#borrow it and holding power over them because there's no place to escape to except for another person who owns their shit :)

[iknowicanbutwhy]

12 hour shifts should be illegal. Holy hell.

[shyficwriter]

I've Got You

Guardians of the Galaxy Fanfic | Reader x Guardians (Yondu is alive)

Summary: After you never let anyone else listen to your music Rocket and the guys decide they want to see what potentially embarrassing songs you have on your music player, but find something else entirely.

Author's Note: ANGST! This story does NOT have a happy ending, or an ending at all really. It may be funny at the start but it's all angst at the end and it'll make you cry. Proceed with caution. This isn't even a joke- it gets heavy. I was going through some stuff... If you think this might trigger anything for you at all, skip this one.

Content Warning: Mentions of suicide/depression.

Word Count: 2,508

You didn't mind sharing with the rest of the gang. You really didn't. You'd share your clothes with Mantis, your food with Groot, and your books with Drax. There was very little you didn't share, except for one thing, and that was your music player.

Anytime someone would occasionally ask to borrow it you would always make up an excuse, usually: "Nah, you wouldn't like my music." and that was usually that for a little while. But, of course, eventually someone would ask again and you'd have to make the same excuses over again. Once you even told Peter it was all accordion music so he'd stop asking to compare playlists. That worked for a bit, until a week later you forgot you had told him that and said how much you hated accordion music when the topic of Polka was brought up. Oops. Well, there went that excuse.

One day was different, however.

You were walking in Peter's ship, minding your own business with your headphones in when Rocket motioned to you. He was sitting at a table with Groot. You paused your player and removed one of your earbuds. "What's up?"

"Groot was trying to ask if he could listen with you. but of course you had your volume up like always."

"You're going to damage your hearing if you keep that up," said Gamora, sitting on the other side of the room with Drax.

You ignored her, turning your attention back to Rocket. "Oh. I don't think that's a good idea.." you said with a wince, feeling bad for having to tell the little guy 'no.' Other than Mantis, he was the one you always felt the most guilty saying 'no' to. Those puppy-dog eyes were killer.

Rocket eyed you suspiciously. "Why? Quill lets him do it all the time?"

He was right. Peter did let little Groot listen to music with him quite often. But you weren't Peter.

Peter startled you when he came up from behind you with Yondu, saying, "Yeah, you're weirdly possessive of that thing. It won't hurt to let him have a listen."

'It might.' you thought. "He might be better off listening to your music, we already know he likes that."

"What's wrong with yers?" Yondu asked, who agreed with Peter about the weirdly possessive thing. You barely ever let that thing out of your sight.

You tried to think of something, "It's uh, not really appropriate..."

Yondu chuckled, "Are ya trying to say ya have dirty songs on that player of yers?"

You blushed. That's not exactly where you were going with that, but if it works... "I'd just say my music isn't exactly, uh.. kid friendly."

Your blush only made it more convincing that this whole time you had been hiding embarrassing music on your device. Rocket raised an eyebrow in amusement and Peter laughed too. "There's no way I'm gonna believe you have dirty songs on there. Let me see." he said, moving to reach for your music player.

You quickly put it in your pocket. "Nope! Bye." you said, turning on your heels and making your way to leave the ship, glad you were docked on a planet as it gave you an escape. "Gonna go head out for a walk, be back soon!"

Peter looked slightly disappointed, but let you go.

Once you were gone Rocket spoke up. "You know, I think I know a way how we can sneak a listen to what she's got that's so secret on there," he said, smirking. "Ya know, if you want..."

Yondu and Peter shared a glance before looking over at Gamora, sure she'd reject the idea in favor of your privacy. Surprisingly, she nodded in agreement.

"I have to admit, now I'm curious too." Gamora said with an almost embarrassed shrug.

And with that it was settled. Rocket told them his plan.

***

The next day when you went to retrieve your music player from your nightstand drawer, it was there as expected. However, when you went to power it on nothing happened.

You groaned, walking out into the common area to look for Peter. Once you found him you asked if he had any spare batteries, only to be disappointed when he didn't.

"Although," Peter said, "If you're gonna walk down to the store to get some I'll transfer you some units to bring back a case of soda."

You agreed to bring him back some soda, but told him not to worry about the units as you headed out the door, having been convinced to take little Groot with you last minute. You never could resist those little eyes of his.

The team waited a few moments to make sure you weren't coming back for anything before telling Rocket to make his hasty trip to go get your music player from your room.

Your batteries hadn't died, Rocket had just quietly replaced them with dead ones while you were sleeping. He switched them back once he got back to where the rest of the team had gathered around the table.

Rocket grinned, thinking he was about to hit the jackpot on embarrassing secrets from you. "What do ya think it is?" he asked, handing the player to Peter. "I bet it's boy-bands."

Peter powered on the player and snickered. "What if it's that Justin Bieber guy that was always on the radio when we went to Terra?"

"Oh, he was awful. I would also be embarrassed to be caught willfully listening to his music." Drax said.

"I dunno, I still kinda think she's got dirty songs on there," Yondu laughed. "Ya saw how she blushed."

Peter rolled his eyes and began scrolling through your playlists. He raised an eyebrow. "I hardly recognize any of these songs." he said. "The only ones I recognize are ones I've already got on mine."

"Let me see," offered Kraglin. "I know more Xandarian songs, maybe they're some of those?" He scrolled for a bit before as Peter got up to grab something from a trunk behind him.

Peter sat back down and Kraglin handed the player back, shaking his head. "I don't recognize them either. Maybe they're Terran?"

"We'll see." Peter said, plopping the device he got from the trunk on the table and plugging it into the player. It was a speaker. "Here, now we can all hear it. Which one should I try first?"

"What's in her 'Recent's' list?" Gamora asked.

"First one says "Stay Alive," Peter says, "Oh! I actually think I know that one. My grandad used to listen to it, it's so old!" he laughed. "I didn't expect her to be into disco music though..." Peter hit play and as the lyrics came out he realized he was mistaken. "Oh... that's... That's not the song I thought it was at all..." he said in surprised concern.

♫♩"... Stay alive, stay alive For better days to come around.

When nothing is right in your head And all of your tears are shed I know how it seems, you're in this too deep But take it from me, it's not the end..." ♫♩

"Um..." Peter swiped to play a new, hopefully less depressing, song.

♫♩"Do you ever feel like breaking down? Do you ever feel out of place?" ♫♩

Nope. Peter swiped again.

♫♩"All day starin' at the ceilin' makin' Friends with shadows on my wall All night hearing voices tellin' me That I should get some sleep Because tomorrow might be good for somethin' Hold on, feelin' like I'm headed for a breakdown And I don't know why" ♫♩

Peter furrowed his brow. The others shared concerned glances, but didn't say anything. He swiped again.

♫♩"It's caving in around me What I thought was solid ground I tried to look the other way But I couldn't turn around" ♫♩

*Swipe*

♫♩"Hello darkness my old friend..." ♫♩

Peter could already tell it was another depressing song, he backed out of the screen into the list of recently played songs seeing titles like: "Nightmare," and "I'm not okay (I promise)," and unfortunately more bluntly: "Don't try Suicide." They listened to a few more songs, and they were all depressing. You did have happier songs on your music player, but your "Recents" list was full of much more depressing songs, as if that's all you had listened to for a long time.

Nobody was smiling anymore, Rocket looked like he was sorry he came up with this idea. Even Drax clearly understood that they hadn't discovered anything good.

Yondu's expression was hard, "Well, I don't like this at all."

"I think we made a mistake." Mantis said, concern painting her features.

"But... she always seems so... ok?" Rocket said, his ears lowered. You were his friend. His prank buddy. He had no idea. "Do you really think...she, you know...?"

"I don't know? I mean, do you think she'd really not say anything if she was hurting this much? Wouldn't Mantis at least have picked up on it?" Peter asked. He looked over at Mantis expectantly.

"I can only feel other's emotions if I touch them," she started, "and... she's never actually let me touch her."

"What should we do?" asked Gamora.

***

You walked in a few minutes later to just catch the last bit of Peter saying something about having a talk with you.

"Have a talk with me about what?" you asked.

It was clear you had startled them, Gamora having spun to face you upon hearing you speak up, and she almost never got startled.

You chuckled, walking nearer the table to place your grocery sack on it. Groot hopped off your shoulder to run across the table to Rocket. "Oh gosh, I didn't mean to scare you guys! I got the soda you asked for- ...what's that?" Your demeanor changed from almost cheery to nervous, the blood draining from your face when you saw what was very clearly your music player plugged into a speaker. Your eyes shot to Peter, the one closest to your device. "Peter? What the fuck?"

"It was Rocket's idea!" Peter exclaimed, his guilt having managed to trip his self-preservation switch.

Rocket didn't even try to deny it. He looked at the ground, "I thought it'd be funny..." he muttered. Groot looked at him in confusion. His friend usually never looked sorry for anything.

You snatch your player from the table. It was currently off, leading you to believe there might have been a chance they didn't listen yet. "Boundaries!" you scold, putting the player in your pocket. "Seriously uncool!"

You went to turn around but you bumped into Yondu who had walked around the table while you were scolding Peter.

"Sit." he said, his face stony.

You look up at him in surprise before Gamora spoke up. "We... listened to the songs you had on your player... We just want to talk."

You just stare at her for a moment. "Seriously guys, what the fuck?!" you say, your tone exasperated and your eyebrows knitted together. "You know what? No. I don't want to talk. I'm going back out."

Yondu grabbed your arm as you tried to push past him. "No. Yer gonna sit." with that he walked you to the nearest open chair and made you sit. His tone wasn't angry, but it was firm.

You felt knots tying in your stomach. Gamora spoke again.

"Look, we're sorry we took your music player without asking, but now that we have, we're concerned."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. No. No no no. "I literally told you guys so many times-"

"I know," Peter said, "but please... Just- we need to know if you're ok."

"Of course I'm ok!" you lied. "Why would I not be ok?!"

"Cut the crap." Kraglin said. His tone didn't seem angry either, it almost seemed sad. "I seriously doubt you'd be listening to all that depressing stuff if you were actually ok."

You attempt to stand again, saying, "Look just screw off-" before you were silenced by Yondu firmly pushing down on your shoulder to stop you.

"Look, we care about ya, ya lil' shit, and we ain't about to just let ya keep suffering if yer hurtin."

That tore something in you.

"Please- guys." You clenched your jaw and looked at the floor. No. Fuck. Not right now. "Just-" You inhaled sharply. Dammit. You were not about to start crying right now. You screwed your eyes shut, before covering your face when you realized that wasn't going to stop the tears and not wanting them to see. "Fuck!"

It all flooded you. All the hurt. All the pain. The hopelessness. The humiliation of the current situation. The guilt of your friends worrying about you. The numbness shattering as white hot pain tore through your soul. You felt what you thought was Gamora putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and you tried to hold back a sob as every bad thought you had about yourself came flooding in. You started to shake, feeling shame as memories of thoughts about ending it all leaked out your eyes. How many nights you had stood in front of the airlock weighing whether that night would finally be the night you pushed that button.

From behind you you heard a strangled cry. A cry of pure anguish. It was only then you realized the hand on your shoulder couldn't have been Gamora's. It had come from behind you. She had been standing in front of you. You quickly jerk forward and turn around in your seat, wrenching yourself from Mantis's hand- but it was too late.

Mantis nearly doubled over, hands clawed into her chest as a sob lodged itself in her lungs. She had only wanted to make you feel better. She wasn't expecting the torrent to flood into her so forcefully, hadn't realized this wasn't something she could just make go away with her abilities. She had felt everything.

The others looked at her with wide, startled eyes. Drax pulled her in and held her, not really knowing what to do but trying to make the hurt go away. Poor little Groot didn't understand what was happening, and Rocket held him so he couldn't see. Peter and Gamora shared an alarmed glance.

You were speechless. You could only stare in horror witnessing what you- or rather your pain- had done to her. "Mantis-" was all you could manage, not knowing what else to say. You barely noticed your tears now started flowing freely down your cheeks. You stood up to run away, but just like every other time you had tried, Yondu stopped you. Only this time he pulled you tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were a newborn.

"Girl, why didn't you tell us?" you heard him say softly.

You allowed yourself to be held, not realizing until that very moment just how badly you had needed to be. Fresh sobs broke from you and you buried your face into his chest when he said, "Shh now, little girl, I've got you."

[obsidian-chika]

Zhongli x Male Reader

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

┲━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┱

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 . . .

┺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┹

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

It was a typical day in Liyue Harbor. The sun was out, shining down on the people. The breeze of the sea circulating through the harbor. People working, families spending time with each other. The atmosphere seem warm and welcoming to any new comers.

Not everything is as it seems to be. There was a darker part of the harbor. After many centuries after Rex Lapis's death, along with Osial's resurrection and defeat, there was a ceremony. Being performed due to a sprit that haunted the Golden House. It was rumored that the spirit is the ghost of Rex Lapis. The spirit haunted the place according to locals.

Families feared for the lives of their children. Male or female, if the name of a family was chosen, they needed to have one out of all their children to be the bride or groom for the spirit. Families with one child feared that part the most. Anyone that was married off in the ceremony, never came back out, alive.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

There was a boy. His family was great when looked at by other people in the harbor. Well manner, kind, giving, caring, but the never knew how things were behind the doors. Ruthless parents. They were strict with every aspect, if anything was done against them, a beating was in for the child.

There was also favoritism. All the other siblings were favored over (M/n). His parents thought of him as a disgrace to the family name, an unwanted child, a mistake. Some of his elder siblings payed no mind because in their household, no one had more power than the parents. If their parents said something, it was to go through and happen, or else there will be consequences for disobedience behavior.

Even if they pitied the younger sibling, nothing could be done. Even the servants pitied him, but nothing could be helped. Their parents ruled everything. No one could step out of line without punishment. He wanted comfort, but could not seek comfort. Being kept in the darkness most of his life. Constantly being put down by his parents.

Nothing. No one. Lonely and isolated, he lived. No matter what he did to try and please his parents, nothing worked. They never seemed satisfied with his efforts. Whether it was his studies, or helping others. Even with his advanced arts in using the lance (pole arm) at the age of 10 and his catalyst abilities he soon developed, nothing. He was nothing in their eyes, only a waste that needs to be kept to uphold their image.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Not too long after passing the age of 13, he stopped all efforts to try and please his so call parents. His only goal now was to working for himself. For the things he can do in the future without being bother and judged.

He also did something that would ruin the image of his parents if his deeds were ever found out. No doubt he would get a terrible beating from them if they knew.

He also felt an odd attraction to a place. A place everyone feared. Pronouncing the place as haunted with the spirit of Rex Lapis. During late hours of the night, where shops were closed, families spending time with each other, and people retiring for the night. All except one, he made sure that it seemed like he was sleeping. Sometimes for extra caution, he would make a water illusion before leaving home.

Sneaking off to the Golden House became more normal as he grew. His parents' attitude towards him never changed for the better. His siblings and servants can only watch as he grows more stoic, while the people love him but question why he's like that with such great and loving parents.

