#i haven’t abandoned yall i promise

[darlinqserenity]

i keep saying imma write and go back to my writing blog but like i never do lmao.

i promise its not on purpose i forget it exists sometimes tbh.

and also im graduating highschool this year and everything has been super hectic and soon ill be officially adulting.

ill go back to the writing blog eventually i just need time to sit down and actually write.

[monipandas]

Question about the Red Plague au: Is the Dark Cacao Kingdom affected by the plague or not because the red plague consists of pomegranate plants and the Dark Cacao Kingdom is located on the coldest parts of earthbread and most plants usually don't last long on cold climates and the same goes for the Golden Cheese Kingdom, are they also affected by the plague or not because the kingdom is located on the hottest parts of earthbread and most plants don't last long on very hot places

the flowers that grow out of infected cookies will survive for as long as the cookie itself does

they’re not like any normal plant, considering they came from pomegranate cookie essentially getting mutated by a dough monster that absorbed pomegranate extract cough the same kind used to make dark enchantress cookie

i’ve mentioned before that, while the vines and flowers overtake the entire body of the cookie they still keep them “healthy” and leave any vital organs untouched (assuming cookies have those but play along w me here lmfao)

so the scarlet plague will actually work to keep the cookie alive for as long as possible so it can spread to other cookies, the flowers survive off of the cookie’s body, so they won’t wither under harsh weather conditions on their own

if the cookie itself were to get buried under a blizzard and freeze to death then yes, that would technically kill off the flowers but that’s only because their cookie host perished, if the cookie can make it through the snowy weather and get into the cacao kingdom then the flowers will still be very much alive and thriving to spew spores and infect as many as they can, the same goes for hotter climates like the golden cheese kingdom

from a storytelling point i haven’t planned much of anything for the dark cacao or golden cheese kingdoms yet, but everything ive said should at least explain that they very much are at risk like everyone else lol

[heartpascal]

is it freedom?

▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Halloween/Autumn Prompt List

Hi!!! Welcome to my mish mash of a writing prompt list!! 

NONE OF THESE PROMPTS ARE MINE!!! I took my favorites from other lists and compiled them all together. 

Feel free to request for whoever and feel free to add a plot or just send a name and a prompt!! Happy fall yall!! 

dialogue!! 

“You have a leaf in your hair.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Why don’t you take off that mask? I’d like to see your face.”

“You’re scared of that, really?”

“That’s your favorite candy? You have shit taste.”

“Promise not to laugh at me if I scream.”

“My friend abandoned me at this Halloween party and I don’t know anyone. But you look as miserable as I feel.”

“It says take one, love.”

“Well…you grabbed my hand first.”

“Oh, I see. Is someone a little scared?”

“I spent so long in the darkness I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

“Nice try. You’ll have to work harder to scare me.”

“I know you’re trying to be scary, but you’re just way too cute.”

“I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as your [partner/bf/gf].”

“You’re a scaredy cat.” / “I am not!”

“Boo!” / “You were scarier with the mask off.”

“What are you supposed to be?” / “It isn’t obvious?”

“Ew candy corn?” / “What? This candy is hated for no reason. It’s good!”

“That kind of scared me.” / “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“Kill me now and put me out of my sugar-fueled misery.” / “I told you to slow down.”

“Come on, it’s just a haunted house! It’ll be like a walk in the park.” / “More like a walk through hell.”

“There’s literally one candle flickering mysteriously. In what universe would I go over there?” / “Is that…a no, then?”

“Oh no. You are not wearing the same costume as me! You can’t!” / “Well I did.”

“Ooh very scary!” / “That’s not part of the costume, dumbass.”

“You could have been a prince(ss).” / “Well, I wanted to be a(n) [insert costume] instead.”

“Who you gonna call?” / “Ghostbusters?”

“You look so stupid.” / “Well, that was the idea since I dressed as you.”

“What happened? Let me help you!” / “Relax, the blood is fake.”

“Carving pumpkins is a lot harder than it looks.” 

“The Frankenstein movie is an absolute insult to Mary Shelley’s novel! I can’t believe you would suggest we watch it!”

“I spent over an hour raking up all those leaves. If you jump in that pile, you’re dead to me.”

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder if you want to come up with a Halloween prank that will actually scare me.”

“You haven’t really lived if you’ve never camped out in a graveyard on Halloween night.”

“It’s alright. It’s just another power outage.”

“Wait, you seriously don’t like pumpkin pie?”

“I love moments like this. Just curled up by the fire, listening to the rain.”

“The only thing I plan on doing this season is reading through the complete collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s works.”

"what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!"

"i really appreciate that you're getting into the halloween spirit, but it's ten in the morning. please turn off the slasher films so i can eat my breakfast in peace."

"ah, you've made the mistake in thinking that just because this is a couples/family costume that you get any kind of say in it. you don't, actually.”

"i love you, i swear i do, but we're not wearing matching costumes."

"you're like the toughest person i know! am i really supposed to believe that a horror film is enough to have you cowering into my lap?"

"come on, if there was ever a time for me to be superstitious it's definitely now."

Scenarios 

Tailgating at football game

Baking a pumpkin pie

Visiting an apple orchard

Visiting a pumpkin patch

Carving a pumpkin

Making caramel apples

Bonfire

Corn Maze

Decorating for Halloween

Costume shopping

Buying couple costumes

Baking Halloween cookies

Haunted house

Watching a scary movie

Halloween photoshoot

Setting up a haunted house

Masquerade ball

Going trick-or-treating

Handing out candy

Telling scary stories

Halloween/Murder Mystery Party

comforting the scaredy cat amongst them

laying wide awake at night after watching a horror movie that left them unnerved

Cuddling under a blanket 

Lazy days in 

Flannel shirts 

Cold hands 

Steaming mugs 

Bear hugs 

Pillow forts 

Thunderstorms 

Sharing blankets 

Log cabin 

Mischief Night 

[hkkingofshades]

King of Shades - 51

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I'M SO GODDAMN SORRY YALL. Life Happened and i just was not able to get any pages in 😭 my ability to stick to a schedule is notoriously terrible but I promise that I am still working on the comic and haven't abandoned it!

[host-club-hq]

hi again. i know it’s been a while, and ill continue to post things like this so yall know i haven’t liked abandoned this account because i know how it feels to not hear from a creator you enjoy.

the writing block has been insane to deal with i haven’t actually written anything since indeed’s most recent chapter which is like six months now? i promise when i get back into the groove yall will be the first to know <3 still love u all

[1whore1gang]

Hey yall here’s an update.

Life has chewed me out and shit me out about 12 times recently. I am so sorry for the delay in part 10. It’s almost halfway done, but i’ve had SERIOUS writers block with everything going on.

I promise I’m not trying to make excuses!! Part 10 will come! I promise I haven’t abandoned you all! You will get a continuation.

I appreciate your patience! Love you all dearly. 🫶🏻🤍

[olympiansally]

EXCUSE ME??? YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THAT IN THE TAGS??? Im gonna need some Mikami/Beyond food-for-thought ramblings ASAP. Indoctrinate me into this cult, please and thank you <3

I laughed so much when I saw these, I show one inch of unraveling and yall pounce lmao You guys really want me to be the messiah huh? Just want me to let out the crazy! I guess everyone can blame you two for what is about to be unleashed then!! LMAO

Also, @seventhfracture my beloved it is hilarious that you chose to word this like that because one of the main things that plague my brain for Beyond and Mikami is an actual Cult leaders AU so like yes lets start the indoctrination, sure :’)

But alright alright here goes the rambling, because I make no promises of this being super coherent, but!

Beyond and Mikami have the most unhinged ship potential because they are exactly what the other wants, but in the worst way possible. I’m talking toxic levels of encouraging each other’s worst impulses, I’m talking “whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”, but the thing the souls are made of is arsenic.

To me they are a twisted funhouse lawlight, but worse. Except, being worse is what lets them actually make it work because their thing isn’t competing, it’s encouraging.

Lawlight is all about I’m the only one who can stop them, I’m the only one who can keep up while Beyond and Mikami would be something more yes, yes kill them all, burn everything to the ground baby.

I will admit that I first started thinking about them in the silliest way. My brain just connected the dots between Beyond Birthday “I have never even been submissive to a traffic signal” and Teru Mikami “Kira’s most obediently submissive little worshiper” Mikami and I was was like oh, oh they would fuck so nasty!

