a pillow. She wasn’t too worried when her aunt didn’t come to the door, wasn’t too worried when they were on the porch for an hour, two. When Mallaidh woke up hungry, Mazie dug into the bags their father packed and found some snacks. She let Mallaidh eat them all.

Jeanie and the rest of the family didn’t return until evening. Jeanie was instantly horrified; her brother hadn’t let her know the girls were coming, and she didn’t know to come back for them from their day trip. Mallaidh started crying, hungry and tired and scared, and Jeanie swung the younger girl up into her arms, carrying her inside. Mazie followed, pale eyes wide and fixed on her sister, carrying both their bags into the house that would shortly become their home. Mazie shadowed her little sister, making sure she ate and was bathed and changed into comfortable pyjamas before tending to any of her own needs. Her hours on the porch swing, comforting her sister, made one thing abundantly clear to the little five-year-old. No one was going to make sure they were okay, so it was her job to do it. She’d been watching over her little sister her entire life already, since their mother died; this incident only made it more apparent how little Mazie had to depend on.

Jeanie certainly tried to convince the older girl that they were her family and that nothing like that would ever happen again - between herself, her husband, and their three boys, someone will be able to help the girls if they need it. But Mazie never quite internalized it, refusing to depend on anyone else unless absolutely necessary, and refusing to burden her sister with any of her problems. She would watch over Mallaidh, not trusting that anyone else would. No amount of help or proof otherwise was quite enough for her, and she spent the rest of her childhood and adolescence waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Mallaidh quickly forgot the ordeal, settled easily into the Stengaard household. While Mazie settled as well, seeing Jeanie and Rhys as her mum and dad, and the boys as her brothers, she never quite accepted that they wouldn’t be abandoned again, and so promised herself to be as unobtrusive as possible, to require as little help as she could get away with. As she grew older, it became a need to offer help, to be as useful as possible, to be wanted so she wouldn’t have to worry about being left behind again. She barely remembers her father, but vividly remembers those hours on the porch swing, feeling suddenly, petrifyingly, completely alone in the world. Mallaidh was still a baby - would always be a baby to her - and Mazie was loathe to make Mallaidh grow up as quickly as she had that day.

The repercussions of that day still affect her; it is incredibly difficult for her to trust that other people will be there for her when she needs them. In any relationship, she expects the other person to find her too much of a burden, just as her father did, and braces for the eventual, inevitable abandonment.

[bokettochild]

I Am My Master's Sword

So... I ended up having feelings about Fi. Mostly because of a a post that was shared before my Tumblr break about her. Like, we talk about how Fi might have felt when Wind pulled her, and I know- I know! I talk about him a lot but-

Legend.

Legend was a kid, maybe even younger than Time was, when he pulled the sword. And unlike in the other timelines where Fi's decision hurt the hero, in this one, he died!

Fi is dedicated to, and assigned, one task; to help her master protect the world. So how would it effect her to fail in that task and let her master die? Only to be given another one, just as young and small and weak, to try and guide?

Anyways, I caught Fi feels and wrote her a little thing. It is TTTB compliant, but you don't have to read that 30+ Chapter mess to read this.

Hope y'all enjoy!

Perhaps it was not the goddess’s will, but Fi had favorites.

Logically, a sword should not have any attachment to her many masters, she should have been cold and loyal to all of them, granting them her power and aid until they returned her to her rest, and then waited for the next one to come and draw her blade.

But even so, there were a few of her masters that she had an especial fondness, for, even despite her attempts to remove her own feelings from the equation.

Master. Matdas. Link. The Hero of the Surface and the Sky. Chosen Hero of Hylia herself, her dearest and closest friend, easily stood at the top of her list of favorite heroes. He was the one to forge her to her fullest power and stand by her side. Certainly, he was an eternally exhausted and somewhat easily distracted young man, but in her lengthy experience, it seemed that was simply Her Grace’s preference for heroes. The point was that her first Master was her favorite, and dearest of friends, and despite his flaws; his tardiness and inability to focus for long periods, his utter cluelessness when conversing with other individuals, and his (honestly endearing) love of danger; she adored him.

They could not remain together forever though. She may be her Master’s sword, but a knight only requires the use of his blade as long as he is in battle, and with Demise defeated, there was no need for her power to be continuously used. It was with great sadness that Master had laid her to rest, and had Fi ad a heart, she had little doubt that she would have shed many a tear at their parting.

She lay at rest for many years.

The hero after her Master had no need of her power, forging his own blade like his ancestor before him and defeating evil without her aid.

It was the hero that followed after that that weighed heavy on her mind.

The young Hero of Time was both her greatest regret and her greatest sorrow. A mere child, one too young for her voice to be of any aid to him, her calculations and estimates nothing in comparison to the orb of blue light -a fairy she had determined- that filled the air with chatter and guided the boy along. Had she had her way here, he too would have gone on without having to wield her power. Such a choice was not in her metaphorical hands however, and when small fingers had clasped her hilt the possibilities of the future had overwhelmed her.

In another world, the sleep she sent him into saved him. In another world, her strength was enough. In another time, the hero survived and moved on with his life. In another world he grew up and was married and was happy. The echoes of that world resounded within her, but they were not the life that she saw in this time. No. In this time, her blade clattered to the ground amid the churned-up dirt and seeping blood as a boy too young had released his last breaths in an agonizing scream.

The princess defeated the monster that was Ganon, sealing him away. The princess took her blade in her hands and carried it far away from the castle, hiding it in a grove with a bitter curse on her lips for the blade's failure to protect its master.

