#why are people in the tags agreeing im frightened

[d8nielaa]

can i request a ponyboy imagine where reader is dally’s sibling and they meet ponyboy for the first time because no one knows dally has any siblings. and they have to hide their relationship because dally is super overprotective. but the gang ends up finding out after pony gets attacked by the socs and reader pushes everyone out of the way to get to him and won’t let anyone near him and that’s how everyone finds out. thank youuu :)

Authors Note: yes ofc anon!! Im writing this super late at night and Im superrr sick so im very sorry for the slow uploads, enjoy!

“I’ll never leave you alone”

Ponyboy Curtis x fem winston!reader

You were Dallas’s younger sister, who just so happened to be Ponyboy’s age. Dallas had kind of hid you for a while, because you were shy. You were the opposite of Dally. Shy, timid, likes to read. So, he hid you away because he didn’t want you to get hurt. So after begging for days and days, he finally agreed to introduce you to the gang. You were obviously nervous. What happens if they didn’t like you? What if they thought this was all a joke?

Dallas reassured you that everything would be fine. So after eating what you could, the two of you took off to the Curtis house. He let you rant on the way there, hoping it would make you comfortable enough to talk. Which, news flash, it didn’t. When you guys arrived to the front porch, you stood back, nervous as ever. These were the people Dallas hung out with everyday. You had to make a good impression.

Dally pulled you along, opening the Curtis brothers front door.

“Your not gonna knock?”

“Why, no need to.” Dallas had replied, a small smirk on his face. Before you could get another word in, Dallas shouted out:

“I brought someone with me!” Frantic footsteps could be heard all throughout the house, and it honestly surprised you. Out from the kitchen came a girl, and guy with overalls, another with a flannel and brown pants, one with a denim jacket, another one with a jean vest, one with a blue shirt with a name tag that read “Sodapop”, and last but not least, a very cute boy who was about your age, with auburn hair and a white shirt with red detailing.

“Who’s the kid?” One of them asked, everyone else becoming either amused or confused.

“She kinda looks like you dal”

“This is my younger sister, say hi”

“….hi”

After asking the questions that they had, the gang had deemed you were okay and started talking to you. You slowly came out of you shell, talking mostly to the girl, who’s name you learned was Ace, and the boy with auburn hair, who’s name you had learned was Ponyboy. Quite the name.

The two of you got to know each other a lot that night, just glad to have someone else who liked the same things as you. Dallas had walked over to the both of you, his overprotective instincts kicking in.

“There better not be any funny business between you two..im serious.”

“Dal-“

———————————————————————

After knowing each other for a year or so, Ponyboy had found you one day and very nervously confessed to you. You calmed him down, before also confessing back to him. You two hugged, held hands, kissed-all that lovey dovey stuff. You loved him, and he loved you, but there was something you both had to discuss.

“What about Dal?” You asked, looking down at your interlocked hands. Ponyboy rubbed your hand with his thumb, trying to soothe your nerves as he spoke.

“We’re gonna have to hide it-I know that’s what you didn’t want, but it’s our only option.”

You sat there for a moment, reluctant to agree. But after a while, you knew it was for the better. So you nodded your head, holding his hand tighter. You leaned in, resting your head on his chest.

You two were so caught up with each other, that you didn’t even hear the footsteps walking up to you guys.

“What’s goin’ on here?!”

You both shot up at Dallas’s voice, Ponyboy looking more frightened than ever. You quickly stood up, not wanting to deal with your brothers shit.

“Nothin’ dal! Don’t even start anythin’ right now.” You said to him, giving him a glare as to say “stop.” After going back and forth for a bit, Dallas finally agreed to drop the subject. You said goodbye to Ponyboy, telling him to head home before something happens to him, before you and Dallas walked off in the direction of Buck Merrill’s.

“Your gonna get pregnant”

“Dal please-“

———————————————————————

A few months after that, the relationship was still hidden under wraps. Because if you had revealed it, nobody would leave you two alone. You were at the Curtis house, talking with Two-Bit and Ace when all of a sudden; a scream came not to far from the house. You all looked at each other, before realizing it was Ponyboy. You all ran out of the house, broken bottles, chains and even switchblade knifes varied amongst the group. You knew it was the Soc’s, coming into the greasers territory just to pick on someone.

You all scared away the Soc’s, before the group surrounded Ponyboy. You tried to catch a glimpse of him, but couldn’t. You desperately needed to see if he was okay. You started pushing past everyone, not really thinking, just acting. You finally made it towards Ponyboy, who was shaking. There was a small cut on his neck, a small trickle of blood going from his neck to the collar of his shirt. You could tell he didn’t really want everyone here, looking at him like he was an animal in a petting zoo. Two-Bit had took a step forward, but immediately took a step back as you yelled at him.

“Get back! All of you get back!” They had never seen you like this before. So protective, so caring for Ponyboy. You grabbed a tissue from your pocket, placing it on the cut and keeping it there as he winced.

“I know-im sorry pony” You grabbed his hand, interlocking his with your own. You comforted him, whispering words of reassurance as everyone just stood there and watched. They were all suprised, who wouldn’t be? They never expected to see you two so comfortable with each other. They wondered how Dallas would react-

As if on queue, Dallas also pushed past everyone, his eyes widening at the sight before him. His sister, his baby, holding hands with Ponyboy. This absolutely infuriated him, but he couldn’t get a word in before Sodapop dragged him away. You silently thanked the boy for that, before turning all your attention on back to Ponyboy.

He had calmed down now, still a little shaky but that was expected. Your hand moved up to gently rub his forearm and bicep, clearly concerned for your boyfriend. He looked at you, his eyes filled with slight fear. He then pulled you closer, hugging you tightly as if you would disappear if he didn’t. You reciprocated the hug, rubbing his back gently as you spoke.

“Shhh, it’s okay pony. It’s okay. I’ll never leave you alone.”

Authors Note: hi my lovesss! I actually had so much fun with this request and hope I did you all justice. I have been tweaking out all day because my sickness got worse, soooo yeah. Hi hope you enjoyed!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[whumperooni]

l-lamb girls??? ahh, thats so heckin cute! uhmm Can we maybe have some more thoughts of cute lil lamb girls being diddled??? im a sucker for soft cute things bein stuffed and corrupted by some big bad villain! i feel like lamb girls would be similiar to bunny girls, but maybe a bit more timid and chaste? and oh god, the adorable lil bleats while being bred- i hbnnnnhh

You absolutely can have some more thoughts!!!!

I’m so happy that you all have taken to sweet lil lambgirls!!!!! I’ve gotten some good requests already and I’m ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ over them

ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ

Let’s do this!!!!!

tags/warnings: dubcon/noncon, breeding kink

“Well, well, well- look at what we have here.”

A squeak leaves the girl and Dabi grins as the cowering thing curls in on herself, as she presses against the dirty wall of the alleyway.

You’re an awfully cute little thing to be skulking around an alleyway late at night. What the hell are you doing out here with your little sundress and cardigan, your fearful eyes and trembling hands, your flicking...ears?

Dabi’s brow raises as he watches the fluffy things twitch. His hands reach out before he even thinks of it and he grabs onto your ears, pinches them between his bony fingers and makes you squeal and squirm.

“What are these, huh? They’re awfully cute, doll. Hey- what the hell are you supposed to be, huh? Some kinda lil bear?”

Under your fear, confusion bubbles up and you whine softly as he shakes the ears, try to back away from him only to make him tug on them tighter.

“N-No, please. I-”

“So what the fuck are ya?” Dabi interrupts, pinching them again and crowding in closer to you, leering down with a grin that makes you quake. “C’mon, sweetheart, I just wanna know.”

He yanks on them and that’s when you let out a bleat- your whole body jerking and little tears wetting your lashes.

Ah, shit- now he knows what you are.

Well, ain’t that fucking cute.

“Aww, a little lamb,” he croons, thumbs rubbing in little circles along your ears. The whimper that you let out doesn’t escape him- nor does the way your eyes screw up and your cheeks flush, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. “Hey, what’re ya doin’ out here, lambchop? Didja get separated from your flock?”

“D- Don’t call me that,” you sniffle out, head trying to turn away from him. He pinches your ears to keep you in place and you whimper again, cower even more as he leans down until his face is right in front of yours, until he can perfectly see those cute tears beading along your lashes and threatening to slip down your cheeks. “Mister, please- I just- I just wanna go home.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” he agrees, voice dripping with faux-sympathy. He starts rubbing along your ears again- little circles with his thumbs that makes you squirm- and Dabi licks his lips when your thighs press together, when you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper. “Aw, babe, I’m just messin’ with ya- no need to be such a crybaby.”

Your pretty little lips tremble and Dabi grins at that little wobble, squeezes your ears gently and runs them through the slits of his fingers. A weak shiver runs through you and Dabi hums appreciatively at the tiny, stuttered bleat that chokes out from your throat, the way you try to shrink away from him when he grabs onto your waist with one hand and goes back to fondling one of your ears with the other.

“Hey, do ya got a tail too? Bet it’s real cute.”

A squeal leaves you as he easily turns you around- you barely try to fight him off, can’t really do anything with those weak squirms and pathetic little jerks of yours. Dabi forces you around and you whimper when he whistles- little hands scrabbling at the rough brick of the wall and a fluffy tail greeting him. He grabs at it immediately and you cry out when he grips it tight- back arching and your ass sticking out toward him, quivering little sobs starting to break from you.

“Hey- I was right; it’s pretty cute, lambchop.”

“Mis- Mister, please! Please let me-”

Dabi lands a smack to your ass and the words die under a whine, your little tail shakes along with your rump. Dabi stifles a groan at the sight and he grinds against your ass, reaches up to fondle your twitching ears. There’s another little bleat that sounds and then a whimper- ears jerking underneath his fingers and your ass rubbing all along his cock as you squirm and try to get away from him.

Oh, no- he’s not about to let a tender little morsel like you get away.

“Hey, calm down- I’m not gonna fuckin’ hurt ya or anything.”

You only give a cute, pathetic little sob in response. It goes straight to his cock and Dabi licks his lips whenever you turn your head back to look at him- eyes bright with tears and cheeks flushed, wet lashes threatening to stick to your cheeks.

“Aw, darlin’,” he croons- mouth stretching with a grin, thumb massaging the fluffy mass of your ear and sending a tremble through you. “C’mon- I’m just playin’ with ya a little. Let me have some fun and I’ll let ya go, okay?”

“F- fun?”

“Yeah,” he tells you- gripping your tail again to mirror the way he plays with your ear. The tiniest bleat slips from your lips when he does and he nearly groans at the noise, presses tighter against your ass when you shiver. “Just a little fun, doll. Just a little fun and I’ll let ya go.”

“P-Promise?” you sniffle- lips wobbling with an upset pout, even more tears glistening and dripping from your lashes.

Aw, ain’t that adorable. You’re just the cutest little dipshit, aren’t you?

“Yeah, babe,” Dabi lies through his teeth- grin stretching wide enough to take up his whole place. “I promise.”

Another sniffle and your head bobs in a nod, your shoulders slump in dejection. Dabi almost laughs at it, but he just smacks your ass instead- makes you jerk and bleat before he pulls away.

If you were smart, you would have tried to run away when he did. But, no, you just cower like the frightened thing you are and rub at your eyes with loose fists.

Dabi grabs onto your wrist before the thought of fleeing enters your dumb little brain and he jerks you toward him, makes you follow after him on wobbly feet as he drags you out of the alley.

“W- what? M- Mister- where are you- I thought-”

“What? You want me to fuck you in the alley? Well, aren’t you eager.”

You squeak and shake your head frantically- eyes so wide and still so bright with tears. Dabi snorts and tugs you toward the hideout, grins whenever you whimper but don’t try to get away with more than a weak little pull of your arm.

“M-Mister, you didn’t say anything about- about-”

“About fucking? Oh, come on, lambchop- what kind of fun did you think I meant?”

“N-no! Please!”

Dabi ignores your pleading and your whines- just like all the people that he drags you past.

You try to grip onto the doorframe when he gets to the hideout, try to stop yourself from being pulled inside. It’s no use, though- he rips you from it with ease and makes you stumble into the hideout and into him. A panicked whimper leaves you and Dabi huffs at it, grips you by the hips and squeezes them so tight it has you wheezing.

“You better be good, sweetheart, or I might not let ya go.”

Fear has your eyes widening, another whimper sounding. You sniffle, head dropping, and Dabi yanks on your tail until you squeal and look back up at him- tears dripping down your flushed cheeks and body curling in on itself.

“Tell me you’ll be good,” he demands- grinning while you cower. “Tell me, little lamb.”

“I- I’ll be good! Mister, pl- please! I’ll be good!”

Yeah, of course you will.

Dabi grabs you by the wrist again and drags you past the bar and up the stairs- ignores whenever Twice pokes his head out of a room and gives him a curious little look. It’s only luck that keeps him from running into Toga and thank god for that- there’s no way he’d be able to keep the little freak from tearing you from him.

Whenever he gets to his room, he just scoops you up and tosses you on the bed. One of those cute little bleats leaves you as you land on the mattress and Dabi snorts whenever you bounce on the bed, whenever you scramble toward the corner of it and curl up, cower and shake like a leaf. He only has to grab you by the ankle and yank you toward him to get the tears flowing again and that’s enough to get him grinning, his cock throbbing. You’re so fucking weak and pathetic. It’s hot, makes him feel powerful as fuck. He likes it. Maybe he won’t let you leave after all. Dabi grabs your other ankle and drags you all the way to the end of the bed, kneels down and hooks your shaking legs over his shoulders. Your feet jerk against his back, kick and stutter against him as he whimpers. The thudding against him is so light and he barks a laugh at your ineffectual squirming, grins as he digs his fingers into your thighs. They’re so soft and he can’t help biting into the tender flesh, can’t help groaning whenever you shudder and whine. Your panties are just a little wet when he buries his face into your crotch and Dabi grins at that, pushes his hands up until he can rip them off, push your dress up over your twitching hips. “Lambchop,” he sneers, “you’re wet. What- do you like this? Like being eaten up by a big bad wolf? Is that why you were sulkin’ around the alley? You little slut.” “N- no! I- I’m not! I don’t- I don’t-” A swipe of his tongue through your folds has your squeaky protest dying, a whimpering whine leaving you. Your hips buck against his face when he flicks his tongue over your clit and Dabi grunts as your tail twitches under his chin, beats against him. Your little cunt is tight when he works a finger inside and your cry is cute- shivering and upset and high pitched. Dabi digs his fingers into your thigh as he forces another finger into your little hole and you sob- cushy insides squeezing around his digits and trying to push him out as you whine and squirm. A bleat leaves you whenever he curls his fingers and, for a second, it seems like the bucking of your hips is less out of fear and trying to get away and more like you’re trying to get him even deeper. Dabi groans at the thought and he dips his head to swirl his tongue along your clit, pumps his fingers and gets your thighs shaking over his shoulders. Your cunt pulses around him again and he laps at the beads of juice that are starting to slip out around his fingers, scratches over your hip to make you whine and jerk from him. “M- Mister, please! That- that hurts!” Yeah, no shit. Dabi lifts his head so he can take in your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, the shallow panting that makes your chest move in stuttering little motions. A whimper leaves you when he leans over you and he grins when your cunt tightens as your legs are forced against your chest, when you squeeze your eyes shut and your fingers curl into the covers. “And does this hurt?” he sneers, thumbing across your clit and curling his fingers again. You whimper and your cheeks flush darker, your pussy throbs around him. “C’mon- does it hurt? Tell me it hurts.” “It- it hurts!” “Liar.” You sob and Dabi’s grin grows as shame washes over you, as you try to curl up and away from him. It’s useless, of course, and Dabi leans closer to you, makes you mewl and bleat whenever his fingers grab onto one of your fluffy ears, rubs tiny circles along it. You bleat, again, and he feels you get more wet, feels your cunt tighten down on his fingers. He knew that would get you going. How fucking cute and pathetic. “Aw, you like that, little lamb?” he taunts. “You’re such a little whore- what kinda slut gets off to this?” “I’m not- I’m not- oh!” Dabi snorts as you moan and he takes a moment to slip a third finger inside of your tight cunt, snarls a little when he feels your cunt start to clamp down on him and flutter. “Did you just fucking come?” He doesn’t get an answer from you- all you do is whine and hide your face in your hands, sob as your shoulders shake. Dabi wrenches his fingers from your drooling cunt and he sticks them in his mouth, sucks off your shameful juices and looks over you with a smirk. He could just eat you up. “Roll over.” You shake your head, whimpering, and Dabi rolls his eyes, grabs onto your sundress and tugs on it until the buttons pop off and he can get an eyeful of your teats. “Well, shit, these are cute.” He doesn’t mean to mumble it, but he doesn’t really care that he does. His tongue runs over his lips and he grabs onto your tits, gives them a squeeze that has you whining and squirming. It doesn’t escape his attention that your ears twitch and it doesn’t escape his attention either that your cheeks flush darker, that your back arches just a little into his touch. You really do like this, don’t you? What a dirty little lamb. Dabi pinches your nipples and gets you gasping, your hands fisting the covers again. You don’t fight him when he flips you over- don’t do much more than whimper and bury your face in the covers with a sniveling whine. Dabi pushes your dress back up and he eyes your ass for a moment- appreciating the soft, unmarked flesh. A hard smack to it has it reddening and he laughs as you cry out, scrabble up the bed as pain shoots through you. Your next cry is even louder and Dabi grins as he drags you back by the the tail, lays another smack on you and gets you shaking. Your tail twitches in his grasp and he squeezes it hard before letting it go, grabs onto your cheeks and spreads you apart so he can get a look at your glistening cunt, your puckered little hole. He thinks about wrecking your ass, but dismisses it- he can always do it later; right now he just wants to feel your snug little cunt swallow his cock. “Aw, babe, you’re so wet for me.” “N- no- I’m not!” Your teary little lie is so cute, pathetic- he fucking loves it. Dabi grins as he takes his cock out, bites into his lip as he strokes over himself. Your tail shakes along with your body and you whimper whenever he rocks against your wet cunt, choke out a whine when he reaches to grab onto your ears again, fondle them. A tiny bleat sounds as he grinds against you and Dabi sneers over how easy it is to make your hips buck against him, how wet his cock gets when it slides through your folds. You’re really just a weak little whore, aren’t you? A dumb little baby that can’t help but submit to the mean, mean man and your cowering prey instincts. His dick slides into you with ease and Dabi grunts as you bleat and squirm underneath him, as your cunt squeezes around him. You’re still so fucking tight, but you’re wet too- soaked and hot, snug and sweet with your bleats and your twitching tail. “Fuck- you like this, don’t ya?” Dabi groans, fucking his cock deeper into you, squeezing your ears and making you bleat even louder. “You like this big cock fillin’ up your little lambcunt, don’t ya?” “N- no! You’re- you’re too big! It’s too much! Mister, please-” “Fuck, yeah- keep callin’ me that. Keep squeezin’ my cock, whore.” A smack to your ass and you’re left whining, clamping down on him even as you stutter out little pleas and protests. Dabi groans as his cock sinks in to the hilt, groans as your gummy and pulsing pussy squeezes around him like its trying to milk him dry. It wants him to fill you up, he knows- it wants him to breed your little lambcunt even if you beg him to pull out, to stop and let you go. Yeah, there’s no way that’s happening. Dabi grunts and he fucks into you- your cunt squelching and his balls slapping against you, a weak whine leaving you whenever he hunches over you and curls his fingers into your hair and grinds your face into the covers. “Fuck, this cunt,” he growls out. “You’re so fucking tight. Goddamn cocksleeve, fuckin’ little slut.” “Mister! Mister, please!” It sounds like you’re mewling now- muffled little whines cut up with bleats and moans, punctuated with squeezes around his cock. He hisses as you start to spasm around his dick, growls whenever your hips arch back against him and he gets even deeper into your snug little cunt. You cry out when he bites into your neck- seize up and then go limp against the bed, tremble with tiny little bleats that only make him fuck into your creaming pussy even harder. “Oh! Oh! Mister!” “Fuck, yeah- keep begging, baby. Tell me how much you like it.” A whimper and a shake of your head, a loud bleat and whine whenever he rains a smack on your ass. “Tell me, you stupid slut. C’mon- I can feel ya gripping me. Already felt you come.” “N- no! No, please-” Dabi grabs onto your tail and yanks it hard, gets you gasping and crying out a reedy keen that has him groaning. He tugs on your tail harder and you sob, shake as your whole body tightens and your nails claw over his sheets. “Tell me.” “I- I like it! I like it! Please stop-” Dabi moans and he lets go of your tail to grab onto your twitching hips, grunts as he fucks into you harder and faster and makes you bleat over and over again. “Gonna breed this lil lambcunt. Gonna- fuck- gonna fill ya up.” “No! Don’t-” Too late. Dabi comes with a groan and he keeps your hips pulled tight against him, doesn’t let you escape as he shoots his seed deep inside of your cunt and humps it into your womb. He can’t hear your sobs as he pants and just grins as you shake underneath him, hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek that makes you whimper and sniffle. The sight of his come dripping from your cunt whenever he slips out is the best damn thing that he’s seen in a long time and Dabi eyes your oozing pussy with a sense of satisfaction, gathers up his sticky white seed with his fingers and stuffs it back inside of you. One last tiny bleat and then you collapse on the bed fully- trembling and crying, flushed and whimpering. You don’t try to get away from him when he crawls over you and you don’t do more than snivel when he forces his lips against yours- your own moving with uncertain little presses that makes him snort whenever he pulls back. “C- Can I go now?” you whine out- voice thick with tears and exhaustion, shame. “M- Mister, please- you said...” “I don’t remember saying shit,” Dabi grunts, reaching over for his cigarettes and grinning whenever your eyes widen in fear. “N- no! You said- please-” Dabi ignores you as he lights up and takes a drag, huffs whenever your lips tremble and you weakly try to squirm out from underneath him. His hand grabbing your jaw has you stilling and a squeeze to it has you squealing- lashes dripping tears again and your body quaking in horror. “Nah, I don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere,” he tells you. “Think I like fuckin’ you too much, lambchop.” “But- but-” “But- but-,” Dabi mocks, leering as you whine and sob. You flinch when he squeezes your jaw again, whimper when he smacks your cheek. “C’mon, don’t be such a crybaby. I know you liked it.” “I didn’t-” “You did,” he huffs. “I felt you come on my cock. I know your little cunt liked being fucked and filled up by me.” Your head drops in shame and Dabi coos as you start to really cry, brushes your tears away with a mocking sweetness that only makes you sob harder. “Make me come again and I might let you go,” he tells you, fingers threading through your hair and gripping onto an ear again, rubbing them until you whimper and a strangled bleat sounds in your throat. “You can do that, can’t ya?” You bite your lip and Dabi knows you’ve resigned yourself to that with the way your shoulders slump, knows that he’s gonna have you creaming along his cock again. You’re so easy and simple and weak- he can string you along until you’re broken, until you’re made into a begging little slut for him. “P- promise?” Dabi’s lips stretch with a grin and he nods, watches as you sniffle and swipe away your tears. “Yeah, babe, I promise.” Another sniffle and then you nod- lips trembling with a pout and face so sulky and cute as you soak in the obvious lie. Fuckin’ idiot. Dabi moves to lean back against the pillows and he watches as you crawl between his legs, watches as your little ears twitch and your tongue peeks out to lick a tentative stripe along his cock. You shudder whenever he curls his fingers into your hair, but you part your lips when he forces you closer to his cock and Dabi grins as he smokes and looks down at you. Yeah, he’s not going to let you go. He’s not going to ever let you go. Dabi hums as you slowly swallow him down and he smirks when you shiver as his fingers rub along your ear, when a muffled bleat sounds along his cock.