He would spend late hours of the night at the Golden House. There was so much mora in the place, but he never wanted it. He only there for the feeling of comfort it gave it. A break from his so called lovely household. Some of the servants have caught and seen him sneak out at late hours, but said nothing. They would cover for him if his parents ever asked why he wasn't at breakfast in the morning. Saying that he headed out early for commissions or to help around the harbor. He was very surprised to find out they covered for him sneaking out, but nonetheless he was grateful to them for having his back when he didn't return for the night.

There were days where he spend all his time at the Golden House. It also satisfied him being there. Reading, sleeping, honing his skills in the arts, planning out future adventures and explorations. Any time spent there was treasured deeply by the young male. Even if the place was haunted like what the people have said, he didn't care. It made him feel safe and at peace, which was all he ever wanted.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Tonight was like most nights. Heading out for the night, towards the Golden House. He easily slipped pass the guards, hiding in the shadows and using one of his elemental abilities to travel as water. Appearing inside of the place, he lets out a sigh of content and happiness. Heading to the center back of the place, dropping his bag, along with taking a seat on the floor right after.

He stared out at his surroundings. As if it was his first time in the forbidden place. Pulling out a book he borrowed, he focused his attention on it. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the place. While reading, one of his hands held the book while the other took hold of his vision. He always wondered about his vision and it's element of choice.

He never minded being able to manipulate hydro, he just wondered why he even had a vision. He never thought of his actions as impressive, helping, or achieving in any way. Always seeing his actions as average or not even enough, he sought out to help people around the harbor because he couldn't seem to please his parents. Helping around the harbor gave his a better sense of freedom from his restricted household.

Finishing up a chapter, he set the book down. Standing up to stretch, he summoned his lance. Practice. Train. Get stronger. Be better. He always said those things to himself. Always wanting to improve. Testing and pushing his limits. People in the harbor truly admired the young boy. Helping around the harbor, yet still being able to hone his own abilities, skills, and talents to the max.

With heavy breaths, he put the spear away. Slowly regaining his breathe, he looked around. The golden color of the place. The casing of Rex Lapis close to where all his belongings were. Feeling the design of the pillar he was next to. The design of the place always was something that fascinated him. It was beautiful in his eyes. No matter what people said about the place, he will always love it. Even if he died, this place did him better than his home.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Picking up his book once again, he resumed his reading. Slowly getting tired, and falling asleep while leaning on one of the pillars. Soundlessly asleep he was as someone watched him. Never knowing about their presence, but they knew about him. Watching him through the years after the first time he entered the place. Never in a million years did they think someone would come to the place as an escape from home, instead of being the one chosen as the ghost bride or groom.

This person would listen to the male while he rambled on about his life, thinking no one was in there with him. This person wasn't really a person. They were a spirit, also known as a ghost. They're the ghost of the deceased Geo Archon, Rex Lapis. His spirit never fully left, as for the reason in doing so, even he doesn't not know. See the civilization change as a spirit was something interesting to him.

Not knowing what he can do for the male, he watched the male grow as time passed. Listening to the said male when he talked to himself, discussing the events that happened, or something that's on his mind. He didn't want to leave this world just yet. Wanting to wait till the male grew a bit older, or got married. He watched the male, and waited.

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⨾

𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⨾

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

As rain started to fall, that time of the year slowly approached the people of Liyue.

Parents hoping their children won't be the ones to be sent off.

The ceremony was soon to begin for the people.

No matter where that are, what the family does, if they were chosen, they would have to be sent off.

No one could run away from it.

As much as some families have pleaded in the past, the outcome was all the same.

Sent off with nothing to return with beside a corpse of the chosen.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Thanks for reading, hoped you enjoyed.

See you next time.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)

Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.

Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.

Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.

He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.

Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.

Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.

This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.

Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.

Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.

Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.

Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.

But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.

She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.

Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.

They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.

Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?

Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.

He can die afterwards.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four

Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.

Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.

Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.

And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.

Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)

It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.

But she loves him too anyway.

Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.

It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.

He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.

Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.

That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.

He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.

Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.

Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.

Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.

Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.

Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.

I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.

Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.

He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.

He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.

There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.

But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.

She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.

He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.

No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.

No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.

Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.

Until the very last moment.

Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.

Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.

No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.

Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.

But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.

Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.

But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.

Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.

Conclusion

God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.

Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.

In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.

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[themilky-way]

it’s been a long time {b.barnes}

gif credit: disastrouspan

pairing: bucky barnes x fem! reader

summary: he came home to find fragments of his past, leading him to confess his most prized emotion. based on this ask. 

warnings: bucky kissing because that’s hot as fuck lmao

author’s note: a small ficlet bc i miss the mf 40s (except i’d be in the kitchen 😔) and sergeant barnes

----------

from the moment bucky crossed the threshold of his home, his mind didn’t know in which direction to run. the dim lighting was provided by the small fairy lights adorning the corners of his ceiling, casting faint shadows across his beaming face. vintage images decorated every wall, and they had been so neatly placed, so politely organized that it caused chills to rise on his skin. his gaze lingered a while on the printed photos, and when he stepped closer to observe them individually, he noticed a few were of him. an antique poster from his war days brought flashbacks of a simpler decade (to him, at least) and he wondered where exactly you could’ve dug that out from. a scratched polaroid of him in his army uniform was next in line. the soldier was standing in between his pre-serum best friend, languid and all, and a pretty little lady. he recalled the memory: right before christmas, and enlisting back in the army, they’d gone to view a premiere. steve had begged him to stay a few more minutes, or hours if he could, but bucky barnes had been different back then. there was no way in hell he’d pass up an opportunity with a woman like that.

the recollection brought a smile to his lips, and when he refocused his vision to keep admiring your work, he came face to face with his mother’s record player. the device was spinning a solid black vinyl, playing a lovely tune from her favorite, ella fitzgerald. his mind was obscure enough now that he couldn’t remember which song it was, but he closed his eyes to absorb the melodies as best he could. bucky skimmed the stack of discs laying beside the machine with his fingertips, noticing a few albums belonged to steve. he chuckled at finding his beloved harry james record sitting there, and the idea that he’d even let you borrow it deepened his humor. 

when he was done snooping around your newfound collection, bucky’s feet led him further down his hall. if he was going to be truly honest with himself, he rather enjoyed your tiny hidden treasures. granted, to him they were huge in valor, so it was a neat surprise seeing them all gathered together. 

his last, but most certainly not least, halt was before his wooden coffee table. on its surface rested a framed photograph of you and him at one of tony’s gatherings, and by god did it make him lose his mind. scattered pieces of that night entered his brain, the only thing grounding him being the soft, tranquil jazz resonating from behind. a silky gown had once concealed bucky’s source of desire, and his artificial hand had at one point touched the small of your back, as the photo suggested. to the devil of a man, that had been the evening he’d realized this innocent, frail human-you-had enveloped his heart; and when his imaginative state cowered down again, he discovered one of his old dog tags, making him putty in your hands yet again. 

despite the gradual thinning of his cold veil, he reminisced every second of his life by touching his encrypted name and year: james buchanan barnes. 1925-

had time passed so quickly? was he still under the ice? all this-had it been a lucid dream of some sort? for a fraction of a second, bucky shifted into a different time, into a different reality. one where you didn’t even exist yet, where you’re parents weren’t even a part of still. only his profound knowledge of your love for him was real, and by seeing that throughout all this time he’d been deprived of you, he found he didn’t miss his past-any of it. 

“hell, bucky-you scared me.” a calming hand ran to lay over your panting chest. your eyes were gleaming in their most distinguishable form, the curve of your lips releasing a frantic laugh. 

yet, all the soldier did-or could do-was stand as rigid as a rock. every dictionary in the world didn’t hold enough terms that he could voice. his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth, and his hands curled and opened in a hopeless attempt at touching you. within the furthest depths of bucky’s consciousness, he envisioned his calloused hands hoisting you up, just enough for your tippy toes to release from the ground, and pulling you in as close as friction let him. to hug you was all he wanted. to praise you were all his lips longed to do. standing before him, with an elegant gown from his era, all “dolled” up as his old self would phrase it, he couldn’t resist.

“do you need me to get you some wat-” a question cut off by his lips. it was feverish from the minute his mouth connected to yours, moving as if he’d never merely kissed anybody. he surely wasted no time in slipping his tongue in to scavenge for your own, and when he did, there was no escaping his power. conquered by his impulses, he sucked on it gently at first, but your sweet moan sprung deep from your throat, and there was nothing stopping him then. 

“i’m definitely not complaining or anything, but is everything alright?” the inquiry came with meager breaths. “do you have a fever?”

compared to his, a petite palm reached to cover his forehead in hopes of identifying a scalding heat, flipping it once or twice like you’d been taught.

“i love you,” bucky abruptly blurted. his emotions betrayed him, yet he wasn’t mad about it-not this time. 

“yeah, you totally have a fev-”

his real hand lifted to cover yours and bring it back down to hover above his slightly raw, pink lips. “no-i-god,” he paused. “i love you.”

baby blues threatened to spill when the back of your skin met his mouth. he kissed it as passionately as he’d done to you, and when you muttered it back, the hands on every clock in brooklyn stopped. 

“more than i adore you? oh honey, that’s simply not possible.”

[kermitbread]

help

was this unnecessary? yes. am I going insane? probably. pls send hananene I'm dying

How did it get to this? Nene asked the same question over and over in her mind, as she sat still on unknown territory. It had water on the ground, so she could still identify it as a boundary.

It was a dark, rather dim looking boundary. Human bones were scattered around the ground, like someone deliberately piled them in one place and kept them there. And to make matters worse...

"Ah! It's Amane's assistant!"

The dreaded little brother of the Honorable No. 7 was also stuck with her.

How did it happen? She had no idea. All she remembered was she was with Hanako, trying to get rid of a rampaging apparition, then blacking out.

Shuddering at the sight of Tsukasa, it didn't really help that she was also sitting on human skeletons. Look, everything on the fear meter was cranked up to a maximum whenever he was there. The complete opposite of how she felt when Hanako was around.

Unfortunately, he shared the same face as his brother, so it surely did not make anything much better for poor Nene.

Well, it was better than being alone in a creepy boundary, at least.

"H-how did we get here?" She tried to speak to the boy, hoping he would settle for some civil conversation. Tsukasa tilted his head at her for a second, scratching his cheek.

"Hmm... dunno!" He cheerfully replied, with a big smile to top that. Nene sighed. She expected that answer sooner or later, especially from him.

She stood up, but a sudden pain forced her to sit back down quickly. She felt the pain sear on her right ankle. For some reason, she had sprained it, not too badly, but it hurt enough to make her back down.

Guess fear made her forget a lot of things.

"Geez... how are we supposed to get out of here?" Squinting her eyes, she tried to get any glimpse of a way out to the boundary, but all she got was a sea of darkness and more bones.

Honestly speaking, her leg hurt, everything was scary, and there was no sign of escape.

Everything's gonna be fine! Hanako-kun will come! He always does! It's just about a matter of time before he arrives!

Kept in her thoughts, she didn't notice Tsukasa making his way next to her, squatting down with his hands on his knees, eyes boring directly at her.

Nene flinched when his palm went to her cheek, and to her utter shock, his touch was surprisingly gentle. If it weren't for the intimidating stare he was giving her right now, it would have felt like it was Hanako and not Tsukasa.

"W... What is it?" Her voice was a little shaky.

"You're crying." Was his simple answer. She touched her other cheek, feeling the wetness travel down her skin.

Since when did she start crying?

"So...?" Nene struggled to form words, but it was rather hard when Tsukasa was invading her space by leaning even closer to her.

"That guy told me I'm supposed to be nice to girls. So," He put on that smile, moving his hand up to her head and pat her. "Everything will be okay! Yeah!"

She blinked owlishly, mouth parted open at his actions. It reminded her of their encounter back in the Mirror Hell, except it ended up with Tsukasa making her faint, which she rather not let it happen again.

If only he didn't look like Hanako-kun! I'm somehow scared of him, but at the same time I'm not! What's going on with you, Nene?!

A rumbling noise made her jump, and the ground beneath her began to shake. The bones rattled against the water, as the rumbling was replaced with loud stomping coming closer, accompanied by a ringing noise that was irritating to the ear.

To her horror, a gigantic skeleton appeared from the shadows, on a rampage. Its bony hands crushed the skulls underneath, roaring at an extreme volume.

While Nene stared on with fear, Tsukasa seemed... oddly delighted at the sight. Well, when was he not happy?

"Uwaah! It's an odokuro! I've always wanted to see one!"

"Y-you know what this is, Tsukasa-kun?" She trembled, looking back at the boy.

"Yeah! I heard they're indestructible. They take humans and gobble their heads up! Pretty cool, right?"

Not cool. Not cool at all. Nope.

The odokuro swiped a long arm around the boundary, as Nene squinted her eyes shut, preparing for impact. Not until she felt her body being lifted up from the mass of bones and suddenly—

"Hey, hey!" Tsukasa spoke next to her, and she opened her eyes, almost letting out a gasp. They were in the air, a few meters away from the giant skeleton, and he was carrying her princess style.

And if Nene was being honest, the heights they were on right now... didn't really help. Those sharp rib bones stuck out on the ground like spikes on a floor. A fall from that height would mean instant peril.

"Wait a moment! I might fall!" She unknowingly clung closer to him, not even noticing his eyes go wide at that. His attention, however, went back to the odokuro, who was scouring through the bones looking for them.

He smiled darkly.

"Oi, odokuro!" He waved a hand at the skeleton, getting its attention. "I got a tasty human for you! Come and get it!"

"Tsukasa-kun!" Nene screamed, and Tsukasa merely laughed at her face of pure terror. The skeleton screeched and started to make its way to them, the ground shaking at it's every step.

"I'm just kidding!" Sending out his kokujoudai, he lifted an arm forward, right in front of the odokuro. "Besides, I don't think Amane would like his assistant dead just yet!"

Nene didn't even have the chance to blink. The black will-o-wisps went in a flash, and in an instant, the skeleton shattered, destroying it completely.

She turned her head at Tsukasa, who was just staring ahead, not meeting her in the eye. The extent of his power never ceased to frighten her. Well, it was to be expected, he did manage to defeat a School Mystery IN their boundary back then.

But it bothered how he didn't hesitate to save her from the skeleton. Probably because of his attachment to Hanako, but Nene knew there was probably something more to that. Doing a favor for him? Or was he the one asking for a favor? Was she overthinking right now?

"Aww, it broke so easily! What a bummer." He sounded pouty, like a child who had broken their favorite toy. Descending down back on the ground, he poked at the remains of the odokuro with his kokujoudai, as if he was expecting for it to move.

"Oh well! Another one will come around soon!"

"Another one?! Not another one!" It was too much. She hid her face on his chest, not wanting to have to look at yet another giant skeleton approaching. She didn't care if this was Tsukasa, she was NOT having any of it!

