#while the people she screeches about being 'abusers' had no power over her while she threw her weight around to threaten them

[kuruttameanscrazed]

the times kurutta SEEMS to get it but if you communicate with her about this as she supposedly wishes everybody should do? no.

no. you do not want to. you've made a mistake in telling the truth. you are wrong and kurutta is right. many have learned this the hard way.

kurutta can eviscerate and mock eventual ex-friends who dared vent, either to their faces or to others on how "negative and hateful" they were for not just shutting up and instantly moving on from traumatic events. that osomatsu-san blogger she used to like but hated and blamed and ranted to you about for why karamatsu is bad for k's holy self now would probably even ~let a rapist live rent-free~ with how they just wouldn't stfu about how traumatized they were from their shitty life and how they hated fandom, sayeth kurutta who says that was all cosmic karma because that blogger unfriended her bestie jaymz and that's abuse. and then those other ffxiv fans she was at odds with are horrible and fake victims too, rar! SHE is victim, they're just playing it!

it's all about KURUTTA! she wants all the space for HER vents and despair in the chat or your personal one on one messages. she will always want to overtake it all and send piles of words, but trying to match that energy by typing a lot back at her is wrong and bad. you dare abuse her by making her read a lot and exhaust her energy, or have to see your attitude back at her when she was shitty to you? never! you're supposed to be the bigger man, omg, but don't you dare ignore her either.

kurutta can make gross cracks about other ND people and what basket cases they are and inherently unlovable for their shortcomings, but needs everybody to give her not just understanding and compassion, but to let whatever behaviors she exhibits slide like it's nothing. it's easier for her to play oblivious and pretend she just doesn't know why she loses so many people, even after tweeting about how she knows she's got issues.

[nothingtherefornow]

Honestly, the fact that people to get so offended over the idea of Chloe and Lila being worse than Gabriel. Kind of makes me roll my eyes ar people screeching about the misogny of two teenage girls being called evil.

Both Chloe and Lila have both have been shown to knowingly willingly try to take advantage of the fact that Gabriel is an abuser to use for their benefits…

The reason I honestly agree with the assessment that they are both worse than Gabriel comes down to one simple thing. If you took away the miraculous from Gabriel, he probably wouldn’t have the guts to do literally any of the stuff that he does. All his confidence and all his power to do what he does come from the fact that he has that magical brooch.

Chloe and Lila have both been shown to not need a miraculous to want to do evil things to people. It is it so shocking to people the idea that teenage girls can be pretty awful coming from a girl who was frequently bullied by other teenage girls yeah teens can be awful to each other.

Portraying something in fiction doesn’t equate to condoning/normalizing behavior.

I adore this analysis of yours ^^ ! Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts :) Even if I'm a girl myself I was a little bothered that fans felt so ofended over the idea that Lila and Chloé could be worse than Gabriel. But for me it was kinda logic that they would be worse than him, because they are supposed to be the next Big baddies once Monarch is out of the picture. And Ladybug and Chat Noir became strong enough that the ml writters will have to put them against crazier villains in order to rise up the stakes

I had never thought of the kind of person Gabriel would be without the butterfly miraculous, but I think we had a glimpse of it in the episode Queen Wasp where he was ready to stop everything for Adrien's sake (and he even complimented Marinette, while in this season 5 she seems to be the second person he despises the most after Ladybug T_T). It is also the period when Gabriel had not yet developed the habit of controlling Adrien with his amok. Gabriel had not been totally corrupted by power yet in this episode, while for season 5 there is no doubt that he has descended into madness and took a liking to evil, but it was a slow descent into hell, he got worse every season, and his abusive, toxic and obsessive behavior also escalated.

Chloé and Lila on the other hand ... They're different. Of course there was a period when Chloé softened between season 2 and season 3, but the Derision episode will show us how bad she really was, and unfortunatelly became once again. This episode will also reveal how much Chloé has a very twisted and wicked view of how the world works.

And Lila is no better, if not worse. I still get goosebumps thinking back to this scene when she's cutting Marinette's face from a bunch of photos she took from a distance either by herself or by paying somoene to do it, declaring loud and clear "soon you'll have no one and nothing left Marinette". My only though after this scene was : PSYCHOPATH !

And I don't know if you've read the bible, but (SPOILER WARNING FOR THIS PARAGRAPH !) the fact that Lila can go as far as managing 3 false identities at the same time just to get attention and popularity is kinda messed up. Also her intelligence level must be as good as Felix's if she can pull something like that so easilly (also it probably helps her that most ml character are guillible dummies ^^')

And let's not forget that Chloé and Lila willingly got themselves akumatized at one point just because they were offended. They are willing to wreck havoc for the most pettiest reasons of all.

And also, while during season 5 Gabriel is mostly motivated by his madness and hunger for power and control, his original purpose was still intriguing and understandable, to bring a loved one back to life.

Lila and Chloé on the other hands, what do they want, what are their motivations ? Simple : destroying the life of another teenager girl who barely did anything to them. They are only motivated by petty jealousy and the desire to hurt.

Because yeah Chloé always enjoyed hurting Marinette more than anyone else even before she became jealous of her, and Lila seems to have developped an hate-obsession toward Marinette even more intense than the hate she feels for Ladybug, and for what ? Just because Marinette called Lila out for her lies twice or thrice and is currently Adrien's girlfriend ? The boy both Lila and Chloé covet llike he's a thing to possess ?

When there is no rationality behind someone's motives, only madness remains. And crazy antagonists who take pleasure in making others miserable can sometimes be even more terrifying than rich powerfull business man obsessed with power.

There's no denying anymore that both Lila and Chloé are not only bad persons, but also a little deranged in their head. So what happens when you give wicked teenagers more power than they already have ? They become worse, because if they can get away with hurting even more people because that's something they enjoy, what's really stopping them ?

What the fans seem to ignore is that even at 14 years old, people can be pretty messed up in real life. It's much rarer than adults doing evil around them that's for sure, but it happens. I even remember a real case where two young girls below 12 years old murdered a 2 years old kid and an old lady just "for fun". And there's many others example with boys, some can even start committing rape when they're just 14. So why is it that hard to beleive that 14 years old girls have the potential to be more evil than an adult man when they grow up ?

Also can we really talk about misoginy when the main hero character who must face those two crazy girls is also a girl herself ? And when said girl is the protagnoist while her boy partner is the deuteragonist ?

Miraculous Ladybug seems to focus much more on the performances of its female characters like Kagami, Alya, Alix and Zoé for example. And then the star characters of the New York and Shanghai specials were also female. The series has probably chosen two female characters as the future antagonists who will be "worse" than the previous one, because they are characters that we have known since season 1 as rivals of the heroine, and who also evolved alongside the season, but towards the path of evil. After all, when the good becomes better, the bad must become worse.

But I think the detail that might show that fans are wrong to howl mysoginia is that somehow, Gabriel is the one who gave Chloe and Lila opportunities to become even worse. His akumatizations and plans involving Chloe and Lila can be seen as a way of corrupting the two young girls, their viciousness is something Gabriel has always indirectly encouraged for his plans. So is it so surprising then that the student would manage to surpass the master ?

For those who have read the bible, I seem to remember that the synopsis of an episode mentioned Chloe and Lila as "the best minions and allies of Monarch" So if Chloé and Lila became worse than Gabriel, it's because Gabriel himself influenced them.

[chaozsilhouette]

A Father’s Love

Another piece for @winterpower98's Swap Au.

I don’t really have a time frame for this scene, but with all the horror MK has had to endure in this AU I couldn’t help myself. I just needed a bit of fluff to break up my writing. Plus, I am all for Tang showing just how much he loves MK and being a protective father figure.

The poor boy needs a break, but we all know it won’t last.

_____________________________

“Well now, aren’t you a stubborn human.” Sun Wukong mused as he took in the one who dared to separate him from his creation.

The ground was split in a dozen directions. Craters dotted the landscape. The scent of volatile magic soaked the air. Yet, in the center of all this was a small circle of undisturbed land where his boy and the human stood unharmed.

The human didn’t look particularly impressive. If he had to guess, somewhere in his early to late thirties. He was obviously healthy but still suffered from the weaknesses all humans share. No, what truly caught his attention was the strangest sensation he knew this human. Almost as if the golden fillet was readying itself by his mere presence.

The human’s talent in magic was nothing to scoff at. Admittedly, it was nothing he couldn’t brush off, but seeing a human wielding so much raw power was supposed to be nearly impossible in this modern age. However, defying the odds here one stood before him trying to keep him from one of his treasures.

He was not alone in his curiosity. The Monkey King watched as MK stared at the bespeckled man in utter surprise.

“Since when could you do that?!” The newly revealed monkie demon all but screeched.

“Not too long.” The scholar cryptically stated.

His annoyance at the lack of an answer freed Mk of his fear. Just enough to swallow his need to be supported during this horrible moment and say what needed to be said. “You’ve got to run! Forget about me and get the others to safety!”

“I’d listen to my son if I were you, human.” The tyrant stated with a cocky smirk. “Since he’s started to learn his lesson about where he belongs I can be generous. You can take all your friends back home to rest up and we can continue another day.”

With a trembling hand, MK desperately gripped Tang’s pant leg. Praying that his love would be translated behind his pathetic display. “Please. I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” They were the kindest people he ever had the pleasure of knowing. He couldn’t bear knowing they got hurt trying to save him. The only reason they were in this crisis was because of him. If he hadn’t been so weak...

If he didn’t allow himself to be used, Wukong would still be trapped.

“Mk, you know I can’t leave anyone behind to suffer this tyrant’s hospitality.” The word was hissed out with more venom than a viper pit. “Especially not after learning of Macaque’s past.” Tang adjusted his stance so his side now supported the youth. His fingers twitched randomly, his eyes remained locked onto the armored demon. “Besides, we both know Mei would gut the two of us if we even think of considering it.”

It made no sense. They were in the presence of a being that filled the nightmares of all, from the lowliest human to celestial kings, yet young simian couldn’t help but smile. “Good point.” Compared to the Monkey Tyrant the young dragon was an insect, but she had earned the fear that accompanied her ire.

“Such a touching display. But do you really think you will be able to give him what he needs? That others will accept who he really is? You can say you love him until the sun blows up, but it will never change the fact he is me.” The Monkey King’s smile showed nothing but cruel amusement, but his tail betrayed his fraying patience.

“Do you take me for a fool? It doesn’t matter what he looks like, where he came from, or how he started out. He is my Son! And I refuse to let anyone abuse his kind heart ever again!”

Two hands slammed into the ground with unnatural force. Mystic runes and circles filled the air as the battlefield was bathed in a gentle yellow light. Golden ropes wrapped around the Tyrant as the earth formed a five-sided fortress around him. Symbols were burned into each side, somehow not concealing the burning rage from Sun Wukong’s enraged expression.

With that done, Tang grabbed MK’s hand and ran knowing full well both their lives depended on it. “Come on! That won’t distract him for long.”

Or at all. They hadn’t cleared five meters before they started to rocks crumble and mystic bindings viciously snap.

Somehow the two of them were able to reunite with Macaque and Mei in order to get some much-needed distance without any major obstacles. It was silently agreed that the Moneky Tyrant had let them leave. Why? They didn’t want to think about it. All they could do was patch themselves up and think of a new plan.

_____________________________

Pigsy treated them all to a delicious meal, after yelling at the four of them for tangling with the Monkey King. About how they could have gotten killed and berating them for thinking about leaving them behind. Tang was certain Pigsy’s volume was the only reason Macaque looked uncomfortable.

That night they all stayed with Sandy. It was agreed that they should stick together until the heat dies down. Mei stepped out to call her parents to warn them about ... everything. While Macaque had essentially taken over as her father figure it didn’t mean her birth parents were no longer a target. Macaque aided Sandy in setting up the spare rooms. Piggy was just cleaning up dinner and preparing a few things for breakfast.

Leaving Tang to begin creating wards to hang around the boat and MK to uncomfortably sit as he stared at the scholar.

“Why did you do that?”

Tang pushed up his glasses, looking more grave than the teen ever recalled seeing.

“I was preparing that spell the moment I opened my mouth. I figured after that outburst it was only a matter of time before he got bored playing nice and when for the kill. Despite what movies would make you believe, talking is not a free action.” His precious disciples learned that lesson the hard way.

“No. I mean...when you said all that stuff, did you really mean it? You view me as a son?” MK could barely get the last word out. It felt like all of this was just a wonderful dream and when he awoke he’d be back on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Tang set down his brush to fully face the demon. “Of course, I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He poured his entire soul into that truth, a fact he was proud to scream to the heavens.

“Even when I look like this?” Sharing the same face of the demon who caused so much pain and suffering. He could barely stand it, but the thought of continuing to live in his human form just felt even more unbearable. He was tired of lies. Tired of being used.

“So you look like a demon monkey, big deal." Tang waved off the concern, regaining his trademark confident sass. "Last I checked, we are close with several demons one of which is a rather famous monkey. At your core, you are still the same MK we grew to know and care about. You may have started out as Wukong’s clone, but you have come a long way since then.”

Seeing that the boy was still unconvinced, Tang wrapped his arms around the child’s shoulders and brought him in for a hug. “You will always have a place with me, with any of us. You are loved and appreciated, Xiǎotiān. Never forget that.” Circles were slowly traced on his back as shaky breathing gradually evened out.

Xiǎotiān nuzzled his father’s neck. Taking in the scent of aged paper, ink, and tea. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course.” Gentle fingers slowly combed through his hair.

The world was falling into the depths of madness, but in this moment Xiǎotiān could deceive himself into believing everything would work out.

[meganwritesfanfics]

Fresh Bruises (Josh Lyman x Reader) Part 1

WARNING This story contains mention of domestic abuse

“The speech was amazing Mr. President.” Y/N said as she walked next to her boyfriend her arm linked with his. 

“Thank you Y/N, but the credit really goes to Sam and Toby.” President Bartlett said as the whole entourage made their way through the halls of the hotel. 

“I would sir, but I wouldn’t want them to get a big head.” Y/N laughed.

“You know you two are really made for each other.” CJ laughed as she walked next to Josh. 

Josh smiled as he kissed the side of Y/N’s head. 

For a moment everything seemed to be going fine. The speech had gone amazing, everyone was feeling good about it, people were happy, including Toby. That was until Leo, who had been on the phone turned around to look at everyone, a worried look on his face. 

Quickly Josh turned to look at Y/N. 

“Go, I will stay back here with CJ.” Y/N said as she reached out and straightened his tie. 

“I love you.” Josh said kissing her cheek before he headed up to Leo and the President with Toby and Sam following quickly behind. 

“It’s probably nothing,” CJ tried to soothe even though Y/N knew otherwise. Leo and Josh were very similar in the sense of when something was really wrong, it was pretty easy to tell. “I can’t believe you gave up working in the White House just to date him.” She teased, pointing towards Josh who was having a hard time not glancing back to look at Y/N. 

“I loved working at the White House, don't get me wrong, but I have always wanted to be a family law practitioner. Plus I love Josh and he... “ Y/N started when suddenly she saw a man standing in the hallway to the side. It was a face she hadn’t seen in a long while. 

“Y/N?” CJ asked, looking at her questioningly. “Is everything ok? Do you know him?” 

“He’s an old...friend.” Y/N said with disdain. “I will catch up with you guys.” 

CJ smiled hesitantly before she walked away. 

By the time they had made it outside both Sam and Toby were on the phone. Leo was talking to Bartlet and Josh had finally broken away looking for CJ and Y/N.  Through the crowd he could make out  CJ but he couldn’t see Y/N anywhere. 

“CJ!” He called as he made his way over to her. “Where is Y/N” 

“She saw someone she knew inside and stopped to talk to him.”

“Him?” Josh said a slight bit of jealousy in his voice. 

“Yeah, I recognized him but I couldn’t figure out why, but something felt really off about the whole situation.” CJ started and suddenly a knot formed in Josh’s stomach. 

“CJ, what did he look like.” Josh said as he grabbed onto CJ’s shoulders firmly and in such a way that scared CJ.

“Josh, I don’t know I just saw him for a moment he…” She started when suddenly her focus shifted to behind Josh. “Like him Josh.” She pointed as Josh quickly spun around. The knot in his stomach grew, so much so that Josh felt like he was going to throw up. The man he saw was one he had not seen in two years and one he had hoped he would never see again. 

“You are a giant brat you know that right.” Y/N said storming into Josh Lyman’s office. 

“A brat wow I don’t think I have heard that one since the 3rd grade.” Josh smiled looking up from the report he was reading. 

“You cannot just invite me to go with you to the gala. And you especially cannot ask Donna to ask me.”  Y/N exclaimed however there was no anger in her voice only amusement. 

“Well I couldn’t be expected to trudge my way all the way to your office just to ask you to go to an event you should have been invited to in the first place.” Josh laughed. 

“If you couldn’t be bothered to come to my office then why should I be bothered to go to the gala with you.” Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Oh don’t act like you are not stoked to be going to the gala. Donna said you haven’t been able to stop talking about wanting to go, so I figured I would help you out.” 

“Oh thanks for the pity ticket.” Y/N said her voice changing slightly as she turned to leave his office. 

“Hey wait.” Josh quickly said as he stood up rushing towards Y/N grabbing her wrist. 

Quickly Y/N instinctively flinched away pulling her sleeve down trying to hide the bruises. 

Josh took a step back, lowering his head slightly. “It was not out of pity.” 

Y/N reached out taking Josh’s hand. “Thank you Josh, but I can’t go with you. I’m with Henry.” 

Josh let go of her hand quickly running it through his hair as he made his way back behind his desk. “No, yeah, I know that. I was just thinking we could go as coworkers, and friends.” 

“I would love that, but I don’t think Henry would see it that way.” There was a silence between the two filled with tension. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to go with you.” Y/N said looking down. 

“Are you sure, I could always talk to Henry.” 

“No, please don’t do that, if you talk to him, I can’t have you, he won’t…” Y/N said completely flustered. 

“Hey, hey, hey” Josh quickly said rushing towards Y/N but being cautious not to grab her, not wanting to scare her. “It’s ok, I won’t talk to him if you don’t want me to.”  Slowly he placed his hand on her arm. He looked down at her hand seeing the bruise around her wrist that couldn’t be hidden by her shirt. “Y/N. Are you ok? Does Henry…” Josh couldn’t find the words to say just exactly what he was thinking without upsetting her more. 

“Does Henry what?” A voice said causing Y/N to nearly jump out of her skin. 

Both Josh and Y/N quickly turned to see Henry standing in the doorway, arms crossed. 

“Henry!” Y/N gasped jumping back away from Josh. “What are you doing here honey?” 

“Well I came here to see if you wanted to get lunch.” Henry said with almost a growl. 

“I just… Josh was…” Y/N said panicking and Josh could see the fear in her eyes. 

“I had a legal question, Y/N was just helping me out.” Josh quickly said trying to come to her rescue. 

“Ah, I see.” Henry said quickly changing his focus from Y/N to Josh with a wicked glare. “Y/N can I speak with you in your office.” 

“Yeah of course. Josh I will.” Y/N gulped. “I will see you later.” 

Josh knew he should have said something, he knew he should have done everything in his power to stop Y/N from going with him. But he didn’t. He thought they were in the White House for god sakes, Henry wasn’t that stupid. Plus Y/N’s secretary would be outside her office, she would hear if anything was happening. That was what Josh kept telling himself. But he couldn’t focus on anything but wanting to head to her office. 

“Donna!” He finally yelled after about an hour of rereading the same sentence. “Will you call Y/N’s assistant and set up a meeting.” 

“Celia said that Y/N gave her the rest of the day off.” Donna called back immediately, sending a knot into Josh’s stomach as he quickly stood up heading towards Y/N’s office. 

“Josh, Josh where are you going?” He could hear Donna call but he was on a mission. 

“Josh.” Toby quickly said as he walked by Josh, noticing how pale he was. 

“Follow me.” Josh said not even stopping. 

Toby quickly did as he was told, catching up to Josh who was nearly sprinting down the walls of the White House. 

“Josh what is going on, what is wrong?” Toby tried to say but Josh was too focused, too scared about what he was going to find when he got to that office. All that came to a screeching halt when he saw Henry. Josh froze causing Toby to almost collide with him. 

“Josh what are we…” Toby started as Josh threw up a hand to shush him. They watched as the nervous man came out of Y/N’s office, looking around frantically when suddenly he made eye contact with Josh. Instantly Josh knew, he knew what had happened. As Josh took a step forward, Henry took off. Instead of focusing on the man who ran, the two men bolted inside the office. 

As soon as the door opened they could see the destruction. There were papers tossed everywhere, chairs were knocked over, books had been pulled out of the bookcase and were now on the floor. 

“Oh my God.” Toby gasped.

Josh didn’t have words as his eyes suddenly landed on the form of Y/N who was laying on the floor behind her desk. Quickly he ran to her noticing the bruises and the bloody gash on her forehead. “Call someone!” 

Toby left, leaving Josh who had scooped Y/N into his lap as he assessed the damage. Y/N had a busted lip, her nose was bleeding potentially broken and the gash was bleeding through the cloth Josh had ripped from his shirt and placed there. 

“Y/N, wake up ok, I need you to wake up.” Josh pleaded, looking up to see Toby standing in the doorway again. 

Suddenly Y/N woke up gasping as she looked around the room. For a moment she didn’t remember what had happened, that was until she looked into Josh’s eyes. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Josh quickly asked and Toby ran over to join Josh kneeling next to them. 

“What, oh yeah, I uh… I just fell. I must have hit my head on the desk. I’m so clumsy sometimes I…” Y/N rambled sitting up not looking either of the two men in the eyes. 

“Y/N, stop.” Josh said forcefully, causing her to look him in the eye. 

“I just…” Y/N tried again but tears had started to form in her eyes. She couldn’t do it, she didn’t have an excuse, she didn’t have anything she could hide behind. When she looked at the two men before her, she knew that there was no more hiding it. “Josh.” She cried as she began sobbing. 

“Hey, shhh” Josh said wrapping his arms around her. “It’s ok, he’s not going to get away with it. We are going to call…” 

“No!” Y/N quickly exclaimed grabbed Josh’s arm tightly. “You can’t call the police. You can’t.” 

“Y/N, Henry just beat the living crap out of you. And I take it this isn’t the first time.” Josh said, causing Y/N to look down at her bruised wrists. 

“Josh, you don’t understand he works for the police. He is the police.” Y/N said looking back up at Josh, whose heart broke seeing how damaged she was. 

Josh hesitated for a moment, all he wanted to do was see that son of a bitch burn, but he knew that he couldn’t force Y/N to do anything she didn’t want to. 

“Ok, we won’t call the police but I’m not letting him near you again.” Josh growled protectively holding onto Y/N. 

“Josh, I live with him all of my stuff is at his place I can’t…” Y/N started again but Josh shook his head. 

“You can stay with me until you find another place and Toby and I will go pick up all of your stuff Y/N. You don’t need to be afraid of him anymore. I won’t let him hurt you again I promise.” 

“I don’t want him to hurt you guys.” Y/N cried leaning into Josh more. 

Josh smiled slightly as he gently kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “Don’t worry Y/N we will be careful.”

“Thank you Josh.” Y/N smiled at him as the paramedics came into the room. 

Josh was true to his word, he hadn’t let Henry near Y/N again, at least not alone. He took care of her and let her stay at his place. She never found a new apartment though because it wasn’t long before the two began dating. Y/N had quit working at the White House because she knew it was a conflict of interest to be on the legal counsel for the White House and to be dating a White House Staffer, but more importantly, she really wanted to work in family law. Their life together wasn’t perfect but the two wouldn’t ask for it any other way. And after more than a year and a half of dating Josh knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N. 

That’s what made seeing Henry even more terrifying for Josh. And as he looked at the man and looked into his eyes. Josh saw the same look he had seen two years ago in the White House, but this time Josh looked down to see a knife in Henry’s hands. 

