#to a small child who had just regained her memories of her past life

[stillness-in-green]

Fanfiction Writer Bingo (+a silly poll)

Got tagged by @scumtrout, whose example I'm following in explicating a few squares, albeit with more shilling.

Talking Points:

Smut Content: For the most part, I virtually never get even as far as sexual content that would meet the bar for mature—two fics that depict sex acts without explicit details/body part terms. The only explicit sex scene I've ever written is still less than a third of the length of the fic as a whole, which I guess makes it only debatably smut. Is there a percentage you can exceed at which point the sex becomes part of the story rather than the story itself, or does any sufficiently explicit sex scene make the whole of the work smutty? Well, in any case, my writing is usually gen enough that the one story with the explicit sex scene the whole story is leading towards feels smutty by my standards.

Unbeta-d Fic Posting Crimes: I get extra pairs of eyes when I’m writing specifically gift fics, but otherwise I basically do all my own beta, which does mean I sometimes miss things.  That happens less if I take the time to paste a work into a different format or look at it on a different device—it’s true and good advice that doing that freshens up text to your brain!—but I’m just not hugely stressed about pruning out every single orphaned word or stray comma in writing I do for fun.

So Self-Indulgent: This will be more prominent if I ever do more with the ShigRD mermaid AU (which is, my god, so self-indulgent—mind control powers? 100% The Author’s Fetish), but the Gundam IBO Wedding Fic is pretty much twenty-two thousand words of me rolling around in post-series character dynamics and throwing worldbuilding absolutely everywhere I think it will stick.  I’ll also throw in a shout-out to the extreme silliness that was See the Blazing Sky Before Us, a Yuletide treat I wrote involving Doctor Doom, Gwen Stacy (Sorceress Supreme version), and Santa Claus, with the aim of replicating in prose the effect of reading one of those really over-the-top Jack Kirby comics from the 1970s.

Multi-Fandom Drifting: I have a very established pattern of fandom migration, so most of my fic writing is done in multi-year spans of same-fandom-ness.  That said, I certainly have written for more than one fandom in my life, particularly during the years I was doing Yuletide.

Research Before Riting: I often just bracket things off when I’m writing first drafts and do the deep research on the second pass, but there are also cases where the whole fic rests too much on research I need to do for me to even start drafting before I do the deep dive.  In either case, have a silly poll about it!

Deserves More Attention: I fear Moon Shot Aim is too spliced in with Overhaul/Nemoto to appeal to people who want more fic on Lady Nagant, and too Lady N-centric (as well as being a bit esoteric with its soulmate mechanic) for the people who want Overhaul/Nemoto, but I’m really quite happy with both ‘sides’ of the story, and wish it could get a bit more love.  Likewise, I wonder if all the OCs in the first chapter of The Way You Survive Is… scare people off of a story that is, in all of its subsequent chapters, much more focused on the canon characters.  Alas that my dedication to exploring the MLA as a group means I’m willing to make up a thousand MLA OCs before shoehorning in a canon character where I don’t think they fit!

Finally, have a few brief notes on two boxes I didn’t check—

1: Formatting my meta for posting is absolutely hellish, but I don’t typically do very complicated things with my fanfic.

2: While I did once want to be a professional writer, I fear it’s one of those ambitions that’s somewhat fallen by the wayside as I’ve gotten older.  Some of that is a matter of not having the energy/freedom to really focus on it in my financial situation, but it’s also the case that my two major original projects suffered from opposing problems—one was a story with a vastly underdeveloped world, and one was a rather nicely developing world with no specific story to happen in it!  But who knows; I do have periods of going back to dabbling with original projects, often in between my intense fandom periods, so maybe I’ll get something off the ground yet.

(Thank you for reading this silliness. Come back next week to finally talk BNHA's hospital attack.)

Tagging @codenamesazanka, @robotlesbianjavert, @leftofrevolution. @evilasiangenius and @megkips, if they would like to play. Here's the template!

[dewdropdinosaur]

The Reason You Loved Me Before

LUCIFER x MALE FALLEN ANGEL! READER

Summary: Lucifer had long forgotten you, at least that is what he told himself before he saw you again. Warnings: Lillith doesn't really exist in this Based on a few notes from @pixie-skull

Lucifer Morningstar, dressed in his signature tailored suit and with a swagger that announced his entrance before he even spoke, strolled through the grand lobby of the Hazbin Hotel. The less than opulent surroundings, though he meant no harm to the hand painted signs, were a sharp contrast to his dress.  He was here on a personal quest, driven by whispers of a past he hadn’t anticipated revisiting. Charlie, after the 456th hand scribbled invite, had just called her father and invited him to the Hotel; of which his depression quickly took note of and ceased to exist for those few moments. 

As he surveyed the hotel's decor with a mix of disdain and curiosity, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure near the bar—a handsome man holding a child’s hand. Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. The sight brought back memories of him and Charlie, but a twinge of something else. Approaching closer to the man, whose face was skewed from the way he was facing, Lucifer struggled to get a look he so desperately wanted. 

“Ahem. Hello there, my name is Lucifer. It’s a pleasure to meet another resident of my daughter’s hotel.” Lucifer extended his hand to the man who turned to face him. 

With wide eyes and jaw slack, Lucifer felt his knees almost buckle. It couldn’t be…no no…they ought still be in Heaven! 

“No need for the frilly introductions, Luci.” 

