#dove took off her top in my second edit but then there was a line about her shirt later :pensive: it's fixed now

[camellia-thea]

went back through and added and changed some stuff with anatomy because i reread it last night and found some inconsistencies

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Souvenir (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Gender neutral. My dumbass changed the request so they aren’t already together I am sorry but they needed to meet first

EDIT/DISCLAIMER: I hadn’t watched the films in LITERALLY FOREVER i got some parts wrong but for the record the fantastic beasts book does not say what mooncalves eat and i had to go as creative as possible (... grass)

Requested by: NOT anon but i forgot who requested i’m so sorry Maybe Newt introducing his partner to all of his creatures and one of the creates (possibly another bowtruckle but up to you) getting really attached Flying together on Frank the thunderbird (he's a thunderbird right?) Oh fluffy adorable feeding the baby mooncalves (Can you tell I like cute things and all of his animals?)

Word Count: 1593

You first met Newt when you were out on a late night stroll.

People always said it was dangerous to walk outside late at night, but you had magic, and that would at least protect you from no-majs with ill intent. You would never expect to run into a wizard the way you did.

There was, after all, an Erumpent with a man in a bright blue coat making the strangest movements and sounds. It was certainly interesting. Another man stood off to the side, holding a bottle that was unmistakably one that was used for potions. Once the bottle spilled, you ran closer, hoping that you could counter the effects of the potion before it caused any damage. Instead, the Erumpent turned to him and charged. There was a lot of screaming.

You followed them over the hills of Central Park and a frozen river that you absolutely did not trust to hold the weight of a grown man, much less an Erumpent. You threw a quick spell to solidify it completely, and the three of you had managed to get the Erumpent into a very small case.

"Well, it looks like we've made a new friend!" the skinnier man in the blue coat said. "Thanks for helping."

"I really didn't do anything," you replied.

"Nonsense, you froze the river, didn't you? Wonderful spellwork, by the way," he complimented.

You warily looked at the no-maj, currently trying his best to brush off whatever he had spilled on himself. You knew how dangerous it was for them to know about magic.

"Oh, I'm Newt. This is Jacob. We've been gathering all the magical creatures that... are around the city," Newt explained.

"I'm (Y/N)," you said.

You held your hand out in greeting, and he took it with a mild shake. Jacob's was only slightly firmer.

"You know, I'm good with magical creatures. They were my favourites to look for in the forest of the school I went to. If you want, I can help," you offered.

Newt smiled brightly, and motioned back to the city that surrounded you.

"Well, we've finished with this, and we've got more to do. How about we find the rest of them?"

———

Newt opened his case on the floor, nodding to it with a smile.

"Go on. I promise it's safe," he assured you.

You gave him a stern look and climbed down the ladder into a small, wooden workshop.

"Is this an expanding charm?" you called up as he started to make his own way down. "Amazing work. It's rarely ever neat when I expand anything."

"Well, it helps that I've got other magic to keep everything where it is," he grinned. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the door. You pushed it open, your mouth open in shock as you took in the desert-like area around you.

"Newt!" you exclaimed. "Do you know how much work it takes to do this? You either have very powerful magic or a lot of time on your hands."

"Well I wouldn't say I'm very powerful," he humbly responded. "I've had this case for years, and I only started with a few of these areas. Now it's a lot more, but that's not the point."

He gestured to move on, and you followed wordlessly. The disturbance in the background made it clear that it was a piece of cloth rather than the actual background, and he pushed it aside to reveal the Erumpent you had helped him retrieve.

"I found her a while ago, and I'll be returning her home once she's ready. I'd bring you closer but after recent events, I think it would be better not to cause unnecessary damage to all of New York City."

You both laughed. He led you through another curtain to where the Niffler dove into a hole, and the bowtruckles were all on a tree together.

"I'm sure you already know the bowtruckles aren't as friendly as the others in this case, but Pickett likes to hang around me sometimes," Newt said.

He put his hand out for one of the bowtruckles, who climbed onto his hand and scampered up his arm, clinging to his bowtie for a few seconds. Newt had to pull Pickett off and back into his hand, and raised him up between the two of you. You were both met each other's eyes. He looked nervous for a split second, then brought up Pickett between your line of view.

"Say hello, Pickett! This is (Y/N)."

"Hi there," you smiled.

You waved your hand to the little green creature. He jumped from Newt's hand to your shirt, and found his way to the top of your head.

"Pickett! You know you need to ask before you climb someone like that," Newt scolded.

He had his hands on his hips and glared at the bowtruckle sternly. Pickett made a noise that sounded suspiciously like blowing a raspberry and rested himself in your hair.

"I think he likes me," you laughed. "Isn't it rare for bowtruckles to be this friendly?"

"Yes, but I think-"

Newt suddenly cut himself off as a blush grew on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"You think what?" you asked.

"Um, I talk to the creatures about you sometimes? I think he remembered your name."

You hadn't known each other too long, but you figured it was enough to be good friends.

"Oh, that's nice. It's great to meet them," you said.

He gestured for you to follow him. He turned quickly as you walked, probably to hide his red face. By the time you reached a large nest, it was completely gone and replaced with a wide smile.

"This is an Occamy! They are usually very protective of their young, but I've earned her trust just enough. I'll be releasing her and her babies once they're a little more grown," Newt said.

The blue serpent-like creature inspected you as you approached the nest. A peer over the edge gave you a glimpse of a smaller Occamy, playing with its siblings. There were chirps coming from the nest. Newt brought you along to a different environment, one that looked more like a desert.

"And that's Frank," he said.

You both looked up to see a Thunderbird flying on his own in the sky. He began to drop down and land as he spotted you.

"Frank, this is my friend! Be nice," Newt said. "You can hold your hand out to him."

You hesitantly put your hand up, around where the bird's beak would be if he was in front of you. Frank shuffled his wings, then got closer until the feathers just under his eye were tickling your hand. You carefully stroked the feathers there, and he closed his eyes in content.

"I'm in America for a lot of reasons, and all of them are to bring these creatures back home," Newt said. "Tina and Queenie have been nice enough to let me stay with them while I'm still here."

"You're welcome to stay with me as well," you smiled.

You continued onto the next area, a quieter and darker one lit by a full moon on one of the curtains. The creatures were like a strange mix of a sheep and a cow with the largest eyes that didn't look like they would fit in their heads.

"Mooncalves!" you said, taking a few steps closer.

"Wait, come back. I'll have you feed them, since it's already time."

They were still a distance away. Despite their shy nature, they were still intrigued by the new addition to their temporary home. They started to get closer. After a few minutes of preparing the bowls with Newt, two of them had already gotten very close to you. They nudged your legs, knowing that you had something they wanted. When Newt walked with his bowl closer to the rest of the mooncalves, they all flocked to him. You followed behind, and some went to you.

"Throw a bit of this onto the ground right here."

He picked up a handful of what looked like rice grains and threw them across the ground. You did the same until the soil was mostly covered. Newt pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, which caused the soil to cover the little grains and grass to spring up from where they dropped instead. The mooncalves rushed over to the grass and began to graze.

"Grass seeds! It's much more convenient than carrying grass or taking them outside when there's a full moon," Newt explained.

"That's amazing," you complimented, which he bashfully brushed off.

He took your bowl and put it away. A bowtruckle returned to his tree and a niffler nearly grabbing your pen lined with shiny metal later, you both returned to your small room. It was as if you'd entered another world or a dream and were now being pulled back into reality. You stood face to face with Newt, a grin present on his.

"If you're not staying in New York too long, I think maybe you'd need a souvenir before you go," you whispered.

"What's that?"

You took a step closer to him and slowly pressed your lips to his. He brought you closer, a hand on your back to keep the both of you steady. When you pulled away, he kept his hand there.

"That might be one of the best souvenirs I'll ever receive, but I think I can find one better."

"Can you really?"

He laughed breathlessly, and pulled you closer once more.

[quicksilversquared]

The (Not-So) Truther

When a corrupted butterfly flutters by, Lila doesn't hesitate to grab it and hijack the intended akuma form for her own use. Now called the Truther, she forces people to tell lies.

...it's really unfortunate that neither she nor Hawkmoth managed to think her powers all the way through.

*Note: Written pre-season 4 release; as such, it is not S4 compliant.

links in the reblog

"I wanted to help out with the project, but there was a family emergency," Susanna insisted, widening her eyes. "My cousin got hit by a car, and we all needed to help support my aunt. I didn't even have the time to text you guys or email Mendeleev and ask for an extension."

Debbie narrowed her eyes. "And let me guess, you want us to just ignore that we did all of your work for you and not tell Mendeleev that you were completely useless as a group member?"

Susanna gasped, throwing in a sniffle at the last moment. "But I didn't mean to be, there was a family emergency!"

"Just like the last time we had a group project, and the time before that, too?"

"I have a large family!"

"And that large family needs the help and support of a random thirteen-year-old cousin whenever things happen? So much help that you don't even have the time to text?"

"Guys, guys, calm down," Jean-Paul told them, stepping between the two girls. He looked over at Debbie imploringly. "Debs, it's not that big of a deal. It wasn't a large project."

Debbie scowled at him, already feeling her blood pressure starting to rise. All he ever did was make excuses for Susanna, even when she deserved neither excuses nor any sort of help at all. "So it shouldn't have been hard for her to do her part! And it got assigned last Wednesday. You could have started working on it then!"

"I had other stuff to do during the week and I thought that my weekend would be free!"

"Debbie, it's a family emergency, just drop it," Jean-Paul insisted. "Wouldn't you want us to be understanding if you were the one with the emergency and you couldn't get the work done?"

Debbie was pretty sure that she was seeing red. "If I had a family emergency, I would have taken the two seconds that it takes to send a text and let people know ahead of time! And I wouldn't make up a family emergency just because I'm too spoiled to help!"

Susanna reeled back. "You think that I'm lying? That's so- so-"

"It's out of line," Jean-Paul finished. He was frowning at Debbie now. "You can't just go around accusing people of lying without evidence! That's just mean." He turned to Susanna. "C'mon, let's go. I'll tell Mendeleev that you helped, then it'll be two against one."

With that, Debbie's two team members turned and left, leaving Debbie standing in the hallway and staring after them, absolutely incensed. How dumb could Jean-Paul be? It was obvious to anyone with a brain that Susanna was lying and just taking advantage of his crush on her to get out of the consequences of not helping with their group project. And now he was going to tell Mendeleev that Susanna had helped, he was going to lie for her!

Debbie. Was. Mad.

For several minutes, she stewed to herself in the hallway. How was she supposed to prove that she was right and Susanna was a liar who deserved a big fat zero on the project? Jessie was right, two against one saying that Susanna had helped would make Madam Mendeleev believe them over her. There wasn't any way to prove that she was telling the truth.

...or was there? After all, she still had the texts from the entire weekend, their group chat where she and Jean-Paul had essentially planned the whole project by themselves. And the site that they had used to put together their presentation recorded edits and how much time people had spent working on it. Both would prove that Susanna hadn't done any work, and then Madam Mendeleev could reach out to Susanna's family herself to ask about the family emergency and see if it really existed. Their teacher wasn't unreasonable, unlike Ms. Bustier. She would listen if Debbie had the evidence.

Already feeling better, Debbie headed towards her classroom, a bit of a spring in her step. She wouldn't be able to approach her teacher right away- class had already started while she was busy stewing about Susanna and Jessie- but she would no doubt be held for a few minutes after class because of her tardy and she could talk to her teacher then. Their presentation wasn't going to be for a few periods yet, so she still had time.

Across the courtyard, there was a cackle of distinctly akuma-like laughter before the locker room door was casually tossed off of its hinges. Debbie took one look and dove for her class's door.

She didn't know who had been akumatized or why, but she was not going to get caught up in that mess if she could help it.

  Lila Rossi was the last person in the locker room. The bell had rung, the other students had gone to class, and she had been conveniently hidden away in a bathroom stall. She needed to be alone in the room to steal something- anything- from Chloe's locker and plant it in Marinette's.

She couldn't do the same thing that she had done before and plant one of her own possessions in Marinette's locker. No, doing the same thing twice in a row would be suspicious. But if she took something of Chloe's, the chances that the bratty blonde would notice and throw a fuss about it the next time she set foot in the locker room were high. And then, once she threw a fuss, everyone's lockers would be searched, and Marinette's reputation would be- well, not trashed right away, maybe, but it would be questioned.

And Lila wouldn't even have to lift a finger. Well, not once the initial stealing and placing of one of Chloe's things was done, that was.

Lila smirked, glancing around one more time before approaching the locker that she knew was Chloe's. She pulled it open, glanced around, and snagged a sparkly bracelet from the top shelf. It only took a minute to move it to Marinette's locker, and then Lila could move on and collect her own things. Before she could finish and leave the locker room, a purple butterfly caught her eye as it fluttered serenely across the room. Lila paused for a moment, wondering who might have attracted the akuma in the first place for half a second before she decided that it didn't matter. The original recipient didn't deserve whatever powers Hawkmoth was giving out today. Without even a second's hesitation, she pounced on the akuma. "Hawkmoth!"

"Hello, Truther," Hawkmoth's voice echoed in her head. "I am Hawkmoth. You're tired of people telling li-" He paused. "Ms. Rossi. Again?" There was a sigh. "Very well. You can take be the new Truther."

Lila screwed up her nose immediately, disgusted at the very idea. "Truther? Why would I want to make them tell the truth? Then my reputation-"

"You didn't let me finish," Hawkmoth cut across smoothly. "Your name will be the Truther, and your powers will force people to answer any question they're asked... untruthfully."

A grin appeared on Lila's face as she realized just what Hawkmoth was suggesting. How it was supposed to help him, she had no idea, but it would certainly help her. "So if I hit Ladybug with my powers and ask her if she's besties with Lila Rossi, for example, her answer will be..."

"Yes, of course, absolute best friends."

"And if I get that brat Marinette and ask why she thinks that I'm lying- if I ask her if she can prove any of my stories false-"

"She'll say that she is jealous or something similar, and that she can't prove that a single thing is fake."

"Fantastic." Lila's smirk turned vicious, and a cloud of purple enveloped her for a moment. When it cleared, the Truther stepped forward. "Time for me to go tear some people down and cement my reputation for good."

  Class had just started and Ms. Bustier was in the middle of taking attendance when the door burst open and an akuma stomped through. Marinette took one look at the akuma and her sausage-roll hair and promptly dove under the desk and out of sight before the akuma had the chance to see her.

She didn't know what had caused Lila's latest akumatization, but it was better to play it safe rather than sorry when it came to Lila-kumas. The chances that Lila was going to target her for absolutely no good reason were just too high.

Next to Marinette, Alya gasped and whipped out her phone right away. "Ladybloggers, sound the akuma alert! We have a new akuma at Collège Francois-Dupont! We don't know a name or powers yet, but-"

"I am the Truther, and I am tired of being called a liar by jealous people!" the akuma announced, and Marinette raised an eyebrow. Seriously? The Truther? That was just bizarre, considering Lila's everything. "And I make people tell the truth!"

"Marinette, what did you do?" Alya hissed. "Did you two-"

"I hadn't even seen her this morning," Marinette hissed back, already ticked off. Something about this whole situation wasn't right. The sooner she could get out of here- without getting hit- the better. She didn't trust the Truter or her powers at all. "Someone else must have called her out on her ridiculous stories."

Alya sighed. "Marinette..."

"Why would you get truth powers?" Adrien asked dubiously, standing up at his desk. Marinette very nearly screeched what are you doing?, but stopped herself just in time. She was Ladybug, she had to get out of the classroom without getting hit. "Out of everyone in this classroom, it makes the least sense for you to get powers to make people tell the truth!"

The Truther pressed a hand to her chest, looking offended. "Really, that's so hurtful! You doubt my integrity? Why else would I have gotten powers like this?"

Adrien frowned. "Uh..."

"And for doubting me, you'll be my first subject!" The Truther announced, pointing her baton at Adrien. There was a flash of light before Adrien could dodge, and then the akuma smirked at him. "And for our first demonstration- what do you think of Lila Rossi?"

"She's kind, honest, pretty, and fun to work with," Adrien said at once. His features screwed up as soon as he finished talking. "Uh..."

He glanced back at the class, his gaze catching on Marinette as confusion flashed across his face. The Truther preened.

"You see? I force people to tell the actual truth. People lie to other people, they lie to themselves." The Truther bared her teeth, triumphant. "And the truth tells me that you don't actually think that I'm a liar!"

Marinette frowned from her hiding spot. She knew full well that Adrien did think that Lila was a liar- he knew that she was a liar. He hated working with her, because she was clingy and didn't respect his space and didn't listen to directions during photoshoots. He always said that she was borderline cruel when they were alone and she wasn't playing a part for other people. So what...

Did the Truther's powers make people give answers that she liked? Or was it simpler- maybe it just made people tell lies? The opposite of what they were thinking?

Either way, this could easily turn into a disaster. Unless other people caught on to what Lila's powers actually were, Lila could have her reputation cemented by the end of the day.

(She could not let Ladybug get hit. That- that could be a disaster, depending on what questions the Truther asked.)

But how could she figure out what the Truther's powers actually were? She had to do that in order to figure out how to expose it to everyone else in the class. And to do that...

Unfortunately, she was going to have to give away the fact that she was in the classroom after all. It would be better if she didn't have to do that- it would make it easier for her to get away-

"Wait, dude, I thought that you didn't like working with Lila," Nino objected. "I asked you about it before and you said that she was a pain to work with. But you actually did like working with her? Why would you say that you didn't, then?"

"I was worried about making other people upset," Adrien said at once. "If I admitted that I was actually having fun, I might offend- might offend others."

Marinette forced herself to block out both that and Alya's whispered "see?". It was the Truther's anti-truth powers that were making Adrien say that, which meant that it wasn't anywhere close to the truth. She couldn't get distracted by any of that. She had to focus on the important stuff, like the fact that Nino's comment-slash-question meant that the Truther's powers applied to questions that other people asked, not just what the akuma asked. Which meant that if Marinette asked any questions, the powers would still come into play. But she still didn't want to give away her position. With Adrien under the Truther's powers, Marinette was the next obvious target.

Maybe Alya could ask for her? Yes, that was a great idea!

"Alya," Marinette hissed. keeping her voice low. "Ask Adrien what color the sky is."

Alya shot her a baffled look. "What color- why?"

"Please!"

Alya shot her another look, then turned back to the front. "Adrien, what color is the sky right now?"

Adrien turned to Alya, clearly confused. "It's bright orange."

There was a pause, and then his confusion turned into a grin as Alya frowned, clearly thrown off. Marinette grinned from her hiding spot, absolutely thrilled.

The Truther's powers made people give an opposite answer to the truth, and not just about Lila-related questions. That made things a whole lot easier.