“Y/N!” Josh screamed as he took off running back into the hotel. CJ followed quickly behind him leading Josh back to where she had last seen Y/N. 

Josh felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. As he ran through the halls he prayed to every god he could think of that he would find Y/N and she would be fine. But as CJ stopped in the hallway pointing to where she had last seen Y/N, and as Josh saw a single high heeled shoe, one that matched exactly the kind of shoes Y/N had been wearing he knew that the likelihood of her being ok was slim. 

“Y/N!” Josh screamed again as he ran in the same direction of the shoe. 

At this point Toby and Sam had made there way into the hotel, after informing the secret service that they needed to get the president away, they didn’t know if there was an immediate threat but they knew something was wrong.

“Josh I saw Henry what was he doing here I thought he moved out of D.C.” Toby said as he followed after Josh. 

“I don’t know but he had a…” Josh started when suddenly he looked up to see a bloody handprint on the wall. 

“Oh God.” CJ gasped, her hand instinctively going over her mouth. 

Josh bent forward feeling as though he wanted to throw up. He knew that he needed to keep looking for Y/N, that he needed to find her, but he was so scared, so terrified of what he was going to find that his body wouldn’t move. 

“Josh, Josh we need to keep going.” Sam pleaded with him gently laying his hand on his back. 

Josh nodded straightening back up as he continued down the hall following the bloody handprints and pools of blood that trailed their way down. Toby had made his way a few feet ahead of them and as he turned a corner following the blood he quickly backed up as he turned white. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Josh could barely say his voice cracking so hard the words were barely audible. He quickly ran over to where Toby was looking down the hallway, and when he saw it his knees gave out as he fell to the floor. “No, no, no” He cried as he began to crawl to the body of Y/N who lay unconscious on the floor surrounded by blood. “Y/N” Josh cried as he pulled her into his arms. Her face was beaten and was already starting to bruise and as he looked down trying to assess the damage he saw the source of the bleeding, a giant gash in Y/N's stomach. “Oh god!” He gasped trying to take off his jacket but Toby beat him to it, placing his jacket on Y/N’s stomach applying pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Baby, please wake up, I need you to wake up. Y/N I love you please.” Josh pleaded as he kissed each bruise on her face, his tears mixing in with the blood. 

“Josh, she has a pulse, but it’s faint we need to get her help.” Sam said. 

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine my love.” Josh said as he picked up Y/N walking as fast as he could out of the hotel where he found a slew of secret service waiting. 

“What happened?” 

“Where did the suspect go?” 

The questions came at lighting speed and Josh knew he should answer them but his mind was only focused on the woman in his arms. A woman who he couldn’t imagine living without. 

Toby quickly jumped in answering as many questions as he could as Josh made his way towards the ambulance that was waiting. 

He could hear people talking to him, but his mind couldn’t process what they were saying. All he could do was stare down at Y/N’s face, watching as his tears fell hitting her cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He cried. 

He felt someone reaching out to grab Y/N and he instinctively pulled away. 

“What is your name,” A voice said and Josh finally looked up to see a kind paramedic looking at him her eyes soft. 

“Josh,” He spoke softly, his voice broken. “Joshua Lyman.” 

“Ok Josh, I need you to let us help her ok. You can stay right by her side but I need you to let us take care of her.”  

Josh hesitated for a moment before he nodded and handed Y/N over to the paramedics, his hands shaking. 

“Good, now tell me about her,” The paramedics continued as the other began to strap wires to Y/N and began bandaging her up. 

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N she is my girlfriend.” Josh continued his eyes staring at Y/N his breathing getting more and more rapid. 

“We are going to take care of Y/N, don’t worry ok, but I need you to stay calm ok, I think you are going into shock.” The paramedic continued. 

“I just…” 

“Josh!” A voice screamed and he turned to see Toby running up to the ambulance with Sam and CJ following behind. “We will meet you at the hospital, I’m going to call Leo and tell him what happened.” 

Josh just nodded his eyes were wide and everyone could see that he was extremely pale. 

“It’s going to be ok,” Sam said trying his best to be positive about the situation. 

“Alright Josh, we have to get going ok,” The paramedic said. 

Josh nodded again and as the doors began to shut to the ambulance he watched as Toby looked at him, tears in his eyes, as he placed his hands on his heart.

[pigeonp0st]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

#7 Part 2

Words: 2,365

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: love, angst, trauma

Notes:

A part 2 was requested so a part 2 is here. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. I’m not sure if anyone notices but here, and in the first part, i’m really experimenting with my writing. If anyone reads these notes let me know if you like it...(also sorry for the sorta abrupt ending. The Word count was getting far too high.)

—————

Natasha looks at you and sometimes she wonders how exactly they had broken you. She wonders how they put out your flames.

Sometimes she thinks that maybe it was simple, like they poured water over you and watched as the flames died into embers.

Other times, more commonly, she thinks it was more difficult than that, she thinks that maybe putting them out—your flames— was challenging, and that people got burned in their efforts. She thinks that maybe it had taken an entire crew of people who specialize in putting out peoples flames. Firefighters.

Then, one day, watching you sleep with peace that you now only have when you’re unconscious; she thinks she knows.

They poured water over an oil fire—you’re oil fire—over and over again, and left it to burn, burn, burn, until everything around you was ash. Until you finally stopped and looked around at the nothingness and wondered what you were burning for in the first place.

The thought makes Natasha furious. She wants to wake you up just so she can tell you, so that she can shout that; your strength isn’t a distinguishable flame, and that you are not as small as a forest, that you are an ocean, and your strength is the waves, your strength is a whirlpool, your strength is a typhoon, and you are simply infinite.

To Natasha—to Natasha you are infinite.

She doesn’t tell you that though, she can’t while you’re still so reluctant to talk about what happened, she can’t when her love and her reassurances are like water to the oil fire you limit yourself to, and you’re still so scared of burning everything away.

——

You’re so scared of what it will mean to be strong again, but you want it so badly anyways.

You muse with no small amount of humor if that makes you brave, then you laugh because what a funny concept.

You were brave, you remember, when Hydra began their abuse and their nightmare pills and their cruelty. You were brave, and you were strong, and it was so much harder than just giving in but it didn’t make you hate yourself as much.

You were brave and strong, and Natasha loved you, and then you weren’t and she still loved you anyways.

——-

Natasha’s been tasked to call you downstairs for the weekly ‘Avenger family dinner’. She checks her room (you’re there more often than not again), and when she doesn’t find you there she checked yours.

You’re not there either, and she can’t hear the shower to your bathroom but she pushes it open anyways—just in case.

She’s gotten used to not knocking...she doesn’t even consider it anymore. She doesn’t even stop to realize that she hasn’t seen you without clothes since you were rescued, and that maybe there’s a reason for that, she just opens the bathroom door and stops so completely when she sees you her legs hurt from the abruptness.

You’re there staring so blankly in the mirror Natasha knows you’re not really looking at it—you’re looking through it at things she can’t ever see.

You don’t realize she’s there, but she’s there. She’s there, and you’re naked with scars she’s never seen before littered across your skin like shells on a beach.

Scattered and many. Too many to count. Too many.

Natasha stops, and the world stops, and infinity stops. Everything stops—at least to her it seems that way, because how can anything possibly exist outside this moment.

How can there be other lives and how can there be more pain in the world than this when this moment feels like it is already too much more than Natasha can handle—too much for the world to handle even.

Natasha has known logically that they had tortured you, you are the evidence—you obviously told her too—but none of your evidence is...touchable. Physically.

It’s been visual—yeah—but not like this.

This is...this is violence, and cruelty, when since you’ve been back you have only been the exact opposite. This is red lines and scars not quite healed yet forming constellations and shooting stars and hope.

Hope because you have survived so much violence, and yet here you are, still so good. Natasha wants to reach out and touch them—touch your scars and make wishes against them because she thinks that maybe your strength has the power to do anything.

Tears fill her eyes and fall over her cheeks and suddenly all she can think of is how you shouldn’t have to be that strong. No one should have to be.

She wanted to protect you. All she has ever wanted to do is protect you, and yet here you are.

Here you are, staring into a mirror unseeing and conscious but not there, with a look in your eyes Natasha has only seen in nightmares where she’s failed you—and you’re trying. You’re trying even now and Natasha wants to be there for you but this isn’t something she can hold your hand through.

This isn’t something she can kiss and make better. There’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing she can do and the simple fact rips away at her heart and leaves it bleeding out with it’s helplessness.

And then, and then you turn around.

The world starts moving again.

It starts moving and her heart stops bleeding—stiched up with her love for you—and you have never looked so sad but you have always looked so beautiful.

“I think,” Natasha whispers, voice throaty and full of shooting stars, “I think I love you more than I ever have. I think—” she pauses then, thinking of infinities, “I think my love for you is infinite.”

Your mouth parts open just slightly, and your eyes widen just that bit more. “Nat…” you stutter out wobbly, eyes filling with tears.

Natasha blinks, shocked and guilty for making you cry, but then you release a smile so bright and simply glowing Natasha can only think of stars again.

You’re laughing in the next instant, laughing and crossing your arms over your torso, digging your fingers into your arms, and then sobbing. Sobbing but somehow still laughing, and Natasha is crossing the bathroom and wrapping her arms around you like seaweed being pulled in by ocean waves.

“I think,” you gasp out between breaths, pulling away slightly to meet Natasha’s eyes, “I think that you’re going to beat me to it.”

“To what?”

“To putting my pieces back together,” you answer like it’s obvious. “You seem to do it so easily, yet when I try the pieces don’t quite fit right.”

Natasha cups your cheek and simply smiles. “Oh baby, look at how many pieces you’ve already put back.”

You don’t know what she’s talking about for a moment, Natasha can tell, but when it hits you it’s obvious. “I...I don’t flinch anymore.”

“Not around your friends. Not in the compound,” Natasha confirms, feeling a part of your joy when you screech like a child on Christmas and tightly wrap your arms around her neck.

Natasha thinks that maybe she—you—will get by just by just fine without a wish upon a star.

——-

There’s a silent argument going on, an argument that only shows itself on the floors of the training room and seeps out of the both of you like it was never there the moment you leave.

Natasha’s begun training with you again but she clearly doesn’t want to be there.

You don’t want to be there with her either if the whole time you’re training with her she’s going to be so...loud. Loud but silent. You can hear her shouting at you—accusations, pleads, and why’s. Why, why, why, you can hear Natasha ask.

Why are you doing this?

You don’t have the answers she’s seeking, not any that would appeal to her anyways, and it’s exhausting—exhausting because this is you trying to glue some pieces back where they belong and all Natasha see’s is you forcing them together when they don’t fit.

It’s infuriating, and heartwarming, and tiring, and when you’ve finally had enough of it you decide to try and train with someone else—Steve—but you’re trembling the whole fight and your insides don’t burn, they quake, and your nauseous; nauseous because he moves too quickly, because he’s reaching for you but it’s not him, it’s not him, and you’re dying, you’re dying, you can’t breathe— Natasha is there.

Natasha is there, arms wrapped around your torso and angry, but this time it’s not at you, it’s at Steve, and it’s Steve again, not some Hydra agent. It’s your friend.

Steve is looking guilty and sad, like a kicked puppy, and Natasha is yelling, and then Steve says something, something and suddenly she’s looking guilty too, guilty and sad.

Not like a kicked puppy though, like a betrayed one.

“Why are you doing this, Y/N?” Natasha asks quietly. Steve is gone. Where did he go? When did he leave? “Are you...are you there?”

Oh. Had Natasha said that out loud?

“Doing what?” You rasp, despising the way that you hate it when your jaw shakes. It’s okay, you remind yourself. It’s Natasha, it’s okay to be broken around her. Even when she’s angry.

Natasha has broken pieces, and she has missing pieces, and you do too, so it’s okay.

“Why are you training, why are you doing any of this when you aren’t,” Natasha searches your eyes, desperate, “you aren’t going out there on the field again.”

And now, now you are burning.

——

You croak out a raspy; “What?” That has Natasha wincing like she’s already been burned. “Natasha, I don’t know what you think is going to happen, but i’m- i’m going out there again.”

“You can’t even fight anyone that isn’t me,” Natasha says, freezing the moment the words are past her lips.

She tries to cup your cheek but your wincing and stepping away, away, away, too far for Natasha to reach and she hadn’t meant it like that, it wasn’t supposed to be an attack, she hadn’t—

“I’m trying now,” you say, and your voice is shaky but it’s there, and it’s strong, and you aren’t backing away any more you’re moving closer— like this time Natasha is the ocean and you’re being drawn in.

You’re wrapping your arms around Natasha and she’s confused but she’s relieved because you’re still there. You’re still with her.

“I’m trying and I know things have changed,” you whisper, “I know you’re scared, I am too, but we...were heroes because we keep trying, because even when missions go wrong and we don’t want to—we go out there and we fight so that other people don’t have to as hard.”

And Natasha knows this. She knows but…

“I know this has been hard for you,” you say, and you’re the ocean, you’re the fire, you’re all of the stupid metaphors the two of you have made up to signify strength. You’re strength, and you’re bravery because she knows how scared you are of being strong and for it to mean nothing in the end, and yet here you are.

“I know it’s been hard for you to see me like this, I know it’s been hard for you to deal with what’s happened to me,” you pull away to clamp a hand over Natasha’s mouth so she doesn’t dispute anything, and Natasha couldn’t if she wanted to because you’re crying, there are tears running down your cheeks, and she’s been speechless since the moment you hugged her.

“I know that you’ve been handing me the little pieces of yourself that you have left, and that you’ve been ignoring the pile at your own feet, and I could never thank you enough,” you smile at her then, brushing away tears that Natasha hadn’t even known she let fall “you wouldn’t want me to anyways, but now—right now I need you to let me be strong again. Even though it’s scary, because Natasha…”

You pause, closing your eyes and letting your hand fall from her mouth. “Hydra took me on a chance. It could have been you. It could have been any of the Avengers. That’s the position you put yourself in, that’s the position all of us put ourselves in, but we take that chance. I let you take that chance. Let me.”

And Natasha kisses you. She kisses you, and you gasp against her lips because you hadn’t expected it, but she keeps kissing you, and kissing you, because you're her shooting star and she wants to wish for infinity to slow down.

“I’m so scared,” Natasha says when she pulls away for air, and a sentence has never resonated with her so much, but you’re strong, you’re strong even though you’re scared, and Natasha won’t let it mean nothing, because it means everything that you’re being strong for her. “But okay. Okay.”

The breath of relief you release against Natasha’s neck, and the way you sag into her like your strength has been sapped out of you makes her tense and swallow down a sob. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

But you pull away from her grinning and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Does this mean you’ll stop going easy on me?”

Natasha gets whiplash.

“I uh...I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she denies, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks only to have you start wiping away at her own. Natasha laughs because what else is she supposed to do.

“Hypothetically though, if I were to have been going easy on you, I'll try to be more fair.”

Your smile widens just that bit more and Natasha is put at ease.

The two of you will be just fine, Natasha knows. No matter what the two of you face, what the two of you go through, you’ll be okay.

“I won’t go easy on you either then.”

“...What…?”

[gwynrielendgame]

Nyx and Isa part 4

I am feeling very uninspired these days yall. Good news though, I got a job 🥳🥳 woohoo.

"You two can go wander through the gardens now, if you'd like. Violet why don't you go with them? Someone needs to keep them out of trouble."

It was as much a dismissal if Nyx ever heard one. He rolled his eyes, but stood to leave anyways.

"I would actually like to listen in. If I am to be high lady some day, best I hear it all."

Nyx's parents shared a look. Whatever they wanted to discuss with Tamlin and the rest of the family was not information they wanted his daughter to know. Must be something about her.

"Very well. Nyx could you check on your sister, Velaris? I haven't heard from her all week."

Nyx was annoyed that he was being dismissed once again to check on his oldest sister, of all people, even though Isa was allowed to stay. She was much less trustworthy than him. He turned to leave with his younger sister in tow, but a snicker from Isa made him send a quick glare in her direction.

"Yes, run along now. Like the good little prince you are."

The sarcasm might as well have bit his skin. The entire room stopped their small talk to re-assess the situation before them. The last anyone had heard, Nyx and Isa had resolved any conflict from the recent fight they had. Although neither of them had spoken since Isa had revealed what she gave to protect Nyx.

"Stop this, Isa. Petty arguments do not become you."

"Oh look at prince Nyx. Once again taking the moral high ground. Shocker considering who your parents are."

"Did we...miss something?" Lucien interjected, clearly to lighten the mood which had zero effect on the arguing pair. They continued their banter as if Lucien never even spoke.

"You want to talk to me about my parents? What about yours? Your father abused my mother, only to impregnate, who I can only assume by your own standards, is a vile, evil witch."

She sucked in a harsh breathe. She told that to him in confidence and now he was throwing it back in her face. His anger fueled harder than his guilt. Nyx had walked back to the table at this point where he stood, glaring at his friend.

"Once again you stand on some moral high ground. The world is not black and white, Nyx. Your mother would like to convince you otherwise though, no? Must be her savior complex."

Her accent was much heavier with how vehemently she was talking. Feyre decided it was best to intervene.

"Okay, why don't you two separate and cool off. Obviously, emotions are running high."

Once again, the pair ignored anyone else speaking to them.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Isa. I am not the one that sold off my unborn first child, so of course, you do not have many moral qualms." Nyx threw back at her. She rolled her nose up in disgust.

"Would you have rather I let you die?"

"I am glad I am not dead, but what you were willing to give up for me is not something I would be willing to do for you." He crossed his arms. She scoffed.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you had sex with me!" She threw a roll from her plate at him. He let it bounce off his head with a roll of his eyes.

"Oof" Violet muttered while glancing anywhere but at the pair sparring off at the dinner table.

"Do not act as if I tricked you into that! I have been crystal clear about us. I am waiting for my mate, which you are not."

"Nyx," his mother tried to interject once again, but Isa stopped her.

"How do you know that? How do you know I am not your mate? The bond is hard to sense before it has snapped into place." Everyone recognized the desperation in her voice. She was pleading with him to love her in the way that she loved him. Unfortunately, it was also clear to everyone that Nyx was rather indifferent towards Isa as a romantic partner.

"Come on Isa! Be realistic. Our parents did not work out for a reason." He tried to reason. He thought they had just been having a bit of fun. Must have meant much more to Isa than she had been admitting to him.

"Perhaps you do share too much with your mother. Your self-righteousness is certainly straight from her handbook." She lashed out. Nyx recognized her feelings were hurt and that was the reason she was saying the nasty things she was. That did not mean it kept him from getting just as angry.

"Well, I am not the only one who takes after my parents. You are exactly like your father." He spit at her.

Nyx was tired of listening to her discuss his parents in such a way. She wanted to play rough? Well then he would play along.

"What is that meant to mean?"

"You are an entitled bitch who does not seem to understand when someone does not love you back. That's what I mean."

She flinched at his harsh words and he automatically wished he could take them back. She retook her seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. They both remembered what she accidentally admitted to him and the words he had not said back. He was breathing heavy from his own vehement yelling, but now as he looked around, he felt regret. It felt wrong to air out their grievances among family and friends, especially when he threw so much back in her face.

"Yikes..." Violet unhelpfully broke the awkward silence that had engulfed the room. Nyx noticed at the same time as everyone else that the table was shaking. It started to shake so much that he thought an earthquake was hitting Velaris. It was not until Tamlin spoke up that everyone realized who, instead of what, was making the table shake.

"Calm down, Isa."

She took a slow shakey breath. One lone tear fell down her cheek which she roughly wiped away. Nyx wanted to wrap her in a hug and apologize, but he stuck in his spot as her tattoos began to glow. They often glowed when she was using her witch magic, but never like this. This was bright, almost blinding when her normal glow was a light luminance.

"I am trying." She spoke softly. "I just want it to stop." Her hands went to her head and started clawing at her temples.

Nyx was not sure what she wanted to stop, but one glance around the room told him that this meant trouble. He wanted to help his friend, but no one moved a muscle and his father sent him a look that kept Nyx from speaking. Tamlin's reaction was even worse. He looked scared. Whether that was for his own life or because his daughter was in danger, Nyx would never know.

"Isabelle, stop."

"I can't." The word broke off at the end as she finally opened her eyes. They were glistening with tears and her expression would haunt Nyx until his last days. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Tamlin propelled forward, over the table. He wrapped Violet in an embrace as they fell to the floor.

And then a gust of power broke every piece of glass in the room. Every window, wine glass, and vase shattered. The power from Azriel's siphons reached out at the last minute and protected Nyx and Lucien from the blast of power. Nyx was still thrown into the wall from the sheer force of it. He managed to look over at his parents to see his dad protecting his mom. Tamlin must have known what was going to happen before it did because he reached Violet a second before it happened.

"Knock her out!" Tamlin yelled. "Before her eyes change."

Nyx looked up to see that Isa was still crying, but a swirl of power encircled her. She had sunk to her knees on the floor at this point and she still gripped her head as if it hurt. The power was unlike anything he had ever seen, so he assumed it must be her witch power. He knew he should get up and talk to her, but he did not want to make it worse. He watched as Lucien attempted to physically get to her, but the gust knocked him away. Both his parents tried using their daemati powers. Nyx was afraid of what would happen if that did not work. Tamlin shoved Violet behind a couch before approaching his daughter.

"Isa, you can control it. You have done it before. Focus."

She began shaking her head wildly.

"Get out of my head!" She screeched.

"I can't get in Tamlin. Whatever is happening is too powerful." Nyx wondered who was inside Isa's head if not his parents.

"Use your Night power to knock her out." Tamlin gritted his teeth as he slowly inched his way toward her. It was a physical feat unlike any other because the wind was powerful enough to keep Nyx on the ground.

"I can't. She's disarmed our fae magic."

Nyx tried to conjure his own magic, only to realize his dad was right. He did not think it was possible without the use of faebane. Isa had mentioned being able to temporarily disable fae magic, but she claimed the cost was too high for witches to use it often. He was worried she would end up killing herself before the night was over.

"Isa!" He started. As soon as he spoke, the power surrounding her intensified. "I am sorry. I did not mean it." He took a few tentative steps towards her even after his dad called out a warning. It was difficult due to the wind, but he managed to get close enough that his shouts were heard by her.

"I was lashing out because you hurt my feelings." The power started to ebb as she raised her head from her hands. "You are my friend and I did not mean to hurt you."

She looked at him for a second, her guard dropped, and when she blinked, her eyes opened again, completely black as the finest spun silk in all of the night court.

Fuck is all he could think.

Tamlin used the split second she was distracted by Nyx to make his move. She was in his grasp and being winnowed away before anything else could be said.

"Shit." His mother muttered from her spot on the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Azriel looked to Lucien for answers as he stood from the ground. It appeared everyone had been knocked to the ground from the force of her magic. Lucien wiped away blood from his forehead that kept pouring into his one good eye.

"How many witch, high lord children have you heard of?"

"None." Azriel grimaced. If he had not heard of it before, then it was likely few and far between that held that same heritage.

"Emotion is a highly sought after price by the spirits. Not many witches are willing to trade their emotions for the aid of the spirits. They feed on it which is why the children are so dangerous. They are one tantrum from killing their entire coven. Why do you think their numbers dwindle?"

"She's had how many years to get this under control?" Rhysand quipped back sarcastically only to get a withering look from Lucien.

"No amount of time prepares you for your first heart break. Especially when the cause of that embarrasses you in front of another court by declaring he does not love you back." Lucien gave a pointed look to Nyx with narrowed eyes.

"Not my finest moment." Nyx cringed as he thought back to all he said. Nyx walked back to Violet to help her up from behind the couch.

"The spirits feed on her emotions. She let her guard down, but they cannot take without giving. They gave her too much power to control with her emotions as tumultuous as they were. The more negative the emotion? The more all-consuming and dangerous that power becomes." Lucien explained. Although it hardly made any sense to Nyx.