Still stained in blood and dirt, Fi took the admonition of Her Grace’s incarnate, fully aware of her own failure in the gristly matter.

She sat alone in that grove for centuries.

Trees rose and fell and hand after hand tugged at her blade, curious but unworthy to remove her. Children had played at her base, uninjured by her dull blade as stories were shared about where the youngsters thought the broken and neglected blade had come from.

“A princess put it there.” A pink haired child had told his playmates. “I saw her in a dream once.”

“A princess?”

“Sure, Link, an’ my Gran’s a duchess!”

The other children had laughed and teased, eventually tiring of their play and wending back to where their parent’s and families gathered on the edge of the grove, half-way through a journey, no doubt to a festival or event in castle town.

Fi had watched with a stiff little smile. They were precious beings, Her Grace’s children, she could understand why Master and the Spirit Maiden had been so dedicated to protecting these people if such small beings were possible. She enjoyed watching them, as much as a sword spirit could, perched, invisible to the mortal gaze, on the hilt of her blade, watching games of tag and hide and go seek with dull eyes.

None of them should have been able to see her.

Purple eyes met hers regardless, shining and curious, and so painfully innocent.

Had the spirit had a heart, it would have sunk in her chest at the smile and shy wave cast her way.

“By Miss Blue Lady.” The boy had whispered, darting off with his playmates back to their caravan.

And just like that, she’d known that evil would again rise soon.

None but a Hero of Hylia ought to have been able to see her.

She dreaded the day that the hands of the pink haired boy would wrap around her blade. Would he be a child still, like the last one? Would he have aged at least as much as her beloved Master? Still young, but old enough to at least bare the weight of her blade without stumbling? Would Her Grace be able to hold strong long enough that her Chosen Ones would be allowed to age enough to bare their heavy burden?

Her soul wavered when the blade was pulled at last, and had she been capable, she would have cried tears of sorrow when she saw her new Master.

He was still so small...

She was far too big for him, just as the hero before him, but the very thought of sending him off, putting him to sleep like she had the last one..... The Hero of Time’s soul would have stirred and roamed free to find and shatter her should she do so, she had little doubt. And she would wish it. Never again, never again would she trap a mind in a body too old, nor would she so illy prepare her master as she had her last.

In another time, another world, a place covered with waves as far as the eyes could see, her choice was the same, and when a small boy, only twelve or so years of age had come, she had breathed her blessing on him even as a soul foreign to the Hero’s Destiny had pulled her free. In that world, her Master had not fallen, but the world had been corrupted in the wake of their victory, and it was left without a guardian to save it from the evils of the world.

But in this world, she had held herself aloof from the young one in her care, careful to not impress on him the destiny he neither chose not embraced. Duty pushed this child, orders of one above him and the glimmer of hope that whatever sorrow burdened his young heart might be relieved. There was little she could say or do to him regardless, after all, she was not meant to be locked into stone, away from Her Grace’s power and touch, where her blade could not regain its power and where she grew weak and damaged.

There was little she could do to aid the little hero, her Young Master, but Hylia’s wisdom touched the young one’s mind and he, rather than forsaking her for a better blade, took especial care to clean and care for her blade, gathering supplies and taking her to a smithy who strengthened and brightened her blade, and who’s hands guided her Young Master to mend her ailments and restore her to power.

Again, under caring fingers and a soulful gaze, she was restored to her true strength, and when little fingers had set to work, etching away a name in her steel, she’d never done a thing to stop them. He had never seen, but she had smiled at the little one as he looked down at his work with a firm nod.

His smile was so much like Master’s own, it made her spirit sing.

Her new master, her little master, the youngest she had known yet (in this time and in this world) was a good one. He tended her blade with all the care due by a young smithy, and even after he had replaced her to her resting place, his enemy defeated and his world saved, he’d taken care to visit and tend to her blade.

While he worked, he’d sing.

Sometimes the Ballad of the Goddess that he hummed, sometimes an old song she didn’t know. Sometimes he’d chatter, telling her about his day and how the world was. About the apple orchard beside his house and how it prospered, about the princess that was his sister, and about the things they’d seen on their journey.

Unlike before, violet eyes did not rest on her when she perched on the sword’s hilt, attentive and silent, but that did not stop her from watching him as he attended to her blade and the stone it was set in, as he cared for the ground and the area around it with all the worry and knowledge of a budding gardener.

But then he had stopped coming, and only the princess had come to her once and again, until Farore’s Oracle herself came, taking her blade in hand and whisking them away to a faraway country where her little hero, a bit older and a bit more experienced, waiting to take her on another adventure.

He had had help this time, there were friends and a mentor at his back as he fought the corrupted Golden Goddess that had been Nayru, but now acted only as a puppet to the evil Veran. There was no small amount of pride in the spirit’s soul as she watched him lead an army to destroy Ganon once more, to defeat Koume and Kotake and destroy the Tower of Evil that Veran had caused to be built.

Adventure after adventure, she had watched her little hero grow in skill and body. But with each task, each fateful quest, she had seen light leave violet eyes until they were hard and cold as stone. Eyes that lacked the purity and innocence to see her when at last her strength had fully returned. He no longer spoke to her, even as his hands worked dutifully over her blade. Only a set jaw and harsh stare met her gaze when she tried to catch his eye again, and again the spirit’s lack of a heart to break was felt as she watched bitterness and anger take over the boy as he cast aside any faith he may have once held for the Oracles and Her Grace Hylia.

Like a mother whose child has gone astray, she mourned, watching as task after task had consumed the innocent child and fueled the anger of the troubled teenager.