"Ask him what the name of your blog is!" Marinette hissed from her spot. Alya hesitated, then nodded.

"What's the name of my Ladybug blog?"

"The Cat Chat."

"What does Mr. Agreste do for his job?" Marinette prompted. This time, there was no hesitation from Alya.

"What does your father do for a living?"

"He cleans toilets."

"Wait, what the heck is going on?" Nino demanded, standing up. "Literally none of those answers are right!"

"I think," Alya said slowly, realization clearly dawning, "that Little Miss Truther is actually Little Miss Anti-Truther. Answers are the opposite of reality with her." She scowled, turning her phone towards the akuma. "Which, if that is what her powers actually are...that makes me wonder if she was actually lying when she told us all of her stories. She's trying to suppress the truth!"

The Truther snarled and stomped. "That's a lie! I expose the truth!"

"Then explain Adrien's answers!" Nino demanded, straightening up and glaring at the akuma. "When Alya asked him questions, all of his answers were obviously lies. And don't try to claim that he was doing it on purpose to discredit you!" Nino added, jabbing a finger at the Truther. "Adrien clearly had no idea what she was trying to do when she asked her first question!"

The Truther let out a scream of frustration. "He's an actor! Clearly he was acting-"

"You said that your powers make people tell the truth in response to questions, though," Alya chimed in. "No amount of acting is going to be able to override akuma powers!"

"He is, though! And-" The Truther paused, clearly trying to come up with an excuse. "My powers only work when I'm the one asking the question. He's just exploiting a loophole."

"Really." Alya crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Then you ask Adrien what his father does for a living, then!"

"No!"

"If what you said is true, it shouldn't be a problem!" Alix chimed in, surging to her feet as well. "The fact that you're refusing proves that it's a lie!"

"Yeah!"

"Exactly!"

"What a loser, I can't believe that we believed her!"

The Truther shook her head, panic flashing across her face briefly. Clearly she hadn't expected this to happen. "No, you aren't giving me the chance to explain-"

"The chance to come up with more lies, you mean!" Kim yelled. "We aren't fooled anymore, Truther! And because Alya's streaming live, the rest of Paris isn't going to be fooled either!"

The Truther screamed, then dove for Alya. In the split-second before she was tackled, Alya flashed a look at Marinette.

"Run! You're going to be her target next!"

Marinette ran, bolting out of her hiding spot.

"That was really quick thinking, Marinette!" Tikki piped up as Marinette raced down the hallway. If she could get to the library, she could transform, go out the windows there, and then burst through the window of Ms. Bustier's classroom. "Now no one will believe anything that the Truther or Lila says! I was really worried for a minute there that she would force you and Adrien to discredit yourselves!"

"I was worried, too," Marinette admitted. "With those powers, and that name... but at least it backfired!"

If it hadn't, if Alya had given Marinette's location away and she had gotten hit... unless the Truther's powers came to light in some other way, that could have destroyed any chance of ever getting the rest of the class to believe her about Lila's lies. Even if she tried to explain things later on, she would have already been forced to discredit herself and no one would believe a single thing that she was saying.

Not that they had before, either, but there wouldn't even be a glimmer of doubt in their eyes if the Truther had been successful. And that would be super frustrating.

With a gulp, Marinette wondered if that would have been the thing to drive her to akumatization. She probably would have felt absolutely helpless to change anything and furious at Lila, trapped like a caged animal.

It was a scary picture, but at least that possibility was gone.

"We're safe," Marinette told Tikki when she got to a secluded corner of the library. She gave a determined nod to her kwami, already in Superhero Mode. "Now let's go catch ourselves a liar!"

  With the entire basis of her powers already debunked and an entire class ticked off at Lila, it didn't take long at all to bring the Truther down. The remainder of Ms. Bustier's class had already half-contained the akuma by the time Ladybug burst through the windows, and with them holding the Truther down, she couldn't throw any blasts at Ladybug. It only took a minute to find the possessed item- a bracelet- and then Ladybug was smashing it and releasing the corrupted butterfly. One purification and a Cure later, and Lila was left sulking in the middle of the classroom floor.

Ladybug frowned at that, slightly puzzled. Usually akuma victims were left somewhat disoriented after they were akumatized. None of them ever remembered what they had done during the akumatization. Everything from when the darkness bubbled over them to the purification was left a blank.

And yet Lila clearly knew that that her lies had been outed while she was akumatized. There was no reason for her to be so sulky already otherwise.

So what did that mean? She would have to talk to Tikki later and see if her kwami might have any ideas. Normally she might suspect that Lila's apparent lack of memory loss had to do with the number of times that she had been akumatized, but Mr. Ramier had been akumatized a ton of times and always seemed to have a moment of "huh?" whenever he came out of it.

...did Lila's response maybe indicate that the akumatization had been a choice?

There wouldn't be any way to prove that if it was true, Ladybug knew. It wasn't like Lila would actually tell her the truth if she asked about it. But it was something that she might have to keep an eye on in the future.

"I would ask if you and Lila were actually friends or not, but I think I might know the answer already," Alya told Ladybug dryly, rubbing at her elbow absently. The Miraculous Cure might have fixed all of the assorted injuries that people had gotten for fighting an akuma without superpowers, but sometimes phantom pains from the injuries that people had gotten lingered for a few minutes. "Wow, that akumatization sure backfired on her. I bet she's ticked off at Hawkmoth right now."

Ladybug had to grin at that. "Yeah, we definitely aren't friends of any sort. And, uh." She paused, unsure about if she wanted to continue. On one hand, it would really help if she could get more evidence either confirming or denying Lila's willing participation in her akumatization, and now that Alya had caught on to the lies, she would definitely be all over that. On the other hand, if she was wrong and Lila hadn't gotten akumatized on purpose, then she might just be stirring things up in the classroom even more. She warred with herself for a moment, then decided to go for it. If it made things worse for Lila, well, Lila deserved it. "I kind of found the akumatization really weird. Like, had anyone even talked to Lila today?"

Alya frowned at that. "Huh. I- I don't know for sure, but I don't think so. The only people who have ever obviously not liked Lila were Adrien and Marinette, and they had gone up to the classroom before Lila even got to school. Then I think Lila went to the bathroom, and- actually, I didn't see her again before I came up, and I was down there practically until the bell rang." She looked at Ladybug and gasped. "Do- do you think that she got akumatized on purpose?"

Well, yes, but Ladybug wasn't about to say that. "I don't know, but I am curious. Do you think that you could maybe do a little investigative work for me and see if anyone talked to Lila this morning before she got akumatized? Talked and implied that she was lying, that is. Or if there was anyone else in the school today who was upset about someone lying, because maybe they would have been Hawkmoth's initial target."

Alya was already nodding. "Yeah, I'll do that! And I'll tell you next time I see you- if it's safe, I know, I know!" she added before Ladybug could say anything. "I'm not going to take any risks or get in your way during a fight!"

Ladybug doubted that a little bit- Alya could sometimes be really single-minded when recording for the Ladyblog and often put herself in dangerous situations without fully realized it- but she appreciated the thought. "Right. And it's not, like, urgent information," she told Alya. "It's not like we could really do anything about it, since akuma victims are off-limits prosecution-wise and we can't prove anything. But it would just be interesting information for the future. So seriously, there's no rush to tell me as soon as you find out, whenever's fine."

(She would almost definitely be getting updates from Alya as Marinette as well, so really, it didn't matter when Ladybug was told.)

Alya nodded, clearly still determined to gather her data as quickly and thoroughly as possible. "Of course! And- and thank you for trusting me with the job after I, uh, didn't fact-check Lila at all before," she added, a little quieter. "I'll do better in the future."

"I'm glad to hear that! But for now- bug out!" Ladybug flashed the class- well, besides Lila, who was still scowling, and Adrien, who had vanished- a smile, then cast out her yo-yo and zipped off before she could start laughing at Lila's misfortune.

Really, if Lila had willingly been akumatized, that was possibly the funniest thing to happen in a while. It had backfired on her spectacularly, destroying all of her credibility in one go. No one was going to believe her now, and unless Ladybug's ears had been deceiving her, Ms. Bustier had already been on the phone with Lila's mom by the time she took off. Lila's kingdom was falling down around her ears, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it now.

And really, it was all thanks to Hawkmoth.

[everybodyscupoftea]

to grandmother’s house we go

sigma chi jj x reader

you bring jj to your family’s christmas

ope. two days late again 

(warnings: a little bit of cursing, minor editing)

The first Christmas JJ came home with you, you felt like you should warn him. The two of you had been together for just over two years, and he was used to your immediate family, but your extended family was a different story.

“Okay,” you started when he crossed over the state line into your home state, “I feel like I should say that we aren’t going to be at my house much.”

“What?” he asked, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, um, my family normally goes to stay out of town with my Grandma. We do one half of the family on Christmas Eve and the other half on Christmas Day.”

JJ raised his eyebrows, “Your family knows I’m coming right? Like your extended family?”

“Yeah, definitely! My mom told them.”

“And they were okay with it?” he asked, sounding cautious.

“They’re eager to meet you,” you reassured him, “I think they’re just happy to see me finally dating someone.”

He snorted, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, well, my family lives to pressure my sister and I into marriage.”

“Wait,” he looked a little panicked, “they’re not expecting us to be engaged, right?”

“No, but they might bring it up. Just ignore it.”

“I-” he cut himself off, “okay, if you say so.”

You were just glad the conversation had gone as well as it did.

-

“Three hours?” JJ hissed at you when your dad took both of your duffle bags out of the car and stuck them in your parents’ trunk.

“It’s a long drive,” you offered innocently, “but at least you don’t have to drive.”

“Nope, just get to sit in the backseat.”

“J, at least you get a window seat, I’m sitting in the middle.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah and you’re going to fall asleep on me no more than 45 minutes in.”

“Slander,” you protested.

Your sister walked out in time to hear him and she laughed, “He’s right.”

“You can’t talk,” you argued, “you’re worse than me.”

“Twins,” she singsonged in a high pitched voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“Brought headphones for this ride thank god.”

“I can be louder than headphones,” she spoke confidently.

JJ let you climb in first before reaching across you to give your sister a fist bump, and you sighed, “I hate that you two know each other. Y’all are the worst together.”

He squeezed your thigh, “You love us.”

“Unfortunately,” you muttered.

-

You did fall asleep, but much to your satisfaction, so did JJ. Your sister woke you up first when you pulled into your grandma’s driveway, elbowing you straight in the ribs. Jolting, you woke up JJ immediately, and his head flew up from where it was resting on top of yours, looking around wildly.

“Christ,” you muttered, glaring at your sister, “that was rude as hell.”

“I got a cute picture of you two.”

You paused, “Okay, send it to me.”

JJ blinked adorably, trying to get a grasp on his surroundings, and mumbled, “Did we make it?”

“Yeah, bud,” you told him, grabbing his hand.

He smiled softly, maybe even a little thankfully, and took a deep breath, “Okay, let’s do this.” 

“If it makes you feel better,” your sister leaned around you to talk to him, “you aren’t meeting the problematic side of our family until tomorrow.” 

JJ paused for a second to process, then nodded, “That does actually, thank you.” 

Before you could say anything else, JJ climbed out of the car, seemingly more awake, to help your dad carry in the bags and presents for his side of the family. Your dad nodded at him, a satisfied little smile on his face, “Thanks, son.” 

“You’re welcome, sir.” 

Together they carried them through the porch to where your grandma was waiting with the door open. Your sister muttered, “Kiss up,” under her breath, and you snorted. 

“He’s trying to make a good impression on grandma and pawpaw, we both know that they’re super laid back and judge more based on conversational ability, but he doesn’t.” 

She widened her eyes at you, “You didn’t tell him?” 

“I didn’t tell him we were staying here until like five hours ago.” 

“Oh my god,” she muttered, “you’re actually a disaster.” 

-

Your grandma cooked dinner, traditional Christmas dinner with the turkey and ham, macaroni and cheese, dressing, sweet potato casserole, and green beans. JJ was staring at it in confusion, arms stiffly by his side even though you knew he’d normally have an arm around your shoulder.

Leaning into his side a little, you told him, “We eat steak on the actual holiday here, that’s why it’s traditional early. You don’t have to look so scared, bud. I promise they’re super chill.” 

“What does everyone want to drink?” your grandma asked before JJ could react.

“Water,” you answered, and JJ nodded, signalling the same. 

“Guests first,” your pawpaw urged, and JJ hesitantly grabbed one of the plates in the stack to start filling it up. He was careful to not spill anything, and his grip on the plate was like steel. You reached over to pat his hand in some sort of effort to soothe him, and he relaxed the slightest bit.

Until he finished and walked over to the table where there were five spots for 10 people. You almost ran into his back, “J, what’s wrong.” 

“Where do I sit,” he hissed, clearly anxious about it.

“Find a place with a glass of water and sit there. It’s not like assigned,” you answered, secretly hoping you could steer him toward the seat you normally sat in.

You did, and he sat down, not starting to eat right off the bat until he saw you dig in. It was slow, as if he was trying to wait for everyone to sit down, but you elbowed him until he picked up the pace.

“I’m trying to be polite,” he whispered.

“Trust me, you wanna hit the dessert before my dad.” 

JJ snorted, finally relaxing a bit. Your grandma, cousin and his girlfriend, and sister sat down next and immediately started asking JJ questions about his major, his frat, his favorite hobbies, and what he wanted to do in the future.

That he’d gone through before, with your immediate family, and he had the answers on deck. He spoke confidently, and you could tell your grandma was impressed. It helped him relax, and by the time everyone moved to the living room to watch a Christmas movie before bed, he sat on the couch next to you and was even comfortable enough to put an arm around your shoulder.

When he left to get ready for bed in the one bathroom, your pawpaw finally spoke up, “He’s a good kid.” 

“He’s the best,” you agreed.

“We got him a gift,” your aunt added, “so that he has something to open on Christmas Day.” 

You teared up, knowing it would mean the world to him. JJ didn’t talk about his childhood much, especially holidays. You knew he had no interest in going home to his dad, and from what you did know, there was never much of a Christmas celebration involving gifts.

“Thank you guys so much,” you finally managed.

-

Immediately JJ went straight back into discomfort mode as soon as your family walked into your aunt’s house. Everyone was already there, and the small house felt stuffed.

You leaned close, “Party vibes, huh? Should be pretty familiar.”

He snorted, “Not even close.”

“This is the problematic side,” your sister reminded him, “they’ll definitely get in your business and you’re going to hear a ton of small town gossip.”

“ The gossip is pretty interesting,” you admitted, “but the yearly questioning isn’t the best.”

“How often do you see your family?” JJ asked.

“Christmas. And sometimes a trip during the summer.”

He hummed, and followed you and your sister deeper into the house. Your sister took over, introducing him to whoever you ran into on the way. You could hear your mom in the kitchen catching up with her sister, and your dad took his normal spot on the couch with your uncle and cousins.

JJ shook hands with your favorite cousin, who immediately started asking him questions.

“How’d you two meet?”

Glancing over at you, JJ cleared his throat, “We were in the same orientation group and became friends through that.”

He hummed, looking at the two of you skeptically before turning back to JJ, “Major?”

“Marine biology.”

“You fish?”

JJ nodded eagerly, finally in his element, “Definitely.”

“Saltwater or fresh?”

“Either, but back home mostly salt.”

Your cousin looked impressed, “Where are you from?”

“Outer Banks of North Carolina.”

“Sometime when it warms back up, you’ll have to come visit again and we’ll go fishing.”

“Looking forward to it.”

JJ relaxed, stretching back into the couch a bit while the conversation picked back up around him. Your cousins’ kids were in another room napping, and you leaned over to him, “We’re getting the gossip early while the kids sleep. Board games after lunch.”

And as you explained, your grandmother dove into the rumors she’d heard about the new pastor in town. She leaned forward and you knew it was going to be a particularly interesting take.

“And then we saw the preacher’s wife smoking a cigarette outside the movie theatre.”

Your sister dramatically gasped, “How dare she?”

You snorted, but your grandmother, used to ignoring both of you, kept on talking until she finally came back around and landed on your sister.

“Your sister has a boyfriend, when will you be bringing one for us to meet?” she asked.

“Well, whenever I can get a boy to like me, I guess.”

She looked at JJ, “Are you planning on marrying my granddaughter.”

He froze, staring at your grandmother with wide eyes, “We haven’t really, uh, talked about marriage.”

“Mhmm, yet here you are, at family Christmas.”

“Okay, grandmother,” you cut in, “he’s family, and you know family doesn’t have to be by blood or marriage. It can be friendship.”

“You love her?” your grandmother ignored you to ask.

JJ reached over and took your hand, meeting your grandmother’s eyes, “Of course.”

She nodded and backed off, seemingly satisfied with his answer. Turning back to your sister, she added, “I expect a boy to be at Christmas with you soon, young lady.”

“What if it’s a girl?” your sister asked, clearly trying to egg her on.

“I’ll take either at this point.”

Clapping your hand over your mouth, you held in a loud laugh at your sister’s indignant face, and your dad didn’t even try. JJ squeezed your hand and you looked over to see his eyes squinted, biting his lip, to hold in his laughs. 

“Just wait until I never get married,” your sister crossed her arms with a huff.

-

“I’m going to murder you,” your uncle glared at you, “you better stop looking at my sheet.”

You scoffed, “Don’t put it in my eyesight then. Hold it up.”

“Just don’t cheat!” he exclaimed.

“Not cheating, just using my resources.”

And when he didn’t respond, you started crossing out the weapons on the sheet your uncle had just accidentally let you see. Your sister cleared her throat, “Well since he threatened her, Colonel Mustard is the killer and I’d like to make an accusation.”

“We started five minutes ago,” your cousin told her, “hush.”

She lunged forward and almost elbowed JJ’s empty gumbo bowl off the table. 

“Hey,” your dad yelled, “relax.”

“No. I simply will not relax until you let me accuse.”

“Dude, you haven’t even had a turn yet,” you rolled your eyes

“I’ve been looking at mom’s card,” she admitted.

Your mom gasped, scooting away from her, “Cheater!”

“How’s it feel to raise two cheaters,” your uncle taunted your mom.

“Only at board games,” you added, looking over at JJ.

He smiled at you, clearly amused at everything unfolding. The game went on for 30 minutes before JJ eventually won it. Your sister glared at him, “Should’ve left you at Grandma’s.”

Reaching over to ruffle her hair, he teased, “Sore loser.”

“I’m keeping your gift.”

“You won’t.”

“I will. Better show some respect.”

“Respect is earned.”

Her jaw dropped and your mom snorted, “Give up now.”

Your sister, always needing the last word, “Watch out, new kid, you’re the replaceable one here.”