And tbh I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them ever since lmao

And then, the more I though about it, the more I realized the dynamic between them would also be all kinds of interesting in ways other than just the kinky sex - which tbh, already makes the ship quite compelling in my book lmao. But the contrast in their personalities! The way they can give each other exactly what they want, but fully ruin one another in the process!!

To put it simply, Beyond has always wanted to be special and Mikami wants someone to worship. Now put them together? Nasty horrible codependence :’)

Growing up the way he did - Wammy’s, L, being the backup - Beyond has always been second best, has always craved being seen and valued. He has an arrogant sort of confidence that is a clear front for his feelings of not being good enough, not being worthy. And yet, he is the most unhinged, the most fearless, the most willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants - even in the midst of so many ruthless death note characters.

Similarly, Mikami doesn’t fear societal judgement. He thinks everyone else is wrong and he is the only wholesome righteous person alive, he thrives in not quite belonging because it allows him to twist himself into a “good man” martyr in his own mind - so much so that seeing someone acting in accordance to his own beliefs made him immediately assume that must be a God, because if he is heaven’s most perfect little angel, then whoever agrees with him while having more power to act on it must be a God. And yet! Mikami is just desperate to belong to someone, to make someone happy and in doing so, become someone valuable.

In a way, it’s all about their individual abandonment issues and lack of belonging and the way those experiences shaped them into people who find a wicked sort of comfort in their otherness.

In a way, that’s just like lawlight - except L and Light try to be justice, they try to do some good. But Beyond and Mikami don’t really care about what anyone’s perception of “good” is. Beyond doesn’t much care for good, unless it’s defined by someone he’s trying to impress and Mikami doesn’t think anyone but him truly understands what’s good (until of course he meets Light, but that’s not where we’re going with this). And that? The matching disregard for societal morality combined with the potential for codependency? It makes them a perfect template for absolutely deranged villains if ever put together!

And yes, Mikami’s whole strict orderly and organized way to go about things would probably clash with Beyond’s messier impulses at first. But that’s where their contrast becomes most interesting, because who better than crazy crazy Beyond Birthday to unravel Mikami’s uptightness? Who better to guide him into letting go? And Beyond’s single minded type of fearless focus given direction? Put under the guidance of Mikami’s certainty of a higher purpose? Beyond could take the shape of a chaotic vengeful God in Mikami’s eyes - as cruel and punishing as Mikami always dreamed consequences should be.

Meanwhile, Beyond - always second best to L, never good enough growing up, Backup - would revel in the worship, in being valued and it would likely push him to lean further into the whole thing - kill more, punish more, make it crueler. Not because that was his initial intention, but because he was raised to follow the instructions of someone he was meant to please and well, if falling in love means that person becomes Mikami rather than Watari, then too bad for the “criminals” of the world.

I think the fact that they feed each other’s desperation could be so… feral? I mean, Mikami is shown to thrive on scraps of affection - again, see Light - and Beyond has the potential for the type of cruelty - a byproduct of growing up at Wammy’s that L also displays, see Misa being tortured for example - that would make Mikami elevate him into the highest of pedestals, make him into that fearless God delivering divine punishment. He doesn’t share any of Light’s restraints due to trying to follow his dad’s moral code. Mikami is shown in canon to be even less forgiven than Light towards criminals, Beyond is supposed to be even less concerned about the greater good than L. Together? An absolute reign of terror! And the worship? The devotion?? That would probably be addictive to Beyond’s attention starved crazy, which means he’d lean into it and probably start performing right into Mikami’s belief system in order to reaffirm his godhood.

In a way, it’d be a vicious cycle of starved for affection, their very own lovesick ouroboros: Beyond delivers the punishing wrath Mikami has always hoped for and the fact that it’s being delivered by his own personal God reaffirms to Mikami that he is righteous, that he is special. The more Beyond confirms Mikami’s beliefs, the more Mikami is willing to worship, which in turn confirms to Beyond that he is doing the right thing and therefore should keep doing it, which makes Mikami love him more and so on and so forth.

If Mikami wants him to kill then it’s the right thing to do, if Beyond kills then it’s the right thing for Mikami to want - a never ending cycle. It’s the opposing force to lawlight’s combative friction, a downwards spiral in which the more they do, the more they are encouraged to do.

Anyway! I’m gonna cut myself off here before I get too carried away because once I get really started about them there’s so much lmao

But I will say that my favorite way to ponder their dynamic is as a twisted reflection of lawlight. I fully believe Beyond-wannabe-L-Birthday and Teru-wannabe-Light-Mikami would have thrown out the yearning immediately upon meeting and jumped straight into horribly entertaining codependency. My absolute favorite though? Lawlight investigating the shinigami eyed boyfriends. I mean the fun mirror versions interacting with each other while the twisted relationships unfold? Idk man drives me insane tbh

So yeah! This feels like more than enough for now, even though yes I could probably talk about them forever lmao

Thank you for indulging me my beloveds, it was fun :)

[nightcrawlerzincorporated]

Hey gang! I know I promised I would post the results of my DTAMHD survey soon and then never delivered, but it’s not abandoned! I made the survey when things were going well for me and then things went downhill and stayed there, so I haven’t really had the time/energy to finish calculating everything and making the necessary charts and graphs, but I do still think about it!

[death-in-a-handbasket]

i don't mean to rush you, but do you think you'll finish 'call me back when you get this'

I usually answer my asks in chronological order, so sorry to the other people rotting in my inbox, I promise I know y’all are there and I will get to you

The fic is not abandoned and I will certainly finish it, however I’m a bit behind.

I’ve been in the center of some complicated relationship stuff and I am a student still, college has been so up my ass with bullshit work that I haven’t been able to attend to my other passions (aside from art which I somehow do more of when I’m stressed and procrastinating something fffgdvdbd)

tldr yes I’ll finish it no I don’t know when but I haven’t forgotten yall or the fic

here’s a tiny yukito on the back of my copy of the decagon house murders as compensation

[yaku-soba]

all roads lead home

༶•┈┈ general m.list 

༶•┈┈ tsukishima kei x gn!reader | angst with a hopeful ending :”)

tags/warnings: language, childhood friends, they’re exes but it gets better i promise, almost all the karasuno boys stay on in miyagi

word count: 3.7k

a/n: the edited version of an old fic i wrote for a followers event on my old blog :”) the prompt was i’ll name this city after you :D i hope yall enjoy this!! 

synopsis: You want (an apology, an explanation) to forget, and to get on the next train back to Tokyo, never mind that this is your first time visiting Miyagi in two years. Tsukishima wants to quit his shitty job as an overworked barista (at your favourite cafe, as if the night shifts weren’t tormenting enough). Tadashi just wants the three of you to have lunch together again. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

The sun is setting when you step off the train and onto a platform that you haven’t laid your eyes on in nearly two years. 

(It’s been a lifetime.)

The vending machine that you used to rap your knuckles against in the hopes of knocking free an extra drink is still in the corner, as dirty and forlorn as you remember. It’s oddly reassuring - in a liminal, jarring sort of way - like you’ve stepped off the train and into the past, like you’re eighteen again.  

“Y/n!” Tadashi looks much the same as he had when you’d graduated high school - smile maybe a little brighter, hands a little larger. Heart still as huge as it had been when you’d left. 

He holds his arms out and you jump, throwing yours around his neck. Tadashi wheezes at the sudden weight, and you laugh as his hands wrap around your waist to crush you to him by the small of your back, barely managing to keep the both of you upright.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/n.” He smiles earnestly, and you let go of his shoulders to pull at his cheeks, cooing. “Hey, stop that,” he whines, and when you refuse, he eyes you warningly, “I’ll drop you!”

You stick your tongue out at him childishly, but relent. He sets you back on the ground gently, and you turn back to pick up the bag you’d dropped. 

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go home.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

The peace doesn’t last. 

You really should have known, with the way Tadashi has been sneaking glances at you on the way out of the station. You’ve known him long enough to know what that expression means - he looks at you like he has something to say, but isn’t sure if he should, and that’s perfectly fine with you. 

You’re starting to think you just might make it all the way home when a corner of the night sky chips and falls away, cracking right down the middle as your best friend says softly, “You should go home.” 

You freeze. You know, instantly, what - who - he’s talking about. 

The betrayal stings the back of your throat like bile. 

You look away, fixing your eyes angrily - you can’t help it, Tadashi knows that you hate talking about this, about him, but he’d asked anyway - on the dried leaf skittering across the abandoned playground, at the mercy of the wind. 

“I am home,” you point out uncooperatively, feeling childish, “that’s why I’m back in this shithole.”