Sword spirits were not meant to have feelings, or to love and grow fond, and perhaps this was why. Because any Hero who must wield his blade for too long will change and grow callus and bitter towards those he loves, and she would have to watch the life fade from them as anger took hold. Hylia had attempted to grant her peace, to save her from the curse that was feeling, but she had pushed just enough to taste it, and now it was hers and a curse that weighed heavily on her as she was carried to and fro on quest after quest after quest.

Fi should not have known all of this, should not have known the heroes that she would meet in the future. Her memories should not have swum to her as nine heroes gathered, each baring his own blade as once more her Master had drawn her from her place to join with his fellow heroes to fight an evil that danced through time with no regard for its sacred pattern and the delicate lines cast between worlds. By all calculations, she ought not be able to know each in all of their individual splendor and lack thereof. She should not have known that the last of their number was once the youngest to wield her blade, or that in his time her strength was nothing to the world it was needed to save.

She shouldn’t have known that the boy’s father was a knight who’s power had been corrupted with her strength, a man brought near to ruin in her desperate attempt to right the wrongs she had done to those before him. Her strength was returned in his time, and it had nearly saddled her with the weight of another hero’s death.

She shouldn’t have known the beast that tamed himself with her power, the wolf that stirred inside the heart of a Hylian who had drawn her strength to himself in a time of shadows and twisted evils that spread far beyond the corrupted worlds and into Her Grace’s blessed land itself.

And there was her Master, and the child hero who she had killed and saved and ruined and lost all at once, alive from the time he had moved on from when he had left her yet returned her, his life tangled in the web of time and leaving holes and breaks across its surface. There too was her young master, angry and bitter and harsh, and two heroes whose fingers had never borne her strength; a hero whose power had forged his own blade and another who’d yet to find her in his desolate world.

Could a sword spirit sing in more than battle, she would have cried her thanks to the goddesses for a chance to see all of her masters, both claimed and not, gathered. Something stirred in her, although what it was was anyone’s guess, and no calculations and algorithms could determine its source, but Fi would smile as she danced in battle on her Master’s fingertips, protecting those that she had failed and who had been called too young, with the aid of one who she had grown and learned with.

It was her honor to aid them, to travel at their backs and to protect them from the darkness that followed and attacked them. To cleanse evil from their forms and return them too how they ought to have been. But her joy came when at last she could see her heroes connect.

A battle gone wrong, a misstep from one of the heroes and Master had been gravely injured, left unable to carry her and leaving her to be held and wielded by another until he was healed. There was arguing for who had a right, for who had a cause and who would wield her best, but at last she was landing in familiar hands, ones that fingered the etching on her hilt with a knowing and bitter look, but who treated her kindly as he pulled her baldric and sheath over his thin shoulders and followed along behind.

She should have kept silent, she ought to have. She had not spoken to any but the first and the last of her many masters, but she was unable to prevent it when she heard the thoughts of her Young Master.

It’s not like Sky’s actually just my Great-grandfather or something like that, he’s just... I just... I don’t want him to scold me is all. The royal family doesn’t last that long, Hyrule is wrong.

Since watching Master re-unite with the Spirit Maiden, she had not known such curiosity and -maybe it was joy- at hearing the thoughts of one of the heroes that had wielded her.

“So, you are Master’s offspring?”

Despite how the young hero -one of her favorites and the dearest to her soul, beside his ancestor in what might pass as her heart- might complain, she knew he found comfort in hearing her voice. It brought something to stir within her as well.

After centuries of silence, yet from master’s time no time at all, she was freed from silence and able, again, to converse with one of those to which she had been bound for eternity, and through him, Master.

Sword Spirit’s weren’t supposed to have favorites. But the pink-haired child that bore the Gift of Hearing and Understanding, be it animal, plant or spirit voices that he spoke to, was the connection to herself and her Master, a Link, if she might dare jest, to both her past and future, and to the heroes who she had been promised to protect. He stood beside the Chosen Hero in her memory, a favorite. And she too must have been dear to him, why else would he take such care to keep his mark on her hilt, a poorly scrawled name, only four letters, but ones that meant everything.

L-I-N-K.

The mark of ownership. A claim. A promise, and one that she would also keep and honor in kind.

She was her Master’s Sword, but she was also the blade of his descendent, and if pride could be felt by the Goddess’s blade, then Fi would have been bursting with it.

[supercorp-exile]

In the nick of time, this is my Day 2 of Supercorptober2021. Fair warning, this one is a bit painful. TW for minor Kara/M***-el AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34242073 2. secret The wedding ring shone like a beacon at the corner of Lena’s vision, the rest of the afternoon sun shining in through the window and hitting her bedside table. It made her stomach churn.

“Gosh, I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Her attention snapped back up as Kara retrieved the chain holding the ring and put it back around her neck where she wore it when she was in the suit. The frown that always sat there whenever she left Lena to go home was back. Lena wanted to reach out and soothe it, to kiss her and tell her she didn’t have to go, not now, not ever. She could stay in her arms forever if she wanted to.

But all she did was nod and accept Kara’s goodbye kiss to her forehead before she whooshed out the balcony.

--

It was calling her again, from all the way across the room this time.

Kara looked radiant. Beautiful and regal, a winning smile coloring her perfect features and making her eyes crinkle as she talked to some of the guests. But it was the ring on her left hand that captured Lena, a more and more frequent occurrence these days. The ring that haunted her dreams, intertwined with its pair on the hand that was promised to it, a hand that was not her own. Oh, and how she wished it was.

She looked away, tried to focus on where her attention was needed. This was supposed to be her night; she should be happy and proud and celebrating. And yet.