The years had not been kind to Y/N. His once-brilliant feathers were now a muted grey, and his celestial radiance had dimmed. Yet, his presence exuded a warmth that Lucifer recognized instantly. With a mix of trepidation and hope, Lucifer approached.

“Y/N” Lucifer said softly, his voice betraying a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “I never expected to see you here.”

The two old lovers stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared past hanging between them. It was Y/N who broke the silence, his voice trembling.

“Oh…I…how are—you?” Y/N ran a hand behind his head and chuckled awkwardly as Lucifer tried to regain his composure. 

“Well I—I am well. Just visited the gang you know! Umm..who’s this?”

“Hello mister Lucifer…my name is Matthew!”

Lucifer felt the earth shift beneath him. He approached the child, kneeling to meet the curious gaze of the small being eyes widened with recognition, a spark of something ancient and profound passing between them.

All Lucifer remembered was the fall, at least that's all he would choose to remember. The rest was too painful. The look of Y/N's tear-filled eyes as he descended down into the firey pit he had created, his hand stretched out as if he could hold their hand again. They had made love the night before, sweet and tender, a sinful bliss that neither had known till the other. All of it was over, at least Lucifer thought it was. His darling angel was still in heaven, not down here, and at least with a child.

“I didn’t know,” Lucifer said, his voice choked with emotion. “I never knew.”

Y/N’s  voice was barely a whisper. “After the Fall, I tried to hid Matthew from the celestial and infernal eyes that would have sought him out. I wanted him to have a chance to live in peace.”

Lucifer reached out and gently ruffled Matthew hair. The boy giggled, a sound that felt like a balm to Lucifer’s long-scarred heart.

“I thought you were lost to me,” Lucifer said, looking back at Y/Nl. “I thought that everything we had was gone.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. “I never stopped loving you, Lucifer. Even as I fell, even as I tried to rebuild my life, my heart remained yours.”

The distance of time and pain melted away in that moment. Lucifer took Y/N’s hands in his own, his touch tender and careful.

“Let’s not waste another moment,” Lucifer said softly. “We have your…our son. We have a chance to be a family, to be together.”

Y/N nodded slowly, tears streaming down his face. “Yes. We can make up for the lost years. But that'll take time, Luci. A lot of time." Y/N grabbed Matthew's hand and walked out of the lobby.

The reunion was bittersweet, a promise of new beginnings intertwined with the echoes of a turbulent past. As Lucifer, Y/N, and Matthew shared their first evening together, curtsey of Charlie putting a surprise dinner together, the Hazbin Hotel—known for its chaos and redemption—witnessed a tender moment of rekindled love. The hotel’s flamboyant lights and bizarre ambiance seemed to fade into insignificance as the three of them embraced, united by the unbreakable bonds of love that had endured across realms and time.

For Lucifer and Y/N, the past was no longer a prison but a bridge leading them back to each other. And in the heart of Hell, they found a small, flickering spark of Heaven that promised a future filled with hope and rediscovered love.

[zapreportsblog]

I'd love to see Carlisle mated to a patient he saved when she was just a child. Determined as she is she manages to track him down and has a picture of them when she was a child. Please and thank you!!

❝a blast from the past❞

✭ pairing :Carlisle Cullen x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) has been treated by Carlisle as a child and all these years later she still wanted to know who that man was, so like any other normal person she tracks him down with the help of the internet

✭ authors note : in my unpopular opinion I don’t really find this man all that attractive no more and I feel y’all hype him up for no reason :)

✭ twilight masterlist

The soft hum of the hospital's fluorescent lights filled the sterile hallway as Dr. Carlisle Hale moved briskly between patient rooms. A respected physician in the quaint town of Thornwood, he was known not only for his exceptional medical skills but also for his quiet, enigmatic demeanor. People whispered that he was too good to be true, an ethereal being walking among mortals.

It was a particularly busy afternoon, and Carlisle was engrossed in studying a patient's chart when a knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find the head nurse, Evelyn, standing there with a concerned expression.

"Dr. Hale, we have a new patient. She insists on seeing you. Her name is (Y/N)," Evelyn explained, her tone indicating that this patient was unlike any other they'd encountered.

"(Y/N)? I'm not familiar with that name," Carlisle replied, his brow furrowing. The name stirred no memories in him, and he prided himself on knowing every patient's history.

Evelyn handed him a folder containing the patient's information. As Carlisle read through the pages, his eyes widened in recognition. "(Y/N)… I can't believe it," he whispered to himself.

Flashbacks of a rainy night years ago flooded his mind. A car crash had left a young girl on the brink of death, her parents unable to survive the collision. Carlisle had been the doctor on call that night, and he had fought relentlessly to save the child's life. He could never forget the gratitude in her eyes as she regained consciousness.

With newfound determination, (Y/N) had tackled her recovery head-on, defying all odds. But as time passed, her memories of that night faded, leaving only fragments of a faceless savior.

Carlisle took a deep breath, still processing the fact that the very same patient he had saved was now standing at the threshold of his life once more.

"Send her in, Evelyn," he instructed, his voice betraying a mixture of emotions.

The door creaked open, revealing a grown woman with determination in her eyes. Her gaze met Carlisle's, and time seemed to stand still. Recognition sparked in her eyes, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"Dr. Cullen ," she breathed, her voice barely audible.