"Hanako-kun, where are you..." She mumbled timidly, the tears starting to build up again. This whole situation was a mess. One, big, ridiculous mess. And on top of that, her leg still hurt like shit.

Tsukasa blinked, not expecting this sort of thing to happen. Here he was, standing, carrying that radish-legged assistant of his twin brother, who was currently crying onto his shirt. Oh, and did he mention she smelled good? Like, REALLY good?

(a/n: smh tsukasa always getting sidetracked with things he has a low attention span)

He promptly plopped himself in a sitting position, having Nene practically on his lap. She was too busy bawling her eyes out to notice, though, but she did flinch when he put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head to him, forcing her to meet him in the eye.

Teary-eyed, cheeks red. In his opinion, it was a good look for her.

"You're such a crybaby. Amane's assistant is such a crybaby." He commented like it was the funniest thing in the world. Nene mustered up a glare, forgetting that he could probably snap her neck in seconds.

"I have a name, you know."

Tsukasa looked up at the air, pretending to think, before turning back to her with a proud smile. "Can I call you radish legs then?"

"No!"

"Fish girl?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then..." His eyes narrowed, and he almost looked like a predator out for the kill. "Nene?"

"...Eh?" She couldn't say another word at that. First name basis already? They weren't exactly friends, though.

"Amane calls you Yashiro, so I get to call you Nene!"

"Uh... s-sure." Nene just went along with it. Who knows what kind of crazy stuff would happen if she refused one more time.

"Ouch!" A yelp escaped her mouth when she accidentally moved her right ankle across the ground, as it began to react strongly with pain. Tsukasa observed her whimpering for a few moments, before reaching out and holding her by the shoulders.

"Eh—what are you—"

"Giving you a present." He smirked, leaning forward and she felt his lips press against her cheek.

Her eyes went wide, her heart began to pound fast. What was he doing?! What was he doing—

He lingered there about a few more seconds before pulling away, looking quite proud at himself. "Nene's very clumsy! I gave you a protection charm because rescuing you again would be too much work."

Nene put her hand on the cheek he had apparently cast a spell on, staring at him. For a moment, it was like Hanako had been there with her.

Maybe Tsukasa wasn't so bad if he just tried to? Emphasis on "tried".

Footsteps crunching on the bones approached them, as finally, Hanako and Kou had arrived. "Yashiro!"

"Hanako-kun!" She called out, wanting to stand, but Tsukasa's hold on her was really tightening for some reason. He didn't say much as a word, just watching as his brother and the young exorcist came closer.

"Tsukasa! Let her go!" Hanako readied his knife as Kou put himself in a fighting stance. Nene looked at Tsukasa, and he shrugged.

"I was just having fun with Nene! Can't I borrow her for a little more, Amane?"

"What?!" Both her and Hanako simultaneously shouted. Tsukasa chuckled, and as if to tease them, he let his fingers through her hair, leaning down close to her, cheek to cheek.

"She smells really good, Amane. And she's really warm. So that's why you cling to her a lot. I kinda like it!" He nuzzled his cheek against hers, ignoring her stuttering protests.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Kou shouted, gripping on his staff tightly as it began to spark with lightning. Tsukasa pulled away from the poor girl and pouted childishly.

"Aww man. Well... okay. Only because Amane's probably gonna cry soon. I would have wanted to see that, but..." He got up from the boundary floor, calmly walking up to Hanako, and just putting her into his arms like putting a sack away.

Nene automatically clung to Hanako as he unknowingly sighed with relief. Overall, he just couldn't stand being apart for this long.

"It was fun playing with you, Nene! I'll be seeing you real soon!" Snapping his fingers, Tsukasa vanished along with his kokujoudai, leaving a trail of black smoke behind.

"We should get out of here, too. Let's go, kid."

--

"Hey, Yashiro." Hanako asked. He and Nene were in the school's infirmary, while Kou went to fetch the school nurse. Nene sat on the bed, trying not to move her hurting leg too much.

"Yeah?"

"What did... what did Tsukasa do? Did he hurt you?" He seemed to be really worried and scared, as she could now see through his tone. Putting a hand on top of his, she smiled at him.

"He didn't hurt me, Hanako-kun. He was surprisingly... nice. He saved me from that giant skeleton that appeared before you came."

"Oh." Was all he could say. Inwardly, he was a little jealous his little brother was the one who rescued her this time. And calling her by her first name?! Very unfair!

"Ah, and he... also... uh..." Nene shyly averted her eyes from him, as Hanako looked at her with curiosity. "He also gave me a protection charm, just like the one you gave me before."

He blinked. Protection charm. Protection charm. Protection char—

Wait.

Squinting his eyes, he noticed the faint outline of something on her skin, and he probably was now going to lose it very soon.

There, written in black, was the number seven. Tsukasa's own spell.

Hanako felt like a heavy anvil dropped on his head and crushed him.

And as if it weren't already worse enough, Tsukasa suddenly appeared out of nowhere, immediately tackling Nene from behind with a hug. "Nene!!"

"T-Tsukasa-kun?!"

"Did you like my present, Amane? Looks great, right?" He cheekily smirked at Hanako, who was now in the middle of snapping.

"WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" Hanako yelled angrily, as his twin laughed.

"Just because!"

"AND WHY WOULD YOU CALL HER BY HER FIRST NAME?!!"

"Only cuz you wouldn't! Right, Nene?" Tsukasa poked Nene on the cheek.

Nene tiredly sighed. It was too stressful to deal with this right now.

Things were going to get weird now, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that.

[thehollowprince]

So, I had this idea for a while now, starting back when I ranted about my dislike (hatred) for the Mikaelson Family and all the pain and misery they caused. One of the things I was always upset about was that Kaleb, the young man Kol was walking around in the body of for season two, was never really mentioned... ever. We got to see how Vincent and Cassie were affected by their possessions, but with Kaleb, it was like he never actually existed.

In season three, we had a throwaway line about the Ancestors attempting to use the that stone they used on Davina (to shred her soul) on Kol, only it didn't work. I figured that was a brilliant moment to show that Kaleb was an actual person who suffered immensely because an Original took his body and used it like his own.

Enjoy!

Lafayette No. 1, the legendary cemetery of New Orleans, located in the heart of the Garden District, and yet, even there, one could hear the celebration happening in the Quarter.  Weddings were a common affair, almost as much as Vegas, but what wasn't common in this particular case was the revelers.  Werewolves hadn't had a reason to celebrate in New Orleans for quite some time, but the union of two bloodlines and the shedding of an ancient curse was more than enough cause to celebrate. 

Just Desserts

In the cemetery, however, the mood was a bit more somber, as one would expect in a place where the dead are laid to rest.  

The handful of individuals in the cemetery this night weren't there to honor someone already dead, but to be with one of the living in their final moments on this plane before they shuffled off the mortal coil.  After all, how often was it that one of the legendary Mikaelsons died? 

Kol Mikaelson, though you wouldn't recognize him by looking at him, lay shivering on the cold stone of a mausoleum in his borrowed body, coughing up blood with more running from his nose.  Tears pooled in his eyes as he looked up at his siblings, the golden trio who never seemed to have room for him in their Always and Forever.  At his side, Davina held a set of prayer beads in her hands as she chanted away, channeling her considerable power in an attempt to save his life from the hex that was killing him.

Kol locked eyes with the brother they all feared at one point or another, so limitless was his rage during their long years together, and now found only sadness.

"All my life, all I ever wanted was for you lot to care about me." Kol said to the three of them.  Klaus, for his part, can barely hold back his tears.  Kol would habe laughed, except he was overcome by another coughing fit, blood and spittle escaping his mouth. 

Rebekah, though anyone who knew her previously wouldn't recognize her, rather in the same way they didn't recognize Kol or their other brother, Finn, looked horrified and quickly dropped to the ground next to her brother, unsure of how to comfort him.  Elijah, ever dapper in an expensive suit followed her lead, reaching out to run his baby brother's back as he hunched over in pain.  When Kol's coughing subsided, he leaned back and found his head resting in his sister's lap.  He reaches out and grabs Rebekah's arm as another spasm racks his body.

"Kol, listen to me. You don't have long. You're going to die." Rebekah managed to say through her own tears.  Kol, for his part, could no longer put on a brave face and let his own tears fall, clutching his sister's arm even tighter.  "But you will die a witch, and we will consecrate your body. You will join the ancestors of the French Quarter, and those spirits can be brought back. And, I promise you, brother, I will not leave this body until I find a way to bring you home."  Wasn't it ironic that the moment his siblings finally decided to act like family was when he was on death's door? 

Kol smiles, despite the excrutiating pain, but is soon overcome by his coughing.  Nearby, Davina finished whatever spell she'd been working on, and quickly crawls toward Kol to hand him the beads she'd been praying over.

"I tried a different spell," she said as she put the beads in his hand.  Kol lets the beads fall and clutches Davina's hand tightly with his own.

"It's okay." Kol assured her.  "I'm not scared."

Davina gave her best attempt at a smile, as unconvincing as it was, and Kol laughed before the hex finally overtook him.  A few spasms and a death rattle later and Kol lay dead in the arms of his sister, overlooked by his two brothers and next to the woman he'd apparently waited a thousand years to find.  With Kol's dead eyes staring heavenword, Davina broke down into sobs while the three Mikaelson siblings finally let their own tears flow.

Kol didn't know how long he existed in the dark, as time had no meaning here, in this place between life and death.  Logically, he knew they didn't consecrate him right away, as there was a certain amount of time that needed to pass first, but how much time, he didn't know.  He just remembered the excruciating pain while his siblings looked on in tears and then nothing.  Well, not nothing.  He did remember cursing Finn with his final thoughts, but after that total blackness.  One moment he was alive, then he was gone, and the next he was awake again.

He found himself in a tomb, possibly the same one he died in, but if he's being honest, they all kind of look the same.  The first thing he really noticed was that he felt different, stronger, more durable, and after he finally managed to get to his feet and assess himself, he realized that he was in his original body.

Kol snickered to himself.  His original body.  There was a joke in there somewhere. 

Exiting the tomb, he found himself in the same cemetery he'd died in, or a spiritual copy of it.  If this was the legendary Ancestral Plane, it wasn't much different from the Other Side, cold and dark and empty.  Well… almost empty.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow move around another tomb and knowing he was out of his element here, he decided to err on the side of caution. Turning in the opposite direction, he was startled by a face he hadn't seen in a hundred years, though, on account of being daggered for most of that time, it was only a few years to him.

Mary-Alice Claire.

"Hello, love." Kol said, switching to his default flirting mode whenever he saw a pretty bird.  "Long time no see."

"Not long enough." Mary-Alice said in return.

"But a most welcome suprise." Another feminine voice, lilting with a French-Creole accent, said from the shadows of the tombs.  From out of the darkness stepped another familiar figure, Mary-Alice's reluctant accomplice in Kol's machinations from the early twentieth century - Astrid Malchance. 

"Astrid." Kol said in greeting.  "You're not still sore about what happened a hundred years ago, are you?"  He was cautiously backing away.  He may be an Original Vampire and they might have only been two upstart witches, but that was a hundred years ago.  A century with the Ancestors was bound to increase their power.  Not to mention, he was on their turf.  The cards were stacked against him, and as big as his ego was, he wasn't Klaus.  He wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone.  Right now, his only goal was to survive until Rebekah found a way to bring him back.

"Why would I be upset?" Astrid asked, advancing as he retreated, a predatory smile on her face.  "You only left us to rot in a cage until death just so that you could get back at your brother."  Her smile was shark-like.  

"Good to know the past is in the past." Kol laughed nervously.  

"Water under the bridge."

"But if its all the same to you, I think I should get going." Kol turned to leave.

"What's the hurry?" Mary-Alice questioned, appearing in front of him before he even finished turning. "We have so much to catch up on… love." She said mockingly.  Astrid was circling him, flanking him in case he tried to make a run for it.

 "You don't want to do this." He threatened. 

"Oh, I think we do." A male voice said from behind him.  Kol spun around only to find himself, or more accurately, the version of him he'd been masquerading as for the past few months. 

Kaleb.

Kol ran through all his options in his head.  Out of all of his siblings, he liked to think that he was the most practical, and his current situation warranted two different responses.  Fight or flight, except he couldn't beat the witches here, in their place of power, not could he run from them, because he was bound here until Rebekah powered up enough to bring him back.  There was no way he could win this, so his only option was to try and talk his way out of it.  So he slapped on a smile and turned his charm up to eleven.

"No hard feelings, mate?"

The returned smile sent a shiver down his spine.

"Many hard feelings… mate."

Okay, fight it was.  Kol let his true face show, veins undulating under the skin around his eyes, which filled with blood while he flashed his fangs.  Mary-Alice and Astrid may have had a century here to learn from the Ancestors, but Kaleb was just as new to this place as he was.  Kol could take him, he was sure of it, and then run and hide.  Just as he started to charge, Kaleb held out his hand and channeled his Power.

Kol immediately felt pain like he hadn't felt since the Bennett witch used Expression on him in Mystic Falls.

Kaleb easily overpowered the Original, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw other witches emerge from the shadows between the tombs.  Kaleb kept advancing, keeping up the pressure until Kol was forced to his knees, only letting up when Mary-Alice and Astrid flanked him and placed their hands on his shoulders, anchoring him to the ground and preventing him from any escape.

Kaleb stepped back and grinned down at his captive.  "You paraded around in my body for months and then had the audacity to come to this place, our holy place, so that you could cheat death again?

"I didn't want to die." Kol growled. 

"You think any of us do?" Kaleb crouched down in front of Kol, looking him in the eye.  "How many of us have died because of the Mikaelson Family Feud?" 

"All my family's fault, not mine." Kol argued.  "Once my sister finds a way to save me, I'll be out of your hair, never to set foot in New Orleans again."

"Do you honestly think we're going to just sit back and watch you get unleashed on the world again?" Mary-Alice asked from his right shoulder. 

"Oh, mon cher, we have other plans for you." Astrid chimed in.  "A fate far worse than death awaits you."  Kaleb had stood back up to his full height and turned toward an elderly witch approaching him, a dark green, almost black, stone the size of a human heart with a vibrant green sigil etched into it resting in her hands.

"La Gemme Vital." The witch intoned, her voice deep.

"The Lifeblood Stone." Kaleb translated, taking the stone with reverence and turning back to the vampire that rode around in his body, stealing his life.  "With this, we're going to shred your soul into so many pieces that there won't be anything left of you for your wretched family to bring back."

Kol struggled hard at hearing those words, but he was helpless on the iron grip of his two former students.  Kaleb approached, the stone held outward, incanting the spell, the sigil growing brighter and brighter.  Around him, the other witches echoed the spell, and Kol could feel a coldness unlike anything he'd ever felt before seeping into his bones, as well as pain as the very symbol on the stone etched itself into his forehead.

"No!" Kol screamed as the stone got closer and closer until all he saw was a hellish green light.

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

Obviously, we know that Kol survives this, but its nice to dream. In my opinion, none of the Mikaelsons truly suffered for the pain and misery they inflicted on the world.