[forever-rogue]

HI LOVE, PLS FOR THE AUTUMN PROMPTS #12 WITH BUCKY I’M WHEEZING

AN | This is one of my favorite prompts! You know I love Spooky Szn more than anything!

Warnings | mentions of dying (as a joke); reference to ptsd (in passing); use of pet name (bunny)

Prompt Used | “I paid $50.00 for this haunted house. I better die.”

Masterlist | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I can't believe you managed to convince me to do this," Bucky's face was pulled into a dismissal expression as you beamed at him. You tugged on his arm with excitement as the line moved forward, throwing him a smile almost as sweet as the Halloween candy that had been everywhere for the last two months. He looked over at you, and opened his mouth to say something but stopped to lean down to give you a kiss first, "all I'm saying is that for all the hype this place gets it should be good."

"It will be," you insisted excitedly, "and ugh...it's basically a premium haunted house so...its a little bit more than the average haunted house."

"Premium haunted house?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise as you took his hand and laced your fingers together, "what do you mean?"

"Well, ugh, this is supposed to be really creepy and realistic and actually scare you," you explained sweetly, hoping he wouldn't flip out too much when you revealed how much this place was going to cost, "so you know the saying, you get what you pay for…"

"Oh no," he appeared worried for a moment before being unable to conceal the grin on his face, "alright, out with it. What are you hiding, little bunny?"

"Well, this is the hip, cool haunted house and-"

"How much is it?" you gave him a little smile as he just huffed in bemused exasperation.

"Fifty dollars…"

"Fifty dollars-"

"Each."

"Fifty dollars each?!" for a moment his expression grew worried as you just give him a nervous smile, "you know, back when I was young-"

"I know, I know," you pulled him forward with you, "you walked twenty miles to and from school in old shoes, and you worked for a dollar a week. Well times are different and these days we're paying for premium haunted houses. Besides, I asked you on this date, so it's technically my treat. Just relax and have fun!"

"Fine," he agreed, "you're an odd one, little bunny. But I still love you."

"And just how am I odd?"

"Who enjoys paying money to get scared?"

"A lot of people apparently since haunted houses are a huge commodity!" you huffed and lightly stomped your foot as if to prove your point, "I promise it'll be fun! And if for some reason you're still Mr. Grumpy Boots afterwards, we'll do whatever you want."

"Fine," Bucky was never one to turn down a challenge, "for someone that gets frightened by her own shadow, you sure do love Halloween a lot."

"Halloween is everything baby," your eyes practically lit up at the mention of your favorite holiday, "you know it's the best time of year for so many reasons! Foods, the aesthetic, fall - all of it. You can't out argue me on this one!"

"I'm not even going to try and bother," you were nearing the ticket booth and growing more and more excited by the second. Bucky could practically feel your excitement radiating onto him as you clutched his hand tightly, "I'm glad you're happy. That's all that matters."

"I am happy. You make me so happy," you promised and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "I love you, James. Hey - are you okay with this? Like really, if you don't want to, we can figure something else out."

"I'm okay," he promised, offering you a small smile, "really. I love you too. Now, let's go and get scared."

"Yay! Oh Bucky, you're the best! I love you so much," you almost jumped into his arms when he so easily acquiesced to your request. When it came down to it, you knew he would do just anything for you, "if this totally sucks, you know I'll try and make it up to you."

"All I'm saying is that I'm going to pay Fifty-five dollars for this haunted house. I better die," he looked at you with such a straight face, for a moment you couldn't tell if he was joking or serious; but you both quickly burst into laughter, "come on!"

“Alright - but don’t get mad when your wish comes true and you die!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That wasn’t too bad at all,” you shrugged as you walked out of the haunted house, into the now chilly autumn evening. You stopped for a moment to admire the stars before noticing that Bucky was slowly trailing behind you, no longer at your side. You snorted lightly before crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him, “what? James...did you…did that actually scare you?”

“What?! No,” he insisted with a dramatic scoff as a grin stretched across your features, “that was child’s play at best. The costumes weren’t even that convincing. But I hope you had fun, baby.”

“I did,” you held out your hands towards him, still not convinced that he was telling the truth, “why don’t we-”

“BOO!” the voice behind Bucky was enough to make him jump out of his skin as he yelped and practically sprinted over to you. You almost doubled over in laughter as Bucky shoved you in front of him as a human shield, “you jumped! Actually jumped!”

“Sam!” Bucky groaned at the sight of his best friend wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he walked over to you, his girlfriend Leila at his side, and shaking her head at his childishness. You exchanged a look with her and rolled your eyes at your silly boyfriends, “you’re an asshole.”

“Had to capitalize on the moment,” Sam laughed as Bucky sighed, “man, I can’t believe you didn’t realize we were behind you. What happened to the White Panther - too busy being scared?”

“I was...I was not scared!”

“You were too!”

“Boys,” you quickly interrupted the two of them, “why don’t both of you shut up and we can all go out and get dinner? Then the two of you can be idiots and argue and I can actually spend time with someone with a brain.”

“Hey!” they echoed in unison as you linked arms with Leila and the two of you skipped away to your cars. They would catch up soon enough.

“Love you!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[ayanna-wild]

Devil Don't Go

Word Count: 1679

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, violence, sad fluff, fluff, mentions of drowning, near death experiences

A/N: Request from Wattpad

Summary: This case should have been open and shut, it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

..................................................................................

Your world was spinning, well more accurately you were spinning, in a chair at the LAPD. To be even more accurate Lucifer was spinning you. The case you had agreed to help Chloe with had hit a snag, and every lead you thought you had was coming up a dead end. Which is why you were sitting in a chair, letting your devilish companion lazily twirl you around.

"I still say the manager of the victim's store seemed rather suspicious, are you sure we can't question him again?"

You hung your head back staring at the ceiling, thankful he wasn't spinning you fast enough to make you dizzy.

"He lawyered up, besides he had an alibi."

Lucifer huffed, clearly bored with how slow this case was moving.

"Oh yes, he was with his lover, was it? People lie darling."

You shrugged, placing your feet on the ground to stop yourself from spinning as you turned to look at him. Lucifer smiled when your eyes landed on him, and the corners of your mouth twitched up.

You and Lucifer had grown close since your transfer to the LAPD, and you found yourself helping Chloe on cases she could have solved easily herself. If she noticed she hadn't said a thing, you suspected it was Lucifer who convinced her to ask for your assistance.

This case however, they really did need help on.

"Why do you think they're lying?"

"He barely remembered their name, and his so called significant other, took far to long to recall him." Lucifer reasoned.

You frowned a little, unable to refute his logic, you leaned back in the chair.

"Well...you're right..."

"Of course I am, now put your feet back up, unfortunately this is the most interesting thing I've done today."

Before the two of you could continue your pointless entertainment, Chloe rushed over to her desk, grabbing her car keys. Both you and Lucifer perked up.

"What's got you in such a rush Detective?"

"Ella found us a lead, it might not pan out, but we should still check into it."

You jumped to your feet, grabbing your own keys from Lucifer's hand, who'd been carelessly tossing them back and forth with you earlier.

"I'll follow you."

"Allow me to accompany you." Lucifer beamed.

You raised an eyebrow as you headed for the exit.

"I don't let him press the buttons." Chloe explained.

After the fourth or fifth time of him turning on the siren to frighten unsuspecting civilians you forbade him touching anything as well. He muttered under his breath the rest of the drive.

~

You'd never understood the appeal decrepit buildings had in the criminal world of LA, but here you were.

"Couldn't they ever choose a nice little café, or someplace not run by rats?" You mumbled to yourself, stepping over what you hoped was an oil stain.

Leaky pipes and moldy smells filled the air as you careful walked along the walls, gun ready and senses on high alert. Your suspect, who had in fact turned out to be the manager, had opened fire as soon as the three of you walked through the door. It forced you away from Chloe and Lucifer, who you were now trying to find.

The platform you were walking on creaked behind you, and you whirled around, gun raised. Chloe froze, raising her hands, and you let out a sigh.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head, and you placed your gun back in its holster.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Her question chilled you to the core, and you stared at her in confusion. Your voice caught as you spoke.

"I thought he was with you..."

~

You refused to leave your desk, or even take any breaks as you searched through file after file. Called anyone even remotely related to your suspect. Lucifer had been with Chloe, he'd been vulnerable, he could be hurt, or worse.

You shook your head, that line of thinking wasn't going to do anything but make you panic.

A heavy, frustrated sigh left your lips, and you leaned forward, resting your head in your hands on the desk in front of you. Your eyes strained from hours of reading.

"I found something!"

You whipped your head around so fast it almost hurt your neck. Ella ran in, waving a paper around wildly. You and Chloe quickly crowded her and Ella explained everything.

"Okay, so I called around, you know places he frequents, old jobs things like that. There's an old swim center he used to run, a few workers there say he still comes by after hours to do laps."

"What does this have to do with finding Lucifer?" Chloe asked.

"Well I just off the phone with an employee who works there. Mr. Manager man is there now."

~

You couldn't drive fast enough, flying through red lights and recklessly taking turns. Chloe held onto the dash, shouting out warnings now and then, but she never told you to slow down. She was just as eager as you to find the king of hell.

"Y/N! We need a plan!"

You almost forgot to put the car into park before you got out. Chloe followed after you, calling for you to slow down, but you ignored her. The doors to the pool slammed open when you kicked them, smacking the wall just in time to see the murderous manager shove Lucifer, who was unconscious and tied to a chair, into the pool.

You screamed his name, dropping your gun as you dived into the pool without a second thought. You spotted Chloe running after the suspect just seconds before you hit the water.

The pool was so deep, and the chlorine burned your eyes as you swam towards Lucifer. You didn't know how you were holding your breath this long, but you weren’t really focusing on that. You struggled to untie the ropes around him, but your lungs were beginning to burn.

He's been down there for too long already, you were down there too long, your head growing light.

With no other choice but to surface, you took a large breath before diving under the water again. It wasn't enough time to really catch your breath and your chest tightened, but you finally loosened the ropes. You thanked the adrenaline rushing through your veins that you were able to pull him to the surface and out of the pool.

Violent coughs shook your body as you struggled to breathe again. You were light-headed, but you needed to focus, you had to check on him. Turning your attention to Lucifer you rolled him onto his back checking the injury to his bloody temple, it was sallow nothing to serious, and then you checked his pulse.

Only... there was no pulse.

"No no no...."

You got to your knees, placing your hands in the center of his chest as you began to push fast. You went back and forth between pressing on his chest to blowing breath into his lungs. You weren’t sure how long you kept this up, but you really didn't care to keep track of time right now.

"Come on...Lucifer, please..."

Tears clouded your vision and your arms gave out, you collapsed against his chest, checking his pulse once more, but there was nothing.

"Damn it wake up!" You slammed your fists down on his chest. Your tears ran down your face mixing with the pool water still clinging to your skin, but he didn’t move.

"You promised we'd go out for lunch tomorrow, and you always keep your promises, right?"

You brushed his wet hair from his face as your hands shook.

"So you have to wake up." Your voice broke, and you pressed your forehead against his, crying freely.

"Please don't go."

You almost slammed your head against his when his body suddenly jerked, and he sat up. You jumped back staring at him with wide eyes as he coughed out water from his lungs. He wheezed a moment clutching his chest, before looking around until his eyes landed on you. He gave you a tired smile and a weak chuckle.

"Well that was a wonderfully terrible visit to Hell."

With that joke your worry evaporated, and you fell back against the wall behind you. You ran a hair through your damp hair, and you laughed through your tears.

"You're alive..."

Lucifer looked at you curiously, and he moved closer to you.

"Darling are you alright? Why are you crying?"

He let out a surprised grunt when you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You were dead you idiot, of course I'm crying."

"But I'm not dead now..."

You huffed, shaking your head as you tightened your hold around him.

"You're missing the point." You spoke lightly.

Lucifer carefully held you, frowning a little when he felt your body trembling.

"You're shaking." He pointed out softly.

"Just cold from the water." You lied.

You smiled, nestling closer to him, you needed to feel his heartbeat his breath on your skin. You pulled back to hold his face in your hands, eyeing the cut on his temple.

"You're bleeding a little still..." You muttered.

He grabbed your hand as your fingers ghosted over the wound. He smiled squeezing your hand a little.

"I imagine my situation would be much worse if not for you."

He smiled, and you slowly realized you were sitting in his lap. You cleared your throat, shifting to move off him, and he sent you a wink.

"Anyway, I'm really happy you're okay."

Lucifer's expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Well I couldn't very well stay dead now could I? A promise is a promise."

You looked at him surprised.

"You heard that?"

He chuckled, moving a wet strand of hair away from your eyes.

"It was hard not to, you were practically praying to me."

You rolled your eyes, but you still couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face.

"Just promise you won't go dying on me again."

"I'll try my very best darling." He chuckled.

..................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @aiofheavenandhell @beththedemonhunter

[writingpuddle]

(responding to your tags bc it's interesting and i've been thinking about it a lately) andrew isn't necessarily less violent when medicated be he definitely follows through more when he's sober? and he gets distracted much more easily from being angry when he's medicated. in the first book he smacks neil with the exy racket, but it seems more like an impulse than planned, and then we see him threaten people twice (nicky and kevin) but not follow through, also on impulse, his plan to drug neil, which is carried out semi-sober, and that's about it. (he also threatens to hurt himself but doesn't follow through, impulse as well) after easthaven he pretty much immediately chokes allison and has to be bargained with to stop, punches matt, threatens katelyn, chokes kevin and has to be physically pulled off him before he stops, attempts to physically fight the fbi, nearly punches neil, and breaks rikos arm. idk i wouldn't say he's like, nonviolent on medication by any means but i think it did defang him in the way the court intended it to, for the most part. he does genuinely seem to lose interest in following through in the first part of the books, and he gains that focus back in the latter half. obv this isn't like, an ironclad theory and also it's possbile i'm missing smth bc this is off the top of my head, but i also think that as far as it cosmetically looking like it's making a difference it could just about pass muster for a parole officer who's making sure there haven't been any extra murders yet.

sorry this is super long i just have many thought thank u for ur time

oh my GOD do not apologize for sending me this i am so happy to see all your thoughts and i think its totally fascinating. i am 100% with you on the fact that sober andrew has more follow-through--hitting someone who hit someone else like...yesterday is a very pre-meditated, almost clinical sort of violence. there's no real emotion to it, it's just methodical punishment, and drugged andrew seems like he would respond at least less reliably with violence since the drugs would wash away his immediate emotional reaction by the time he ran into matt again.

so its more a matter of...is clinical violence more violent than impulsive violence? which is why i would want to actually like. collect all the incidents and compare them not just in number but severity. because of the nature of plot, a lot of really insane shit happens in late in the series when andrew is sober, versus many of the triggers for his violence when he's drugged are a lot less serious; nicky making an off-colour joke, kevin being pushy about exy. it's hard to directly compare that to like, someone andrew loves being kidnapped and presumably murdered. i couldnt confidently say if drugged andrew would react with less violence to that situation because drugged andrew never encounters a situation that serious (excepting drake, in which case its a) against himself, who he doesnt value as much as his family b) he's too physically injured to do much other than hold on to aaron).

(actually speculating about how drugged andrew might have responded to baltimore is an interesting puzzle--but then its begs the question of how neil and andrews relationship might have evolved if andrew was still drugged, since i personally hc that andrew isnt comfortable with engaging in sexual activity when he's high)

BASICALLY i could make a case for either side really, because its so ambiguous. i can kind of see how andrews sober, methodical and premeditated violence would be more frightening to people than the emotionally impulsive one-off incidents that happen when he's drugged, but the volatile nature of andrews moods when he's on his medications do not seem super safe either.

i think tho we can agree that andrews medications werent really about his own mental health--they were about controlling his behaviour. whether they worked or not...unclear. whether they were ethical or not? hell no.

ugh. next time i read the books im gonna have to use sticky notes to keep track of all the incidents. im gonna have a goddamn spreadsheet of andrew behaviours.

[thirsthourdemon]

Headcanon when you call them by their cute little nickname in front of their team

Includes: Aone and Kyoutani

Tags: fluff, headcanons,

Aone || Nobu

-Here’s the thing you guys are so discreet and soft that it just looks like friends stuff.

-Dont get me wrong the team loves that the giant finally has someone to accompany him in the train,this was a big issue for a certain time, and they’re just so happy that he was friends outside of them considering how most people get frightened of him.

-Okay so everyone had assumed that you guys were just friends because you guys weren’t too touchy or lovey dovey at all!

-Babies were still shy, okay?! Nways

-You started dating a few months already too! Like 3 months or so but you still both agreed that it was too early

-Behind closed doors however both of you were two adorable little idiots. Wanna ask me why?!

-Mind reading! You both shared the brain cells and though you only contributed 2 brain cells it was enough for you and him to read each other’s minds

-One time on the train you were looking at something on your phone with him and he didn’t even speak! He just...😐

-Though he was like that for some reason everyone in the train heard your giggling! Like you were laughing so damn hard but he...I-

-The people in the train were now very concerned and very scared

-You guys would also be the type to just in general do stuff your way

-tAkiNg tHinGs slOw 😤🌸 As thEy sAy hEreE

-He warmed up to you by calling you by your first name, okay?! 🥺 It was...UNDENIABLY ADORABLE WHEN HE CALLED YOUR FIRST NAME BECAUSE YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D HEAR HIM SAY IT WITH HIS DEEP, BARELY PRESENT, VOICE!

-It wasn’t uncommon to have cute nicknames too! You even started calling him “Nobu” when you guys cuddle or when you feel particularly affectionate that day

-That day was this day

-Your boyfriend hehehehe bOyFrieNd HEHEHEHEHE was getting ready for practice that day and you thought of surprising him

-You waited inside the gym for him and soon enough the door slid open to reveal him

-“Nobu-kun~”

-“Yes, (First name/nickname)?”

-“I made you snacks in case you got hungwy, Nobu-kun~ OwO” you babytalked him forgetting one small detail

-He left the door open

-Everyone in the team was well...shocked

-It may not have seen like a big deal but AONE TALKED?! And HE USED SOMEONE’S NICKNAME OR FIRST NAME?! AND HE WAS CALLED NOBU?!!!!

-Ya’ll got the whole team, as the youngsters say, Shooketh

-He was pretty much teased the whole time after that and those who did dare, futakuchi specifically and kogane kept on calling him “Nobu”

-Though he didnt really mind being called that

-It reminded him of you when you called him nobu. Any memory or thought of you was a memory/thought getting lost in for him too

Kyoutani || Puppy

-Let’s get this straight...You and kyoutani never looked like you would be friends considering how different you were

-Well at least how you looked

-Kyoutani looked intimidating and mad all the time! Though he was like that it was only due to his lack of social skills that he ends up acting like that. He does the tough guy persona well too

-You on the otherhand were a graceful little ohime-sama (Princess character) Truth be told though...you were the only one who could put kyoutani in his place with just a few words. You were his best friend since you both came out of your mother’s wombs. 😌🌸

-Just imagine the look on everyone’s face when you finally enroll to seijoh and you hung out with your best friend. Shooketh, as the hip kids say.