"(Y/N)," Carlisle replied, his voice tinged with both surprise and joy. He rose from his seat and approached her, a mixture of feelings swirling within him.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she held out a photograph, worn at the edges from years of handling. Carlisle took the photo, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized the little girl he had saved all those years ago, her smile wide and innocent.

"I never forgot," (Y/N) whispered, her voice breaking. "You saved my life, and I've been searching for you ever since."

Carlisle's eyes met hers, a connection forming between them that transcended time. The unspoken bond they had forged on that fateful night had endured, and now destiny had brought them back together.

As the weight of their shared history settled upon them, Carlisle realized that his world was about to change in ways he couldn't imagine. The girl he had saved had grown into a woman of strength and determination, and their paths were destined to intertwine once more.

"(Y/N)," Carlisle repeated, his voice soft but filled with emotion. He gazed at the photograph, feeling the weight of the years that had passed since that rainy night.

Her eyes never left his face, searching for recognition and finding it in the depths of his gaze. "(Y/N)," he continued, his voice taking on a warm, nostalgic tone. "I remember you. You were so brave."

Tears welled in her eyes, and a relieved smile curved her lips. "I knew I had to find you, Dr. Cullen. I had to thank you properly."

He shook his head gently, a touch of humility in his eyes. "It was my duty, and I'm glad I could help."

As they stood there, a sense of connection formed between them that defied explanation. It was as if the threads of fate had woven their lives together, only to reunite them at this very moment.

"(Y/N)," he said her name once more, savoring the sound of it on his lips. "You've grown into a remarkable woman."

Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of gratitude and shyness. "It's thanks to you, Dr. Cullen. You gave me a chance at life."

Carlisle's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as he looked at the woman before him. The photograph in his hand captured the essence of the girl he had saved, and now he was face to face with the embodiment of her strength and resilience.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, the weight of what he was about to say settling upon him. "There's something you should know. What happened that night… It was more than just chance. It was fate."

Her eyes widened with curiosity and a touch of uncertainty. "Fate? What do you mean?"

Carlisle hesitated, searching for the right words. "I… I'm not just a doctor. I'm different, (Y/N). I have abilities that go beyond what you might expect."

She regarded him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "Abilities? What kind of abilities?"

Taking a deep breath, Carlisle chose his words carefully. "I'm not like ordinary humans. I have gifts that allow me to do things that others can't. And that night, when I saved you, something extraordinary happened."

"(Y/N)" leaned in closer, captivated by his words. "What happened?"

"I… I don't fully understand it myself," Carlisle admitted. "But our connection, the bond that formed between us that night, it's not something that happens every day. It's a rare and profound occurrence."

Her eyes searched his, a mix of wonder and disbelief in her gaze. "Are you saying that we're connected in some special way?"

He nodded, his expression serious yet sincere. "Yes, (Y/N). I believe that our lives are intertwined by something greater than ourselves. And now that you're here, I can't ignore the significance of this moment."

A mixture of emotions played across her features—astonishment, curiosity, and a spark of something more. "(Y/N)" stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Dr. Cullen, if there's more to our connection, then I want to understand it. I want to know the truth."

Carlisle's heart swelled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness. Here was the young girl he had saved, now a woman standing before him, ready to embrace the mysteries of their shared history.

"As we navigate this journey together, (Y/N)," he said gently, "I promise to reveal all that I can. But know that there's more to discover, more to our story than what meets the eye."

She nodded, determination in her eyes. "Then I'm ready to uncover the truth, Dr. Cullen."

And so, as the bonds of fate drew them closer, Carlisle and (Y/N) embarked on a journey that would unravel the mysteries of their connection, and lead them down a path neither could have foreseen.

[riverofjazzsims]

Dejavu for @novapark Izan's ISBIBC

Dejavu Hypnos

26

Environmentalist

Strangerville

Straight

Traits: Freegan, Erratic, Cheerful, Music Lover, Family Oriented

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Born and raised in Strangerville. Deja met, married, and became the mother to "Love of her life" child 8 years ago. Two years later, she was a single mother heading to court to file for divorce. Deja High School sweetheart enlisted in the military, 10 mths after reporting for extra assignments on base, Deja started noticing small changes with her husband. Those small changes became more and more until 1 month from their daughters 2nd birthday when he woke up and had no memory of his and Deja relationship past being high school classmates, meaning no memory of time dating, marrying or that he was a father to a small child. The more they attempted to help regain his memory, the more withdrawn and sometimes violent he became.

Dating as a single parent, especially one in a small town, is hard. Dating and you're the former wife of the towns infamous solider who now more often than not is known as Nervous Subject, is even harder.

Deja just wants the chance to love again and be able to share her life with someone willing to not only look past the rumor mill. small town chatter but also accepts she is a package deal with her sweet daughter, Lullaby.

PRIVATE DOWNLOAD

[altheneum-library]

||°~ "Are you lost?" ~°||

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

Lambert's POV:

After Y/N and The One Who Waits reunited together, I had questioned them what their relationship was like with him. Their reply to me was quite interesting as I had assumed they were dad and child at first...some may know it sounds weird but have I even heard an older sibling call their younger sibling 'their young' before? 

and yet...

their relationship... it brought me some memories of my past that I wish to forget, yet I cherish them more than I could imagine. I can never lose such memories of my mother...her smile, her warmth, her cooking...her hugs and lullabies.... ...her voice...

tears stung my eyes as I blinked..I think twice before starting to hurriedly wipe them away as to try and not let anyone notice, I looked around a bit, when I saw nobody noticing at all, I took a sigh of relief. 