“That’s not what I meant,” your best friend says into the night air, still in that annoyingly gentle way of his that makes you want to scream into the empty streets of this empty town. You wait, an open heart raw in the world, but he says nothing more. 

(Two years later, and Tadashi still reads you as easily as he had when the two of you were six and tracing the lines on your palms. Dancing on the edge of a cliff but stopping just short of falling over.)

“Y/n?” Shit, of course you’d wander into him on your first night back, the universe has a personal vendetta against you, how could you have forgotten. 

Next to you, Tadashi has gone very, very silent. And still. A little like a mouse stuck between a cat and a snake; relieved to have been momentarily saved from the clutches of one, newly worried about both, and too afraid of drawing attention to run away. 

You’d laugh, if it weren’t for the rage rising in the back of your throat like bile, jagged like a broken promise. 

“Y/n,” the bastard behind you repeats, and the sound of your name leaving his tongue is nothing short of heartbreak, “I didn’t know you were back.”

Slowly, you turn. Tsukishima looks just as you remember - stupid glasses on a stupid face, his hair longer but no less beautiful. As aggravating as he is breathtaking. 

(Something in your chest - no, not your heart - aches. You reach down and crush it between your fingers the way you used to crumple the torn pages of your notebook into little balls, to throw them at Tadashi, or-)

“Tsukishima,” your voice is even, good, “I don’t see why it’s any of your business.” 

He flinches, a minute action you would have missed if you didn’t already know him better than the old callouses on your palm. Good, you think again more vindictively - except his eyes are widening just slightly in shock, two gold pools like shadowed streetlamps, and suddenly you’re eighteen again.

You’re eighteen, and in love, and you’re blind enough to say, I would do anything for you, I would scrape my knees on metaphorical sidewalks everyday for the rest of my life if I had to, just to make you smile. 

You’re eighteen, and you’re foolish enough to think, I would give you the world if you asked, surely you’d let me have your heart; your tiny hometown, your little safehouse. 

You're eighteen, and you’re in love - and then you realize he’s not, not the way you are, and you fall on your empty sidewalks because it hurts and it tears you apart, but most of all you hate that you still care. 

You hated being eighteen.

“If that’s all you wanted to say,” you continue coldly, “I’m leaving.”

You turn on your heel, avoiding Tadashi’s eyes. You won’t make him choose - you can’t do that to him.

Tsukishima says nothing as you stalk away down the empty streets and towards the house you grew up in. 

(Somehow, you’re disappointed.

You tell yourself it’s because it’s been a long day.)

“Y/n, wait!” Tadashi calls, and you lengthen your strides angrily even as you hear him puffing up the slight incline behind you. “Y/n!”

“What,” you hiss, stopping short. You don’t turn - you don’t want to check if Tsukishima’s still there. 

(You’ve seen enough of his back to last you a lifetime.)

“Are you okay?” Your best friend asks, and you look at him in disbelief.

“I thought you were on his side,” you say dumbly, before realizing that that’s a road that leads to ugly places. 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Tadashi says diplomatically before you can try to apologize, “I just want us - the three of us - to have lunch together again.”

You scoff, and start walking, adjusting your bag. “Sure, I’ll text Hinata, I’m sure he won’t mind as long as we agree to volleyball practice with him first.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tadashi says for the second time tonight, this time with a hint of frustration, “and you know it.”

“I do,” you acknowledge, “the same way you know that I want nothing to do with the four-eyed bastard.”

“You liked his glasses,” he tells you indignantly, catching up with you easily, “you used to steal them-”

“Liked, used to,” you snarl as the taut string of your patience finally snaps, “as in past tense. Leave if you’re just going to torment me. We both know I’ll get enough of it once I’m back home.”

Tadashi falls silent at that. A small part of you feels guilty, till you remember that it’s not your fault that he’d chosen to drag up old, unpleasant memories from beyond the grave, where you’d buried them. 

“Do you want me to stay for dinner?” He asks finally. An olive branch. 

You throw him a tense smile. “If you’d like.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and it’s like you’re looking at six year-old Tadashi again - young, painfully innocent, apologetic. “Okay, I’d like to. It’s been two years, after all.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

(You still think of him.

You could be baking in your kitchen in your apartment in Tokyo and all you can see is the curling steam of buns he bought at Sakanoshita store after practice. You could be walking past an electronics store and you’d find yourself looking at the TV screens, half-wondering if they replay the matches from a no-name high school in a far-away part of Japan.

They never do. 

It doesn’t stop you from seeing in your mind’s eye the surge of a block, the curve of taped fingers.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Because the universe hates you, you run into Tsukishima again, just a day into your brief return to Miyagi.

Walking through the glass doors of what had once been your favourite cafe and not paying attention to anything beyond one feet of you as you text Hinata that you’re there early, you don’t immediately notice that the barista has frozen in place. 

You look up.

Tsukishima is staring at you, a carton of milk in one hand, the other resting on the blender. Even against the battered machine, his fingers are painfully elegant. 

(Bandaged fingers against red and green and white. Pale fingers entwined with your own. A flash of memory, too painful to be anything but a curse.)

“Y/n?” He says, and it’s too much, it sounds so much like the way he’d said your name when you were seventeen, when you were eighteen, that your heart stutters and does a few flips on its way up your throat. A bad habit you never quite managed to get rid of. 

You turn around, and walk back the way you’d came. 

The bell tinkles mockingly as the door swings shut behind you. 

“Y/n?” You flinch, but it’s just Hinata. “I knew it! It really is you, Y/n!” Hinata, bless him, beams. Then, as his eyes fall to your white-knuckled grip on your phone, he asks, “Is something wrong?”

Nothing, you want to say, let’s go for brunch, shall we? Instead, what comes out is, “You didn’t tell me he worked here.” It ends up sounding a tad accusatory. You only regret it a little. 

“Oh, Tsukishima?” He asks casually, and you barely resist the urge to flinch at the name, “Sorry, I forgot.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and - it looks genuine. Hinata’s a terrible liar; you’d know if he was pulling a fast one on you. 

You sigh. It’s not even eleven in the morning, and you want to go home. “It’s fine,” you reassure him, even though it’s very much not, “let’s just find somewhere else to eat.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Do you have to leave?” He’s leaning against the door to your room, but there’s no relaxation in his posture. With his arms crossed and his brows furrowed, his face shut like a window screen, all Tsukishima looks is aggressive.

Something about the way he says have to, like it’s something unreasonable and selfish that you can’t let go of, grates on your nerves.

(Sometimes, when Tsukishima gets like this, he makes you feel small. More childish than child-like.)

“It’s a good opportunity for me,” you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said those six words, in that order, “and it’s a scholarship, too.” You can’t quite keep the irritation out of your voice. 

This is good for you, why can’t he just see that?

“Oh, so you’re one of those,” your boyfriend says, and there’s something ugly in his sneer that has you recoiling, “just going to-to up and leave, aren’t you? Build a new life for yourself in the fancy city now that you’re too good for this nowhere town in a no-name prefecture?”

You frown, properly frustrated now. “I’m not severing ties,” you say, “I know being in different prefectures will be tough, but it’s something that we can work around.” 

You hate that it almost sounds like you’re pleading. You shouldn’t have to. 

“We’re still in the same country - it’ll be easier to visit and call each other, with no time-zone differences in the way.”

Tsukishima laughs. It’s as sharp as the broken glass of a shattered photo frame. “Yeah, like I don’t know how these stories go.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Tsukishima sighs as eight p.m finally hits and he can turn the open sign on the door to closed. 

He goes through the routine that comes with working the last shift mindlessly - wiping down the tables and counters, pushing the chairs back into their neat places. 

(He wonders how long you’ll be in Miyagi.)

The trash bag crinkles as he ties it up, dragging it behind him to the back door. 

He’s only just hefted it into the dumpster specifically for un-recyclables when someone punches him in the face. Hard.

His glasses go flying, his annoyance skyrockets, and he barks, “What the hell?”

“I should be saying that!” His assaulter yells right back at him, “What the heck, Tsukishima?”

At the familiar voice, he stops, a retort on his tongue. 

Tsukishima squints, and the person who’d punched him shifts, hair glowing orange in the flickering light of a half-dead streetlamp. 

Ah, it’s the annoying, tiny boy. 

“What do you want,” Tsukishima says as flatly as he can muster, even as his stomach sinks and he knows, he knows what Hinata is here to talk about. “Hinata.” 

Hinata only grows more upset. Then he squares his shoulders and says, cold and unforgiving, “You didn’t tell Y/n.”