-Everyone would practically blink a few more times just to finally accept the fact that you were talking to kyoutani kentarou side by side and you were enjoying the conversation.

-On rare occasions you would wait for his ass, he’s walking towards the gym for practice too since your houses were so close you figured you’d just walk home together also food.

-“Oi, wanna go to my weird uncle’s ramen shop after practice?” He invites

-“Sure! Are you paying?”

-“HA?! I ALWAYS PAY! Boke!”

-Everyone is now scared because he just shouted at the sweetest girl in school and they’re afraid you’d cry

-Everyone’s minds right then and there...

FUC FUCK FUCK SHE MIGHT CRY! Kyoutani is so mean to her! WHAT THE FUCK-

-What they didnt expect was you flicking the very angry boy’s forehead and laughing

-“Hai Hai~ I’ll pay then HAHAHAHAHA”

-You walk into the gym as he goes and gets changed for practice too

-The whole time there everyone was confused why you were there and why you were talking to him and not oikawa cause like- Why else would a girl be there?

-“5 more minutes! Promise!” He tells growls at you and though he wasnt shouting everyone thought he was mad already

-You yawn and after 20 MINUTES You finally feel your stomach growl as well so you got up and walked over to them

-Everyone who stayed behind for individual practice stopped as soon as you walked into the court as well

-“Kyouken huh? Mad dog? Puppy suits you better” You mumble under your breath until you’re infront of the very sweaty man

-Staring contest too

-The tension was high and everyone, oikawa, was anticipating the next few scenes of this very interesting dynamic

-“Mad dog, huh? Cmon, puppy~ You fucking said 5 minutes~ Now unless you want me to go home and tell your mom where you keep your secret porn stash and those CDs you have taped under your desk you’re going to get ready to leave, you tsundere piece of shit~” You say all this in the sweetest tone of your voice

-My man has never been more irritated yet so afraid of someone other than his mother

-You knew how scary that woman was as well so you just watched him get ready and leave

-Back at the gym though everyone was in utter state of shock

-“Shittykawa, do you know who that was?” Iwaizumi asked the setter who was gulping down on his bottle

-“Isnt she the one who got third place in the exam ranks?” Makki informed

-Everyone is now questioning mostly everything about who you were and what had just happened

Im bad at this Im sorry hahahaha I just like doing this stuff I guess though once I start to get into more characters I’ll do the other underrated characters. Like suna, ojiro, chikara, makki or goshiki HAHAHAHAHAHA I’ll just tag those who I discussed this with

@janellion @anianimol @my-mass-hysteria ???

[freddiesaysalright]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 4

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix, @baltimoresweethearts, @killer-queen-87, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil, @misslolasworld​, @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy the update! The big ball scene!

Warning(s): None :)

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Chapter 4 here we go!!!

“How did I get a fairy godmother?” you wondered. “I didn’t think I had anyone…”

You trailed off, hurt at the idea. True, you had Elsie and Robert, but they couldn’t stand up to Frank. Zelda was in the same boat. And you certainly didn’t have allies in your step sisters. Without your parents, you felt abandoned to Frank’s mercy - or lack thereof. 

“Honey, you have angels watching over you,” she said gently. 

Your brow furrowed. “You mean - my father and mother?”

She nodded. “Of course. They’ve seen what you’re going through, and they sent me to get you to that ball tonight.”

You started to smile, but it faded. You heaved a sigh. 

“What’s the point?” you returned. “What could someone like Gwilym - a prince - ever see in a country girl like me?”

“Plenty, Y/N,” she said. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. Don’t you know that?”

You looked at the ground and shook your head. “No, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m tired...and frightened.”

Fresh tears spilled over. She knelt in front of you and wiped your cheeks with her thumb. Her touch was soft and warm. 

“No more tears, my dear,” she said. “It’s all going to change.”

“How?” you asked. “How am I going to get to the ball? What will I wear? What would I even do once I got there?”

She smirked. “What do you think I’m here for, decoration? Now, grab one of those pumpkins for me.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A pumpkin?”

“Trust me,” she said with a wink.

You didn’t know why, but you felt like you should obey. It seemed crazy that you should have a fairy godmother, but she did say your parents had sent her. Maybe this was the chance you were hoping for.

You picked up the pumpkin and lugged it over to her. She instructed you to set it down several feet away, and then told you to stand behind her. You did so. 

“Now, just watch,” she said. “Just a wave of the wand and the magic words - Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo!”

She slammed her staff on the ground, and what looked like silver glitter emerged from the place of contact. It floated over to the pumpkin and surrounded it. You watched, amazed, as the pumpkin expanded. Larger and larger it grew, and it sprouted four wheels. To your awe, the pumpkin became a glittering golden carriage. You could see the plush red velvet seating inside. 

“Oh!” you gasped. “It’s wonderful!”

“You see the power of a bit of magic?” she replied.

You nodded, still gaping at the carriage. 

“Now, we need horses to pull it,” she said, tapping her chin with her forefinger. “I know! Mice!”

“Mice?” you questioned. “I thought you said horses.”

“I can’t get horses from nothing,” she said. 

She hit the ground with her staff again, and four white mice came scuttling out from the pumpkin patch. She repeated the action, this time with the magic words - Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo! - and the mice were surrounded with the same silver speckles as the pumpkin. They contorted as they floated up in the air. Then with a soft pop they were four magnificent white horses, already harnessed to the carriage. 

“How did you -” you began, but cut yourself off. “Magic, of course.”

“That’s right, dear,” she chirped. “Now, you’d better hurry, or you won’t have much time.”

“Wait, what about -”

“You can thank me later,” she teased, touching your nose with her forefinger. “But you’ve got to go meet the prince.”

You smiled. “Fairy godmother, I do appreciate all this, but -”

“Oh!” she cried, looking you up and down. “Well, you can’t go to a ball in a torn gown!”

You sighed with amusement and shook your head. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” she said. “Give me a twirl, I can’t do it all by myself.”

Your brow furrowed, but you obeyed. She had proven her abilities thus far. You started off slowly, but then you felt warmth surrounding you as the magic swirled about the dress. It climbed up the fabric, leaving behind a gown that was entirely different. It was a glittering silver - much like the magic that created it. The hoop skirt was wide and dramatic - but elegant. Matching gloves appeared on your hands, as well as a delicate diamond necklace. Your hair folded itself into a neat bun atop your head. And on your feet, glass slippers replaced your boots. 

You beamed as you looked at yourself. You looked like a real princess - and you certainly felt like one. You did another twirl, this time out of joy. 

“Fairy godmother, it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her. 

She chuckled softly as she patted your back. Then she pulled away and looked seriously at you.

“Y/N, this magic is very powerful, but there are limits,” she said. “It will only stay in place until midnight, and then will disappear. Everything will be as it was before.”

“Midnight, really?” you gasped, excited. “That’s more than I could have hoped for!”

She cupped your cheek. “You are a gracious young woman, my dear.”

“All if this is more than I could even dream,” you confessed. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replied. “You deserve it. Now, hurry up! You’ve got to get to that ball!”

You grinned at her and rushed to get into your carriage. Then you were off.

***

Gwilym was getting exhausted. He had danced with almost all the women his father had arranged to come, but no one had really sparked his interest. In truth, none of the girls were really appealing to him. He was nearly ready to give up on the evening. 

He took a break from dancing to get himself a drink, and he was talking to Ben a moment before he looked up at the entrance. There, at the top of the stairs, stood the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Her dress shimmered brighter than stars, and her face was one that struck him with familiarity, though he couldn’t place it. She seemed a little unsure of herself as she looked around. He handed Ben his drink and walked right over to her. 

You met Gwilym’s eyes just as he approached you. You smiled a wide, warm smile, and you didn’t know it then, but in that moment, he became yours forever. 

“Hello,” he said gently. 

You bowed your head and offered a curtsey. “How do you do, your highness?”

He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger and nudged you to look at him. You met his gaze.

“My evening just improved tremendously,” he said. “Dance with me?”

“I’d be delighted,” you replied. 

Grinning at each other, he led you out onto the floor. You could feel the whole ballroom’s eyes on you, which made you flushed, but you kept your focus on Gwilym. That wasn’t difficult. 

A lyrical waltz began, and Gwilym took you into his arms. He led you smoothly and gracefully. You were flying more than dancing. Mostly because your head felt like it was far above the ceiling - in the clouds. 

“You seem familiar,” he remarked. “Have we met before?”

You shook your head. That girl he met before - the orphan, the servant - seemed like a different person entirely. 

“I’d have remembered you,” you said. 

“I still feel as if…” he trailed off. 

You shot him a patiently questioning look. He smiled. 

“As if I know you somehow,” he admitted. 

“Maybe it’s crazy,” you said. “But I feel exactly the same way.”

You both laughed together and continued to spin around the floor. You had the rapt attention of everyone at the ball.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you noticed.

“Are they?” Gwilym returned. “I feel like we’re the only ones in the room - in the whole world for that matter.”

You giggled. 

You took no notice of your stepfather and step sisters gawking at you. They didn’t recognize you, but their jealousy was shared by every woman in attendance. 

“Father, who is that girl?” Miranda wondered.

Frank focused on you, but it never occurred to him that his stepdaughter could look so regal. Much less have made it to the palace after his careful work. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve never seen her before.”

“The prince seems to like her,” Eleanor added. 

He frowned. 

Gwilym liked the way you looked while you blushed, but he could feel your discomfort with the amount of people staring. 

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked. 

“A little,” you told him. 

“Not to worry,” he assured you. 

He looked away from you for the first time, and locked eyes with Ben. They shared a meaningful look, and the other prince nodded, grabbed a girl, and made his way out to the floor. Rami followed suit, and soon, there was a crowd like there had been before your arrival. Frank chose a partner as well - the wife of a friend - and decided to try and get a closer look at the mysterious woman who had so captured the prince. 

You glanced over Gwilym’s shoulder and noticed Frank. A biting fear went through you and you came to an abrupt halt. Gwilym looked at you, concerned. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you lied, tearing your eyes away from your stepfather. “I just - I’m feeling a bit dizzy from all the spinning. Could we get some fresh air?”

“Anything you want,” he agreed. 

He offered his arm. You took it, hands shaking a little, and let him lead you into the garden. 

The palace garden was magnificent. Much grander than the little one you had wept in earlier at the estate. Gwilym walked you over to the fountain, and you sat on a bench together. The sound of the music faded, as did your fear. 

“I must say,” Gwilym began. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“Like how?” you questioned. 

“It’s a bit silly,” he said. “My father is eager for me to marry, so he’s been holding balls and all sorts of occasions in the hopes that I meet someone.”

“I see,” you said. “And you’re opposed?”

“Not to marriage,” he said. “But I do want to be in love with a person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“What sort of things might make you fall in love?” you teased. “Beauty?”

“Certainly,” he chuckled. “She must also be kind.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “And perhaps a bit mysterious?”

He nodded. “Naturally. But with a good head on her shoulders. A sensible girl.”

You smiled. “And your devoted servant, no doubt.”

He frowned at that, and your heart skipped a bit, afraid you’d offended him. But he looked at you with such a soft expression, it melted you. 

“I’ve got servants,” he said. “I want a partner. Someone I can really talk to. And share my heart with. I know it hardly makes any sense, but…”

“It makes sense to me,” you assured him. “That sounds like the marriage my parents had. Equals in mind and heart.”

“Yes, exactly!” he agreed. “And I’ve always felt that when I found her, I’d know.”

He looked pointedly at you. You smiled again. Your cheeks were already aching with all the smiling you were doing. 

“I’ve felt the same,” you said. 

He sighed and took your hand. He brought it to his lips and lightly kissed your gloved knuckles. You blushed impossibly deeper. 

“You are truly wonderful,” he said earnestly. “Almost too wonderful to be true.” He looked seriously at you. “You aren’t playing a joke are you?”

“Do you really think I could joke that way?” you returned. 

He smiled and shook his head. He sat closer to cup your cheek in his warm hand. 

“No,” he said, looking deeply into your eyes. “I don’t think you’re capable of even the smallest cruelty. I see in you a gentleness beyond compare.”

You could hardly breathe. 

“I feel your touch,” you said. “And yet, I keep feeling this must be a dream. But even my dreams could not make a night this lovely.” 

“You are the loveliest part of it,” he said. 

“You mustn't flatter me so much, your highness,” you said. “If my head gets any lighter, I fear it will float away!”

“Right along with mine, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “And please, call me Gwilym.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you replied. “I know my place.”

“Your place is in my arms,” he insisted. “Shall we dance again?”

“If we are going to lose our heads, we might as well be dancing,” you joked. 

“We’ll dance our way to the heavens,” he added. “And may we never come down to Earth again.”

“Never,” you agreed dreamily. 

He led you back onto the dance floor inside. The pace picked up and the orchestra was playing a quickstep. Even with the new tempo, you never lost your footing with Gwilym. You also couldn’t stop laughing. It was the most you’d laughed in all your life. 

When another slow waltz came, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned, dreading that it might be Frank, but almost fell over when you saw who it was. The king himself. 

“May I cut in?” he asked. 

Gwilym nodded. “Sure, if it’s alright with the lady.”

“I suppose I’d be very ungrateful to turn away an offer from the host,” you said. 

“Come,” the king said, taking your waist. 

You shot Gwilym one last smile before being swept away. 

“My son seems quite smitten with you,” he said. “He hasn’t danced with anyone else since you arrived.”

“I consider myself lucky to have his attention, your majesty,” you said. 

“I do hope he is behaving himself,” he said, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“He’s a perfect gentleman, I assure you,” you said with a grin. “Perhaps a family trait?”

The king’s face reddened and you stifled a laugh. This was clearly a proud man and would not appreciate being teased. 

“I should hope so,” he said. “Now tell me, where are you from?”

“Not far,” you answered vaguely. “Just beyond town in the country.”

“And who are your parents?” he wondered. “You certainly look the part of nobility, but I can’t say I recognize you from anywhere.”

“Well, I…” you trailed off. You couldn’t tell him you were Frank’s stepdaughter or he might return you to him. 

“Is your family here?” he pressed. “If you’ve gathered my son’s heart, I’d like to meet them.”

“Well, the thing is…” you faded away again, slowing to a stop in the dance. You looked at the king. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

You gathered your skirts and made a break for the door. Gwilym saw you running, and marched over to his father, who appeared completely stricken.

“What did you say to her?” the prince demanded. 

“I asked about her family, that’s all!” the king answered indignantly. “What a high strung girl! I don’t think -”

“No,” Gwilym cut across. “I won’t hear a word against her, Father.”

With that, he took off after you. The king’s mouth fell open. 

“My word these children are dramatic!”

You caught your breath on the balcony that faced the main road. Just as you came to a stop, you felt a hand brush your arm. You flinched away, whirling around to see only Gwilym. You relaxed.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I apologize if my father offended you, but -”

“No, no, he didn’t,” you said. “He just...never mind.”

“Tell me,” Gwilym insisted, putting his hands gently on each of your arms. “What did he say?”

“He asked about my family,” you admitted. “It’s a long story, and I’m afraid the king would never approve of someone like me dancing with his son.”

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” he asked. 

Suddenly, his brow furrowed as he looked at your arm. You quickly realized he had noticed the evidence of Frank’s breakfast outburst the other day. You shrunk back. 

“What happened there?” he wondered. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you told him, adjusting your sleeve to cover the purple bruise. 

“Are you unsafe?” he pressed. “I can -”

“Please!” you cried. “Don’t ask me anymore.”

You couldn’t imagine what Frank would do if you told the royal family about his behavior. Would he make good on his threats and put you out on the street? Or would it be worse?

“I’m sorry,” Gwilym said gently. 

He opened his arms and you sank into them. You nuzzled into his chest, and he rested his cheek atop your head. 

“But please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said. “Being the prince does have its perks.”

You smiled at that. 

“You’re already doing everything,” you said. “Just by holding me like this. Oh, this really has been the most marvelous night.”

“I don’t ever want it to end,” he agreed. 

“Me neither,” you said. 

“Then we won’t let it,” he said. “Stay here with me forever.”

“Gwilym…” you sighed. 

His lips met yours before another word could be spoken. Your eyes fell closed to the contact. Everything about it was tender and soft, adoring and sweet. And in that moment, though he didn’t know it, you became his forever. 

DONG….DONG….DONG!

The clocktower chimed. You opened your eyes and looked up. Both hands of the clock were on twelve. It was midnight. The evening had gotten almost entirely away from you. 

“Oh, no!” you gasped. “Midnight, already?”

“Is that a problem?” Gwilym asked, a bit sore that such a wonderful kiss was cut short. 

“I have to go!” you cried. “I’m so sorry!”

You ran from him, flying down the staircase. 

“Wait!” Gwilym called, following you after recovering from his momentary shock. “Wait, I don’t even know your name! How will I find you?!”

You paid him no mind. As you hurried down the steps, one of your shoes slipped off. You had no time to stop and get it. You continued your escape, just barely making it into your carriage. You clamored in and slammed the door. The horses took off into the darkness. 

Gwilym watched, pained, as you disappeared. He knelt down and picked up the shoe you’d left behind. He was oddly charmed by the fact it was glass. His chest felt like it was open and exposed, a deep wound bleeding from where he already missed you. 

A footman approached, alerted by the commotion. 

“Is everything alright, Prince Gwilym?” he asked. 

“Fetch me my horse,” Gwilym ordered. “I’m going after her.”

The footman nodded and raced off to obey. 

Meanwhile, you were struggling in your carriage. It was shrinking back down into a pumpkin, so while it was moving, you had to kick open the door and tuck and roll out onto the path. You hit the ground hard. Tumbling away, you watched as the magic faded all around you. The carriage was gone, the horses were once again little mice, and your dress was the tattered mess Frank made of you earlier. Only one thing remained. The other slipper. You took it off your foot and held it to your chest. A few tears slid down your cheeks. 

“I’ll dream of this night the rest of my life,” you sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

The magic was over. You told yourself that this was enough. Your life was going to return to the way it was - you, a servant and Gwilym, a prince. To hope for anything else felt like more than you really deserved. But you had this night to remember. The one night where you were a princess. 

You heard the pounding of horse’s hooves coming up the road so you ducked into the trees to hide yourself. Through the branches, you watched Gwilym’s familiar form ride on into the woods. He was really coming after you!

No, you told yourself. He’s going after the girl he thought you were. 

You sighed, shedding a few more tears. Your lips still felt warm from his kiss, your cheek still rosy from the touch of his hand. But that was all you would ever have. He couldn’t love the girl you really were. You loved him, though. And you were certain you always would.

You started the rest of the way home. You would need to hurry to change and be ready for when Frank and the girls came in.

[squeiky]

What if there was a mall based episode of pokemon adventures?

Ps: im on limited juice on what exactly happened after the episode of "practically pikachu" so if anything seemed off, thats why. I can only have so much spoilers.

This is a really REALLY long post, i did my best and added some wholesome satogou moments cause why not. I hope you enjoy ^.^

!!!!!SPOILER WARNING BTW!!!!!!! If that wasn't obvious.

.....(I can't do the read more thing on mobile, so stick with me here.)

So the Professor finds out about some mysterious instances of this shopping district being haunted or constantly full of mischief. So of course he sends Gou and Ash to check it out. Of course Koharu/chloe ends up tagging along with her pokemon, out of curiostiy. Of course something is seemingly following them from behind, and you hear a cute little giggle.

At first, its all nice and fun. They go sight seeing, getting a bit distracted here and there. Gou and koharu do a bit of dress up, and Ash is stuck having to be refferee on who dressed up better. You get some cute satogou moments, and some wholesome koharu and gou rivalry. Before....

The lights start to flicker..

And things go south.

See, before they got to the mall, there was a warning the Professor gave them before the went on their journey. The mall had been abandoned not to long ago, as Pokemon have been infesting it and taking over. Poison types, gost types, what ever dangers you could think of. It used to be very popular, attracting all kinds of mons and trainers from across the globe. Sadly, it had to shut down.

He told them to be careful, and stay on their guard. They did the complete opposite of that, and got distracted.

The light shuts down, and their in complete darkness. Bit of twist, but Koharu brings out a flashlight, then makes a sly remark on how reckless the two are getting. Followed by a slightly agitated gou, though ash doesn't seem to mind. Instead he focuses on another thing.

Wheres.. Pikachu?

Actually... Where is all of their pokemon?

Ash makes a slightly panicked remark about this... Slightly... PanicKEd.. ReSpoNse.. Then everyone starts to freak out. Then the lights suddenly turn on and everywhere around them seems like a battle field. Clothing racks are rolled over, there's some string from some bug pokemon, lying around and some other attack residues from not only their pokemon, but possibly other poison, or dark types. if the situation couldn't get bad enough.