“Miss Luthor, it’s time for your speech, ma’am”, her assistant called from behind her. Lena took a breath, straightened up.

“Thank you, Sarah, I’ll be out in a minute”. The girl nodded and Lena heard her footsteps as she retreated.

And yet she couldn’t feel a thing. It had been ten months. Ten long months since a seemingly botched girls’ night when everyone else canceled on them at the last minute ended up with her and Kara having sex on the floor after a charged moment at the couch and a kiss that had taken all air out of her lungs.

Kara had cried then and left in a hurry with nothing but an “I’m sorry” sitting between them. Lena’s tears came after, along with the guilty she knew Kara was also feeling.

And she had thought, this is it, this is where we end. But two days later Kara had treated her normally at lunch with their friends, like nothing had happened, despite Lena’s awkwardness. She doesn’t think she had ever been that quiet. But Mon-El was there, and everyone else as well, and if Lena didn’t know she was a good liar she’d think everyone was onto her. When lunch ended just like always, she was relieved and content to go on with Kara as it had always been, friends and nothing else, despite her feelings.

That lasted about a month until Kara was pushing her up against a wall. And who was she to deny her best friend? Who was she to deny herself after years of longing and having to sit back and watch Kara’s love story unfold with someone else? After having to play the happy maid of honor at her wedding?

So, Lena indulged. She let the passion she’d been holding back consume her like a burning fire, so powerful and strong she didn’t think it was possible to contain it even if she tried. And Kara was right there with her.

--

The first few times, they didn’t talk about it. Kara would always wait for an opportunity, a stolen moment alone, to fall into her, and never asked for permission. Lena never initiated.

After a while, Lena could tell when Kara would try and create these events, would make excuses, and find auspicious windows of time. She would help, of course. What else could she do?

--

Lena knew Kara wasn’t happy in her marriage. They didn’t fight, not anymore. Not after all these years. Instead, Lena watched as her best friend, the most powerful being in the galaxy, found a way to shrink herself, to make herself small and accommodate for a man with an ego as big as a planet. Watched the light, once ever-present in Kara’s eyes, fade, replaced by quiet resignation.

No one else seemed to notice, except for herself and Alex. Lena could tell by the way the older Danvers changed her behavior towards her sister’s husband little by little, never gruff but more and more snappish.

Lena tried to talk to her, to find out what was wrong, how she could help. But Kara would always dismiss her worries, say everything was great and that she was just being overzealous. We’re fine, Lena, really. I appreciate your concern .

Eventually, Lena let go. They would talk about other things, enjoy their time, albeit shorter, as they always had. Until that night when everything changed.

Now, after all this time, Lena was feeling worn down. Worn down by her feelings, by Kara’s avoidance, by this secret sitting between her and the world like a giant boulder that she couldn’t climb. She had never wanted to be the other woman.

--

“I can’t do this anymore, Kara.”

The car was quiet, the faint buzz of the air-conditioner the only sound in the deserted parking lot. Lena felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“This isn’t doing me any good. Doing us any good. We’re both miserable.”

This time, Kara looked at her she spoke. “Not when I’m with you. Never when I’m with you.”

Lena laughed, but there was no humor to it. “Yes, you are. I can feel your guilt a million miles away.”

Kara looked away, shoulders sagging in the seat.

“I’m miserable when I’m with him too.” Her voice was low, not much more than a whisper. But it filled Lena’s ears in the silence. Her throat constricted, and she felt the prickling, traitorous tears threatening to fall.

“Then leave him. Nothing is holding you back.” She could hear the quiet desperation in her own voice but had no power left to fight it. This was it. She would bend and break tonight, no matter the outcome.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can! Divorce is there for a reason”, she said, holding Kara’s face in her hands, the tears she was fighting back falling freely now. Kara wasn’t faring much better.

“ I can’t . You know it’s not that simple.”

And Lena knew. She knew in Kara’s strangled breath and pained look all the words she wasn’t saying, the burden she carried alone in her shoulders. She knew her battle was lost even before she started the fight.

And the worst of it was, as tired as she felt, and much as she told herself that, Lena knew she would keep coming back to Kara every single time.

[northernrosewritings]

Chronicles of Light and Shadow—an updated wip intro!

Basic info

Genre: young adult, fantasy, comics, a dash of romance

Themes: Grief, mental illness, trauma, found family

Content/Trigger warnings (as is currently planned to occur): depression and suicidal thoughts, self-destructive behaviors, abuse (emotional, verbal, physical), homophobia (not a common theme in the story, but occurs frequently enough that it’s worth mentioning)

Summary

Welcome to the Avrinth [Note: Avrinth is a placeholder name] school of Magical Arts, a private school dedicated to teaching the next generation of mages to control and harness their magical abilities and talents during some of the most chaotic years of their lives.

Mary Ross is the youngest of one of the Four Families, the most powerful mage bloodlines still existing. But her older sister, Charlotte is the one who carries the responsibilities of their family’s influence—which is fine with Mary, who prefers the safety of living unnoticed in her family’s shadow.

But when Charlotte unexpectedly passes away, Mary learns the truth about the Four Families—each one carries the power of ancient, terrifying entities in their blood, and now she carries with her the power and consciousness of a deity of light—a power and a burden that she was never meant to even know about.

-

Eden has no memories before two years ago.

She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t curious about her missing past, but she’s content to remain oblivious and live her life looking forward—that is, until her memories start returning to her anyway, each one darker than the last. Eden knows she’s forgotten something important, something that she must uncover.

And she has the most terrifying feeling that she won’t like what she finds.