"How can they feed if she does not call on them? Why do they not feed on our emotions?" Violet asked as she wiped dirt from her dress.

"The tattoos, a price she has paid for a past use of witch magic, acts as a tracking device. Much like you build mind barriers to keep other Daemati out, Isa needs to keep her barriers in place to prevent the spirits from taking freely. The tattoos call to spirits when they glow and the loss of her mind barrier allowed them in without her permission. As for the reason they do not feed on our emotions? Unsure. Isa jokes that regular fae emotions must taste bad." Lucien finally grabbed a napkin to press to the wound above his eye. He muttered an apology to Feyre for ruining it.

"Why did she not kick them out once she realized?" Feyre asked instead of responding to his apology.

"She probably did not realize she was giving her emotions freely to the spirits. They rewarded her with power. Mix in some fae magic, shape shifting abilities, and boom you have an uncontrollable dangerous cocktail in the form of a small female."

"The eyes?" Azriel quietly mentioned with raised brows. His shadows were moving erratically all around him.

"That is not up for discussion along with her mother." Lucien sent Nyx a glare.

"I know it was a low blow." He admitted. He would apology as soon as he was allowed.

"Isa loves her mother very much. You can love a person and despise their actions. Right Feyre?" It was an accusing statement. Everyone could see what Lucien was insinuating. His mother at some point or another loved Tamlin even if she pretended she never had. Feyre only rolled her eyes, but Rhysand sent a glare of his own back to Lucien.

"I should apologize. I do love her." Nyx felt the need to admit to everyone. "Just not in the way that she wants." He threw himself down on the couch. Violet followed his lead and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Not now. The reason witches do not readily offer their emotions is because it leaves them numb. It is a very unpleasant feeling and will be like talking to a wall." Lucien grimaced. Nyx assumed Lucien was thinking of the last time it happened.

"Has this happened before?" Azriel inquired.

"When her mother died. That's it." Lucien shrugged and dropped the napkin.

"I didn't know. I never meant to hurt her." Nyx felt the need to explain himself, but found there were no words to do so.

"If I know Isa, all she wanted to hear was that you care for her in some capacity."

"She knows that." Nyx insisted. He rested his head on top of his sisters. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion unlike any other.

"Does she? Cause you had me fooled otherwise tonight." Lucien quickly winnowed away after that. A look around the room showed disapproving looks from everyone.

*****

"Thank you for coming." Tamlin shifted awkwardly in his chair. The Night Court inner circle looked on from their respective chairs in what Nyx assumed must be the formal sitting room. His parents, himself, and his sister squished together on one couch. Azriel took an arm chair to the left of Tamlin and the last chair remained unclaimed. Nyx stared at the chair as if he could make her appear simply from his stare.

"How is she?" Rhysand cleared his throat to ask. Tamlin gave a tight smile.

"Fine." He paused, debating whether he should say the next thing. "We lifted the ward on this room. If things should get out of hand today, you may winnow away."

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought you said she had it under control."

Tamlin sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. He rubbed at his temples as if this entire meeting exhausted him.

"You will see that you are in no danger. It is just a precaution."

Azriel went to say something, but stopped and looked towards the door. It was utterly silent. A few minutes later, Isa walked through the door with her head down. She looked...bad. In the kindest way possible because Nyx knew she had been through a lot mentally. It had clearly taken a toll on her physically. She shuffled to the last available seat without making eye contact. When she finally looked up, Nyx's heart lurched. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks had sunken in from weight loss, leaving her looking like she consisted only of skin and bone. It was jarring considering how solidly built she had been previously. She had always been muscular; now though, he saw no hint of it. Her dress must have been fitted to her recently since it fit her well. It was a light green color similar to her eyes and flowed around her like a wedding dress. She might look beautiful if she did not look so sick. Nyx made eye contact with his sister's wide, shocked eyes. A quiet gasp left his mother's lips. Isa tried a small smile, but Nyx noticed her fingers nervously traced the new tattoos on her other hand.

"I apologize for my little display last week." She started. "I thought I had a better grip on my powers. Obviously not. I have spoken with my coven on the matter and I will be returning home for additional training."

Nyx contemplated whether he should speak or not. Last time they only exchanged spiteful words. He did not want those words to be the last she heard from him. He cleared his throat.

"Does your coven know about the first born debacle?" He felt it was a neutral enough of a statement. Isa replied simply.

"No."

"It is best if that is never discussed aloud." Tamlin interjected.

"How long will you be gone?" Violet asked. They had become friends as well and his sister looked sad at the prospect of her leaving.

"Until I need to claim my position as High Lady." Isa stared at her hands as she spoke. Violet gasped at the information.

"But that could be hundreds of years!"

Nyx frowned. He thought it might take Isa a few months to lose interest in himself and then they could return to just being friends. This seemed extreme, but perhaps they could still visit each other every once in a while. Isa only shrugged. Nyx felt dread at Isa's lack of emotional display. She had been rather devoid of anything else. The effects of the spirits must be taking more of a toll than anyone else assumed.

"That will leave you unprepared for your role as high lady. You do not have many allies or friends," Azriel started what appeared to be an oddly placed reprimand. "You should use all the time you have to form relationships with the other courts and possible emissaries."

"Lucien said he would help me when I first take over."

"That is not enough." Rhysand agreed as him and Tamlin shared a look.

"You will help me, no?" She asked.

"We may not have the time to devote to helping you run your court." Feyre said. Isa's eyes slid past Nyx's and landed on Violet's.

"I could help." His sister offered with a smile that looked so similar to their mother's.

"It would be very much appreciated." Isa tried to give a smile of her own but it only succeeded in showing how miserable this past week has been for her.

"You may want to consider marriage." Azriel felt the need to mention. "You will be at a disadvantage when you return, but a well aligned marriage could work. The prince of the Summer Court is unmarried, but you may find yourself at war with Amren over him. There is a princess of the Summer court that may be interested." His shadows tucked in tight to him.

"I shall consider that. Thank you for the advice, spymaster." No hint of her accent could be heard. Nyx realized she was focusing on disguising the accent in order to focus her attention. Her eyes kept wandering around the room as though she could not keep focus on the current conversation.

Tamlin appeared to nudge Isa subtly. He gave her a stern look before she turned back to look at Feyre.

"I apologize for the things I said about you." She said barely above a whisper. Feyre gave her a soft look which must have urged her to keep going. "Sometimes I feel angry at you because I see a life I could have had. With you as my mom. It is not fair, but it is true." Nyx could see tears in his mother's eyes that she quickly blinked away.

"I understand that sometimes we say things we do not mean. Right, Nyx?" Feyre gave her son a look. She was giving him an opening to say his piece while simultaneously avoiding responding to Isa. He should tell Isa that he did not mean it.

"Isa, I do love you. Just not in the way you are wanting." He tried to make eye contact with her so that she knew he was speaking the truth, but she did not look up from her hands.

"Okay." She gave a simple shrug.

Nyx felt his eyes brows furrowed at that. He was not sure what he expected her reaction to be, but something more than that. It made him feel something he was not ready to admit. And at this point, would never admit.

"Okay?" He asked with raised eyebrows. Isa was still refusing to look up at him, so he look towards his father who kept signaling with his eyes to go and comfort her.

"Yes, I understand I cannot make someone love me." The bland delivery of the words encouraged Nyx to move towards her. He kneeled before her in her chair and grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I do love you." He emphasized. He did not want this to get lost in the mess of everything else. Something about that seemed to spark something in her eyes though. The sight of it made Nyx relieved.

"Not in the vay I vant to be loved. Not in the vay I dezerve to be loved." Her accent was extremely heavy and she began to grip his hands back just as strongly as he was holding hers. Tears gathered in her eyes but they did not fall.

"I vill no longer give you more than you dezerve, Nyx." And with that declaration, the last of her fight left her. She softly pulled her hands away and stood up. Her eyes were blank once more.

"I apologize once again for putting your lives at risk. It will not happen again."

And then she was drooping back to her room with slows steps.

"That went...well." Violet offered unhelpfully. "Right?"

[imagine-loki]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 7

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 7 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants.  RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING

Kelly was so nervous, no, terrified that she was going to get caught by Stark or one of the other team members.

What she was doing was breaking every single rule there was. Even though she was part of the security team and could simply say she was improving the system, there would be lots of questions. Why at this time of night when she should be sound asleep in bed? Why did she have the box that contained Loki’s powers? Why had she turned off all the security cameras and overridden Jarvis?

She tried to remain calm and stop her hands from shaking as she picked up the golden box. She had still been worried that it would burn her hands or maybe explode upon being picked up by a human, since it was from Asgard. But she was relieved when it just felt like a heavy golden box. Not that she had ever picked up a heavy golden box before…

After replacing all the security firewalls and making sure it looked like it had been untouched, she rushed back to the security room to turn the cameras back on and sort out a loop for the tapes. It was easy enough for her to do. Overriding Jarvis had been the difficult part, but she had managed from her own room with her own computers and equipment.

As she rushed back into her room to finish off, she nearly screamed because Loki was stood in the middle of her room, waiting for her. He couldn’t help himself from being eager. But she could understand that, really. He had a part of him taken away from him without consent. That couldn’t have been nice at all.

‘Loki! You scared me.’ She blushed hard, as usual when she saw him.

‘Sorry, darling. That was not my intention… I just merely wanted to check that you’re alright, and if you managed to get it.’ He said softly and reached out to give her upper arm a soft squeeze.

‘All good. I just need to release Jarvis… Here, I believe this is yours.’ She handed him the duffel bag she had with her. While she sorted Jarvis, Loki opened the bag and felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through him when he saw she had succeeded in getting him the box.

‘I can’t thank you enough, Kelly my dear. You’ve done so well for me, I am so proud of you for doing this. Your skills are truly impeccable.’ He moved towards her once she was finished and he embraced her, making her heart soar as she hugged into him.

‘You’re welcome, Loki. I’m glad I could help.’ She said with a big smile as she looked up at him.

He let go of her and leaned back, grinning from ear to ear down at her. ‘You have no idea how much you have helped me. I am forever grateful, pet. I shall never forget this.’

‘Really, it’s my pleasure. I’m just glad I’ve been able to help, I hate the thought of anything bad happening to you.’ She said, slightly flustered.

Loki cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Nothing bad is ever going to happen to me, pet. Or you. I give you my word.’ He whispered.

Loki went back to his own room not long after. Kelly assumed he was going to get his powers into him. She wasn’t even sure how that would work, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know anyway.

When she went to bed, she took a while to get to sleep. Her mind was racing. Did she do the right thing? What if she was found out? But she eventually calmed herself down, knowing Loki wouldn’t let anything bad happen. It wasn’t like he was going to use his powers for bad now, anyway. He wasn’t under Thanos’ control anymore. He had changed.

And she hoped that once the others saw that, even if they found out he had his full potential, it wouldn’t matter by then. As he’d have proved himself worthy of their trust from missions, especially the big one coming up.

-

The following morning, it was late morning and Kelly was a little nervous as she hadn’t seen Loki yet. He was usually an early riser, but there was no sign yet. No one else had noticed, or even cared.

Part of her was worried in-case he’d ran off. She wasn’t entirely sure what all of his powers were, exactly. What he was capable of. But she knew teleportation was one of them. Again, she wasn’t sure how strong and how far he could actually go. But it was at the back of her mind.

She instantly felt guilty for thinking such a thing when Loki came strolling into the kitchen.

But then she noticed he seemed a bit… off. He was wearing his full Asgardian armour, which was unusual unless he was off on a mission or training.

‘Morning, Loki. Is everything ok?’ She called over to him. Clint was also in the kitchen leaning on the counter, and Pepper was making a brew. But they paid no attention to Loki. As usual.

‘Everything is absolutely wonderful, my pet.’ Loki growled. His voice was darker, much darker than normal. It sent shivers down Kelly’s spine, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was the good kind or not.

Clint and Pepper looked over at Loki then, noting the difference in his tone too.

‘What have you done, Loki?’ Clint asked warily.

‘Nothing…’ The wickedest, most evil grin spread across Loki’s face. ‘Yet.’

Kelly felt like time froze as Loki suddenly aimed the palm of his hand towards Jarvis’ camera in the corner of the kitchen and blasted it to pieces with his green energy.

‘LOKI?’ Kelly screeched at him, confused and scared.

Clint jumped up to his feet and Pepper was about to call Tony. But Loki used the same energy and blasted Pepper right through the wall. A few SHIELD agents that had been close by came running in, but Loki dealt with them easily.

‘What the hell, why does he have his powers?’ Clint shouted and made a move for his arrows that were on a chair a few feet away from him.

‘I’m sorry… He said he needed it for the big mission, that he was worried.’ Kelly blurted out quickly, eyes wide as she watched Clint scramble for his arrows and bow.

Clint grabbed his bow and began pulling out an arrow, he glanced at Kelly, frowning. ‘Mission? What miss’ before he could even take aim at Loki, he was taken out too by Loki. With terrifying ease.

Kelly let out a scream and she ran in a blind panic towards the door. But a strong arm slipped around her middle and stopped her, lifting her off the ground and into his body. She kicked and screamed, trying to get him to let go.

‘Now now, pet. No need to fear me, I will spare you, while I burn this place to the ground.’ He growled into her ear.

Before Kelly could apprehend what was happening, Loki put a spell over her and transported her elsewhere. Her vision went hazy and all she remembered seeing last was Tony in his suit flying into the kitchen, using his blasters on Loki.

-

When Kelly came round, she was confused as to where she was at first. But as she sat up and blinked a few times, she realised she was in a library. She recognised it.

Running towards the door, stumbling a bit on the way, she burst outside and looked up and down the street. People were running around and screaming in panic. She looked up the road and towering over the buildings of the city she could see the Avengers tower. There were huge explosions coming from it, a big fire and gaping holes. It was getting utterly destroyed.  

‘What have I done?’ She sobbed, putting her hand over her mouth.

But she knew this wasn’t the time to be scared or to cry. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and started running up the road towards the tower, while other people were running away from it.

She needed to try and reach Loki, try and talk sense into him before he killed anyone else. She could only hope and pray that she wouldn’t be too late.

But Loki wasn’t under Thanos’ control this time. There was no hope of acceptance from his father or brother, he didn’t want to be equal to anyone anymore. He had no leash, he was his own master. In control of his own destiny.

And he was going to make sure he got what he wanted.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 31

First

Previous

Next

Idk what happened. I was struggling to get this chapter to reach 1k words and then I blinked and it was 2k

... sorry?

Rena was the queen of pissing people off.

(She pinned most of it on her kwami, but it might just be because she had siblings. She’d been the baby for over ten years. It was the youngest’s job to piss off the older ones, it was basically in the job description.)

But even she knew that Chat had gone too far. She didn’t even have Chloe’s power of sensing emotions, but she knew from the moment Ladybug walked inside that shit was going to go down.

There are two types of anger.

Some people’s anger runs hot. Red faces and a voice raw from screaming and tears rolling down their cheeks. Rena’s anger ran hot, so did Chloe’s and Carapace’s. When Ladybug had stormed into the house, eyes full of fire, Rena had placed her in the hot anger category with them. She was fine with that. Preferred it, even. It was easy, predictable.

But it ended up not being predictable. She’d pointed the woman on her way and waited for the banging on the door, for the screaming to start.

… it never did.

Rena hesitated for only a few moments before heading up the stairs. For once, she was glad her kwami made it so people couldn’t easily sense her presence, because she did NOT want Ladybug’s anger to transfer over to her.

The woman’s hands were limp at her sides, her head resting against the door, her eyes squeezed shut. Rena watched, not daring to breathe…

And then Ladybug’s face forced itself into a neutral expression and she headed up to her room.

Rena watched her go and found herself almost scared of one of the people she’d used to idolize.

Ladybug had cold anger. Cold anger was everything that hot anger was not (obviously, cold and hot are opposites...). It was all thin lips and quiet words and dead eyes. And it was far, far worse for anyone involved. Because hot anger was traceable, there was a distinct escalation to follow until fists and words were thrown at each other. You knew when it was coming, you knew that when it did it would be over quickly.

But cold anger… it simmered under the surface. You may be able to detect when someone was experiencing it, but you’d never know when it would boil over or how.

Rena hoped that, whatever Ladybug did to retaliate (because she WOULD retaliate, pretty much everyone does at some point and she’d already had something against Chat), that it wouldn’t be too bad.

She made sure to be extra nice to the woman as she waited for something to happen. Ladybug probably knew why she was doing it, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t accept Rena’s offer to take patrols off of her hands when she’d noticed she was swamped with work or say no to the snacks she was giving her.

It was great. Rena’s chance of being murdered was like… 10%. Which she would take. It was better than Chat’s 90%.

~

Days passed, and the tenseness in the house did not leave.

Rena, obviously, was not a fan of the high tensions. No one likes to be in a tense place, and in Paris this was even worse. She was practically waiting for an akuma at all times.

On the other hand, it was a pretty good distraction. If she was constantly worried about what Ladybug was planning, then she wasn’t worrying about what Fu said --.

Damn it. Now she was worrying about what Fu said.

Because, as much as she hated it, the words they’d exchanged about her possibly getting corrupted felt far more real.

Back when she had only known about the other four miraculous holders, she hadn’t been worried. He’d gotten it right four times in a row; even Chloe, who was decidedly NOT a nice person, was very kind. All four of her predecessors were clearly chosen very carefully to fit the characteristics of their miraculi while also possessing heroic traits. Why would he drop the ball with the last hero?

But, no, now she had to live with the fact that he wasn’t totally infallible when it came to choosing heroes. Had Pieris been a fluke? Had the other miraculous heroes been the flukes?

Pieris had had the easiest miraculous to control. She had the hardest. Would she be able to stay sane while using it?

Part of her hummed that she’d already slipped some. That her time watching Chat had been an abuse of power and she knew it. So why had she done it?

Because it was necessary, the other part of her whispered. It was for the good of Paris.

… was she even completely sure that part of her WAS her?

She curled her fingers around the miraculous that hung around her neck like a noose.

And then Ladybug walked into the room and thank FUCK a distraction. Chat tensed up from his spot at the window.

… Ladybug brushed past him, her lips pressed together thinly as she made her way to the kitchen.

Rena couldn’t stop wondering about Chat. He had a tiny frown on his face as he watched the doorway she’d disappeared through. She wondered, vaguely, why he’d done it. It was a bad idea, anyone with two brain cells to rub together would know that, so why?

But she wasn’t really close enough to ask. So, she was left to just look on the internet for some theories.

(Her personal favorite was ‘it’s flirting!!!!!!’. The LadyNoir stans were always fun. Wrong, but fun.)

~

Four days in, Ladybug struck…

How did she know? Chat screamed at five o’clock.

She groaned and shuffled out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she slowly poked her head out the door to see what had happened.

Chat was standing in the doorway to his room after a long patrol… and it looked like he’d dropped into a pool of glitter… or, as her eyes took in the amount of glitter around his feet and the polka dotted tote bag resting on top of his head like a hat that was much too large for him to pull off, a pool’s worth of glitter had been dropped on him.

There was a beat before he slowly pulled the bag off of himself and tossed it into the room. And… wow, there was even more glitter than she’d thought.

It stuck to everything about him (the sweat probably didn’t help). She no longer felt like she should be rubbing her eyes because damn did he need it more. Not that it would help all that much, his hands were just as coated in glitter and it would probably only hurt him more.

There was a click of Chloe’s door opening and the woman stared at the scene before she mumbled a ‘it’s too early for this’ and closed the door again, presumably to go back to sleep.

Carapace walked out, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual and the cup of coffee in his hand was the size of a water bottle. It was midterms for him. He was… not taking it well.

“Sorry, Carapace, go ahead and go back to studying. Didn’t mean for him to come home so early,” called Ladybug. She was sitting in the ladder to the attic, legs swinging idly. She tipped her head to the side as she considered him. “Go back to studying. If you need help, I’m good with math and science.”

He looked between her and Chat, who was struggling to blink his eyes open without permanently going blind.

“Do you really want to get on my bad side, too?” Mused Ladybug. “You don’t need anything distracting you from school right now…”

Carapace winced at the threat. He continued to look between the two of them before sighing and slouching a bit. “Can I at least help him get to the sink? He’s going to blind himself.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

Rena hesitated. “May I take a video?”

Ladybug fixed her eyes on her and she fought the urge to shrink back into her room or look away.

And then she shrugged. “Sure. News is kinda your thing, right?”

Rena tensed a little, her brain screeching to a halt. Did Ladybug know about her Ladyblogger days? There was no way she did, right? Sure, Ladybug had known her a little bit back in the day because Rena had often hung out around akumas for her blog, but surely it wasn’t well enough to figure out her identity, right --?

… wait, no, she was still talking about the TikTok. Ladybug looked very confused about her sudden freeze up and Rena had to think of an explanation FAST.

She pulled a bright smile to her face. “Yeah. Not allowed to do as much as I’d like, but y’know… it is what it is.”

Ladybug still looked a little confused, but she shrugged to herself and started heading up to her room.

~

The video on Rena’s account was just a video of the aftermath in short cuts.

“Ladybug got Chat back for that video he posted about her!” She explained to the camera.

Chat was covered head-to-toe with glitter outside of a small area around his eyes. He was also struggling to figure out how brooms worked, it seemed. Rena had considered helping but honestly it was kind of funny to watch him attempt to sweep something with the wrong end and how did he not know how a BROOM worked it was a BROOM --?

“Regretting it?” Said Rena, sitting down beside him.

He wore an irritable expression, though that was hard to look at all intimidating when he looked like a child’s arts and crafts project. “A little, yeah.”

“It was dumb to mess with her.”

“A little, yeah.”

She laughed a little at that.

He brought up a hand to rub his eyes tiredly, because he wasn’t as used to not sleeping as Carapace and Ladybug were, and Rena had to grab his arm to stop him so he didn’t die by glitter-in-eyes-syndrome.

… but now she was kind of regretting it. Because her hand was all glittery.

He gave her a tiny smile.

“Thanks. And, uh, sorry about the hand.” He looked down at the broom and dustpan he was apparently still unsure about how to use. “Well, at least it’s over, right?”

Rena privately disagreed. But she didn’t say that aloud, instead she just smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek… which she also regretted.

The camera caught her vague choking noises and curses for a few seconds before it cut.

Carapace was struggling to write an essay because of all the glitter on his hands.

“Fuck I should’ve let it go I should’ve let it go fuck c’mon I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to my professor fuckkkkkkk --.”

“Do it online.”

He whipped around, brandishing his pencil like a weapon, and only slightly relaxed when he realized it was her. “When did you --? Nevermind, whatever.” He sighed. “My teacher is old so he only accepts stuff on paper. It’s stupid.”

Rena reached out and gave him a little head pat.

The video cut briefly to a video of Chloe sleeping and decidedly not helping anyone with anything.

Ladybug was only there for a few moments. Rena had gone up to see her in a red crop top and black leggings. She sent her a smile and a wave despite the fact that she was currently doing her best impersonation of a pretzel. “Hey! You filming a video, too?”

Rena stared at her, wondering how she’d managed to get that flexible, and then realized she was talking to her and quickly nodded. “Yeah yeah yeah, just reporting on the incident… how’re you feeling?”

She watched Ladybug do a back roll and by the time she was finished all of her limbs were miraculously untangled, which was insane and should be impossible but I digress. “Great, honestly! I mean, it was bad that the internet got to see me on an off day and all, but…” She shrugged. “I feel much better now.”

She smiled at the camera and waved it goodbye.

The video ended.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

[sebsunset]

Creation, Both Haunted and Holy - CHAPTER 2!

I’ve been working on this thing for weeks straight, to make it as amazing as possible!