I then took a glance up and saw that Y/N was talking with Ratau, seeming like they had asked him a question beforehand because I saw him nodding and heard him agreeing with teaching me something. They both looked at me, I was a bit surprised at first but regained my composure quickly. 

Y/N approached me and put a paw on my shoulder, opening their mouth. "little lamb, I am afraid this is where I take my leave for now. I know I promised to help make a cult with you but I also have my own people to attend to.."  I was shocked to hear those words come out from such a sweet melody of a voice, it brought me sadness and a slight tint of fear in my heart but then, as if they knew how I felt they started speaking once more.

"I know this must be very surprising but I also know that you would do just great under Ratau's guidance. know that if anything happens, my staff shall cast it's protection upon you. I entrust that you are worthy enough to complete my quest of reuniting my family together, bishop or not.." with a smile of determination on my face and an adventurous mind set in my head, I nodded with firminity before looking at Ratau. he can only smile and nod to me, seemingly happy to teach me how to make a cult. though, looking at the crown. TOWW doesn't seem too happy on Y/N leaving, aaawwww he's clingyy..~! how cute~! 

.

.

.

.

.

Y/N had led me and Ratau back to the chambers, walking to their realm's gate. they faced towards us and waved goodbye as we bid our farewells to them as well before they left.

I turned to Ratau as he took a deep breath and looked around a bit, seemingly as if he was trying to hear out for something. I was confused to what he was doing and was about to ask but he raised his paw up, pointer raised as if to quieten me. rude but-

"I have come to the realization that Y/N may have...unintentionally left us deep in the lands of the Old Faith and in grave danger as well... My instructions are to lead you to safety as requested by the bishop of life. let us continue through the woods as escape lies ahead. I will be close by." he told me before relaxing his posture, I was quite shocked to see that he can hear the dangers of the woods but then again, he's probably lived nearby for...great gods know how long- he probably has some experience hearing the creatures and fighting off many of them before, not a big surprised really..

We both prepared ourselves and walked to where safety should be. 

.

..

...

....

.....

......

.......

.........

...........

Okay- not going to lie- it's already been five minutes of walking and it already feels like we've been walking for HOURS- geez when are we gonna reach there!? and Ratau is just rambling over knucklebones and how the card game works, I just listened ad would usually respond. I am interested sure but it's not like I'm gonna play the game much anyways..

after a bit, I start to space out and then, it all went blurred as I remember a small, faint but wonderful memory..

~~ A MEMORY COMES BY... ~~

"Mother! Mother! look what I've brought!" I yelled out to my mother as I ran up to her, a bouquet of camelias in my arms. she looked at me and smiled softly before kneeling down.  "aw, how sweet of you, my little lambert! they look so beautiful...may you put them in the vase so we may bring them to your father today?" she says as I nodded, my ears wiggling and my tail waggling I went and carefully put the camelias in the white vase we always put new flowers in for my father. 

You see, my father died when I was born, so I never really knew him much and neither did I ever knew how much grief it affected mother but what I did know was that I was always so envious of others who had fathers, such as my friends for example. I always longed for a father, or a father figure at least. then maybe I wouldn't be such a mama's boy my whole life.

when my mother had finished our laundry, we both went to father's grave and kneeled down. my mother started to set the vase down, adjusting the camelias. she then started up a conversation with my late father, as a child I never quite got why she was talking to someone who was already dead though as time past each day, I grew to understand that it was a part of grief to try and reassure yourself that they'd hear you. maybe not physically but spiritually. after we prayed to The Old Faith's Bishops, we both stood up and went on our merry way to the village.

the memory was blurry, but I remembered flowers decorating every part of the village I lived in, petals fell from the roof tops from the flower girls and bloom boys making it seem like the sky rained of beautiful rain drops of flora. the sky was a beautiful blue, maybe mixed with a bit of teal..? I don't remember much of what happened nor my surroundings from that day.

~~ ...THEN THE MEMORY GOES, AS ALWAYS ~~

after my memory fades away, I looked at my surroundings, a clearing in a forest. with abundance of flowers and fauna, a river nearby that runs smoothly and the waters were as clear as a mirror. I can see the little swimming school of fish. Ratau took a good look around and sighed of relief. "this is a good place to build your cult, I sense this place belongs to Bishop Y/N, makes sense from the huge amount of forget-me-not flowers here. I heard they loved these." he said to me.

forget-me-nots, huh? interesting!

it had been a bit of looking around peacefully and planning of where to put almost everything in the area with Ratau, I didn't really take track of the time before hearing a cry from help from somewhere. I was alerted and frantically looked around, eyes widening is surprise and readying the staff. 

Ratau readies his own staff before we both heard the cry from earlier, we ran to the source and were just in time to save an innocent soul about to be sacrificed to one of the bishops'. the staff I held was quickly fused with some sort of black substance, my head felt a bit light, confused I looked at the staff.  the wood was now as black as the night sky and there was an eye by the middle, it stared at me expectantly, it seems TOWW is expecting me to use his powers along with Y/N's.

I huffed and went into a stance, seeing that Ratau was busy with the left, I got started to beating the guys on the right.  it was a small fight but it did get a bit out of me, the black substance becomes a crown once more and the staff's wood, back to normal brown color.