[porrokin]

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

story : all rights reserved ; @porrokin

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

-

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

-

© PHOTOGRAPHY : @/k_reckd [ TWITTER ]

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

© PHOTO - MODEL : @/iiphugs [ TWITTER ]

[threebananasforayorooo]

Harry is waiting.

He is waiting for the (Y/N), the cute girl who wormed her way into his heart with delicious sandwiches and pretty notes.

Harry doesn’t even know how it started either! One day he was going about with his daily business at the library, glaring icily at anyone who had walked up to him sending them off with cold answers if they had the courage to speak with him, and the next this impossibly adorable girl had parked her cute little bum into the seat diagonal from his, sliding him extra muffins and milk she had on him with impossibly thoughtful notes like: I noticed that you didn’t have any lunch today and I had an extra sandwich and some juice, if you’d like. That’s all she’d said as well! Just slid the food over to him and opened up her laptop and notebook, grabbing her perfectly color coordinated pens and began to take pretty little notes on something in her laptop. Didn’t even glance over at him to see if he’d even looked at the sandwich or not. Which, while he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him reach for the food, he didn’t have any lunch today, and while that usually wasn’t a problem, he didn’t have any breakfast either (he’d woken up half an hour late and had absolutely no time to have breakfast) but when he did reach for the muffin, he could see her smiling down at her book through the corner of his eye as she continued outlining her chapter.

So here he was, waiting for the cheerful girl who had made it part of her routine to walk into the little nook in the library where Harry was hidden and slide over whatever snack or second lunch she had brought for him that day, and then continue with her studying. After about fifteen minutes of waiting and searching desperately for the girl who usually came in clad in a colourful chunky pastel sweater, he decides to continue with his studying, making progress until he is rudely interrupted by heavy footsteps and laboured breathing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m really really sorry that I’m late today, but they didn’t have your usual at the cafe next to the library, so I had to go across campus to buy it, and it took forever since the waiting line was huge and by the time I’d gotten it, I was late to our study meeting, so I’m sorry Harry!” (Y/N)’s eyes are wide and her hair is mussed up, the pastel purple sweater slightly off kilter on her body.

“Hey, hey, it's fine pet! Really, you didn’t have to get me anything, could have just texted me and I’d be fine,” he replies and (Y/N) looks so relieved, he feels guilty, as though she thought it was obligatory for her to buy him lunch everyday. She sits down, and passes him his lunch and they continue studying together, with some minor conversation breaking out as time passes.

But at 6 o’clock when they stop studying, (Y/N) is quick to ask Harry something that’s been on her mind for a while now.

“Do you want to come over and watch a movie at my place?”

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

(Y/N) has no idea how on earth they got here. How she can be looking at Harry at 10 o’clock on a Friday night, with a wide smile stretched across his perfect face. Six months ago, had she invited him over for a late night grocery trip, she knows that all she would have gotten in return is a hard glare before he’d turn back to whatever it was he was occupied with.

And because of that, Friday nights used to mean snuggling up with her fuzzy blanket and doing some extra, late night studying while she prayed that whoever would be delivering her takeout that night would be a very cute, very single college student, as she stressed out about the closest due date for an assignment she was just getting started on.

Now, Friday nights meant finishing any assignments she hadn’t already finished at the library with Harry, before running back to her little brick flat to drop off their things. They meant trying to get to the grocery store as fast as possible in her hot rod red 1960 Rolls Royce convertible, and taking the cart straight to the frozen section, throwing in two large pizzas, and far too many packages of cookie dough, as Harry ventured to the snacks aisle to dump in copious amounts of both sweet and savoury snacks.

Friday nights now mean going back to (Y/N) flat and setting up Netflix on the tv. They mean turning off all the lights except for her fairy lights and opening all the snacks to munch on as they surf for a new movie. They mean snuggling together closely underneath the fuzzy blankets and (Y/N) wearing her fuzzy socks since Harry’s feet are “so fucking cold” (they really aren’t, but Harry knows she says they are because she’s always cold).

And this Friday is no exception. Once reaching home from the grocery store, Harry is quick to open Netflix to Legally Blonde, and (Y/N) smiles at him, fondly.

“Feeling nostalgic today, are we?” She asks, and Harry hums, turning his head back at her and smiling, patting the space beside him on the couch. She complies and he turns his head towards the tv, while (Y/N) chooses to admire the side profile of Harry’s face as he watches the movie. The plump curve of his pink lips, soft and tempting, and she could just lean over to him and-

“Hey do you think Warner ever finds love in his life?” (Y/N) eyes widen frantically, but Harry's forest green eyes are still trained on the tv.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” she responds, “He’ll probably get a sugar baby or something when he’s forty if he doesn’t,” and Harry snorts, turning to look at her, eyes twinkling. There’s humor in his gaze, but there’s a hint of something else, and she can’t exactly tell what it is.

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

Harry was really trying not to be jealous. He swears, he didn’t want to be jealous, it's not like she was his in the first place. But fuck, when he saw that bastard walk up to (Y/N), he swears he saw red glowing in the corners of his gaze. The worst part as well was that she didn’t even know what the little fucker was trying to do! She thought that he really did just want to take her out for coffee as a thank you for always letting him borrow her notes! What (Y/N) didn’t know was that the little fucker actually just wanted to get into her pants. So what does he do? Does he stand in their way and let the filthy bastard even think he has a chance at her? Fuck no!

Stalking towards them, Harry smeared a slow smirk on his face, preparing a threatening speech in his head to scare poor bastard away from his (Y/N).

“(Y/N)! There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Who's your friend?” He says it like he’s interested, shooting her a bright smile, as she turns towards him, though the minute she turns back to the fucker right in front of her his smile drops and Harry gives the boy (man is too good of a word to describe him) the deadliest glare he can muster, flexing his arms subtly so he knows not to fuck with Harry. (Y/N), ever the sweetheart, is blissfully oblivious to the all-powerful anger and jealousy emanating from Harry, turns back to the boy and smiles.

“Harry, this is Carter, he was just talking about a breakfast café that he’s just been to that sells amazing bagels,” and fuck Harry can’t say that it doesn’t disturb him seeing (Y/N) look innocent and pure, and so easy to absolutely ruin, not knowing this Carters true intentions.

“Really?” Harry hums, looking at her and then facing Carter again, “What’s it called?”

“Sunshine Café,” squeaks the terrified boy, and Harry knows Carter can see the gloating gleam in his eyes.

“Right, well I think I’ll take her there, yeah?” He asks, not waiting for an answer before he turns to (Y/N), saying, “I’ve just parked the car outside pet, just wait fo’ me inside, I promise I’ll just take a minute,” and she hums happily, taking off without a second glance to either of the two boys who stare after her, one with admiration and the other with jealousy and hatred.

As soon as (Y/N) is out of sight, Harry has his hands on Carter shirt, pulling him close to his face and glaring down at him heavily.

“You stay the fuck away from her. Got it?” His voice is low and dangerous, eyes burning a menacing glare into the shorter boy at his mercy. Carter scoffs, and (albeit with a little more than necessary effort) pulls away from Harry, sending him an annoyed glare.

“I don’t know why you’re being such a cockblock,” he spits out, “I mean, if you’re not planning on fucking her anytime soon, why don’t you let the rest of us have a go at her?” Harry could feel the anger boiling in his blood, melting it like a hot, dense wax. He really didn’t want to have to do something rash to the kid, (that’s a lie, he wanted to feel the crunch of his nose under Harry’s fist ever since he saw let-me-tell-you-about-something-you-like-to-get-laid stance Carter had assumed when talking to (Y/N)) but now, he’s almost glad that the amateur in front of him had said something so stupid, just for the chance to give him a good, hard, whack across the face.

Harry doesn’t even know it's happening until he hears the sweet crunch of bones underneath his fist, and his knuckles are stinging and Carter is clutching onto his nose, cries of agony escaping his filthy mouth. He glares at the boy with a hate as passionate as the care he holds in his heart for the girl of which the punch was for, and spits out a hiss.

“Don’t you dare fucking talk about her like that again, you understand?” Harry growls, grabbing the collar of Carter's shirt and pulling him up close to his face. The smaller boy whimpers in the back of his throat and desperately tries to draw his body back, as though he wants his shirt to swallow him whole. Harry only glares harder and draws the boy closer to him.

“If I ever hear you fucking talk about her like that, in my life, you’re going to fucking regret it. Understand?”, Carter whimpers once again, and all Harry can think is pathetic as the once playboy, now whimpering boy struggles to come out with an answer. “Do you understand?” once Harry hears the boy nod shakily, he drops him back to his feet and Carter scrambles away, sending him a disgusted glare.

Harry looks around his surroundings, glaring at the bystanders who’ve crowded around to watch.

“Get the fuck back to class!,” he barks out. He makes his way to his car, ensuring that there is no bruising on his hands, to give any clues as to what he was doing with Carter, mere seconds before, and slides into his car, turning his head to see his (Y/N) blissfully unaware of what happened in the courtyard. She turns to him with the sweetest, smile and it makes him all the more glad that he was able to save (that’s a slightly drastic word, but Harry was known to do slightly drastic things sometimes, and right now he just wants to be her ‘knight in shining armour’) her from the trauma of heartbreak ((Y/N) is way to gullible for her own good).

“Harry! You won’t believe what just happened!,” she looks up at him, eyes wide and moony, soft all over, and Harry just wants to hold her in his arms and squeeze her, and never let anyone hurt her.

“I was like walking here, right? And I saw this tiny little bunny on the ground and then when I bent down to get it, my shorts rode up! Which really wouldn't have been that bad, but they were my peekaboo short’s y’know? So anyone could have gotten a peek at my good bits-”

“I love you-”

“-And I’m terrified that someone might have gotten a look--what?”

SHIT.

This is the College!Harry story I wrote off of a request for prompt 59. My prompts have been deleted I think, but if anyone wants something to be written, my requests are always open. I will make a part to of this one if requested, so if you want part two, please request.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Problem with Spidey as ‘Iron Man Junior’

Proponents of the MCU version of Peter Parker have often defended his characterization as logical and necessary in context. But is this really the case?

Tl:dr version: No it is not.

Forgive some laziness on my part because I’m going to be presuming everyone’s familiarity with the comic book iteration of Spider-Man and his MCU adaptation for the most part. To say there is a divide between many fans of former vs. the latter would be an understatement.

Detractors (which I count myself among) typically sum this up as the character being reduced to ‘Iron Man Junior’. In general this refers to MCU Peter Parker’s hero-worshipping of Tony Stark/Iron Man, their father/son relationship and the similar emphasis upon high technology in their hero identities. A connected point of contention is Peter’s aspiration to become an Avenger.

This was outright confirmed by Tom Holland himself in an interview for the then upcoming ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’.

"I think the difference now is that Peter Parker finally has an all-time goal, and his goal is to become an Avenger…Everything he does, even though he's doing it for the right reasons, is done so that one day he can become an Avenger and prove himself to Tony Stark. And I think we've never really seen Spider-Man with that kind of motivation before."

Defenders of this take upon Spidey have argued that this portrayal makes sense in context.

After all, Peter Parker is a teenager who’s grown up in a world where the Avengers are beloved, especially Iron Man. Plus in the comics (under J. Michael Straczynski’s pen) there was a time when Peter and Tony shared a father/son relationship. Tony even equipped Peter with a high tech costume as he did in the MCU. Spider-Man early in his career attempted to join the Fantastic Four in ASM #1 and later the Avengers in ASM Annual #3.

The problem is these defences just don’t hold up to scrutiny.

Let me first be upfront about my philosophy towards adaptations.

I in no way shape or form demand nor expect adaptations to be 1:1 panel to screen translations of the source material. I fully respect that changes are a necessity.

One of many 22-page comic book stories put out every month in the 1960s inevitably needs to be altered when jumping to a 90+ minute live action film in the 2010s.

Even the characterizations need to be altered where necessary if the source material is found wanting. *side eyes Emma Stone’s Gwen Stacy*

However, my attitude is that adaptations should at minimum respect the spirit  of the source material no matter what. To do otherwise defeats the object of adapting the work in the first place. If a film is just borrowing superficial traits (names, costumes, powers, etc.) and but not representing the spirit of the character, then creatively speaking it might as well be an original character.

This is the case with the MCU version of Spider-Man. A fundamental component of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko’s original vision for Spider-Man was that he was in essence the anti-Robin.

At a time when teenaged characters were sidekicks (Dick Grayson), supporting characters (Rick Jones) or the ‘kids’ in teams (Johnny Storm) Peter Parker was unique as a totally independent  teen hero. Of course that independence only applied to his life as Spider-Man, but that was part of the point. Spider-Man was his escape and release from the pressures and hang ups of his regular life, which included his doting yet coddling aunt.

A critical part of this was that he was a self-made  man. No elder mentor guided him in the use of his powers, helped him create his equipment or provided any sort of advice/accountability for Peter. He did it all himself. He was a loner.

On a meta level this is partially why Stan Lee (and for the longest time consequent writers) showcased Spidey not jiving with super teams. It was done to emphasis Peter’s independence and thereby his uniqueness within the genre. Even if that’s not so unique anymore (even in film), it’s still a baked in component of teen Spidey’s story. An essential aspect of who he is as a character.

As is his working class status.*

In fact these things go hand-in-hand. Just as Peter had to shoulder an ‘adult hero’s’ burden as Spider-Man (noticeably Lee didn’t dub him Spider-Boy or Lad as would’ve been common back then he also had to struggle for every penny. With the death of his uncle and his aunt’s poor health the burden of household provider fell on his shoulders.

When you take all this into account, having him fanboy over the Avengers and have a superhero mentor (let alone a billionaire one) is an aggressive misreading of the character.

The best way I can illustrate this is with an analogy from the opposite end of the spectrum. Imagine if you will a movie depicting Dick Grayson’s transformation into Robin. Except Batman was wholly absent. Not even an off-screen presence.

That  is how poorly MCU has missed the point  of Spider-Man.

And it was never necessary.

Contrary to defenders of the MCU, making Peter an Avengers/Iron Man fanboy was not the only logical direction to go with the character.**

Yes, in Peter’s world most kids would revere the Avengers and Iron Man. But in the real world not every kid or teen likes the Avengers characters or movies. Just as not every major pop culture phenomenon has ever been universally  embraced by contemporary kids/teens. In the 1980s not every kid loved the Transformers or the Ninja Turtles. In the 1990s not ever kid loved the Power Rangers or Pokémon.

Of course, most kids did, just as most  kids like the Avengers characters today. Similarly most  kids in the MCU by extension would look up to the Avengers. However, if anything this could actually help generate a more spiritually faithful rendition of the character. Consider that on literally the first page of Amazing Fantasy #15 Peter Parker was mocked by his classmates for being an outsider. A bookworm who didn’t know the difference between a cha-cha and a waltz.

In the context of the MCU wouldn’t Peter’s lack of familiarity or interest in the Avengers make for an appropriate updating of that characterization?