As always, I am dragging @muffinlance‘s AUs into my work

this is the angsty one :) yUP, the year-old au!

and don’t worry, i have another one in progress... also using a muffinlance- inspired au- one of the more obscure ones, i think!

Mother Hama is. Suspiciously nice to write, and very angsty

TRIGGERS: Graphic-ish descriptions of wounds and child abuse! Please beware, my dudes! Things will get better soon, but this is really really bad right now!

LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578904

OR, READ HERE :) 

In the moon’s light, an urutau-vulture screeches out its song, pure and eerie grief ringing out in the wind.

And that’s how Zuko’s mind briefly comes back to reality.

Awareness fading in and out with each breath he wheezes through.

With wakefulness, comes the purest of agonies. A mouth open, voice too hoarse to scream out for help.

The hot pain, all over him, the memories tugging at his head, the memories of-

The burning. A cleanse that felt so dirty, like-

Oh, the sheer smell of it-

Of him.

The smell of cooked meat is his.

He wheezes out a cough, remembers the time Mom had no servants to help her, and had asked Azula to light up the fire for them to cook.

He tries thrashing about, to get a good view.

Mom ought to be around there, around somewhere.

(Even if it’s been so long since she was last around.)

She must be there, somewhere he can’t see, maybe in the blurry shade of the trees. She will bring a bucket and cool water, and she will hold him and-

“W-Where’s mom?” he tries asking, to nothing, to no one.

But only one of his ears hear it, the raspy, damaged sound that he can hardly recognize as his own voice.

He tries to ask again, words broken, tear tracks he can only feel in one cheek.

The burning pain he struggles to breathe over.

He doesn’t know what happened, but he can’t move. Can’t do anything, nothing but begging for it to go away.

“Where?” his voice comes out, finally.

The pain in his throat finally registers with the blabbered words, and suddenly he feels like he’s been screaming for all too long.

I’m sorry, Larva, says the feeling of hands on him. I’m so sorry it came to this.

Ghostly hands that don’t quite hurt when they touch his left side.

There is no shadow to hold him, though.

He can’t remember what happened, but the questions come to his mind nonetheless.

Why does it hurt so much? Why is his arm numb, why can’t-

Go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe, little Vessel.

The voice is soft, warm.

And, as the moon sings her song, his brief moment of awareness fades off.

Only one eye closing, as he breathes out again.

Painful, laboral.

His last thought is that he hates it.

The tone in the voice.

It’s all too-

.

.

.

-

It’s in the way the moon sings, as the boy’s skin peels off.

It’s in the way he doesn’t let any infection set in.

Scabbing away as the days pass, as Vaatu tries to heal him.

But there’s a reason the two of them were together. Glued, some might say.

Possessed, united fully.

He is part of Zuko, he is his mind and he is confined, locked away from seeking any further help. Not while the boy is that hurt, not while he can’t be awake and alive on his own.

Were it not a tragedy of occasion, his tendency to lock himself in the tiniest confides would be quite entertaining to watch.

Maybe, were it not happening to him, of all creatures.

Truly, he has been reduced to cowering on corners, to being not much more than a shadow.

Was it selfish, to wish for freedom when he had given it up to save his Vessel?

The two of them had done it.

An Avatar State of their own volition.

A sacrilege against the nature of a human body, a way to twist and bend their souls, braided together into a necklace of rope.

He doesn’t want to tell his boy what happened.

What the two of them had done.

He was too young to know what their purpose really was.

What would happen next, once he managed to get Zuko awake for more than a few minutes, enough time for them to scavenge, to do anything?

But keeping him awake, at that moment, would be nothing short of insane.

Yes, he must change. But this is too painful. Vaatu can feel the pulsing, the infection begging to seep in, to eat away at their flesh.

The way the dead limb hangs limply, charred black. The way the damaged leg attracts flies, like a plate of fruit slathered in honey, only kept away by him.

Blisters that look like they could open into eyes, watch the world for them all.

And so, Vaatu brushes off the sickness, scares away the vermin.

Lets his presence seep through, for nothing can keep him from affecting the world, not even being tied so deeply to his vessel.

The woods grow around them, thick foliage, colorful flowers in the vines.

No other spirit to bless or curse them.

Just the lonesome pocket of the world to which Vaatu and his Vessel have gone.

He is the eye of the shadow, the chaos that lurks deep in that tiny, undisturbed piece of the world.

He is a warning to the creatures.

He warns the world to stay away, lest it feel his disruption. His returning strength, his effect on the world around them finally taking place again.

Now that they are united, he can see that they could easily become unstoppable.

Rotting limbs thrown into any position, blackened flesh still smelling like it's been cooked.

The way it all brews in the two of them is nauseating.

The sickness is in the bursts of consciousness, when the one eye that can close opens up, blurry from tears.

When his head faces up and he sobs, lonesome and in pain.

Vaatu tries keeping the pain at bay, even if just by lulling him to bed.

Their vengeance is yet to be completed.

Disaster will strike again, he will make sure of it.

He tries telling, he tries consoling.

We will come back, he says. Rest for now, their fate is incoming.

But he is just a voice in his head, the feeling of a ghost-limb that can't really pull back hair, brush away feverish sweat.

Even if their Vessel is growing more powerful, Vaatu feels as weak as he can be.

But, as consciousness slips away again, he can’t help but notice the way the world is shifting around them.

The way the rabbit-mice has started chasing the otter-fox.

It is a victory, but it feels wrong.

-

Unsteady feet, weight put all into one as Zuko drags himself up.

The pain is hot and hard, it almost drives away the overwhelming hunger.

He didn’t think it could get that bad.

It could be worse, Vaatu says, but his voice still sounds angry.

Maybe not at him, but angry nonetheless.

(Angry like-)

When coherency slips away from his mind, when the pain is too much, as each of his slow, measured hops grows more and more exhaustive, he feels something in him beg for destruction.

But he won’t.

In the same way that Vaatu won’t bring him food, in the same way he will stay quiet, never saying a word of what happened to him.

Zuko wants to proclaim that he isn’t forgiven, but for the moment, his focus is on the steps.

Barely more than hops, as his one useful hand hangs onto trees.

Bare feet, grass scratching up against the angry, still-bleeding skin.

The question is pressing, rubbing against the back of his mind, as he cries out and whines, intense pain barely dimmed.

How is he alive?

All firebenders are taught about the sheer power of their fire, about the great deeds and prowesses they can achieve.

About how much damage they can inflict upon their enemies, when they chose not to end their suffering.

It should be infected.

I am trying not to let that happen, Vaatu whispers in his head, like it's a secret, like saying it out loud will destroy their chances of it getting any better.

 He isn’t moving in the shadow.

“The left side feels green.” he says, barely noticing he’s speaking at all.

Sunlight streams in through the gaps in the foliage. The moon is going to rise up soon, and the world is orange and it all feels green.

Find help, the voice instructs. You need someone to help you.

“First, food.” he argues, hearing the rumbling of his stomach. “I mean- Where there is food, there are people.”

You make a surprisingly decent point, he says, and there ought to be some farmhouses around here.

Zuko shudders.

People watched back there, people saw his shame burned into skin, his last rite of passage.

His whining sounds pitiful to his own head, but he can’t make his mouth shut up.

Involuntary sounds, flinches and shudders, as he drifts through.

Tall grass scraping against his wound, every touch sending new jolts of it.

The gentle breeze, the falling petals of flowers, blown away by the wind.

All so gentle. The kind pulsing of the world’s fiery heart, a piece of peace in the battlefield of its little nations.

And all so, so very painful.

Maybe this tells more than it shows, but pain is hard to show through words, hard to show through barely coherent thoughts, by the mind of a child who had never been through such great agony before.

A bad leg that can’t sustain his weight much longer.

Tiny complaints amidst panting.

He feels like he is the only source of noise. The world is eerily still.

Holding its breath.

Zuko shudders, tree bark scraping at tiny hands.

He looks down on himself.

A foot half-blackened. White and violent red, all blistered and-

Cooked. Broken.

Zuko doesn’t look at his left arm.

He is all too broken, all too destroyed by the time he’s been through.

You aren’t, says the voice.

Scabs that peel away too easily, like they were never meant to form.

Droplets of blood calling for any animal. He is prey, and the world is so, so very much now.

The disorganization of the world doesn’t manage to feel quite right, quite how it should be.

Like someone’s disrupted it before, like they’ve re-organized the world into something it shouldn’t be.

Something hangs in the air, hidden but never overshadowed by the smell of his tracks.

Yes, deliberate.

They’re onto something, he realizes.

A pike of wood, somewhere from which a scarecrow once stood.

“A garden.” he says. “I think we’ve found a garden.”

Purring at the back of his head, his blurry eye half-focusing around him.

A bush at the entrance.

Calling to him.

Food.

It has to be food.

Overtaken by hunger, he can only see them.

The rest of the garden is just carrots, little beets and a cabbage or two.

Nothing that looks that sweet.

And so, Zuko drops down, hisses in pain and twitches about, before grabbing a handful of berries in his one hand.

Vaatu takes a minute too long to realize they’re the kind used to make rat poison.

-

Her abode is a humble one.

A tiny inn she’s set up, rooms rarely occupied.

Of course, she has other places for travelers to sleep in.

It’s her lair, made of damp wood, of floorboards that creak comfortably under her old feet. Of roofs that leak, of the smell of a harmless old person.

She has a thousand little closets, a million nooks and crannies.

Hidden memorabilia, memories she’s carved back up for herself.

All wheatered by rain and by soot, but kept clean and tidy, far away from the fire.

She didn’t have many clients, but she had more than enough time to tend to the ones she had.

And so she did, for a time.

She kept herself satisfied, working towards her goals day in and out.

Followed through with a routine, day in and day out. Cooked plenty for herself, made sure she had the energy to follow through with her tasks.

That night, she can feel the full moon.

A welcome presence above her, making the world pulse with her divinity.

She has blessed the woman with her presence, and so, that night, she will go…

Watch the moon.

It’s a nice way to talk about the indulgence in her favourite of all things.

When she can make the world malleable around her, when she can dance and sing, pulling at the strings that bind the world together.

She smiles, feels it pull at her eyes.

That night will be formidable, she thinks

With finality, she treks along.

Yet, she doesn’t feel alone.

How can she, when the full moon rises, making the world finally feel alive again?

 The leaves crackling under her feet as she strides, the roots and branches snapping under her like she is a mighty beast.

Remainders of the sun’s warmth slowly seeping out, Tui taking her rightful place in the throne of the sky.

Her court of stars, rising slow and steady in its march.

And the world is silent around her. She knows it ought to be gawking at her, the last of her kind.

“Oh?” comes out of her mouth, before she can even stop herself.

An ear strained out.

“What is that…” she tsk-s in amusement, looks around with a half-absent mind.

Just what poor creature dares it, to choke in her garden, to foam over the leaves of her poison, to die in Hama’s territory?

-

Wakefulness comes slowly.

 His brow furrows in confusion, only half his vision able to focus.

But he doesn’t need to.

All Zuko sees is darkness.

He shivers, suddenly hit with the sheer cold of the room.

It's eerie.

He doesn’t know where he is.

He lashes out, trashes about.

His feet burn. Tied together with rope.

There are no windows, the space cramped. The sickeningly sweet smell of mold, the only sound meeting his ears, his own panting.

Like a piece of bread that’s been left hanging around for all too long.

Something is wrong.

It’s in the way his tongue feels garbled when he tries to talk, it’s in the way he can’t quite move.

It’s in the involuntary twitching of a dead limb, that he can’t stop, even when it hurts.

He can’t sit up, wouldn’t even if the dizziness would let him.

Vessel, are you okay? comes to his head.

Why didn’t you stop me, he tries asking. Where are we? Why are we here?

There are no little hands in the shadows, no feeling of a ghost hand touching him.

But the pain is dulled, pushed back.

Cloaked.

“Where am I?” he looks around. “Va-Voice, where are we?”

Someone brought us here, Larva. Get up,  I’m curious.

“Then move on your own.” he spits. “I’m tied up. Stupid.”

Regret makes him shake his head, but Vaatu is too old to hold up a grudge.

I can’t. We are united now, Larva. We are one in the same, and wherever you go, I go too.

“Chained?” he remembers. Like he is. Stuck, chained.

Chained. But fret not, my Larva, for stagnation will not come back to us. For now, though, you shall recover your energies.

A groan, as he lifts his hand, swipes a bug from his brow.

You sound like Uncle goes unsaid, but leaves the taste of bile on his mouth nonetheless.

Shudders, head shakes. The feeling of strands of patchy hair brushing against his shoulder.

He may not be alone, but there's no armor, no protection.

Zuko shivers, suddenly cold.

A part of him would give anything for that surge of power, for the feeling of the elements at his will, ready to be summoned up, to be harnessed and used as he deems fit.

For anything that can protect him, even with the collateral damage.

He can’t do anything, but he struggles to turn to his side nonetheless, to crawl out of the pile of rags that was his bed.

He can’t get up, so he drags his body along, pulls it slowly.

A trail of blood from his left side, scraped against the floorboards.

Dragged by his hand, whining and growling.

He can’t untie himself, no matter how much he tries.

Some kind of different knot - intricate, woven tight.

Vaatu guides him slowly, words that barely register to his mind.

Nausea, the feeling of ants crawling at the tips of his fingers as he drags himself to the door.

Get to the door - away from the fabric, it burns too easily - and then you can burn through the rope.

And suddenly, he wants to scream.

“I’m not burning myself. Shut up!” he plops onto his right side, drool pooling at the left corner of his mouth.

Beyond his control.

You know how to control the heat. It wouldn’t hurt. It's like pulling a bandage.

“Shut up.” he tries screaming, but his voice comes off hoarse.

… I apologize. I understand your fear, Vessel.

“I’m not forgiving you.”

I won’t let you stagnate for long, but feel free to stand your ground for a few more days.

“I’ll give you a week.” A bit of snark, that comes off soft.

A dry chuckle that breaks through the darkness.

He rolls his eyes, but can’t bring a smile up. He knows it would hurt. It would sting on his face, it would pull at the burns.

He reaches the door, struggles onto his knees, pulls at the handle.

Rattled, shaken, pulled and pushed with the feeblest of strengths.

Breaths growing quicker, as the weight of what he had done sets onto his shoulders.

Oh, what he did-

You should’ve eaten your vegetables, comes out as a light-hearted attempt, falling so very short.

“Shut up.” he wants to yell, because he’s locked in a strange home and oh Agni-

It’s dawning on him, slowly and steadily, just what he did.

Just what happened.

He hurt them.

(He did much worse.)

Falls to the floor. Looks at his one hand.

Now only one. Covered with little burns, old marks of his failures set onto his wrists. Little reminders of hands that were once there.

His breath, puffing out as smoke in the dark, cold room.

And suddenly, tears are falling down onto his hand.

(Father did that.)

No voice to comfort him. Nothing but the oppressiveness of his lonesome state.

Zuko wants to drown in tears, but his left eye refuses to cry, his bony body refuses to shake with sobs just yet.

So he just shrinks in there, holds himself close through the pain, pretends someone else is there to hold him.

"W-why?" He asks, feeling only half of his mouth move.

Words coming out garbled, blabbered through tears.

No answer comes, and he feels all alone.

He is a big boy, he wants to remind himself.

A big boy indeed, and that's why he cries and cries and cries, ignoring how the hollow place of the moon is soon filled by Agni’s eye.

-

The walks back home tend to be a less than exciting ordeal.

Oh, of course there's glee. Catharsis, even.

But lately, there’s some more than that. There’s the weight of the years on her shoulders, the soreness on her legs, the ache engraved deep into her bones.

That’s the vengeance of her people, of the men and women slain, torn down from the inside, overtaken by insanity.

She was meant to do it. It was why the art had come to her, it was why she had mastered it.

To bring down the rain of vengeance.

Nonetheless, that particular walk was made through with a quicker step, with a less vengeful head.

She had spent so long hurting, and the ones who hurt were the ones who learned how to heal the best.

She knew where to make it ache, and she had studied plenty of how to heal before.

(Kanna and her, studying scrolls that would be burned less than a day later, until late at the night.

Listening to the tribe's men sing and dance around the campfire, laughing and betting. Rolling their eyes, t hey healed eachother with little kisses by the moonlight, as Hama listened to Tui's song, to the calling of the full moon.

And with her friend's mittened hand in hers, she closed her eyes and felt the warm pulse of a world suddenly coming to life.

In the night's light, the cold wind whipping against their warm bodies, they danced together.

A dance that would soon turn into brisk movements, into desperate jabs.

But, at the moment and to that very day, the times before were painted with a rose-tinted glass.)

What mattered was that she had a patient, someone hurt as badly as she once was.

A son of ash and soot, a child with an eye burned open, blinded but still moving.

A child whose mere existence, whose life was astounding to her. How could that little thing keep going, how could he crawl to her and lay by her grassbed?

A little creature that proved her either insane or lucky enough to have a spirit in her hands.

He was going to be useful, she had decided when she found him foaming at the mouth, turning and twisting, rubbing dirt all over the open wound.

She’d cleaned him up, she had left him a nice little room, for an ashmaker that had yet to pay her back.

He would be grateful, that was certain.

And she’d seen first hand, how gratitude could destroy a man. Break down his flesh, make him bow and worship like a dog.

(She'd stood, suspended in her cell, watching an affair below.

The guard with bright yellow eyes, a glint like that of golden daggers, pointed towards her favorite prisoner.

A young woman, barely more than a girl.

She was from a neighboring tribe. Beautiful button nose and plump lips, bowing down low, foreign words slipping off her tongue.

She was meant to sing to the moon and the sea, but she sung their tribe’s songs upon anyone’s request. Danced as well as she could, tied up in chains.

A slap to the back of her head, something in the dirty ashmaker's speech.

A correction, two apologies delivered in a low bow.

Forgiveness in the form of a plump bowl of jook and not much else.)

Her garden blooms around her.

What little use she could make of the soil there. Little plants, poisonous berries. Nothing too beautiful or lavish. She was just a humble old woman, afterall.

She’d been nice, asked around the village. Seeds, some tools. She was sweet and defenseless, and nobody ever dared suspect her to her face.

The village had never been a tribe.

And the house she lived in had always been just that. A house. Some might stretch it and call it a lair.

Not quite a home, as much as she tries to keep it cold, to make it feel like one when she closed her eyes, and look like one when she dared open them up.

That place is still a land of fire. Lava below her, the sun all too hot, not a single break in his wicked reign.

She misses the polar winters. They’d always been so good for weeding out the weak and the fiery alike.

Perhaps her glasses are tinted blue, contrasting all too sharply against the blood-red of that place.

But the point still stands in her mind. That place is no real home.

It doesn't have the foundations to be one.

It doesn't have the people to make it one.

There’s no Kana or Panuk or any of the children running about. There is no tribe to embrace her, no new stories to tell around the campfire. No dealings with the neighbors, and no polar-bear sled dogs to lead to the market every month.

There’s only the oppressive loneliness of a single person lost in the sea of snakes.

But for now, she can rejoice in the luxury of a new toy. One that can be mended, sewn and filled up with the truth. A child of ash, all hers.

(Malleable as the water she’d once sculpted into ice.)

Slow footsteps, steady smile. A bit of excitement, despite the bits of a lazy cat in her demeanor.

The doors of the inn, all open and empty.

Until the locked closet.

It’s their smallest room. It’s perfect for someone that small, that frail.

A plant left in a pot too big will soon spread, grow out of control.

If he grows up well enough, if his leaves twist and bend and his roots stretch out as he tries to reach the sun, she will put him on a leash.

Hama had been wanting something to keep her entertained.

-

He sobs and heaves and nearly vomits once or twice.

Snot and bile, no comfort, no caress.

Not a word amidst the fit. Nothing that he can hear, nothing that can make itself noted in his mind.

His body hurts, but there is no infection to take him away, to lend him a hand.

He can’t think straight. Repulse fills his throat whenever he thinks of himself, whenever he opens his eye for enough time to truly see himself.

And he can’t do this, he thinks.

Like any child does, he slips into a spiral, falls down and down.

Thoughts swirling in his head, screams that his throat can't force out.

Until something breaks through, snaps him out of it.

The sound of a door creaking open.

A tiny stream of the morning’s light drifts into the room, so gentle yet so bright, revealing dust that doesn’t quite form bunnies and mold growing on the walls of a cramped closet.

The decrepit coldness is suddenly accentuated, with the gentle warmth that hits his back.

He shudders, suddenly, as the light is taken away.

When he turns, a figure stands, back-lit in the doorway.

Old and hunched, his blurry eyes barely able to focus on anything but her kind smile.

He turns to her, ready to question why she left his legs tied up, why she locked him there, how long he'd been alone, what she wants to do now-

“Are- Are you-” he tries stuttering out a question, but suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t know just what he wants to ask.

She comes closer, looks down upon him.

“Bow down and ask, young one.” she says, gently. “Be respectful of this old woman, won’t you?”

Vaatu growls at the back of his head, and, for a second, he forgets that his friend is simply locked inside his mind, with no real effect on the world once they’re not alone.

So, he breathes in deep, pretends there’s nothing wrong inside him.

And drops down in a rigit bow, so the kind woman won’t burn him.

“I am Hama. Who are you?” a cane pokes his burnt side, the arm that’s no longer there.

Deep breath. He knows who he is, and so will she.

“I’m Zuko. Son of-”

“Nobody.” she says. The harsh word startles him, slipped in such a gentle voice. “Not anymore. Not after what happened to you.”

He tries again.

“Zuko, son of P-”

A poke from the cane, right in a blister. He flinches and hisses, unable to stop himself.

“You are a son of nobody.” she says, her voice sweet as the smell of moldy grain. “After all that must’ve happened to you, it’s better as that. Poor thing.”

That silence lasts for a few seconds, before her voice returns, kinder, to his sight of nothing but fetid floorboards.

 “Now, young one, tell me, what have they done to you?”

He won’t say. He won’t speak out again.

Not when Vaatu hisses, pure in his anger, taking over his head.

“Don’t you think you owe me that, after all I’ve helped you with?” a cane pokes his head, gently thumping against his skull. No real intention for pain, not on his bad side.

He gulps down something.

A single tear hits his lip, salty against the bitterness in his mouth.

Why does he cry? Why do the tears betray his mind, why does his gut feel so raw?

“I- I was burned.” he says.

“That I can see.” she says, gently. “Now come on, darling. I must know your affliction to heal you.”

“I was burned and banished.” he says. Words spilling out dirty and fetid and spat out like falling teeth.

But he tells no more. Hopefully, she won't see any tales of spirits, any curses or blessings to destroy.

(What if she wants to cleanse him, too?)

“Oh, dear.” she says, voice perfect in compassion.

Be careful, Vessel, Vaatu says in his head. His voice no longer a hiss, just a thought at the back of his mind. Do not trust her. Do not.

“That is very unfortunate.” she says. “Then, you aren’t Zuko, are you? As a banished boy, you have no name.”

“I- I still have my honor.” is the only defense he can give her.

And she laughs.

It would be warm, infectious as any other disease, were it not happening at that moment, when he felt raw and when his vulnerability was so easy to turn into anger.

“I am Hama, and you are Nobody.”

This is the point where the scene should end. Here, it should all fade away to silence, to maybe a sob or two, a twitch or whine at his own discomfort, until he is instructed to get up.

But please, remember just who we are talking about.

Nothing ends when or how it should, down here.

“B-But-” he tries stammering out, his heart thundering in his chest. His voice can’t come out as a scream, but it tries.

Maybe, a part of him thinks, his voice will be heard then.

She pokes him again, straight at the ribs.

“Nobody.” she says. “Nobody, with that attitude.”

If only she knew, he wanted to say.

Be nobody, Vaatu whispers, locked inside his head.

Zuko wants to fight. He wants to bite and gnash and destroy, to bend and twist and fall upon that state again, that state that made him-

“Not nobody,” he says. “I- I’ll prove to you. I’m not nobody. I swear on my honor.”