Characters

Mary Ross: youngest daughter of one of the Four Families, but she’s largely left forgotten and unnoticed. Mary prefers being alone, and values intelligence and knowledge over pretty much anything else. Prior to receiving the power of light, she specialized in storm and electric magic.

Charlotte Ross: Mary’s older sister. Charlotte is much more outgoing than her little sister, and is well loved by most people who meet her. Every mage has heard the name Charlotte Ross, though, even if they’ve never met her.

Eden Delaney: a cheerful, childish girl, likely due to the fact that she’s not burdened by memories of her past. Eden is a special case, because her magic is underdeveloped and this makes it difficult to determine her magical specialty. She is, however, assumed to be a fire mage, and is being trained as such.

Grant Bay: The second-born of one of the Four Families. Grant was close friends with Mary when they were growing up, but a couple of years before the story he and his oldest brother, Uriah, left their family to live with Uriah’s partner. No one is quite sure why. Grant is very popular among the students, in large part due to his easygoing attitude and his charming personality. Grant’s specialty is enhancement magic.

Duncan Brooks: Duncan is cold, stubborn, and rude, and has difficulty getting along with people even when he tries—so he doesn’t try. He and Eden have a bit of a rivalry caused mostly by her trying to purposely one-up him out of spite, and him being competitive in return. Duncan’s magical specialty is nature.

Cyrus Brooks: Cyrus is Duncan’s younger brother and one of Eden’s first friend at Avrinth. Cyrus is much more widely liked than Duncan. He’s very laidback, care-free, and agreeable, and you’d be hard-pressed to find someone in the school who didn’t like him. Cyrus’s specialty is illusion magic.

Lexi Moore: Mary’s roommate and a wannabe journalist—but above that, someone who values the truth. Lexi will do anything to uncover secrets and corruption in the world, and that starts with the school. She fully believes there’s something sinister happening here, and she intends to find out what it is. Lexi’s magical specialty is psychic magic.

Dex Ramirez: a local mechanic, Dex has no magic whatsoever. Their only connection to the school are their friends, Lexi and Duncan, and they aren’t eager to change that. Magic seems to unnerve them, although they don’t have anything against mages specifically.

Daria: Eden’s roommate, and a bit of a “mean girl” type character—but only when she’s around her friends. Otherwise, she’s nice (if a bit arrogant)

Lucas Delaney: Eden’s older brother. He’s much more reserved and cold than she is, and he’s protective of Eden, although you wouldn’t guess it from how coldly he treats her.

Uriah Bay: Grant’s older brother. They’re very similar in personality, in the sense that they share traits like their charm and kindness, but Uriah is a little quieter and less idealistic.

Ash: Uriah’s romantic partner. Ash is blunt and sarcastic, the kind of person that most people struggle to get along with, but it seems that under all of that they have a heart of gold.

If you’re interested, from now on, I’ll be keeping a list of people who tell me they want to be tagged in content related to Chronicles of Light and Shadow. This will include art, character intros, and short excerpts and writing prompt answers.

[lene-loki]

Never Too Close

Summary: After the events of Avengers: Endgame, (Y/N) Romanoff is mourning the death of her sister Natasha. She is unexpectedly finding comfort in the presence of someone who shares the pain of losing the people he loved.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff!Sister Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Spoiler for Avengers: Endgame, Angst, Grief, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 2264 Words

A/N: I hope ya’ll liked this Imagine. Please let me know if you want to get tagged on future Imagines or Series that I want to write. This isn’t proofread and please excuse grammaticaly and verbal mistakes since English isn’t my mother tongue. And now please enjoy!! With Love, Léne xx

(Y/N) = Your Name

The pouring of the rain sounds like a faint whisper in the distance. When I close my eyes and listen precisely to the rustle I can almost hear the voice I long to hear. I open my eyes when the wind starts to blow into my ear, making my whole body shiver. A raindrop lands directly on top of my cheekbone and gets mixed up with a teardrop that escapes my eye. The wet droplet almost feels like a passing kiss. As if she is standing right beside me and kisses my tears away or maybe she cries from heaven herself and her tears end up on my face. I like to think that she watches me from above. Seeing my every move. Despite the rain a familiar warmth is spreading through my heart, making me feel safe and not alone anymore. My eyes blink the tears away, trying to focus on the words that are written on the wooden cross in front of me. The fact that her death is still so recent that she has to wait for a stone to mark her grave, makes me sob. I have looked so many times at that wooden cross that I started to hate it. She deserves a beautiful, carved stone. Not a dirty, broken cross where her name already starts to fade. But she has to wait. Her coffin isn’t set enough to put a heavy stone on top of the earth. I wipe the back of my hand over my tearstained cheeks before I kneel down in front of the grave. Everyday I bring a new kind of flowers by. Making the earth dissapear in a vibrant, little garden. It helps my own mental health to transform the place of grief into a little paradise for her. And I hope this is exactly where she’s at now. In a paradise. My eyes tear away from the flowers before I start counting them again like I always do. Because the number of the flowers is the number of the days since she passed away. My chest hurts, my heart starts to crumble inside when I once again think about the empty coffin under the ground. My sisters body dissapeard when she sacrificed herself to get the Soul Stone. Now all that remained of her is the memory.