They call out their pokemon names to no evail. The mall is big, even with the 3 of them, they cant possibly cover all the ground. They've only explored basically half of the entire mall.. Or atleast half of what they thought was the entire mall.

Gou gets a bit pessimistic, worrying if they where taken by some baddies like team rocket, or hurt, mabye even kidnapped!! While ash is a bit optimistic, saying they probably got away, or are off fighting them now, and winning!

Koharu though.. Shes not focused on any of that. The patterns of pokemon attack residue.. Shows a winding trail leading off into the bigger part of the mall. Making her even more curious than before..

She turns around to she ash and gou sending out their pokemon from their pokeball, luckily, who ever this was didn't think to take those. Gou explains that the mall is big, and they need as much help as they can get.

So for awhile, we see interactions with their pokemon, looking around, in union or in chaos. Slowly exploring the rest of the mall.

But.. Never once, do we stop seeing all these things happen, in someone elses pov....

We see things from the ground floor, behind clothes, in the ceiling... Anywhere.

Every now and then, we get a faint giggle.. Usually when gou is on screen.

At this point they scaled almost the entire mall. Every now and then finding little things. Nothing to eventful. But no matter what, it all keeps leading then to the same point.

Some random door that says "Antiques" on it, in this freakishly terrifying place. The area is the most rusted, old, and overall creepy place. Inside theres smashed pots and this place has alot of scratch marks and decay. The mall may be abandoned, but not for a very long time. This place looks like it has been there for decades, as if it didn't belong there. You could see a lot of struggle, with some old scratch marks and some strangely.. Fresh ones.

Everyone's tired, and worried, and a bit frightened. Though koharu.. She seems more than excited, it wss her own little adventure. It was nice. Of course, she still worried for her poor yamper.. But she couldn't help but be a bit excited too.

During the whole montage, they'd find some fur from pickachu, yamper or eevee. Sometimes left over pokefood or some old remains of what looks to be pokemon battles. Sometimes they saw some old pokeball, abandoned or even smashed. And even noticed some of the Pokemon that had been watching them through cracks or corners, or under floorboards.

Ash and gou finally catch up to koharu, who has been waiting for them in this creepy antique store. Aimlessly wandering about, searching the place. With the whole gang reunited, they discuss what they found, with koharu piecing it togther.

It seems this antique store looked to be the meeting place for who ever stole their pokemon. They show koharu some of the pokeballs they found lying about, some customized, broken and old. None of them have no strange brandings like "R" on it. Meaning people had their pokemon taken, but not by our common baddies. They found some evidence of pokemon battles, some of the tracks still fresh. Meaning they just left recently, probably during when they got here. That would explain why they kept feeling like they where being followed. They're probably all hiding.

But that doesn't explain why they'd take their pokemon or why it lead them in the antique store of all places. Ash suggests that they should look around here too, find some secret lever or something. Goh agrees, but dismisses the thought that someone would have a secret lever in a antique portion of the mall, then again.. Who has an antique store in a mall??

While they're searching for hidden compartments,

They hear a quick "PIKAA!!" Following a loud bang noise. Sending them all to a panic. Ash locates the sound, and moves one of the shelves. Surprise, Surprise, its a secret compartment. Its pitch black and you can't see a thing. Before ash can jump head first into whatever is happening down there, gou catches him. Followed by koharu, taking out that trusty flashlight, and beaming the light on the creepy old stairs. Seemingly going no where but down.

They quickly and carefully descend the stairs, though their all trying to act brave to lift up on another, you can tell everyone is absolutely terrified.

Then they find a light, like an entrance to some room. The hallway was dim and you could see pipes and some garbage, puddles, e.c.t. Gou runs towards the persumed, but ash catches him. He almost fell into a hole, without Realizing it. Koharu goes infront of gou, with the flashlight beaming infront of her.

Cut to a scene of pikachu. He's charging up a weak electric attack, and looks pretty beaten up. So does the rest of the Pokemon. Though, he is doing his best. The basement is pretty big, but its old. Theres some steel pipes that are broken and bent, scratches and marks everywhere on the wall. Its dark, with only a few lights, struggling to illuminate the room.

You can't tell how many pokemon are there, but there are many glowing eyes all around. There are many different kinds of pokemon. Seemingly coming from all different regions too. They don't seem freindly.

Eevee starts to yell out, angered and fustreated. To their suprising, a quick "umberon~" came rom the darkness.

You can see its shiny yellow rings, glowing in the darkness. It yells back at eevee, hitting the ground over and over with its tiny paws. As if it was trying to prove a point, trying to get eevee to fight like their pikachu did. Taunting them.

The umberon wears some kingly robe it got from a costume part of the mall, presumably the halloween section. Category: medieval.

Yamper could see eevee's eagerness to fight, so he lets out a bark of concern. He's huddled next to pikachu, who still wants to keep going. Determined, to stop them.

Whenever eevee hesitates to attack, umberon lets out a disappointed purr, and attacks them with a weak attack, but it stings either way. It wants a fair fight afterrall.

This was an insult to them. A fellow umberon., using smaller pokemon to rank them up, forcing them to train with them, untill they tire out. All these pokemon henchmons had some kind of scar, or evidence of training. Even the umberon had one. Most of them evolved, seemingly living in the mall, as some are wearing human items like sunglasses, or badazzled items too look cooler.

Then they hear a quick "EEVEE! WHERE'D YOU GO?!" And "PIKACHU! ARE YOU GUYS ALRIGHT?!"

They look back to see its their trainers! And gou, all rushing towards them. Immediately going into the room to protect them. Along with their summoned pokemon charging up their attacks as well.

Seeing this, umberon is pissed. You can see an onslaught of pokemon, who look just as mad. They where crossing their turf, they had to get out.

Umberon curls into the darkness.. Slowly back away from them, in silence.

Untill a tiny, soft. "Umberon" comes out of its mouth and..

They all start to attack, left, right and center. The whole team is surronded. All the pokemon are uncoordinated, but tankish, so they're pretty easy to take down, but leaves you pretty damaged in the long run.

Eventually, they get rid of most of them. Leaving 5 remaining pokemon left. These five being the strongest out of every pokemon and the biggest. Seemingly been in charge for a long time. Basically, its the boss fight.

The pokemon tired them out, and theres not much they can do at this point. Of course they fight, but get taken down, one by one, with ease.

Leading to the grand finale. Everyones on their knees, but still staying strong.

Umberon and its team start to charge this giant attack, thats going blast them into bits and peices.

They charge the attack, for longer and longer and longer. Getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger untill it basically becomes a giant wall. Then they release it. Going full blast at not only the entire team, but the Pokemon behind them that attacked them as well.

The was no where to go.

Pokemon where behind them, and infront.

What do you do then?

Just take it?

Like that?

...

Everyone throws their hand infront of their faces. Away from this giant charge attack, heading towards them in what seems to be slow motion. Some pokemon are running away, others are just watching this happen.

Its a pretty big basement.

Pretty dangerous basement too.

....

Gou looks back for a split second.

And a familiar sound plays out.

A tiny..

little..

giggle.

And then it just stops.

The attack was stuck in place..

...

Then suddenly, behind them in the darkness...

From the entrance of where they came..

Glowing eyes emerge, with a silent.. "Mew!"

And the whole attack backfires onto the 5 pokemon with one, full, swoop.

The place collapses onto them. Knocking 4 pokemon unconscious, except for that..

That..

Umberon.

With the only expression on its face being absolute RAGE.

Everyone starts running out, a bunch of pokemon try to help move the 4 unconscious ones, and umberon runs in the opposite direction, into what might be their secret escape route. They look back, at the commotion.

The 3 little humans and their pokemon are running out, even picking up some of the pokemon, who attacked them, and helping them run away from the collapsing area.

Umberon sees this. But looks away. Muttering a "umber.." Before leaving. This wasn't the last of them.

Everyone safely makes it out of the mall, alive.

Everyone is tired, exhausted and hurt.

They look up to see the many battle scars of all the pokemon, who are just lying around, not knowing what to do anymore without a leader.

Some a bickering and arguing, some are confused and tired, others are just watching from afar.

Eeveee jumps out of koharu's hands, and onto some tall boxes and rocks lying about near he store. They yell out a "EEVEE!!" Which everyone quiets down immediately. They even stiffen up, as if they where trained to do that by the umberon. Which startles eevee and makes them feel uncomfortable.

Ash stands up, looking at his poor pikachu, for a bit. Its smiling, with its eyes closed. Ash gives them a concerned, but soft smile. He tells everyone that they should all go to a pokecenter, and get some rest. The pokemon try to argue, not wanting to go and to wait for their umberon, but they see eevee is following ash, and they end up following along.

Gou runs up to ash and softly pats ash's shoulder, and gives him a soft, but concerned look. Only followed by a smile. Then everyone starts following them to pokemon center.

It cuts to scene, where they show the pokemon center for a sky view. Its night time and everyone is tired. a bunch of the nurses and doctors are taking care of the many pokemon without question.

Ash is sitting there, next to his pikachu, with gou is standing right beside him, and koharu is somewhere off with her pokemon as well. They all have some bandages here and there, on their knees or hands, just watching as nurse joy takes care of pikachu.

She asks what the three of them had done to get not only so many injured pokemon, but get this pikachu in the state its in now.

They explained to the nurse about the whole incident, with this umberon and a giant battle in a basement, and a this abandoned pokemon infested mall. How the umberon acted and all the Pokemon who teamed up agasint them.

Nurse joy recognizes the umberon, to their suprise.

She explains its not the first time shes heard of this umberon. Apparently, its trainer had abandoned it when it was a little eevee. She said that they'd capture pokemon who they saw great potential and power in. One day, the eevee's win streak went away, losing many battles every single day. Thats when they abandoned them, or atleast, thats what they say.

Ash mutters a quick and angered response of why someone would do such a thing.

Nurse joy looks at ash and gou sadly, then returns back to what she was doing. She doesn't know why someone would do that. Though, she tells them she always used to see that same eevee in the pokecenter constantly. For some reason, the pokemon really loved their trainer, to the point of exhaustion. When it got abandoned, it probably took it personally. Who knows though, that umberon is quite the mystery. Some people even tried to catch it seeing how strong it was, but they'd never succeed.

She pauses what shes doing to ask if ash doesn't mind leaving his pikachu here for the night. Its pretty injured, and needs some rest. She wants to be able to take care of it, in case it needs extra care. She says he can see them tomorrow, as it might feel better by then.

He sadly agrees, and they go home for the night.

Here, we get a nice scene, just to calm things doen a bit. The 2 boys put on their cozy pajamas, and get ready to go to bed.

We see koharu in her bedroom, with her pjammas on, petting her yamper who has a cute little "get well soon!!" Sticker, stuck on his forehead, and he has his younger sticking out, as he sleeps. She doing one of those lo-fi girl poses, as she writes in her journal about her day, as a moonlight shines on her, through her window.

We see gou sleeping on the bottom bunk this time, since he's too tired to try to climb to the top. Ash isn't in bed though. He's looking out through the window of the room. With the moonlight coming through. He's tired and exhausted, but still worried for pikachu. Gou notices he's not in bed yet, asking if he's alright. Ash doesn't give a response, he just continues staring.

So gou walks up to him, and ash speaks a bit low. He wonders if pikachu is alright, and the umberon too. The umberon was hurt too, they could've helped it.

Gou looks at him, then out the window. "Sometimes you cant save everyone, and you cant help those that don't want to be helped."

He smiles brightly at ash. "Like catching pokemon!" Ash is confused, but he tries his best to understand. "Sometimes pokemon want to be caught, and some don't. All that matters is that you tried, right?"

Ash looks at gou, and smiles back. Then looks at the window, still smiling "Yeah, you're right.. Do you think pikachu will be okay though?"

Gou softly pats him on the back. He tries his best to comfort ash. "Yeah, i think so."

It goes quiet for a bit. And it zooms out as they both look out at the window.8

With that, it ends here.

[delicrieux]

Hello! May I have a one-shot with Kylo being injured and reader, who is part of the resistance, finds him and takes care of him? Thanks!

idk how this turned out to be 5k words but WHEW i mean if ppl want me to continue it im down so send in sum request of wat u think should happen!! xoxo gossip girl

requests are open! | masterlist | part 2.

Fear. The kind that makes it hard to breathe as if you are kept underwater; the kind that makes your muscles clench and freeze as all senses flow out one by one. Today had been almost too typical — you woke up, you trained, you talked to your comrades and learned battle strategy — and you were certain your evening walk would be just as uneventful. The breeze in your hair was playful; the setting sun provided warm light and set your surroundings in a pleasant, rosy glow. You like the fresh air; you like exploring; you like the freedom that comes with being alone in wilderness. And in turn, it serves as a reminder for why you are fighting in the first place. To preserve this peace, this freedom, that now has been tarnished when you stumble upon a body.

For a heartbeat you think he’s dead — his expression is lifeless and his face, pale as first snow, is bruised, covered in soot and dried blood. Willing your legs to move, you approach cautiously, not breathing, afraid to break the shrill, sudden silence — no birdsong, no wails of wind passing through trees… nothing. Life had, at that moment, stilled completely. But as you draw closer, grass crunching under your feet softly, you intake a breath of both relief and surprise. Dark locks of hair spray on his forehead and obscure the minuscule knit of his brows, his trembling lashes. He’s alive. The thought consumes you and you fall to your knees, skidding beside him, pushing his hair from his face and landing your palm on his forehead.

It’s awfully cold. Chilling. Almost biting at your sensitive flesh, urging you to pull away. It rolls in waves, this sudden cold, sudden sickness, as if it is a virus that spreads and you have caught it with this minimal contact. But you don’t pull away, despite the near overwhelming urge to do so, despite the fear returning with a new blow. Instead you glide your fingers down his jaw and press on his neck, breaking into a small, crooked smile once you feel a slow drum against them. He is alive, but barely. You glance about him, looking around the area. Nothing out the ordinary, no branches broken, no bushes disturbed and no trails left on the grass. How he got here is a mystery that will have to be solved a different time.

You hope he will tell you once he wakes up, if he even wakes up at all.

That, and, his name, too.

Your base is small and tugged away in a dense jungle, the tall trees and heat warding from unwanted visitors — the First Order. The compartments are small; there are barely above a few dozen people here; it serves more as a safe haven for lost wanderers looking for a cause or shelter, or a backup base in case others were destroyed and the rebels had nowhere to go. It is far away enough from war. Everyone here is, to some extent, safe.

You had never been on the front lines. You had never faced a Storm Trooper, had never seen the Force at work — if there even is such a thing, speculations speculations, nothing consistent, merely gossip — and you had never seen a dead body. Perhaps that is why you froze up so terribly at the sight of him. Perhaps that’s why you felt as if a void opened within you, swallowing up the last shred of light, of life, and leaving you hollow.

You should get used to the sight, though. There will be many dead in battle.

He’s the only one occupying a bed in the Medical Wing and he hasn’t woken up for two days now. His vitals are stable — no internal bleeding, no disease detected, nothing out of place as it seemed. But he is lost in deep sleep, constantly dreaming about something that made him tremble and muss and toss and turn, but never wake. It is entirely bizarre how his state is simply there, caused by no injury, no blow, nothing. And the more you take care of him… the more questions you get.

You eat in the cafeteria, a vast enough, pale walled space occupied by few people during lunch time. Next to you sits a blue eyed, blonde haired cherubic woman – she serves as the doctor, the only doctor here. She smiles lightly at you when you catch her gaze. You had always wondered why her name is Vendetta. 

The amount of denizens is small here, so small in fact that the only ones serving under this branch is a rag tag team of scavengers, travelers, nobodies that had abandoned their old lives to fight in this war. Rebels, quite literally, with a cause. Many have taken new names. Vendetta, too, had a name before this, a life, a different purpose. Though her odd choice leads you to believe that what ever had happened to drive her here was painful and severe, deserving justice. In front of you sits a tall, bony, brown haired, brow eyed mechanic with a scar running down half of their face – Q. And beside them, July – you had never seen him smiling, had never heard his voice hold a tender note in it. He is always displeased. Always with a frown.

“Seven.” Vendetta calls you, noting your blank stare, the untouched food in your plate. Seven. You chose this because you were the seventh child in your family, and, subsequently, the seventh person to join the Resistance when this base first opened.

“She’s probably thinking about the stranger.” Q mutters, taking a sip, “His origins are…” They glance about, leaning in slightly, “ A hot topic, after all.”

“We get injured wanderers all the time.” Vendetta waves them off, “As if he’s any different.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss him, V.” July grumbles, his voice low, the sound of crunching gravel. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, observing the three of you with something akin to hostility, “You never know who may be working for the Order.”

“You can’t just assume that.” You pipe up, “He might just be another gambler dropped by the Floating Casino because he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Or he might be a spy.” July stresses, glaring.

“No one knows there is a base here.” You continue, unrelenting, “Half the Resistance doesn’t know it exists, how can someone from the Order?”

“Still, I advice we exercise caution.” Q says calmly, a pleasant smile on their face — if anyone can defuse an argument before it starts, it’s them, “You never know what people are hiding, Seven.”

“Okay,” Vendetta chimes, “I will certainly not disclose this vital information when the man awakes from his comatose state. I shall make sure to confuse and frighten him further by chaining him to his bed.”

“Good.” July says.

“That is not what I had in mind, and you know it.” Q mutters, a tad disappointed, “I was thinking more along the lines of… An interview.”

“Too civil.” July mumbles, “I say we go with Vendetta’s idea.”

“That was not an idea,” She hisses, “it was sarcasm.”

“Fine, interview.” You submit, “Either way, I doubt anyone from the Order would not say they are from there. They are feared. Probably would think he has the upper hand, or something. Plus, our disguise is impeccable. We look like a research facility. Better yet, a shelter if no one wanders up to the main rooms.”

“I also sincerely doubt anyone, Order or not, is so good at lying first thing when they wake up.” Vendetta agrees.

July narrows his eyes at her, “That is an awfully naive observation to make.”

“Really now? It is a known fact that people half-asleep always tell the truth.”

Another hour of this and you feel drained and sore and with a mild headache. As much as their company has helped you, they can be a bit too eager to prove one another wrong. On most occasions you’d enjoy the chatter. Today, however, you feel too distracted to focus on anything. Q makes some good points, July argues, Vendetta and her biting comments pick at your skin. Always the blazing look in her eyes, always a certain gleam of anger hiding within her mellow, sweet tone. You excuse yourself when you finish your meal and they do not keep you from leaving. Perhaps they noticed you being out of it. Perhaps they were too caught up in their new topic – Lo and Chester’s sudden break up. 

It does not take you long to come to the Medical Wing. The door shuts with a silent sweep and your heart drops – the bed is empty. Before you can do much else strong arms wrap around you from behind. With a yelp you feel a hand squeeze your throat and your breath leaves you with a helpless whine, sparks flying in your vision. Your reflexes kick in before you can control them. In a panic, you elbow your attacker in the chest and the grip loosens a bit, enough to allow you to escape and put some distance. Inhaling mouthfuls of air, you turn to the man that had been sleeping since you found him in the wilderness.

You never quite realized how tall he is, or how angry he could be. He’s confused and you see fire in his eyes, a sneer on his face, and he stands unmoving, waiting for you to try something, anything, so that he could grab you and try to kill you again.

You raise your hands, palms up —a fragile, harmless motion to indicate you mean no harm. His guard is still up. He’s heaving and his shoulders are tense, his gaze not once leaving your form, “…Hi,” You wheeze, almost voiceless, “I’m not here to hurt you.” You indicate softly. Cold, again, as if thrown into a bottomless ocean; body heavy, like a stone. You gulp. “Are you alright?” You question gently, afraid to provoke him again. “You must be tired. You’ve been out for a while.”

“Where am I?” His voice is deep and scratchy and it seems to set him off. He trembles from anger, you can almost feel the steady build up of rage in his chest, ”Who are you?”

“I’m Seven.” You introduce, “I found you outside our base. Do you know how you got here?”

He takes a threatening step forward and your arms shoot higher, “I’m not your enemy.” You insist, “You are not a prisoner here. You were dying and I wanted to help you.”

He regards you for a silent moment as if unsure whether to believe you or not. However, you sense that he will not try to hurt you, for now at least. You give him a shaky smile, trying to ease him — you cannot imagine how frightening it is to awake in some room among strangers and not knowing where you are or what had happened. “Do you…know your name?” You continue your questions, your arms slowly falling by your sides. After another pause, he nods curtly, “Good. That’s good.” you step away from his bed, “Please, lie down. You’re still recovering. No shady business, I promise.”

You are a bit surprised that he listens, but you don’t show it. He’s cautious, regarding you as if you were some dangerous animal cornering him, and his walk is sluggish. You can tell it’s hard for him to move, but don’t say anything. You doubt it would do any good. He finally sits down and just stares at you. You try to smile again, “Do you know how you got here? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“How long have I been here for?” He asks instead.

“Two full days in the base.” You say calmly, “But out there?” You vaguely motion with your head to the outside world, “I don’t know.”

Your answer unnerves him. For the first time his frown falls and he stares at you with big eyes and a trembling lip, as if a lost child not knowing what to do. That expression warps suddenly and he looks away, his hands gripping the side of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

“Well, if there is…anything you need…” You start mildly, “You can call upon me. Or Vendetta. She’s the doctor here, so if you feel any pain or sickness, you should tell her. She’s sweet.” You smile, “And she will help. But right now, just try to rest…I’ll…leave you to it.”