He can feel her smile.

“Son of nobody, then.” she says. “But make good on that promise, please.”

Hissing in his head, he looks up.

Tap, straight at a hollowed-out cheek.

“Stay down.” she says. “The light might hurt your eyes, so keep down low, son. I’ll get you something to eat.”

-

[fritae]

The Missing Piece:

Chapter 2 - Frustration

Gang leader! AU / Corporate! AU

Characters: Dabi x F/OC

Status: Ongoing

a/n: hey guys! so I'm playing with this idea and I'm not sure if I'm conveying it properly, but I hope you enjoy regardless! this story's really fun to write and I'm excited for what's to come! I'd really appreciate any feedback 🖤 thanks!

---

"Call Mr. Tobiro, tell him we're airing a new program next month" Mr. Lane tells me as we hurry through the halls.

I get confused. Didn't we resolve all this new program talk last week? I know the ratings still bother Mr. Lane, but enough to go against the board?"

"Sir, is this-"

"No. I'm not replacing any of the current shows. It'll be during the special programming slot on Saturday," He scowls. "A 2 hour special documentary about the Todoroki corp's amazing work these past few years. You know how popular the company is."

Something about this makes me uneasy. Why would he decide this out of nowhere?

His commands jolt me back to reality. "Make sure he adjusts the schedule and starts airing commercials. I want huge ratings, Ms. Aiko. We don't spend all this money to have another company show us up."

An intern quickly hands me Mr. Lane's morning coffee. I mouth a thank you and follow him to his office.

I place the coffee on his desk as he shouts on. I spot another employee carrying files for Mr. Lane. Her hands shake, as if she's trying to decide whether or not to drop them off now. We lock eyes through the glass and I decide for her.

Not now, I shake my head from behind Mr. Lane. Her eyes widen and she nods before quickly hurrying off.

"Are you listening to me, Ms. Aoki?

"Yes sir. I'll call Mr. Tobiro right away."

I keep a straight face as he shouts for the delay. As soon as I find an opening, I go out to call our corporate lawyer.

---

During lunch break, I head down to the cafeteria. I smile when I spot Aliyah and the crew. We tried to sync our lunch breaks to ensure we had some time together during the day (though we at times have to work through our breaks). It makes work feel less lonely.

"Rina!" She exclaims when I grab the seat beside her.

"We finally have some time together," I laugh before hugging her.

"Those bastards work you like a dog," She grumbles.

"You too," I pick at my salad. "Your hours are worse than mine."

"Yeah but I don't have the boss barking orders at me every second of the day. Rina's the real champ here, guys." She tells the table. The others clap at that, and we all share a laugh through mouths full of food.

As a couple executives make their way past our table, we stand up and smile at them in respect. But watching our smiles fall as soon as they walked away made me feel bitter.

"I hate how they treat us like trash and we still have to smile and kiss up to them." I whisper.

Al nods immediately. "But it's whatever. The more you kiss up, the better they'll pay you."

I don't respond to that.

Instead, I think back to the stranger I met last night.

Then what you want isn't money. You want more. He told me.

But the amount they pay us should be enough that we take whatever they throw at us.

Right? I mean, this is why everyone dreams of working here.

"Oh, by the way did you guys hear?" Aliyah suddenly whispers. "You know that multibillion dollar company uptown? Todoroki Inc.?"

"The one with all those charity projects?"

Todoroki Inc. was a big name in the industry. Their extreme success is known worldwide - but they're really known for their philanthropic branch: including building orphanages for the poor, handing out 6 figure donations, and the famous Boku no Hero Academia - where they train leaders in every industry to become tomorrow's changemakers, or as they call it "heroes."

Aliyah voice gets lower, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Except turns out Mr. Todoroki has been caught up in major lawsuits these past few months."

I frown. "For what?"

"Apparently there's been several child abuse cases at the orphanages he sponsors."

All around the table, our mouths drops. Usually lunchtime gossip involves the newest couples or breakups of the day. But this...

This has severe implications.

I'm not surprised that Al knows this. She interacts most directly with our guests and stars meaning she's in on a lot of industry gossip. But still...a major lawsuit like this?

"Is this real or is it one of your rumors?" Someone asks her suspiciously.

"It's as real as you or me! I saw videos . Trust me. There's plenty of people with beef against the company. Big boss Todoroki spent heavy money to keep it all hush-hush. But word travels quickly." She leans back in her seat with a smug look on her face. "We'll see how much power Enji really has by how quietly this unfolds."

"That's disgusting." I push my salad away, my appetite gone. "He can't get away with something like that. Where's the accountability?"

"There is no accountability, sweetheart. That's the way it works. You got money and power, you can get yourself out of anything. Besides, Enji has a reputation. He's got supporters everywhere, people see him as a hero because of all these charity projects."

"But they don't know what's happening in those projects!"

Suddenly, I remember something.

The special program!

I have to tell Mr. Lane. If this is really what's happening, we can't air something like this. It'll give people a false image of what the company stands for. Charity projects that have no proper supervision and that serve as places of abuse should never be celebrated.

"I- I have to go. I'll see you later Al, good luck with your schedule today!"

"But-"

"Sorry, I just remembered something I have to do."

I can't let her know about the program just yet. If I'm lucky, it hasn't been formalized into our official programming. I need to get to Mr. Lane before it does...

---

"Mr. Lane!" I barge into his office.

My boss looks up from his desk, slightly concerned at the look on my face. I slow down to catch my breath.

"Sir, about the Todoroki programming you want to set up. We need to cancel it sir, there's- there's a huge lawsuit going on. The orphanages - the kids are being mistreated sir, please-"

Mr. Lane leans back in his seat.

"Ms. Aoki, relax. That's not your concern. The deal is done."

"Sir...this will give a false image of Mr. Todoroki and his company."

"It's not a false image, it's an alternate image. That's what this whole industry is about. Mr. Todoroki is not responsible for what his managers do. And unless you're speaking with legal authority, I suggest you end this conversation now, Ms. Aoki."

"But sir! A program like this will give people cause to celebrate Todoroki Inc., rather than properly probe into these issues. What about the kids? The victims? Sir, please- this is about more than just-"

"This conversation is over, Ms. Aoki."

I try to think of another argument quickly. What else, what else. What could this nimrod possibly care about.

"But sir!" I say quickly. "If this blows up and becomes public knowledge, what will the people say about our company? It'll be bad for our name, we'll lose the respect we have in the industry, don't you think?"

Mr. Lane lets out a deep sigh. "Ms. Aoki, I know you're smarter than this. If the lawsuits go public..." I get worried by the excitement thrumming behind his eyes. "More people will tune in to watch the program. Everyone will be eager to see the other side. If we play our cards right the ratings will be-"

I scoff.

Mr. Lane stops speaking. The sudden ice in his eyes makes my bones go cold, but for once, I can't back down.

"The ratings?" I almost laugh. "Sir, I'm telling you there's kids being abused due to this man's lack of accountability, and you want to use that for profit? What about the truth? What about justice!"

"To hell with truth and to hell with justice!" He slams his fist. Mr. Lane gets up to tower over me. "I make the decisions here, Ms. Aoki. Your job isn't to advise me or to babble on about bullshit like the truth. This is a broadcasting company, and your job is to maximize profits - that's it! Got it?"

I feel my face grow hot.

"You've been running on thin ice for a while now, Ms. Aoki," His voice gets dangerously low.

I bite my tongue.

"I can assure you that no other company would give you the benefits package we've given you. It seems we've spoiled you, haven't we? That's why you're comfortable running your mouth like this."

"Sir, I-"

"I'll see to it that your salary is adjusted appropriately until you learn your lesson. And I warn you," He says through clenched teeth. "I see any of this behavior again, you'll be asking for much more than a salary reduction, Ms. Aoki. Got it?"

-----

Emotions I didn't know I could feel bubble within me. Hatred and rage boil deep in my core. But what can I do? What can I do.

I look from left to right. Trying to find something, anything to throw. Anything to take my anger out on. But when I find nothing, I hurry to the edge of Du Monde's roof. My chest heaves with the weight of my anger.

And as I overlook all of Midtown, and the entire city seems to be under me, I scream.

I scream and then I scream again.

I let out every trapped word that's been aching to escape.

All the swear words stuck to the back of my throat for years.

I release it all into the sky, knowing the wind will carry it for miles.

"Fuck you Mr. Lane!" I screech. "You no good fucking bald-headed, stout faced little piece of-"

"Woah!" I hear someone say.

Suddenly, a pair of arms pulls me back by the waist, as if to restrain me.

Of course, this does nothing but infuriate me more.

"Who the fuck- let me go! Let me go before I fucking rip every single finger off your hands and shove them-"

"Easy!" The voice says again, before releasing me on the ground. "Don't stand so close to the edge, idiot. You could fall."

"If I fucking fall, I want everyone to know it's Mr. Lane's fault! Fucking sue NNTV and put the Court verdict over my fucking grave so I know-"

"Hey! Look at me." The headless voice says. "No one's fucking fall-" He lets out an exasperated sigh. "Listen. I need you to calm down."

I scoff. Calm down? Is he telling me to calm down? With clenched teeth, I turn around. Ready to throw all my fury at this intruder. "Who the hell do you think you are? Don't you dare tell me to calm-"

My mouth drops when I lock eyes with the slightly concerned stranger.

With those electrifying blue orbs.

No.

This isn't a stranger.

Not a total stranger at least.

The man I bought coffee for last week at Du Monde stares back at me.

"...down."

A smile plays on his lips. "Hey. So you remember me."

"What..." I let out an annoyed breath, though it's not as angry as it was a moment ago. "...are you doing here?"

A toothpick sticks out of the corner of his mouth. He pulls it out as he ponders over my question. "Well, I was doing business. And then you decided to let all of New York know you were crazy."

I scoff. "You haven't seen crazy." I mumble.

"You got quite the mouth on ya," He smirks. "A little loud..." He tilts his head, as if considering again. "But you're honest."

I cross my arms and look toward the skyline, ignoring the people cautiously watching us from the other side of the glass. They can whisper to themselves about how crazy I am. This is New York. No one will remember this by tomorrow.

"Thanks. Now if you don't mind, I have other crazy things to do. And don't you have a business to run? People to be an ass to?"

The man tilts his head, as though slightly disappointed. But his lips remain curled. "Now come on. I've been hoping to run into you and you want to leave so soon?"

I frown. "Why would you want to run into me? You aren't a creep, are you?" I ask suspiciously.

"Creep?" He shoots me a pointed look. "There you go making a guy regret being nice," He tsks. "I was hoping to pay you back for the coffee."

He still remembers that?

"You know what," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Normally I'd say no need. But considering I'm probably gonna be jobless soon, I might just take you up on that."

"Well then," He stands up and offers me a hand. "I don't know how much crazy you still got left in ya so let's go somewhere a little closer to the ground."

[secret-engima]

Cloud Strife reborn as Prompto argentum???

*ancient plunny revives with a scream* *I slam the lid back down on it with a surprised screech*

WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME. BUCKLE UP WE’RE GETTING A FREAKING FICLET.

-Cloud Strife dies, old and ... contented for the most part. He’s lived a good life. Not an easy one, or even a kind one, but ... good. He dies and he slides into the Lifestream, and Zack and Aerith welcome him with open arms.

-And for a very, very long time, he drifts. He is ... partially aware of the world beyond the Lifestream, but he mostly doesn’t care. He did his part, saved it more than a few times, he’s earned his rest.

-Zack and Aerith like to keep an eye on the world though, partly out of curiosity and partly out of care, and they keep him apprised of certain things. Of Minerva raising new Guardians of the world via the Summons, assigning some to guard the Star from threats from beyond, some as Messengers who function much like old Summons. They tell him about the rise and fall of a civilization called Solheim and Cloud mourns a little at the rush of new residents in the Lifestream that follows Ifrit’s wrath.

-Then Aerith comes to him and tells him-

-That Ifrit went too far. His anger runs too deep. It’s ... done something. Jenova is dead and gone, but some of her taint lingered in the scars of the world and Ifrit’s anger FUSED with those old wisps to birth something new. Something terrible. Something called the Starscourge.

-And Cloud gets a nasty feeling that his time of rest is coming to an end.

-Still, he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t want to. But now he takes to watching occasionally with Zack and Aerith as the Astrals struggle to stop what one of their own created, as Bahamut crafts a mighty Crystal, a direct conduit to the power of the Lifestream and all the old magics that used to be found freely in Materia but that Gaia had long ago pulled back for fear of humanity’s abuse. Bahamut tracks down two families, one descended of Tifa’s children, blue eyed and black haired and Stubborn, another descended of Genesis of all people, skilled in magic and poets at heart. Bahamut blesses them with magic and tells them they will save the world.

-Cloud watches in spurts and flickers, dropping into awareness every century or so. The two family lines have no yet cured the Scourge, the taint still spreads, inch by inch and victim by victim.

-Aerith cries her heart out when Ardyn is born, and rises, and falls. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR for another to suffer like this. Ardyn was as close to an Ancient as could ever be and he tried so HARD, but he was too immature in his magic, he didn’t have the same knowledge that Aerith or even Zack and Cloud had about magic and so he was infected. But his magic was too strong to let him die from it.

-Cloud goes and yells at Minerva with Zack a little bit, and she looks at them wearily and explains she CAN’T do anything. Gaia has given the world of the living to the Astrals. Minerva can no longer directly interfere and Bahamut refuses to listen.

-And time continues to unspool. Bahamut has bound Gaia (now called Eos) to a Prophecy and all they can do is watch it play out.

-Unless...

-Titan comes to them in secret, without Bahamut’s knowledge or permission. Titan is of Earth and the Earth is of the Lifestream, he is the closest still to being the Titan of old, the closest to memories of when Eos was Gaia and Gaia had Champions. Titan is a patience creature, but not unkind. He, unlike the others, has remained awake and part of the world after catching the great Meteor, has seen humans struggle and live and love and die. He remembers the old Champions... and so he asks.

-One more time?

-Cloud is tired just thinking about it. He is not a hero, not in his own eyes, he is just a screwup, an experiment gone wrong and broken free of its strings. But he loves his friends, and the people who are descended of Tifa and Genesis and all his old companions. He loves the world still and most of all ... he loves Aerith and Zack. His brother and sister of heart. So when Aerith and Zack step forward to accept Titan’s plan, what can Cloud do but quietly step forward as well and offer to fight one more time?

-Titan thanks them, and he and Minerva make a plan. Already time is drawing short. They cannot simply DO THIS and hope for the best, they must place them where they have the most chance of changing things. Titan and Minerva settle on an idea and Minerva apologizes to Cloud, specifically.

-Cloud is pulled under before he can ask why. And for a long time that is the last he knows.

-Awareness comes back in flickers and spurts and the feel of bubbling green liquid on his skin. Sight comes diluted by the water of a tank.

-Cloud emerges from his tank screaming and thrashing, and the men in white coats take note of his unusual energy and reactions to the first of the Scourge treatments.

-Cloud feels the Scourge slide into his veins like an old, hated friend and screams louder, but magic is soul and soul is magic and Cloud’s soul has already battled something far worse than this diluted, spiteful plague. It consumes the Scourge in his veins, twists it into familiar channels and patterns that will someday make Cloud unnaturally strong and fast and keen of senses despite his scrawny frame and normal appearance.

-For now though, Cloud shivers in his sparks of fragile awareness and hates that he ever agreed to this.

-Of course he was reborn in a FREAKING LABORATORY.

-Cloud isn’t sure how long he stays in the lab, fading from awareness only to launch back to the forefront of the infantile mind this body has in fits and spurts. Just that it’s too long. Long enough for the men to mark him like a candy bar, long enough for them to pump gallon after gallon of Scourge in his veins and take confused notes when his body absorbs it and twists it into something different out of self-defense.

-He wakes up at one point to hear someone shuffling around the lab they moved him into. Someone with a different tread from the guards and the scientists. Cloud whines despite himself, flails with frustrating tiny limbs as a strange face appears above his sealed not-crib. Ice blue eyes look into Cloud’s, and Cloud knows in an instant this man is not of the lab. This man is dressed wrong, moves wrong, FEELS like he doesn’t belong, like there is a star pulsing softly under his skin.

-Cloud reaches for the man with another whine he can’t help and starts crying silently because Stupid Baby Instincts.

-He’s honestly surprised when the man blinks twice, sighs at the ceiling and mutters over his own idiocy, and then breaks open Cloud’s not-crib container. Alarms screech in his overly sensitive ears as the man clumsily hefts Cloud’s tiny infant self into his arms and RUNS. Cloud has never been so grateful for another person’s recklessness in his entire life.

-The man runs and hides and carts him what feels like halfway across the world, bumbling through childcare in a way that Cloud is pretty sure a normal baby wouldn’t have survived. Cloud is probably JUST shy of a year old when the man stumbles into a city that is coated with magic and makes his way to a huge building that practically THROBS with magic in a way that makes Cloud’s baby skin crawl and the not-Scourge in his blood shiver.

-The man is apparently named Cor, at least according to the other two men who yell that name as he stumbles into a private study with Cloud wrapped in his tattered jacket. Cloud can’t stop his tiny baby body from bursting into tears at the yelling (sound was too-loud-TOOLOUDMAKEITSTOP) and the dead, stunned silence is almost gratifying.

-“I couldn’t leave him,” Cor rasps to the other two men as they tentatively inspect Cloud, “I just- the things they were DOING to him, Regis. The things in the reports- I couldn’t leave him.”

-“Well you can’t keep him,” protests one of the men as the other holds out a finger for Cloud to hold and coos, “Niflheim will become suspicious. Especially since the boy looks nothing like you.”

-“I’m not killing him,” Cor SNARLS, holding Cloud too tightly to be comfortable. Both men raise their hands placatingly and promise that was NOT what they were implying.

-They end up giving Cloud away after having their doctors poke and prod and confirm he’s not infected with anything (how they miss the not-Scourge in his veins Cloud will never know). Cloud can’t stop himself from clinging to Cor when the man gives him away, because Cor might not have a clue how to raise a kid, but Cor was kind and SAFE and Cloud didn’t want to him to leave.

-But leave the man does. And the couple takes him home. They name him Prompto Argentum.

-And for a long time after that, Cloud is all alone.

-Oh they take care of his physical needs, and they are affectionate for a while, but they are busy people, and Cloud is too mature and strange, and so they slowly drift away.

-Cloud tells himself it’s fine. He can use the alone time to study at his true mental level rather than baby books and he can train his body to keep up with the burning, roiling power in his veins from the Not-Scourge that has given him skills and abilities dangerously similar to what he had post-Hojo. He tells himself that it’s fine as he looks for Zack and Aerith in the faces of every child and adult he meets and finds nothing. He tells himself it’s fine.

-The part of him that remembers raising Denzel, the part that held Tifa close when her beau left her after she refused to get rid of the child growing insider her and then helped her raise that child as if he was the father even when he wasn’t, knows it’s not.

-Cloud watches the news for word of Cor and wonders if the man knows (or would care) that the baby he saved is growing up raising HIMSELF rather than being loved and doted on as the couple promised.

-He avoids the children at school. One because he is mentally much older, and two because he can feel his SOLDIER strength coming back to him every passing year, fed to him through the gate opened by the Not-Scourge in his blood and the dreams Minerva sends him, promising that he will not be alone forever.

-He avoids the children for their own safety in case he has a panic attack about the labs of either lifetime and the things that were done to him.

-He avoids.

-Until one day, when Cloud is seven years old and has hidden himself in the farthest corner of the playground possible to get away from the too-loud noise of gossiping children on his too-sensitive ears, the new student the teachers mentioned (that Cloud hadn’t paid attention to) tromps up, squats down next to him and holds out a hand, “Hey,” he whispers as if he knows that Cloud is having a sensory overload day, “My name’s Noctis. Wanna be friends?”

-Cloud stares at blue, blue eyes the color of the sky, feels magic already wrapping around him in a boisterous sort of invisible hug and feels tears well up, “P-prompto.”

-The boy grins at him, bright as the sun in a way that almost hides the age in his eyes, “Hmmm, that’s a cool name and all, but I’m gonna give you a nickname. How about ... Cloud?”

-And Cloud knows.

-“Zack!” He wheezes as he lunges forward to catch his friend in a hug that is returned with equal desperation.

-“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Sorry I took so long to find you.”

-Noctis (Zack) and Prompto (Cloud) are inseparable from that point on. Zack drags Cloud to his limo after school and Cloud has no issues coming over for a sleepover that he knows is probably not going to end until they hit their age of majority. The other boy in the back seat (Ignis) eyes Cloud warily, but then smiles and welcomes him.

-Once at Zack’s house (the freaking Citadel, so much for being a simple country boy), Zack and Cloud cry their eyes out and plan and acknowledge that Minerva and Titan needed kicks in the teeth for making Zack be reborn as the CHOSEN KING. Now they just need to find Aerith.

-“Betcha she’s the Oracle” Cloud says as he sprawls on the sinfully fluffy carpet and glares at the ceiling.

-Zack whines because his wife is so far away!!

-Cloud thinks Regis chokes on his wine a little bit when Zack drags Cloud to dinner and introduces him by his “official” name. Cloud wonders if Regis remembers the tiny infant he made Cor give away.

-(Regis looks at the new friend his son has made, with blue eyes that seem to glow when in shadows and who wears a leather armband over one wrist at all times, and oh, OH he remembers. He remembers and he wonders with a swoop of dread if this friendship is really just coincidence).

-SO. Some other thoughts on this monster AU plunny: Aerith is Luna (obviously) and writes to the boys the moment Pryna and Umbra are old enough to use as messengers. Noctis is known for being a hyper, cheerful oddball while Prompto is his quiet, melancholy and too-serious friend that can bench press a suit of armor despite looking like a shrimp.

-Cor has a minor heart attack upon meeting Cloud, who instantly gloms onto him as if he remembers Cor (but that’s impossible, kids don’t remember things before the age of three right? RIGHT?).

-Prompto is not the sharpshooter in this verse. Sorry he isn’t. Cloud hates guns for Reasons (coughZack’s deathcough) and he is unnaturally strong. Of COURSE he’s going to take to swords at an early age. He designs his Fusion sword when he’s fourteen and Noctis/Zack splurges his entire royal allowance to get it forged by the royal weapons makers just for Cloud.

-Cloud is there when the Marilith thing happens, it was a road trip playdate that Regis grudgingly allowed.

-Regis shows up in time to see two tiny 7-8 year old children fighting off a Marilith with magic sparking off their bodies like supernovas, Prompto’s eyes glowing an eerie blue as he picks up a dead Crownsguard’s sword and wields it like its a paperweight and Noctis’s eyes burn blood red as he spams lightning spells and whoops like its all a game.

-Regis is Very Sure that neither of these boys are entirely normal. Or sane. But he’s just so glad they’re alive.

-Tenebrae invasion happens without Noctis being there, Luna/Aerith meets Ardyn and promptly begins working her Flower Girl magic.

-Ardyn may or may not show up at the Citadel two years later with Oracle kids in tow, looking to defect and feeling 120% more sane since taking to wearing Luna’s flower crowns and walking in the garden in the rain with her (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge).

-Noctis spots Luna, hurtles up at top speed, and announces to all and sundry that HI. HE’S NOCTIS. HE’S GOING TO MARRY YOU.

-While Regis tries to explain art you can’t just SAY THAT, Luna kneels down to be eye level with the now younger love of her life and tells him that if he still wants to marry her when he turns 19, then she will gladly oblige.

-Cloud and Ardyn hold a staring contest during which Ardyn rapidly puts together some pieces about the Chosen King child, the Oracle, and this little escaped Lab Boy and starts cackling like a lunatic.

-BAHAMUT YOU’RE IN FOR A WAKEUP CALL.