Tsukishima’s blood freezes in his veins. Suddenly, it’s the last set and the last point against Shiratorizawa, and the air is so thick and the eyes so cutting that he can’t move. 

“You didn’t apologize.” Hinata steps forward till they’re chest-to-chest, and Tsukishima doesn’t need his glasses to know that Hinata’s eyes are accusatory and angry. “Y/n came back and you still didn’t apologize.” 

I know, he thinks, I know I fucked up. Tsukishima isn’t dumb; even if Hinata hadn’t said it, he knows he should have gone after you last night. 

(He should have gone after you two years ago.)

He thinks Hinata already knows what he’s feeling. It’s not a pleasant thought. 

Tsukishima deals with this the only way he knows how, even as a voice that sounds like yours, small and heartbroken, says, don’t do it, not again. 

“It’s not your business,” he snaps, tone disdainful enough to cover his regret, and it reminds him of your words; it sinks into his flesh like a knife cutting into pliant bread, it tugs him apart like a million tiny hooks, “don’t stick your nose into things you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough,” Hinata hisses right back, “to know that you hurt Y/n and that you never bothered to apologize.” 

He pauses before going in for the kill. “And I know that you know that Y/n knows that it was complete bullshit. All you’ve managed to do is hurt the both of you.” Cocking his head slightly, he adds, the edge to his voice mostly gone, “And Tadashi-kun. All of us, really.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to argue, but - he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what he can say, because nothing Hinata has said is wrong. 

It’s not surprising - Tsukishima has known all of this for a very long time. He’d been deliberately ignoring it in the hopes that it would gather dust and fade into some distant corner of his mind. 

I’m just as much of a coward as I was two years ago, he thinks, and he still remembers the way your tears had caught the sun that terrible day in your bedroom, he remembers turning away so he didn’t have to look at the promise he’d broken. 

Hinata sighs, and trudges in the direction Tsukishima’s glasses had flown in, bending to rummage about on the ground. 

Tsukishima takes this brief moment of quiet to get his feelings under control before his body decides to do something uncooperative and ridiculous. Like leaking tears.

“Don’t break things you don’t intend to fix,” Hinata says into the silence as he hands Tsukishima his glasses. The barbed words he’d been trying to find die on his tongue. He slips his glasses on just to have something to do with his hands, and immediately wishes he’d just stayed half-blind instead.

Hinata’s eyes aren’t angry, or even disgusted. They’re disappointed, and that makes everything so much worse. 

Tsukishima loses control of his body. He opens his mouth, closes it. 

What could he even say? It’s not Hinata that he owes an apology to. 

“Thanks,” he says instead. Hinata nods and smiles. 

(“Y/n misses you,” Hinata says later, as they’re walking down the street. He offers no elaboration, but it’s enough.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi says as the last whistle for your train blows and Tsukishima still isn’t here, “you know how Tsukki is on the weekends, he might have slept in-”

“Till four in the afternoon?” You raise a brow. Tadashi’s mouth snaps shut, his face stuttering, and you sigh. He shouldn’t be apologizing. 

“It’s fine,” you say, as you step onto the train. You take your heart into your hands and rip it apart like a party favour. 

Tadashi, and the rest of the Karasuno team, waves at you long after the doors have shut and the train departed. 

You watch them through the window till they fade into shadows into specks into sky, and you know that you won’t be coming back for a long time. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

You’re only in Miyagi for the weekend. 

It’s been nice, seeing everyone again. You’d even had dinner with the rest of the team. 

(Tsukishima hadn’t been there.)

But the weekend has come to a close, and now it’s just you and Tadashi on the platform again. You experience a dizzying sense of deja vu. 

“Will you visit again?” Your best friend asks, and you tear your gaze from the tracks to meet his eyes. 

(You know what Tadashi is really asking.)

“Maybe,” you answer after a pause, “you’re my friend, after all. And I won’t put it past Hinata to get lost in Tokyo.”

Tadashi smiles in understanding. 

You feel terrible. All you’ve been giving him is compromises. 

“I’m sorry,” you say finally, glancing to the old vending machine on the opposite platform out of habit, “but I just-”

“He misses you,” Tadashi cuts in, “and I think he wants to apologize.”

His words take you aback. Then, “He wants to apologize,” you repeat, and it’s like you’re eighteen again, “but Tsukishima’s too proud for it, isn’t he?” 

“Tsukki’s changed,” Tadashi mumbles, “maybe next time-”

“Y/n!” The both of you turn at the voice.

The breath rushes out of your lungs. A boy with hair like sunlight and eyes like gold coins catches his, bent over with his hands on his knees, a glowing figure in the middle of a dreary platform.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

For you, Tsukishima has always been synonymous with Miyagi. 

Miyagi with the pork buns, with the school full of crows. The prefecture with the hills and the mountains, the small stores and marts run by ex-volleyball players. 

Miyagi, your hometown, where the sky above and the grass below and the people beside you had witnessed you asking a boy for the second button of his gakuran at graduation. Your little safehouse of dreams dreamt of flight. 

Tsukishima was the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had wanted. He’d been the boy with the glasses you’d hated on anyone else but him, the boy who had dreamt of the endless blue with his feet still on the ground. 

He’s the boy you see in every empty, half-lit street at midnight, and behind every fading sign. The lamps in every lit house become his eyes, golden like the light of a possibly-dead star, and every window reflects the shine of his glasses. Like a haunting - a boy becomes a town becomes a memory. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

“What do you want?” You ask when it becomes clear that Tsukishima isn’t going to break the silence. “My train’s coming soon.”

(Tsukishima has always been Miyagi to you.

You don’t really want the train to come. Not when you’re finally about to get a goodbye two years overdue.)

“I’m sorry,” the boy with the glasses that you had liked, the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had held in your palm like he’d held your heart, says finally. “I was afraid.”

He doesn’t say what of. You already know, and for now, it’s enough that he’s here at all. 

“You were too proud,” you tell him softly, “I was willing to be afraid together.” 

This isn’t anything new either. Tsukishima isn’t dumb. He must have known.

“Did you regret it?” You ask as the train pulls into the station. 

The boy who is Miyagi to you smiles. “I’m glad you got the scholarship.” His eyes are bright. His hair is a little longer, now. 

You step forward as the last whistle blows in warning, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

You turn, getting onto the train with a backwards wave.

The doors close. 

The boy who is pork buns and dimly lit streets holds up a hand even as he fades into the distance, joined by a shorter silhouette. 

They get smaller and smaller until they’re shadows, then specks, then nothing but sky. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

For you, Miyagi has always been a boy.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been - there’s Tadashi, after all, and your senpais.

You tear your safehouse down brick by brick. You hand one to everyone you’ve ever talked to in Miyagi, to everyone you’ve ever loved. 

Tsukishima is joined by Tadashi, and the homeroom teacher who’d confiscated most of the balled-up notes passed between the three of you in class. You add Hinata, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Sugawara; you build a volleyball court and see crows in the sky. 

Miyagi is Tsukishima is Karasuno is volleyballs is the sting of skinned knees on dimly-lit streets. 

(Tsukishima’s contact is still saved in your phone. You had never been able to bring yourself to delete it.

You think about your next holiday break. You think about the extra shifts at your part-time job you’ll have to take in order to afford the train tickets.)

You miss Miyagi. You’re relieved that you’re allowed to admit to yourself that you miss Miyagi, now. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :D

[tsukifanbase]

Obey Me! Brothers Visit MC During Autumn: Lucifer, Mammon, and Belphie

Authors Note: i'm thinking I might make this a series, like at the beginning of every season just something similar to this 👀 sorry I haven't written much lately! school's taking up pretty much all my time nowadays-- anywhosie, enjoy! [ also s p o i l e r s] (oh btw this is gonna take place after mc leaves devildom for the summer, before they come back to devildom) lmk if yall want pt 2 with the other characters

Warnings: fluff, bruh absolute just fluff everywhere like so much, mb a lil bit of angst but that's what all my writing is like so hehe

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

Lucifer

- i feel like lucifer would’ve visited you in the human realm before

- like probably sometime over the summer, but he hadn’t seen you in a while and he was starting to miss his favorite human :(

- not like he’d ever admit to that

- i don’t think luci would really be the type to wait until you summoned him for something, if he wants to make sure you’re okay, he’s gonna come see you lmao

- anyways

- lucifer had been staring out the window for quite a while- he had been doing paperwork, but somehow even when you were in a different realm, you managed to disrupt him

- he chuckled to himself at that thought, then sighed

- you had been rather difficult to focus around, always getting yourself into trouble

- luci couldn’t catch a break when you went to RAD

- he missed you

- a lot

- lucifer glanced back at his desk, where he had been working just moments before

- his eyes landed on an unsigned piece of paper that had your name on it

- you could come back home if he got you to sign it

- in truth, lucifer hadn’t really thought about finding a way to get you back to devildom. he certainly missed you, but the idea that he could actually arrange your return just hadn’t hit him yet

- until three days prior, when the sheet with your name on it appeared on his desk

- lucifer had a sneaking suspicion who put it there

- it was diavolo let’s be real

- the real mystery was why lucifer hadn’t gone to bring you the permission slip already

- he had waited- it had been three days, and he couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to go give it to you

- lucifer didn’t want to put you in the position of having to choose between your life in the human realm or your life in devildom

- but he missed you

- and so, luci checked his watch to make sure it wasn’t three in the morning, then grabbed the permission slip before making his way outside 

- it would be okay to be selfish, just this once, right?