JJ leaned forward, elbows on the table to look into her narrowed eyes, “Until I propose.”

Cheeks heating, you stared at him in shock, and he moved back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Damn,” your dad coughed, “got her again.”

“Okay, any present marked JJ comes to me now,” she announced, “now that we’re family.”

Before anyone else could answer, one of the kids walked in holding a box, and your cousin stood, “Time for presents.”

JJ had a few, one from your parents, two from your grandmother, and a couple your cousins chipped in on. His eyes widened when he actually had a small pile, mostly gift cards, but he was still excited.

And at the end of the night, the five of you walked out to the car to drive back to your grandma’s house. Your dad looked at JJ over his shoulder, “You made it through. How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good.”

“Well, you got yourself a standing invitation.”

JJ’s smile was small but pleased as he stared at the window. You reached down to grab his hand and he squeezed in response. Right as you got to your grandma’s house, it hit midnight, and you leaned over to kiss his cheek, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

~

day 10 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: visiting relatives

[queenxxxsupreme]

Cuddle Your Toddler Challenge - dad!witchers edition

A/N: Please ignore that tvs don’t exist in the witcher universe. Just a little reminder that requests are open! Here is the link to add yourself to my taglist and here is the link to my masterlist. 

Lambert 

Lambert let out a heavy sigh as he laid across the sofa, putting his head into Eva’s lap. She looked down at him, little eyebrows drawing together for a moment before she smiled and rubbed his head. 

“Okay, daddy?” She asked. The two-year-old wasn’t the best at forming complete sentences but she was getting there. 

“Just tired.”

“You shouldn’t stay up past your bedtime.” You spoke from the kitchen.

“I’ll try to remember that next time I have you bent….” Lambert trailed off, realizing Eva was in the room and what he was about to say was not child appropriate. 

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. 

Lambert rolled his eyes, turning over onto his back so he could look up at Eva. 

“Hi, daddy.” She smiled, her chubby little cheeks rosy pink. She brushed her hand over his scruffy jaw and his chin, in awe at the feeling of his stubble against her fingers. 

“Hi, baby.”

Lambert closed his eyes in an attempt to get some rest. However, he could feel Eva staring at him still. 

“Eva?”

“Yes, daddy?”

“Staring isn’t nice.”

She giggled, still running her fingers through his hair. But then her fingers curled around his dark hair and she tugged. 

Lambert grunted, opening his eyes to find his daughter laughing like what she had done was the funniest thing ever. 

“Pulling my hair isn’t nice either.”

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, holding his face as best as she could with both her hands. 

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Apology not accepted.” He moved, propping himself up on one elbow and then he began to tickle her. 

Her sweet laughter filled the room, warming your chest and making you smile. Her happiness was contagious. 

“Mommy! Help!” She squealed, trying to squirm away as Lambert tickled her.

Eskel 

“Should we make the trip this winter?” Eskel asked you, brows drawn together as he leaned towards you. He stood next to you in the window of the main room, looking out over the front yard. 

Orange, yellow, and red leaves littered the yard. Winter was coming fast this year. 

“If you’d like.” You turned your head to look at him. “You haven’t been home since before Nadia was born. And Vesemir has yet to meet his granddaughter.”

“It’s just…. It’s a long journey.” Eskel looked away from you, his eyes drawn to Nadia. She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace on a fur blanket, giggling at something on the tv. “Especially with her.”

“I think it would be lovely to go to Kaer Morhen.” You put your hand upon your husband’s arm, offering him a smile. “It’s not too terribly cold yet, and she has plenty of clothes we can bundle her up in.”

“The elements aren’t what I’m worried about. It’s the danger that comes with traveling across the North, especially a witcher with a woman and a young child.”

“You’d never let anything happen to us.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

Before he could say anything, Nadia was calling for him. 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, my love?” Eskel turned to give her his full attention. 

“Lay with me.” 

The tension that had been weighing heavy on the witcher’s shoulders disappeared and his golden eyes lightened. 

You smiled, your ribs aching at how your husband melted. 

He put his hand on your arm before going over to Nadia. She patted her lap. 

Eskel got down on to the floor, laying his head in her lap. Nadia brushed her little hand across the side of his face which happened to be the side littered with scars.

Eskel stiffened up. It always happened when anyone touched his scars. All the fear and self-image issues he had came rising to the surface. He’d gotten better over the years you’d known him, and especially since Nadia was born, but the trauma was still there. 

Nadia carefully brushed her fingers over each red line, eyes gazing at him curiously, softly. She had never asked about his scars, never questioned their existence on Eskel’s face. To her, they were normal. They were nothing to be shameful of. They didn’t make him into a monster he thought himself to be. They didn’t define who the witcher was. He was still her father, still the one she seeked when she had nightmares and the first one she wanted to hold her when there was a thunderstorm. 

Her touch trailed down the side of his face to his lips. Eske kissed her tiny fingertips, smiling when she giggled. 

“Sweet girl.”

Nadia leaned down to kiss his scarred cheek. 

“Love you, daddy.” She whispered, brushing her hair back out of her face. 

Eskel took a deep breath, holding back the tears that threatened to rush down his cheeks. 

“I love you.” He turned to cradle the back of her head and kiss her nose. 

“No! I love you!” Nadia declared a little louder, kissing his forehead.

“I love you more!” Eskel kissed her cheek. 

You giggled, brushing the tears from your cheeks as you watched them. 

Geralt 

Geralt yawned, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. He sat at the kitchen table, keeping you company while you patched a pair of Bram’s pants. 

“Why’d you do that, daddy?” Lana asked from the sofa, taking her eyes off of the television for a split second to look at her father. 

“Do what, little dove?”

“You yawned.”

“I’m tired.” He gave her a little smile. 

“Come lay down then.” She patted the couch next to her. “Like you did with mommy last night.”

You smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Last night, Geralt had a headache. You sat on the sofa with his head in your lap while you watched tv. 

Geralt looked at you for a moment, a little smile tugged at his lips. You have him a nod, encouraging him to take Lana’s offer. 

He rose from the table and moved across the room to the sofa. Lana moved a little and then watched her father settle down on the sofa, his long legs awkwardly bent to try to fit all the way on the sofa. He very carefully placed his head in her lap, afraid to hurt her. She was such a tiny little three year old and he seemed gigantic compared to her. 

Lana placed her hand on his hair and started to brush her hand over his white locks, smiling down at him. 

“I love you, little dove.”

“Love you more, daddy!” She giggled, then her attention was taken back to the tv. 

Your heart melted at the sight of your husband, built as sturdy and solid as a stone wall, lay with his head in your toddler’s lap. 

Bram walked into the room a few minutes later. The eight-year-old looked at his father and sister and giggled, then moved to you. 

“Are my pants fixed yet?”

“Not yet, love.” You showed him the patch you were working on. “If you weren’t so rough on your clothes, they wouldn’t need patched so often, you know.”

“I can’t help it.” He grinned mischievously. 

He moved towards the sofa and climbed up on top of Geralt’s back. 

“You’re comfy.” He commented, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder. 

The witcher chuckled, closing his eyes as he let out a soft breath.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Field of Flowers

Written for the Kidge Spring Event! 

Prompt 7: Daffodil | Unequaled Love, New Beginnings

Summary: It was just another normal day for Youtuber Katie "Pidge" Holt. She and her boyfriend were going to spend a few hours recording some stuff in Minecraft for their channels and then probably wrangle their friends into a few rounds of Among Us. Except Keith has a question designed to derail all of those plans. 

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Pidge settled in at her desk and took a look around to make sure there was nothing odd in the background of her webcam. There was only her cat, Tesla, who was relaxing in his carpeted tree, which was sure to thrill her viewers. On the desk in front of her were two monitors, one which displayed all of her recording details, as well as the service she and her boyfriend were using to communicate while they played. The bigger monitor was showing the main screen of Minecraft.

She put on her headphones and adjusted her mic. “Keith, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Everything all set up?” he asked.

Pidge glanced up at her webcam as she nodded. “Yup! I'm just going to put you on mute to run through my intro and then we can get started. You can hop in if you want and I'll join once I'm ready.”

“Sounds good. I'll see you in a few.”

She quickly muted the audio for his channel and gave it a few seconds to make sure she couldn't hear him as he loaded up their game. Then she sat up straight and began recording. “Hey, everyone! I'm TechOwl and today we'll be jumping back into Minecraft with the always handsome KHawkins. As always, there will be a link to his channel in the description and I encourage you to check out his stuff as well.”

Pidge hit join and easily found their usual world, typing in the password so she could join. She waited to unmute until the world had loaded in and caught Keith in mid-sentence when she did.

“...tower and arming it with bows and arrows, so I'll need to expand the chicken farm. Pidge will probably – hi, Pidge – probably help with harvesting flint,” Keith said.

“I'll see what I can gather up while I'm mining,” Pidge said as she opened her inventory to try and remember where she left off. She had a whole row of iron pickaxes and plenty of wood and coal, so she had probably come up to drop off everything in the vault beneath their house and to grab some food. “Actually, let me see what's in the Vault first.”

“You're back at the house?”

“Yeah, I think I was getting food. My bar's pretty low,” Pidge responded. She directed her character through the trapdoor in the corner and rode the ladder down 25 blocks to a room she'd carved out during their first few videos together. Double chests lined the walls and also had signs to go along with them. She went to the section for stones and took a peek into the box labeled 'gravel'. “We only have a stack of it. I'll go find more once I get some food. There's probably a vein of it somewhere in my tunnels that I haven't bothered collecting yet.”

“It'll be a while before I need it, so there's no real rush,” Keith told her. “I still have to build the watchtower and I won't get to that until I'm finished with the gardens.”

Pidge frowned as she went back up the ladder to get into the food chest in their house. “I thought we had way more gravel than that. Have you used any?”

“I used a few stacks of that and the sand to make some concrete a while back,” Keith said.

Pidge guessed that meant they were nearly out of sand as well. It was a bit of a venture to get to the desert biome where she'd harvested most of it, but that could wait for a while. “Anything else I can mine for you, oh-masterful-builder-of-the-world-above?”

“No, I think that's about it,” Keith responded, his tone light. “I thank you for your service, oh-lady-of-the-deep-earth.”

Pidge snorted with amusement as she grabbed a stack of food and ate until her hunger bar was full. She kept a few cooked pork chops in her inventory and put the rest back before turning to go back down into the complex labyrinth of her mine. She got halfway down the ladder before she swore and turned to go back up and fetch more wood, filling up the empty slots in her inventory so she could drop off the extras into the Vault. She kept one full stack of 64 wood blocks on her and then ventured through the double doors leading into the mine.

Pidge spent the next hour combing over her tunnels and collecting any gravel she came across using the iron shovels she specifically built for that purpose. She also collected a decent number of chunks of flint and took all of it back up to the surface with her once she was through.

All the while, she and Keith carried on a conversation for the sake of entertaining their audiences – their banter was often something that was most talked about between their fanbases, with numerous jokes gaining meme-like status. Their friends were fond of quoting those memes back at them whenever they played games together.

“Hey, where do you want all of this gravel and flint?” Pidge asked once she was back in the house. Once again, she had to pause to grab a snack from their food chest as she started taking hunger damage.

“Gravel can stay down there. I have a double chest at the bottom of the watchtower. The flint... yeah, go ahead and bring the flint up to me. I'm at the top. You should look over the edge and check out the garden from up here too. I'll stand on the side you should look over,” Keith said, sounding as though he was leaning away from his microphone. “Hang on, I've gotta run and get something. Go ahead and come up.”

“On my way,” Pidge responded.

She left the house and then looked up, spotting the watchtower immediately. It was a massive wooden structure that stretched high into the sky, though it didn't look like it was all the way up to the build height. She stopped at the base to drop off the stacks of gravel and then hopped on the ladder and rode it all the way to the top. It was there that she found Keith's character standing motionless to one side.

“I'll just drop these off here first,” Pidge said, cracking open the single chest that was next to the ladder. She dropped off the 24 flints and then backed out of the inventory so she could enjoy the sky-high view of the gardens that Keith had spent several sessions working on.

She hopped up on the side where he was standing and looked down. She could see the food garden off to one side, stretching down along the plot of land they took the time to flatten out. To the left of them was a field of flowers and as she looked at them, she realized they spelled something out.

“Wait...” she breathed as her mind caught up with what she was seeing.

Spelled out with red flowers was the question: “Will you marry me?”

Pidge tugged off her headphones and turned in her chair, ready to run downstairs and confront her boyfriend, but he was already there in her office, waiting for her with that soft smile on his face. ���Keith?”

He walked into the room and knelt down in front of her, taking her hand with his own. “I've been in love with you from the first day we met. I didn't know it at the time. It took a few people pointing it out to me. Or, well, a lot of people,” he chuckled, “but eventually I figured it out. I never thought I would have the opportunity to find such happiness in my life and it's thanks to you that I have. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you in it.”

Pidge hiccuped as she tried to breathe in, reaching up to cover her mouth even as tears of happiness began to spill from her eyes. “Keith...”

Keith cracked open a tiny black box and held it out for Pidge to see the slender silver ring inside. It was inset with three green jewels – not the traditional diamond, but she'd never been fond of those anyway. “Katie Holt, will you marry me?”

She nodded, swallowing thickly so she could try and get the words out. “Yes! Yes, I will.” She slid out of her chair with a breathless laugh and into his arms, unable to wait until he could slip the ring onto her finger. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then another and another until Keith was shaking from laughter and had to ask if she even wanted the ring.

Pidge pulled away from him, a great big smile on her face as she held out her hand in response, allowing him to put the ring on her finger. And then she dove right back in, kissing him with all that she had to make up for her lack of words.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Bonus Scene

“Coran! Coran, you have to come see this!” Allura shouted in excitement.

She could hear him running down the hall from his office, where he was working on editing their newest video together, and was soon striding over to her side while asking if everything was alright. Allura responded with a smile and by hitting play on what she had been watching.

“...-ver the edge and check out the garden from up here too. I'll stand on the side you should look over,” Keith's voice came through the speakers.

Allura eagerly watched Coran and knew the exact moment when Keith's proposal was revealed by the way Coran suddenly squealed in delight. She glanced back at the screen in time to watch it fade away from the flowers and then fade back in with a photo of Pidge and Keith, who were smiling at the camera. Pidge held up her left hand so a beautiful ring could be seen. It was also accompanied by the words: “She said yes!”

“How exciting!” Coran said, grinning broadly. “We must do something to celebrate! Dinner, perhaps? I'll call Hunk and begin preparations!”

Before Allura could agree or disagree with his idea, Coran was gone. She laughed softly and took out her phone to send out a warning to the rest of the group so they wouldn't be too blindsided.

It was certainly an event worth celebrating.

[em0avacado]

The Beehive bookstore - Angel Reyes x OC (part one)

A/N : Hey! I know I kinda dipped for a little bit but, the holidays were jam packed and I hope you all had a good one. I’m gonna try to make a little series, I don’t have the whole thing planned out yet but I wanted to get to writing and posting anyways. So. here we are. Side note. Thank you for all the positivity i’ve gotten from y’all, your’re all fuckin’ great.

word count : 2.1K

trigger warnings : gun violence, mentions of blood, cursing? i think that’s it tho.

tag list :

@mayans-sauce

“What do you think of cocaine?” the question ran ridiculously loud in Eldrids ears, one that raised both concern and curiosity. Shutting the book with nimble fingers trailing over the inked pages, she furrowed together her dark brows as her gaze shifted to one of the other employees at the book store she managed.

It was a cute little shop, shelves lined every wall, even made little path ways between genres, easily explorable. A quaint shop tucked away in the nooks and crannies of Santo Padre. Easily accessible, if you knew where to look. An empty cart that was usually used to haul the new arrivals into place, but all that was done. There had been one customer in the last few hours, so it was really only Eldrid and one other employee, Asher. There wasn’t anything to do, so her nose was buried deep in another world.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, her brows furrowed so deep it left faint marks in her forehead. Pushing her glasses up further the bridge of her nose, she set her book down in front of her, on the smoothly finished wooden counter where the cash register sat on.

Ashers eyes blew wide, scrambling quickly and putting his hands out in front of him. “woah, I meant - not like. I’m not asking if you want any or know where to get any.” he said, defensively. His hands kept up in the same stance. “I just meant that, well, what if our shop is a front for something... bigger?” he suggested, raising both brows. Eldrid shook her head at that, Asher always had some sort of conspiracy theory going, always believed aliens would take over one day, perhaps robots, thinks the world is gonna end up like some sort of real life version of the movie ‘Wall-E’. Some of the things this kid would come up wiyh were very out of the ordinary. He hadn’t been working at the shop for too long, a few months tops, he had gotten into college during those months but kept up his work there. A lot of the time he was able to study during his shift, and was paid the hours he was there. A sweet kid, looked rougher around the edges than he really was.

“I think that maybe you should get back to your studies.” she said with a soft laugh, watching as Asher, once again, protested, but shook his head instead. He set his notebook down.

“No, no. Listen, Eldrid. Look at it this way, in the nineteen eighties, about. The Orejuela brothers would run legitimate businesses, small, unexpected ones, as a front and to launder money they made while they ran drugs for the big bucks” he rambled on, earning another shake of the head from his manager. “c’mon you’ve never heard of the Cali Cartel? You have to have heard of them. The biggest, and one of the longest running cartels in the history of cartels!” he spoke with passion, an undeniable one, and he looked at her with his big green eyes, his hands out stretched.

Eldrid was about to respond, of course she knew what he was talking about, but she was interrupted, by him, and further utters of conspiracy. “How do you think we’re still paid, very well, hourly and over time, we get bonuses all the time, and there’s hardly anyone ever in here!”

She snapped her wandering gaze over at Asher again, having drifted to surveillance the shop shortly when the front door jingle, signalling someone entering. “not another word about it, Asher. Study.” she demanded, before turning her attention away from a quietly muttering punk at one of her tables.

“Good evening Mr. Reyes.” she hummed a soft greeting, seeing the grey haired man walk into the shop, followed by his youngest son, the only, of which, she’d met. Despite him only coming in as of recently, she knew him well, theyd chatter as he looked for books, she knew he preferred older pieces of literature and she’d started occasionally setting ones she believed they’d both enjoy, to the side. “and Mr. Reyes.” greeting him in the same polite manner as she did the older gentleman. Their town was small, and she heard whispers on the street, more so from people who took the shop as a quiet place to gossip. She knew Ezekiel had come out of prison not too long ago, yet he seemed fairly well put together.

The soft, kind smile never left the woman’s face.

“Hello, Eldrid. good to see you again, sorry for dropping in so late, Ez wanted to tag along again today.” the older one of the two apologized as she dove down, setting a stack of books on the counter before waving them both over.