-Also at one point Titus and Prompto are alone in the same room for like- twenty minutes because Prompto is hiding in Titus’s office. Titus and him hold a staring contest before Titus’s lips twitch and his eyes flicker an eerie green.

-“Hello Cloud,” he purrs, “You aren’t angry I’m here?”

-Cloud crosses his arms and huffs goodnaturedly, “Who do you think talked Minerva into kicking your moping butt out for a second chance, Sephiroth? Also, if you’re using that creepy armor under your skin as an excuse to hurt Zack and his family-.”

-“Never,” Sephiroth says firmly, “I have been the slave of my experimenters before. I have no desire to be so again. I currently feed Regis information gleaned from General Glauca and only give the Empire non-information cleared ahead of time by the king.”

-“Okay then.”

-“Indeed.”

-And that is the start of the Glaives living confusion fever dream where they keep walking in on their Captain holding the WEIRDEST conversations with a Smol Child (or Children, Noctis gets in on it too) that range from insult contests and mockery of each other’s sword techniques to deep, soul-searching questions of existence and magic and how it relates to the soul.

-Nyx would really like it if life could start making sense again pls. These never happened before Prompto Argentum came along.

[trashynyland]

Alright, someone asked about this and I'm here to give.

There's not much to the HermitFamilyAU. I'll try and go in order in a way from oldest to recent characters that have been created so far.

Grian, mute avian hybrid. 23 but acts like an excited 10 year old. He communicates in bird, sign language, writing and charades. Only Mumbo, Iskall and Xisuma can understand Grian's bird talk (he'll chirp, squeak screech and squawk). He's a bundle of joy, really energetic, he loves to cuddle and he's usually always happy. He'll tend to stick by Mumbo's side a lot. He has the habit of sitting on people's shoulders, it helps him with his height dysphoria, makes him feel taller which makes him happy. He loves to build with his legos since he isn't allowed out of the house unless he's with Xisuma. He was abused by his parents who cut out his vocal cords with a knife at age 9. He's lived in the hermit household for 5 years. He has a feather shedding habit which Doc despises (that's what earned Grian the name "Feathers"). Grian and Doc have a love hate relationship but mostly, Grian loves being a little shit to Doc and annoy him. Grian can easily get sent into a panic attack if someone touches his neck without permission. He has trust issues and won't let anyone he doesn't know near him.

Mumbo, human but has the power to generate Redstone dust from his hair (like King Sparklez but he can generate the dust with his hands). He's 24 and a nervous wreck. Mumbo always needs an explanation to things he doesn't understand, if he doesn't get it then he'll try and figure it out himself. He's very shy around others he doesn't know and has a horrible stuttering habit when he has to talk to people he doesn't know. He loves hanging out with Grian (his comfort buddy boyfriend) and loves to help the little avian. His legs got shattered and ripped from a piston malfunction that he was trying to fix, they had to amputate his legs from the knee down. He's got Redstone prosthetics that are powered with Redstone (made by King Diamond). He has no recollection of his past, all he knows was that he showed up on the Redstone King's doorstep at age 7 and was adopted by the king. Mumbo's father is King Redstone (or CaptainSparklez) but Mumbo lives with Xisuma since Mumbo himself isn't found of the Royal lifestyle. But he works for his father and helps around the castle from time to time. Started living with Xisuma at age 19.

Iskall, slime hybrid. He's 27 and a comedian. He acts like a crazy uncle, loves to make inappropriate jokes but also acts like the 2nd father of the house. He loves to jokes around and pull pranks. He's very kind until you hurt his family in any way. Again, acts like the second dad of the house because things can get too crazy sometimes. When he was 16, he was shit in the eye by a blast spell which caused his eye to never grow back. Instead of getting an eye patch or a regular eye prosthetic he asked Mumbo and Doc to make him some kinda cool looking eye instead. He was abandoned by his mother at age 13, was taken in by Xisuma at age 15. He has abandonment issues.

Xisuma, Archangel hybrid (four wings, halo and 6 eyes. 4 of the eyes and the halo only appear when X uses his powers. Two of the wings get hidden beneath the top two wings.). He's over 1000 years old (but 38 in human age). He absolutely loves adopting and it's his horrible bad habit. He's been banned a few times from adoption centers because the guy can't control himself. Because of this, he's been named the "Caretaker" and "Dimensional Adopter". He's a Warrior (meaning he goes out to different dimensions to help out others in corrupted dimensions) but he's also a coder and hacker. He loves his family and would do anything to protect them. He was banished to the world Palace Concy at age 17(human age) and has lived there happily ever since. In his old world, he use to live in the heavens which had thin air. Since the air is much thicker on the ground and too much for him he wears a ventilator to help him breath better. He also can't die, he can respawn which he finds unsettling. When he dies he respawns in his bed. He's a bottom, he's gotta admit that and his husband is Doc (someone he first saved when he became a Warrior). Most of his scars on his body (including his "X" scar on his face) we're given to him by Doc himself on accident. He's a dad of the hermit household.

Doc, creeper human cyborg. He's 40 years old and a cranky guy. He tends to put up a touch guy act but in reality he's just a soft teddy bear. He'll only show his true softness when alone with Xisuma or playing with the kids. He's caring but will act like he doesn't give a shit. Parents call him Soccer Mom because of how prepared he is and how much he helps his kids but also because he tends to pick fights with the entitled parents who thinks their kid(s) are better than everyone, "News flash Christian! They aren't special!". His prosthetic arm, half head and neck, part of his chest and half is heart were all designed by King Diamond and Doctor Joe Atlantic(they also got some help from Prince Stampy). In Doc's old dimension he use to be a creeper that couldn't explode (which hunters found amusing so they'd pick on Doc and give him scars, basically abuse him). One day he fell in love with his world's Cub who later ended up turning him him an and forcing him to become his science experiment. Once he was deemed useless, Cub put him up for auction which Xisuma ended up buying him and taking him home. Doc has major trust issues with everyone and still doesn't trust Xisuma's 3rd new adoption, Cub Issatic who's always on edge and thinks someone is after his blood (character Cub is still a wip so this may change later on). Doc is surprisingly actually a cuddly type of hybrid. He loves to cuddle alone with X when they get the chance. Doc's husband is Xisuma. Doc is the mom of the hermit household.

Tango, very energetic guy, he's a Telikiantors (a mythical creature created by me the artist, there's a post I made about them but to be short, they're forest creatures that are like SirenHeads but don't eat humans unless provoked by them). Tango is a hybrid version of a Teli. He's 6 years old and still waiting for his future surgery to get on his mouth tail so he can start eating from it again (in his old home it was damaged). He loves to pull all sorts of pranks and is the house's little chaotic demon. Even with no arms, he can't be stopped. He use to be owned by an old woodworker who used Tango as his personal slave. Since Tango was young at the time and didn't know any better and was a child he'd always fool around and didn't listen. This angered his old owner who cut off Tango's arms off and cut his tail mouth so he couldn't eat. Xisuma stumbled upon him one night when the Archangel got lost on a hike in the woods. X saved him and adopted him at age 3. Even though Tango went through that torture he's still bubbly and doesn't have much trama. He's more unsure about things and will asked about them.

Impulse, he's a God actually who was the son of a lightning goddess and ocean god. He's currently 5 years old. When he was born his eyes were completely gold and blue but after his mother and father forced him to use his magic he went blind. Since he was only 3 at the time his eyes were still sensitive and not use to powerful magic or anything bright. His mother was frustrated with him that he couldn't summon up lighting or water so she summoned up some lightning and struck it right in front of Impulse which caused him to go blind and his eyes to lighten up a bit. When the parents left to argue after the situation, that's when Xisuma jumped into the dimension to save Impulse and take him away. Originally his eyesight was supposed to be fixed and he was supposed to be sent back to his home world but he refused the care and refused to leave X's side. He's very scared of powers and when people raise their voices. He's shy and fragile and can easily get overwhelmed by things. He has some sensitivity issues, where when he's so overwhelmed by something he can easily fall into a panic attack. Doc, as a Christmas gift, gave him two shovels that have turned into his comfort item. They help conceal his magic so it doesn't get too out of hand when he gets overwhelmed, upset or angry. He usually sticks by his brothers Tango and Zedaph's sides but when he's not with them then he'll be hanging around his dad, mom or one of his siblings while on a child leash (he doesn't mind the leash and actually loves it since it gives him comfort. He's still not use to being blind and all).

Zedaph, he's a witch, that what everyone knows so far. He's 5 years old and has a teddy bear attitude, his personality is very fluffy and caring. He loves the world and the world loves him. In his old dimension, he was a rich witch's slave and was forced to do dirty work. His owner once had enough of him one day when he accidentally dropped her food and his owner blasted his arm off. Because of the traumatic experience, Zed prefers to keep his eyes shut in fear of having to go through something terrible and scary again. His old owner sold him off to Xisuma who took him in and adopted him. Zedaph's powers are unknown because they haven't yet activated. He's been labelled as a witch for now because of the place he came from and his low power levels. His favorite person in the world his his Uncle Stizoom because of his fluffy hair and tail. He loves to curl up in anything soft and fluffy because of how comfortable and safe it makes him feel. It's the reason why he owns a large Wooloo plushy.

Cleo, a very rare zombie eel siren. She's 31 years old and doesn't like speaking. She likes to stay mute unless talking to Xisuma or False. Nothing seemed to be wrong with her old dimension same with her except that she was always bored. Pirates and fishermen always tried to catch her and at first Cleo loved to prank them but as she got more and more bored she started letting them capture her and sell her at black markets, auctions, sold to royals. She always knew how to escape and she found it fun at first but soon grew bored of it all again. It was always the same routine. Xisuma found her while he was wondering her dimension in a black market. He asked her if she wanted to join him but of course she said nothing. Xisuma ended up buying her and bring her home with him. Cleo has never tried to leave or escape since (except to False's bedroom to sleep with her).

Ren, dog hybrid who has DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). Since he has many different identities all have different personalities (check out his character sheet for more details on all the identities). But mostly Ren is in charge and upfront to control the body, he is the main host after all. Ren is the definition of the one crazy uncle. He's comedic, crazy and loves to put a smile on others faces, he's also very playful. He can get flustered easily if someone dominates him (either in bed or at his own games like flirting). Ren and the body are about 21. In his old world he was abused a lot, mostly chained to a wall in a basement his entire life. He was abused a lot by his owner alpha and many other bad things. It's where a lot of his trama comes from. He one day ended up escaping but fell through a dimensional portal and ended up in Palace Concy. He was found in the woods passed out by Slime n Bone podcast who were taking a vacation with the Woodworks family in the Kosikians Sky (mt. DeathLoxes) mountains. He's was taken to Xisuma after the podcast group couldn't figure out how to help him since Ren wouldn't say anything and just shake in fear in the corner. He was taken in by X which Ren is very greatful for. Ren is scared of everyone since he's an omega and comes from an omegaverse, he thinks an alpha will come and hurt him again. Ren has a huge crush on Iskall and even though he knows the man likes him back he's too scared to ask him out. Ren loves to hang out with Grian, Doc and sometimes Iskall when he isn't blushing nervous. Very cool dude.

Bdubs, human but is immune to explosives but can still get stabbed. He's 19 actually and has a big habit of getting into trouble with Impulse and Tango. He works at an explosives store in town, helps out the construction crews when they need a certain area exploded and loves to volunteer at the firework stands that pop up during July 1st "Redstone Founders Day" (Bdubs favorite holiday). He's enthusiastic and doesn't mind teaching kids about explosives and safety in his spare time. He loves causing trouble when he can but he also loves helping out others with decorating. He's got a side job he's made "Bdubs Interior Design" and usually many people hire him for help. He use to live in a HermitCraft world when he decided to leave one year and stubbled upon an Earth dimension which he was then used as a bomber during the everlasting wars that were going on. He was one day capture and take to Palace Concy by Lunch Army and was then later adopted by X. During his time on the Earth War he gained black smudge on his face that X has found won't come off so it's become part of Bdubs skin basically. Some have called him blackface and think that he's being racist but he's not. He's just got some black smudge on his face that is unremovable. He's bubble and loves to make others smile when having a bad day. He doesn't really have any trama except for being weary of portals. He's got a crush on Keralis but won't admit it.

Keralis, human. He's 18 (looks 16) and a punk. He's mean and bitchy to everyone and doesn't let a single soul through his walls (he doesn't let others see his emotions and what he's really feeling). He love to break the law and pick fights. He works with "Brtakis Construction Company" which causes him to travel from home a lot. He's very strong and can pack a punch. He's a warrior so that's why he's got his own special weapon, he's not allowed on any dimensional missions but he's allowed to kill Alumas (soul takers) when they show up. In his old dimension he was a homeless immigrant who lived on the streets of New York (where he earned his punk attitude). He was saved by Xisuma one night when he was about to get killed by a gang group, almost got shot in the head. X had offered him a home but Keralis denied his offer. It took 5 years of constant saves and denied offers until one year he almost committed suicide he finally opened up to X and accepted his offer with a wailing sob. He still keeps his punk attitude because he grew up with it but also because he finds it cool. He also kept it because of Doc, Keralis wants to be just like the guy. All smug and strong. Doc is the person he looks up to, his idol in a way. His trama? He gets scared and panicked when left alone and he can't go near any big cities that are similar to New York.

Wels, avian hybrid mixed with an angel hybrid. He owns a halo that's cracked and shattered but only appears when he's angry. He's got beautiful golden wings that goes along with his ruby red hair. He's 15 but a secret Drag Queen at night. He loves to entertain people and put on a show, show off what he can do. He loves the stage and to him it's his home and life. (Idk how to explain it but he's just like the YouTube Wels but gay). He owns two Drag Personas, Cherry Rider who's his usual sona he dresses as who can be a wild ride. Cherry is an encouraging fool that will try and help anyone build up their confidence to do anything that their heart desires to do. His other persona is HelsKnight, Hels is a naughty bad fool who, for Wels is his way of getting his anger out in style and in a safe way. He'll preform and have a happy attitude when Cherry but have a dark and naughty~ attitude when being Hels. Because of X's worry, Wels has paired up with Doc on the weekends to do drag but pairs up with Skeppy during the weekdays for drag. Since he's young he still needs parental vision. Not much about his past except for being an orphan all his life and getting bullied at school and at his orphanage for being gay and loving to cross dress. When Xisuma adopted him, Wels hid his love for drag which ended up causing problems because when Cherry Rider first appeared on TV Xisuma fell in love for her and was horrified when he found out the drag person character was his son. After a bit of awkward talking and drag performances from Doc for X, Xisuma got over his silly love crush for Cherry and told Wels that he accepts who he is and will always love him as family. Xisuma told him that it would just be a bit awkward for awhile because X still had to get over the fact that his favorite drag queen he had a crush on was actually his adopted son. Doc helped both X and Wels after the reveal. Wels grew more confident and stopped hiding his drag cross dressing side (while his father Xisuma got over his crush and dropped it entirely but he ended up crushing on Wels' drag performance partner Skeppy). Wels still has a small fear of being himself in front of others but has overcome most of that fear because he knows his family has got his back (especially his over protective Dadsuma who would kill anyone who hurts his family and his Docmom who will murder any parents that talk his son down, "I'm lookin at you Rebecca! Your daughter is a lesbian and will never be straight you blind fu-"). Wels has a small crush on Biffa (an orphan friend of his that lives on the other side of the world (Biffa is still being developed) who Xisuma is thinking about adopting.

Jevin, rare blue slime hybrid. He's 1 year old and there's not much to him. He's a happy a baby who has a weird love obsession life with the Jello food. Iskall loves to take that and tease his baby brother with it (like stabbing his lil brother's jello in front of him and watching him cry about it, Iskall just finds Jevins whole Jello obsession hilarious). Xisuma actually found Jevin in a basket by his tracker right before he was about to work on his farm fields. Jevin will usually be hanging out with Iskall since he's also a slime and the hybrid connection helps them work better with each other. But also since Xisuma and Doc have no idea how to take care of a slime hybrid since they're hard to come by in Concy and there's not many books about them, so the two husbands let nature take it's course with Iskall since it looks like he knows what he's doing.

NPC Grian or Rustie, he's a demon but apparently can change into a robot? He's an interesting type. He's 25 and a cheerful man. He works in architecture, both with planning out the building and how it will look along with the construction. He also works at a bookstore named "BookRook". He's sweet and kind but will snap your neck in you make him angry, a smile with a dark atmosphere like aph Russia. He loves his kids but if he finds Grain making anY MORE ROBOTS THEN HE'S GOING TO-. He love to volunteer for events and he loves his husband Zoom. He was found by Zoom in his old dimension where Rustie was still locked and hibernating in his closet. He would have taken his robot brother with him but Robot Grian was in horrible condition and... dead so there was no use of him. Rustie owns a nice little rustic cabin in the woods beside a like with a great view. He and Zoom built the house and nother are proud of their work and family.

Evil Xisuma or Stizoom(Zoom), a Strider hybrid but fluffier. He's 27 and has a very gentle heart. He loves nature with a passion and Rustie tends to find him curdle up in his flower beds quite often. He likes to bird watch and plant flowers. He's a five star chief for "Blossburgi Restaurant" and a karate teacher for "Hightri's Karate". He hates the cold and loves to cuddle up with Rustie during the cold seasons and Rustie finds it adorable. Luckily, the two own a nearby hot springs so when things get to cold, Zoom will go hang out in the hot springs for awhile. He loves animals, all kinds. In his old dimension he was always forced to be near creatures and he always hated the small to so little space he always got. Xisuma found him and took him in for all awhile until Zoom found and fell in love with Rustie. His husband is Rustie and they both love each other very much. Very cute :3.

HermitPets, they're more used and made for a different AU of mine but in HermitFamily they're more background characters for sorts. Not much.

HermitFamily house, huge house I mean huge. It's a mansion that's up in the Stonety Mts. It sits in a large valley surrounded by mountains. The valley is actually a farm the the hermit house owns. They grow crops and sell it the small nearby town they live by named "Vellenture". Their house, in the back has a large poor (more of a lake and it's for Cleo) but it attaches to a nearby forest. The house itself, on the outside is a creamy white and on the inside, many colors. (I'll have to draw it out for a better explanation but basically the house looks like Grian's mansion but a creamy white and rustic grey.

[mpxzane]

“We all have dark thoughts dear, some of us are just not as good at hiding it as others.”

tw: death, abuse, violence, drugs

Broken;

“You called me a monster, you wanted a monster. And now… you’ve got one… aren’t I generous?”

As a young god, he was clumsy, messy, unorganized but - he did his best with the task he was given as his people’s god of death. He was lanky, awkward, ill-prepared for the large task of tending to the souls that he was graciously given the responsibility or ruling over. Others in his pantheon were by his side as he found his way, comforted him and helped him along so that he could be the great ruler of the underworld that he was born to be. However, nothing and no one could have taught him or told him how to juggle the struggle of his duties with falling in love. Nothing could have prepared him for the mess his own heart had gotten him into.

He was naïve, easily controlled by his emotions, and quick to fall in love. Another young goddess, also naïve and new to the world of feelings, relationships, and just anything outside of their duties as gods - caught the young god of death’s eye. Slowly the two came together, careful and unsure as they had never felt this way before, nor did they know they were even capable of feeling something so strongly for another. It was a crawling speed at which they finally collide but when they did… the feeling was as if two stars had just collided with one another. Sparks, flashing lights, racing hearts, love, and passion came in droves. Overwhelming the two young gods with things they had never experienced before, only seen others experience it or seen the mortals they watch over fall in love.

Perhaps the passion was too much, the love was too strong, the friendship not strong enough… because no matter what they felt in the beginning it all fell apart in an explosion in the end.

She made him love himself in a way he never had before because she loved every part of him. The clumsiness, the awkwardness, the lankiness, the unbearable smell he had no control over– and he loved all there was to love about her. From the love she had for her pantheon, the love she had for the mortals she was tasked with caring for, her graciousness, her smile, her eyes, her lips– he loved all of her just as she loved him. Yet, it wasn’t enough in the end. Although he chose her over his duties over, and over, and over again… she couldn’t do the same for him. He understood that the mortals in her care were important to her but, he wanted to be just as important to her… he just wanted to be equal to them in her eyes rather than less than.

Yet, she still chose them over him. To the point of leaving him forever… forever choosing her love for mortals over the love she shared with him.

He couldn’t understand it, was he too much? Was he not enough? Was he too much of the monster she used to say he was? In anger she had called him a disgusting monster… if she saw him as a disgusting monster then that is what he would become… just for her.

Nothing could have prepared him for falling love… but more than that, nothing could have prepared him for getting his heart broken into shards of broken glass. Shards he used to chisel out who he would become.

Ruler;

“When an owl screeches, someone nearby will die. If you hear a hoot, take a deep breath and count to ten.”

The soft jingle of bells follows Cizin as he walks the cold and quiet night streets of the Earth. The dark surrounding him as he lumbers along the cobblestone pathways. His wide owl eyes awaiting the one who shall join him in his trip back to Mitnal. His gaunt, decaying body dragging along the streets, the shuffle and jingle of the bells in his feather a haunting thing for anyone to witness. A literal manifestation of people’s worst nightmares. He was created from their worst fears. The fears of those terrified of death. His faithful and equally terrifying companion Muan flies overhead, helping the Lord of Death and Ruler of Mitnal decide who will be joining him tonight. His ominous size and daunting symbolism as his wings are spread in the air, terrifying anyone who hears his screeches.

With every daunting step of his boney feet along the pathways, he passes the doors of unsuspecting mortals. Each one doing all they can to keep the horrifying Cizin at bay. Some keep him placated without even realizing, the sounds of wailing women bringing him joy. As each impact of fist to cheek is felt as a vibration in his chest, her fear and torment feed every urge in his bones. Other doors hide crying children, being reprimanded by strict parents, their anguish and misery filling him with warmth as he passes by them. Nightmares wrack others, leaving them to roll around in restless sleep, the torment of their own minds wreaking havoc on their psyche was enough to make him sigh in contentment. He continues along the streets, bones and bells alerting anyone close enough to his presence.

It’s the quiet homes that pull at his ears, the silence leaving a hunger in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t happy knowing someone behind a quiet door isn’t experiencing some form of misery. This brings him into the homes of sleeping families, a wave of a hand and eyes glowing red bring nightmares and horrifying ideas into the minds of innocents.

Night after night, he would come to the surface to bring chaos to the minds of mortals. Collecting souls to follow him to Mitnal and accepting the offerings given to him by his loyal followers. There was something missing though, something he couldn’t quite place. He was bored. Bored of his work in Mitnal and on Earth. Mortals were becoming more and more comfortable with chaos and pain as they wrecked it on themselves and those around them just as much as he did. It wasn’t filling to hear a battered woman cry or children to weep in the night. The vibrations of their agony no longer fill him with happiness and placating his hunger. He needed something new.

This brought him to the home of a vile human being. His favorite kind. A vicious man as horrible as him. One who made it his purpose in life to steal from the poor, vulnerable, and innocent. A killer who paid no mind to the innocent men, women, and children who’s souls he sent The Lord every evening. Cizin did not fear him, nor was he happy to be taking over his life. This disgusting man made his job as a god so much easier, for this mortal was not restricted to the streets at night or to the confines of a decaying body. He’d seen other gods use mortals as their vessels, to blend in with the disgusting rats they so loved. He didn’t understand it at first but, he was bored and boredom brought experimentation. The Lord reached out to the mortal he respected as he slept and laid a skeletal hand on his slowly rising and falling chest.

A flash of light and Cizin had made his choice.

This should be fun…

Humanity;

“Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.”

When Ah Puch imagined humanity, he imagined those he saw in the dead of night, the souls he would take from the earth and leave to be tormented forever in Mitnal. The mortals he saw were the ones who wailed and screamed to keep him away, those who rightfully feared him and hated him. Those who worshipped him with all of their being and were shunned by their peers. What he did not imagine were those he would see in the light of day. The kind that were soft and sweet, forgiving, smart, and patient. He hated them, perhaps he was even jealous of them. Jealous of the love they give and also receive in return. Ah Puch spent centuries believing that he was happiest when he was feared and hated but, being surrounded by the rats he grew to hate… he realized why the one he loved chose them over him… which only made him hate them even more.