- lucifer arrived at your home at four in the afternoon, you weren’t there

- so he found a way to open the door, bruv you hid the key under the doormat he didn’t really have a hard time lmao 

- you walked into your bedroom at nearly quarter past four and immediately flopped onto your bed

- you didn’t even notice that lucifer was watching from your desk in the corner of your room

- he walked over to you and stared at you

- bro he literally didn’t say anything, he just waited ahaha thats not creepy

- lucifer crossed his arms over his chest and you finally looked up 

- your eyes locked and you quietly asked, “luci?”

- lucifer narrowed his gaze at you and answered you with an, “mhm?”

- and then you freaked out, because honestly you half thought you were hallucinating or something, you jumped up to give lucifer a hug

- don’t get me wrong here, i have the intense feeling that lucifer doesn’t like hugs, but i also have the intense feeling that you and the occasional brother are the exception to that rule

- so

- when you clasped your arms around him, luci barely hesitated in returning the gesture

- he pulled you close, like he never wanted to let go again

- you eventually pulled back to ask why he had come to visit you

- it wasn’t like he didn’t visit often, just usually he had a reason to, even if it was just because he wanted to check up on you

- oh and all that nerve luci had about being selfish for once in his lifetime, yeah that was gone XD

- so your question kinda caught him off guard, like it just seemed like he forgot because for a hot sec he was just staring at you like, ‘uh huh im sorry what was that?’

- when he didn’t answer, you took the lead

- “do you wanna go to the fall festival with me?”, you asked, a bright grin spreading across your face

- and obviously luci knew what a fall festival was, he just didn’t really see your request coming

- but i mean he nodded so lmao

- pretty soon y’all were walking down the street, stopping at random carts at the festival to look at autumn themed stuff

- luci didn’t have human money, so every time he showed a vague interest in something and you offered to buy it for him, he would start squabbling about not wanting you to spend your money and blah blah

- you’d wait until he started walking away from the cart and then buy it for him anyways ;)

- somehow along the way, lucifer suggested you guys hold hands to stay together in the crowd uh huh yeah right lmao

- it was nearing the end of the festival when you remembered there was a park down the street, so you turned to luci and asked, “mind if i show you something?”

- he agreed and you guys started walking down the street, and lemme say the park kinda blew lucifer’s mind

- he was aware that leaves on trees changed colors depending on the season, but he wasn’t expecting how beautiful they were 

- yellows, and oranges, some red, here and there

- and then he turned to look at you

- right at home, where you belonged

- wearing a shirt luci was pretty sure you stole from him, sipping warm apple cider

- the most beautiful thing in that entire park was you, he was sure of it

- lucifer felt the permission slip crinkle in his pocket, and he made up his mind about showing it to you

- he wasn’t going to

- “lucifer, are you okay?”, you sounded concerned, and you brought the hand that had been holding his own to brush a piece of his hair out of his face

- lucifer smiled at you, really smiled, and then replied, “yes, my dear, i’m quite all right”

Mammon

- ok so u guys remember when about two minutes ago i said lucifer wasn’t the type to wait until you summoned him

-well let’s give mammon some credit where it’s due

- he triedd to wait until you summoned him

- bb is many things but he is not patient XD

- ok lets get into it

- mammon was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling

- he wasn’t really thinking about anything?? but he had been sitting there for like an hour lmao

- asmo and satan were standing in the doorway like, ‘is he okay? does he need a doctor?’

- since usually when people think of mammon they do not think, ah yes his normal activity of... doing nothing?

- then out of nowhere, mammon sat up and his brothers quickly fled the scene to avoid being caught lmao

- mammon got a big grin on his face, and he strut out of his room to go bother you

- he had gotten into the habit of going to find you whenever he was bored or lonely

- he arrived at your bedroom, and just before his fist hit the door to knock, he realized that you weren’t in there

- that you weren’t even in devildom

- mammon barely hesitated before spinning on his heel and heading to lucifer’s office

- he wasn’t even really conscious of what he was doing, but mammon knew why he was about to go ask to visit you

- he needed you, more than he ever truly realized

- when you arrived at your apartment that afternoon, you were greeted by your landlord in the lobby, he informed you that there was a strange man sitting outside of your apartment, who was insisting that he needed to see you

- you practically dropped the grocery bag you were holding, nodded to your landlord, thanked him, and then began sprinting towards your apartment

- mammon was sitting in front of your door, staring down at his hands, he didn’t even notice that you had walked up to him

- you immediately noticed something was off with him, so you dropped to your knees to bring him into a hug, “what’s wrong?”

- he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms around you, “nuthin'”, now that you were with him

- after you both relished in being reunited, you hopped up and grinned at him, “you’ve got perfect timing!”

- you went to unlock your apartment door, and pointed at the grocery bag that you had abandoned on the floor- it was full of apples

- mammon stood and picked up the bag for you, “apples?”, he questioned, he wasn’t really familiar with human cuisine but it seemed a little bit strange to just buy a massive bag of apples

- “i’m gonna make desert!”, you opened the door and walked into your apartment, then closed the door behind mammon, “and you’re gonna help me”

- the smile you gave him made his heart melt

- he had missed you so much

- “pfffff, why would i do that?”, mammon’s cheeks were flushed red, he crossed his arms and looked away from you, trying to hide his embarrassment 

- you were grabbing something out of your cabinet, it looked like sugar, “because”, you smiled at him 

- “what kind of reason is that-”

- he helped you make the apple pie lmao

- mammon lifted a bite of the pie up to his face to look at it, “what even is this?” 

- he wasn’t asking in a mean way, he just genuinely didn’t know what he was looking at lol

- “just try it! i promise you’ll like it!”, you told him from the kitchen, you were putting away ingredients

- mammon huffed, and you gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse

- “if you try it, i’ll give you a present”, he immediately tried the dessert

- greedy boi

- mammon thought it was delicious, but he wasn’t about to tell you that, “i guess it’s alright, now you’re gonna gimme something?” 

- you nodded and walked over to where he was sitting, “hey, what’re ya doin’?”, you gave him a peck on the cheek

- mammon fell silent for a second, and then his face burst into flames as he watched you grin and return to putting things away

- and honestly that was the best gift you could’ve given him

Belphie

- ok so im sorry but belphie is definitely the type of demon to wait for you to summon him

- i don’t make the rules XD

- he is tired boy, and while he may love and care about you a lot, going to the human realm takes a lotttttttt of energy lmao

- like he has to walk allllllll the way to lucifer’s office and ugh just like no too much work

- so anyways lmao

- you hadn’t really planned on summoning bel at all

- you were lying in bed, a lazy morning like so many you had shared together

- this one was more beautiful than any you had ever experienced before

- the leaves were changing colors just outside your window, the sunlight of a late morning breaching your bedroom through the leaves, and hitting your face

- the weather had gotten colder recently, so you had added more blankets to your bed to accommodate

- or maybe you were trying to make up for the loss of your cuddle buddy

- either way, you were wrapped securely in blankets

- and everything seemed perfect

- except you were missing the best part of sleeping in, of staying in bed until the early afternoon

- you were missing your best friend

- so you decided to change that

- you barely had to think about how to summon him, one second, he wasn’t there, and the next, belphie was lying on top of you

- he was sleeping, as usual

- bel clutched you tight in his sleep, mumbling something about missing you under his breath

- he was dreaming about you

- because as little energy he had to go visit, that didn’t mean that belphie didn’t miss you

- in fact, nearly every day since you left devildom, bel had complained to beel about how cold his bed was

- bel had trouble sleeping for a while after you left, unbelievable, but true

- he had grown so accustomed to falling asleep every night to the sound of your breath, your scent, your warmth

- belphie opened his eyes mid afternoon, he realized why he had been sleeping so soundly when he glanced down to see who he was hugging

- your eyes were closed and he assumed you were asleep

- bel sighed blissfully and hugged you tighter, pressing a kiss to your head

- “i missed you”, he mumbled into your hair

- “i missed you too, bel”

[doctorho]

hi everyone!!

here's a little writing update note for you (and a sticky mental note for me):

i've been very busy and very tired and very anxious lately, so i haven’t made much writing progress. i am still writing, and haven’t abandoned anything, i'm just. ya know. slowly running up that hill. you know how it is.

currently, on my to-do list (and future plans, and currently ongoing projects) i have:

- finishing the royal au (we're getting there yall!!! slowly!! but we're getting there!!!)