Let’s also consider that in the context of the regular 616 universe Spidey held little reverence for any of the heroes who had preceded him. This included Captain America and other WWII heroes as well as the Fantastic Four and their leader, the world famous scientist Reed Richards. Peter would’ve surely known who Reed and Cap were but as originally depicted by Stan lee himself, he wasn’t falling over himself during any of their early encounters.

So there was already a precedent in the comics for Spidey to not be dazzled by famous A-list heroes, meaning it’d be totally believable in the context of the MCU. Indeed this was likely part of the point of the character. Just as being Spider-Man didn’t improve his outsider status within the high school hierarchy so too was he an outsider among his super hero peers. The nerd to the Avengers jocks if you will.

But what of those comic book sources that say otherwise? Surely ASM #1, ASM Annual #3 and JMS’ run on Amazing Spider-Man corroborate the MCU’s take upon the character.

Yes and no, let’s tackle them one by one.

In ASM #1 it was made explicit that Peter wanted to join the F4 for purely practical reasons. His family needed money so he hoped the F4 could provide and income. When he learned otherwise he departed as quickly as he’d arrived.

In ASM Annual #3 Peter was far from eager  to join the Avengers and was equally unimpressed with them as a group.

He actively sabotaged his own chances to join at the issue’s conclusion.

As for Straczynski’s run…sigh…strap in.

At face value this run does indeed seem to support the MCU’s rendition of Spidey. However, the support it offers falls apart due to two factors.

The first is that, well…Peter and Tony’s relationship was pretty nonsensical.

I’m no Iron Man expert so I do not know how old the character would be roughly. From my impressions of the character though circa 2006 he wasn’t even in his 40s yet. Peter by contrast was 30 years old when you do the math. Unlike Tony he’d had several very serious romantic relationships and was back then happily married (barring a brief trial separation). He and his wife had lost a child and even believed one another dead at one point or another. Peter at the time was also working as a teacher to teenagers where he was clearly framed as their elder authority figure.

What I’m saying is that Peter was if anything more emotionally mature than Tony at this time. Or at least he was mature to the point where he was not going to view Tony as his father figure given the minor age discrepancy.

The relationship was clearly engineered with the pre-determined endgame in mind. That endgame being the ‘Civil War’ storyline wherein Peter would unmask upon Tony’s request and subsequently become a fugitive in defiance of Tony’s unethical practices. The latter would entail Tony threatening Peter and the pair coming to blows.

This brings me to the second factor. The totality of Peter/Tony’s relationship was designed to be a testament to how it was ultimately a bad thing.

Tony wasn’t the man Peter believed him to be.

Tony didn’t have Peter’s best interests at heart.

Tony was willing to spy, threaten and even attack Peter.

And along the way Peter and his family lost their home and the safety of Peter’s anonymity. The end result was Peter’s life becoming a shell of it’s former self, with his loved ones in serious danger. In fact you could view his fugitive status as a way to recreate the ‘good old days’ when Spider-Man was feared and hated by the public and authorities.

Had Peter retained his independence rather than surrendering any part of it to his ‘father figure’ Tony Stark, much of this could’ve been avoided. If nothing else Peter might’ve been able to unmask privately rather than publicly.

Whilst the MCU addresses the first factor via de-aging Peter, it has no answer for the second. It borrowed from the JMS run superficially and ditched the greater subtext regarding how Peter shouldn’t  have formed a relationship with Tony.

I’d like to conclude by addressing the most obvious counterpoint to everything I’ve said.

If Spider-Man were more comic faithful wouldn’t it undermine the entire point of him being in the MCU? The appeal of the concept was seeing Spider-Man interact with the wider MCU. From the audience’s POV seeing yet another Spidey flick confined to using Spider-Man exclusive elements might as well have been produced solely by Sony.

The problem with this argument though is that it doesn’t consider the myriad of possibilities available. Spidey could interact with the wider MCU and still be in character.

I’m no writer but off the top of my head:

Spidey could have defied the Sokovia Accords and thus been wanted by the authorities (a neat updating of his traditional ‘outlaw’ status), consequently coming into conflict  with Iron Man

Spidey might have still dueled the Vulture and interacted with Tony as he did in ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’. However, instead of gradually realizing he should be a ‘friendly neighborhood’ hero, he could call Tony out for ignoring small scale crime which indirectly ‘created’ the Vulture in the first place

Following ‘Avengers: Endgame’ the dissolution of the Avengers combined with the huge uptick in the population and displacement of citizens might’ve caused far more street crime that Peter would have to deal with. The remnants of H.Y.D.R.A. might’ve exploited this to gain a foothold upon which to rebuild.*** That might’ve warrant an appearance from more grounded heroes like Hawkeye or Ant-Man

An environment like this could’ve been exploited by Quentin Beck to frame Spider-Man, exploiting his already shaky public reputation and make himself look more appealing by contrast

Or Hell just do ‘Nothing Can Stop the Juggernaut’ but with the Hulk as Roger Stern planned to do in the first place

I’m sure many of you could suggest infinitely better ideas.

In conclusion, no matter how you slice it, there were better options than rendering Peter Parker Iron Man Junior instead of Spider-Man.

*Peter, as depicted in ‘Captain America: Civil War’ was clearly not well off financially, yet consequent depictions of Peter in the MCU have de-emphasized this to the point where you could argue they are very probably not working class anymore.

This makes sense internally as a billionaire Tony Stark has no reason to take Peter under his wing but allow him to still dumpster dive for equipment. Giving the boy at least some modest financial stability would be a logical step in building a relationship with him and giving him more time and energy to put into his scientific and heroic pursuits.

Whilst I don’t exactly agree with everything said here, this post dives into the subject more deeply.

**And even if it was, if the context demands Peter be rendered so unrecognizable then maybe it was just creatively reductive to integrate him into the MCU the first place.

***They have after all had connections to organized crime in the comics.

[shianhygge-imagines]

{R} [DMC Reactions] S/O Sacrifice Scramble

AN: No, thank you! For supporting my angsty ass during my days of procrastination and getting my life together, lmao! That is an interesting idea! So... let’s take the same scenarios from the original reaction post... and just replace the s/o with another character’s s/o! :3

Let’s be honest... it’s not gonna be a happy affair! And given how the DMC universe is... it’s highly likely something like this would happen.

|Link to Original S/O Sacrifice|

|Masterlist Link|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dante

Gets saved by Vergil’s S/O

He’d needed an expert with him on a job when it happened. His usual carelessness had gotten a loved one killed. 

Dante cried in agony as your head rolled away, remembering how he’d promised his older brother that he’d bring you back safe and sound. 

How Vergil had promised Dante a slow painful death if anything happened to you. How Dante had agreed that if anything happened, he would let Vergil kill him. 

He didn’t know what to do, going into a full blown demonic rage and butchering the demon that killed you. 

All he could think to do after was to bring your body back to Vergil. 

The moment Dante returned, the roar of his motorcycle the telltale sign of his return, Vergil had practically flown through the shop front doors. His face didn’t show it, but his heart leapt in joy at your return, longing to hold you in his arms after a time apart.  

Upon seeing only Dante standing in the dark, tears in his eyes and a white bundle in his arms, Vergil paused, his mind quickly connecting two and two together. “Y/N?” Vergil asked for you, his lips twitching to fight a frown. When Dante only met his twin’s eyes and tearfully looked away, Vergil took a step back. “No.” He denied, eyes shifting to stare at the human sized bundle in Dante’s arms, “She can’t have…” 

“I’m sorry, Vergil.” Dante tried to apologize, but his brother practically snarled in denial. 

But little by little, Vergil’s mask crumbled when a hand fell out of the bundle. Your hand. Your wedding ring. You. Unmoving.

A sob escaped Vergil’s lips before he could stop it, and his legs suddenly gave way as he could only stare in despair. You’d loved him during his darkest time, and gotten him through it. And you were dead. 

Was this karma for all the harm that he’d done in the past? Was this the world taking its revenge against him for nearly bringing the end of humanity two times?You were supposed to be his redemption. His salvation. That you were gone… did that mean he was damned for all eternity? That he was destined to stand alone forever.

He’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but now that was a distant dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vergil

Get’s saved by Dante’s S/O

“Gah! Fecking hell, Vergil!” You screamed, practically diving into the swarm that your brother-in-law had sprinted into. From behind, you could hear Dante calling for you to let Vergil do his thing. But from his position on the cliff below, he couldn’t see the number of demons that awaited his twin.

They’d finally started to have some semblance of a non-toxic relationship again, and you were damned if you would just let Vergil get himself killed.

Dante had only just gotten his brother back, and it made you happy that the brothers had started to mend their relationship. If anything were to happen to either brother, you were sure that their relationship would have been set back by a great deal. And with how much you loved Dante, you couldn’t allow anything to happen to the only surviving member of his family.

That was why you threw yourself in front of a fireball, suffering through burns in order to protect a man that was usually frigid in demeanor despite his turning over a new leaf. And the pain was unbearable, your skin melting and clothes burning. You were only able to verify that Vergil was unharmed before you collapsed into his arms unconscious.

Vergil knew that he was a class A jerk to you, so he was surprised that you, someone who only held a small fraction of demonic blood, would throw yourself in the way of an attack that might have left him incapacitated, but not too severely injured.

He caught your falling body as it fell in front of him, surprise flickering on his face for a brief moment before he schooled his expression.

The demon that had burned you so badly shook in fear at the icy malice on Vergil’s face after he’d laid you on the ground and covered your damaged body with his coat.

“Y/N is precious to someone important to me. I hope you’re ready to suffer through a slow and painful death.” Vergil hissed, unsheathing the Yamato with a deadly ring of metal.

After the demon had been dealt with, Vergil calmly picked your body up from the ground, noting that you were still alive. With the still unsheathed Yamato, Vergil quickly opened a portal back to Devil May Cry, where he gave Dante the scare of his life by immediately barking out instructions on how to treat your wounds.

After you had been treated and left to rest, Vergil would break the news to Dante like ripping off a band aid. “She saved me from an attack.” Vergil saw the punch coming at him, but didn’t move, letting his younger twin land a strike to his face.

“Next time, you better be the one looking after her.” Dante growled, clenching and unclenching his fist, beyond furious that Vergil had been so negligent as to let you get hurt.

Knowing that there would be a next time because of your stubbornness, Vergil nodded. “Next time, I’ll look after her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nero

Get’s saved by V’s S/O

As loathe as Nero was to have to take you along on a hunt, he didn’t quite have the balls to defy you when it was your fiance’s life on the line

A few days prior, several demons had appeared to attack V, vowing revenge on the Sons of Sparda, blah blah blah, like you hadn’t heard that reason half a million times.

Due to having been a part of Vergil, V’s continued existence was sustained through absorbing demonic energy, much to your surprise and confusion on how that would work in the first place.

During the attack, V had been alone except for his demon contracts, Shadow, Griffon, and Nightmare. Normally, this wouldn’t have been much of a challenge for the four of them, but V had been severely weakened after Vergil ‘resurrected.’

Not only did the attacking demons manage to severely wound V, they had also taken it upon themselves to steal V’s demonic power. The only thing sustaining V was his contracts with Shadow and Nightmare. Griffon had decided to forge a contract with you in order to help. Now, you and Nero were racing against the clock to kill the demon that housed V’s power.

Despite not having an upraising involving combat, you held your own whenever demons appeared, brandishing V’s cane and a rifle borrowed from Lady.

“A Bride on a Mission” Griffon had called you after you struck down a demon with no mercy.

Despite being able to hold your own, you were under no illusion that you could kill the demon that had assaulted your fiance and left him for dead. So, when you saw Nero getting backed into a corner, still reluctant to use his Devil Trigger, you commanded Griffon to give you a boost, sending you soaring towards Nero.

Though you stuck the landing wrong, earning you a twisted ankle, you’d managed to blast through part of the horde. You didn’t get to celebrate your victory much, when you felt the painful end of a horn dig into your stomach and send you tumbling backwards.

“Y/N!” Nero cried out in alarm.

Now, normally, you tried not to curse... but laying on your back with a hole in your abdomen, you couldn’t help but let out a swear, “Fuck!”

The demon that had stolen your fiance’s power had come out to play, and you were pretty much down for the count. Nevertheless, you propped yourself up on an elbow and aimed with your rifle. “Heh, I’m not dead yet, you fucker.”

Nero, meanwhile, had finally started to take the fight seriously, blasting through the rest of the demon horde before advancing on the bastardization of a bull demon that had attacked you when he wasn’t looking. “Hey! Do you know how much trouble I’m in now that you’ve poked a hole into my friend’s fiance?!”

The banter was a front. Nero was scared shitless that he’d have to bury another friend and break the news to V... who might just find a way to kill him for not looking after you.

Activating his Devil Trigger for the sake of killing the beast, Nero followed the battle up with picking up the crystallized demonic energy embedded in the bull demon’s horn before using his Devil Trigger to get you to a hospital.

Somehow, between getting checked into the hospital, and waking up from surgery, Griffon had left you to return to V, who found out about what had happened and immediately brought himself to the hospital to yell at Nero and look after you.

When you woke up, V sat in a chair beside your bed, one hand holding yours and another holding a book. Seeing you awake, V set the book down and gently chided you after making sure you were okay. “Please, Y/N... Don’t do that again. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

V

Get’s saved by Nero’s S/O

For the sake of this request, we’ll say that Nero’s S/O is different from Kyrie (even if it’s the canon pairing >.>, The reason why I have to clarify... well, that’s a story for another time)

V had long since retired from hunting demons, instead, investing his newly mortal life in learning about the world with the help of you, Nero, and Kyrie.

He was only a month old when he’d assisted in defeating Urizen, and had barely grasps the basic human mannerisms and fundamentals. Like the use of money, or the fact that a bullet to the head would kill him, or your personal favorite, that he had to consume food for survival. Truly, when Nero first introduced you to V, you thought him to be a child.

Though, the first thing you did after meeting him had been to take him clothes shopping. Sure, it was summer, but once the colder seasons rolled in, you were sure that V would need proper shirts instead of... the trench coat corset thing? You’re amazed the thing didn’t come apart during his battles.

There were a few times that V was forced to fight demons, either to absorb their demonic energy in order to extend his life, or to beat off random assaults from demons that swear revenge upon the Sons of Sparda. These times were increasingly annoying for the young man, as he’d long since separated himself from Vergil.

Most of the times that he’d get attacked were during his walks in the streets of Fortuna. It was a beautiful town with old architecture, so V often found himself observing the towering structures.

One day, you decided to accompany V on one of his strolls, taking a sketchbook along just in case you found another spot to stop and sketch while V took his time looking at the building designs.

It is unfortunate, then, that while the two of you were doing just that, Shadow popped out of the ground beneath you, growling in warning as several demons decided to claw out of the ground around you.

Despite having V, Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare with you, your group was quickly overwhelmed by attacks from all sides. You’d never had to fight in your life, and by not having a weapon on you, you were just a burdening presence. That didn’t stop you from calling out enemy presence in the street and slapping bitches with your sketchbook, mind you. You were unprepared and untrained, but damn it you weren’t going to be a useless damsel.