I sighed as I see the innocent animal, kneeling down on the ground, I approached and offered a hand before offering them a home in my cult under the two bishops' names. they pondered for a moment before smiling and nodding, I looked up at Ratau for approval. he nodded as well.

"Now, you can teleport them to the indoctrine altar, we shall follow suit." he says.

all I did was give a smile and a small huff before dusting some of the dirt off my fleece as Ratau and I went on our way 

[upsidedior]

Excerpt from an old fic...

He was sitting on the Marina barge looking out onto the water. His feet were dangling off the edge, the ocean's current gently moving his legs. The tide was low at this hour, his eyes caught the sight of the surrounding boats bobbing from the low current. The sun was past the mid afternoon hour falling towards the late afternoon. His eyes skimmed the ocean's horizon; she would be coming in soon.

It had been a few months since the dream incident, the same dream that troubled him during his sleepless nights. Images flashed in his mind; a distant place in another time, a grand architectural palace along the rocky shoreline, a magnificent arena housing games, a temple housing statues of gods and heroes. He could still smell the salty air. Another flashed of a female child running through gardens, a stunning woman with soft brown eyes staring at him from her seat on the fountain, the same woman turning towards him in the forest's river, her nude form glistening in the moonlight… More and more of that same woman flashed through his memory making his heart race; she captivated him. His mind was unlocking more and more of the dream as the days passed, to which he attributed to Jenni's hand. Her memory had been unlocking as well; there were days where she was happy to see him and others where he was not sure if he himself did something, or his dream self was to blame…

Her boat was sailing into the Marina, Gantu could smell the lavender traveling through the island's wind. The vessel, obviously a small charter with odd earth science equipment, was built with two decks. Up at the top he could see the Professor who Jenni raved about steering the boat and other earthlings tending to the lower deck. And there she was, right at the bow on the starboard side wearing her dark purple diving suit, sitting while the wind whipped through her tied up hair. If he remembered correctly, she called it a horse's tail…

"'Oi! Mr. Gantoo!" He heard the Professor call out to him from the Captain's deck as the charter boat cruised into its spot in the Marina. He was a thin man with a balding head, glasses, and wearing his signature Hawaiian shirt and shorts with sandals. The big alien always shook his head whenever he met this man; he was one odd earthling. Brilliant, but odd.

"It's Gantu, Dr. Buffett." The big alien waved back seeing the other earthlings scrambling on deck to secure the ship in its 'parking spot.' Jenni was one of those earthlings.

"Oi, you were right about that humpback pod that keeps reappearing around the island." Dr. Buffett had made his way from the boat onto the Marina barge where Gantu was sitting. There was a big smile on his face. "That cove is a nursery. I've never seen so many calves before in my life! The mothers dive in open waters as the calves stay protected in the cove. You Samoans know your whales." He heard the Professor laugh, to which he joined lightly.

"It's a gift." Gantu caught a purple figure shaking her head.

"It's a gift alright, Big G." He heard her voice jest as Jenni made her way over to them. She was tugging at the back of her dark purple wetsuit, and retying her long brown hair into sleek pony tail. "There must've been 6 calves with their mothers patrolling the cove's coast. And they sing, all of them sing to each other. Truly incredible." She stared up at him flashing a smile. "Thanks again for the tip. What brings you down to the Marina, Sharkman?" By the way she smiled at him, Gantu felt his snout become hot.

"Oh, I'd-I was in the neighborhood." He was able to fumble out before regaining his composure. "I took today off from my work and… and thought I would enjoy the sights…" Gantu sighed, his mouth lying for him when his mind knew the real reason he was there. He just did not want to admit it.

"Being called again, huh?" He watched the Human female stare at him inquisitively, her brown eyes darting around his being. He felt the sigh escape him.

"Yes, but the headache that usually comes after I find my way to this Ocean was shorter this time."

"And it's all instinctive," Gantu could hear the curiosity in her voice. "Without even knowing it, you walk yourself to the Ocean every time you leave your space—apartment…" He shot her a dark look as Jenni made a quick cover up; the color in her cheeks vanished as there was a pause between all three of them. He was grateful when it seemed Professor Buffett did not take notice to Jenni's slip up. That was all he needed; that wacky professor questioning him more.

"Sounds to me like you are suffering from one serious condition, Mr. Gantu." The Sharkman turned his attention to the Professor, watching the thin man hop aboard the research boat and rummage around.

"What is that, exactly?" He was beginning to feel a cold sweat start. What was this earthling searching for? And what serious condition did he have?

"Seems to me, Mr. Gantu, you are suffering from what is known as the Sailor's Call." Gantu continued to listen as the odd Human pulled up a red cooler rummaging inside it. "You see, the Ocean is a siren. She is the great Temptress which calls to all men, the great Mermaid who sings her songs of life and freedom and adventure, and of course, the great Life Giver of food and balance. And just as the Ocean Goddess sings her songs for all to hear, we mortal men heed her call and follow. Every man has heard the Sailor's Call, following blindly into uncharted waters in hopes of pleasing the great Goddess, and fearing her wrath. We all hear her song, Mr. Gantu. You have heard her before." Dr. Buffett was giving him a knowing glance which almost made Gantu break out in a cold sweat. His mind flashed to when he was younger in his academy days; he just had his first taste of the new battle starship, Triple V Class, in the Horsehead Nebula. He remembered the sight outside the panoramic viewport; a vast scene of a black ocean shimmering with stars and colorful gases engulfing him. Memories of the excitement he felt, the adrenaline rush as he piloted through the uncharted space, the awareness of himself in the peaceful emptiness of star clusters… the ass kicking he got from his Commander for going off course… It was so worth it.