- that "that was stupid" prompt i got a WHILE ago. i'm gonna do something fun with that

- a modern au (idea by @thedreamlessnights ), featuring viktor as biomedical physicist who helps the reader out with Some Situation at a party (originally he was going to be a straight up doctor, but i tweaked this a little bit because i don’t know shit about what actual doctors do)

- writing background fic for the letter series by @buttermynutter (which you should all check out if you haven't already!!)

- i also kind of. like. i want to write Something about Someone teaching Someone to fight (and OBVIOUSLY they like each other but neither one does anything about it and it's like. Oh No They’re So Close) i just think that would be neat. i have no idea how this would work though. like what kind of a situation would make sense and which characters. idk. but it seems Tasty. if you have suggestions/ideas about this i would love to hear them

anyway. that's what’s going on over here, hopefully i'll have some new words for you this weekend. no promises tho i plan to sleep approximately a hundred hours between friday and monday

[trixree]

fic things that I am up to:

Since the semester started up, I've been ridiculously busy between school and work and general life-shit. I promise I haven't abandoned any of my WIPs, but I wanted to give yall something more tangible besides just promises to tide you over. So, look below the cut for more info on what I'm working on and when I estimate things will be done, and thank you all for your continued support! (Pssst: if you follow me for One Piece content, I have a new One Piece WIP in the works. peep below for more info.)

I've never made it with moderation, chapter 2

4000k and counting Yeah, it should be longer by now, but I decided that I wanted to tell part two of this story from Cody's POV so I'm having to re-write a decent chunk of what I already had. My hope is to have this story finished by the end of September.

Folklore

1200k and counting This is a commission for the amazingly, bafflingly talented @sl-walker who is letting me play in the Blackbirds sandbox!!! (I know, I can't believe it either!) It'll cover various clone-POV's in the Blackbirds universe in the wake of certain recent events. I'm aiming to have this drabble completed by the end of the week, fingers crossed!

Why Not's and How To's, chapter 9

1000k and counting Next up on your previously-scheduled drama: Obi-Wan comes home to find Maul Upset, Fox Upset, and Anakin Upset. Also, Cody has a request for the vode's lawyer. Est. completion by the end of September.

The Kids Are Not Alright

7000k and counting This is my take on the Baby!Batch AU, wherein the Bad Batch are all about sixteen developmentally and Echo signs on as their ori'vod. It'll be a one-shot, probably around the 11k mark when it's complete, and it is most definitely a fix-it. No romantic pairings, but past Echo/Fives. Est. completion is up in the air.

please let the devil in

1500k and counting My aim with chapter two is to have it complete by the first week of October. What better month for monster-fucking? I've got a full outline down and I'm really excited about this one, especially as the official Spooky Season draws near. I really enjoy Halloween, okay?

Sink

500k and counting A modern magical realism AU. Sanji is a witch, Zoro is sea-touched, and neither of them know who (or what) the fuck this Luffy kid is, but an argument can be made that he's a literal god. Which. is very not okay, in Sanji's opinion. Aiming for mid-late October on this one!

[raypakorn]

fanfiction writer appreciation: skamverse edition

writing can sometimes take a lot of work out of us but it’s also such a beautiful thing and sometimes, it doesn’t get the recognition that it deserves. so, if you see this and you aren’t tagged, i want you to know that you are an amazing writer OR if you are a reader and aren’t tagged, but would like to spread the love to the writer’s YOU enjoy, do it! DO IT! spread all the love. i know all the writers of all fandoms (not even limited to the skam fandom) would love to hear from those who read their fics.

tagged by @yasminaselamrani , thanks for the tag brenna! i love to show support to any lovely content creators and writers are as much of apart of that as anyone.

if you’re a writer:

a fic that you’re really proud of:


the only fic that is currently posted is love is the tuesdays, and while i am proud of it because it’s been years since i’ve written an actual fanfic..will likely say i’m more proud of the wip i am doing.

a fic that you were nervous to post:

oh i was definitely nervous to post love is the tuesdays as i mentioned i’d been a while since i had written a fanfic and i always feel weird trying to write canon characters because i’m so afraid i won’t capture their characterization in the right way. also i was writing it based off this moodboard so i wanted it to be what everyone was looking for. however, as per usual like the clutch friend liz is she calmed me down.

a fic you wished got more hits/kudos/comments:

sometimes i feel like a dick saying this because it can come across like i’m not appreciative of people’s interest/compliments in stuff i do but it’s really not that. however, tbh, you’re never going to hear me complain about any feedback or lack thereof on anything i do. (other people’s things on the other hand...yes show them all the love please!) when it comes to me though ANY (even if it’s just liz screaming at me about it) is more than enough for me. i do everything for fun or just to get it out of my head so having even just one person enjoy it, i’m all good with that. so the comments/kudos/people interested in what i wrote/write, just thank you for showing any at all and as long as it makes one person’s day - i’m happy.

one of your favorite tropes to write:

despite me writing a completely fluffy domestic fic, i’m actually an angsty bitch. so i love writing enemies-to-lovers.... also love reading it. 

another ship that you don’t write but you’d like to write:

if i had the time and an actual idea, i would love to write an elu fic but alas i have neither.

one of your abandoned wip you never wrote but wish you did:

i mean it’s not technically abandoned per say but i have an au that i literally have saved as an ‘au i’ll never write’ because i’m not putting the pressure on myself to write it. but i wish again i had the time to write it because i definitely like the idea.

another writer you would love to collaborate with:

@hidden-joy...while i love the rest of you and you’re all so damn talented, it takes a certain chemistry and level of comfort to be able to write with someone.

if you’re a reader:

a fic (or more) that you love to reread:

hands down my comfort fic is save us by @luxandobscurus caro really has a way with words and it has such a good level of angst as well as fluff. i cry every single time. there’s also a little drabble called half of who i am isn’t all my fault by her as well that i reread all the time.

tag an author you always love reading:

obviously caro (kind of mad i didn’t realize you posted your fwb fic. like where have i been???) but also @surrealsunday i’ve read pretty much every single fic of jamie’s as well. there’s still times where my mind thinks of mood tattoo and i will just say ‘fucking jeremy’ and i’ll have a good laugh. from the wtfock fandom @sonderthroughthestreets, @foxsake5, & @yasminaselamrani, love reading everything they write as well.

recommend a story to your followers:

as brenna said, yall really should read @tsjernobyl’s sobbe’s dirty dancing au as once i started reading i couldn’t stop. it’s so dfskjkdjk good, excited to read the next chapter. another fic i really love and recommend that i haven’t spoken about is one call away by @demaury as i said i’m angsty bitch.

tag an author you discovered recently:

i wouldn’t say i discovered recently because i had read one of @kissjane‘s fics before but i have been making my way through the rest of her fics i haven’t read yet. and i have been having a good time with it 💛

spread the love!

tag someone who inspires you to write:

probably going to be a broken record but @hidden-joy, biggest support and biggest inspiration. but i really admire all of the authors i have mentioned and they inspire me to be a better writer as well.

tag someone who you’ve admired forever:

@demaury, @surrealsunday, @sonderthroughthestreets​, @earthlingeliott​, @lucasotteli (one of the best social media aus that i have read), @yasminaselamrani, @luxandobscurus

tag your writing support and loves!