You bolt past him to the door but– “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

You turn back to him, shaking your head lightly, “No. But it doesn’t matter. A lot of adventures come through here, lost and injured. You aren’t the first one. Now rest, please.”

He’s volatile, is what you learn upon the first days of his resurrection. His mood can change in a flip of a coin and he goes from placid to enraged in a blink of an eye. Tantrums, yelling — all signatures of a spoiled child not knowing what he has but simply wanting to break it. He’s nobility, or so your peers gossip. You hear snippets of all sorts of things, each more outrageous than the one before. The one that he is a prince kicked out of home for adultery seems to be the most popular one.

And he’s egotistical. He had not been, besides the attempted murder, that hostile and untamed towards you — the choking you told no one about as you concluded he simply felt threatened and scared. Though his other tantrums you are not so quick to chalk up as self-defense. Vendetta, exasperated, one evening told you that she somehow offended him — ”All I said is stop pouting because you need my help!” — and he, with a bruised ego, so high and mighty promptly jumped out of bed. Whatever he was trying to do backfired — perhaps he was trying to leave, or trying to grab something and to hit her with — but he slipped and fell and hit his head into the sharp corner of table. “And I said to him, oh I said: look what you’ve done now! Off to bed, quickly!” Vendetta finished bitterly, stabbing her fork idly into her food, possibly imagining his face there. His nose, much to V’s displeasure, was not broken, but an ugly gash and a dark bruise split his skin in half and he laid in bed sulking for at least a day.

As the week passed, he seemed to favor your company the most. It is not that he smiled and joked and laughed in your presence, and you were not exchanging secrets or hugging or even calling each other friends. He simply seemed to be more mellow around you, possibly because you oddly knew what to say and what to keep silent. It is as if you sensed the subtle shift of his moods; could read his expressions in a way no one could, perhaps no one tried. And you would come and visit him as often as you could when relieved of your duties — you felt responsible for him in a way, and you wondered if you would still feel this weight on your shoulders when he eventually left this place. After all it was you that had found him lying in the grass; it was you that had insisted to help him; and now, it is you that brings him food and tries to provide some comfort in a form of conversation. You don’t pry into his past, don’t even ask for his name, because you know he does not want to give it, and you won’t risk questioning in fear of another explosion of his temper. You talk about inconsequential things: what’s happening around the base, what sort of plants grow around here, what bugs could kill him before he took two steps. He especially enjoys hearing the rumors about him, even if he is too prideful to admit that they amuse him greatly.

“And what if I am?” He questions one evening, something akin to a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a kind hazel color that could be beautiful if not for the persistent angry spark within them that is now, seemingly, vacant, watch you closely.

You frown softly, “Are what?” You question, “A prince?” He nods. You snort, “Well then, your majesty, I shall make sure to inform the others. What will be your first decree?” 

He pretends to think, “No more slacking around.” He says sternly, “This is supposed to be a military base, isn’t it?” He ends on a cheeky note. You gulp. Ah, yes, you might have let it slip that he’s in one of the Resistance’s safe houses, though you did not disclose the coordinates.

“On a mission to make fun illegal, are you?” You ask with a raised brow. 

He frowns, “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Childish, really, though you suppose it is better than arguing with July.

You feel it before you hear it— rain and thunder. The merciless patter on the roof and on your window. In night the sound is almost deafening — a loud roar of an engine, followed by cracks of lightning and flashes in the dark sky. You would have slept through it if not for the pins and needles washing your skin behind the warm sheets thrown on your body. You stir. Thunder roars and a flash of bright white light illuminates your room and seeps through the cracks of your lashes. Cold, again, as if standing in the middle of a storm.

You finally sit up, rubbing your face and then looking around to see if your friends are playing some sort of joke on you. You were almost certain they had dragged you outside and left you to get drenched. But you are alone in your room and you frown and shiver from the biting cold. Groggily you throw the sheets away and leave your bed, not entirely certain where you are going but there is a pull in your gut and half-asleep you follow it. You think you might still be dreaming —the rain on your dry skin feels real, though all dreams feel real until you awake. You leave the dormitories and take the elevator to the first floor. The base is silent, save for the shrill of machinery. Finally, still in your pajamas and almost fully awake, you step past the main entrance and stop.

It’s pouring, a curtain of rain obscuring the confusing contours of trees and leaves and bushes. The darkness does not help. A bleak light pulses to life once you pass the sensor and your surroundings illuminate. Thunder, lighting, more rain. You stand safe and dry under the roof, and he stands at the very edge of it, half soaking, his face kissed and washed by the rain.

You are not sure what to think. He seems lonely standing there surrounded by darkness and water. It’s whispers, or something akin to that, that urge and beseech that he does not want to be alone. You hear them somewhere in the back of your mind. If he noticed you, and he should have with the light suddenly on, he does not show it. You approach him slowly, your footsteps concealed over the heavy drum of rain.

“Not used to it, are you?” You ask, your voice followed by a bolt of thunder. He stirs, head tilting in your direction. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet — there is no hostility in them, no anger, just a distant sadness. You give him a soft smile, “I can tell you don’t see it often. I didn’t, either, at first. I grew up surrounded by deserts and I had not seen a drop of rain for at least eighteen years. But, here… Well, there’s no shortage of it. We have storms at least once a week. You’ll grow sick of it before you leave, trust me.”

He says nothing, still looking at you. The light sniffs out. Both of you stand unmoving.

“Why are you here?” He asks, a note of genuine confusion slipping past his calm tone.

“I… don’t know.” You admit. A frown pulls on your brows and you bite your lower lip, staring into the heavy curtain of rain, “I…I really don’t know.” You turn to him, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, savoring the silence. Then, “I got bored laying in bed.” Somehow you feel that anxiety has more to do with his sudden nightly venture, rather than actual boredom. Though, you suppose it is quite tedious doing nothing all day. You imagine he is active, judging by his built. He has a strong character and he knows what he wants (most of the time), or rather has a distinct sense of what he doesn’t want. You imagine he’d be a good commander, or leader, with his deep voice and unrelenting stare, if only he wasn’t so sensitive. He’s too unpredictable. Too uncontrollable. His emotions get the better of him too quickly for him to be unbiased. For that reason alone you deem him unfit to be a spy, or a soldier, or a figure of military power. He’d burn all he would build if that were the case. No, him being of noble birth and being stranded here as some sort of twisted punishment sounds believable enough.

“What are you thinking?” He questions, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hum, ponder whether you should be honest with him or not. “Don’t lie to me.” He says suddenly and you jolt, heart drumming painfully in your chest. For a frightening moment you figured he could read your mind. Then again, you have been spending a lot of time together. He must have noticed how gentle you are with him, how carefully you pick your words. His signature frown is back, you see it for a second when lightning strikes.

“I was thinking about your life.” You admit, “Your work. Whether you really are a royal as most of my crew mates seem to think.”

Flash. You see half a smile blooming on his lips.

“But I know you won’t tell me. Don’t worry, I get it. Ladies love a mystery.”

“What?”

It’s your turn to grin, “Oh, please, it’s almost all I hear about. Seven brought a brooding stranger with a secret past into the base. Lo…Michel… Two of your rapid admirers. I already told you that your arrival has sparked many speculations.”

“I…I haven’t…” He sounds uncertain, flustered almost, as if embarrassed, but there is no way he is, you refuse to believe it. He stumbles upon his words and lastly says nothing. You snicker silently. Another flash of lightning and you see the same confused, puppy-like look on his face you have had the pleasure of seeing once or twice. He does not shield it this time, this moment of vulnerability. He probably doesn’t see the point because darkness obscures everything again.

You extend your hand to him as a silent offering. How many things have you offered him now? Life, health, your company. He regards it, ponders a bit, lastly gently clasps his hand over yours. You jerk. Electricity courses through you and your eyes go wide, tingles rushing all over your body. Lightning strikes. You see wonder on his face, a mimic of your own surprised expression.

“Come on,” You stutter, tugging him, “you’ll catch a cold.” He follows after you. The light blinks on. You don’t know what is happening. Couldn’t have been the thunder, the feeling is not as intense. It felt more like a build up of energy; like you accidentally touched a circuit and it zapped you.

Impossible, you hear something alike his voice but not quite — it’s quiet, distant, muddy.

“Hm?”

“What?”

Once inside, the door sweeps shut behind you, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” He sounds a bit ticked now, and you decide to drop it.

“Oh,” You mutter, “must’ve imagined it, then.”

His hand is cold in yours and you squeeze it just a bit, hoping he won’t notice and hoping that you will warm it. When you reach the Medical Wing, you tilt your head and say, “Wait here. I’ll get you dry clothes from the storage.”

But as you turn to leave he doesn’t let go, though doesn’t say anything either. He’s choked up — either he doesn’t know how to say it or doesn’t want to say it at all. He doesn’t want to be alone. Those whispers come again, ringing in your ears so quietly you aren’t sure they’re even there. You give him a soft smile, catching his gaze, “Okay, we can go together. You’ll probably stay here for at least another week, so, it’s best you know where the storage is anyway.” There’s no rush in your words, no annoyance, just simple acceptance. It eases him, relieves him of saying and admitting things he’s not willing to bring to light.

The walk is quiet and you still hold hands. His is much bigger than yours, rough, though not unpleasant. They are hands of a man that uses them often — for better, or for worse — and a twinge in your heart, a sudden thud of uncertainty, informs you that your previous speculations might have not been correct at all. His hand doesn’t feel like that of a prince (not that you would know what that would feel like), no, it feels like a hand of a soldier. But that inching of something amiss is swept away by warmth, silent happiness, a certain deliriousness that starts blooming within you and spreading all around. You feel him, somehow; feel a connection. You can’t put it into words exactly, you doubt you could ever explain it to anyone. It’s fragile. And beautiful. And maddening that such a devout emotion is sprung by something as innocent as holding hands

You wonder if he feels it. You somehow know he does.

The storage room is not big. Your hand slips from his as he chooses to stand by the doorway and you rummage to get his things. You feel braver. Perhaps it’s the tiredness that leaves you so open and bold, but searching you can’t help but ask, “So tell me…” You start, handing him some towels, “What were you actually doing? Besides being melodramatic.” You add, your lips quirking upwards.

He regards you with lively eyes and you see a grin lift his cheeks. He’s smiling, actually smiling, and you know this action is precious and rare and you can’t help but beam at him in return, “You think I was being melodramatic?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a breathless bell-like “Yes” falling from your lips as you fetch him dry clothes from the upper shelf, “All you needed was a cape to swing around.”

His expression abruptly falls and the temperature drops with it.

“Right, no cape.” You mumble, a tad disappointed, handing him his clothes.

As you make your way back, you can’t help but saying, “I just thought it would suit you, is all.”

“What else do you think would suit me?”

You raise a brow, trying to keep up with his drastic shift in moods: again, hes smiling, then he’s pensive, now he seems lighthearted, genuinely curious. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You conclude.

He shrugs, “I’m just trying to figure out what you think of me.”

“And why are you curious?”

“Now you are the one asking a lot of questions.” He points out. You snort.

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

This again, followed by quiet chuckles. You don’t turn to the Medical Wing now, instead stopping by the elevator and pressing the red button. The doors slide open. You glance at him.

“So…” You mumble, “This is not how I imagined my night going, but…” You aren’t quite sure how to finish, how to vocalize the strange swirl of emotions in your chest, “Well, goodnight.”

You step into the elevator, going to push the button—“Ben.” He says suddenly, making you flinch and turn to him. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at the floor, “My name. It’s Ben.”

Again, that same energy, that same shock you felt when you first touched his hand ignites your body with something closely akin to happiness. Trust. Bond. He trusts you. The connection you felt was not an exaggeration. He would not have given you his name otherwise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” You say softly, fighting a smile that’s trying to rise on your face, “Sweet dreams.”

“…Goodnight, Seven.”

As the elevator doors shut, you think you hear him say “Thank you”, but that might have just been your imagination.

.

hope you liked it! xxx

.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 17

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 17: Amelia turns to faith for help, Danny Owens gets his nickname in the trenches

            Max found Polly in the betting shop one morning. “Auntie Pol, mummy’s gotten sick again.”

            “It’s okay, love. It’s natural.” Polly assured the little boy. “Come sit with me, I’m sure she’ll be down in a moment.”

            “’Cause of the baby?” He asked, climbing up onto Polly’s lap as she worked in her office.

            “Yes, darling. But she’ll be alright.”

            They had told Max about the baby a little while after they got Tommy’s letter back. Though it was bittersweet, Tommy remarked that he was happy and hoped that he would be home soon. Though he didn’t give false hope about being there in time for the birth. At that point in Amelia’s pregnancy, everyone had given up hope on that happening. Especially as more news about the war hit the homefront. And more men were starting to come back.

            It was horrifying. Men burned, deformed, missing limbs. Their stories started to circulate around Birmingham, the things they’d seen. The things they’d done, what others had done. The horrors they’d witnessed. Knowing the Shelby boys were in the middle of all of that, made Amelia sick to her stomach. She began to go to church with Polly every week. But it never seemed to be enough, so she started to go multiple times a week, sometimes every morning. Even when there was no service, she would go and sit in the empty church and pray.

            She was never particularly religious. Her parents seemed indifferent to the church, as they were more focused on succeeding in life. They never saw prayer or submission to God as a way to move up in the world.

            Amelia felt almost guilty that she was trying to use religion. Trying to comfort herself with prayers to a God she never really believed in. But at that point, she felt so helpless that she needed to do something.

            The priest of the church began to recognize her as she went to church more often. He offered to sit with her for company.

            At first, Amelia just agreed to let him sit with her. Then, she began to tell him about her fears and her doubts.

            Telling a man of the cloth about her lack of faith was a bit funny to her. But Father Carr didn’t seem to mind.   

            “Sometimes I think that it’s all just a cruel joke,” Amelia admitted one day. Max was with Martha and the betting shop was quiet, so she took the free time to visit the church. “To take Tommy away from me while I’m pregnant.”

            “Some things are hard to explain. We ask why God would allow for war to happen. We ask why he allows hardship in our lives. It is beyond our knowledge. Sometimes, religion doesn’t have all the answers like some people think.”

            Amelia looked up at the stained-glass windows that allowed some of the dim light to come in. The particles of light mixed with the hazy smoke from the candles lit at the altar. “I just want him to come home to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Danny Owens was the first in the Small Heath group to get seriously injured. While out of the tunnels, in one of the trenches, he was hit by a piece of an artillery shell.

            “For fuck’s sake, if you’re gonna get injured, don’t get hit in the neck,” Arthur said as he held a shirt to Danny’s wound right at the base of his neck.

            “It just grazed me,” Danny replied, trying his best to stay calm and breathe.

            “It’ll be okay.” John kept him propped up so he wouldn’t bleed to death.

            They all learned early on that no one liked tunnelers. They were seen as a danger if they were nearby. So, no one liked to see them in the trenches. That meant they had to take care of themselves and each other.

            “Hold ‘im still,” Jeremiah commanded as he examined the wound, dowsing it in alcohol.

            Danny let out a scream through his gritted teeth as he fought John and Arthur’s hold.

            “No more getting hit with whizz-bangs, Danny,” Tommy commanded, holding Danny’s feet down so he didn’t kick anyone.

            “Yeah, or else we’ll start calling ya that.” John grinned.

            The men chuckled, even getting a bit of a smile from Danny. “Alright.”  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

            It became clear after the first trimester, that this pregnancy would not be as easy as Max’s had been. Amelia began to have spells of dizziness and nausea that could last for days. Polly said it was because of stress, so she tried her best to keep the woman calm and at ease. But there was nothing she could do about the boys still being over in France.

            Everyone was frightened, even Amelia although she wouldn’t admit it. She felt afraid that she was failing her second child before they were even born.

            Max was starting to pick up on the anxiety around his mother and became very clingy to her. He would wail and cry if she was even in the next room. She couldn’t leave him for more than half an hour before he would panic. He began to sleep in her bed, terrified she would disappear in the middle of the night.

            “He doesn’t want you to go anywhere.” Polly surmised one afternoon when Amelia could finally get the young boy to go down for a nap. “He remembers Tommy leaving so he doesn’t want you to leave either.”

            Amelia felt so helpless. She couldn’t even comfort her own child because the world was in such chaos.

            Polly had to stop her from reading the news or listening to the radio. She wrote to Tommy telling him to keep his letters to his wife light. She said Amelia couldn’t handle any bad news.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

            On Max’s sixth birthday, Amelia tried her best to keep everything together. She threw together a party. Polly closed the shop for the day and all their friends and family gathered. Well, the friends and family that were still there and not serving overseas.

            Amelia bought toys for Max, some she signed ‘daddy’, just so her son felt like Tommy was near. He had already sent a letter wishing his son a happy birthday and wishing he could be there to celebrate. Max seemed sad his father couldn’t come to attend the party, but it wasn’t any different to any ordinary day. It had been over a year since the Shelby boys had left. Next March would mark two years.

            On the morning of the party, Amelia found Max looking at a picture of Tommy in his uniform.

            “You alright, love?” She asked softly. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

            “Yeah.” He replied quietly, his mind off wandering.

            “What are you doing with daddy’s picture?” She wondered.

            “Dunno. Just looking.” He shrugged, not looking away. “Don’t wanna forget what he looks like.”

            Amelia couldn’t shake that feeling of heartache the rest of the day. Even during the festivities and among familiar faces. She felt utterly alone.

            After Max had opened all his gifts, everyone was sitting in the parlor enjoying each other’s company. Amelia felt distant, standing near the couch, half-listening to the conversations around her.

            Then, she picked up on a conversation Charlie was having with one of the Strong men who had come to celebrate with them.

            “Yeah, right on Farringdon. Those fuckers.” Charlie muttered. “Twenty-two people dead. Only a matter of time they set their sights on Birmingham.”

            “For fuck’s sake.” The other man shook his head. “Thought this was a war among countries, not a war on the innocents. They wanna bomb each other, go ahead, but they can’t be fucking bombing regular people like us.”

            Without having much access to the news under Polly’s advice, Amelia hadn’t heard of the bombings or attempted bombings on British soil. Suddenly, shock and panic overtook her entire body. It felt like her heart stopped completely and her vision went black.

            Luckily, Charlie was able to catch the pregnant woman before she hit her head on the coffee table. The party ceased the fun and immediately rushed to Amelia’s aid. Polly shoved to the front and checked on her.

            “Call a doctor!” She shouted when she saw Amelia’s pale face.

            Max began to cry for his mum as Ada comforted her nephew best she could.

            Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[beanst0ck]

‘ They aren't a demon slayer but still travel with Zenitsu even though it's dangerous and Tanjirou has told them that but they don't listen, and since Zenitsu is scared all the time why not a situation with a demon where the reader is terrified and he realizes he has to be serious and help/protect them ‘ - @katthestupidwizard​

Zenitsu? Being Badass? Only when he’s asleep but thank you for requesting Iza!! Since you refered to the reader as they/them I made it a gender neutral! reader

Protect You

Pairing: Zenitsu x GN! Reader

Unedited

Word count: 1539

" (Y/NNNNNNN)!! "

Suddenly a body pressed itself against you and you felt arms wrap around your body, almost knocking you over from the unexpected weight. You clenched your weapon in your hands, trembling in fear at the demon in front of you. " Zenitsu! Please let me go! You need to kill that demon! " You tried to shake him off of you, but he tightened his hold on you.

He shook his head, " NO! CANT YOU SEE I CANT KILL THAT THING?! IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH! “

Tanjiro sighed, pulling out his black nichirin blade. This was a low level demon, Tanjiro could tell. The demon hasn't eaten many humans and is relying on on its poor agility to avoid the slayer's attacks. One more strike... Tanjiro ran towards the demon, gripping his sword tightly in his right hand. " Breath of Water first form, Water Surface Slash! "

He quickly swung at the demon, not giving him a chance to dodge. The demon's head flew over Tanjiro, heading straight for you. You shrieked and ducked as the disintegrating head barely missed you, hitting Zenitsu straight in the face. He let go of you and backed away, " AHHHHHH! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF! "

You sighed as Zenitsu fell to the floor while holding his face and screaming. Tanjiro placed a hand on your shoulder, " Are you alright (Y/n)? "

You nodded, " Yea, thanks for asking- "

" HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY (Y/N)! " Zenitsu jumped up and snatched you into his arms, away from Tanjiro, " YOU WONT TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME! "

Tanjiro held his hands up in defense, " I wasn't trying to, Zenitsu.. "

He huffed and pulled you closer to him, glaring at Tanjiro for placing his hand on you. You patted his back at a rapid pace, " C-Can't breathe!- "

" Huh? " Zenitsu looked down at you before loosening his grip on you, " (Y/n)! Don't leave me for Tanjiro! "

You let out a nervous laugh, " Don't worry, I won't.. "

Zenitsu separated himself from you when Tanjiro's crow began to yell out directions to their next mission. Apparently a town a few minutes south from your current location has a situation with a wild bear. At night it sneaks into people's houses and devours its victims, leaving nothing behind but a bloody mess. You shivered hearing the description of the mission.