“no need to apologize, we’re still open for another...” she trailed off to check the watch that sat on her wrist, it’s leather bands hugging it well. “half an hour so do as you please, these are a few of the newest editions that caught my eye, i figured you’d both enjoy these so have a look.” she spoke, watching as both men began to look through the pile, talking amongst themselves while she busied herself with other things.

“Hey, Eldrid.” Ezekiel started, several books tucked beneath his arm. “do you think that, if I come back Monday, this one would still be around?” he asked, his index finger stuck to a book that sat on the counter.

Raising her brows only to furrow them, Eldrid looked at the man incredulously, but nodding her head. “considering we aren’t open weekends, and are about to close, on a Friday, yes. i believe so.” she informed him, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone.

“perfect, so I’ll take these, and be back Monday.” he said, and she nodded, ringing both through and wishing them farewell before she started, alongside Asher, closing up shop for the weekend. With her bag strapped to her shoulders, she locked the back doors, and the front ones, as both left the building. Going home for the weekend.

Weekends aren’t usually a huge deal for Eldrid, the shop had become like a second home to her, and never felt a lot like work in the first place. When she was in her little apartment, it was all about self care, and laying back with her dog laying on the corner of the bed as she did whatever she wanted during her time away from work. She wasn’t big on going out, nor did she have all too many friends, she knew one would expect more from a woman in her mid twenties to be more active with going out, but she preferred to protect herself and her peace. The next Monday morning, bright and early, El strolled down the street that led to her cozy little book shop. There shouldn’t be too much restocking, she wasn’t expecting any arrivals this weekend, so unless the boss was in during those two days, there wouldn’t be too much to do. Unlocking the front, and letting herself in, Eldrid headed to the back to start a pot of coffee for when Asher, or whichever employee that was to help her today, came in within the next half an hour.

She was in the midst of setting her bag into the shelf when several loud crashes interrupted the silence, dropping the the floor when she head guns starting to penetrate the front windows, glass shattering as bullets littered every corner of the front of her shop. She hadn’t realized that she had gasped, and held her breath, panting, she cradled her hands around her head, staying pinned to the ground until there was nothing but silence. Her ears rang loud, as sobs racked her chest, heaving, her panic set in heavily. She didn’t dare move until quite a bit later, when she carefully stood to her feet with tear stained cheeks. Shaking, Eldrid grabbed her phone and called her boss.

After three rings, the man on the other end picked up with a casual “Hello?”

“Mr. Galindo, it’s Eldrid Orejuela. Y-“ she was bound to continue but he interrupted her with a gleeful “Good Morning” and “How are things at the shop?”

“that’s actually what I was - I was calling you about. I just got in, and while I was making coffee.. uh.. There was shooting, and the windows are broken. I’m- I’m so sorry the windows are broken I don’t know what happened.” she stuttered a few of her words, being still shaken up. She was met with silence, then Miguel spoke up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“no.”

“good. Have you called the police?”

“No. Did you want me to?”

“Please do so. I’ll be there shortly.”

After that, Eldrid hung up the phone to Mr. Galindo, and called the authorities, right after she hung up with them, filling them in, she dared to head into the front room. It was destroyed, bullets littered every shelf, lodged in many books, shards of glass laid in every corner. She placed a hand over her mouth, looking around, in complete shock. Her attention shot towards the door when the bell jingles, tears glazed over her eyes moments earlier. She didn’t recognize the man, but he wore the same vest that Ezekiel wore, though, he was taller, had more facial hair. He looked to her,she could’ve sworn that she saw a hint of concern in his eyes, but who wouldn’t.

“Um, I’m sorry, but we aren’t currently serving customers, there’s been... A minor set back.” she nodded, wiping her cheeks, and trying to sound professional despite the last few minutes.

“Clearly.” he spoke, in a ‘duh’ tone of voice. “are you alright? I saw vans speeding off while on my way in, figured I’d check if anyone was hurt.” he said.

“Thank you.” she said, feeling strangely drawn to him, the man was, a sight for sore eyes to say the least, his hands looked strong, his shirt hugging his biceps perfectly and the concern on his face.. Adorable, if he could be labeled as such. Eldrid tugged her cardigan tighter to her body, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I’ll be fine. Police is on their way.” she nodded.

Quickly approaching, the man caught her as her head felt heavy, then suddenly very light. On her way down, she had fallen into his arms, instead of on the shards on the ground. “maybe you should sit, did you get hit?” he asked, settling her on one of the chairs.

“no.” she muttered, rubbing her forehead, hissing at the pain that struck suddenly, very strongly. Pulling her hand back, she saw it had an all too familiar copper liquid staining her fingers. “I must’ve hit my head, when - when i was in the back I dove for cover and-“ she muttered, looking up at him when she heard the sound of police sirens echoing, hurting her throbbing head further. Seconds later, Miguel and Nestor walked past the threshold of the door quickly, looking for Eldrid.

“Eldrid!” Called out Nestor, someone who had been a friend to her for years, he alone, was the reason she had the job she adored, he’d set her up for it, suggesting the young woman to Miguel for the shop. He rushed to her side, kneeling in front of her carefully, he caressed her cheek, cradling her face in his hand. “are you okay? you’re bleeding.” he pointed oht, glancing up to the other man, his impression soured but returned to that same glance of worry when it shifted back to Eldrid.

“Paramedics are in the front, you’re getting checked out before anything else.” Miguel said, giving a nod to Nestor to take her out front. His eyes fixated on the man that had just had his hands on their Eldrid. She felt the tension, but couldn’t put her finger on it, with her head throbbing.

After a few minutes of getting poked and prodded, both with questions and medical supplies, she saw the man from a few minutes prior walk away from the scene.

“See ya around, Ellie.” he said as he walked passed her, she didn’t reply with much but a weak wave of her hand. Everything felt like a dream, it’d happened so fast, but also so slow. Nothing felt real. Did she really meet a man who saved her from further head injuries, and not get his name? Or did she imagine that? was her head really that out of place? Couldn’t be. Would she ever see this man again? Why was he there so early?

“It’s Eldrid!” She called after him, being met with only a chuckle.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part VIII

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person requested and I dove into headfirst

First part // Previous part // Next part

Send me requests for other fics, ideas for this one, opinions, whatever! My apologies if the quality seems to have one downhill; I'll be doing minor edits for the sake of readability when I have a good chunk of free time.

“Shhh, guys, leave it,” Jens said. Everyone’s comments died on their tongues. Zoë and Moyo herded the superfluous students from the room and left as well, shutting the door behind. Moyo almost clapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it in favor of a saddened smile. It didn’t really help. Robbe wasn’t sure if they ended tonight on good terms.

“We’re going to bed early,” Aaron suggested. “We have to get a jump on those damn exams.”

“Leave it,” hissed Jens.

“I was just saying, we’re—”

“Leave it.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Robbe. “We’re going to bed early.” He hadn’t realized how angry he was all week until faced with its culmination. And now—now he was tired. Stupid and single and tired.

There were still no sheets on his bed; he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them. He could perform a cleaning spell on the mattress if it got too bad in their absence. Whatever. Robbe couldn’t be bothered to rifle through his trunk for a cleaner blanket, so he crossed the room and grabbed the one off the fourth bed.

Motherfucker. It smelled like Sander. He really couldn’t win, could he? Robbe threw the blanket to the decimated floor and curled up without any covering at all.

“He wasn’t that attractive,” said Jens, breaking his own rule. “Had to get those roots done again.”

Robbe clamped his pillow over his ears. “Shut up.”

“We haven’t been to Hogsmede in a while. Might be nice to go tomorrow. The four of us.”

Hogsmede. Robbe’s eyes burned.

“I need to stop at Honeyduke’s,” Aaron agreed. “It’s Live It Up week.”

“I’d fancy a pint at the Three Broomsticks.”

The Three Broomsticks. Robbe was not going to cry over this. It brought him back to Sander explaining their fake love story to Zoë, all the little accurate details, all the possibility… that’s all it was. A story. You don’t like me. He cast the Muffliato charm across his four-poster before the tears started flowing. Once they started, they didn’t stop until morning.

“You don’t have to tell us a thing,” Jens said. “We understand.”

I want to, Robbe thought. He rolled over and faced the wall for the remainder of the night.

***

As much as he would love to hardcore sulk, Robbe had never been that kind of person. Sander was gone. They weren’t even together for that long, so there wasn’t much sulking warranted. He took Saturday and Sunday as unofficial off-days before exams, in that he spent them with Jens, Moyo, and Aaron, pointedly not talking about Sander. They did not go to the Three Broomsticks. Jens passed a whole afternoon in Honeyduke’s, attempting to sample every flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor beans.

Okay, Robbe sulked. But not hardcore.

Robbe resolved that one Monday he would snap out of it in time to guard his outstandingin his five classes. What should he do? What had he learned? He could start there. Starting there was something.

1. He should never drop a class for someone he wasn’t really dating.

Robbe’s Potions exam was the first on Monday, and he went into it grossly unprepared, despite hours of common room studying. There was a large difference between reading theory and enacting what it said. Plus, a lot of his library time focused more on Sander’s eyes than on the written material.

Everyone else chopped up their beans and sprinkled them into their brews without difficulty. Robbe couldn’t remember how many he should use. In the end, he dumped a whole handful in completely whole and stirred counter-clockwise. How much could it hurt, anyway? He left fifteen minutes before the exam period was up, and the Potions master did not bother to stop him. The Drought of Living Death he prepared could probably kill the whole class, Britt and all, even if not in the way it was meant to.

Why had he stopped attending in person? What could Britt have done to him? It hit him—she probably knew the dating thing was fake from the beginning. Sander might have planned it all out to make Robbe look like an idiot.

That wouldn’t account for that night in the workshop.

Fuck that night in the workshop.

Sander waited outside the Potions classroom, his back on the wooden doorframe. Britt would be done soon. It didn’t give Robbe any satisfaction to brush by Sander without speaking—or at least, not until he saw Sander rubbing his arm in the aftermath. Robbe must have hit him with the door.

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder, hoping it sounded blasé.

It could have been anyone there, he thought. Sander wasn’t special anymore. Then he went to his bedroom and stared at the wall over it.

2. He was not straight.

The specifics were, as of yet, unclear. He was in love with Sander, which meant he liked boys, but he’d kind of liked Noor too. Not romantically. Or even sexually. But like, he enjoyed her company.

Sometimes.

He wasn’t in love with Sander anymore, though, definitely not. Robbe figured if he told himself that at least four to five times a day, it might become a little more accurate. Two weeks was too short a time to fall for someone.

After all this, he needed to get Jens alone and lay it all on at once. Bad phrasing be damned. The boys began packing their belongings on Wednesday, after a mostly uneventful Transfiguration exam (Moyo turned his cockroach into a pair of earrings that still moved their spindly antennae—he seemed satisfied). They would leave on Saturday afternoon. Aaron tried a simple cleaning spell, Scourgify, and ended up scattering his belongings to the four corners of the castle. He scurried away to pack the rest manually, Moyo at his heels to help.

Jens and Robbe were alone. Robbe was ready to talk about it.

“Why is Moyo always here?” asked Jens, in a way that made it sound like he was breaking the tension.

His plan failed, of course, because Robbe was already speaking. “We have to talk about something.”

They stared at each other. Jens blinked.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” Robbe began. “I wanted to, but it was always so complicated.”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Jens shoved a crumpled shirt into his trunk, followed by a pair of ripped slacks he could never wear to class again.

“This thing I had with Sander… it was fake to him. But, well, uh, to me—”

Jens nodded. “I know.”

Damnit, no.

“Jens,” Robbe tried a second time, “I’ve realized some things about myself recently. They kind of explain other things, from earlier, so…” He switched tactics. Who knew how long until Moyo and Aaron returned? “Do you remember when you and Jana broke up? How you found out about what’s-his-name and—”

Another shirt in the trunk. Some more destroyed pants. “Yeah.”

“Cool. So um, you should understand that it was—” It was never this awkward to talk to Jens before. Jens was supposed to be easy. Robbe folded his shirts by hand, like his mother did, and placed them carefully in his own luggage as he thought of how best to phrase this. “I did it on purpose. She was gonna tell you and I—well I said—”

“You’re not making sense.”

“I know things about myself now. Learned them. From that. and this.” Here it came, the big jump. Even though Robbe knew Jens, Aaron, and Moyo outlined a whole plan to get him and Sander together, he still worried about what they’d say when confronted with the reality of it. “Jens, I’m—"

“I know.”

No, that wouldn’t work. Again, “Jens, please, I’m—”

“It’s okay, Robbe, I know—”

“I don’t want you to know!” Robbe flopped a shirt down harder than he intended. “I want you to let me say it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gay. That’s who I am. With or without Sander. Okay? I need you to understand that it’s like that with or without him.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you know. You’re my best friend.”

“Okay,” said Jens. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Jens closed his trunk on top of some clothing that spilled out the sides. He sat down on it to close the latch. Then he reached out and gathered Robbe into the tightest hug ever. It wasn’t nearly everything that Robbe wanted to say, but it was some, and Jens didn’t run away from him. Sexuality crisis, somewhat had. Robbe was sure there would be more later.

3. You don’t like me.

Robbe’s final exam was History of Magic. Luckily, his cramming paid off. He breezed through the questions on the first and second wars faster than any of his peers and was out the door within thirty minutes.

Most students were trapped in their classrooms for another half-hour or more. Empty corridor stretched in all directions, and Robbe didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. He knew where he wanted to go.

Sure enough, his astronomy tower perch was vacant. Bright sunlight dyed the campus in shades of yellow and gold, made the upper turrets appear as drawings from a children’s book. Robbe noted in passing that someone had collected Sander’s picnic blanket from its forlorn position on the roof. That made sense. Filch himself must have cleaned.

From overhead, soft music played. Robbe was sure he was hallucinating. He sat down on the sill.

Oh fuck, maybe not hallucinating. Noon cast a shadow of someone above onto the roof below.

Sander’s blanket wasn’t where he’d dropped it on night one because Sander sat on the overhang above the window. He had it splayed across the shingles, a compact player oozing the final lines of that same damn song on a loop, his wand gripped in his hands.

Robbe couldn’t escape him. Couldn’t escape how he felt about him. He could bring it under his control if he made it look purposeful.

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t you have class?”

Sander startled.

This was a mistake. Never mind. Robbe should go.

He leaned even further out the window for a better view of Sander’s setup. A stack of textbooks balanced precariously, end on end, held aloft by a complicated charm of some sort. A quill rolled down the roof and stopped as if by an invisible wall. Sander had created a bubble for his things.

“Cheers to exams,” Robbe said, a bit louder. Sander did not look at him. The music cranked itself up to mask Robbe’s voice—perhaps it was spelled to muffle all noise Sander did not want to hear. That wasn’t fair. “This is my spot.”

“You said you didn’t want to be friends,” said Sander. He didn’t sound upset. Why did Robbe expect him to be upset?

“Can you turn down the music?”

“Britt’s going to join me.”

“That isn’t really what I asked.” Robbe wondered if interactions like this would ever stop hurting. But he didn’t feel as bad as he felt last week. Or on Friday night. Maybe the finality of a no was all he needed to move on. He recalled Sander’s speech word-for-word, mostly the end. You don’t like me.

It hit Robbe in a moment of irrational bravery, when Sander’s music dialed up in volume. Their first night in the astronomy tower, together, illuminated by Britt’s wand. The CD playing in the background. Sander knew what he was wearing on a specific double-date on a specific day—there was no denying something existed between them.

And to have Sander talk like that, say it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing, not to Robbe, and Sander needed to hear it.

So he said it. No introduction, no nothing. “I liked you.”

The Major-Tom-planet song quieted. Definitely some kind of magic there.

“I liked you so much,” he said again. Now that it existed, now that it was said, there was nothing to stop him from continuing. “You can’t tell me I didn’t.”

One of Sander’s quills rolled to the edge of the bubble, only this time, it dropped out and fell the length of the tower.

“We made it up, we agreed,” Sander whispered. “I’m sorry.” He slid down from the roof, landing beside Robbe on the sill, then jumped to the floor. His belongings trailed behind him in a floating line.

Robbe stood his ground and blocked the staircase. “It’s not your thing to decide.” His voice softened. “I liked you. So that’s that. And it’s done.”

Sander scuffed the floor with his shoe.

“Good. You never have to see me again.” Robbe pointed down the stairs for dramatic effect. “I have class. Bye.”

He felt lighter than he had all week when he descended the staircase. Any lighter, and he would have missed it when Sander said, “I liked you, too.”

4. He was a jerk to Noor.

Robbe sought her out on the train home, abandoning his friends in their own little compartment. They had plenty to discuss without his involvement. Pranks and whatnot. The usual. Noor was alone in a compartment near the back of the train, a dozen or so scrolls of parchment dispersed around her. She wrote on one with a broken quill.

She wasn’t a bad person. Robbe should have just told her. The least he could do was tell her when everything was over.

“Hey,” he said, taking the seat across from her.

She looked up, surprised. “Hello.”

“You seemed like you could use some company.”

Noor blushed. “No, I—Britt’s sitting elsewhere, and I have a lot to do.”

“With Sander,” Robbe supplied.

“What?”

“Britt’s with Sander.”

“Oh, um, actually—”

Robbe wasn’t in the mood for the nitty-gritty details of whatever Britt and Sander had going on. Obviously it was toxic. Not his problem. Besides, this conversation was for Noor’s sake, not his own.

“Listen, about me and him,” he said. “I need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.” He hoped it wouldn’t get awkward. The extent of his recent planning was pretty much just say it without warning and hope it works out.

“I don’t read smoke signals,” said Noor curtly. She set her quill down on the seat next to her, ink stains bleeding into the cushioning. “But I get it.”

“No, it was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Awkward silence. Robbe wasn’t built for prolonged chatter with anyone besides Jens, Moyo, and Aaron. The girls’ group was the exception, and only when Jana and Zoë were present. He fiddled with the beginning of a hole in his yellow sweater.

“I suppose I should apologize too,” said Noor, after a while. “That was fucked up, to say he’d get bored of you. I was a little—well, you know.”

“If it helps,” Robbe said, “you were right.”

Noor frowned. She sat up in her seat, and her parchment fell to the carriage floor. The sweets trolley passed by their sliding doorway without stopping��its driver could likely sense the tension. Robbe explained, “He’s back with Britt.”

“No, he isn’t,” said Noor. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Jana said—”

“Who would know better: Jana, or me?”

Robbe fumbled for something to say in response. Actually, now was a pretty good time to get out, before the topic became any more serious. He said, “He broke up with me.”

“It wasn’t for Britt. She helped him through some stuff, sure, but everyone knows that train’s come and gone.”