@hidden-joy... she’s really the only one i talk to about my writing and obviously she’s the most supportive person on the planet. though i do apprecaite the feedback that @luxandobscurus, @sanderxrobbee, and @sonderthroughthestreets have given so far, though. also really anyone who’s left a comment on ao3 or come to DM me. seriously i give you a kisseth on the forehead. i promise i am going to finish that last chapter...eventually.

tagging:

everyone who has already been tagged in this, @unhappilysane, @letisnotonfire , and since i don’t know who else is a big fic reader if you see this and liked to do this than i tag you.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - part 5 - the isle.

warning: talk of non-con selling of sex in last bit of chapter

(note: (n/n) means = Nick name)

=

Mal took a heaving breath as she led her scooter towards the edge of the cliff, facing towards the isle of the lost. Harry repositioned behind her, tightening his grip on the cushion below him.

Mal let out a few sputtering sobs and lifted her goggles off the bridge of her nose and placed them on top of her helmet. she swung her backpack off her shoulders and grabbed her spellbook from her bag, hurriedly shifting through the pages to find the correct spell. There it was. “Noble steed/proud and fair/you will take us/anywhere”

The scooter glowed purple for a moment before it went back to normal, and Harry could swear the barrier had shimmered purple as well.

Mal stuffed her book back in her bag and shrugged it back on, turning to Harry while reshifting her goggles back onto her nose “hang tight, and onto me, I know it'll be uncomfortable but I don’t know if this will work, and I still can't swim” Harry sighed and released the cushions, wrapping is arms around Mal's torso and leaning against her.

“okay, hoo” she took a deep breath again, revving the engine of her scooter “please work”

“Mal if this doesn’t work and we die I am going ta kill yeh!” Harry yelped as Mal suddenly swerved to the right towards the steep slope down towards the beach and lead the bike onto the ocean.

The bike hopped on the surface a couple of times before smoothing out, Mal looked over her and Harry's shoulders back to Auradon and let out a breathy laugh, she was free!!!! Free from the pastel dresses, the invading press, the bobby pins, the painful too small at her toe heels, the rules, everything!

She could finally be herself again.

She and Harry let out a gasp as the barrier shimmered over them, the feeling of her magic draining from her was probably the worst feeling she had ever experienced, yet the scooter was still running atop the water. “odd” she muttered to herself, slapping the handle of her scooter as she remembered FGs explanation of good-intentioned magic being allowed to exist behind the border.

And she was doing everybody a favor by going back to the isle, so it had to be good-intentioned…right?

She took a hard right, making Harry yelp, and rolled into the wharf market that was near the Core fours hideout. Harry finally looked around, fixing the black motor helmet over his head as he passed his fellow isle pirates.

Mal suddenly stopped, looking to her left and taking off her goggles, Harry looked away from the market and towards her, raising his brow as she tore down the defiled poster with her and Ben on it and bunched it up, she threw it over her shoulder and replaced her goggles. She drove the scooter down to the next block and parked it in the slot next to the ascending stairs up to the core fours apartment. Harry quickly slid off the back and ripped the helmet from his head, shaking around to get rid of the squished feeling on his ears.

“I’m never doing tha’ again” Harry growled, his icy blue eyes locking with Mals now dull green ones as she passed by him and walked over to the entrance of her apartment. She picked up a rock and chucked it at the yellow sign with the words ‘danger flying rocks’. the sign swung back and the metal fence door lifted up.

Mal glanced back at Harry and gestured to the hideout, inviting him into the safe space. He shook his head and held his hands up, the weight of the helmet in his left hand shifting a bit “nah, I swore never ta step foot in tha’ place, I’ll be at meh apartment for a bit till I go talk ta Uma” Mal tilted her head at him.

“why do you want to talk to Uma?” she asked, leaning over the railing of the steps. Harry gave her a look.

“I need her ta know I haven’t abandoned her” Mal's mouth made an ‘o’ shape as she nodded, realizing what Harry was talking about.

“I get it….sorry, I know I was part of the distraction that prevented Ben from getting more kids off” she sighed, scratching the back of her head. “I've- I wish I could’ve done something more- I-I just” Harry held his hand up again, shaking his head.

“I know, lemme say this from (y/n)s perspective because from mine I would just blame yeh fully” Mal let out a little snort, if anything her and Harry's distaste of each other hadn’t changed in the last 6 months, which was nice. “yeh were under a lot of stress, and it’s not yer job ta make sure Ben follows through on his promise to bring more vks over” Mal shook her head, pushing up on her toes and pouting at Harry.

“but I could have helped with moving it further along, it was my fault that he kept blowing you and (y/n) off on those meetings for the vks, I could have…I don’t know made him think we were having a date in his office and then you two just make him sit through the meeting or something” Mal sighed, leaning her cheek on her hand.

Harry shrugged again, looking down the alley “aye possibly, I’ll be back at meh apartment if yeh need meh, Jay will know where it is” Mal quirked her brow again.

“huh?” Harry smirked up at Mal, rolling his eyes.

“did yeh really think those three would jus’ leave ye ‘ere? and yeh know once (y/n) finds out I’m ‘ere too she’ll drag me off by meh ear” Mal rolled her eyes.

“I guess….though I was kinda betting on someone coming over and taking me back, I’m really just here to get away from it all” Harry nodded at that.

“aye, once we crossed the barrier yeh regretted this a bit didn’t yeh?” Mal nodded a bit.

“…yeah, that feeling of magic being drained from me it was just….made everything come back, now I remember why we all wanted to leave so bad….I guess the stress from Auradon made this place seem a lot better than it was” Mal sighed, looking up to the dark grey sky.

Harry nodded again and started to back away “aye, when the rest of em get here, just tell (y/n) I’m at meh apartment and Jay can lead ‘er there” Mal waved him off and watched him disappear into the dark alleys towards the wharf. She tapped her heel against the steel stairs nervously as he left her sight.

God, she hoped Hook wouldn’t find out about Harry’s presence on the isle.

She couldn’t bear to hear those sounds again.

=

You sighed as you leaned back in the cushioned chair in Ben's office, watching him quickly write down on the papers for cotillion. You had bust into his office about an hour ago, waiting until he finally talked about his fight with Mal. He stopped, looking up at you through his lashes before sighing and leaning back against his chair. “I really screwed up didn’t I” he finally muttered, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling.

“yep” you popped your lips, smirking as he groaned and rubbed his face in stress.

“but she lied to me! She lied about everything and thought she could get away with it! And-and” you rose your brow as he looked back to you. “-god I was just so angry at her for doing that but then….god I fucking compared her to Audrey” you blinked at that.

“you-I-wow Ben, that’s….alright then” you chuckled, pinching your nose and standing from your chair, walking over to bens desk and leaning on it “alright imma say it straight, and before you ask, I’m from a world where yall are a movie remember?” Ben nodded, slightly confused at the last part, leaning back slightly as (y/n)s disappointed look turned to a glare. “you are valid to be mad at Mal for lying to you about using her magic, you are valid to be mad at her for doing that. But you have to understand, she.is.not.you. she is not Evie, she is not Audrey, and she is not from here.

She is from the isle, where EVERYTHING was different for her, there were no rules, there was no press, there was no dress code, there was no nothing, she could just do whatever she wanted. Going from that, to having a billion rules and demands from everyone, is extremely stressful”

Ben tried to speak up but you silenced him with a glare “you may say ‘but I never asked her to be anything other than herself’ you never told her that, when she started to try being the perfect Auradon girl, you never told her that you liked it, you never told her you didn’t like it, you just let her keep going, which in her head translated it as ‘oh he likes me better this way, I’ll keep going’ I know you have that stained glass window with her in her full isle style self, but that window would have been helpful two months ago when all this shit started. She's having an identity crisis Ben, she needs support and guidance, now I don’t mean she needs her hand held, she needs someone to say that she's doing the right thing, that she's not screwing anything up.

she needed someone to say that she didn’t have to change because she was already perfect, yes, her attitude and shit needed work but as a whole? She was fine, she didn’t need to change the way she spoke, or walked, or dressed, or smiled. She just needs to learn that it's okay not to be okay, and to ask for help. She JUST learned that she wasn’t the only person in the world 6 months ago, and now she needs to learn that it's okay that she's not doing okay.

And you haven’t helped her with that, you have just stood by and acted like nothing was wrong, and that’s what is wrong Ben, you live in this world of lollipops and sunshine, that you don’t see what’s two inches in front of you! And that’s not a bad thing, I love that you’re an optimist, but when It comes to not seeing that something is wrong with your friends, that’s when it becomes a problem.” You sighed, leaning back and cracking your neck.