"Siren, Temptress, Mermaid, Goddess, whatever fellow sailors like ourselves call her," Dr. Buffett continued slicing a small green fruit and placing its juices inside a light amber colored liquid bottle. "We all listen to her enchanting melodies carried by the wind and venture out seeking the riches and legends her tales weave. We watch the horizon, waiting patiently for her to appear. And when she does, Mr. Gantu, that's when we know we have finally met our first great love." The Sharkman watched the green lime fruit float inside the clear glass bottle which was handed to him by the Professor. The Human's words swum around Gantu's head the more he let his mind go. His eyes fell onto the small figure standing next to him; She appeared to be staring at Dr. Buffett as he continued to talk, her warm brown eyes watching him intensely. She was transfixed in thought to his words, and Gantu could not help himself but become lost in his own mind. His eyes found themselves following the curves of her face, the sunlight illuminating her long brown hair, her island kissed skin, her intoxicating lavender scent filling his lungs… following the curves of her… bottom…

Gantu shook his head, trying to erase the thought from his mind. Blood rushing to his snout, Gantu could not believe his mind dared to think those thoughts of the Human. Blitznak, oh double, triple Blitznak! What was wrong with him? Thoughts like these had not entered his mind since… well a long time ago. This was Jenni, the little earth punk; she was just a human he had somewhat befriended on his stay of this pitiful island. She was a native of this planet. He was just a visitor from another world… not belonging to this small, primitive planet. She was a primitive Human. He was an Aquarian, member of a proud ancient race. She was on the opposite side anyway, on that little earth girl's side fighting against Hamsterviel's grasp on the experiments… on that blasted 626's side… And He, Gantu… was on the other side.

"Sharkman?" The sound of her soft feminine voice reached his ears. Gantu brought his attention to the earthling watching him with cautious eyes.

"Hmm?" Gantu caught Jenni raising her eyebrow at him and shot him a dirty look. Whenever she was annoyed or pissed at him, that puny earthling always gave him that look…

"You alright there, Gantu?" A small coy smile spread on Jenni's lips as Gantu gave her a look over. "Dr. Buffett asked if you're nursing your Corona." She gave a playful light laugh as Gantu felt his thoughts swirl around in his head. He made a quick glance down at the bottle in his hand. The thick smell reached his nose; Beer. This was something else he came to the realization of both other worldly travelers like himself and Humans shared in common. Beer. The big alien brought the tiny bottle to his mouth and let the small amount of liquid fall onto his tongue. It barely wet half his tongue. Oh well, Gantu placed the bottle on the barge, he had beer his size back on his ship…

"Nursing it, punk." He flashed a toothy smile down at Jenni, watching her reaction of sticking her tongue out at him.

"You two remind me of myself and my wife." Dr. Buffett laughed opening another beer bottle and handing it to Gantu. "When I first met my wife, she and I were competing for a job as lead marine biologist for a local research vessel. It started out as friendly competition, and then escalated to a rivalry to the point we were almost throwing each other overboard. It wasn't until she actually fell overboard and I fished her out that I really began to admire her determination, and well, her beauty. I began searching for another position in the company, and asked her out to dinner. The rest, as they say, is history."

It was then that he heard Jenni laugh. It was not her normal laugh he was used to, but she was laughing nonetheless. He thought there was a bright red flush on her cheeks, just under her sun kissed skin…

"Sounds like your mate is a very lucky woman, Dr. Buffett," Gantu tried to deflect his own unease at the human's comment, noticing Jenni's sudden relaxed composure. But a tiny voice inside him knew that was a load of blitz… In the pit of his stomach, he could feel that light fluttery sensation growing—He needed to push that away.

"More like I am a lucky man, my friend." Dr. Buffett began to sip his beer. "Just wait till you find that woman who makes you happy, angry, light-hearted, frustrated, nervous and horny all at the same time." The Professor laughed at the end till Gantu could not help but laugh himself at the hilarity of his statement. Odd Human indeed. Right, but odd.

"I'll take your word on that, Doc." The Sharkman brought the drop of beer to his tongue, and took notice to the sudden disappearance of the lavender scent. Red-faced and looking bothered, Jenni had moved onto the boat grabbing her duffle bag. Gantu could see her fluster.

"You guys are ridiculous." She hopped off the ship giving both men one last look over. "I gotta get back to the lab with our samples, Professor, who knows how long you'll have me there for."

"Just the basics for tonight, Jen," Dr. Buffett gave her a light wave. "I'm shutting lab down early tonight, it's Friday night." Gantu watched the smile grow on the Professor's face. "Me and the Mrs are having a party." To this the big Alien felt himself smile.

"It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?" He was surprised by the reaction he got from the Odd Human.

"It's 5 o'clock now, time to party!" Gantu watched the Professor do some sort of odd jig to which the alien was not sure he wanted to be seen with the man…

"I'm heading out, boys, some of us have work to do~!" Jenni's voice reached his ears as he saw her waving up to him. "See you around, Sharkman." The fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach was rising again; Gantu gave a small smile waving back watching her make her way out of the marina.