“I guess I’m just boring,” Robbe said.

“Bullshit.” Noor picked up her parchment again. She dipped her quill into her ink and began her writing anew, on whatever mess this was. Robbe couldn’t read fucking cursive. “I don’t believe it. Britt says he adored you.”

Robbe didn’t know what to make of that. There was no way he could segue into his next point, which was, of course, that their dating arrangement wasn’t real in the first place, especially after something so honest from Noor. He gave a bullshit excuse, something about chasing the sweets trolley, and got the hell out of there.

***

Robbe said goodbye to Moyo on the train platform. Jens and Aaron lived close enough that their parents parked in the same general vicinity, meaning that they could walk over as a trio. Robbe considered awaiting Sander on the platform as well. Every time he learned something new about Sander’s behavior when he wasn’t there, he got more and more confused. What fake relationship could be convincing enough to have Sander’s ex lamenting its reality?

The boys shared idle gossip on their way to the parking lot. Nothing substantial. Robbe’s head was too full of thoughts, most of them Sander-related. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or tired right now. How did knowing one little thing from Noor make a difference in his overall mood? They split off to their respective parents with casual goodbyes and a promise to write at least once during the holidays.

“Hey,” called Jens, just as Robbe opened the shotgun side.

Robbe turned back, his rucksack swinging off his shoulder. He swiped a hand across his eyes.

“Were you in love with him? Actually?”

They spent two weeks together. Two weeks, plus months and months of pining from afar that couldn’t count for much. It was supposed to last longer. What had Sander said, that day after their date? He wanted it to continue through the holiday break. And now, nothing. Robbe summarized this feeling the only way he knew how: “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

He climbed into his mother’s waiting car, and with that, it was Christmastime at the Ijzermans house.

[vannahfanfics]

Limited Edition

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

Sero lovin’ hours, babes! Behold the fluff!

EDIT: Photo was made by the amazing @deliathedork who showers me in love and beautimous doodles~

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

“Denki.” Hanta called as he rounded the stair landing to the boys’ side of the third floor. He grimaced in the entryway of the hall, staring pointedly at the door to the room that belonged to one blonde-haired electric generator. When he got no answer, Hanta began walking down the hallway calling his name in increasing volume, “Denki. Deeeeennnkiiiiiiiii!” By the time he reached the door, he was practically screaming. “DENKI KAMINARI!” he shouted in such an unholy screech that Tenya opened his door to glare disapprovingly at him. Finally, Denki threw the door open to give him a wheedling whine, his gaming headset slung around his neck and muted.

“Dude, what?”

“Where’s my shirt?” Hanta asked with an innocent smile. Tenya rolled his eyes and shut the door with just the amount of volume to serve as a warning for Hanta to keep quiet. He continued to smile stupidly at Denki, only thinly veiling the mounting threat of violence building up in him as his friend began to perspire and laugh nervously.

“What shirt?” As if feigning innocence would work on Hanta. Denki gulped loudly as the taller boy leaned into the doorway, towering over him with glittering black eyes and a menacing grin.

“You know, the shirt I let you borrow two weeks ago? My limited-edition ONE OK ROCK concert tee that is my sole most valued possession?” Hanta pressed, continuing to edge into the doorway until Denki was bending at a forty-five-degree angle. Denki laughed in an anxious high pitch, his eyes shifting around and refusing to settle on Hanta’s gradually reddening face.

“Oh! That one! Hehe! Well… Thing is… I kinda… don’t know where it is,” Denki admitted in a tiny voice. A few terrifying seconds passed as Hanta processed the confession. Denki finally looked up into his eyes, which were probably soulless as Hanta contemplated just how he would like to murder the oblivious boy. “Bro? You good?”

“Good? Good? Yeah, I’m good,” Hanta shrugged as she suddenly backed off, leaving Denki reeling in confusion. His instincts must’ve tipped him off, because he screamed and ducked under Hanta’s arms as he suddenly lunged at him with a feral yowl. “Yeah, I’m good, because I’m about to kill you!” Sobbing apologies, Denki managed to wriggle past him and take off down the hallway towards the stairs. Hanta whirled on his heel, shooting his tape down the hall and only just barely missing Denki’s elbow as he practically dove down the stairs. “Get back here! Atone for your sins!” Hanta yowled as he chased him, thundering down the stairs on all fours. He could hear Denki’s manic blubbering floating up from within the stairwell. Sero had to admit the little shit was fast, because he couldn’t catch up to him.

“Baku-bro! Baku-bro, save me!” Denki screeched as he vaulted himself a good five feet across the room and clambered over the back of the couch into a very startled Katsuki’s lap.

“What the- get off me!” Katsuki huffed and shoved poor Denki to the floor. Denki looked at Hanta over the top of the couch fearfully as he stalked him, eyes blown wide with desire for homicide.

“He’s gonna kill me!”

“You probably deserve it.”

“Whoa, whoa, guys!” Izuku laughed good-naturedly and stood up, waving his hands placatingly at Hanta. “What’s the problem?”

“He lost my fucking tee-shirt!” Hanta fumed and lunged over the back of the couch to try and rip out a few of Denki’s hairs. The boy managed to crawl under the coffee table and slink over to Fumikage, who was watching with his arms crossed. “My favorite shirt! Limited edition ONE OK ROCK! Limited edition!” Hanta screamed like a deranged man as he crawled over the couch and shot his tape at Denki, who was pleading for Fumikage to save him.

“I side with him on this one. Any last words before you meet God?” Fumikage smirked. Denki wailed as Hanta shot tape at him, this time finding his mark. Denki screamed in dismay as Hanta jumped up on the table and slowly dragged him closer, eyes flashing with pure anger.

“Please! I’m sorry! Spare me!” Denki sobbed as he was lugged over the rug by the unhinged Hanta. Just as the boy had captured his prey and was preparing to strike, a sweet voice piped up from the back of the other couch.

“Um, do you mean this shirt?” Hanta and Denki both looked up to see Mina staring owlishly at them, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and the shirt that Hanta was ready to kill Denki over. Hanta’s face instantly flushed a pretty shade of crimson and steam blew out of his ears in nostrils at the sight of the pretty girl wearing his tee shirt. It was pretty much a not-so-secret in their friend group that Hanta had a stupid crush on Mina.

“Um… Yeah, yeah, that’s the one,” Hanta quipped with an equally wide-eyed stare. He unwound his tape from Denki, who slunk away to get cradled in Eijirou’s manly bosom as he patted his head and whispered reassuring words. He hopped down from the table as Mina walked around the couch, sashaying shyly.

“Um, I found it in my laundry last week. I mistook it for one of the girls’, but they said it wasn’t theirs, and when I asked a couple of the boys, they said they had no idea whose it was or where it came from, so it kinda became my new PJ shirt,” she laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of her head. Sero’s dark eyebrows knitted together as he had the sudden suspicion a plot was afoot. She scratched at her cheek thoughtfully. “You can have it back if it’s that special to you though!”

“Um…” Hanta knew there was a specific answer to the question, but she didn’t give him the time to do so. She grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him upstairs to her room, bringing him straight inside and swinging open the closet door. As he saw the shirt fly onto the bed, discarded, Sero’s cheeks burned with the acute awareness that Mina was shirtless behind that flimsy closet door. Focus, Hanta… he told himself as he patiently waited for her to switch shirts. She walked out to pluck it up and carry it over, holding it out to him with a big smile.

“Here you go! Sorry about the misunderstanding.”

“Uh, no big deal…” he said dully as he accepted the shirt. She scampered right past him into the hallway to rejoin the group in the common area, and Hanta’s eyes followed her as he left, captivated simply by her being. He absentmindedly brought the shirt up to his face and nearly fainted when he realized it carried her scent like bubble gum and cherries. Nirvana… he thought dimly as he collapsed into the hallway wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hanta was mounting the stairs to head to his room later that night after a pretty rowdy session of videogames with Denki (who, after being cornered by Hanta with Eijirou’s help) had all but admitted he had purposely slipped the shirt into Mina’s laundry basket in an attempt to spark something between them. Hanta had been a little irritated with his pitiful effort to wingman for him, but, Hanta had to guess that he was a little grateful. Denki was doing it just because he wanted Hanta to be happy, after all. Hanta had agreed to let bygones be bygones (especially since his shirt was safe and sound) and settled in to play with Denki for a while. Now, he was mounting the final step with the shirt slung over his shoulder. He paused mid-step as he heard Mina’s voice floating down the hall from the direction of Momo’s room. Curious, he inched closer.

“Thanks for the tea, Momo.”

“No problem. A cup of good tea will do wonders for a saddened heart,” Momo responded. Hanta’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. Why was Mina sad?

“I know it’s silly to be sad about it. I just really liked that shirt, you know? It was super comfy.” Hanta didn’t know why that made him happy, but it did. “Besides, it reminded me of Hanta. I knew it was his when I took it…” Hanta felt a shiver propagate from his head to his toes. He didn’t know what to do with that information. She knew? Why would she take it…? He could almost imagine her hugging herself as she sighed, “It just made me feel so warm and safe…” With flushed cheeks, Hanta looked at the tee shirt draped over his shoulder. Quietly, he pulled it off and hung it on the doorknob, being extremely careful not to alert the girls to his presence. Then, he turned on his heel and marched right off to his room.

Sure, his shirt was limited edition and precious to him- but Mina’s smile was one of a kind, and much, much dearer to his heart. He tried not to smile when he heard her delighted exclaim of surprise from within his room, nor when she texted him a picture of herself back in the tee shirt, beaming with a peace sign over her eyes and the simple tag Thanks, Hanta! <3 He stared at the picture for a while, thumb hovering over the screen as he tried to find a good way to respond.

Anything for my best girl! he decided, watching as the bubble appeared on the screen with an audible swoosh! She sent a series of hearts back in response, and he dropped his phone down onto his chest as he put his hands on his face, kicking his feet a little with an excited squeal. He jumped when he heart Tenya pound his fist into the wall next to him.

“Be quiet, or I swear to God, I’m spilling everything to Mina.”

“Does everyone know?!” he cried as he bolt upright in bed, half-amused and half-terrified.

“Of course everyone knows! You smile like an idiot anytime she’s within your line of sight. Now go to bed! Shoto and I are studying in here.” Hanta laughed as he heard the dull thump of Tenya smacking the hot-and-cold boy's pillow into the wall. Hanta flopped back down against his bed, looking at the adorable picture of Mina in his tee shirt again.

Yup. Limited edition, one of a kind.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

[hey-hamlet]

‘BANHA’ Fic

aka, my friend who hasn’t watched bnha got really pissed when I told her about Bakugo and Izuku’s old middle school. So pissed, in fact, that she wrote almost 3000 words of a character created solely for this purpose beating the tar out of Bakugo. 

Shes my idol. 

(I edited the names for spelling and edited the dialogue for speech patterns in exactly two scenes. See if you can pick all 3 edited lines) 

“Happy birthday Arlea!” Arlea Hunter started from where she was sitting and chewing on cereal like it was going out of style. Aunty Chitose placed a small cake on the table by Arlea’s bowl, a single candle on top, she gave her a bright smile.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything,” Arlea said, looking at the cake, it looked delicious. With white frosting that was layered thickly and the words ‘Happy birthday’ scrawled in purple icing. Arlea blew out the candle. Putting her hands together. Squeezing her eyes shut to make a wish. Her Aunty ruffled her hair.

“What are you saying? Of course I’d get you a cake, although it’s a bit little, you can’t share it with your friends.” She said.

“It’s ok, I wouldn’t want to share it either way.” Arlea pointed out. “Except for you of course,” she added, standing to pick up the knife from the counter. proceeding to cut it into quarters.

“Oh, thank you very much, and I’m going to eat three pieces then?” she asked.

“Alright fine, Uncle Hideki and Hanabi can have some too.”

“You two will have to pack it then, since you’re almost late for school.” My aunt pointed out, moving back to the kitchen. Arlea glanced at the clock and almost swore. Scrambling to pick up her lunchbox and carefully pack the cake.

“Hanabi come on down! There’s cake here for you!” Arlea’s Aunt called. it was accompanied by the sounds of frantic footsteps. Eventually Hanabi made it down the stairs, with school bag in hand and her blonde streaked brown hair bouncing around her heart-shaped face. The little princess of the family, with sharp bright blue eyes and a killer smile. Arlea really took time to reflect how different their families were.

Her cousin was a year younger than her, and had an outgoing happy personality, cute sized, whereas Arlea was willowy, with straight drab hair that looked almost black, black eyes. and while she had a quirk of an infectious smile. Arlea’s dove wings wasn’t exactly as useful. It’s not as if she could use them. she reflected ruefully

“Thanks mum!” Hanabi squealed, sitting at the table. “Not now, pack it or we will be late.” Arlea commented. Hanabi glancing at the clock and jumping up again.

“I can’t be late today! I promised Haru I’d help her paint one of the school festival posters.” Hanabi grabbed her back and bolted for the doorway. Arlea shifted past, letting the girl go past her without knocking both of them over. She turned back and packed the second piece for Hanabi, placing both lunchboxes in her bag. She was used to her airheaded cousin forgetting things, and definitely loved her for it. Hanabi made Arlea feel good and reliable. Isn’t that a sad realisation? She mused. heading out the door at an angle and calling her goodbyes to her aunt.

“Come on! move those wings, if we’re late I’m blaming you!” Hanabi called, she grinned at Arlea without any malice. Setting a brisk pace along the sidewalk. Arlea caught up easily, she was taller than her cousin by a couple centimetres. Arlea wasn’t exactly new to Japan, her mum had been from here, and she’d been born here. but growing up in a different culture entirely, and coming back at the age of 15, 12 years later was an… experience.

Specifically the school life, ending up going to Aldera middle school wasn’t exactly fun. It wasn’t a great school, but her area wasn’t a great area, and it would be expensive to send two near-high schoolers to a private school. Public schools weren’t a problem though, after all, if Arlea could survive a public school in Woodridge Australia, she could survive anything.

The school gates loomed ahead and Hanabi called out to her friend Haru. A small girl with curly dark hair, glasses, and a shy personality. Haru smiled, waving at us both.

“Good morning Hanabi, Senpai!” she greeted. Arlea gave her a smile, Hanabi was already dragging her off however.

“I’ll see you at lunch!” She called back. Arlea gave a little snort, unlikely, until she figured out Arlea had her lunch. She didn’t blame her cousin. They had only gotten closer over the past year Arlea had been here, but that probably wasn’t entirely by choice. It’s been a year since Arlea’s mother died, and she had to move to this second-rate school. At least she could get into a better high school.

-

She was sitting with her friends when Hanabi came running over. A slightly panicked look on her face. I smiled at her.

“Forget your lunch today?” Arlea asked her as she reached where Arlea and her friends were eating lunch, a small little side-hall that was open enough to have cool air come through and bright enough for a nice atmosphere. But as she drew closer Arlea’s smile fell. She looked absolutely terrified. Pale faced, on the verge of tears.

“The- that kid in your grade! They’re… beating him up.” She said between sobbing breaths. Hanabi reached her too. She was crying.

“That’s Deku, leave him be, it happens.” One of Arlea’s friends commented. Hanabi cousin looked at him, her face starting to get blotchy as the redness of running took over her straight panic.

“They look like they’re beating him to death! They’re not stopping!” Hanabi rushed out. Arlea looked at her, then stood up.

“Where are the teachers?” Arlea’s friends watched her silently, a few of them staring at their lunches, but no longer eating them. There was something wrong about this situation, sure people were bullied in Australia, but it tended to stop once a teacher was in view.

“They’re just watching!” Hanabi half-shouted. Arlea turned an accusing eye on her friends. Seeing no support on the kid’s side. no cry of outrage.

“Where?” She asked seriously, ignoring the slight shake of  her friend Satoru’s head. Hanabi took off though, and Arlea went after her. Haru following them from behind. Taking a couple shortcuts through empty classrooms Arlea could see where people were gathered on the second floor above one of the yards, staring down at the commotion. Hanabi was slowing down. Arlea slid to a stop next to the furthest student, hearing someone shouting.

“I’m doing you a favour Deku, you’re better off dead than quirkless!” The voice below called up, loud enough to be heard from here. Arlea felt a cold snap of rage, gripping the windowsill she jumped up, Hanabi turned back, calling her name. Arlea leapt out, aiming for Bakugo. One of the popular kids in her grade. He had a cascade of sparks, ready to use it on the kid that was already bleeding from most of his face. His shoulder looked dislocated too, he looked up at Arlea through one eye, the other puffed shut, his lip was broken and bleeding, and he had a serious burn mark on the right side of his neck.

Arlea heard movement and turned her attention. Bakugo stood up, disorientated, Arlea looked at him, gripping her hands into fists, temper, temper. If she lost it now the teachers might actually do something.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” one of the ones holding the boy asked. she turned on him.

“Let him go, or I’ll cut off your creepy salad fingers.” Arlea said. he let the boy go, he crumpled to the ground.

“Get lost, or I’ll give you the same to you, shithead.” Bakugo replied coldly, walking over threateningly. Arlea looked at his face, altogether much too perfect, maybe a broken tooth might teach him a lesson. She decided. He reached her and she rounded a hit on him before he could see the fist coming. The wet slap of her flesh against his face satisfyingly echoing in the semi-empty yard.

“Bakugo!” Someone called from behind, Arlea turned as one of the less active of the bullies ran at her. She gave a cold laugh, before leaping on him, wings outspread in a terrible arch as she twisted into the air, bringing the entire force of her body and slamming into him.

“That’s enough!” someone shouted, Arlea stood, the bullies standing back as a teacher walked this way.

“Oh, is it? And was it enough when they were beating this kid in front of you? Or are you so piss-poor at your own fucing job you couldn’t be bothered actually interfering?” Arlea shouted at him. She stuttered through the Japanese, not exactly fluent, but good enough that the meaning came across strong. The teacher went red faced, walking this way in angry strides, Arlea looked at him, temper ticking so close to being officially lost.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you off for this one, but you’re going to detention for this-“ The teacher stated. He grabbed Arlea’s wrist.

“For what? doing your job for you?” she asked. The teacher turned to look at her.

“How dare you.” the teacher hissed.

“The fuck is wrong with you, why would you waste all your breath on a quirkless bastard?” it was Bakugo again. Temper officially lost. With a swipe, she took the teacher’s legs out from under him, before turning on Bakugo, he put his arms up in defence, seeing the attack this time but not counting on the amount of force behind it, people never did. But wings were extra body mass, no matter how hollow the bones. The two of them fell.

There was only a short scramble, before Arlea was sitting on his chest, hands wrapped tightly around his throat. His eyes bulged. Gripping her wrists, trying to ease the pressure.