You have nothing to defend yourself but a hardwood stick. You would've become a demon slayer just like your friends, but you aren't able to use any breath styles. Usually, when Zenitsu was crying about how he can't defeat a demon, Tanjiro would step in and save you. He often questioned why you tagged along but you would always respond with the same thing.

" Zenitsu protected me once and for that, I owe him my life. "

Of course when you told Zenitsu this he thought you meant you'd marry him- to which you quickly said no. But you did agree to follow him along his journey and help him in anyway you could.

The three of you begin to walk towards the town and you arrive just as the sun is setting. " I think it would be best if we don't walk too far from one another since we don't know the layout of the town yet. " Tanjiro suggested and you nodded in agreement.

" I think I'm going to take a look over there. " You pointed towards a house that was near a patch of trees.

" Alright, I think I'll takeWas at the house that was recently attacked since it's only a couple of blocks away. Please be safe, ok (Y/n)? " Tanjiro glanced at you worriedly and you gave him a thumbs up, " I will! "

" HUH?! What about me?! You guys can't leave me here alone! " Zenitsu cried out.

" You should search for the demon too Zenitsu. Maybe you'll find him? " You looked back at Zenitsu to see that he was already panicking.

You sigh, " Fine, you can come with me."

Grabbing Zenitsu's wrist you gently pull him towards your destination, him sniffling the whole way. Once you arrive at the house you notice that the doors are wide open. Taking a peak inside you see that the house is empty, the few furniture pieces that remain inside seemed to have been scratched and tainted with blood. You took a step inside, noticing a certain area on the wooden floor that seemed to be stained worse than the rest of the area." Ah, I guess this was one of the houses that- "

" AHHHH! We need to get out of here! T-This was the house that was!- "

You jumped over and placed your hands over his mouth, instantly shutting him up. " Shh! What if the demon is nearby? " you whispered, " we need to stay ca- "

" Ahhh, I smell dinner~ "

You and Zenitsu immediately freeze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. It was so smooth yet it carried a sharp edge to it at the same time. A hand could be seen gripping onto the edge of the window and slowly a body perched itself on the ledge.

" Oh? Two full course meals? This must be my special day!~ " The demon stuck his thin tongue out that was split in the middle.

The demon's sclera were a light green while the pupils were sharp and thin, like a snake's eyes. His pale skin stood out from the dark green raggedy clothing he wore. He smirked once he noticed the two of you tremble with fear. He stuck his tongue out again, practically smelling the fear the two of you emanated.

He hopped down from the window ledge and onto the wood floor with a small thud. You clutched onto Zenitsu's yellow and orange gradient haori in fear, " Z-Zenitsu... " you muttered out softly, tears beginning to gather at the corner of your eyes.

You felt him wrap his arms around your body tightly before he went limp. Looking up you see his head tilted back, his eyes are closed and you could practically see his soul leave his body. You gulp, " Z-Zenitsu... Zenitsu! " you cried in a shaky voice, " don't do this to me Zenitsu! Not now! "

You shake his body, trying to get him to come back to consciousness. " Oh no, seems that my dinner was too frightened by my presence... No matter, you'll make an excellent appetizer.~ " he smirked and began walking over to you.

Grabbing your stick you take a defensive stance in front of Zenitsu. He saved you once, so maybe today was the day you'd repay him for his kindness. The demon stopped in his tracks and began cackling, " You think you can actually defeat me? A lowly human such as yourself? " He held his hand up and diagonally sliced the air.

You held your stick in front of you, bracing for his attack but nothing came. Suddenly, your stick snapped in half. The cut was clean and straight down the middle. You slowly backed away in fear, tripping over Zenitsu's leg. No... you gripped the two pieces of wood in your hands, I have to protect Zenitsu!

You quickly stand, noticing the demon was preparing for another attack. Just as the demon sends another attack towards you a flash of yellow blocks your vision. You look behind you and see that Zenitsu was no longer on the floor, but instead now he was right in front of you. Even though his back was facing you you could tell something was different about him. He seemed less, afraid. His hand reached over to draw his nichirin blade from its scabbard. " Thunder Breathing, first form.. "

He rushed towards the demon, who took a step back from the sudden attack. " Thunderclap and Flash! " he brought out his sword and in an instant the demon's head was rolling on the floor.

Zenitsu places his sword back and opened his eyes. He looked around the room, seeing you tremble in the corner out of fear and the decapitated demon. He let out a scream and jumped away from the demon's head. Seeing Zenitsu revert back to his original self made even more tears swell up in your eyes. You stood up and ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He stumbled back, not expecting your embrace. " Zenitsu! " you cried and hugged him even tighter, " you did it! Thank you! "

Slowly you two fell to the floor. He had no idea what were talking about but hugged you back, enjoying your warm embrace. You continued to to cry in his arms, apologizing for not being able to protect him properly. All he could do was awkwardly rub circles on your back in a soothing manner. After a few minutes you let go of him and rubbed your eyes, " I'm sorry, I guess I owe you double now, huh? "

He blinked repeatedly after hearing your question. Zenitsu eagerly grabbed your hands and brought them to his chest, " Please marry me! "

" Huh?! "

You weren't expecting him to ask you again after you had turned him down so many times. Over the course of your journey though, you had grown to like the blonde crybaby. Looking him in the eye you gave him a smile, " Alright, I'll marry you. "

[moody-bloosh]

mirror, mirror (Illuso)

for some reason, i was in a bit of a fairy tale mood. so here’s my take on snow white ~! fem!reader too btw im sorry i couldn’t make it gender neutral :( here’s one of the passion projects I’ve been working on since last year <3 <3 I hope you all like it! 

tagging @a-nonnie-mousse​ bc she’s the only other illuso stan i personally know <3

content warning: yandere, manipulation, mind break, homicide, gore 

As the newest addition to the king’s harem, the latest flower in his blooming garden, you knew you should be thankful for the opportunity. For someone like you born the second daughter of some countryside lord, a spot in the king’s harem meant comfort, riches, and if you were so inclined, power. 

But for the sweet and simple you, you were already happy to be allowed such a privilege. There was no greater honor than to serve the king, you believed. Besides, some part of you marveled over how romantic it was. Innocently, you imagined that perhaps in the palace, the king would show you the love and affection you’d only known of in passing, just like the ones you were so fond of reading about in your books. 

And so even though it pained you to uproot yourself from your home, the only world you had ever known. You had taken the king’s outstretched hand and agreed to be his newest concubine. 

On your first day in the harem, the king gifts you with a mirror. A large ornate, full length mirror inlaid with pearls and gold. How it had filled your heart with so much love and adoration, you’d never had such finery back at home. 

Oh, if only you’d known that this was common practice for the king. 

If only you were a little wiser to the nuances of the palace. 

If only you had known better, you would have tried harder to seduce the king. You would have worked even harder to try and secure allies. But you did not know any better. You were the second daughter of a countryside lord and you were not wise at all to the politics that brewed in court. 

Before you knew it you were painfully alone. Seeing that the king was beginning to tire of you, the other concubines took it upon themselves to curry favor with him again. Pushed to the side, alone, isolated, you yearned for your home and yet you could not return. 

You were the king’s concubine now and you were his property. 

You had nobody in this painfully beautiful palace. Consigning yourself to a slow and silent decay, you decided to keep to yourself. Your heart too fragile to keep up with courtly intrigue and the painful words of the other concubines. 

All you had now were your books. Your books and your beautiful mirror. 

One lonely afternoon, you were lying in bed, reading when you heard the most peculiar thing. A distinctly male voice sounded through your room. Too youthful, too deep to be the king’s. You froze, fearful of an intruder. You held the book close to your chest, a makeshift weapon as you looked around your room. 

Your room looked painfully ordinary. Looking here and there for any sign of an intruder, you hesitantly walked around your room. 

“Over here~” 

You froze immediately. 

D-did the mirror just talk?! 

Bringing your hands up to your mouth to suppress the frightened scream that threatened to tear out of your throat, you considered the mirror once more. It was painfully maddening in its normalcy. Perhaps...perhaps you were just imagining things. Hesitantly, you gently brushed your hand against the mirror’s surface. When nothing happened, you breathed a sigh of relief and your expression softened once more. 

Maybe it was all just your imagination. 

“That’s a nice expression,” the voice said again, “you look pretty when you smile.” 

Your heart falls and your expression falters, as the mirror in front of you reveals a handsome man. With hair tied up in neat pigtails and his eyes seeming to pierce through you, you trembled. Biting back another scream, you found your knees buckling, too frightened of the supernatural happenings. 

However, before you could find yourself tumbling down to the floor, you felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you safe and secure. Looking up into the stranger’s eyes you found yourself transfixed by its beauty. Red eyes glittering like precious rubies, full, soft-looking lips curled into a smug smile that sent your heart pattering wildly against your chest. 

Illuso smirked. 

“See something you like, your highness?” 

“I-I...” 

You trail off, too confused by the sudden turn of events. 

“Hm? A little tongue tied I see, I admit, I do have that effect on people~” 

“Y-you... the mirror...” 

“Ah yes, it’s an interesting ability isn’t it?” 

“Who are you?” 

Illuso caressed your cheek tenderly. He drank in your flustered, embarrassed expression. So adorable, so pure. Holding you closer and leaning forward so that his lips were merely inches away from yours, Illuso whispered. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be, your highness.” 

“T-then...” You said softly, shyly averting your gaze from him. 

Illuso hummed. Of course, not even you would be able to resist him. As if considering his words, you took a moment to think before you looked back at him. He was still holding you tightly. Your heart pounded fiercely against your chest as you opened your mouth to tell him your wish. 

“Will you be my friend?” 

Illuso is true to his words, you find. Soon, the boring days you were trapped in began to be filled with happy memories that you would spend with Illuso. You found yourself smiling more often recently. Some days you would catch yourself smiling as you selected books for you and Illuso to read from the library or you would find yourself thinking of what he might like to have for tea that day. 

Naturally, the other residents of the castle begin to take notice of the sudden shift in your behavior. The concubines would gossip, jealous about how you could devour so much snacks by yourself and still retain your lovely figure. Suddenly, they were inviting you to spend time with them, to read with them, to be with them as they went about their sewing. You were pleased to discover that they weren’t as terrible as you had initially thought. Soon enough, you were swept away in tea parties and plays and private viewings at esteemed art galleries. 

It made you a little anxious at first to spend so much time with such intimidating noble ladies, you began to ease up around them. Even though at first, you had been loathe to part with Illuso, you found yourself spending less and less time with him. At the very least, you would make time in your evenings to sit with Illuso and tell him about your day. You would apologize that you couldn’t spend as much time with him as you had used to. And though he wasn’t one to openly complain you did take note of his huffy demeanor and promise to make it up to him soon. Sadly, and much to Illuso’s displeasure, you never really were able to keep your promises to him. 

Even, the king himself had taken notice of you. Your innocent joy and sweetness reminding him of why he had taken you to be one of his concubines in the first place. That was another thing you needed to be grateful to Illuso for. You had regained the king’s favor. You would cheerfully spin around in front of Illuso showing off the new dresses and the pretty jewelry the king would lavish onto you. You would tell him how happy you were that the king was finally paying attention to you again, blissfully unaware of the jealousy in his eyes. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Illuso,” you said to him. “If you hadn’t rescued me from loneliness then I would have spent the rest of my life sulking alone.” 

You grasped his hands gently, looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face. You looked at him so adoringly, so reverently. The sight of you, looking at him so lovingly had his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He worried that you would hear it. 

“I’m so very grateful for you,” you told him, giving him a small, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, my dearest friend.” 

Something ugly and dark rears its head in Illuso’s heart. 

Was that really all you saw him as? A friend? 

No. No. He couldn’t accept that. He would not accept that. 

You were his Queen, the only bright light in his dark world. And he was your savior, wasn’t he? The reason you had even begun to smile again, the one who had saved you from a dull life. 

As you spoke to him about the king, that wretched vile bastard who dared to monopolize your time, he thought long and hard about how he would bring you back into his arms. 

All he wanted was for you to be his and only his again. 

It is all too easy for Illuso to slink around unnoticed and whisper slanderous words about you to the other concubines. Soon enough they do his job for him, he watches as you are shunned once more. The target of vicious bullying and vitriol. You would quietly tell Illuso all about the horrifying ordeals you were forced to endure. And he would play the part of your every loyal, always understanding friend. 

You are the fairest of them all,” Illuso whispers, his tone as sweet as honey, and his touch so inviting. 

“They are simply jealous of you, my Queen,” Illuso would say, sweet, comforting, “you know that they are nothing compared to you.” 

His red eyes glimmered like rubies as he leaned out of the mirror, his lips coming dangerously close to your own. “I hate to see you so sad...” 

“Just say the words your majesty,” he says sweetly. “I’ll take care of them for you.” 

You aren’t as foolish or as innocent as Illuso thinks. Spending so much time in his company, it was only inevitable that you’d come to be corrupted too. You know full well what Illuso means when he offers to take care of your problem. Your fingers clench, ruining the delicate fabric of the new dress the king had given you. If Illuso notices the conflicted look on your face, he doesn’t comment on it. 

“Please,” you whisper. “Please help me, Illuso.” 

Lately, you wake up with tears in your eyes. Every night, Illuso would come to you with a smile on his face. Every morning, a new corpse would be found. Each and every death hangs on your conscience, makes you wash your hands and clean yourself with a little too much vigor. Tensions rise in the palace, the other concubines beg the king to let them leave. Your numbers dwindle and dwindle until only you and a handful of other noble ladies are left. 

You are the King’s favorite and you have lasted the longest. 

When he crowns you Queen as thanks for your loyalty, you assume that maybe this time you will be happy. You confide in Illuso and as always he nods and tells you that he is happy that you are to be Queen. 

When you tell him that you are excited to move into the king’s quarters, he stills. But he does not let any of his unsightly jealousy show. Instead, he digs his nails into his palm, hard enough to draw blood. He keeps up his gentle facade at least until you fall asleep. He watches you sleep, you sleep peacefully for the first time since his killings. He takes in the soft rise and fall of your chest and when you turn over to the other side, he finally makes his move. 

Stepping out of the mirror, he softly pads over to you. Caressing your cheek, he leans forward to plant a delicate kiss on your lips, just as he had done every night since he had ascertained his feelings for you. 

He thinks, thinks as hard as he can about a way to keep you out of that disgusting king’s clutches. It takes him a moment or two before he understands. Illuso chuckles softly, as the solution comes to him. Painfully simple. 

He just had to get rid of the king.  

The newest addition to the king’s harem: a sweet girl with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. She was beautiful, so painfully beautiful you felt physically sick in her presence. When she is introduced to the king, he gives her a mirror. 

Almost identical to the one he gave you. 

As you are prone to do now, you run to Illuso. You ask him, voice dripping with betrayal and heartbreak how many? Illuso has the gall to look surprised and that breaks you just the slightest bit. 

“I know, Illuso. I know I’m not special. Tell me how many concubines have you offered your friendship? Your companionship? Did you give them something more?” 

And oh, how quick he is to step out of his mirror and hold you in his strong arms. Blanketing you in a warmth, you were loathe to admit you wanted. 

“Only you, my Queen, it’s always been just you.” 

“Then why me? Why someone like me?!” 

“Because,” and with his free hand, he hooks his index finger under your chin, prompting you to look him in the eye. “You are the fairest of them all.” 

The fairest? Really? How stupid did Illuso think you were? You looked so pathetic, so shameful reflected in his eyes. As if scalded by his sincere words, you try to tear your gaze away from his but you find yourself transfixed by him. He was handsome, he could have anyone in the harem. Before you can even say anything else, Illuso kisses you. 

And it is sweeter than any wine, more passionate than anything you’ve ever experienced, you close your eyes as you give in to his affections. The kiss is brief but you find that it is enough. 

When he caresses your cheek, you can’t help but blush as you lean in to his touch. You’ve never known what it truly meant to be wanted, to be desired. To be loved. You’d never received the love you truly wanted, the love Illuso was so willing to give you.

When he leans in to kiss you, you lean forward to meet him halfway. When his hands begin to rove around, you let him. 

You wanted him to give you the love you were so desperate for. And he was kind enough to acquiesce over and over through the night. 

Even now, the people still whisper about that dreadful day when the Queen had invited the king and all his concubines to a banquet, how she had given them all beautifully baked apple tarts, how even though she had taken a bite of one of those apple tarts she had survived the deadly poison within them. 

No one had dared to oppose you, dissenters were hushed, even people who would whisper insults about you would suddenly be found hanged in the town’s square. 

The New Queen is a witch. The New Queen was granted powers by the Devil, himself. 

The New Queen is always talking to her mirror. 

You were crying again, hysterical and of course, only Illuso could soothe you. 

Just as he had wanted. 

“It’s so terrible what the peasants call you,” Illuso had murmured softly as you nuzzled closer to him, “they call you the Evil Queen, the Mad Queen, even.” 

Illuso sighed as he cupped your tearstained face to wipe away your tears, “oh, if only they knew how lovely you really are.” 

You clung to Illuso all the more, you held him as if he was  your only hope and in a way he was. You don’t sleep well at night anymore. The images of that gruesome banquet forever imbedded in your mind. How they all retched and vomited blood after taking a bite of the apple tarts, how the king desperately grabbed your neck, trying to take you down with him until Illuso had appeared to slit his throat. 

In this horrible, horrible world, you could lean only on Illuso. He was the only one in this world who really loved you, and how fortunate you were to find someone like him.

Illuso cups your cheeks, using the pads of his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

So lucky, you were so lucky to find someone like Illuso. Illuso drinks in the devotion, the ardor in your eyes like it is the finest of wines. Smiling as he leans forward to seal a passionate kiss on your lips once more, you are only too desperate to please him. 

“My darling, my Queen, my _____. You truly are the fairest of them all.” 

[ayanna-wild]

Blind Love

Word Count: 905

Pairings: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: slight angst

A/N: Request from wattpad, Prequel to 'Love is Blind'

Masterlist

Summary: Being friends with the high functioning sociopathic detective wasn't without it's challenges. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Rather he was a breath of fresh air to your repetitive life.

.....................................................................

Your fingers ran along the textured wall as you walked up the stairs to the flat. The familiar smell of chemicals drifted through the air. You reached the top of the stairs and held the door frame as you walked inside. Shrugging your bag off your shoulder you went to set it on the little side table that was usually by the door. However, when you heard your bag hit the floor you frowned a little.

"Sherlock?" You called out into the flat.

"Just a moment." His voice sounded faint.

You realized he must be in another room and you took a few cautious steps forward.

"Did you move things around again?"

"Yes, did you notice already? That was even sooner than last time."

Sherlock, unlike most people, didn't treat you like glass after learning you were blind. In fact, the consultant detective seemed a little to interested about that. He was constantly looking for new ways to do what he called 'range experiments' with you. Not that you minded, in truth you liked the unpredictability he brought into your life.

"You moved the table this time." You pointed out.

You heard footsteps and turned your head in the direction of the noise. You heard someone pick your bag up off the floor, sitting somewhere else.

"Oh that, no, I broke that last week." Sherlock said.

You heard him tapping away on his phone, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Broke it? How did you do that?"

Sherlock momentarily paused hid texting, looking up at you for a second.

"I was bored."

That ended that line of questioning, and it was explanation enough.

"Ok, so why am I here? I was on the other side of London."

"Why?"

"I was at my doctor's, there's a new surgery, they said it might restore my eyesight." You shrugged.

Sherlock moved away from you but you knew he was still listening.

"Might? That doesn't sound like a very reassuring percentage."

You smiled shaking your head, as you took a few cautious steps around the room.

"I know, just entertaining the thought, I'm not actually going to do it." You shrugged.

You kneed the table, letting out a muffled curse when you heard a cup crash to the ground.

"Well if you're not going to do it then, why waste your time with a meaningless doctor's appointment." Sherlock muttered.

You laughed lightly and shook your head.

"It's an emotional thing Sherlock, it's called hope, most people have it."

He scoffed and slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Sounds dull."

You just shook your head and took a tried to move away from the table. Unfortunately the cup you had knocked over must have had something in it because you slipped on the suddenly wet floor. Sherlock heard the loud thud, and he hurried from the kitchen just in time to see you sit up. You held one of your legs, blood rolling down your leg from the deep cut on your knee.

"Is it bad." You asked.

"Yes."

You looked up, turning your head in the direction of his voice.

"You're supposed to say no Sherlock." You muttered.

You let out a squeak when he suddenly lifted you into his arms.

"Oh yes, because lying makes it all better." He said sarcastically.

He sat you down on a chair, when you felt the leather under your fingertips you immediately knew it was his chair.

"Don't move, blood is such a pain to get out of carpet." He said.

You sat on the chair listening to him rummage through cupboards in the kitchen before returning.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm stitching your knee."

You jerked away slightly.

"It needs stitches?"

Sherlock was kneeling on the ground in front of you and he looked up at your slightly frightened expression.

"I thought you were finding a more competent doctor." Sherlock said.

He was trying to distract you and by the way you relaxed a little it was working.

"You think every doctor is incompetent Sherlock." You teased.

"I think they're idiotic." He corrected you.

You flinched when you felt a needle piercing, your skin.