"S-see you around, earth punk…" His eyes never stopped following her until Jenni got into her black jeep and drove off, disappearing onto the main road. He did not notice the Professor had been watching him until he turned back towards the Marina's seaside front. The odd human happened to be rubbing his chin raising an eyebrow.

"Interesting…" Gantu felt a shot of unease erupt from his stomach, it was enough to make cold sweat form on his brow.

"What's interesting, Doc?" Gantu felt his deep voice soften from his natural bass tone. Oh Blitznak…

"Just an observation." Before Gantu's mind could form an explanation, Dr. Buffett was reaching deep into his pockets pulling out a circular object. It was small, black, with many numbers around the circumference and a red needle pointing out towards the sea. He recognized it immediately. "Here, a little gift from me to you." Dr. Buffett had his arm outstretched towards him with the small compass in his hand. As gently as he could, the Sharkman picked it up with his large fingers bringing it up to his gaze. "It's my thanks to you for your help with our research. And something my old man taught me." Gantu took notice to the seriousness of the Professor's demeanor, listening to his every word.

"There are moments in our lives where we loose ourselves; and when we are lost and in our darkest hour, it only takes one thing," Dr. Buffett paused his eyes connecting with Gantu's. "One thing to hold on to as we make the journey home. All you have to do is take that step forward to find your reason for traveling home." The Professor had hopped out of the charter vessel onto the dock with the rest of his belongings. He started making his way past a quiet Alien, when he turned to look at the Sharkman one more time.

"Be careful with her, she's very precious to me." Gantu felt his eyes widen almost feeling embarrassed about the speech he was given.

"Of course, Professor." He tried to flash a nervous smile. "Thank you… for the gift." With a sly smirk, the brilliantly odd human Professor shook his head and said the statement which made Gantu's heart skip a beat.

"I wasn't talking about the compass, Mr. Gantu. Have a good night."

[kurt-wagner-official]

Post #54: UXM issues 189-191

This issue focuses on Rachel, who's out on the town with Amara. We get some backstory as she gazes out on New York and thinks about her version of the city. She was kidnapped by the government as a small child and brainwashed to be a hound, a telepath forced to track down other mutants for imprisonment and slaughter. We only get a brief look at this part of her life, but it's clear how much the grief and guilt still affects her. Ororo is saying her goodbyes to the team as she prepares to take a leave of absence. She no longer feels like she has a place with the X-Men, and she's going home to Africa for a while to reconnect with her roots. In the city, Jamie Rodriguez, the dock worker who found that necklace last issue, tries to resist it's offer of power in exchange for his soul. Rachel and Amara go shopping and to the Metropolitan Art Museum, where Rachel picks up Selene's psychic signature. Both wanting revenge, they track her to the Hellfire Club. Neither of them realize what the building is as they sneak inside and disguise themselves as maids. Because the Hellfire Club is full of creeps, the maid uniforms include collars, which freaks Rachel out and reminds her of her hound uniform. But she pushes past it to try and find Selene. This issue actually takes place between the two Selene scenes in that last New Mutants arc, just to make the timeline more confusing, so here we see Selene and Shaw's first meeting. To prove she's deserving of membership, she captures Rachel and Amara when they attack her and enslaves them as a gift for Shaw. Really Selene wants Rachel under her control due to her powers, and is using her as a pawn in her long game to take over the Club. Shaw knows it, but he thinks he can out manipulate her and accepts at the urging of his assistant Tessa. Fun fact about Tessa, 20 years from now Claremont reveals she's been Xavier's spy from the beginning. I doubt he had that in mind at this point, but it does add yet another layer to the hidden agenda conspiracy in this room. Rachel regains conscious thought but not control over her body, and is terrified that this was all a hallucination and she's still a hound. But she regains her grip on reality and refuses to live as a slave again, so she mindlinks with Amara and frees her from Selene's control, allowing her to physically free them both. It's an important moment for Rachel that reminds her that despite everything she's been forced to do, her powers can still free mutants and not just hurt them. The earthquakes of the battle alert Xavier, who sends the X-Men, and they manage to take out Selene and call a truce with Shaw. I feel like Amara's reunion with Selene and her desire to kill her before being stopped by Xavier should have occured in the New Mutants. I love seeing mini crossovers to have the different characters interact, but their big personal story beats should be contained to one series or the other. Anyway, this was a pretty good issue, and a good exploration of Rachel's character outside her relationships with the other X-Men. The cliffhanger sees Jamie Rodriguez stabbed by a mugger who steals the necklace which then activates and releases the evil sorcerer Kulan Gath, an ancient enemy of Conan and a modern enemy of Spider-Man.