“Unfortunately for you, my mother happened to be quirkless. She’s gone; because of scum like you.” Arlea said, a smile on her face as she strangled the boy. “Call this your official warning, if you ever mention that little quirkless thing again, you or any of your little boys. I’m going to hunt you down, slit your throat from ear to ear, and watch you bleed out with a smile on my face.” Arlea wasn’t joking either. She’d almost killed people for less. Bakugo’s struggled became desperate, tears and spit rolling down his face.

“Stop it,” A hoarse voice croaked. Arlea glanced back. the kid was sitting up, looking this way, barely conscious. Arlea turned back. She let go of Bakugo’s throat, not before giving him two more solid hits to the face, one of them crunching at his nose. She stood up, turning back. The teacher must have hit his head, because he was sitting up with a dazed look in his eyes. Arlea turned to look at the kid who was staring back at her with fear. “Don’t - Kacchan’s going to be a hero, it’s only because I’m-” the boy stuttered.

Arlea turned to look at the people on the floor, the two still standing watched her with fear. She turned back to look at Bakugo, who was coughing and staring up at her.

“Quirkless?” She ground out, teeth audibly grinding against each other in her rage. “It’s ok because you’re weaker than him?” She turned back to Bakugo, snarling. “Newsflash asshole, heroes help people weaker than them. You’re no hero, just a twobit jackass with too many people fawning over your flashy quirk.”  Arlea turned back, grabbing the boy by his good arm and wrenching him up. Taking him towards the infirmary, the kids gathered gave her a wide berth, except for Hanabi, who walked forward, and helped support him on the other side, being careful of his arm.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly. the boy looked at her. but she was looking at Arlea. Who’s jaw was ticked tight, fury in her eyes.

“I’m going to burn down this fucking school.” She replied coldly in English. Hanabi winced,

“I’m sure… that if he knew, he’d not have talked that way.” Hanabi responded softly, Arlea felt her anger cooling. Her cousin trying hard to calm her down and making an effort to speak in English made her feel better.

“If he knew and actually had the audacity to say that, I’d have already killed him.” Alrea pointed out. reverting back to Japanese.

Hanabi gave a shaky sigh, “Mum is going to be furious…”

Well, that she already knew.

-

Surprise, surprise, Arlea was called to the office. She walked there, blood still on her uniform, sitting down politely on the waiting room chairs. The woman there was tense, not looking at her. After a while, the phone rang, and the woman picked it up, putting it back down.

“Please make your way through.” she said, giving Arlea a tense smile.

Arlea stood up, taking a breath. Inside was a furious principal, the concussed teacher, two police officers, and someone who looked like he was a hero. She stopped at the door, looking at the hero and freezing. Well, that didn’t bode well.

“Arlea Hunter, I am appalled by what I’ve heard this afternoon. You were a good student, top of your class, an outstanding reputation. But today you not only attacked 3 of your peers, but a teacher as well. These men are here to escort you off my campus, you’re hereby expelled. I’ve called your aunt to tell her that you’re being escorted to the station. Honours exchange student or not, I will not tolerate that kind of violence on my campus.” The principal, who Arlea was shocked didn’t run out of breath halfway through, was red-faced. Furious, the teacher was watching her with a smile.

Arlea turned to him. “Really? Not only will you let another student burn Deku’s face off, but you’ll stand there and smile when the only person willing to stand up for him is being sent off?” She asked. The teacher paled.

“She’s lying!” he immediately cried. Arlea crossed her arms.

“Bakugo told Deku to kill himself because he was quirkless, then went ahead to hit him again, and everyone stood around and did nothing. This student who had the audacity to think he was going to become a hero.” Arlea was enraged now, walking to the desk and slamming her hands down.

“What the hell is wrong with your teaching staff? A single boy was being beaten to death on your school grounds by four people and your staff did nothing! What kind of sicko school do you run?” She was screaming now. then turned to the police.

“You want to take me to the station? Good! I’ll be a valuable witness, and I’ll proudly stand against Bakugo, what kind of sick psychopath burns the face off one of his peers?” She rounded on the principal again. “I’m also surprised that you called my aunt, you should have kept quiet, because you know she’s just going to come here and take my side. And when there’s an internal investigation? You’ll find me watching you burn to the ground with all the rest of your staff. You run an institute that’s supposed to support your student base, and watch them grow. Their parents are relying on you to keep their children safe, and you’re sending one of them home with injuries nearly every day!” Arlea pulled herself to full height, looking down at the man sitting there, getting paler and paler at her accusations. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.” she hissed out finally.

There was a tense silence, neither the teacher nor principal would break it. Arlae had just gone and blurted out their failures in front of two cops and a hero. If that didn’t scream ‘doomed’ she didn’t know what did. The hero spoke up first.

“Today has been quite the eventful day for everyone involved. What I suggest happens is that Principal Satoru runs an internal investigation into this matter. Bakugo will be flagged to watch for quirk abuse on U.A records. I also suggest you discuss a solution with Arlea Hunter’s aunt when she arrives, so that expulsion can be avoided.” The hero said calmly. Arlea blinked at him.

“How can you speak reasonably in this situation?” She asked, outraged. The hero pinned her with a steady gaze.

“You were also using your quirk maliciously in body slamming a student. If this Bakugo is punished. You will be also, if the student who was injured decides to go ahead and press charges, then we will do something about it and bar him from entering our academy, if what you say about him wanting to become a hero is true. You may find yourself with the brunt of the punishment however, the student you attacked was not Bakugo by the sounds of it, which means you didn’t use your quirk for self defence either.” The hero turned and walked to Arlea, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“In this instance, it would be logical to just let it go. It would be a shame to lose a potential student with such a strong motivation for justice.” The hero nodded his goodbye to the principal and left. giving Arlea an encouraging smile. She didn’t feel it, wanting instead to throw her fists around and continue her angry outburst. Trying to attack a hero would be a tad ambitious. It also made her feel worse that he thought he saw justice. But it was just selfish, bitter anger. Just piss-poor timing for Bakugo to be an asshole. A year ago today her own mother killed herself over the same words. You’d be better off dead than quirkless. Arlea glared at the two people left in the room. before turning and walking out again. she needed a good cry behind the furthest building, at least before her aunty arrived.

[cawolters]

— Strip And Kiss —

Hello from the middle of the night! I’m having a real bitch case of insomnia, and instead of doing edits on my novel, which I’m too scramble-brained to do, I felt like doing something fun!

It’s no secret that I’m a prompt-lover and a trope fan, and so I just remembered I had the beginning of a ‘let’s make out so they don’t suspect us breaking and entering’ prompt lying about.

I finished it up and tadaa.

Warns: none, pg13, lovely, YAish, fluffy, inspired by A Darker Shade Of Magic kinda, there’s a dress, and a hoop skirt and a touch of magic. And Ludec is a bit of a jerk. But. You know how I roll. I like them mean and emotionally cribbed.

.

.

.

The night was a kind of blue that made one think of the astronomers painted ceilings. Deep, navy, bedazzled with nine point stars and crisscrossing lines that chartered their endless travel over the heavens.

But of course neither Ludec or his mandatory apprentice, noticed the spectacular glint of the cosmic forces and their slow blue void above.

They were quite tethered to their own little bubble of world, here, far down on the earthly soil.

Elinora grabbed her skirt and shook the ruffles and ribbons on their stiff dress-hoops.

“Flaying cunts. Whoever forced a woman to wear this should be eaten by rats in the pits of Jouniya!” She hissed and yanked out the strings that fastened the metal skeleton around her waist, through the pockets of the gown.

It clashed to the ground like cutlery in a tin when it fell from within her skirt.

The dress, robbed of its bones, instantly collapsed around her legs.

“Don’t break that. It’ll come out of your pay.” Ludec wasn’t looking at her.

He was watching the balcony of the grand sandstone castle of Hinr. A massive block stuffed full of wealth and grandeur, it could all but have made him scoff, had it not been for Ludec’s burning need to own it.

Guards on either side.

More on the ground level. Ten more pacing the inner wall. Definitely too many to kill and maybe too many to sneak past, even with the help of a well done Kraven spell.

Ludec frowned as he kept counting the obstacles.

“I would have dressed like a man from the start if you had not stopped me, and then we would not be in this hellish situation!!” Elinora said in an angry, fast whisper.

They were both in the deep shadows of the royal gardens, hidden by the castle wall, and though there was music and laughter soaring out from the open veranda doors, Elinora’s cursing was sure to be heard if she didn’t pipe down!

“Your face is too pretty to be a man’s and unfortunately it’s isn’t a masquerade ball tonight.” If it had been anyone but Ludec who’d said something like that, it would have been a complement.

“Be glad that I am not biting the life out of you with my pretty mouth for being so smart, mr Ludec.”

Ludec glanced over his shoulder. Elinora was furiously untying her bodice.

Getting her out of her gown was crucial, she had no chance of climbing vines or squeezing between bares in that thing. The ridiculous dress had been their ticket in through the first set of gates, no spell could make it over the drawbridge, but now a different guise was needed for the second gate, and Luduc could feel the magic biting at his palms. Ready to burst out of his skin at the breathe of a word.

However, the moon bounced off of Elinora’s cleavage and her pressed chest rather charmingly in that moment, and Ludec quickly turned back to observing the guards.

“You’re free to sink your teeth in my face, but don’t touch my breechers. I can’t return them to Sir Orionie full of holes.”

Elinora made an annoyed snort.

“As if you could at all. I will wager a third of my silver that you will ruin them all on your own.”

Ludec heard the silk string slip out of its loops behind him.

She was supposed to be his subordinate, his student, his admirer, and yet Elinora was less an apprentice and more a scratching hissing marten, refusing training.

“I’ll gladly take that gam—“ Ludec started in a sneer, but a set of voices broke his attempts to return fire.

“Sir Barcus!! Over here! Come.” A shill laugh came around the corner of the gardens.

Ludec’s eyes flicked from the metal hoops on the ground around Elinora, to the undone bodice, and then dove towards her. He hardly looked down at her before shoving her up against the wall of Hinr Castle. She made a surprised noise, but luckily no more than that.

No curses, no knife in his gut, no fangs in his cheekbone. Just Elinora’s palms against his chest.

“Milani, my Milani, your face is a hundred roses and you smell like a berry!! Sweeter than a million sugars!” The idiot called Barcurs sounded drunk on love, or fine wine, as he stumbled closer to their hiding spot.

Ludec pressed his lips to Eli.

The magic sparked from his fingertips, blue flashes in a miniature lightning storm, he buried them in her wild hair.

“Barcus, a poet you are. Here, touch me.” Milani sounded breathless. And only a few paces away.

The invisibility spell was ready, alive and snapping, but if he used it now he could not conjure another spell before morning.

After a moment Eli kissed back.

He felt how she leaned against him and slowly moved her mouth with warm velvety lips against his.

… A billion sugars…

Ludec’s stomach did a horrid drop, like the tickle of a fall.

“Ah! Milani! In the gardens?”

“Yes.”

“Under the Gods holy stars?!” He sounded appalled in a most thrilled manner.

“Yes.”

“Ahah, you are a wonderful vicious creature my love, I shan’t deny you—oh.” The scuff of Barcus steps stopped. Milani stifled her giggle.

Ludec pulled back an inch from their kiss and angled his head. Then spoke with the sleek fine uniform of court over his words.

“Forgive us, but it would seem you shall have to seek out another corner under the Gods holy stars. I am afraid this one is occupied.”

Barcus paled and Milani eyes were wide. However the woman quickly regained her mental footing. She tugged at Barcus’ arm and got him heaved away with a coo.

“Do not mind them, sweetheart. Come.”

Ludec’s narrow eyes followed them as they vanished into the lush tall maze. Soon their voices were entirely gone too.

Then he blinked and turned back.

Elinora was in his arms. Her body trapped between the wall and him.

Her beautiful face were somewhere between an angry frown and a question.

Ludec let her go and took three long strides back, almost tripping backwards on the metal hoops on the ground.

“Because of the dress.” He explained.

Elinora flicked her eyes away, the question fading and the frown taking over. Then she started unlacing the rest of her attire.

“I could have killed them instead?” He defended, even though she hadn’t said anything.

“No. You’re right. Rather a kiss than a kill. Cleaner that way.” She slipped out of her embroidered top, leaving her in the corset from the waist up.

“... Exactly.” The magic was hurting now. Like a beast nipping at his fingers.

Icy blue and violent, and not at all like the calm dusty marine of the astronomy tower.

.

.

.

-ciao-

[blueroseblaze]

The Bookkeeper (V + female!reader)

Request: I forgot 😓

Word count: 2006

Warnings: none

Summary: V enters a bookshop owned by a shy and nervous young woman but she is not as she appears

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

The tip of V’s cane ticked against the cobblestone street as he walked underneath the dim street lights. The brisk night air didn’t bother him much. Unlike the reason he was out here so late at night. That part did indeed bother him

“That idiot,” V growled to himself and he scrunched the loose sheet of paper in his fist.

One of V’s more important books had been destroyed when Dante decided to use it as a shield against a demon that found itself inside Devil My Cry. Shredding the book into ribbons of paper and cover. It took a great deal of strength in V’s part not to stab Dante through the chest with his cane.

Finding a replacement for the book, or at least something similar, would be near impossible. However, venturing out to find one have V the opportunity to clear his head and find his composure.

Off in the distance a faint light came through one of the windows that lined the empty streets. V approached it if nothing but out of sheer curiosity. Literally every other store front on the block had been blacked out and locked up tight. The shop keepers most likely trying to protect themselves from any looming creatures of the night looking for foolish prey.

V continued down the street growing closer to the lit window. As he reached it he peered inside. Seeing piles and shelves of books filling the space inside. From his view he could see that many of the books were old. Worn and antiquated. This gave him a glimmer of hope he may come close to what he was searching for. He tested the door handle which he found unlocked and let himself inside. A jingle came from above his head as the top of the door creaked open and knocked into the bell fixed above it. As he opened the door the smell of aged leather and antiquated parchment filled his senses. A warm and welcoming musk overwhelmed him giving a homely feel.

Stepping inside V took note of how the warm colored lights in the ceiling illuminated the stacks and shelves of books, he saw how the dust floated and danced in the air when the light made it visible, how the darkness of the street through the store front window only made the aesthetic of the inside more appealing.

V was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the creaks of the floor boards coming from the back of the shop. He readied himself for a old crotchety and cynical shop keep to yell at him that they were closed and to get lost. However his ears were met with a much more pleasant sound.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute,” a timid yet clear voice rang out from behind the towering shelves. The voice was feminine, sweet and musical yet soft and gentle.

V stood patiently as the presumed shop owner came into view. A young looking woman dressed in a comfortably large sweater and simple pants and boots. Her hair was tied up and away from her face and her eyes were adorned with a thin wiry pair of glasses that clung to the tip of her nose. Which she corrected by pushing them further up her bridge.

“Hello, can I help you find anything this evening?” She asked.

V stood still for a moment while still looking over her form. She grew visibly flustered at his silence and asked him again.

“Sir? Can I help you?”

V was snapped out of his thought and answered her question.

“Oh yes. Though I’m pretty positive you won’t have exactly I’m looking for.”

The woman let out an adorable giggle.

“I can most certainly try. Now what is it you were looking for?” She asked.

“A demonology book. First edition, bound in demon hide and written in demon blood. No particular author, main subject is summoning and vanishing spells,” he explained. V’s voice held an air of humor, fairly confident that she did not have what he needed.

The young woman looked down at the floor boards as her brow knit together and he bend of her index finger found her lips as she slipped into deep though. Her glasses once again fell down to the tip of her nose as she tapped her foot. V smirked at her amusedly as his adjusted his grip on his cane. He tilted his head as he waited for her to continue.

The girl snapped her fingers as her face lit up with remembrance and joy.

“I think I have exactly that,” she declared as she turned away from him to walk back into the maze of shelves.

“You... you do?” V asked in shock. Taken aback by her response and her confidence in it.

“Yup, just give me a minute,” she replied.

V followed her from behind and watched as she pulled out an aged ladder and hooked it to the top of one of the higher shelves. The ladder roles down rail as she pushed off. Reaching the end of the books much faster. She climbed up the ladder, the old rungs bending underneath her feet and the sides darkened and worn from her grip on them. She ascended the ladder her eyes trailed on a particular book on the highest shelf.

“I’ve been waiting for someone to come in looking for this,” she said as she pulled the book from where it was nestled. A cloud of dust rose from the tops as it was disturbed.

She descended the ladder and walked past V to the front desk gesturing for him to follow her. He did and he stopped at the front counter as she moved behind it, placing the heavy text on the glass counter. She brushed away more of the dust and pulled the book open. The satisfying crackling of old dry adhesive as the pages separated after who knows how long of no use. She flipped through the pages, making sure they were all undamaged before regarding V once again.

“Demonology: The Summoning & Banishment of Unholy & Otherworldly Entities. Volume 2 of the set. Is this it?”

V stared at the book before him in utter shock. This was the exact book that was destroyed. As he flipped through the pages reading the text he found it to be exact. Word for word. This was a find he’d never even hoped of obtaining. This book probably cost a fortune.

“I’m sorry it’s not the first edition. Not many copies of these books exists at all, I’m surprised I even have this one,” the girl said.

V was still speechless as he gawked at the book and then at her. Accidentally making her slightly visibly uncomfortable. He saw her visible shrink back timidly.

“This is incredible. You actually have this,” V said, “And it’s in pristine condition for its age. You take great care in preserving your collection.”

The girl behind the counter relaxed slightly and smiled as a pink dust crept its way up her cheeks. She adjusted her glasses before responding.

“Oh, why thank you. Yes, books are a passion of mine. Especially antique occult books.”

“Are you by any chance selling this one. It was on a high shelf after all?” Asked V.

The woman looked down at the book again.

“Yes I can definitely sell you this one. Although it would be a pretty steep price. A book like this is so rare and with its condition. I don’t want to extort you but I-“

Her sentence was cut off by the smashing of glass from behind her. Tiny crystalline shards shit through the air as a winged he’ll heat crashed through the window. Both V and the woman immediately hit the deck as the demon rampaged through the shop. Knocking over stacks and shelves with reckless abandon. An ear bleeding shriek rang out as the creature continued its assault on the place.

Upon locking its eyes on them the demon dove for the woman behind the counter. Latching its talons into her shoulder it lifted her off the ground with ease and made its escape out the shattered window. The woman’s cries of pain met V’s ears as the demons claws dig deeper into her skin which was pulled down by her weight and gravity. V stood at attention and without a second though he leapt out the store front window and followed them into the night.