Although it’s past midnight when I leave the graveyard I can’t help but to ring Clint out of his sleep - as well as his wife and his children probably. He picks up the phone with a yawn, his voice raspy from his deep sleep. He is the closest I have to family now and he knows. He always cared for me and Natasha and now that she’s gone he’s supporting me more than ever. Giving me a shoulder to cry on no matter how late it is. That is exactly whe he’s never annoyed when I call him at times like this. My loneliness leads the conversation as I tell him that I don’t know where to go. “Where are you right now, (Y/N)?” I shrug my shoulders even though he can’t see. “I think I’m near the Avengers compound.” My voice is barely louder than a whisper. My throats stil sore from my hour long crying at Natashas grave. “I can pick you up. You can stay at mines if you want.” He suggests and I can hear him fumbling with the bedsheets in the background. Ever since Natashas passing, I stayed at the Avengers compound in her former room. But sometimes it gets too much being surrounded by her memories and her whole life in just that little space. Everything in her room reminds me of her scent, her smile, her voice, the look in her eyes - especially that tiny twinkle in her iris that always appeared when she felt extremely proud of me. I have to pull myself together to not sob again and alarm Clint even more. As much as I want to escape from the compound for a little while, I don’t want to wear out Clints care for me. I feel like I already asked too much of him. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry that I woke you.” I swallow the lump down in my throat in hopes he doesn’t hear how near I am to losing it all again. He sighs at the other end. “You’re sure?” “Yes.”   “Okay, love. Don’t apologize for calling me.” His voice sounds so soft I could fall asleep immediately on the side of the road. He just has this soothing affect on me. I hang up after telling him that I love him and walk in the dim lights of the streetlamps to the compound.

Inside the building everything is pitch dark. The only light comes from Wandas room. It’s red and spreads in chaotic rays around the space of her own four walls. She surely is training her magic since she still hasn’t full control over her powers what burdened her more than usually the last couple of days. I decide not to disturb the Scarlet Witch and seek refuge in Natashas room. I really try to sleep but since Thanos happened my nights are as restless as my hurting heart. I’m still wide awake physically but dangerously exhausted mentally when I hear voices in the early morning hours in the kitchen. Wandas voice makes me wonder if she’s been awake the whole night as well. I leave the room in my short pyjama shorts and my plain white T-Shirt. I wouldn’t fall asleep anyway so I might as well just get up and start another day of inner misery. I round the corner to the kitchen island where Pepper placed a large bowl of exotic fruits on top. The blonde showed me a sad smile since she’s lost in her own grief. Pepper disappears out of the kitchen - leaving me alone with Wanda and a familiar brunette man which I recognize from Tony’s funeral. I can’t remeber his name but I recall the pained expression on his face and the devastated haze over his pupils. He seems like he always looks like pure misery. “Good morning.” I greet them both shyly since they haven’t notice me yet. Wanda immediately sends a heartful smile in my direction while the stranger’s corners of his mouth just twitch the slightest bit upward - almost to tiny to notice. I also perceive his new hairstyle. The last time I saw him he had messy, long waves. Longer than shoulder length and a full beard. Now he has his hair cut short and looking neat with his jawline covered in dark stubbles instead of the fullgrown beard. “Bucky, this is (Y/N). She is Natashas’ sister.” Wanda explains him in her thick, sokovian accent since he developed the same look of recognition on his face as me. Now the puzzle pieces click together. That is Bucky Barnes. Steves’ best friend and the other Super Soldier. His facial features unravel in realization. “Oh, right. Hello, (Y/N). Nice to meet you again and I’m... Sorry about your loss.” He frowns at the last part. “Thank you, it’s nice to see you again in less sorrowful circumstances.” I try to lighten up the mood a bit because I don’t want to start my day already with a bad encounter that reminds me once again how miserable I am inside. Unsure if we should shake hands, Bucky’s metal arm jerks briefly in my direction but he instantly lets it sink again - wrapping the room in an uncomfortable silence. “Well it was nice to see you again. I got to go now.” I excuse myself from the weird situation and leave without breakfast to go to my Natasha’s room. I still feel uncomfortable calling it my room since it was Natsha’s place to live for so many years. I didn’t completely lie to Bucky and Wanda since it’s a new day and time to pick up new flowers for my sisters grave. I change into comfy short, cotton pants and an old, blue pullover from Natashas wardrobe before I leave the compound.