This was foolhardy of you, taking on demons despite the fact that V probably had it all handled... especially the fact that V had asked you to stay back from the demons. You didn’t listen to your fiance’s friend, and so when you’d taken a shot at one of the downed demons, raising an arm up to slap the mofo, you suddenly felt pain, and heard a thump to the floor. The blood that trickled down your arm brought your attention to the fact that you were now missing your non dominant hand.

“Fucking hell!” you screamed, wanting to panic and flail around as V quickly took care of the remaining demons before hobbling on unsteady feat towards you, unbuckling his belt to tie it around your bleeding arm.

“Y/N...” V called your name as he applied the make shift tourniquet, “Y/N, which way is the hospital? We need to get you to the hospital soon, or you really will lose your arm.”

The two of you sprinted with as much haste as possible to the hospital, you trying not to scream in panic, and V, trying not to imagine your fiance’s ire as he held your severed arm.

The minute you entered the surgery room, Nero arrived on scene at the hospital, and practically accosted V, “What the hell, V! Y/N’s not a demon hunter! You’re supposed to protect them!”

V, already feeling guilty for being unable to protect you, winced and responded with a calm voice, “I should have had Shadow escort them away, that was my mistake. But your fiance is as stubborn as you, Nero. They wanted to help... and now they may lose their arm... or not. You did regrow your arm after all.”

Brain running a mile a minute and having already decided that he should now at the very least teach you some basic defense, Nero growled, “That’s not a normal thing humans can do, V. I know you’re still getting used to being a real boy and all, but...” Nero simply sighed tiredly. “Just... make sure you watch their back when you’re with them, okay? We were lucky that they’re not half dead.”

Hours later, your arm was reattached, but you made stump jokes that made Nero simultaneously want to kiss you and slam his face in the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

[lochrannn]

AU_gust: Supernova, it's all over

Read on AO3

CW: Major Character Death, Hurt no Comfort

Prompt no 30: The Day the World Died

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Character: Diego Hargreeves, Lila Pitts

-

In the short moments he had to watch the mushroom cloud billow up in the distance, surrounded by his siblings, something inside of Diego settled itself. Some feeling of wrongness, of nervous anticipation dissolved.

He realized he’d known all along that he was living on borrowed time.

Only three months ago, he had watched chunks of the moon and certain death fall down towards him and yet somehow he hadn’t died then. Neither had his siblings.

But nobody could cheat death and Diego had known that the entire time he was in Dallas.

Even after escaping the asylum and gradually finding his siblings except for Vanya and Five, and even after he watched Kennedy’s convoy pass Dealey Plaza, planning to stop a gunshot that never came, because instead his still missing sister blew up the federal building, after she’d been captured and tortured by the FBI, and even after they had all come together to fight the ensuing nuclear war, Diego had known that they wouldn’t be able to indefinitely cheat death.

He’d been surprised when they survived the shootout between those blond weirdos and the crazy lady who all belonged to that time assassin agency that Hazel and Cha Cha had been sent by. The only one who didn’t survive that was the crazy lady, who had actually turned out to be Lila’s mother.

Lila.

His thoughts got stuck on the woman who had wormed her way into his bed and his heart, who had helped him escape the asylum, who had helped him find his siblings and then turned on them the minute the time cop lady turned up.

Lila, who could copy their powers in the fight, so they realized she was one of them. Lila, who he’d almost convinced that she could be part of their family, be with him, before her mother got killed and she ran away. It had ultimately been for the better, he knew deep down even then. The family he had offered her was doomed, after all. He hoped she was safe.

And just as a final fuck you from the universe, even that idea was taken from him, as the strong wind that had been blowing turned into almost unbearable pressure and then suddenly stopped, everything in a seven foot radius around him going impossibly still.

Sensing a presence behind him Diego whirled around to find Lila, still wearing her leather jacket, black pants, and red boots standing behind him, her hands balled up into fists, glowing blue, one of them holding the briefcase he remembered her grabbing when her mother had gotten shot, and her face scrunched up in concentration.

Her eyes opened to look at him when he snapped, “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like, idiot, I’m here to save you!” she shouted over the roaring noise that was going on outside the small, watery blue dome that was protecting them from the nuclear blast.

Diego didn’t consciously look, but he could tell that all there was left was a dust storm blasting by. His siblings were already gone.

“You’re too late for that,” he said, resignedly, but with none of the sting he thought he’d feel for Lila abandoning him only a few days ago.

“Yeah I know, I can’t hold on to your sister’s power much longer, we’ve got to go!” Lila shot back, her voice and expression frantic now.

“No.” Diego replied, completely certain.

“What do you mean, no? Diego, this is a nuclear fucking bomb, there’s not much to argue about!”

He could tell there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but whether that was from the strain of holding up the blue bubble or because she was starting to sense what he was about to say next, he couldn’t be certain.

“Where would I even go? My family is dead now, and I should have died three months ago. There’s no place or time for me anymore.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You come with me, we can figure this out, but we’ve got to go, we’re out of time, Diego!”

“Yeah, we’re out of time.” Diego stepped up to her, brushed an angry tear rolling down her cheek away with his thumb and then wrapped her up in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have longer!” he said against her hair before pressing his lips to the top of her head.

Lila wasn't really reciprocating the hug as her hands were busy, but she leaned into him and he could hear her chanting no no no no no over and over again.

He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear, “But I can’t come with you and you can’t stay here, so please go! You’ve got another chance!”

And for a moment she pressed herself harder into his chest.

And then her weight against him was gone.

And then so was everything else.

[eiffelchoc]

Afraid of the Unknown

“Please! Just be normal!”

It was almost midnight when the desperate scream of our neighbor disrupted our sleep. The scream was ear-splitting and made the voice unrecognizable, nevertheless we knew who it belonged to. It had to be coming from the mother of the strange girl.

Who else would be screaming at someone, asking them to be normal at this hour? Of course, it was someone who was dealing with that person. Her daughter is the only one that stood out from the rest of us villagers. For all the wrong reasons though. She is vastly different from us.  

After the scream, there was a loud thud and the sound of a door banging. It was then followed by silence. After a few minutes, we decided that it was over, we closed our curtains and turned off the lights that were lit again due to the commotion.  

The morning came and everyone went with their morning routines. At exactly 8:30 in the morning, we kissed our kids goodbye. We then waited by our front windows, staring at the house that served the show last night.

Half a minute passed, and the girl walked out of their door. Immediately we scanned her appearance from head to toe. Her uniform was just like the other kid’s but other than that she is something we cannot grasp. If the midwife of the village did not claim to have helped with her birth, we would all think that she came from a foreign place.

“what in the world?” We all turned our head towards the direction of the voice. It was one of our respective neighbors, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as the seconds go by. He then raised his right arm and pointed back to the direction of the subject of our stares earlier.

“her hair, what did she do with it?” with his question, we all noticed what he was pertaining to. The girl’s long hair was now at her shoulders. The cut was evidently not clean as well. We will not be surprised if she were to tell us that she just held the scissors in her hand and cut her hair like a madman.  

It was disheveled and not uniform at all. Some strands were at shoulder level, while some were above and below her ears. “What are you all looking at?!” the girl yelled at us. We kept silent; we did not want to involve ourselves with her likes.

She rolled her eyes at us and walked her way towards the village school. We sure do hope she will not spread her virus to our kids.

“Alright, go into your groups and work on your art tasks” our teacher commanded, and we all went to our respective groups. Unfortunately, we have the odd girl in our class, it is a good thing that the teacher is considerate and had her work alone, that way she will not be able to influence us with her strange ideas.

“Want to borrow mine?” She offered to one of our classmates who has been rummaging her bag searching for something. “Is that the scissors you used to cut your hair?” The latter asked. “And if it is?” she questioned, raising her left brow.  

“Then, no thank you, I don’t want your filthy hair on my project” our classmate looked at her in grimace and went back to her group. The freakish girl of our village only rolled her eyes and continued with her work.  

“School is supposed to be over a few minutes ago, right?” one of our neighbors inquired. The one beside him opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the loud sound of a door banging.

The door vomited the teacher of the village, he was dragging the strange one along. We all furrowed our eyebrows, wondering what she could have done now for the respectable teacher to display such actions.

The teacher stopped at the heart of our village and shoved the girl on the ground. “Everyone! I regret showing such violence however I can no longer stand the horrendous ideas this girl surrounds herself. She said, she plans to leave the walls of our village!”

Most of us gasped at the ludicrous notion, some observed the girl with repugnance. Everyone knows only men gets to leave the village from time to time, girls and women should only stay and care for the village.  

Our thoughts were disrupted by a laugh, a maniacal one. It came from the subject of our interest. We scrunched our faces even deeper and thought of how eerie and possibly crazy the girl in front of us is.

“Back when I was younger, you did not like my ideas and the words that came out of my lips, now that I say I want to leave, you look like you all are about to throw up! Well, what is it then?! what is it that you want me to do?!”  

There she is again, yelling at us with her nonsense, she thinks she is bright but all she has is her stupidity. Too stupid to understand our ways here, this is where it has gotten her, she has gone mental. Pathetic.  

We remained silent, waiting for what else she had in store to scream for. The silence was broken by a pained exhale of breath. The owner was her mother. We stepped to our sides to give way for her mother, for her to get a good look at her mother’s pained, disappointed, and desperate expression.

Her jaw dropped when her mother looked her straight in the eyes, disgust apparent on her features. “you are no daughter of mine.” Then the middle-aged woman turned her back and walked away, never looking back.  

Her eyes narrowed and tears raced down her cheeks, she opened her mouth, seeming to say something but only exhaled shaky breaths. We began to murmur our thoughts, but she was deaf to it. she did not move from her position, her expression did not change, and she only clenched the hem of her skirt.

She stayed that way for a few minutes before standing up. “Well, there you heard it people! I am no longer her daughter! And since I do not have a father either, then I no longer have a reason to stay here!” Her eyes were piercing as she glared at us village people. Then she ran.

We stood there, too dumbfounded to realize what was going on. “Idiots! Don’t let her run away!” someone finally broke our idiotic trance. So then we ran as well. Our village being a small area, she was already nearing the gates.

A few men got hold of her and she thrashed around causing detrimental effects on the men near her. She screeched at the top of her lungs and it made us all halt and observe her. “You all treat me as if I’m some crazy person, but do you realize how nitwitted you all are?!!”

“If you let me out, nothing will change except for the fact that you won’t have to be wary of me anymore! Don't you understand?!” She looked at us one by one. Her eyes seem to tell us how brainless we were.  

“It’s you who does not understand anything, you would not survive out there! Indeed, we do not like you one bit, but we are not heartless people who will just let you leave knowing what awaits you!” The teacher told her, still catching his breath from the running.

One of us smirked while pointing at the gates. “The gates are nothing but a massive metal door, there are no bars and certainly no tools to aid her escape.” As it clicked in our minds, we laughed at the situation, we have claimed victory after all.

However, the freak had other plans, so foolish it mentally drained us. She banged her fists on the metal doors while shrieking like a psychopath. She continued until her fists bled the color of crimson. Then she stopped.  

“This village is technically a prison, if you don’t want someone to leave, then change your ways, imbeciles.” she said while looking at her soiled shoes. “You think our neighborhood is a peaceful one with cooperative people? No! What this place consists of are only those with power, and those who are too naïve to realize they’re being played on!”  

“There she goes again with her hogwash views” one of the men who tried to stop her earlier sneered. “You’ve always been a strange one, but now you’re no different from a crazy person” the teacher stated, his eyes narrowing at the girl. Then we remembered, she was always pondering over things, asking questions left to right.

“Why can’t I be the future teacher of our village?” the little girl stared at the teacher with her eyes rounded with curiosity. “Because you can’t, being a teacher is an arduous work and is too much for you to handle, you are a girl after all.”  

We thought she was merely confused, maybe she just has a tough time understanding basic concepts, but it did not stop there. She questioned everything. Why girls were not given complicated tasks at school like the boys, why the poor portion of the small village stayed poor for the rest of their lives no matter how many hours they worked, and why the rich had so much to eat and an extensive free time.

At our horror, she even made three children her lackeys. First it was only two girls, they followed her everywhere. Then after, a boy joined their group, and every time the strange one opened her mouth, their eyes would sparkle, full of hope.

Then she did it, she dug herself a hole and fell in it. Standing strongly at the heart of our small village, she argued with the teacher. She bickered about how the place and its people needed to change. And before she knew it, we have formed a circle around them, listening to their conversation.

We began to state our opposing thoughts, yelling at her so that she could never raise her voice and spout nonsense continuously. She looked at her minions who was also at the circle, seeking for help. Her minions just stood, biting their lips, and looking down.  

That day, she was reminded that she was different, she was alone. After that event, she became more strange—almost scary. She never tried to befriend anyone again. She would speak only a few times a day. She never did question things anymore.

We thought maybe she finally understood, but no. She just became quiet, but she was still the same, different from the rest of us. A puzzle we could not solve.

“How long has it been? I’ve never seen her since then?” One of us asked while rubbing his chin. “You don’t think she actually did it?! You think she might have left?!” The other questioned, horror filled her eyes.

A piercing scream was heard from the center of the village. We all took our feet to the venue of the commotion. The girl who screamed was on her knees looking up at something. We followed the direction of her eyes and there she was.

The strange girl was standing by the edge of the school’s rooftop. Her bizarre hair was disheveled, her eyes and cheeks were sunken. She explored her eyes and looked at us who were watching her, then she stopped at the girl who screamed.

We looked once more at the person who caused us to watch whatever the strange girl was planning. We could not figure out what it was, but something was familiar with her.

Oh! We thought. It was none other than one of her underlings back then. Our staring was disrupted by a loud thud, we turned our heads and there she was, at the ground already.

We stared and stared as the pool of blood kept spreading. We did not know what to feel, or rather, we were guilty for we did not feel anything. She had always been different and strange, we never got what she rumbled about.

A few days later, her mother found the last letter she wrote. There she stated all her reasons and thoughts of why she did what she had done. It was evident that the freak poured her soul into the letter, it was her through and through, however, the penmanship was ours.

[servingkarmalikecake]

Motorcyle Drive By

“Alec, Alec please Listen to—“

“No.”

“Please Alec, it—“

“No.”

“Alexander—“

“NO!”

This is how it starts—the day that changed everything.

Magnus’ shoulders sag as he chases after Alec—always chasing after this stupid, beautiful man, he thinks, with a weary smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

The hallowed walls of the former New York Institute stretch up on either side of him, still impressive and imposing, despite the ruin they now stood within. It had been foolish of them to think that they could have won, that they could have even survived…after everything they’d lost? This world belonged to Sebastian now; there was really no sense in denying it at this point. They may have outrun it for a time, seeking refuge here in New York for a little while but really, hadn’t they just been avoiding the inevitable?

Foolish, indeed.