"I thought you were looking for a flatmate." You said.

"I am."

Realizing that was all you were getting from him, you smiled and let him finish stitching your cut closed. When he was done he stood, dusting off his pants.

"I should have kept a better eye on you, you were always rather clumsy even for a blind person." Sherlock sighed.

You raised an eyebrow, looking a him surprised.

"Sherlock Holmes are you apologizing?" You gasped.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm merely pointing out that I should have paid more attention during this experiment." He said.

"Of course." You agreed, not believing him for a moment.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you."

................................................................................

Tag List: @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @im-just-along-for-the-ride @adira-secrets @gingernarwal @beththedemonhunter @cuddly-cat-in-a-trench-coat @lifeshortbro

[xmenwickedgame]

Here’s to the New Year (drabble)

//So I wrote this last year around this time. I just didn’t have a blog to share it on. Although some things have changed for my muses in a year I thought I’d upload this anyway. 

Happy New Year!

___

Sometimes ten years makes all the difference. 

That was the thought running through James Xavier’s head this evening. He was seated in the family room—distinct from the living room as this was smaller and almost exclusively reserved for his family as opposed to the growing student body. One of the many changes made over the last decade but not necessarily a bad one. The Xavier family and all extended members had a rough and rocky history: they deserved a space to let their hair down or however the saying went. Be the man and/or woman behind the curtain and just...unplug. On the off-chance someone somewhere needed something, well, that’s what telepathy was for. Mister Xavier to the rescue in record time. James smiled to himself, nestling further against the sofa he currently occupied. He remembered a time his powers caused more trouble than solutions. Another welcomed change in the last decade.

“What’s so funny?” Ventured a voice. James met the gray eyes of the woman seated beside him.

“Ahh, nothin’ Em,” he replied with a lazier grin. “Just reminiscing.”

Emily Clearwater was his best friend and significant other: she was one of if not the first major change in his life all those years ago. When he’d been a boy of fifteen and she a girl near-about that age—her Time Lord DNA made it difficult to tell. It worked out though, he mused, because he too aged at a slower rate. They’d been through hell and back, he and Emily had: sometimes hand in hand, others with teeth bared and bleeding hearts. Here they were now about to start a family.

Warmth filled James’ yellow eyes—eyes like his mother’s, but only the pupils—and he shuffled up just slightly.

“Reminiscing?” Emily echoed as he wove an arm around her shoulder. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you use that word.” She laughed as she spoke, a warm, hearty sound. He couldn’t help but echo it.

“Oh yeah?” James asked, kissing the crown of her auburn hair. “This mean I get some kinda prize?”

“Oi!” A loud and deliberately obnoxious voice belonging to the Doctor cut in. 

“Whatever you’re gonna give ‘im you give in your own private quarters. ‘s nothin’ anyone here wants to see.” The elder Time Lord waved his hand at the two in what looked like a scolding motion. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was unable, however, to fight off a blush and by the way Emily’s skin warmed up beneath his chin she’d apparently failed as well.

“Shite dad,” she grumbled and James was very sure he heard an eye roll in there. “We aren’t kids anymore.” Emily slid a hand over her baby bump. At four months, she was just starting to show. “Are you gonna keep the lectures up once the baby’s born?”

The Doctor scowled and leaned forward in the loveseat he currently occupied. 

“I will if you two can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Seriously, Doc?” James jumped in. He had, in the last decade, managed to score good graces with the older (way way older) Time Lord but that didn’t mean they always saw eye to eye. James placed his hand over Emily’s before continuing. “You don’t think we’d actually—“

“Okay that’s enough of that.” Announced the unmistakable voice of Raven Darkholme. All heads turned as she entered the room, a tray of finger foods balanced in each hand. Haha, James thought and while it was juvenile he couldn’t help himself: mom to the rescue.

“Need help, love?” Asked the Doctor, grabbing the arm rests as if prepared to stand. Raven shook her head: James didn’t miss the slant in her scaly brow.

“You stay put, Mister.” She said, crossing into the center of the room. An oval coffee table with a protective glass top sat there and it was on this glass she at last set down the trays. It was then James noticed she’d dressed up slightly for the evening: nothing flashy but the dark collared shirt and skirt combo (with accessories) were a step above her usual attire. Weird. Not necessarily a bad weird; it was New Year’s eve after all. They’d all gone the extra mile in one way or another. Himself more a half than the full but hey, he was among family. If combed hair and a button-down with jeans didn’t fly, why bother staying in? There were more than a few places around accepting that kind of attire. If James wanted to, he could spend a casual night in a smoke-filled bar, entertaining strangers who gawked at his eyes and marveled at his ‘magic tricks.’ Maybe in another life he did just that. The current James, however, would much rather his present company. He fit right in among the mutants and aliens. A soft laugh dropped from his lips and this caught Emily’s attention.

“What are you smirking about?” She asked, a bemused look on her face.

“Hm? Ah nothing. Nothing important.” Emily poked his shoulder. “Come on, you already used that one tonight. Tell me.” James‘ eyebrow stayed put but his smile widened.

“Fine,” he said. “I was thinkin’ how cute you look with your nose all wrinkled.”

“You were not.” Emily said, a touch of color in her cheeks again. She laughed as well now, a laugh she hastened to muffle behind her hand, lest (he guessed) she subject herself to more paternal embarrassment. The Doctor however no longer seemed interested in monitoring their PDA: attention refocused almost solely on Raven. It used to bother James and Emily both—wasn’t there some kind of rule against courting your son’s-girlfriend’s-father? (Or your daughter’s-boyfriend’s-mother?) Ten years really made a world of difference.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Asked the Doctor again when Raven returned to the door. She paused, arms crossed beneath her breasts.

“No. Thank you. I’m just waiting on the boys.”

“Oh yeah?” James chimed in, peering over Emily’s head. “Who’d you rope into helping this time?”

Now it was Raven raising a brow. And people assumed he’d inherited that trait from his father. “Why? Looking for a stand-in while you go crusading across the galaxy?”

Way to play left field there. James blinked, temporarily at a loss for words. If the surrounding silence was any indication, he wasn’t the only one. 

“Wh—no.” He sputtered. “I was just—“ and then he caught the smile playing on her lips. That victorious maternal smile when she knew she’d gotten through to him. “...sorry, mom. Wasn’t fair to leave you alone with the holiday stuff.”

“No it wasn’t,” Raven agreed. She paused, yellow eyes roving from what looked like face to face. “Lucky for you all,” she went on suddenly. “I wasn’t alone.” 

Raven looked to the doorway again. “Logan! You said you were right behind me.”

”I am right behind ya,” came the graveled growl of a one Logan Howlett. James ducked his head as the burly Canadian entered the room. The grin he wore would’ve all-too-easily caught Logan’s eye. Was he too old to call his mom a super-hero? Because damn, the way she commanded their rambunctious rag-tag family suggested nothing less.

“Put the bottles over there,” Raven said, nodding to the coffee table and when she did James noticed he was in fact carrying dark glass bottles. At a glance they all looked like champagne, but that was a lesson James didn’t need relearning: since he could remember, or at least for as long as they’d been close, sparkling cider—the kind free of alcohol—was included for the celebration. This year was no exception and thank goodness for it: he might’ve long since reached drinking age but champagne did no good for a mom-to-be. Half Time Lord or not, they’d agreed to play it safe. Besides, his father didn’t drink either.

Speaking of my dad, where is he? James sat up straighter, clearing his view of the doorway. No sooner did he then in limped Charles Xavier, his dad and apparently another extra set of hands. The older man carried with him several champagne glasses. Okay, that was new. Charles slowed as he crossed through the doorway, glancing shyly at Raven as though waiting for instruction. James’ parents had made as much peace with one another as they could but seeing them work together, when had that started? Or had it already and he in his ‘crusading ’ simply missed it?

“On the table, Charles,” said Raven gently and the elder Xavier bobbed his head. James tried his best not to stare. Charles had gradually emerged from his frightened shell since coming home but guilt and self-loathing, these took longer to overcome. Was ten years the time needed to heal all that? To heal the pain between his parents? James felt a finger that wasn’t his push his chin up. He took the hint, closing his mouth.

‘Thanks for that,’ he told Emily telepathically. He felt that same hand slide across his arm.

‘You’re welcome.’

The last two members of their family—Hank McCoy and Alex Summers—entered soon after. Alex almost immediately on Charles’ heels with the rest of the glasses in tow and Hank a little while later with a pretty but very athletic-looking woman James didn’t recognize.

“Hope it’s alright.” He said to Raven. She smiled, patting his shoulder.

“Of course it is, Hank. You don’t have to ask.” She slipped around him as he led his date towards them, closing the living room door. There was a sense of accomplishment in that, James felt it from his seat: a satisfied finality that now, together at last, they could ring in the new year.

‘All set mom?’ James asked, using his powers again. She looked over at him and though she said nothing at first, she didn’t need to: her eyes spoke volumes by themselves.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m all set, James.’ Then she joined the group right as Logan turned the TV on. Dick Clark’s face materialized before them, preparing for the Count Down as he always did. Some things never changed. For the most part though...for the most part they did and, James decided, watching his family interact, those changes often came for the better.

See you later, ‘87. Can’t wait to see what’s gearing up in 1988.

[freddiesaysalright]

Part of Your World - Chapter 5

Ben!Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Prince Ben is trying to escape an arranged marriage. A young mermaid wants to escape the sea. Their paths cross and they may just be what the other is looking for.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @radiob-l-a-hblah​, @xviiarez​, @butlegendsneverdie​, @sunflower-ben​, @godblessthisgardenpigeon​, @okilover02​, @xhaliemax​ if you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Y’all ready to see a classic fanfic trope? I know we love it ;) Also, I’m sorry this update took for fucking ever I’m just horrible at time management

Warning(s): None :)

Moodboard

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

The next morning, you woke to find Ben missing from his hammock. You rolled out of yours, careful to land on your feet, and then headed upstairs to the deck. The morning was misty and chilly. You shivered and hunched your shoulders as you pressed on. You found him at the bow, looking out over water, clouded by fog. His expression was hard. Distressed. You placed a hand on his shoulder to alert him to your presence. You felt his muscles relax beneath your touch as he turned to face you.

“Good morning,” he said shortly.

Is it? You questioned.

He shook his head. “No...no, I suppose it isn’t.”

Talk to me, you insisted. Why are you so upset by this?

“Because,” he said. “A king is supposed to protect his people. To run his kingdom with knowledge and care. Until I joined Behati, I didn’t know anything that was going on. I feel...stupid. And completely unprepared for the next step in my life.”

Well, you know now, you said, trying to be encouraging. Maybe now when you do get home, you can explain what you’ve seen to your father and work together to fix it.

“That’s another thing that’s bothering me,” he said. “I don’t like to think my father knows about this and is ignoring it, but what if that is the case? What if he isn’t ignorant and he just doesn’t care? What do I do then?”

I can’t say for sure, since I don’t know him, you signed. But if he's anything like you, then there is no way this information wouldn’t affect him. Look at how your heart is hurting for your people. If your father has half your heart, it will shock him, and he will do everything he can to correct it.

A hint of a smile passed over his lips.

“I hope so,” he said. “But who knows when I’ll be able to get back to him?”

You aren’t Behati’s prisoner, you reminded him. I’m sure she’d take you back home if that’s what you wanted.

He shook his head again. “No, not really. She’s so close now to finding Sycoria. And I’m not ready for this adventure to end yet. Crazy as it’s been, and as much danger as I’ve encountered, I’ve never had so much fun.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“It seems completely mental, I know,” he chuckled. “But...before, I was looking at the life that was being handed to me. It was soft and comfortable in the palace. With a pretty wife who would take my word second only to God’s, and give me heirs. I’d do the same things every day, with the same people, without any idea of what goes on beyond the palace walls. It was frightening. Running away from that - especially the marriage - was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

You don’t want to get married? You wondered, a little dejected.

“I do someday,” he said. “But right now it just felt like a way to trap me and keep me right where I was. I barely even had a taste of freedom.”

Believe me, that I understand, you signed.

“Controlling parents?” he asked.

You nodded. A controlling father, mostly. My mother died when I was little.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What happened to her?”

Pirates, you told him, because you couldn’t say “humans.” 

Ben heaved a sigh. The wind blew and you shuddered. 

“Cold?” he asked.

You nodded, hugging yourself. He offered a gentle smile as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You smiled gratefully at him. Then, he did something you did not expect. He pulled you into his arms and held you there. Your soft gasp was lost in his shirt as you rested your forehead against his chest. His embrace was warm and comfortable. You could hear his heart beating.

“The world is cruel,” he said heavily. “I’ve seen a great deal of wickedness and devastation since I left home, but I must say that you, Y/N, have been a bright light.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and you felt heat rise to your face. 

“Despite all you’ve been through, you’ve remained kind and gentle,” he went on. “You’re genuinely the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I know it’s only been a couple days, but you’re a very precious friend to me.”

You looked up and beamed at him. He held your gaze and seemed to inch closer. Your stomach turned at the thought. Was he going to kiss  you? Already? You were definitely fond of each other, but was it love? It certainly felt like the beginnings of it.

He pressed his lips to your forehead. You released a breath of relief. As badly as you wanted to kiss him - and you knew what was at risk if it didn’t happen - now was not the time. He was vulnerable, and he needed support. It would have felt like taking advantage of a weak moment. 

“You’re freezing, you should get out of the wind,” he remarked as he pulled away. 

I’m warmer with you, you returned. Besides, I miss the sea.

His brow furrowed. You had not meant to make that thought apparent, so your mind raced to come up with how to back track.

I just mean that I miss my old life, you signed, going vaguer. 

“Tell me about it,” he said. “Goodness, you’ve listened to me ramble on about my nonsense long enough.”

You smiled. What do you want to know?

“Let’s start with where you’re from,” he said.

It’s a whole other world, you signed. Beautiful in some ways and completely frustrating in others. I had interests my father didn’t approve of, and eventually I was punished for doing something I considered to be the right thing. I knew I had to get away. 

“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” he said. “Feeling like your parents are just trying to control you.”

Especially when they say it’s just because they know what’s best, you replied. How can they know what’s best if they don’t listen?

“Honestly!” he agreed. “All we want is the choice to make our life for ourselves.”

Absolutely, you signed. It’s about freedom. 

“Thanks for this, Y/N,” he said. “For listening and sharing. It’s been a real treat.”

You smiled again. Whenever you were around Ben, no matter how serious the discussion got, you always ended up smiling. You hoped that was how it would always be.

The sun began to rise over the water and the air warmed up. You returned Ben’s coat to him just as Behati was emerging from her quarters to address the crew.

“Ladies and Benjamin!” she began excitedly. “We now have the way to find Sycoria!”

Everyone cheered, including Ben. You clapped enthusiastically. Maybe if Behati was successful, you’d be free too.

“I’ve waited years for this moment,” she continued. “I’ve been a prisoner on my own ship all these years, but no more. But I wouldn’t be the captain I am without each of you. I collected my crew carefully, choosing those who I knew could work with me, and bring a fresh perspective. You have all proven more than worthy. Before we take on this final stretch of our journey, I’m letting you all celebrate. Our next stop is Dram, so you can all enjoy the Mermaid Festival, and then, we go after Sycoria with everything we’ve got!”

The crew cheered again. You shot Ben a questioning look. You had never been to a human festival before, and to hear they had one dedicated to mermaids was both scary and intriguing. 

“The mermaid festival celebrates Saint Asenora,” Ben explained. When your face lit up with recognition, he laughed. “My mother is named for the saint, but is not the saint herself. They both come from Dram, and my mother got her name because she was the first girl born to the Duke’s family there since the time of the saint.”

That’s incredible!

“We’ll dock in Dram tonight,” Behati said. “So you’ll have the whole day to celebrate tomorrow.”

You counted it up in your head. That would mean after the festival, you would only have another day with Ben.

Why is the saint celebrated at the Mermaid Festival? You asked.

“Because the legend goes that Asenora was a mermaid, and she fell in love with a human man,” he said. “She went to a witch to make her human, and the witch did it, but at great cost to Asenora. Her new legs were painful, and if the man did not love her in return, she would become sea foam.”

You swallowed. That hit a little too close to home.

What happened with the man? You asked.

“She found him, but he was already married,” Ben went on. “His wife was not as beautiful as Asenora, but she saw the smile on his face, and knew he was happy. Unwilling to disrupt his peaceful life, she sacrificed herself to the witch’s fate.”

That’s a horrible story, you signed with a pout.

“It doesn’t end there,” he said. “God had seen what Asenora did, and that her love was pure. He saved her spirit, and named her saint of the sea. Sailors across the kingdom pray to her for safe passage. Every year, they celebrate her at the Mermaid Festival.”

Well, that’s not so bad, you signed. But it’s still sad she never found love.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But lots of good came of it.”

You shrugged. Makes sense.

You and Ben spent the day together, working, talking, and laughing. Ben found himself impossibly more attracted to you as time went on. All he wanted was to be by your side. As he watched you help Ari with a rope, the way your face scrunched up in your way which was so cute. Your bright smile and sparkling eyes. The goodness and openness of your heart.

He felt a hand on his shoulder which drew him out of his stupor. 

“Y/N,” Behati said. “How do you feel about her?”

“She’s great,” he answered bashfully. “Really helpful and sweet and patient and -”

“Pretty?” she finished.

His cheeks got pinker. 

“She’s beautiful,” he said.

“There seems to be a real connection there,” she observed. “She likes you too.”

“Captain, what are you getting at?” he asked pointedly.

“I’m saying that what I see is the beginning of what we call love,” she said. “And I think you should pay attention to that.”

He blinked, astounded. He had never thought about it like that. But his attraction and appreciation of you definitely stood out to him. He had never felt that way about a woman before. But love? 

“I dunno if we’re there yet,” he said with a shrug. “But I...I really like her.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “Show her a good time tomorrow.”

“I will,” he said. “I’m actually excited for it.”

Behati smiled, nodded, and then left him to his work again. She walked over to you.

You beamed at the captain as she approached, but it faltered at the look on her face. She looked serious.

“Y/N, come with me to my quarters, we need to talk,” she said.

What’s this about? You wondered.

“Just come with me,” she insisted.

You put down your things and followed her. You shot Ben a questioning look as you passed him, but he only shrugged. He watched you disappear into Behati’s room.

“Hey, Ben,” Ari said. “Don’t you think that a sweet, charming girl that’s right in front of you might be better than some mystery woman you aren’t even sure exists?”

He sighed. “I suppose…”

Inside, Behati  sat on her desk, facing you. You stood before her, a questioning expression on your features.

“We’ve never addressed this, but I did see you that day you rescued Ben,” she began. “And you didn’t have legs. You were a mermaid.”

You looked at the floor and nodded.

“And I know Sycoria gave you your legs,” she said.

You nodded again.

“What was the price?” she asked. “And what are the conditions of your agreement?”

You took a deep breath. Then, you explained everything. How you’d always been fascinated by humans, that night you listened on the side of the ship and that was how you were there to rescue Ben. You told her your father punished you for it, and then you went to Sycoria to become human. You even told her the limits of your spell. That after the festival you would only have another twenty-four hours to get Ben to kiss you. 

“Well, you’re in luck, he likes you,” she said. “How do you feel about him?”

I’m starting to fall in love with him, you signed. He’s so brave and kind and caring. And we both value freedom and love. It feels like we’re meant to be.

“You very well may be,” she agreed. “The only thing is Ben is still caught up on the woman he thinks saved him. I think you should tell him the truth. During the festival.”

You nodded. I agree. I want to be totally honest with him so that he doesn’t feel tricked. 

“I like that,” she said. “To get this going, I’ve got something for you.”

A present?

She smiled and then crossed the room to her wardrobe. You watched eagerly as she opened the door, reached in, and pulled out a gorgeous gown that was on a hanger. Your mouth dropped as you looked at it. It was stunning - gold thread with soft pink lace and delicate frills along the sleeves and neckline. You had never seen such a garment.

“Wear this,” she said with a smirk. “That should put some serious hearts in his eyes.”

But if it’s yours, how will it fit me?! You wondered.

“It was actually part of a plunder I took a few years back,” she said. “I think it looks about your size. Dresses never suited me anyway. But they do suit a princess.”

You grinned. Thank you so much.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Shall we try it on?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

Behati had everything that went with the dress - the undergarments, corset, and even gold slippers to match it. As she finished lacing you up, you finished letting your hair out of the braids. Then she walked you over to the mirror that was on the wall. You gasped.

“My, my, you’re stunning!” she cried. “Look at you, gorgeous!”

You blushed, flattered by her praise, especially since you found her so beautiful. 

Thank you, you signed. I really feel like a princess now.

“You look like one,” she said. “You are one. Ben is a lucky, lucky prince.”

You blushed deeper. 

“We’ll be docking soon,” she said. “Stay in here as long as you like. I’ll have Ari and Kay get you dressed tomorrow.”

You giggled together, and then she departed. You looked at yourself again, twirling gently back and forth. You pictured yourself on Ben’s arm, looking like you actually belonged there. The way this dress would shift and move, the way it would swirl as you danced. The festival became a whole lot more exciting. 