I take a cab to the same  flower shop I visit everyday. Where even the owner knows me by name already. Today marks exactly thirty days since Natasha died. A whole month without my older sister by my side. I ordered a special type of flower for this occasion. A bouqet of beautiful Royal Azaleas - the most precious flowers of our native country Russia. As beautiful as Natasha and I like how it brings a bit of our home to her - making her little paradise even more exotic. At the graveyard I am so consumed in my own thoughts to where I’m going to place the Royal Azaleas on the ground in front of the wooden cross, that I don’t notice right away the broad figure a few feet away from me. He’s standing upset in his posture  and bent a little forward above a grave. It’s the back of his head - his freshly done hair and the colour of his shirt that gives him away and I realise that it’s Bucky. I decide against it to walk up to him since he’s mourning in his own world as well and obviously needs his space. My eyes tear away from the picture of the broken man in front of me and I finally walk straight up to Natashas grave. I crouch slightly to put my bag on the ground. I brought a little shovel to set the new flowers into the earth directly in front of the cross - making the Azaleas stand out from the rest. It is when I walk over to the well a few feet away from me to pick up the watering can, that Bucky notices he’s not alone. The can is filled to the brink and quite heavy in my hand as I carry it to Natashas grave, losing waterdrops on my way there. I silently water the flowers - careful not to drown them in the lack of strength I have in my hand that is holding the water can. The whole time I can feel his stare on me and I can almost feel his inner battle if he should come up to me or not. A few moments later he starts nervously walking up to me while I clean the little shovel to stow it away in my bag. “Do you still the need the watering can?” He asks hoarsely as he comes to a halt beside my bend over figure - blocking the sun out of my view which throws a few rays on the water droplets. Making them sparkle inbetween the flowers of Natashas floral paradise. “No.” I smile softly at him and stand up again. He returns my friendly grin and takes the water can but doesn’t leave straight away. He hesitates a second unsure of if he should leave me alone again, but somehow I long for company - not wanting to speak with the wind again and hallucinate about Natashas voice. “I lost everyone. Natasha was the only one left of my family. Although Clint supports the weight of my grief to make me feel like I’m not alone I still feel like it. I always felt like I’m alone in this world and deep down I don’t feel like I belong to the Avengers either. It was Natashas community. Not mine.” My eyes start to sting with upcoming tears while I open up to Bucky. I don’t really know why I do this. I guess I never felt so out of place and so lonely like I did in the past days and it scares me. Bucky clears his throat, his glance burning holes into my soul as he watches every slightest movement of my facial expressions. “I went through losing the people I love so many times that I lost count of it.” He blinks the tears away which threatens to fall from his eyes. “After Steve left to live the life with Peggy he always dramed to have, I officially got left alone. Steve was so much more than my friend. He was my brother.” He sniffs. “And now I’m searching for a sign - just something that keeps me in this life.” I let my tears run freely as I identify his words as my own feelings. And I realise that we are two souls hurting from the same experiences building a connection to one another through the desperation of having lost any strength to keep living. “Without wanting to get too close to you, I think you just as broken inside as me.” He speaks up. His eyes are swollen and red, still glossy from fresh tears which haven’t stopped being reproduced and leaking out of the corner of his eyes. I strangely feel comfort in the detail that his blue pullover matches mine. My heart starts to pick up a pace as I cross a vulnerable line between us and say: “I think you can never be too close to someone. I’m sure closeness is what we both need the most now.” I gift him a teary smile which he returns with a faint tint of red across his cheeks. Our encounter feels like a big step for the both of us - coming out of our shells we’ve been hiding in like anxious snails and I could feel it in the beating behind my ripcage that it was towards the right direction.

[grey-water-colors]

After All This Time (Bucky x Fem!Reader) Part 4

It's short, but I cried writing it. I've hit a bit of a writers block, but I think I've got that sorted out. I just needed to take a thinking shower and I got it. This will be my longest series and I'm trying to eek it out a bit, but I'm still new at this, so please have patience.

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the figurative ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of torture, death, triggers. Mentions of humiliation. Sadness, depression, self-loathing. ANGST. Fluff comes next time I think.

Word Count: 2,066 Shorter than usual, but I think I make up for it in feels.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

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A knock at the door startles Y/N out of her thoughts. She hadn’t really left the apartment for anything other than her job, which was only two days a week. Despite having almost completely shutting down, the house was clean.

Y/N opened the door and gaped at the person on the other side.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve just smiled. “May I come in?”

She opened the door wider so Steve could walk through, then shut the door gently. She turned around and watched Steve walk to the couch on the opposite wall and take a seat. She opted to perch on the arm of the wingback.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve laughed quietly, amused with her. “I could say I just wanted to visit an old friend,” he smiled.

Y/N smiled but it fell as soon as it came. “But that isn’t the case is it?”

Steve sighed and she could see the same wear and tear in his eyes that every soldier carried around. He looked older, despite looking only in his 30’s. She supposed war does that to people though.

“I’m here to apologize for Bucky. He was out of line. I could hardly believe that he did what he did. I had hoped that if I gave him time, he would come here and do it himself.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him. I get it. I really do, and to a certain degree, he was right. But I have my own reasons for being here.”

Steve just nodded. “Has Sam told you about him?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t need to. I was there. I know full well what he went through.”

“I wish I knew-,” he paused. “I wish I knew how to help. To ease his burden.”

“We all have our crosses to carry, some heavier than others. What we, and hundreds of others, went through was a horrific experience that isn’t easily put into words. He seems better though, right?”

Steve nodded, looking for words, “He isn’t the same.”

“None of us are,” she whispered. “That’s not the point of it though. If you’re trying to get the old Bucky back then you’re beating a dead horse. Help him become who he is now. Someone with more baggage than any person should ever carry. Don’t try to change him.”

“I’ll work on that. Speaking of people who have changed, are you ok? Sam says you haven’t been down to the VA in a while. He’s getting worried.”

Y/N shrugged and looked away. She wasn’t ok, but if she told that to Steve, he would do everything in his power to help her and she didn’t want his kind of help.

She put on a small smile. “If we’re going to talk about people changing, I think we should talk about you. What happened to scrawny Steve? You were my height the last I saw you and now you’re a buff giant.”

He laughed. “I’ve a lot to catch you up on.”

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“Steve. Before you leave, I’ve got something that I was hoping you’d give to Jam- Bucky.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Y/N handed him a letter. The writing on the outside just said ‘Bucky’.

“I’ll get this to him.”

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There was a knock on Bucky’s door, then Steve walked in. Bucky looked at Steve with a look of sadness and self-loathing.

“What’d she say?” he whispered.

“That there was no reason to apologize.”

Bucky huffed. “Bullshit. I yelled at her. I called her weak and pathetic,” he looked away. “She would say something like that though.”

Steve sighed. “She gave me this to give to you.” He held out the letter.

“What’s in it?”

“No idea. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

Bucky nodded, reluctant to open it.

Steve stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll let you read that in peace. I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

Steve walked out and Bucky stared at the envelope in his hands. It was thick, and there was something small and lumpy in it.

He looked at, debating whether to open it or to put it in a drawer and leave it there till ate him alive. Curiosity got the best of him.

He opened the seal of the envelope with care, being sure not to rip it. When it was open he turned it over and something fell into his lap. His heart dropped.