“again, I will say you being mad at Mal for lying to you about using her magic and…lying to you about how she was doing is completely valid. but you again have to understand, her entire existence, up until 6 months ago, was pleasing her mother.

and when her mother was turned into a mini dragon, her people-pleasing tendencies turned to you, and what she thought would please you most. And that would be a perfect Auradon girl. That’s why she did all that, because she thought you would prefer her that way instead of her actual self. On both sides of your argument, you both are in the wrong, and you both are in the right, but because you both lack communication between the two of you”

you held up your hand again as Ben tried to speak “neither of you truly talk to each other, yes you talk, but not really, you never asked about her boundaries, she never asked you about what you wanted, both of you suffered because you just won't talk to each other like that, you need to talk to each other and find out what is going on with the other to find balance in your relationship. Ben, you can't just rely on the other to come forward, you both have to if you see a problem in the relationship.

And the problem with yours is that you don’t know how to look past the surface and see beneath anything, and Mal doesn’t know how to ask for help. I’m not saying your shallow, I’m saying you’ve lived in a world of everything is perfect and nothing is ever wrong; so it's hard for you to realize that someone is having a hard time, and Mal has lived in a world where asking for help meant weakness or even worse death.” Ben paled at that

“so both of you have to teach the other about yourselves, Mal can teach you how to look beneath the front mask of people and see their true selves and intentions, and you can teach mal to soften up and learn that asking for help is not a bad thing anymore”

You sat back down in your chair and crossed your arms, waiting for Ben’s response as he just stared at you “I know, that was one big ol’ rant but it needed to be said” you laughed, cracking your neck and sighing “I haven’t talked that much in….never” Ben rolled his eyes and leaned forward on his hands.

“I need to talk to her” you nodded, shifting in your chair.

“what you need is to take your relationship slower Ben, it's only been six months, don’t you think that’s a little fast? especially for Mal who’s never done anything like this before? Something like cotillion and her being introduced as Lady of the court would be something that happened in a year, not six months. I think it would be better to celebrate the half-year of the vks being here than all that.” Ben paused for a moment, then groaned, flopping back in his chair.

“I’m an idiot” He muttered, you snorted and rolled your eyes “of course she's not ready for all this….I really should have paid attention to her more instead of just assuming that she was okay with everything changing so fast” he sighed, glancing back at you. You nodded to him, letting him know he was on the right track.

The two of you sat up as the door to Ben’s office opened suddenly and Evie stepped in, knocking rapidly on Ben’s door. “Evie!” Ben sighed, letting a smile bloom on his face. “come in” she quickly stepped into the room and closed the door. She let out a shuddering sigh and looked from you to Ben. You sighed, closing your eyes, right you had forgotten about Mal going back.

“Mal’s gone back to the isle” Evie's voice wavered, looking down at the floor as she quickly walked over to Ben and handed him a note. Before he could read it she said his name, and handed him the golden class ring Ben had given Mal during the coronation.

He stared at it for a few moments before hurriedly unfolding the note and reading it, his eyes shining as his shoulders dropped as he read the note. “this-this is my fault! She had been under so much pressure lately and I-I was the last straw….I shouldn’t have yelled at her like that” he bit his lip, a few tears trailing down his cheeks and hitting the top of his desk “she wasn’t even doing anything bad with her magic she was just taking a few shortcuts….I have to go to the isle and get her back myself! It's dangerous over there and she could get hurt…I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her” he turned to the window, peering out the side where he could see the edge of the ocean.

“Ben you’ll never find her! The isle is huge and she has a million hiding places!” Evie sighed, rubbing her arms as she thought about what she was about to do “you have to take me with you” Ben turned around, looking at Evie with wide eyes.

“I can't let you do that” he muttered, his shoulders dropping “I don’t want anything happening to you” Evie shook her head defiantly.

“I’m going, you don’t even know how to get from the entrance to the market, you need someone who knows the isle sand from stone…and I can't leave her there either, there's no doubt she’s made some enemies over there that are just waiting for a moment to strike, and without her mother's protection…even if it was lousy protection, she could get seriously hurt, or even worse killed…” Ben turned pale again, he didn’t want to think about that. “and she's my best friend Ben, I won't just leave her….and we’ll bring the boys too, because there's safety in numbers and I’m betting none of us are popular over there right now” Evie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, she stopped, watching as Gil entered the room quickly and slammed the door behind him “Gil?” he looked to you, his face place and his body shaking.

“Gil what's wrong?” you asked, standing up quickly and walking over to him “you look like you’ve seen a ghost” he let out a small whimper and handed you a piece of paper from Harry's journal. “what-“ you felt your world stop.

-Gil, I’m sorry, but I’m going back to the isle with Mal, I’m not planning on staying but I need to make a point to beasty boy. I'll stay out of sight I promise.

-Harry

Harry had gone back to the isle with Mal “he what?!” you half screeched, almost stumbling back into the seats in front of Bens desk if it wasn’t for Gils hands on your shoulders

“(y/n)” Evie gasped, rushing over to you and wrapping her arm around your torso “what’s-oh no” she read the note, her face forming into a look of horror “Harry’s gone back to the isle too” she muttered, covering her mouth with a gasp. Ben furrowed his brows in confusion.

“why-you sound like it's even worse that he went back?” he asked, walking over to the three of you and glancing at the paper.

“because it is” Evie looked up at Ben “Harrys had it a lot worse than Mal, his- his father” you felt a cold chill rush over your skin and you broke from Gil and Evie's grip.

“his father what?” you snapped, the vks flinching from your dark tone. “tell me.”

“his-his dad um…he sold him when he didn’t have money” Gil muttered, his face turning green from the memories.

“or just didn’t feel like spending money” Evie snapped, hand clenching so hard you would hear her knuckles crack.

“…sold him?” Ben asked naively, Evie and Gil looked at him with sad eyes.

“he sold him to others to have….sex with” Gil paused between his words, they were almost too hard to get out “when he bought his rum or whatever he felt like drinking, I don’t remember how long it was happening but if Hook finds out Harry is on the isle….we might not ever see Harry again” you and Ben looked at each other and nodded.

“then it's settled” Ben clenched his fist around Mal's note and his ring, watching you as you grit your teeth and your eyes turn dark “we head to the isle as soon as possible, we can't risk anything happening to Harry or Mal” the three of you nodded and rushed out of Bens office to collect Carlos and Jay.

‘oh Harry’ you felt tears burn in your eyes as you burst into your dorm room and grabbed a change of clothes that suit the isle ‘why didn’t you tell me’ you stopped, seeing a large piece of paper from Harry's journal sitting on your desk. You quickly walked over and grabbed it, unfold it, and start to read.

-to my dear (n/n)

I’m sorry, but I’m going back to the isle. No, we aren’t breaking up, this has nothing to do with you, I’m making a point to Ben.

I know he and the others will stop at nothing to get Mal back from the isle and I needed to make sure Ben would see the isle for what it really is. A place where no child should be and hopefully, he will get a move on for the vk transfer thing.

I also needed to see Uma and my sisters; they need to know I haven’t abandoned them. I know you’ll be coming with Ben and the others to get me, I do not doubt that, so I’ll see you soon.

I know the dangers of me being here, and I’m sorry I never told you about my history with my dad, but I’m sure Evie and Gil filled you in on it. I’m planning to stay out of sight and away from him and anyone who might tell him about me being here.

I promise when we are back in Auradon I’ll tell you everything about my life on the isle, you deserve to know.

I love you; I know I have never said that, but I’m sure of it now, and I wanted to say it just in case.

-Harry

You let out a low sob and collapsed against your desk, holding the now crumpled note against your chest “Harry” you chocked out, feeling droplets of tears hit your hand. “you stupid fucking idiot”

“I love you too”

-end of part 5-

Here it is! Part 5! I hope I made bens side of the argument…better while also still being like “yeah both are wrong both are right in it, but Mal was really having a hard time and ben needs to slow the fuck down” because MAL IS NOT READY FOR ANY OF THE DATING SHIT SHE IS DOING IN D2, COTILLION SHOULD HAVE WAITED FOR AT LEAST ONE YEAR INTO THEIR RELATIONSHIP NOT 6 MONTHS! Anyway, I also hope Mal and Harry's talk at the beginning was also…nice? That’s the best word I can think of right now but I hope im making Mal an actual likable character instead of….ya know *gestures to d2/3* that. Im trying to actually develop her d1 character into something more instead of just making a whole new one each “movie”

And yes, James is just as Bad in this as he was in the OG part of your world, and don’t worry, he does get his ass kicked by reader.

Thank you for reading!

permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @remembered-license​

@random-thoughts-003​ @verboetoperee​

@imtryingthisout​ @rintheemolion​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​

and now the rewrite taglist because im sorry i forgot about yall lol

@thesailbells​ @beccad10x​