However, the god could appreciate them at the same time, for this side of humanity was what made the demons he influenced all the more powerful. Evil and filthy mortals that feed off the innocent ones, taking their fear and naivety and using it to make themselves more powerful. To Ah Puch mortals are nothing more than disposable rats, rats he can influence to do his bidding with no care if they die for him or not. Wanting nothing more than to cause chaos and torment their kinder counterparts. These easily manipulated rats are what helped Ah Puch find power. As he played the wealthy businessman and con artist, they were slinking around the back alleys of the cities he called home, taking control over the communities around him with threats and fear tactics. His worker rats made him stronger as he found power among stupid mortals that fell for anything that came out of his mouth. While his rats did his dirty work, he was able to charm his way into the lives and minds of some of the most powerful groups in the world. Surrounding himself with other people’s greed, lust, and their desire for misery and chaos, their destructive natures and skewed morals only made his work as a god of death and chaos that much easier.

It was also quite fun for him to watch their souls slowly turn to ash in the pits of Mitnal for the crimes he convinced them to commit.

If he’d known mortals were this easily manipulated and molded to his will, he’d have taken a vessel much sooner than he had. He found the rats were so easily turned self destructive, this discovery would become the easiest way he would fill the hunger for misery in his stomach. The pit that constantly needs to be filled with anguish, pain, and chaos. Torture at his own hands was few and far between as he had to keep up the mask with the more elite mortals. However, the hands of his minions were free to be covered in blood in his name, yet murder and torture just wasn’t doing it for him anymore. He needed a new method. Instead of hunting for himself or having his minions find an innocent face for him to torment, he found that simply supplying weak-minded mortals with inhibitors was just the thing he needed to placate his hunger. It was so easy for them to fall under the control of the inhibitors he and his minions would supply him, too weak to fight their own weak, mortal ways of becoming addicted to what he gave them.

Ah Puch started with alcohol, cocaine, and tobacco. Some of the easiest addictions he found that mortals would cling to if offered at just the right moment in their pathetic lives. Sex and love were next, discovering that to the weak minded people on his streets were just as susceptible to who addictions as any hard physical drugs. The new era mortals gave him so many more things to use against them, things that would bring them to their knees and right into his pocket. The amount of drugs and inhibition reducing pass times just increased with the creation of technology and the snowball of toxic relationships, just fueled him in new ways he never thought possible. At this point he barely had to put any work in at all… the idiot mortals were practically giving their corrupted souls to him on a silver platter. Nothing quite beats having some poor, weak minded mortal in his bed - high as a kite and confessing their undying love to him as their god, only to have a complete mental breakdown days or even hours later… This new era took him to a new level of chaotic euphoria.

With his hunger so easily filled thanks to humanity’s own downfall, he needed something to take up his time. These ventures only helped him get richer and richer so, by the end of the 1970’s he took up collecting. Collecting all different things mortals found disgusting or “evil”. He admired them. Admired these objects and all the stories and history they carry. There was something about the energy in his collection that comforted him. Knowing that all these objects that were considered “junk” or terrified mortals were safe with him, and knowing that even objects could hold evil and chaos like him brought him a level of what he could only describe as feeling like he was truly home.

Business;

“Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts… perhaps the fear of a loss of power.”

When European historians discovered the original stories of him and his pantheon, well the stories of the original Cizin, the skeletal god who walked the earth only at night. They gave him a new name, “God A” among what they were classifying as the alphabetical Mayan deities. Out of spite, he gave himself a new name. Zane. The final letter of the English alphabet inspiring his new spiteful expression of self. It was around this time he learned of the creation of a new, enchanted island. An island made just for gods and their half-blooded children. A bizarre concept to him, to imagine gods and goddesses of all pantheons loving together with their half-mortal children. He thought about at least visiting to see what all the fanfare was about, but the thought of running into his own half-blooded children caused him to hesitate. He had a few that he could remember but, none of them were worth any of his time. He had better things to worry about than a few mistakes that happened to be his children. As if any of them would actually want anything to do with him anyways, no child wants a psychotic monster as a father. Zane couldn’t imagine even if he did care (which he doesn’t) that his children would care to meet or learn about the monster their god parent was. So, he ignored them and let them go about their lives, whatever that may be.

Finally, he decided to feed his curiosity of this island he kept hearing about among the gods in the early 1990s. He moved into a dusty apartment above a dirty, old store in an obscure alley of the Red Light district he decided to lovingly name - Sombra Muerte. That store would easily become one of his favorite accomplishments. He chose not to promote his shop, word of mouth was enough for him and the quieter his store was the better in his opinion. There is a reason he used to leave dealing with customers and clients in the hands of his assistants and minions, he could be charming when he needed to - schmoozing had become quite a talent of his - however he could only handle but so much before he was tired of it. Customers came and went of the years and he did his best to keep the regulars happy and new customers in the mood to return. The front of the back alley curiosities shop was dark, brooding, gothic, evil, and odd. A perfect home for his collection. The basement of said shop held an even darker secret that the Lord of Death kept well. His empire of schemes was still going strong, being run out of the same place that masqueraded as an oddities shop. It took him over three centuries to build up his empire to encompass almost the entire mortal world, he wasn’t going to leave it in the hands of anyone else just so he could prance around in a city full of other gods.

With drugs, schemes, sex, and oddities taking up his time and filling that pit in his stomach, he rarely visits Mitnal anymore. Finding it more fulfilling to wreak havoc and create chaos among gods and half-bloods and it was much more fun than dealing with ratty little mortals all the time.

Since learning of the power of torment and torture that humans are able to withstand and still live. He took on a new job, one catering to those only of a specific nature. Discovering there are times when he can torture and torment without having to kill and still feel fulfilled. Then, watching the poor humans - well half-humans - become addicted to this pain and pleasure slowly lose themselves was all the more enjoyable for him. With drugs, sex and oddities taking his time and fulfilling his nature, he rarely visits Mitnal anymore. Finding that wreaking havoc among gods and half-bloods to be much more fun than playing with ratty, little mortals.

Changing;

“Nothing is so painful to the mind as a great and sudden change.”

It’s been years now. He’s intertwined himself with the half-mortals for many years and he’s been dealing with mortals for even longer. As his time living on Mount Phoenix grows - Zane can feel a change in him being sparked. A change that he is not sure if he likes. Perhaps it’s the influence of the many different personalities that he comes into contact with now, maybe it’s the several children of his that have come into his life. Either way he is not happy about any of it. He’s started to go soft that last year or so and there is now and in his gut. A stinging behind his eyes and a spark in his stone cold heart that hasn’t been ignited since his heart was shattered a millennia ago. The old feeling of disgust he held around demigods was not as strong anymore and he hated himself for the slight cracks that were appearing in his obsidian encrusted heart. Zane hasn’t been anything but ruthless, controlling, deceptive, and hateful since he was broken as a young god. New emotions have begun to bubble up inside of him, he’s started to struggle with his identity. Nothing he does feels right anymore, yet, the pit of anguish and chaos in his stomach is numbing. The cravings for misery and pain are lesser now, rather than all he could think about.

After a long, much needed, trip to his home in Mitnal he has returned just as confused as he was when he left. He knew what these feelings were and deep down he was terrified of them. The last time he allowed his emotions to be as strong as mortals, he fell in love and his heart was shattered into a trillion tiny pieces. Zane was left a tattered and broken version of the god he once was and he built himself back up into the monster he became. Nothing ever the same for him after that, never having felt anything but pain since she chose the mortals he grew to hate over him. It was easier for him to allow himself to be feared rather than to allow himself to be loved and give love. He never wanted to feel that pain again… Perhaps, that is why he keeps no attachments. You can’t get hurt by love if you have none.

Zane always held the belief that he would never love his children. To him they are all nothing but disgusting half-bloods, born from the species he can’t stand. Yet, something is changing there too. It’s a hard feeling to describe, and the closet this can get to in words is guilt. He feels guilt for leaving them to be raised by pathetic rats who hate him. If he’d tried to care for them sooner, they could have been raised by some great - a god! They would have grown to be so much more than just half-bloods with no direction. Perhaps one day he could grow to love them in his own way. They are of his blood and as much as Zane hates himself and mortals… maybe the combination will open a new part of him that he hasn’t reached yet.

[marvelmymarvel]

Serial Killer (Part 5)

Keigo Takami x Ex-Hero!Todoroki!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: After being held captive by the LoV for over a year, the heroes realized that they had messed you up in ways no one would expect. You used to be a hero, but now you were the villain. What was Keigo to do with you when you couldn’t even remember him anymore?

Trigger Warning: Abuse

A/n: BACKSTORY TIME BITCHES - 

READ FIRST:

Narrator is Keigo (So he talks about himself in 1st person) and is bolded. The readers flashbacks based on what Keigo says are in italics. So imagine its Keigo talking to you in bolded and then you have flashbacks in italics. 

It began when you were 4. You didn't have the most powerful quirk especially when compared to your older brother and sister as well as your slightly younger brother, but your father didn't seem to give up. He pushed you harder and harder to be the best of the best as he was worried that you were all he could get, which I think is good enough but... That doesn't matter. You told me once that you only knew your mother for a couple of years, but the main memory you had of her was that she was always crying. Your father kept you away from all of your siblings. You were so isolated in fact that you didn’t even know you had a brother until Mother's day of one year, which is when you met Shoto, your fathers chosen one.

At first you were jealous of him, being only 5 years old, you didn’t understand why your father chose him but kept you away. This caused you to resent him which is when you began to prefer Yagi, er, I mean All Might even more. You first met your father's enemy at a party when you were around the age of 7.

It was held at your father's penthouse and you were allowed to be there for some reason that you didn’t quite understand yet. All of the pro’s around you made you feel so small and afraid, but then you saw him. He was bigger than everyone else, especially your father, but you were drawn to his red, yellow, and blue costume. You knew he was someone your dad hated, but you couldn’t help but yearn to be closer to him. Your little fist reached up and grabbed the edge of his cape before lightly pulling. Some of the women around you gasped, as if you had done something wrong, but the man simply turned and smiled down at you.

“Well hello there little one!!” Yagi yelled out, causing you to flinch in fear that you were in trouble. Seeing your reaction, he lowered his voice and squatted down to match your height. “What's your name” he stated calmly, grabbing your little hand that still grasped his cape. “I’m Y/n... I’m the daughter of Endeavor” you whispered out, growing shy once more as the women scoffed behind him. Your cheeks reddened but the man turned and sent a glare their way. “She’s just a kid” he stated firmly and that was all that needed to be said for the women to shut up. 

Turning back to you, he shook the hand he was still holding. “I’m All Might... Your dad and I grew up together and went to school together. I’ve met your other siblings, but you’re definitely one I haven’t met yet. It’s very nice to meet you Y/n” All Might said sweetly as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your cheeks reddened more as you bashfully shot a smile at him. All Might giggled at your reaction before standing up and looking around. “What do you say we find your dad?” 

Your dad was pissed to see that you had met All Might and that you were more excited about All Might than your own dad. It made things worse between Enji and you, and you were further excluded from everything. But no matter what your father did, he couldn’t stop you from drawing All Might and placing him around your room. You proclaimed that it made you feel safer when your father was angry or you were left alone with only the maid to take care of you. When it came time for you to go to highschool, your father didn’t let you apply to UA, claiming you weren’t worthy enough for the school. So you decided to try for Shiketsu like your sister did before you. 

Through your years at Shiketsu, you managed to control your powers and rise through the ranks in the school. When people talked about how cool you were to be Endeavors daughter, you’d laugh and brush them off. Because you hated it. One day you told someone how you wanted to be All Mights daughter, it was a joke, but something in you switched. 

The bags scattered around your room were the first sign to Enji that something was going on. “Where do you think you’re going” his voice boomed in your room, causing you to tense up by your bed. You couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell him that you got All Might to mentor you in Tokyo. Clearing your throat, you zipped up the bag and turned to face your father who was now standing in front of you. He towered over you, something you were always afraid of. But not anymore.

“The school is requiring that we get mentoring from a pro-”

“Then I’ll do it” Enji scoffed, offended that you wouldn’t ask him first, but your glare only burned brighter at his words. How dare he. He acted like you were nothing special and that Shoto your baby brother was going to be the only one to succeed in this family. It was bullshit. 

“All Might is going to be my mentor” you hissed out, pushing past your father to grab your other bag and keys.Your dads hand grabbed your wrist all while the heat from his hands began to burn your skin. “LET GO OF ME YOU MONSTER” You screamed out all while trying to rip your poor wrist from his giant hand. The flames on his face grew brighter as he yanked you to him like a ragdoll. “Listen to me you little bitch. If you leave and go to All Might I will never claim you as my daughter again” He snarled in your face as the spit from his mouth landed on your face, causing you to cringe at the disgusting feeling. You were used to his spit on your face, but not anymore.

“I never wanted to be yours in the first place” you snapped back, squaring up your shoulders ready to fight him if needed. Your palms were ignited in blue flames, a warning for him to let you go before you burned his house to the ground. His blue eyes seemed to burn more at your words, but you were done with it all. Shoving your leg up, you managed to knee him in the groin before punching him in the jaw. He flew back a bit from the force, slightly shocked at how strong you had become. You grabbed your bag and ran out the door. You had no money, or food, and only a couple outfits...

But you were free.

It took about 4 hours to get to Tokyo. It would have only taken 3 hours, but you had to beg for money for a straight hour just to get a train ticket. It was embarrassing to beg for something you always had, but you instantly felt a bit of relief at the sight of Might tower in front of you. You were surprised that he had agreed to mentoring you, considering you were his rivals daughter, you’d figured he wouldn’t care about you nor remember you. But he did remember you and he never forgot the fear in your eyes when you saw Enji. Fathers were supposed to protect their babies, and while All Might never had kids, he knew that you deserved better.

You walked in there with such vigor and pride despite having to beg and plead for money only 4 hours earlier. The secretaries didn’t see the pain behind your eyes, but All Might did. When you entered his office, he immediately knew that you were on your own and that you didn’t leave Endeavor peacefully. It was in that moment that All Might took you in and you learned his real name, Yagi Toshinori. You were only 17, so Yagi didn’t think of adopting you... But he wished he would have saved you sooner.

You moved into Yagi’s giant mansion and were slowly but surely shown the love of a father. You didn’t know what love was at first, but Yagi was determined to not only mentor you, but also show you what you deserved. I mean, that's why you chose me afterall, I’m the sweetest you’ve ever had - OW OW OKAY! Sorry, I’ll continue. 

We met while you were on duty with All Might. You were about 18 and had just graduated Shiketsu. All Might instantly offered you a sidekick position and you of course said yes. Well, I was trying to fly around and practice, when my coat got caught on a street light and I fell in front of you. Guess you could say I fell for you-OW Stop hitting me! 

Anyway, you helped me up while All Might laughed behind you. At first I was embarrassed because the number one Pro-Hero was laughing at me, but then I saw your face and how angelic you looked. Your smile was so pretty and your e/c eyes sent a wave of warmth through me as you helped me up from the ground.

“You should really be careful friend” you purred out as you bent down and grabbed his ripped jacket. “Sorry you ruined your jacket, I’m sure you can find someone to sew it up-”

“My God you’re an angel”

You froze in your place, looking at him confusedly while handing him his jacket. You let out an awkward laugh as you looked back for All Might to help you, but he was gone, leaving you alone with the creepy bird guy. “Uh... Thanks?” You questioned, not quite sure if he was kidding or hit his head. You then realized instantly that he didn’t mean to say it at all. His cheeks heated up and his jaw dropped, “I SAID THAT?! OMG” he screeched out, causing you to wince at the high pitch. 

But then you laughed.

It was genuine and airy, something that took the boys breath away. “You’re funny, I like you” you teased before shooting your hand out for him to shake. “The names Y/n, I’m being mentored by All Might. By the looks of it, it seems like you’re also training, hope it's for good though!” you proclaimed out as he took your hand and shook it slowly, he let your hand drop but the feeling still burned in his hand. He let a smile form on his lips at the last part, of course he was a good guy! He was trained all his life to be.

“I’m Keigo Takami, my hero name is going to be Hawks and I hope one day to do two things” he stated firmly, finally feeling his confidence come back at your red cheeks. “And what are those two things Hawk's” you stated, shoving your hands into the pockets of your suit. It was a special place that cooled down your overheated fingers, a must when using your quirk this much. 

“Oh thats easy, to be number one hero and to meet Endeavor”

I could tell instantly I said the wrong thing to you because your cheery aura turned into something much darker. It felt heavy, sad and deep, as if the name I said had hurt you before. I asked you what was wrong, but you shook your head and backed away from me, muttering something about how you had to go. I never got your number and I thought I would never get the chance to talk to you again. But then a year later, I got another chance. It was a party for the pros in Tokyo, I had risen the ranks quickly with secret hopes that I would see you at such parties. Then I saw you, standing by the bar as you ordered a girly drink to go with your girly dress. I came up to you, set on making things right and finally getting your number. 

“So what did I say that made you run?” a voice cooed in your ear, causing a mixture of cool and hot to circle in your stomach. You turned around with the drink in your hand, ready to face the man you couldn’t stop thinking about for all the right and wrong reasons. “Hmm?” You hummed out innocently, dipping back the cocktail glass to allow some of the cold liquid into your mouth. The alcohol instantly burned your throat, reminding you of the way your father used to grip your neck with that same level of heat. 

You gulped deeply, trying to forget the man that still haunted you all while staring at the new man you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. “What do you want Keigo” you muttered out, tired of him just standing there and staring at you. You subconsciously looked around the room for Yagi, but couldn’t find him anywhere. You were alone in this. 

Shit.

A soft hand grabbed your wrist causing you to flinch and rip it away. “Don't touch me there” you snapped, pulling your wrist to your chest as if he burned you. Keigo’s eyes widened at your reaction, he never meant to hurt you, he just wanted to apologize... That was it!

“Listen, I apologize for whatever i said to you that day. To be honest with you, I haven't quite gotten you out of my head and I was hoping maybe I could try again?” He stated sweetly, his red wings folding in a bit closer to his body. He hoped to look small to you and like someone who was not a threat. You bit your lip at him, finally realizing that your reactions, while justified, were over the top. The man in front of you was not your father.

‘You have to learn to trust again, Y/n... That's the best way of letting go of your dad’ Yagi’s words floated through your head as you looked Keigo up and down. You took note of him trying to look smaller and your heart lurched a bit. 

He was trying to get you to trust him.

Your shaky hand moved outwards, as if asking for him to grab it. He moved slowly, not wanting to scare you again before taking your hand in his. A smile broke out on his face as he stepped closer to you. Your breath caught at the smile on his face. It was so pretty, you thought as you dipped back the glass and downed the rest of the alcohol. For once, you didn’t think of the heat in your throat as your fathers punishment, you thought of it as the way Keigo was looking at you.

Hot and full of passion.

He grabbed your glass and set it down on the bar before pulling you out to the floor. “Shall we dance the night away?” he asked in your ear, causing a shiver to rip down your spine. The alcohol in your tummy felt heavenly and it was starting to make your head feel the same way all while Keigo's hands gripped your hips in order to center you. He began to waltz with you before spinning you around. The smell of your shampoo and perfume mixed in his nose, making him feel euphoric as your body moved with his. You were trusting again, you would trust this man and you would let go of your father.

No matter what it took.

After that night, we began dating. You told me slowly about your past and I calmed down my Endeavor love for you. I didn’t want you thinking I would choose your father over you, because I loved you and only you. Endeavor may have gotten me through my shit childhood, but you opened my eyes. You showed me what love was truly like and I showed you that no matter what you could trust me. I proposed to you a year after that night, you of course said yes and we decided to get an apartment together. It was the first time away from Yagi and you were scared, but you jumped for me. 

And then he took you from me.

The fact that I wasn’t there to save you from that villain, sickens me. You trusted me, and yet I wasn’t there to save you. I don’t know what they did to you there but I hope to get back at them for it. You are my princess.

And no one touches MY princess.

Not your father and not a lowlife villain. I hope you can trust me again, even if I let you down. I hope you can love me again, even if you can’t remember it all. I just hope that one day, we will get back to normal and start a family like we planned before it all went to shit. But until that day happens. Know I’ll be there to for you.

Every step of the way.

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

False (red) Colours

As far as situations went, Virgil was pretty sure his was unique.

Not because of the whole hunting vampires thing; apparently there were tonnes of those people scattered around the globe. Heck, Virgil probably wasn’t the only hunter to join the cause because he’d been enamored by a goddamn beautiful idiot who he couldn’t just walk away from. But if he came across another vampire pretending to be human to go on vampire hunting trips with said idiot, then he had to congratulate them, because keeping this shit secret was hard.

Not that Virgil felt bad for the vampires they hunted down. He and Roman only went after the nasty ones anyway, the ones who took their strength and longevity and used it for their own gain, to punish or control those around them. So no, Virgil didn’t particularly care about those vampires. They were just bloodsuckers who abused their power, they were practically asking to be staked.

Which was why he didn’t feel bad for what they were about to do.

“Anything yet?” Roman asked from the drivers seat. They’d parked in a shadowy junkyard to observe the comings and goings of an old, disused storage facility on the edge of town. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, now that you mention it, I saw a vampire earlier and decided not to mention it because I like sitting in a dark car in the middle of the night.” He drawled. Roman pulled out his sword to sharpen it lazily and Virgil hissed at him. “Put that thing away! You’ll end up stabbing someone.”

Roman snorted. “Kinda the plan, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the plan to not stab me.” Virgil muttered. Roman, the gorgeous idiot, just grinned at him crookedly and rolled his eyes. The moment only lasted a moment, however, because his gaze sharpened and locked onto something through the window. The hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stood on end. He quickly followed Roman’s stare.

Movement at the mouth of the building. A figure scurried through the entrance, shutting the door after them. They moved fluidly and disappeared inside within seconds. From their speed and coordination in the dark, Virgil was pretty certain he knew what they were, and it was just what he and Roman had come looking for. He tried to catch a further glimpse of the figure through the windows but they had all been boarded up.

“What’s the bet it’s a whole nest?” Roman said lowly.

“Well, boarded windows. They’re still young enough to be weak to the sun.” Virgil pointed out. “So our guy’s probably converting new followers and enthralling them while they’re still weak. That’ll be where all the disappearances are coming from, I guess. Another world-leader wannabe.”

Roman looked thoughtful. “Maybe. Either the missing people are already enthralled, or they’re dinner. No way we’ll be able to rescue any of them. We’ve gotta shut this down before they get anyone else.”

“Do we need to call Joan and Talyn?” Virgil asked. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be calling in more hunters, as nice as the duo had seemed when they met up for lunch the other week, and thankfully Roman shook his head.

“They’re already busy tonight. Besides, we’ve got this.” Roman ran a hand through tousled brown curls and grinned. “Least kills buys pizza tomorrow?”

“You’re on.”

  Roman took the left wing while Virgil took the right. It was the best way to tackle newly-established nests – the sire would be resting, protected, in the heart of the building, sending his newly fledged underlings to act as guards on the outskirts. Virgil’s heart went out to the vampire standing guard in front of side door – she had obviously been turned only a few days ago at most. She flinched even at the soft glow of the moon as if it were the sun’s glare, and squinted around at her dark surroundings. Even her night vision must not have fully kicked in yet.

Virgil could remember what it was like to be newly fledged. He’d been scared, confused, hurt and hungry. He didn’t understand what was going on around him. It had taken weeks of hiding and feeding and adjusting to his new body for him to gather his mind enough to finally remember his own name. He’d recovered; eventually.