When you docked at Dram, You had changed back into your crew clothes, but the dress was carefully packed and with Ari. Behati also handed Ari a pouch of gold to pay for rooms at the inn. She whispered some instructions into Ari’s ear that you guessed were about the dress. The captain shot you a knowing smile, and then you were all off into town. 

Dram was much more peaceful than Henrietta. There was a heavier military presence and the people were clearly wealthier. Most of the women had jewels around their necks and fingers. Their dresses were made of luxury fabrics, and most of them were escorted by a man. 

Not that there wasn’t poverty. There certainly was. The shopkeepers and merchants were dressed similarly to yourself and Behati’s crew. Although, the dress you knew was waiting for you would make you fit in right along with those fine ladies.

The inn was not too far from the dock, and Ari went to check you all in. The innkeeper gave Ari the keys, and she began assigning rooms. Your stomach turned when she said that you and Ben would be sharing. 

“Strictly for space,” Ari said. “You see, everyone else is rooming with their partners.”

You nodded slowly. I suppose that’s alright. Ben?

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N, then so am I,” he said.

There was a reassurance in his voice that eased you. 

“Y/N, come to my room tomorrow morning,” Ari said. “For your gift from Behati.”

She handed you the room key and winked. Ben looked between the two of you, confused.

“What?” he questioned. “Behati’s given you something?”

You nodded. It’s not important right now. Let’s just get to our room.

He agreed, and you walked upstairs together. You went to the room indicated on your key, and you turned the lock. You opened the door and walked in. The room was nice and cozy but to your horror, there was only one bed.

There must be a mistake, you signed. Ari would get us separate beds.

“Relax,” Ben replied, though he was also nervous. “I’ll go downstairs and see if there’s another. Wait right here.”

He left, and you stood in the doorway, anxiety coming off of you in waves. Being so close to Ben - sharing a bed - that would create a whole other level of intimacy between you. You didn’t have much time to fret before he returned.

“Sorry, no luck,” he said. “Between the Mermaid Festival guests and now us, all the other rooms are booked.”

You nodded and swallowed.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep on the floor,” he offered, scratching his neck. 

No, you signed. We can share. That is, as long as you’re okay with it.

“Of course!” he said, and at the look of surprise at his enthusiasm, he collected himself. “Sorry. I just, uh...I dunno, I like being close to you, Y/N.”

You smiled. I like being close to you too.

It was getting late, so you both got ready for bed. Ben watched as you slowly shed a few layers of clothing. He found himself blushing at the sight of your bare shoulder, and the soft skin there. He resisted a brutal urge to walk up behind you and press his lips to it. 

He shook his head and began to take off his own clothes. You peeked over your shoulder and tried to not drool as his shirt came off and you saw his body. He had tan lines from his work and time with Behati, but it did not take away the appeal of his strong build. You happily would have thrown yourself into those arms. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, bringing you back out of your thoughts.

You nodded stiffly. He allowed you to get in the bed first, and you hesitantly pulled back the blankets and slid into the spot. As he followed suit, you became acutely aware of his body heat beside you. You looked resolutely away from him, so you wouldn’t make him uncomfortable, but you felt his eyes on you as he settled in.

He chuckled. “You can look at me, you know.”

You turned your head in his direction, but your eyes remained fixed on the sheets. His forefinger and thumb came to your chin, and he gently lifted your face to his. 

“Look, I understand that this is a bit uncomfortable,” he said kindly. “But I think we should focus on the positives. At least now, we have time to talk without any interruptions or worrying about anyone overhearing us.”

Should we have worried about that before? You asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. But I like that it’s just you and me now. So tell me something new about you.”

You smiled. You considered confessing to him now where you really came from and the deal with Sycoria, but it still felt too crazy. And you wanted to know how he felt about you before taking the risk. So you talked about other things to pass the time. You talked with him until your eyelids grew heavy. You settled yourself against him and rested your head on his shoulder. Sleep took you. Ben watched you ease into slumber and admired your peaceful expression for a while before it came for him as well. He slipped out of consciousness with his arms around you.

You woke the next morning warm and cozy in Ben’s embrace. It was so comfortable you almost didn’t want to get up and go anywhere. But you were excited about the festival. And you thought it might be the perfect place for you and Ben to have your first kiss. And you could finally tell him everything. 

Ben’s eyes fluttered open and met yours gazing at him. He smiled lazily.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

Good morning, you signed back. I’ve got to get to Ari’s room, but I didn’t want to disturb you.

“I wish you could stay,” he said through a yawn. “You’re so cozy.” 

You grinned. I’d be content to stay here with you for days, but we do have a festival to see.

“That’s true,” he conceded. “I’ll come get you in an hour, yeah?” 

You nodded. 

To your own dismay, you got out of bed, dressed quickly, and went down the hall to Ari’s room. Ben drifted back off for a bit, but found himself missing the feeling of you next to him. 

When you got to Ari’s room, she, Kay, Sharna, and several other girls were in there waiting for you. Ari flashed you a knowing smile.

“How was your night?” she asked.

It was….nice, you signed with a sheepish grin. He just held me all night. 

“Awww,” Sharna cooed. “What a sweetheart he is.” 

“Well, let’s get you dolled up for your sweet man,” Ari said. 

They all jumped in. While Ari was getting you dressed, the others were helping you with your hair. You really felt like a princess, but not the kind you were in the sea. The kind from storybooks. Only, you didn’t have servants. You had friends. 

Before you knew it, there was a knock at the door. Ben had arrived. Ari went to answer it, and she allowed him in. When he saw you standing there, in that elegant dress, with your hair curled and styled, and just a hint of rouge on your cheeks and lips, his jaw dropped. The breath was stolen out of his body, and his face grew warm. 

“Y/N, you - I - wow - you look….you look…” he sputtered.

“Beautiful?” Ari finished.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes still locked onto yours. “Stunning, actually.”

You flushed under his gaze and tried to relax. Somehow, you were more nervous around him now. It felt like he was properly courting you or something. The feeling only grew when he bent at the waist and bowed to you, extending his hand. 

“Y/N, I would be honored if you would allow me to escort you to the festival today,” he said. 

You took his hand, and he looked up. You beamed at him and nodded. He grinned back, losing the dignified air he’d created, and you were back to normal. Only, there was a real feeling of couplehood blossoming. 

He began to lead you out the door. Ari wished you good luck and said they’d be around if you and Ben needed anything. You both waved to her quickly, and then you were off. 

Ben took the lead, since he had been to the festival before. It was mostly local vendors selling products relating to the legend. People were everywhere, shopping and talking. Children darted back and forth, collecting candy and toys. Laughter and music floated through the air. Ben took you first to get a seashell crown to wear. 

“That really suits you, Y/N,” he said, placing it carefully atop your head. 

Thank you, you replied.

You continued walking. It shocked you to witness how fascinated humans were by mermaids. There was mermaid art, mermaid jewelry, mermaid themed food. None of it was accurate, but it was certainly amusing to you.  

You stopped at another booth, where you purchased a pendant for Ben. It was silver, hung down to his chest, and had a perfectly round pearl at the end. It was delicate, but still looked handsome on him.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do all this,” he said, admiring it. “This is much too kind a gift.”

You have been most kind to me, you replied. I want to show you I’m grateful to know you.

He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you so much,” he said. 

You beamed at each other. 

Exploring the Mermaid Festival took most of the day, but it was a whole day you got to spend with Ben. You talked, laughed, shopped, and got to know each other. In the afternoon, you went to the town square to see the dancing. 

A group of string players were creating a jaunty and upbeat tune. The dance was known to the citizens, as they were all in step with each other. You even saw Ari and Kay out there together. Ben looked over and saw your eager expression.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked. 

You nodded so hard, he laughed. 

Taking you hand, he led you out. You got a bit nervous since you had never danced before and you didn’t know the steps.

“Don’t worry,” Ben said, as if reading your mind. “Follow my lead, and keep the beat in your head.”

His reassuring smile made you forget all apprehension. You leapt into the crowd, one hand in Ben’s, the other on his shoulder, while his free hand took your waist. Nothing else mattered. You danced and danced, and whether or not the steps were right was of little consequence. You were in Ben’s arms, moving together, with laughter in your eyes and on your lips. 

The song came to an abrupt, but jubilant halt, and you stopped, breathless and smiling. Ben was similarly delighted. Then you both burst into laughter. 

“That was great, Y/N!” he praised. “For someone who once struggled to walk, you’re a helluva dancer!”

You smirked. Well, I think with dancing, it’s about having the right partner.

He blushed and smiled in that way that absolutely melted you. Then, the music began again, this time much slower. You watched all the other couples return to the floor.

“Do you know how to waltz?” Ben asked.

You shook your head. He quickly showed you a box step, and you told him you trusted him. So, he took you out again. 

The waltz was smooth, with a romantic sway that was exactly what you had envisioned for the dress. You were much closer to Ben now - chest to chest. Both of you were rosy cheeked from the previous dance, but your breath was evening out. Your heart rate on the other hand was picking up rapidly.

“Y/N, I…” Ben began, but trailed off. 

You poked him insistently in the shoulder. He met your eyes and you questioned him with a slight downturn at the corners of your mouth.

The truth was, as he looked at you now, the only thing on his mind was kissing you. 

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I like you,” he said. “I think...it’s becoming more than just a liking, if you know what I mean.” 

You did, but you wanted to hear him say it. You furrowed your brow and looked confused.

“Y/N,” he said again, and as the music slowed to a stop, so did your feet. “I think I’m starting to…”

He was leaning in again, and this time there was no confusion about where he was headed. He was going to kiss you. Properly. And you were more than ready to accept him. To break this curse and regain your voice so that he could know truly everything about you. And you weren’t scared to tell him anymore. Because you knew that he loved you.

Your eyes began to close as you got closer to each other. You felt his breath hot on your face. His lips just barely began to touch yours. Just a little closer. A little closer and then…

“Time for the mermaid tears!” cried a young boy who came bounding between you, forcing you back a few feet. 

You tried not to look annoyed because it wasn’t intentional, but the moment was gone. Ben cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Well, I suppose we can’t miss the mermaid tears,” he said.

What’s that about? You wondered.

“It’s when we all go to the beach and make a wish,” he explained. “Everyone takes a bit of sea glass, makes a wish, and throws it into the sea. The sea glass is meant to be Asenora’s tears she shed for her lost love. But we give them back to her - and you let go of whatever is weighing on you - then she’ll grant your wish. According to the legend.”

Does it have to be right now? You asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s always right at sundown.” 

How quickly the day had flown! You weren’t ready for it to be over, but maybe, once you got back to the room, there would be another opportunity for him to kiss you. 

With a sigh, you took his arm and headed for the shore. 

All the jewelers were handing out the pieces of sea glass as each person approached. Yours was a deep blue, which reminded you of home. Ben’s was a soft green, and matched his eyes. You walked out to the sand, kicking off your shoes about halfway to the water. You let the ocean come and swallow your feet. 

You decided you were letting go of your old life in the sea. Where you felt trapped by your father and had no control. Your wish was for Ben to try and kiss you again. You hurled the sea glass as far as you could. It disappeared inside a wave. Then you looked at Ben. 

“Go ahead back to the inn,” he said, still holding his sea glass. “I need a moment.”

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, nodded, and began walking back. He watched you go, making sure you met up with Ari and Kay, before you were out of sight among the crowd. Then he looked back over the water. 

His heart was torn. He was certain that he loved you, but he could not forget about the woman who saved his life. It clawed at him, made him feel guilty for falling so hard for you. But how could he help loving you? Even if there was someone out there he owed a debt to. 

That was what he was letting go of. He was releasing himself from the burden of having to love someone for that reason. If he ever found that woman, he would see his debt repaid. But he was committing himself to you. His wish was only that you loved him in return. And that you would have a long and happy life together. 

He realized that he was now alone on the beach. He reared back to throw the stone into the water, when a voice caught his attention. He turned around and saw a woman walking toward him. At first, he hoped it was you, but he knew it was not your silhouette. 

“Benjamin,” the woman said. 

Her voice was intoxicating. He noticed an odd, purple and gold glow coming from a shell around her neck. It hypnotized him so that he dropped his sea glass without even hearing it hit the sand. 

Behati was whistling to herself as she walked near the stern of the ship. She had a great view of  the beach from her spot in the harbor, and she had seen you and Ben making your wishes together. Now, as she was making a second round, a foggy glow caught her eye. She stopped and watched.

A woman she had never seen was talking to Ben. The woman was certainly beautiful from what Behati could tell. But when the glowing fog went straight into Ben’s eyes and his body went rigid, the captain knew something was horribly wrong. The woman began to lead Ben into the sea, walking right into the waves.

“BEN!” Behati screamed, but he paid her no mind. “BEN, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

He continued to ignore her. Then Behati watched with dread as the prince’s head vanished beneath the inky black surface of the water. A wicked cackle echoed through the air. A laugh Behati could never forget as long as she lived. 

“Sycoria!”

[abnormalpsychology]

The Bully (part one)

[HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Ya boi is excited bc I’m uploading my first-ever fanfic!! @joshua-rush-fanpage I hope you like it! This is part of the Valentines Day Friendom Gift Exchange. I wrote quite a lot more than I expected to, so the tag #myfanfic on here will be where you can find the rest uploaded later today. Sorry about the spacing errors— I originally wrote this in a google doc and Tumblr was being weird when I tried to fix them. I really really hope you like it! The first part is utter shit as a warning but it gets better!!! Hopefully I write more stuff soon, but here’s a little GHC to warm your hearts for now. I can’t believe I’m leaving a long, shitty, Wattpad-ass Author’s Note for the whole world to see but here we fuckin’ are. I also did not think I was the Soulmate AU type, but ALSO here we fuckin’ are. Meme mutuals please don’t think I’m lame I PROMISE IM COOL UwU. Have a lovely day even if you don’t read anything besides my ramblings. Thanks for making a community where I feel brave enough to finally post some writing I’ve worked hard on. I’m very grateful. <3 @swingsetboys Thanks so much for arranging this.]

Kids normally started thinking about their soulmates and deciphering their marks once they got their first crush, but Cyrus Goodman was different. He’d been worried about love all of his life, and the more he thought, the less sense it made. Trusting fate was generally put forward as the best way to deal with soulmate-related issues, at least before you met them, but Cyrus was finding that trusting fate was remarkably more difficult than all of the online articles and books in his parents’ offices made it sound. He wondered sometimes if he maybe was the universe’s first-ever mistake, a legendarily big screw-up, and this was a concern that was difficult to express without simultaneously concerning everyone else around him.

Cyrus’ mark was in what he had decided was the worst possible place it could be— his back. Two solid pitch-black handprints were indented into his skin so he had to twist around in the mirror to even glimpse the peculiar birthmark, like a two-year-old’s art project smushed across his skin or a crude frat party drawing etched on during a hangover was supposed represent his hope for the future and the person he was supposed to love more than anything. He’d always felt weird about it. The question that was tied most to it, the great white whale, the million-dollar-Jeopardy one, was what the situation could possibly be that would cause the mark to light up, to fill with color, when it made contact with his future spouse’s skin.

They’re gonna... push me? It was still, after years of contemplation and stomachaches, the best theory he had. The first way the person he was supposed to find eternal happiness with was by them trying to hurt him. That sure didn’t sound like love to him.

How would he make them angry? What would he do wrong?

The thought was his shadow, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t want to make them angry, though! He wanted the person he was destined to spend the rest of his days with to like him right off the bat. He wanted the happy ending that everyone got.

“It’s fate,” Buffy had said and shrugged at their final summer sleepover before seventh grade began. “I mean, you can’t do anything to change it, Cy. I’m pretty sure you can’t fool the system by covering it with a tattoo. Since you always try to be as nice as possible anyway, I think you’re doing all you can.”

“Yeah.” He squinted. Maybe I’m just not good enough at being nice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, seeing through his words. “Cyrus. You really need to stop forgetting how cool you are. It’s annoying.”

“Thanks, Buffy, I just hope my soulmate understands my annoying… ness.”

“That was a joke—“

He gasped, shooting up with wide eyes. “What if I annoy them too much and that’s why they push me? What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

“Cyrus, I’m fairly certain that you would never be destined to spend your life with a total jerk. You may be weird, but that’s why soulmates love us, dummy. That’s why we love you.”

The two exchanged a smile, and Buffy reached around to squeeze his hand with her comforting smile.

“You’ll know when you see them anyway, because that’s like the whole thing. So… I don’t know. Maybe the push will be an accident or something. If it helps, I’ll personally remove the toenails if anyone who messes with you.”

“Well, I think,” Andi interjected like the voice of God from above, staring at the pair from her position of power on Cyrus’ couch. “You should stop worrying about something completely inevitable. It’s coming, like it or not.”

The boy let out a yelp and rubbed furiously at the goosebumps blooming on his skinny arms. “You didn’t have to phrase it like that, Andi!”

“Seriously,” Buffy agreed, eyes wide and unfocused. “Yikes.”

“It shouldn’t be scary. You two should really trust yourselves more. Future us will all make good decisions, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Probably.”

She leaned over to look down at her two best friends, reduced to frightened messes at the thought of someone who loved them, and deeply did not understand.

“I trust future Andi, at least. You two are weird.”

She stuck a bookmark made of old newspapers into the John Green book she was skimming, one of Bex’s favorites. She’d explained earlier about how since her older sister would be coming to visit her for the first time in practically forever, she had better know something about what she liked. Although from her various annoyed growls that echoed from above every once in a while, her friends could tell Andi’s tastes maybe differed from the latter’s.

“Real life isn’t that dramatic! Certainly isn’t as dramatic as this Augustus”—she gesticulated to the paperback copy—“thinks it is! What’s even going on in this book?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, setting the book down by the lamp.

“Yeah, whatever.” Buffy turned to look doubtfully over her left shoulder at her other best friend, from the spot on the calming maroon carpet where Cyrus was French-braiding her curls. “If you think all this soulmate crap will be totally drama-free, all relaxation and games, Andi, you’re kidding yourself. And it’s middle school.”

“You might want to rethink your position here,” agreed Cyrus, twirling a lock dastardly between his fingers.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen as butter filled the warm air, clashing with the rosy scent of the aromatherapy stuff Celia insisted on spraying everywhere before anyone else entered the house, even though it was just Buffy and Cyrus. They’re very well-behaved, Andi would always say, even though one was now swatting like a kitten at the other. True friendship.

“Stop that! Grow your own facial hair so you can stop using mine!”

“Low blow,” Andi commented.

“Never!” He fell backwards onto the carpet with a grunt as she attacked him with her fringe scarf, smacking her opponent with swift malice. Andi got up to go get their popcorn from the microwave, hopping easily over the destructive swarm of thrashing limbs on her floor.

The two broke apart, close to the door now. Like wrestlers, the kids sprinted to either corner of the room.

“Every time! This is why I don’t let you braid my hair, Cyrus!”

“You underestimate me! Now I have a secret weapon!”

A shadow rushed forward and cackled menacingly, a beautifully stitched pillow in shades of pink and red held aloft to decimate his friend.

“No! Bad Cyrus!” Andi scolded from the kitchen. “I made that for Bex!”

“This isn’t a Western!” Buffy yelled, hands up in surrender. “You aren’t going to tie Andi to the train tracks, no more!”

Cyrus pouted mutely, savoring the power, then conceded mercifully. “Ohhh-kay.”

“Maybe that’s why your soulmate will push you,” Buffy laughed. “You attack them, viciously, in a war of pillows.”

His face fell again, the weight of worry and insecurities returning instantly.

“Dammit.” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I will... I’d demolish them, anyway.”

The three collapsed onto the couch together once Andi returned, mutely chewing their popcorn, their feathery Cold War forgotten. They could still hear cicadas outside. It didn’t quite feel like school yet, and something about that made the night seem more important, more meaningful, and made them all the more grateful for the other people who they felt like they could tell anything.

“Soulmates are weird to think about, though,” Andi added. “I mean, it’s not something you can teach in school or anything. How one person is made for another. I think it’s pretty crazy. Although I bet Augustus and Hazel would disagree.”

“Yeah, love’s simple until you think about— like— what if they die before you meet them?” Cyrus said, the years’ worth of anxiety seeping into his words. “Assuming it isn’t a fate thing. What if you’re the first one to prove it wrong? Or… you don’t know if you like that type of person?”

“Well,” Buffy chimed in, shrugging. “I mean, people always do, so…”

The trio fell quiet.

“Like soulmates or not, we can agree the marks are freaky as hell?”

“Absolutely.”

“At least you don’t have your mark in as weird a place as me.”

“Buffs, yours is on your hand. That’s not that weird.” Cyrus reached over her back to lightly touch the white splash of color across her right palm, and she jerked it away fast as if she was scared of it going off like a bomb. “High-fives happen all the time.”

“I know, but why would future me let anyone touch my hand? That’s not allowed!” She shivered dramatically. “Ugh. Can you imagine me all… stupid and love-struck? That would be remarkably awful.”

“Middle school,” Cyrus said, nodding sagely. “It changes all who experience it.”

“Well,” Andi whispered, suddenly solemn. “I guess we’ll find out if it changes us too.”

“Guess we gotta trust that the Future Good Hair Trio will make good choices. Soulmates or otherwise.”

The three looked around.

“At least we’ll have each other. No matter who comes, we’ll at least have each other.”