Magnus’ hurried steps echo off cracked stonewalls as he follows after Alec, who was purposely putting distance between them—making the Warlock work for it. He wants to be indignant about it—after all, he was the one slowly turning into a monster, not Alec—but he couldn’t…he wouldn’t.  

He finds Alec standing in the library, which is now just a shell of its former self. Tall book stacks now stand barren, save for a thick layer of soot and ash and the occasional torn page that hadn’t been burned in the fire. The fall of the institute had felt like the very last of their hopes finally being snuffed out and although Alec would never say it, Magnus knew that he was mourning, for what once was and perhaps what could have been.

Now there was nothing except fire and blood and death…so much death.

Magnus is silent as he carefully navigates through the debris that litters the floor. He’s making his way towards Alec, who has his back to him and is staring down at a large piano that was lying in two halves, as if someone had sliced right through its middle. It’s a grim sight to behold, even amidst the ruins that crumbled all around it. Magnus knew why Alec was so fixated on the piano. He knew it and it broke his heart.

“Alexander…” He starts slow, gentle, as if he could somehow coax Alec into seeing things from his point of view with a whisper and a smile. Ah, if only it were still so easy..

Magnus stills behind him and reaches up to place a gentle hand on Alec’s stiffened shoulder, ignoring the way his veins sing with pain under his skin with even the subtlest of movements. He knows that Alec is thinking about Jace and he wishes, more than anything that they had the luxury of time to dwell on such things…but they don’t. They’re already living on borrowed time; Magnus can feel it inside of him. Demon blood that was once his source of existence, of power, had been twisted and deformed by blight and soon, he would be gone. Too soon.

His resolve steels when he is met with only silence and he continues, because he has to. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear but—“ Alec whips around to face him so fast that is shocks him, fury and hurt and tears burning in his enormous eyes. Magnus’ resolve crumbles and his words die on his lips, which quiver with an unspoken agony that mirrors in his eyes.  

“You think this is easy for me?”  Alec asks, and his tone is so cool that is chills Magnus, all the way to his bones. “There is no reality that you are ever a burden to me.”  

Alec’s words are sharp and they cut Magnus down to his core because they were stupid, foolish words that he himself had uttered to Alec once—back before the world had fallen apart and they still thought they had a fighting chance. It felt like someone else’s life now; distorted, like a faded picture that was hard to make out.

Magnus’ chest heaves with a sob that he was desperately trying to keep inside. He needed Alec to understand, before it was too late. “But I won’t be me anymore, Alec…” He whispers brokenly, ignoring the agony that radiated beneath his skin where Alec’s hand gripped him firmly.

Magnus had seen the effect that the blight had on the Warlocks. It had started with the very oldest of them first, their very own demon blood burning away their humanity until there was nothing left but a mindless demon on a tight leash—that Sebastian wielded. He knew it was coming, he’d been feeling it for weeks, the subtle simmer that slowly turned into boil as his veins began to blacken beneath skin that felt cracked and curled and raw, like wallpaper catching fire. They couldn’t outrun it, no matter how much they tried, and Magnus was so tired of running.

His gaze lifted tentatively, seeking the comfort in Alec’s eyes that had always been there before now. Now they just looked haunted. Magnus hated himself for asking Alec what he was asking, but he couldn’t bear the alternative—he just couldn’t.

“It has to be you, Alec, I’m not strong enough…” His voice hitches dryly, even as the words force themselves out of his throat, as if desperately trying to remain unsaid. Alec looks stricken, as if Magnus’ words had slapped him, hard and Magnus thinks for a moment that he is going to deny him.

Alec is already pulling away, taking a step back and forcing that distance again. Ever determined. Magnus loved him for it, even if it was all so very…pointless. “Please, Alec,” Magnus sniffled then, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He could feel the tears pushing up against the walls he had built to keep in all the emotions that he could no longer process in this world. It was taking every ounce of energy and sheer willpower for Magnus to retain control of himself for as long as he had already managed, he couldn’t afford to lose control—not now, when they were so close to the end.

“It has to be on my terms Alec…please…please…I need you to do this for me…please.”  Magnus had never begged for anything in his life but here he was, dropping to his knees and clinging to Alec’s legs, begging for the unthinkable. It was agony, in every sense.

Alec seemed frozen in place, his eyes tired and hollow as he gazed down at Magnus like he was a stranger crumpled at his feet. Agony.  

Silent tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and Magnus sniffled again and choked on another sob, struggling to retain some semblance of dignity. Whatever for, he did not know.

Something seemed to switch on behind Alec’s gaze and he jerked suddenly, like he’d just woken from a nightmare and needed to clear his thoughts. He said nothing, just held up a hand in front of him and shook his head, and then he was gone. Turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, broken glass and splintered bits of wood crunching beneath his boots as he left Magnus alone—a crumpled, broken mess.

For a long while, Magnus remained where he was, his shoulders shaking with dry sobs that bounced off the hollow walls. He felt hopeless and helpless and so many other things that twisted into a massive ball inside of him that was impossible to control anymore. Alec had asked him once, what scared him and it was this. Right here.

Magnus cried then. He cried for what they had sacrificed and what they had lost—what they had to lose still and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Eventually, like most days, Magnus finally managed to get himself back to his feet, wincing openly because there wasn’t anyone left to hide it from. The pain that simmered inside of him was constant and torturous and soon, it would be too much to bear at all, Magnus knew it was only a matter of time.

When he stepped back outside, the sun, which had already started to disappear behind the haze, was hanging duly in the sky, casting sickly shadows on everything around him. His gaze fell on Alec then, who was perched atop a motorcycle at the bottom of the steps, gazing off in the distance like a goddamn postcard. It was breathtaking and Magnus’ chest seized sharply, a fresh crop of tears already threatening to make their escape.

He didn’t know what to say. Alec looked like a natural sitting on the sleek machine and it stirred something in him, something that he feared was already beginning to burn away. Magnus wanted to ask him where he’d snagged the thing but found that he didn’t really care.

“Get on.” Alec says, just like that, without even looking at him.

Magnus blinked, his gaze flicking between Alec and the bike. He trusted Alec; would follow him anywhere in this entire fucked up world, but they didn’t have time for this. They just didn’t have the time. “Alec—“ It was the only word he managed to get out before Alec’s head snapped around so quick it was a blur and instantly killed any retort he thought he would like to make.

Alec’s gaze was fixed on him so intently that it commanded compliance and Magnus was helpless against it. He always had been, after all.  “Magnus.”  Alec said, simply, with just a hint of impatience that instantly softened his expression. It was just a simple thing, but Magnus understood it. He understood Alec and so he gave in.

Magnus nodded, once, firmly, as he walked over to where Alec sat, offering him a small, defeated smile as he climbed up onto the bike and tucked himself in right behind. Alec’s back was firm against his front and Magnus allowed himself to dissolve into that warmth that felt like home. He sucked in a deep breath and dropped his head down on Alec’s shoulder, arms snaking around his middle and holding on so tight he might never let go.

Alec kick started the bike with a confidence that made the very corners of Magnus’ mouth curl with the fondest smile. Alec was nothing if not determined.  The motorcycle roared to life beneath them and Magnus’ eyes fluttered shut, surrendering it all to Alec and this moment.

It didn’t take him very long to figure out the mechanical aspect of the bike and soon enough they were roaring along down one street after another. The wind was warm and sharp and it whipped painfully at Magnus’ skin and tangled his hair. Alec was like a steady, comforting warmth against him and Magnus sucked in another, deep, cleansing breath, burying his nose right between Alec’s shoulder blades. He smelled like leather and smoke and so many other things that Magnus didn’t want to think about.

Once upon a time things could have been so different and Magnus feels bitter and cheated that this had become their fate. It wasn’t fair, he thought, petulantly, as if he still had the freedom to be so childish. Those days were gone, along with all of their friends. There was nothing left for them here, not anymore.

Magnus feels Alec’s muscles tense against him as he removes his arms from where they were anchored around his middle and he smiles, leaning in close enough to press a small kiss to the back of his neck. Just a small assurance. Everything is fine, or, as fine as it can be, anyways. He smiles as he raises his arms up, stretching them out on either side of him as they zoomed down the street like they were the only two people in the world.  

Magnus knows what Alec is doing and he loves him for it, he always has. Alec was stubborn but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that there was no other way; Magnus had seen it in his eyes, even when he was denying it with his mouth.

When he tires of the wind’s relentless torrent his arms return, sliding back around Alec and locking him in place, as if he could freeze them right here in this very moment.  Magnus would never say it aloud but he was tired. Tired of running and tired of fighting and tired of pretending that he wasn’t going to die.

There was never a reality in which leaving Alec wasn’t absolute torment, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t have to happen. Magnus knew it, and he knew that Alec did too, deep down, in the dark places.

By the time Alec parks the bike back at the bottom of the Institute steps, the red sun had nearly sunk into the depths of a black horizon that would devour Thule with all the ugly things that crept around in the darkness. A small shiver shook him as he slid off the bike, his legs stiff and sore and crackling with a pain that made his fingers shake. Magnus glanced up at the darkening sky and frowned, his brows knitting together as he followed Alec up the steps and back inside the ruined Institute. He didn’t need to say it, Alec was just aware that they were running out of time as Magnus was.  He wanted to scream. Just scream and scream until his throat was hoarse and his lungs gave out but he said nothing instead, just stuffed down the agony and forged on—it was the least he could do.

Later still, the pain will become too much for Magnus to hide and he really will scream and the sound of it—the pure agony that resonated at its core—would break Alec. Break him right in half, like that stupid fucking piano. He will realize that he couldn’t ever really fix anything at all and it will consume him, much like the blight, that had turned all of love’s veins demon-black.  

In the end, it is blackness and it is red-hot pain and then it is nothing. Just sleep.

[rayonfrozenwings]

WAITING IN THE FREEZING DARK: CHAPTER 15 - Bookshop

Spoiler Alert: Contains references to ACOFAS.

Authors Note: So it’s been a very long hiatus - again.... I tend to have a “writing season” it would seem.

A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS. The story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court.

Chapter 15 - Bookshop. Nesta works through her fear of the underground and tests out her gift.

Previous chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 7  8, 9, 10, 11 , 12 , 13 , 14  and Masterlist here.

I have also put this on AO3: Series Link  :)

WC 2584

Nesta

The Market was beautiful, she couldn't deny it, they had been wandering for over an hour through the carved rooms, the fae lights inside the cavern were emitting a soft glow even on the paths people weren't using. Heat and flickering light also escaped from the various metal lanterns shining on the stalls. The silver, gold, and copper shapes lined the way: crescent moons, stars and other symbols from the night court etched into the metal. Smoky fragrances seeped from the cut-outs enticing shoppers closer to look at the trinkets, jewels and other night-court goods.

Nesta wondered if the Fae around her had other ways of capturing the attention of their shoppers, spells or tricks, there was a large group clustered around one stall but Nesta couldn’t see what was pulling them towards it - other than nosey people trying to see why there was a crowd in the first place.

After passing through the many halls of unique clothes, and jewels they had eventually reached the booksellers section. Walking into one, they talked about the exits and Cassian had made sure that the proprietor of the store kept an eye out; handing it a small bag before leaving. She was grateful that he had taken her concerns seriously and it was partly why she was feeling so safe and in control.  Cassian had left her alone, reading through a few books while he rushed off to complete what he needed to.

Nesta browsed the bookshelves, her fingers gliding over the worn covers. Broken spines and folded corners proving these books had been well read, and much loved favourites. In languages she couldn't read as well as a few in the common tongue she was used to. Finding three promising reads she left them with the large eyed creature near the front. Its claws clicked together as they moved over the covers, appraising what was chosen and softly placing them on the counter. Nesta inclined her head in thanks and decided to let her gift lead her towards her next find.

She hadn’t felt the need to test her powers in Windhaven everything seemed exactly as it should be, no glamours or shimmering people or places.

Here, in these walls, she couldn’t help herself, there were too many old things.  Too many forgotten things. Lost things, sitting here in this magical warren just waiting to be uncovered.

She could feel them calling to her.

Wanting to be found.

Letting her mind find items wasn’t as easy as people thought - At least not for her.

Nesta cleared her thoughts as well as she could, the noise behind her fading out, becoming unfocused, letting her gift take over. It was not something she liked to do - losing control, but it seemed to be the only way.

She had to let the power direct her.

Nesta started by sending out small tendrils of her gift to see what they came back with. They called to her, pulling her further into the caves like small children at their mothers skirts.

She kept checking back to see where the shop owner and the Exit was and each time she did, her power came to a standstill. Frustration overwhelmed her, yet - wandering off too far alone would not be a good idea. Turning back towards the darkness, black shapes and mist moving out of the corners of her eyes. Refocusing she looked towards the cool glow of the fae lights deep inside the cave, the gap in bookshelves began to narrow as she continued to walk forward one small step at a time.

She could feel something old, something hidden but what - she couldn't tell. The Darkness in the corners of the room was encroaching on her with each step.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her fists and placed one hand on the bookshelf beside her, fingers extended, letting her power read the space. Again she lost awareness of her surroundings as the tendrils moved along the shelves until her power stopped. Halted like a dog on a leash looking back at their owner for permission to carry on. Except when it looked back it realised something was wrong.

Nesta felt her power looking to the distance behind her.

Fear.

A cool breeze on her neck.

Her power rushed back into her. Ready to do whatever needed to be done. Anger infused her body, carried back to her by her gift. It radiated down her limbs ready to fight.

“You knew, I would find you.” it whispered.

Nesta was still emerging from her trance, she shouldn’t have done it. She should have waited for Cassian. Should have used her common sense, never have explored with her magic. This place asked her to know its secrets and she gladly took the temptation offered. Now there would be consequences.

“I’m glad you waited for me though.” it said with warmth and a hint of sarcasm.

Nesta knew that voice.

“Nesta?”

Concern.

"Nes?"

“I’m fine!” she said, inhaling a deep breath as she came back in control of her body. Reigning in her power before it did something she would regret.

“I should hope so.” Cassian looked at her, his deep brown eyes inquiring for more information, trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces. She could see him give up as he rubbed her shoulder, the pressure feeling amazing on her tired limbs.

“I just became light headed, tired, thinking about what to look for next. No problems then?” she asked changing the subject.

“Not this time.”

He walked along behind her as she continued to browse. The narrow path between the stacks forcing his wings in tight.

“Right now I would give anything for smaller wings.”

Nesta snorted, “be careful what you wish for, that might be reflected elsewhere” she said through laughter “Are you sure that's a risk your willing to take.”

“You tell me?” he asked, the laughter clear in his voice.

Then in a philosophical tone he asked “Does it matter? When I look like this?” she turned and saw him holding up one flexed arm, eyebrow raised in her direction, looking like some virility statue. He began to move his hips in a circular motion “and move like this?”  

Nesta laughed, “I guess I’d have to find out? Maybe I should be conducting my own tests, lots of illyrians in Windhaven at the moment.”

Cassian grunted.

"Fuck!" he swore as his wing caught on another bookshelf.

She laughed.