His eyes didn’t break from the creature as it soared through the streets dragging the screaming shopkeeper along with it. V was about to ready one of his familiars. Perhaps Griffin’s flying ability would even the odds. However, before he was able to summon any of them he watched as the young woman hoisted herself up by grabbing the demons ankles. With a a tug and a swing she was able to concert her foot with the beast’s underside. Stunning the creature as it began to make a fast descend.

The demon had crashed into a pile of garbage that had been sitting on the cobble stone street, but it’s former captive had managed to tuck and role as the thing hit the ground. Breaking her fall and keeping her on her feet and at the ready. As the creature slashed around trying to regain its standing amongst the debris, the woman had grabbed a metal rod that had been lying with the garbage. Grilling the staff with two hands she readied herself for the hell beast to attack again.

The creature lunged for her, it’s massive jaws extended, ready to clamp down on anything within its reach. The claws at the end of its leathery fleshy wings ready to read any fabric and flesh.

The woman waited patiently, her stance not wavering once as she winded her arms back and shot them forward bringing the metal rod with them. With a loud pang and sickening crack the metal connected with the monsters face. It’s head reeled to the side as the force of the swing through its whole flight pattern off course. The demon flew to the side of the street, landing within another pile of garbage. However it’s seemed to only shake off the attack. It made another attempt to lunge at the girl, only for the girl to step aside and out of the way with the most perfect of timing.

With the creature distracted it was her turn to go on the offensive. With her metal rod in hand the woman vaulted herself towards the demon, leaping high into the air with a flare and a spin she impaled her trusty metal rod straight through the beast’s back. The sound of breaking flesh and snapping bone rang out into the dark accompanying the demons last gasp of life and it shrieked its final hellish cry.

The woman grabbed the rod with both hands and pulled it out of the demon’s corpse. Letting a sickening sound of viscera full the space. With panting breath the woman turned her attention towards V who had hobbled over to see what had happened.

With an embarrassed smile on her face the woman said, “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I get targeted by demons quite often.”

V was utterly speechless as he stared at this woman who was now covered in demon blood.

She awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck and adjusted her glasses which somehow didn’t fall off in the chairs that just occurred. She dropped her metal rob and began walking away from the beast’s corpse. She turned to V who had pried his eyes away from the scene and turned to face her. He smirked as she asked, “Now... do you still want the book?”

He began limping towards her, his cane jabbing into the stone street as he caught up with her.

“Oh I never caught your name,” she remarked.

“You can call me V,” he realized.

“Pleasure to meet you, V. I’m (Y/N).”

[wilhelmjfink]

“was” pt. 9

my fucking master list post isn’t working and idk wtf it’s issue is but here’s part 9 of i believe 11 or 12 enjoy~

also remember that i am far too lazy to edit these old stories that i am too lazy to post frequently i am sorry

Both Y/N’s and Negan’s mouths fell open in shock — there was a fraction of a second, she noticed, that Negan let his regular arrogance and confidence waver, just long enough for her to notice before the familiar sneer returned to his face.

Apparently, he was just as shocked to see him as she was.

“Holy shit, everybody! It’s fuckin’ Daryl!” Negan was beaming, though it was obvious through his eyes how furious he was, how stupid he must’ve felt being played a fool throughout Daryl’s absence at the Sanctuary, quickly realizing he was indeed losing control of the little empire he’d built up around him. He strutted toward Daryl who didn’t flinch, even when Negan shifted Lucille exaggeratedly from one shoulder to the other or when he bent down and just hovered inches away from his face. “Look at you,” he leered, eyeing Daryl up and down, unable to prevent his smirk as it quickly melted into a scowl as he did so. She knew he was referring again to Daryl’s fearlessness as it was always something Negan admired in him — it was why he’d taken her away from him in the first place.

And she knew that Daryl was scared… but couldn’t help the way her heart flipped inside her chest with joy and relief at the sight of him standing up for her. All she wanted to do was run to him and have him assure her that everything would be just fine.

Daryl was glaring back up at him pointedly, not blinking his eyes that hid behind his shaggy locks of brown, messy hair. He was dirty, he was exhausted, he was beaten and cut up and bruised; but he was the most beautiful thing that Y/N had ever seen.

“You and I have a lot of catching up to do,” Negan growled just low enough for Daryl to hear. He stood strong, though; even as the sole fact that Y/N was sitting in the corner of the room, alive and bright nonetheless terrified, had his brain screaming at him to go to her. Fuck, she had actually woken up. His fucking girl had come back to him. She had come back to him, and he was supposed to be basking in the relief that had shaken his body to the core. He could’ve wept with joy at the sight of her, living and breathing. But he refused to let Negan sense it.

Negan had a way of punishing people who wronged him by hurting what they loved instead of hurting the one who really deserved it.

“Stay away from 'er,” Daryl snarled, inching forward just closely enough to him to reinforce his words.

Negan’s white-knuckled grip twisted Lucille around irately, his head tilted in interest, features unwavering as he glowered down at Daryl. Footsteps approached behind them and slowed to a halt, Rick, Carol, Jesus and Michonne appearing behind them, with several other Hilltop residents forming an audience in the background being shoved aside by Saviors as they made their way toward the altercation.

Rick, of course, was the first to step forward, hands up in calming surrender, trying to diffuse the situation before it inevitably got out of control. “Hey… alright, let’s talk…”

Negan wasn’t hearing any of it and flung Lucille over from where she rested on his shoulder to pointed forward inches from Rick’s face threateningly without breaking eye contact with Daryl. “Hold it, Prick,” he warned. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, too, but I can’t help but feel like Daryl here is fucking asking for it.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ askin’,” Daryl snarled. At that, Negan’s smile returned as Daryl closed the last of the tension between them threateningly as one final forewarning before he begun to feel himself teetering over the edge of self-control. His voice dropped dangerously low. “I’m telling’ ya. One more time. Leave her alone."

“Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…” Negan taunted him, separating them slightly as he stood taller over top of him in an obvious effort to intimidate him. It almost had Y/N smiling because she knew that it meant Negan was beginning to get apprehensive.  “I don’t think you understand. I care about Y/N. A whole lot, actually."

Stepping back forward to close the space Negan’d just created, Daryl strode forward aggressively, growling before cutting him right off. “Ya better fuckin’ choose your next words real carefully.”

“I want her to work for me.”

Daryl stiffened furiously, the flames in his eyes so harsh Negan could almost feel the heat radiating from them, but Y/N interrupted first, pushing herself upright from her wheelchair that she’d remained in for so long. “I would never work for you!"

“Alright, alright, calm yourself down,” Negan immediately disregarded her, holding his hand behind him to belittle her but calm her down nonetheless. “I’m just a little worried about how she’s healing is all, you know? I mean, can you blame me?” He was being dramatic as usual, not fooling anybody — still, none of the bystanders moved a muscle or made a sound, all too afraid to draw attention to themselves. Negan took notice and looked at all of the wide eyes on the faces that stared at him. “What? Oh — I’m sorry, let me clarify. I don’t mean work work,” he chided, relaxing back on his heels slightly as his sneer returned in full form. “I meant work, like, ya know…” He waggled his eyebrows, gleaming past Daryl as if he was clarifying to the others watching. “Freaky deaky."

And in the blink of an eye, Daryl fucking snapped.

He pounced like a tiger on Negan who, despite having a physique that towered over him, was taken by surprise at the archer’s audacity and was tackled to the ground. But he was just as strong as Daryl, and it wasn’t long before it had turned into a full on brawl between the two men.

Y/N shouted at them, pleaded for them to stop, begged Negan not to hurt Daryl as they fought like cats and dogs, snarls and growls and all, while his friends helplessly watched on.

Rick was fighting some sort of internal conflict on whether or not to interfere: every time he considered stepping in, Daryl seemed to have it under control. And when he didn’t, he wasn’t so sure Negan wouldn’t just kill him for doing so.

When they managed back to their feet, Negan hoisting Daryl up, they spun around once again in a whirlwind of punches and curses, grunting as they threw themselves at each other, Daryl slamming Negan up against the wall forcefully and getting a few solid blows in before Negan gathered his bearings and twisted them back around.

Y/N was horrified, mouth agape, mind reeling for a plan or an answer or anything to help her figure out what the fuck to do at that moment. God, she just wanted Daryl to be okay. That was all she fucking wanted. And she didn’t think it was too much to ask.

Negan charged him into the table, tumbling on top of him and landing several punches before Daryl brought his legs up and, fueled by fury and adrenaline, managed to kick him off though Negan had enough of a hold on him to drag him along as he stumbled backwards and through the bay window.

Daryl heard nothing but rain and shattering glass all around him and underneath it somewhere was Y/N screaming his name, but he could’t dwell on it for long because reality settled back in when Negan rolled over with a pained groan beside him but still managed to push himself up and dove back at Daryl to finish the fight.

It was a blur of colors and pain and Daryl was already weakened from the past week of the emotional torture he endured and lack of sleep and sustenance and normality. Negan was ruthless, his fighting capabilities matching his usual bad-boy demeanor, and Daryl was taking the brunt of his anger and knew that it was long overdue for them both.

But he had crossed the fucking line.

Daryl wasn’t even sure who he was in those moments: he couldn’t remember a time where he’d been so unfathomably angry, so blinded with rage that all he wanted to do was kill the man opposite of him. He wanted to watch Negan’s eyes as the life drained from him, as the realization of it all came crashing down on him and he got to linger in the last moments of his life terrified and bitter and miserable. His girl was in his peripheral, screaming as she was held upright by Michonne. He didn’t need any more fuel for the fire raging inside of him, but the sight of her could have driven him right to the gates of the Sanctuary to kill every single Savior with his bare hands if that was what she wants him to do.

With a newly found rage Daryl rose to the top once again as they rolled around on the damp ground, the collar of Negan’s jacket bunched in his left hand as he clocked him again with his right, the knuckles that collided with bones already scorching even through the knowledge that there was still no end in sight.

At least, not until the familiar chorus of cocking guns rang out, and once again he could hear Y/N call out for him, and it was clear as day.

Distracted by it all for just a split second Negan got one final hit in, knocking Daryl square across the jaw and sending him sprawled onto his back on the ground, laying still to catch his breath and basking in the relief the cool rain brought to the fire that was still surging through every nerve in his body as it poured down on to him.

In a second, Y/N was at his side, hovering over him and shielding him from the rain as she was quickly drenched in her own tears of terror and devastation. He groaned softly as she whispered comfortingly to him, shushing him, telling him to lay still and beg him to just do what Negan said.

God, he had never been so fucking angry in his life.

He reached for her pathetically, slowly losing his grip on reality as the headache throbbed with each beat of his heart and had him swimming around in the dark spots that plagued his vision. Searching for her, listening to her gentle whispers, the feeling of her soft hands caressing the sides of his face, that was all that kept him hanging on by that narrow thread. The fact that this was all he’d fucking wanted anymore, all that he’d asked for the last excruciatingly long week, was enough to keep him going on forever if it meant that she would be there by his side.

“Oh, God, Daryl,” she sniffled, leaning forward and pressing several delicate kisses to his forehead and swollen eyes and bruised jaw. “Why? Why did you do this?"

None of the dozens of Saviors that surrounded the scene fired at Y/N while she’d pathetically hobbled to Daryl, while Negan’s men helped him straighten back up on the other side. But when Rick or Carol or Jesus tried to move over to their injured friend, there was quickly several barrels aiming at them and halting them in their tracks.

And Negan was in pretty bad condition, too — his nose was spouting blood, drenching the front of him down to his white t-shirt that was now stained a deep red. A nasty cut above his eye brow had split open and he held it stiffly, obviously trying to stifle the pain, swearing to himself before he pushed himself completely upright.

“Line ‘em up,” he growled the simple direction to his men who immediately obeyed. One by one they forced the citizens of Hilltop to their knees and Y/N instantly went off, babbling hysterically to Negan as he observed the assembly before him.

“No, please, Negan! Please! I’ll do anything!” The look on Rick’s face as he was pushed down had her spiraling out of control, all too familiar, flashbacks of the last time they’d had to do this debilitating and shaking her to the core.  "Please don’t hurt them! Please don’t hurt him!”

“It’s too late for sorry’s now, doll,” he growled in response, wiping some blood on the leather sleeve of his jacket. He was furious, and Y/N was quickly plunging into a full-blown panic attack, her hands latched on to the lapels of Daryl’s vest as she was yanked away by a burly Savior and forced to her knees.

Her hand clutched her stomach painfully where her wounds were. Daryl noticed and whether her cries were from pain or fear he had to try and help her and had to make it okay — but when he reached out to her he fell forward himself, weak and exhausted and beaten, using one hand braced down in the mud in an attempt to keep himself relatively upright while he tried still to catch his breath. Y/N sobbed helplessly at the sight.

It was pouring. Negan was mad. Y/N trembled in her spot, still quietly begging Negan to stop while he eyed the crew before them as they kneel motionless and silent.

“Wow, deja vu, am I right?”

He scowled every more so when nobody laughed at his poor attempt at his sick, twisted humor.

“I have tried so fucking hard to work with you people. I have given you so many chances, and you have beautifully blown every single fucking one of them like they were gigantic, thick fucking cocksuckers!” He seethed, his voice raising with every word despite being slightly skewed from the swelling in his face. “And now… oh, you fucking mother fuckers, now you are going to fucking pay.”

The smile returned and Y/N doubled over in some mixture of pain and hysteria, gasping as she tried to breathe. Again, Daryl forced himself to reach to her, yearning to feel her in his hands by offering her solace the only way he could think of, only to be torn away the second his bloody fingers brushed against her hair.

She screamed as it happened, instinctively reaching out for him as the Saviors yanked him away and forced him back to his feet, having to drag him like a rag doll since he was still recovering from the fight.

Lucille was shoved harshly into his chest and he grunted. “Congratulations, Daryl. You’re the lucky winner of the night.” There was no longer any hint of humor in Negan’s words as he motioned dramatically to the crew of Daryl’s family before him. "Pick your mother fucking prize.”

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman @mtngirlforever@sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @cococruzzmayanns@qrangr @cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic@crazyaboutnorman @deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93@96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @ima-mther-fckn-starboy@thatsoragan @lonewolf471

[ebelwrites]

Over protective nightmare ( im work I gm on a version of this too)

I’m so sorry for how late this is. I managed to sleep through the entirety of my aeroplane exhaustion just in time to be hit full force with the time zone difference. My sleeping pattern is all screwed up and I’m so exhausted. I finally got some decent sleep last night and got around to editing this one. I’ll try to edit the others when I’m well-rested but it’s very much a roulette wheel these days.

I’m also going to be writing and posting a story soon for Azure-Night-Owl’s birthday. I’m going to force myself to write this one soon because I did not know it was their birthday! Everyone who has already submitted a prompt, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten yours. They will be posted soon, I just need sleep.

Dream sighed as he climbed up the hill at a leisurely pace. The letter had asked him to meet at the top, though he was already planning excuses to cut the meeting short. He was not looking forward to this. It wasn’t the first time he had to turn down an unwanted advance and he doubted it would be the last. It would be flattering, if not for the fact that he knew perfectly well that none of them were actually interested in him, just in what being his datemate would mean for their status. He wondered how many times he’d have to state that he just wasn’t interested in anyone for people to finally understand; Probably far more than he would like to. He reached the top of the hill, spying the writer of the letter.

“Beatrix? I’m sorry, but I have-”

“Too many responsibilities to see anyone right now. I thought so.” She was shaking and fiddling with her hands. She wouldn’t look at him. “I-I gave it some more thought after I sent the letter to you and came to the same conclusion. I-I’m sorry for bothering you.” This was very strange; from what he knew of the girl, she was quite strong-willed. This was not normal behaviour, and she was very pale.

“Are you sick? You don’t seem well.” She almost jumped out of her skin, her eyes wide like a hunted animal.

“I-I- Maybe. I-I should go home. Rest.” There was definitely something up, Dream just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Okay, you take care.” She practically flew down the hill after he spoke. He watched her leave with a suspicious glance, wondering what he was missing. He completely missed the flash of purple that was watching from nearby.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m really not interested, Ink.” Time had passed but some things never changed. Dream still got a number of unwanted advances, even with no tree left. Now it was his aura that attracted people, and it had attracted Ink. Ink was…Interesting as a friend, but Dream was definitely hesitant to take it up a level with him. Besides, he was pretty sure Ink wasn’t actually able to feel love.

“Just one, please. I’ll never ask again.” That got Dream’s attention. Being able to hold Ink to a promise-

“Even if you have to cancel at the last minute? You can never bug me for another one.”

“Even if!” Ink’s eyes brightened and shifted shapes as he spoke. Dream heaved a sigh.

“Fine, just one. But no asking again.”

“Deal! I’ll meet you here tomorrow!” And the AU guardian took off before Dream could get in another word. He heaved another sigh, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

The next day, Dream received a phone call from Ink saying that the soulless guardian had gotten food poisoning the previous night and was too sick to make their date.

“Our agreement still holds, are you sure?” Dream could hear coughing from the other end of the line, but something about it seemed off.

“Y-Yeah, can’t even move. I-I know, no more asking.” Dream narrowed his eyes; what the heck?

“Is it bad? Do you need me to come over?”

“NO!” Dream startled, not expecting Ink to shout. Ink seemed as startled as Dream did when he spoke again. “Uh, it’s better if you don’t. I’ve got black…uh, ink. Yeah, ink all through the house. I caused a bit of a mess. You don’t want to see it.”

“Okay, then. Get better soon.” Ink abruptly hung up on him the second he finished speaking. Dream sighed. Well, at least Ink wouldn’t bother him for a date anymore.

“Hey, sweetheart. Give us a smile.”

Dream grit his teeth and held up the pamphlet he was reading to block line of sight between him and the catcaller. ‘Just ignore him and he’ll lose interest.’

CRASH

The loud sound of glass shattering and metal crunching made Dream whip his head around on instinct. A large truck appeared to have careened off the road and into a shop of the sidewalk, just barely missing the catcaller from earlier. The man was on the ground, alive and apparently not badly hurt, but definitely scared out of his wits. His friends tended to him. Dream, however, was more interested in the rather familiar-looking black shadow that fled the vehicle and dove into a back alley, dripping cyan blue blood. Dream chased it.

The sound of aggressive hissing paused his pursuit; it appeared that the back alley led to a dead end. A small pool of the brightly coloured blood was starting to accumulate behind a stack of abandoned boxes. Dream sighed heavily and knelt to the ground.

“Come on out. I know you’re there and I know you’re hurt. May as well let me help.” Nightmare poked his head out just long enough to stick his tongue out at Dream before disappearing again. Alright; if that’s how Nightmare was going to be then Dream had no choice. He forced his way behind the boxes, ignoring the screeching and flailing of his stupid brother.