But Virgil hadn’t been enthralled by an elder vampire.

Which was why he didn’t hesitate to break her neck, as quickly and painlessly as he could before making his way further into the building. He encountered few fledgling on his way. It was a nest in its early stages, after all. Hunters had to make sure to close down any nests before they could be properly established and dig their roots in too deep.

Virgil’s anxiety levels rose the further he explored, knives at the ready. This place was quiet, eerie – it gave him the creeps. More so than the usual creepy vampire hangouts. And that was saying something.

A scrape. Virgil flattened his back against a wall, listening carefully into the quiet of the inner sanctuary. There was a muted rustling and rasp of voices. Virgil slunk towards the entrance.

No time to think, only act. As soon as the room came into focus, the gloomy concrete floors and the vampire hissing to its quivering subject, Virgil lunged.

The elder screeched and its eyes flashed – the fledgling jerked, against their will, into Virgil’s path. Virgil swiped them out of the way and found a pistol aimed at his face.

The elder vampire stared at him, and Virgil stared back. Since when did vampires need guns? This one apparently took no chances. Its face slowly split into a fanged smile as it regarded Virgil. At least Roman wasn’t here yet. They stood alone in a dark room that may have once been an office or a break room. Now it was torn up and water-stained. The air smelled mildewy.

“Nice place you got here.” Virgil drawled. The vampire’s head tipped.

“A hunter. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Virgil’s lip curled. “Yeah, yeah, speeches and all that shit. I get the drill.”

“You’re not going to ask me about myself?”

“I don’t fucking care who you are.”

The vampire shrugged. “That’s fair.” It said, and then it pressed the trigger and shot Virgil in the chest with a deafening crack. There was a sharp impact that hurt like a bitch, and he hissed, clutching at his shirt with sharp nails. It burned, already itching as it began to scab over. The blood dribbled over his hand. It was hot and metallic and the scent of it made Virgil’s fangs burst free with the need to rip tear rend.

The vampire’s eyes widened comically. “You’re-”

Virgil didn’t realize a familiar figure stood frozen in the doorway.

He didn’t realize as he lunged at the gun-toting vampire with a roar; sank his fangs into its neck and tore out its throat; latched onto the hot, life-giving pulse and gulped greedily as he dragged its twitching body to the floor. He wrapped his legs around its convulsing chest and sucked down deep mouthfuls of liquid. Contrary to popular beliefs, vampires could still bleed. They had heartbeats.

But not enough, not fast enough to sate his hunger. Virgil tore through veins and arteries and sank his fangs in once again, feeling the strong throbbing of his prey’s heartbeat nearly push bursts of blood down his throat.

And then a voice that shattered his whole world into pieces.

“Virgil!”

Virgil’s appetite dropped like a stone. He snapped his head up – too little, too late, for the human in the doorway. The human who had been here this whole time. Roman stood white-faced with his sword clutched in one hand, and when Virgil met his horrified gaze Roman lifted it.

“No.” The sound that tore from Virgil’s lips was rough, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. He clapped his hands over his blood-smeared face.

But the damage was done.

Roman stepped forward and Virgil slithered back with a frightened cry. The gleam of the blade filled his vision. He scrambled in reverse until his back hit a wall – pinned, trapped.

And still Roman advanced. Virgil pressed his back against the wall.

“Roman, please – walk away now, don’t come any closer! Roman BACK OFF!”

Step after slow step. Virgil dug his nails into the wall and screamed, “BACK OFF! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Roman didn’t slow.

“Leave me alone! ROMAN! I swear I’ll kill you – I swear I’ll–”

But Virgil couldn’t swear anything. He curled up into a ball and hissed half-heartedly at the hunter who loomed over him, sword in hand. Roman. He couldn’t hurt Roman.

Roman moved, and Virgil closed his eyes and hoped it would be quick.

Seconds passed and the pain did not come, nor the sound of Virgil’s neck being sliced. He peeked out from under his eyelashes, still expecting the blow to come.

Roman’s sword had been roughly, hastily shoved into its sheath. And Roman – Roman had dropped down to his knees with his hands palm-up and empty. Virgil stared at him suspiciously – what was the trick? The ploy? The knife to spear him through the heart?

“Virgil.” Roman rasped. “Virgil, please. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not.”

Not? Virgil tucked himself in tighter. He hadn’t felt his eyes well up but he did feel the hot blood track down his face in a vampire’s imitation of tears.

“Virgil, listen to me. You’re safe. I promise you you’re safe.”

Virgil bit his lip – but he’d forgotten about his unsheathed fangs and now fresh blood welled up, sliding down his chin.

Roman opened his arms. “It’s okay.”

It was probably a ruse – a trick, to get him to drop his guard. What the hell. Virgil would die anyway. He may as well pretend to be loved, just for a little while.

So he tipped forward and into Roman’s grip – allowing the hunter to hold him while Virgil wept into his vampire-blood-splattered jacket. Roman stroked his hair feverishly. He was warm, solid, and the contact made Virgil relax against him almost instantly like a tired cat. Everything might even be worth it for this moment.

“Oh, stormcloud. Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Roman whispered. “I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

Definitely worth it. Virgil took a deep breath and steeled himself for the jab of a blade in his unprotected back. It… didn’t come. Roman was getting slow.

Maybe he wanted to draw this out. Virgil didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Whatever Roman had planned for him it was justified anyway.

He let out a whimper of protest as Roman started pulling away, and was answered by Roman’s arms tightening again.

“We have to leave, okay Virge?” He whispered. “Let’s go home.”

Well, that was morbid. Virgil nodded mutely against Roman’s chest. If that was where he wanted to do it…

  Roman was deathly silent on the way home. Virgil pulled his knees to his chest in the passenger seat and looked out the window for the whole drive. The midnight city was alight – a collage of bright signs and dim alleyways and the stretch of charcoal sky. Occasionally Virgil would catch glimpses of his reflection in the window. His drawn face, the shadows under haunted eyes, bloodstains around his mouth and dripping down his chin. Looking every bit the monster he was.

Virgil tried to ignore that and focus on the view. After all, this was the last time he’d see it.

The drive ended all too soon, Roman pulling into a familiar driveway. The usually cheerful face of home now appeared dark and menacing. Virgil barely waited for the car to stop before he shoved opened his door and strode inside. With his pretense of being human blown, he didn’t need to turn the lights on. He did, for Roman’s benefit.

Virgil looked out the window and hugged himself as Roman’s footsteps followed him inside. Roman pulled off his bloodstained jacket and dropped it on a rack.

“Do you want the shower first?” Roman offered quietly. Jeez, he was really taking this seriously. Virgil shook his head. “Okay then.”

The hunter disappeared into the bathroom. He was being very trusting, assuming Virgil wouldn’t try to escape. Or maybe Roman knew that even if Virgil did run, he would just find him again. Roman always found his prey.

Virgil slumped bonelessly on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

It seemed like only a few minutes later that Roman emerged with wet hair. Virgil glanced up through his fingers, biting his lip. Roman was heading for the fridge.

“Shower’s yours. I’m gonna cook some ravioli, and then we should talk. Things always seem better after a meal, like Mama used to say-”

Virgil yelled, “Why are you doing this?”

Roman froze. Oh shit, Virgil hadn’t meant to say anything. But it was done now.

He stood jerkily from the couch. “I get that you want to do it right, or whatever. I’m a vampire. I get it. But – but now you’re just being cruel.” Virgil dug his fingers into his scalp, eyes prickling with bloody tears. “Why don’t you just get it over with? Do you want to set me on fire or something? Do you want to chop off my head? I don’t care Roman, just do it already!”

Roman looked horrified. “Virgil, what on earth are you talking about?”

“You need help? I’ll help you!” Virgil grabbed out his own dagger with shaking hands and pressed the tip to his chest. It pricked through his shirt and Roman paled. “Just do it already! Put me out of my misery, I don’t want – I don’t want to wait any longer.” His voice cracked. “Why are you making me wait?”

“Virgil.” Virgil winced up through a blur of red tears as Roman stalked forward. Roman grabbed the dagger from his hands and threw it away. It skittered across the floor. Virgil stared at Roman as the hunter framed his face, tears pouring from bright brown eyes. “Virgil, honey, please listen. I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear, Stormcloud. I’m not. You’re my Virge. We can handle this, I promise. Listen – listen!” He grabbed Virgil’s hands as the vampire tried to hide his face. “You’re safe, Virgil, I promise.”

Virgil shook his head and tried to shout, but his voice came out as more of a strangled sob. “I’m a bloodsucker. A parasite. I deserve to die, you know that-”

“No, Virgil, you’re so good. You’re so good. You don’t deserve to die and I’m not gonna kill you. Okay?”

There was no lie in his voice.

Roman was crying, and his eyes were so intense – Virgil couldn’t meet them. He could only nod mutely. Roman squeezed his hands.

“Now why don’t you go have a shower? You’ll feel better after that. And we can eat some food, and sleep, and talk tomorrow. Okay?” Virgil nodded again. “Do you wanna have a sleepover in my room?” Another nod. “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”

Roman kissed Virgil’s forehead before sending him to the bathroom. It was warm and full of steam. Homely in a way that Virgil didn’t deserve. He stood under hot water and scrubbed dry blood from his skin. He felt like he was in a dream.

When Virgil emerged Roman was making trips from the lounge to his room, carting pillows and – was that the fucking microwave? Virgil hesitated. When Roman wobbled though, instinct kicked in and he darted forward to catch the heavy machinery before it could drop.

“Thanks.” Roman wheezed, not flinching like Virgil would have expected. He was acting so… normal. Virgil would have been weirded out if he wasn’t so tired.

“Why the fuck are you taking the microwave?” Virgil asked quietly.

“Uh, because I want to make popcorn and it’s annoying to keep walking back and forth from the kitchen to my room? Duh. Hey, you’ve got that super vampire strength right? Can’t believe I’ve been carrying things for you all this time. Come on, we’re eating popcorn and watching movies and leaving all the knives and shit out here.”

Virgil blinked at the overload of information. “Um.”

“Are you coming or what?”      

Virgil shifted the microwave to his hip and stared at the exasperated hunter, whose eyes were still pink from crying and yet rolling like this was any other day and he hadn’t just discovered his best friend was a fucking vampire. Seriously. Virgil had known Roman was an idiot, but he’d expected the hunter to have some sense of self-preservation.

“I have fangs.” Virgil blurted out. Roman frowned at him.

“Yes. I thought we already covered this? Now get your ass into gear, Big Hiro 6 isn’t going to watch itself.”

…huh. Either Roman or Virgil were stupider than he’d thought, because this was not playing out how he’d expected.

For the sake of his dignity, Virgil chose to believe it was Roman who was lacking in IQ. He shrugged and went to carry the fucking microwave into Roman’s bedroom. His idiot had decided to keep him, and like hell Virgil was gonna throw that away by being moody and dramatic.

He managed to not be moody and dramatic up until Roman cheekily suggested they watch Twilight. At that point Virgil couldn’t be blamed for throwing a pillow at his face.

[tired-college-student-writing]

Here we go Loopty Loo pt 2

Summary: Graduation was supposed to signal the final time they all spent time together at UA, to show they have all grown into the Heros they dreamed of being.

It was supposed to be, but when has anything ever been easy for class 1-A?

pt1

pt2 (HERE)

pt3

___________________________________________

Loop #7

___________________________________________

The Rules had begun in Loop #7 when the class realized that things weren’t always identical to the original timeline.

They realized this by waking up in class on the first day before the Quirk assessment like they had the last six times only to find each and every one of them was the opposite gender.

Aizawa was not proud to say he lost all cool in front of his students as he jabbed the frankly too large globs on his chest swearing obscenely as they jiggled. It did not help that instead of a jumpsuit he was wearing a skintight long-sleeved crop top and fucking tights with high heeled boots.

On the other hand, the students were not doing much better, each looking at each other and screaming, as they seemed to forget common courtesy and smacking each other’s chests.  

Some, like Midoriya, Jiro, Backugo, Ashido, and Todoroki looked similar to their usual appearances, while others like Sato, Iida, and Uraraka looked drastically different to the point that the only reason Aizawa could tell who they were were the mannerisms he was overly familiar with from them.

After a few minutes, he wrapped his head around it enough to slam his hands down on the closest desk and order them to calm down.

“Okay, I get we’re all having an existential crisis,” He snapped, “I get it, this wasn’t what I was expecting either. Clearly, we aren’t just returning to the start of our own timeline unless I’ve always had fucking D cups and no one deemed it important to share with me.”

The first order was to get everyone to their seats so Aizawa could go through the class list, going through the new names he… she knew the students would mess up more than once.

Aoyama Aki

Ashido Mareo

Asui Susumu

Iida Sumiko

Uraraka Kaito

Ojiro Megumi

Kaminari Emiko

Kirishima Etsu

Koda Kaya

Sato Riko

Shoji Miki

Jiro Kazuo

Sero Hiroko

Tokoyami Jakushitsu

Todoroki Suzu

Hagakure Taku

Bakugo Kasumi

Midoriya Kumiko

Shinso Toshiko

Yaoyorozu Kado

Great, she had to learn all their names again too, which reminded her, “My name is Aizawa Saki. My hero name has remained the same. Your other teachers are Yamada Himari, aka Presentation Mica, Ishiyama Kamin, aka Cemetoss, Kayama Naoki, aka Midnight, and Ectoplasm still demands we don’t tell the students her name, so deal with that.”

“All Might is Yagi Yoshiko,” Modriya piped up, “But she still coughs up blood when I call her anything other than All Might so let’s let her relax for a bit.”

Mo- Yaouarozu raised his hand, “Si- Sensei would creating a list of rules and changes that happen from each timeline so that we don’t trip up as much? I imagine this loop will be particularly difficult for obvious reasons.”

“You’re not wrong,” She agreed, rubbing a hand over her eyes, “Would it be possible for you to create a rolling whiteboard? It’ll be easier to hide and keep up for the next three years.”

The creation quirk user seemed more at ease now that he didn’t have to worry about flashing the entire class to create such a large object. It didn’t take long for it to be set up and Aizawa took the offered blue marker.

“Alright,” She breathed, drawing a seven at the top of the board before splitting it down the middle, “Rules to take through loops if we keep going and rules and changes to keep us from getting in trouble in this loop, how does that sound?”

The agreeal rang out as she started listing off things she’s used as rules of thumb since she had been sure they had been looping.

#1 - Only talk to the others that are looping about looping and previous timelines.

#2 - Do your best to make the changes between your consciousness from the original version of yourselves from this timeline seem as natural as possible, we do not need people thinking we’re Toga.

#3 - Reveal all relevant information on the changes to the timeline that you know at the first awakening, or when we’re all together after the first awakening.

#4 - If the stress gets too much talk to us, we’re all going through it together.

She paused from writing, tucking her still long hair from her face with a soft sigh before turning back to the students.

“Can anyone else come up with any other rules right now?”

The silence was all she needed, “Great, we can edit it down the line as things change, but I want you all to remember these rules. They might be the only thing keeping us sane depending on how long we’re stuck in these loops.”

___________________________________________

Loop #10

___________________________________________

He was going to bash their heads in, he swears to god these children were sending him to an early grave. Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka had managed to track down the Hero Killer to try and get him to change his ways wasn’t a huge shocker, what had been a surprise had been that Mina, Tsu, Denki, and Jiro had joined forces with Stain to try and destroy quite a few heroes that were abusing their positions in society to harm others as they had discovered in previous timelines.

The result had been a huge nightmare and a media shit show. How the next two years were going to go now that these eight had to pretend to hate each other was going to make him go grey.

No one commented as their irritated teacher scrawled down a new rule. It seemed fair enough.

#5 - Any major timeline changing decisions are required to be discussed with the entire group present.

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Loop #21

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“Shit,” Mina cried the moment they woke up, “I’m the mole!”

“Oh I get a break then,” Aoyama hummed, “Oh exciting, the League was getting tiresome”

While it was nice to know ahead of time who to keep an eye on, Mina played the double-double agent a bit too well, informing them of everything they could possibly want for the timeline to go seamlessly, all the students could feel the

Aizawa didn’t even bother to get out of his sleeping bag when Iida stood up unprompted in the middle of the test he had given them, mostly for appearances since he knew they could ace it easy at this point, and stomped to the closet where they stashed the whiteboard.

#6 - If you have information that could make the timeline interesting if kept secret (such as being the mole) keep it secret.  

He stood next to the board, as if daring anyone to counter him, but Aizawa nodded.

“As much as peace is nice if I have to go through another timeline that’s this easy I might actually expel all you brats.”

“Does that mean we can be vigilantes?”

“No, I refuse to deal with you during the night if I decided not to see you during the day.”

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Loop #24

___________________________________________

The class just blinked in confusion as the villains fell to their knees in apparent pain. The USJ attack was old hat to them at this point, but the fights had barely started.

Dabi tried to stagger to his feet, hand held out as if to call forth his flames, only for nothing to happen. Around the different zones, the heroes were having similar dilemmas as they faced the seemingly depowered villains.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Midoriya screeched, once the time travelers had made it back to the classroom. They had rounded up all of the villains, confusion evident between the villains, pro heroes, and students on why the villains had suddenly lost access to their powers.

All Might suggested that perhaps All for One had something to do with it since it had appeared to be his quirk but couldn’t come up with a reason his enemy, who he knew from the large scar on his side was that he was, in fact, a villain this time, and not just a kindly father like had happened before.

He received an answer from an unexpected place.

Sero gave a small laugh, “So… fun fact, my great grandfather may or may not be All for One this time, and I may have All for One as a ‘second’ quirk…”

“Fucking hell,” Yagi groaned, face planting on the desk as the class stared at Sero with a combination of awe and fear.

However, the intrigue of their classmate having All for One was short-lived as they realized that the villain mastermind was not going to attack anytime in their next three years as he now had to recruit new henchmen to fight them, and well that took time to cultivate villainous intent that stood a chance against them.

It wasn’t even the end of year 1 and they were already so tired on just… being normal heroes in training. Even Yagi was at the end of his rope, deciding to retire early even if he hadn’t had to use up the last of One for All.

Bakugo glared at Sero as he amended rule six, the rest of the class staring down the sheepish boy.

#6 - If you have information that could make the timeline interesting for an extended period of time if kept secret (such as being the mole) keep it secret.

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Loop #63

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Aizawa coughed harshly trying to clear the dust from his lungs as the rumble shifted around him.

An ambush, it had to be, but… the class had been acting the same as ever. Aoyama had let slip that he wasn’t the mole this timeline, so the hunt for the mole as the attacks changed kept them all on their toes.

Yagi had assured Aizawa he would keep an ear out, telling them he was sure All for One was still out there, even if his wounds weren’t quite as grievous as they had been in the first timeline, causing him to look more like a sleek runner then skeleton true form they were used to seeing him in, though he could still transform into his buff form, holding it for almost the entire school day even after passing on One for All to Izuku.

It was a nice change overall, even if it was nearing the end of the class’s second year without a sighting of the evil bastard. The students had filled the space they usually spent in the longer battles tormenting Endeavor, with Aizawa giving convenient alibis for the students each time as long as they made sure to keep the dorm kitchen stocked with his favorite coffee brand.

But now, on a solo patrol, they struck.

He should have predicted this, but after almost 200 years of doing the same thing with only minor changes over and over again, he was growing sloppy, too comfortable with the norm to remember what it felt like to have pure adrenaline and fear running through his veins.

“Oh darn, you’re still breathing, I thought that would end you for sure,” A familiar voice groaned, causing Aizawa to try and spring to his feet only to find his leg pinned some of the fallen building.

A familiar lithe form sitting on top of the pile, staring into his soul with clear mirth in the oh so wrong looking purple depths.

“Toshinori?”

“Hello, Shouta-kun,” The man hummed, a smile pulling at his lips, a cruel imitation at the normally blinding grin, “Suprised?”

His eyes bulged as his heart lept to his throat. There was no way… All Might…

“What?” The symbol of Peace asked, “You were oh so busy looking for the mole with among the children, the other staff, even growing suspect of your closest friends, but you didn’t even bother letting me be a possibility did you?”

“But you’re All for One’s nemesis,”

The man laughed hopping down to stand over his fallen, “Oh I was, but the man you’re referring to is dead, Shouta-kun. He’s been dead since I fought him six years ago. ”

“You said he was still out there,”

“No, I said All for One was still out there,” Purple eyes blazed as he tapped the rubble, watching it explode, disassembled to the very base level.

“Overhaul…” Aizawa didn’t even try to get up, feeling ice going through his veins, “How…”

“When I faced All for One he became desperate,” Yagi explained with a sigh, as if reminiscing about a pleasant date, “He tried to shove as many quirks into as he could, hoping I’d explode from so much power in my system, but that’s the great thing about One for All, it stockpiles power. He didn’t realize until it was too late that by opening the connection between us, I was able to take his quirk from him. He crumbled into dust once the last of the quirks were left him. The powers, however, refused to join.”

“And you just what?” Aizawa demanded, “Decided to become the villain? What about giving Midoriya One for All?”

The man just laughed, “What’s a villain without a hero trying desperately to stop him? I spent so much time trying to save a society that doesn’t want saving, perhaps Young Midoriya can finally get through to them.”

“Kuruigiri,” He called before Aizawa can answer, and suddenly the pair were pulled through a portal and into a dimly lit cell, the other members of the League of Villians jeering around them. Aizawa felt overwhelmed, heart beating harder then it had in a long time, real fear churning in his gut.

“Nori?”

He felt the other time traveler pause at the name, understanding the silent demand.

They had made a system years ago, Aizawa couldn’t even remember which loop now. If the students ever needed one of their teachers to talk about the Loops, they would call them Shouta-sensei and Toshi-sensei, if they needed to call on each other, they became Nori and Sho.  

“Leave us,” Toshinori barked, and slowly watched the villains dissipate into the dark misty portals.

“Wh-”

Toshinori held up a hand and an ear-piercing ringing passed over them before fading.

“What was that?”

“Siren,” Toshinori hummed, “Until I release it they can’t hear what we say but they can still see us, so keep up that grumpy look of yours.”

His scowl deepened but the panic that had started clawing up his throat began to retreat, “What is going on?”

Toshinori chuckled, “I was under the impression that rule #6 was still in effect.”

“You’ve…” Aizawa couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling passed his lips, “You sly old man… you played us all like a fiddle this time didn’t you?”

“Fiddle?” Toshinori hummed, strutting across the room to a chest just outside the cell, “No, fiddles actually take effort, this was shockingly easy. After all who would ever believe the Symbol of Peace would be the big bad evil~”

Aizawa hummed in agreement, as the hero… villain turned back to him.

“So no, Shouta-kun,” Toshinori continued as he entered the cell, “I didn’t play you like a fiddle, I played you like the cheap kazoo you are,”

“I’m going to kill Denki for teaching you memes,”

“If they find you,” Toshinori chuckled, grabbing his wrists and handcuffing them to the bed.

“Oh, kinky,” Aizawa mumbled, “Haven’t seen those in a few loops.”

“Maybe next time we’ll be hit by a sex pollen quirk again,” Toshinori suggested with an eye roll, “Now hold still while I treat your leg.”

“Isn’t this counterproductive to your whole shtick?”

“Rule #6. What fun would it be if I let you die or stole your quirk?”

“Your buddies won’t question it?” Aizawa hissed as his wound was cleaned out.

“No,” Toshinori hummed but didn’t elaborate, sealing the bandage over the wound, “No stitches needed.”

“Good, your stitching is shit.”

Toshinori just huffed before rising, “I better return to the students, they’ll be oh so devastated to hear you’ve been taken.”

“ ¥ 10,000 Todoroki puts it together first,”

“ ¥10,000 says Young Shinsou catches me,” Yagi counters, not turning around.

“No giving him hints,”

Yagi just smiled as the ringing reappeared, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Shouta-kun.”

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