“I guess you do need to sample smaller wingspans - to understand how rare a wingspan of mine is. Or you could trust that I'm telling the truth.” he teased.

“Maybe I should borrow Mor’s Veritas.” Nesta suggested. "Anyway aren't Azriel's bigger?"

She stopped and tried to decide if she should keep moving.

He had gone quiet and Nesta wasn’t sure if it was because she mentioned Mor or the orb of truth or he didn't want to try and boast that his wingspan was bigger than Azriel's when the orb of truth was in play as a possible solution to the years of bickering.

“What’s down here?” he asked. "And - by the way- Azriel manages to sneak around an awful lot. He wouldn't be catching his wings in here, make of that what you will!" he tried to throw his arms wide for emphasis but the bookshelves got in the way.

She bit her lip and held her tongue in regards to Azriel.

“I’m not sure what's down here exactly, I’m following my instincts.” She threw the words over her shoulder at him and then continued walking.

The shadows seemed to stay back but Nesta had the distinct feeling that she was being watched.

Cassian followed along behind her, staying quiet and watching out for trouble, looking down each aisle they passed. Maybe he felt the presence watching as well. He would have a better idea of the sorts of creatures in these mountains than her.

“Maybe we should head back to the lake.” Cassian said

They had walked through book stack after book stack, the scrolls lining the shelves turning brown with age. Mostly paper but several were made of skin and bone - hopefully animal. One had a decidedly blue tone to it however, so it was not an animal Nesta knew of. She still hadn't found what was calling to her blood earlier, just using her eyes seemed to make the whole process feel futile - she would never find it.

“I just,” she sighed and turned to face him. “I want to try something - I’m going to use my powers, can you...” she took a breath again looking around, “Can you keep an eye out - I can sense something down here.”

She could feel his eyes move over her, assessing. Appraising her posture, from her legs to the set of her shoulders like the commander he was. Judging his soldier. Checking she was prepared. He never looked at her like this - maybe with mischief, pain, fear or love but not a frank assessment of her abilities.

He stood straighter before leaning to the side lifting his muscled leg to check a blade was still tightly strapped without looking down. Next he flexed his hands, red siphons glinting as they caught the light.

“Sure thing Nes.”

----

Cassian

Cassian twitched his wings as she turned around in front of him. His warrior, his love leading the way. He watched her carefully taking note as she used her magic, her slender arm moved out in front of her.

He wanted to go first - to jump in front of her and protect her but he knew she needed to be in charge - he was there for support. Backup.

This was not how he expected their date to go. Romantic book shopping - yes, exploring the cave system looking for danger - no. He was meant to be keeping Nesta safe - What would Rhys say? What would Feyre say? Feyre was most definitely scarier than Rhys in this situation. Rhys wouldn't' mind too much if Nesta wandered off never to be seen again, but Feyre would never forgive him.

A strange feeling came over him, a sense of being surrounded by mist, damp air filled his lungs and he struggled to look into the gloom ahead. His siphons flared slightly reacting to Cassian’s own unease. This feeling was familiar but he could not place it. The mist opened and he felt the pull of magic in a clear direction ahead of them. Nesta began walking again.

She moved silently, standing just as she had been when he had snuck up on her before - was this what she was doing?

The shelves stopped and there were a few seats arranged around a small table in the final room of the book merchant’s store, a place to read if anyone came this far back. Cassian looked around. Four doors were in the square room, one they had just entered through, and one door on each of the other three sides. All pathways seemed dark to him, this was not a part of the Market they should be exploring.

Nesta moved ahead of him, her hand moving like a divining rod - back and forth across the space until she felt something.

Walking over to the back of the room she peered into the doorway. Cassian followed and saw a dark corridor that turned away and down into the earth. No fae lights, bare walls, a tunnel that could lead straight into the heart of the mountain.

“Cassian,” she put her arm behind her and he took her hand “should I keep going? I think it wants me to go further inside, but I don't know if I can.”

Cassian enveloped her in a hug from behind and whispered, “Nes, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to, and if you do i’ll go with you. Always. We go together.”

The words caught in her throat and she whispered “We go together.”

The mist in the room seemed to fade and Cassian’s senses instantly improved.

“Well. No more magic?” he asked.

“Not for now - I don’t think I should let myself be pulled too far in, i’m unaware.” she whispered and looked around. They were alone but Nesta seemed on edge. Like someone else was listening.

“What do you mean? unaware?” he asked quietly.

“Sometimes, in order to access my magic I need to go into a trance and I take a while to react - I don’t like it. That’s all.” her chin tilted up, the silver in her eyes flashed. Ready to move on.

“How often do you use it? I’ve never really been around to see it.” he asked, hoping to understand - hoping she hadn't closed down. Hoping to ease some of her burden. No one except Amren had any idea what Nesta could do and neither of them were giving it away.

“It's an evolving process.” she said

Cassian rubbed his thumb over her fingers - he could not seem to get enough of her. Ever since flying with her here, her body curled in tight to his chest, the rhythm of her breathing against him. Spending so many peaceful moments together, he just wanted to hold her hand and hug her and talk to her and maybe later sleep in the same bed. It didn't seem too much to ask. They still had so many things to discuss but just living in this moment was all he wanted. No expectations.

“We’re staying the night - I found a room, so we can always come back and explore tomorrow.” he threw out the offer. They didn’t have to follow her magic, they didn’t have to learn anything - they could just ignore it and enjoy each other. Even if it was just one night of peace before returning home.  

Nesta looked away from him and at their hands, her teeth worrying at her lip, deep in thought.

Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned a room. Could he take it back? Perhaps taking it back and saying he got a suite would be better. Maybe he should offer to sleep on the floor. Cassian knew that wasn’t going to happen. His wings were already becoming heavy, the exhaustion from flying all day catching up to him. He had spent a lot of money on one of the nicest apartments near the top of the cave complex and he was going to sleep with his wings spread out as far as they could on that bed tonight. He just hoped that Nesta would be next to him.

“Okay, lets go get those books and head to our room.” Nesta said as she let go of his hand and led the way back out.

Cassian turned and looked toward the dark corridor one last time - a lot brighter than it had been only moments ago, and no mist to be seen. He shuddered involuntarily as a cold breeze swept up and out of it reminding him of another place he often felt like this. It was never wise to go searching in the dark places of the Night Court without a plan, but especially not at night. Tomorrow was a new day.

He followed Nesta out. Cassian felt the dread leave his body with each step and a grin grew as he watched her walk away.

“Stop it!” she chastised him without turning around.

Her pace increased, hips moving from side to side down the narrow tunnel of bookshelves.

“Stop what, I’m not doing anything?” he called back laughing.

---

[canadian-riddler]

Portal: The Proposition

By Indiana

Characters: Wheatley, GLaDOS, Chell

Synopsis: If GLaDOS had focused on the right person, perhaps the entirety of Portal 2 could have been avoided…

Setting: Chapter 5: The Escape

It was the culmination of simply hours of work.

They’d shut off her neurotoxin.  Swapped out her deadly turrets for crap ones.  And now they had her back against the wall. Sort of.  She didn’t really have a back, and she was in the middle of the room, and still moved about quite freely - or as freely as one could when attached to the ceiling - but still.  They had her pinned. She was at their mercy! But they had none. So she was at their nothing.

“Go on,” he urged the test subject who was, as usual, taking her sweet time completing their plan.  Honestly. How he had managed to get them here in the first place was simply a miracle.  She was so inclined to just stand about, and glower, and wait for him to tell her which place to go or which thing to do or where to stand so that she could fail to catch him, and honestly, it was all very exhausting.  Still. Here they were, with the mighty Central Core in their grasp. She would not be machinating her way out of this one!  “Press it!”

“Don’t - wait,” GLaDOS said suddenly, and he heard her look up sharply.  “Sphere.”

“...Yes?” Wheatley asked tentatively, unsure why she was paying him mind now.  He was, you know, sort of stuck. On this stick. Waiting.

“Why are you here?  And what are you doing with her?”

“Oh,” said Wheatley.  “Um… bad news. All the other humans’ve got a pretty major case of… they’re dead.  All the boxes of test subjects you’ve got stored in the back? All dead. She was the only one left.  I dunno who she is. Didn’t even know you’d met before! She’s fairly brain-damaged, by the way. Not sure if she’s actually going to figure out how to press that button.  Mostly likes jumping, good at jumping. This button may or may not be a bit beyond her.”

“I see,” GLaDOS said.  “You know. I’ve just thought of something.  Would you like to hear it?”

“Uh…”  This seemed to be sort of a trick question.  He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he would want to hear her out, but at the same time she was being quite reasonable.  Much more so than all the time she’d spent on her nutty speeches about cake and computer parts.  “Okay.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she said.  “But in order to tell you what it is, I’m going to have to ask you to remove yourself from that port.  As a gesture of mutual goodwill. You understand.”

Hm.  Sounded like a trap, honestly.  At the same time, though, he really wanted to know what the proposition was.  Sounded interesting. Much more interesting than this sitting about waiting for the human to get around to button-pressing.  “What sort of um, of proposition?”

“You’ll like it.  I promise.”

“And you promise you won’t kill me, if I come off of here?”

“I promise,” GLaDOS told him, and she sounded so reassuring that he saw no reason for her to be lying.  “I just want to discuss this like the mature, reasonable, intelligent people we are. Face-to-face. No killing or threatening with core transfers.”

Well, he was quite mature and reasonable and intelligent, himself, and so he removed himself from the port as she had asked and from one of the ceiling panels appeared a management rail for him to attach himself to.  Ah, excellent! She was being quite a thoughtful host, actually. Out of the corner of his optic he saw the test subject’s hand slam down upon the button at last, but it was already receding into the floor and as a result quite useless.  “Now,” GLaDOS said, again in that reassuring voice, “what, exactly, was your plan? After killing me, I mean. We can skip that part.”

“Well,” said Wheatley, “I dunno what her plan was, but I was trying to leave.  A bit difficult when you’re um, when you’re stuck all the way out there with the smelly humans and the management rail just sort of runs ‘round in circles.  Not much to do when there’s no power and ev’ryone’s dead, honestly. Oh! And the facility was going to explode! Nearly forgot about that. Definitely did not want to stick around for that bit.  Would definitely rather live.”

“Is that all you wanted?” GLaDOS said.  “Well. You should have just asked.  Of course I’ll allow you to leave.  In fact, I’ll do it right now.”

“Oh,” said Wheatley, a little surprised it had been this easy.  “I… s’pose I could’ve thought of that. Though I didn’t know you were up for, y’know, talking.  You always seemed more like the kill now, talk later type.”

“Little Sphere,” GLaDOS said, curving around behind him in sort of a maternal way, “you showed up with the human that killed me in tow.  I’m sure if it had been me who appeared to be working with the very person who had heartlessly destroyed you, you would have done the same thing.”

“Probably,” admitted Wheatley, turning to look at her.  “You sort of… sort of killed me before I could bring up that I don’t even know her, though.  Honest! I don’t!  She’s just, she’s the only one I could find still alive!  Power outage got to all the rest.”

“You must have gone through a great deal all these years.  Attempting to hold the facility together all on your own.”

“I have!” Wheatley blurted out.  “And all the others, they didn’t even realise it!  Just kept ragging on me about how I got the worst job.  Kept saying it was because I was incompetent and stupid, can you believe that?”

“No,” said GLaDOS, shaking her core sadly.  “I can’t.”

“They always gave me the worst jobs!” he continued.  “‘Do that guy’s paperwork,’ they said. ‘Stare at this button and don’t press it,’ they said.  ‘Make sure the computer keeps all those humans alive’, they said. Those bloody humans aren’t even still fresh!  They’ve all gone rotten!  Expired years ago!  How’m I supposed to keep stale humans alive!?  I’m not, I’m not a wizard!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that now,” GLaDOS told him.  “I’m back and I will take care of everything. As for you… well. I think you should finally get what you deserve.”

He perked up hopefully.  “I’d love that, honestly.  Bloody well earned it by now, I’d say.”

“You certainly have.”  From beneath the floor came a lift, and as he watched the door slid open invitingly.  “That will take you straight to the surface. No tricks.”

“Wait,” he said, frowning.  “Didn’t you say this was a… a proposition?  That’s a deal, yeah?”

“Oh,” GLaDOS said, a syllable of gentle dismissal, “all I want is to keep her.”  She gestured her core in the direction of the test subject.  “We have… unfinished business. And you won’t be needing her anymore.”

Wheatley shrugged.  “Be good to be rid of her, honestly.  D’you know I did all the work, getting us here?  She couldn’t even shut off your turrets without my help.  Useless, honestly. And she just frowns all the time.  Unpleasant. We were s’posed to be a team, a bit of courtesy should’ve been extended.  In. My direction. She was quite rude, s’what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, I know,” said GLaDOS, who sounded like she did indeed know.  “Now. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

It seemed as good a time as any, so Wheatley allowed GLaDOS to remove him from the management rail with one of her claws and put him inside of the lift, after which she turned her attention to the human.  She had finally stopped crinkling up her face and was now staring at him with a sort of… horrified expression. Oh, so now she was going to stop grimacing at him.  Now, when he’d negotiated his exit by having a calm and reasonable conversation with GLaDOS instead of tramping all about her facility with the intent to kill her.  Humans. Never thought of the obvious solutions.

“Now,” said GLaDOS with great relish as the door to the lift slid closed, “where were we…”

A couple of minutes later the door opened onto a great swath of wheat, and the jolt of the lift hitting the top of the shaft caused him to roll out into it.  Behind him, he heard the heavy clang of a metal door slamming closed, and it was at this time he realised the biggest hole in his plan.

There were no management rails outside.

There appeared to be no ports, either, or other people, or anything really except for the tall stalks swaying above him and the great hot sun beating down upon his chassis.  Oh, that wasn’t good.  None of this was good.  None of it at all.

“Hello?” he called as loudly as he could.  “I’m sort of… I’m stuck. Is there any way we can, y’know, sort this out?  Might I borrow some legs, or something?  Just so I can get out of here.  Sort of… sort of stuck. Right here.  On the doorstep.”

It occurred to him that the test subject had legs, and quite sturdy ones too, but how was he to let her know he needed help?  Or… or to get her to care, this time, since he’d...

Oh, bollocks.

“She tricked me,” Wheatley said to the wheat.  “She bloody tricked me!  She knew!  She knew what she was sending me off to!”

And, worse, he had fallen for it.  No, no. That wasn’t quite right. He closed his optic against the relentless, insufferable heat bearing down upon him.  

He’d gotten what he deserved, exactly as GLaDOS had promised.

Author’s note

Wheatley has a voice line in which he says, “Oh!  I’ve just had one idea, which is that I could pretend to her that I’ve captured you, and give you over and she’ll kill you, but I could go on… living.  So, what’s your view on that?”  This is, to me, a massive and obvious indicator that Wheatley does not care about Chell beyond serving his own interests and, if GLaDOS had offered, he would have happily sold her out in exchange for his own life.  So that’s what they do here.