“No! Go away! Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Just let me fix it, you big baby!” He dodged the attacks of three sharpened tentacles and grabbed the fourth that Nightmare was quite clearly trying to hide behind him. There was a deep cut along the tip that caused Nightmare to screech when he grabbed it; or maybe Nightmare screeched because he had nothing better to do than to try and blow out Dream’s eardrums. Dream managed to corral the other three tentacles underneath him and sat on them, pinning them to the floor and leaving the tips flailing wildly but unable to harm him. Nightmare shot him a nasty look that seemed more like a pout as Dream finally began to heal the cut.

“Why do you keep chasing away everyone who hits on me?” Nightmare’s glare turned into a look of surprise and Dream couldn’t restrain from rolling his eyes. “I’m occasionally oblivious, not stupid. Once is an occurrence, twice is a coincidence, every single time for the entire five hundred and two years we’ve been alive is a pattern I’d almost call ‘yandere’. And it’s not like you were subtle about your involvement, either.”

“They’re not allowed to.” Nightmare wouldn’t look at him; the pout was back. “I should be your focus; not some insignificant worm who would only use you.” Dream paused, hands halfway through wrapping a bandage around the wound; the white fabric was already starting to be dyed black. Then he grinned.

“Aw. Is big bwother Nighty trying to protect his pwecious baby bro?” Nightmare’s horrified croak would fuel his happy dreams for years to come. He barely managed to tie off the bandage before Nightmare finally tipped him onto the ground. He landed hard on his back, wheezing with laughter.

“I do not! Just, I am the only one allowed to harm you! No one else!”

“Sure, sure,” Dream managed to squeak out amidst his laughter. “Whatever you say, brother.”

“I’m leaving!” Nightmare shoved past him, pushing him down again just as he’d managed to sit up. “I’m also disowning you!”

“No, you won’t. You love me!” The look on Nightmare’s face told him that maybe he’d pushed it a little too far. A quick portal let him escape the attacking tentacles, his laughter joined in chorus by Nightmare’s furious screeching. What a silly, overprotective big brother.

[hylla-yea]

It's literary 12am on a Sunday morning and I spent all fucking week writing this, this better go viral. Anyway have some shit writing, I didn't edit this either, so sorry for any errors

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

Hazel was tired. More than usual to be honest. She looked awful, she felt awful. Hazel hated it, but she needed to finish all of her makeup work. Then there was all her preator work. Hazel was busy, she didn't have the time to sleep. There was work that needed to be done, she could sleep later. That idea would've been fine, if it weren't for the fact Hazel hadn't been actually been sleeping. Not even taking naps.

The longer it went on, the more obvious it has gotten. None of the older demigods had realised it until it had really gotten out of hand. First there was Leo.

“Hey!” The young Latino boy say causing Hazel to jump a bit. “Oh, hi Leo!” Hazel smiled sheepishly rubbing her eyes. “Is everything ok? You look..tired.”Leo said a little concerned. “Oh no, I'm fine. I've been sitting down working for too long” Leo frowned looking at all the work Hazel had around her on the counter top. “Well, don't forget to take a break and a nap.” Leo said before running of to do gods know what.

A few days later, on Wednesday, Percy had woken Hazel up in the same spot Leo had found her. This time Hazel seemed to be a lot more tired. Hazel was hardly awake when Percy had found her. Percy gently tapped the dark skinned girls shoulder. Hazel jolted up from her sleep. She had been asleep. Hazel looked around dazed hitting Percy in the face with her hair.

“Ahh!” Percy spat. “On your left Hazel!”

“Huh!? Oh sorry Percy!” Hazel blinked a few times. “Hazel, you're way too tired you need to go to bed. Plus, you have a test tomorrow, you can hold on the preator stuff for a bit. Take a nap.” Percy said as he started sorting some of Hazel's work. “Hey, wait what are you doing!?” Hazel said covering her papers with her arms.

“Cleaning up your stuff so you can rest.” Percy said. “I'll sleep in a bit, I promise, just a few more minutes!” Hazel pleaded looking Percy in the eye. Percy looked Hazel back in her eyes. He regretted it instantly. After only a few seconds he caved. “Alright fine! But only a few minutes.” Percy sighed and put Hazel's papers down walking away.

--------

Friday morning, a day were most would be happy and on their toes. Hazel wasn't. Far from it. She'd been stumbling across the halls of BAG hopelessly. She had artist statements and essays in her arms rushing go get them to their respective teachers.

It wasn't until Lacy had finally got Hazel's attention did she stop running. “Hazel is everything alright?” Lacy asked before she could look at Hazel.

“Gods, Hazel you look awful! Have you slept at all this week?”

Lacy asked clearly worried about her girlfriend. “Oh, yea..a few hours or so…” Hazel said as she made her way to the first class to drop off the work. “How long is a few hours?” Lacy asked following Hazel around the school. “Enough to get my work done.”

“Hazel, please, tell me.” Lacy pouted. It wasn't often that Hazel acted so cold towards Lacy, unless Lacy really ticked her off. Lacy quieted herself and continued to follow Hazel around school. Luckily they had the same classes so Lacy wouldn't be too far away from Hazel.

As the school day continued Lacy noticed how sleepy Hazel had been acting. She'd been doing off during classes. She some managed to fall asleep standing up. Lacy wanted to say something, but Hazel insisted she was fine.

Lacy bit her lip nervously. The school day was almost over, maybe she could convince Hazel to sleep in. Lacy cleared her throat catching Hazel's attention. “Um Hazel, did you- I mean could stay with you this weekend?” Lacy was clearly nervous. “Um, sure. Want to walk home with me?” Lacy nodded happily.

Lacy felt nervous, it wasn't that she had any bad intentions, she'd never been in Hazel's room. The thought of being alone in Hazel's room made Lacy feel weird inside. Like a happy weird.

“Lacy, are you ok? You look spaced out.”

Lacy shook her head focusing on the real world again. “Oh, yeah, I'm fine!” Lacy could tell she was blushing. She ate her food quietly not wanting to say anything stupid.

The rest of the school day went on fine.

The rest of the classes went by smoothly for both Hazel and Lacy. Nothing happened, no threat of having to rush back to either of camps or some monster attacking them. It was peaceful. Well as peaceful as a Friday even in school could get.

Walking home was sweet too.

“Hey, can I show you a new song?” Hazel asked suddenly. Despite how sleepy she was, Hazel was more than happy to be around Lacy. “Of course!” Hazel pulled out her phone and scrolled through her Spotify playlist. “There it is!” Hazel said as she pressed her thumb against her phone screen.

“I'm forming my own cloud here.”

Hazel sang along with the song. Lacy could only smile. Hazel's voice was sweet. Hazel kept singing until the song finished. Lacy was grinning from ear to ear. Lacy had it bad.

Lacy didn't realize that they finally reached Hazel's house. Despite how many people lived in the house, it was fairly clean. A few books there, a couple of blueprints rolled up in a pile. A couple of tools on the couch, but still clean.

“Come on, my room is this way!” Hazel grabbed Lacy's hand pulling her down the hallway and quickly entering a room.

If Lacy was going to be honest, she wasn't sure what she accepted Hazel's room to look like. When she did wonder she assumed it'd look like what she thought Nico's would. Dark, all the colors would've dark if they weren't black. Maybe a few records laid around.

It was far from it.

Hazel's room walls were painted white, it would've been boring if it weren't for the things that covered the walls. For starters, there were lyric notes painted across one wall while the one across from it was lined with pictures of all her art. Her bed was placed in the corner and had yet to be cleaned and had stuffed animals laid on the pillows. Next to it was a set of cubes that seemed to be connected. The roof had a few large lights on top, they seemed normal. The floor was clean minus the small pile of music and books in the corner near the window.

“Do you like it?” Hazel excitedly. Lacy nodded happily. “I love it! It's really pretty!” Lacy smiled as she walked over to the wall with all of Hazel's art work on it. “You made all of these?” Lacy was examined the wall in awe. The art was realistic and seemed to pop off the page. “Yea, Annabeth gave me the idea. She said I could see my improvement.”

Hazel blushed, she always got compliments for her art, but Lacy's made her feel..happier. Hazel feel soft inside. “Is this one me?” Lacy asked pointing at one turning to face Hazel. “U-um…yea, I painted when we first started dating..” Hazel blushed rubbing the back of her neck. “If you don't like it-”

“Hazel, I love it!”

“Really?” Hazel thought it would've been weird to draw Lacy, mostly cause she drew it from memory. “Of course, I wish I could paint like this.” Lacy pouted a little. “Hey you can dance!” Hazel said. “You're great at doing things, I wish I could do!”

Lacy blushed a bit. She was never good at taking complaints. “Uh..thank you..” Lacy quickly changed the subject.

“Can..can I stay for the night? I already have extra clothes.”

Hazel paused for a bit. “I'll go ask Percy!” Hazel ran out the room. Lacy looked around Hazel's room silently. She looked in the cubes Hazel had near her bed. She wasn't expecting to find much. She found a few art ideas and supplies. She found a few CDs with weird names for each one.

After looking for a bit more shed found a diary. She bit her lip. She shouldn't read it. It wouldn't hurt to just look at it. Lacy looked at the cover. It was painted. It had Hazel's name written in Latin she assumed.It was nice. She flipped over and looked at the back. It was just as pretty. It was covered in stickers on it

Lacy put the book down only to find a little remote. She clicked a button and suddenly the colors of the lights changed. Lacy giggled and kept changing the colors. Hazel came back into the room smiling happily.

“You can stay!”

“Good, now I can trick you into taking a nap!” Lacy said. Lacy stood up and pushed Hazel into the bathroom. “Now take a shower! You need to relax!” Lacy threw in some random clothes and waited patiently for Hazel to shower. Once Hazel finished Lacy wasted no time taking her shower not wanting to waste anytime.

Lacy came out the bathroom smiling. “Great, that's out the way.” Hazel looked up from her phone grinning. “Good, I wanted you to teach you how to paint.” Lacy smiled, she wonder how long Hazel had been practicing that. “I'd love to learn!”

Hazel rushed over to her closet. She pulled out a canvas, a few paint brushes, and a lot of paint. Lacy moved out the way to allow Hazel to place everything out. “Don't we need something to cover the floor?” Lacy asked sitting down next to Hazel. “We should be fine, this paint doesn't dry quickly.”

“How about we try painting a dove? So you can hang it up in your room!” Hazel said as she began to sketch the bird out on the canvas. Lacy was expecting it to take at least an hour. It only took Hazel around thirty minutes to finish sketching. “You draw fast..” Lacy looked at the bird. It looked very pretty and Lacy didn’t want to ruin it. “You sure it's ok for me to paint this, I don't wanna mess it up.”

Hazel nodded excitedly. “Yea, I want you to learn.” Hazel looked around. “I'll be back we need water!” Lacy nodded as Hazel quickly ran off. Lacy picked up one of the paint palettes. She opened it. The colors were mostly used and white plastic that held the paint was covered in light streaks of each color. She closed it and opened another one.

This one seemed new and didn't seem to be used, looked brand new even. Hazel came back with a cup of water. “We'll use this to clean the brushes!” Hazel said placing the cup on the floor before sitting down. “Ok, so, pick one of the palettes!”

Lacy looked at the one in her hand. The colors were dark. More earthy. “I wanna use this one…” Lacy trailed off looking at another pallette. The colors were mostly pink or some version of it. “...and this one!”

Hazel grinned. “OK,what if we paint the dove pink and make it look like it's flying over a forest?” Lacy nodded. “Yea, let's do that!” Hazel picked up a pencil and added to outline for the background. Once she finished going over the pencil in sharpie Hazel dipped the paintbrush in water. “What do you wanna paint first?”

Lacy took the brush from Hazel. “The dove, I can't possibly mess that up!” Lacy said as she ran the brush across the pink pigment in the pallette and began to paint.

Lacy had never painted a day in her life and had no idea what to do.

[alwaysananxiousmess]

Oh hey I wrote a thing

From this post: https://doesjohnnyghostisgay.tumblr.com/post/173532622839/okay-so-i-remember-talking-about-this-to-dearchibr

@medicalmysteries @doesjohnnyghostisgay

Words: 1608 ((I edited it a bit))

He was just lounging around the lake. What else was he supposed to do exactly? The farthest he could go away from it was maybe to the tree line on the side closest to his body and a few feet from shore on the other side. How did he know this exactly? You don't really want to know. It was evening, and the amount of swimmers was dwindling. While when he died this place was fairly abandoned, as the years went by it became a good place for the locals to cool off during the summer. So instead of going crazy, like what most spirits would do after death, he saved people. Whether from randos getting a little too friendly with kids or the people who were drowning. He did the best he could. It was another day ending, and people were leaving. Except for a couple of people of course. Some liked swimming at night, not many though, so he kept an eye out for any sign of struggle. Movement on the treeline at the opposite end of the lake caught his eye, and he towards it. A figure broke the trees, and a familiar sense of burning ran through his chest. He was frozen, and felt liquid run down his chin, not only from his mouth but from his nose as well, flecks of blood running down it. His breathing was hard, and labored, not that he needed to breathe anyway. He felt it, being stuck there, pinned there, by not something, but someone. And he was whirled into the past. - - - He wandered the shore, kicking at pebbles. The night sky reflected off the surface of the dark water, and he blinked at it. Looking down at his clothing, he rolled up his pant legs, took off his shoes and socks, and waded into the water. He went to knee deep in the water before stopping, letting his toes sink into the ground beneath the surface. A smile cracked his face, and he bent slightly to run his fingers over the surface. After about a minute of this, he sighed and turned around to get out of the lake and dry off. Only to be met with a feminine figure right behind him. He opened his mouth to say something, only for the woman to push him over. Submerging his head beneath the water and keeping it there. He fought, but it did no use. Water filled his mouth as he tried to scream, his limbs thrashing in the water. She was sitting on him, he was sure of it, but was keeping her head above the water. Her hand pressed his throat against the sand. He couldn't move his legs easily, and he could tell his attacker was trying to keep his arms from moving too much. Why? Why was she doing this? His lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen, and he struggled harder, moving his legs the small amount that he could and trying to use his arms to push back up to the surface. His attacker shifted her position, letting go of his neck for a second to grab his arms and push them against his sides before plopping back on top of him and grabbing his neck once more, still pinning him to the ground below the surface of the water. This is it, he thought helplessly, unable to move anymore. She's going to kill me, whoever she is. And for what? He was running out of air now, and out of a reflex, his brain made him inhale. Water rushed through his nose and mouth and into his lungs. He coughed, only to be met by more of it. His vision was fading, his limbs going numb. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he fell unconscious. In less then a minute of being unconscious, he was dead. - - - He awoke in the water. But the lady wasn't on top of him anymore, and his lungs weren't burning. Did she let him go? The surface was a lot farther over his head. And it was dark beneath him. He could make out a shape below him, but he swam up towards the surface instead, breaking it and inhaling gratefully. But he hadn't felt the need to when he was under. He looked around quizzically, and the sun was starting to rise. He could see it. "Crap! Mom's going to freak!" He started to swim towards shore and climbed out, only to realize his shoes and socks weren't where he left them. Whatever. He bolted for the tree line, and he was a few feet inside when.. He found himself underwater again, as if he had teleported there. Confused, he drifted around in the water, before swimming up and breaking the surface again. He tread water for a bit, seeing that the sun was still rising. His boots were still gone. And that's when he realized, he wasn't breathing. He felt his ribcage. His chest wasn't rising and falling, and he felt no heartbeat. He reached up and put two fingers against his neck, just under his ear, where you would normally feel a pulse. But there was nothing there. Freaking out didn't seem to cover how he was feeling at the moment. He started hyperventilating, but did he even need to breathe? Was he dead? Don't be ridiculous, he sighed, calming down after a few minutes. Just go home. Mom must be worried. He swam towards shore and started towards the tree line, water dripping from his soaked body. He slowed as he reached the tree line again, and apprehensively went past it. A few steps later, and he was back underwater. Frustrated and confused, he let himself sit there for a while. Before noticing the thing beneath him. It was sort of a human shape, and curiosity overtook him, and he swam downwards towards it. And shrieked with fear as he was confronted with a face that looked a lot like his own. The other him was pale, and still. Blood leaking out of his nose and mouth. His eyes were half closed, and dull, his pupils dilated severely. "Oh- oh my god," he muttered, and surprisingly was able to hear his voice clearly underwater. This other him was dressed just like him, looked just like him. The only difference was that this one, this one was dead. He touched it's face, and wasn't surprised when he found that it was ice cold. "I-" he swallowed thickly. "I am dead. That's why I can't leave. I'm stuck with my body." - - - He snapped back to the present, gasping for oxygen he didn't need. The water continued running down his chin, dripping onto his already wet clothes. The woman who had murdered him moved slowly and quietly to the last person in the lake other then himself. A tall man who was swimming laps, the best he could in a lake anyway. The man started to climb out, shaking the water from his eyes, and the woman tackled him into the water. Just the way he had killed him. Filled with rage, he dove underwater and swam as fast as he could towards the two. Even from a distance he could see the other man struggling. He burst out of the water and slammed into the woman, pushing her off of her victim. A small part of him wished that someone could have been there to save him as he was saving this other person. But he dismissed the thought. He grabbed the woman and hauled her up, growling, though it was muffled by the water gurgling from his throat. "Remember me?" He choked out, somehow managing to be heard. She looked up at him, terrified. He could here the victim climbing out of the water, gasping for air. But he didn't pay him any mind, instead holding his killer in place, digging his nails sharply into her skin. "Get out," his speech was garbled by the liquids coming from his mouth, nose, and throat, but he knew she would understand him anyway. "Get out of here, you stupid bitch." He let her go, and she bolted. His gaze followed her until she had disappeared into the forest. He felt the water in his throat trickle out at last, and he wiped his mouth with his wrist, glaring at the space she had been. "You saved me," the man he had rescued said from behind him, causing him to turn and meet his gaze.  His voice was laced with a British accent, uncommon for here in America. "Why?" "Who wouldn't have?" He responded dryly. "I'm Johnny, Johnny Toast," he looked slightly unnerved by his severely dilated eyes. Yeah, he knew about that. Some lady let him use her mirror so he could see how crappy he looked as a ghost. "And if I'm right, you're a ghost," He froze, but kept his stern glare on the British man in front of him. "What the hell do you mean?" Playing dumb should be easy. "You must be the guy who went missing back in 2008, Johnny Ghost, right?" Johnny said. "The one who they say is dead. That lady back there, she killed you didn't she? And you're tied to your body, which must be around here somewhere. I'm guessing decomposing at the bottom of the lake," "How do you know all this?" He crossed his arms. "I'm a ghost hunter," the British man explained, causing him to take a step back. "But don't worry, I don't want to hurt you. In fact, I'd like to help you get away from this stupid place."