There, on his lap, was the ring that been used to propose to her with. The last he had saw it, it had been nestled next her dog tags in the master bedroom. Why was it here?

He pulled out the folded paper and opened it. Smaller papers fell out onto his lap. They were old and had yellowed with time. He picked through some of them. His Social Security card, his birth certificate, and his bank papers. Everything he needed to restart his life outside of the avengers.

He finally started reading the letter.

~~~

Dear James,

Can I even call you James anymore? The only other person who called you that was your mother and maybe your sisters. There are so many things that I wanted to tell you when I saw you. To say to you, but then things, well you were there. I feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation.

As you know, I was to leave a week after you. My orders were to fly to London to work there for three weeks, then get new orders. That’s not important though. What is important is that week that I spent alone was torture.

I wasn’t raised ignorant of the troubles of the world. Just like the rest of our age, I grew up in the Great Depression. My parents lost their job, and we almost lost our house. I grew up with the aftermath of the first World War. According to my mother, my father never recovered. War does that to people. It rips away your soul, takes your very being. I knew that.

When the second World War started, I would lay awake next to you and pray that US wouldn’t get involved. It was my worst nightmare. When the US did join, I knew, somehow that our lives were over. You probably don’t remember that I spent almost every waking moment with you. I was so happy when you proposed, but heartbroken as well. I just knew.

Knew that we weren’t coming back.

I spent the days of that week after you left getting things in order. Papers in the lockbox, hide the lockbox key. Cover the furniture to preserve it. I took care of everything. I left the ring in the lockbox.

I spent my nights awake in your chair, wondering what you were doing. Wondering if you were thinking of me. I’ll never know.

I was in Germany during December of 44. I was traveling with a group of soldiers. Everything happened so fast. Gunshots, yelling, blood. So much blood. That shade of red in the snow will always be etched into my brain. The German soldiers took prisoners, I was one of them. Out of the 25 I was traveling with, I ended up being the only survivor.

I transferred into the hands of Hydra. A replacement for a dead lab rat. My predecessor. They tortured me for so long. Wore me down to nothing. Humiliated me for game.

Every night as I laid in my cell, all I could think of was you. The memories of us in those three years. How perfect they were.

Of course, they weren’t perfect. We had fights, but they were never too bad. The apartment itself wasn’t great either, but it was home. The ceiling leaked in the bathroom, the floors creaked in the hallway, and the water took fifteen minutes to heat up. When you’re being tortured though, I guess that the mind only sees the good. I fixated on the apartment. It became the safe place. The only place in the world where the monsters couldn’t get to me. I held onto this place as long as I could.

But as much as the apartment was my safe place, all my memories of it were with you. So you had melted into that feeling of safety.

After they blocked away those memories, I didn’t even know they were gone. I became their puppet, a lab rat with no past or identity. Until I met you again. I didn’t know you, those memories were tucked away. My heart knew you though. I felt safe around you, which didn’t make sense because you were the Winter Soldier. Oh, but we worked well together. We did a couple missions, and I was living off an emotion I didn’t even know the name to.

Love. I didn’t know what that word even meant anymore, or what it felt like, but my heart reminded me every time you looked at me.

In the end, it was my fault that you ended up with the trauma you carry around pertaining to me. I got emotional when it was time to go, and we both suffered the consequences for it.

That happened in 1997. I went onto ice for the last time with a damaged windpipe, minor brain damage, and no memories to speak of. I was sent to Africa, and was going to be undergoing testing there, but my handlers got killed. I remained on ice for 27 years until Wakandan soldiers found me.

Shuri worked for 6 months to get rid of all the damage done to me with help of the notes that traveled with me. I spent 7 more months drowning in everything. I remembered everything. Every test, every horrid thing they did to me. But the worst part was remembering you. Remembering you and knowing what happened to you broke me.

It turns out I was right all along. We weren’t going back. I had to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t going to come back to me. So I reveled in the memories of you. Of us.

I had so many emotional setbacks, I was stuck reliving memories just from small triggers. A wrong look could send me spiraling into a black hole. But then I’d remember the apartment.

I couldn’t wait to go back. The one thing that had kept me sane, alive, and hopeful. The king paid for a plane ticket and I was back in New York. I wasn’t ready.

I had been so stuck in remembering that I didn’t, couldn’t, process the new. Still I persisted, until I could be in that apartment again. I had convinced myself that it would fix everything.

That it would fix me.

But you probably know that isn’t how life works. Those same memories that propelled me and kept me afloat, are now the anchor that drags me under. I’m drowning in the memories, and they cling to me. I’m trapped in a prison of my own making, unable to leave the ghosts haunting my memories of things that will never be again.

I stay awake at night reliving the days where I was happy, carefree, and in-love. But the truth is that I can’t sleep in the bed we shared because you aren’t in it. I can’t look at pictures of us, because we aren’t them anymore. I can’t wear the ring, because we are strangers.

So I live in a museum of things that shouldn’t exist anymore because I can’t move on. This apartment is killing me inside, but I can’t leave because I’ve convinced myself that this is the only place I’ll be safe.

The truth is, I am safe in this apartment, because the only thing that can hurt me here is myself.

Along with this letter, I’m also returning the ring. It belongs to you. I have also included your bank account numbers, so that you can access your accounts. I’m sure you won’t have as much trouble as I did.

I’d offer you a key, but I don’t think you’d ever want to step foot in here again. Truthfully, if I were you, I wouldn’t either, lest you get stuck here too.

Maybe in another life we could have been together longer, but just not in this one.

Love,

Sincerely,

Y/N