As explained in an info dump by Valerie Cooper at a defense department meeting, Kulan Gath has transformed Manhattan into a fantasy land. The people are still themselves, and have the same relationships and emotions and stuff, but their memories have be reworked to fit in with this world. The Morlocks have become slaves of Kulan Gath and his enforcers, used on anyone who displeases him and bringing him children that he sacrifices for his spells. Valerie says the X-Men may be their only hope, which starts an argument about mutants. One general who fought in World War II and liberated concentration camps is disgusted by his colleagues, who want to start a mutant holocaust. Although Valerie has no empathy for mutants, she's a pragmatist, and says they need to give these mutants a chance and hope they decide to save the humans. Ororo's boat was caught in the spell bubble, and Callisto, Captain of the guard, arrives to arrest her on the orders of Gath. When Ororo resists, she's happy to attack, hoping for revenge, but Ororo takes her out. She has a chance to kill her unconscious foe, but chooses mercy. In the battle, she and Callisto fall off the boat and are swept out of the Manhatten bubble by the current, lifting the spell on them and restoring Ororo's true memories.  Gath, meanwhile, has merged Caliban and Xavier into the ultimate tracker, which he's using to find anyone who may pose a threat. He's also taken Doctor Strange prisoner and has been torturing him. He leaves to be presented with his latest slaves, the New Mutants. Warlock is unaffected by the spells. and tries to free his friends, but Gath takes control of them and forces them to attack Warlock, who flees in shame. Elsewhere, Rachel and Amara are confronted by some guards but saved and enslaved by Selene, who's unaffected. Outside Manhatten, Callisto hates owing her life to Ororo, but hates Gath more for mentally enslaving her. She's also upset that Ororo lost her powers, both because she wanted to battle her again mutant to mutant and more importantly because as a fellow Morlock, she wants to protect her own even when she hates them. She offers to kill Forge when Selene contacts them and asks for help defeating Gath. They make their way back to Manhattan, reflecting on the tragedy that they couldn't have met as friends, and go back through the portal, transformed again but this time with a psychic implant from Selene that'll help them fight Gath's enslavement spells and find her. Meanwhile, Spider-Man, who for some reason is the only person unaffected by the spell, is being hunted by the New Mutants. The chase leads to bar, where they catch him and see another of Gath's targets, Illyana. The try to arrest her, but the Avengers, Kurt, and Anna stand in their way. Sunder and Peter, another of Gath's slaves, arrive to back up the New Mutants and a fight breaks out. Illyana's soulsword frees Peter from Gath's control, and when Selene and her allies arrive, the New Mutants flee with Spidey as their prisoner. Gath teleports in, grabs Selene, tells everyone they can either come serve him or die, and vanishes. The heroes go to the Morlocks tunnels, which can't be breached by telepathy, and plan to save their city.

Gath tortures Spidey, who stopped his last attempt at ascension, and Selene, who's an old enemy. He sends the New Mutants, along with Vision and the Scarlett Witch, to kill the heroes. In the battle, Anna and Sam are killed, and Starfox and Wasp of the Avengers are captured. Warlock shows up and saves Ororo while the others flee back into the tunnels. They're attacked by the New Mutants and Sunder. Callisto is forced to kill her friend, and promises to avenge him, while Illyana frees the other New Mutants from Gath's controlling spells. Meanwhile, Warlock is unable to talk to Ororo, since Gath's spells made everyone not speak English anymore, but he shows her images of her old self that jog her memory and make her realize the truth of this world. The two of them go to Gath's castle and arrive at the same time as the heroes, who are there to save Selene. They're overpowered by Gath and his minions, but Ororo, able to fly again with Warlock as a jetpack, steals his amulet, his source of power. But it's stolen from her by Amara, and we learn that Selene and Amara switched places before "Selene" was captured. This has been her plan all along, to take control of the spell and make this world hers, and she kills Gath and Warlock. In his dying moments, Warlock infects Ororo with his techno-organic virus, turning her into a being like him, and she infects Selene and drains her lifeforce. This ends the slaver spells, including the one on Doctor Strange, but not the transformation of Manhattan. Strange can't destroy such a powerful spell, but by using Illyana's unhoned time travel powers as a conduit, he turns back time to the moment before Gath was released. In this timeline, he won't be released from his amulet, but a consequence of Strange's spell is that he doesn't know what event will happen in this new timeline that prevents the release. We learn that due to how much wonky time travel has been happening recently, the event is the sudden appearance of Nimrod, a strange sentinel from the Days of Future Past timeline who kills the mugger that killed Jamie Rodriguez and became Gath's host. Claremont packed a lot of action and guest stars into these two issues, but the pacing is actually pretty great. I would have liked to see the story lean more into the alternate version of the characters. I really liked Kurt, who was a sword wielding swashbuckler, and Anna, who had super durable green crystal skin granting invulnerability instead of Carol powers. But everyone else just got a change of clothes. Also, despite how fun it is to see the New Mutants and Avengers having big roles and interactions with the X-Men, the actual story is just not as good as a lot of what's been in the book recently. Maybe he's cooler in Conan books where he has history with the characters, but in this story Kulan Gath is just not that interesting. With all the tragedy and serious drama in the book lately, this could have been a great opportunity for a brief change of pace with a wacky and exciting crossover, but Claremont tries to be just as dark and dramatic as in the surrounding arcs, which weakens the aspects that could have made it stand out. And because there's so much going on, that darkness and drama is also a lot weaker than in recent issues which had a close focus on a smaller group. It's one of Claremont's weaker arcs, but like always there's some good stuff too.

[bookish-whore]

Night Terrors

Azriel x Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: depictions of child abuse, discussions of past trauma, unintentional injury, some steamy behavior, fluff

A/N: Based on this request! Thanks for the idea, I absolutely loved writing this and it gave me ACOMAF vibes and made me want to move up my series re-read. If you’ve sent a request just know it is on my radar and as always, my requests are open <3

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It had been weeks since the bond snapped into place. It had happened in training of all places.

Azriel had me pinned under him, demonstrating a holding maneuver for the new Valkyries when I felt it a tug in my chest and this radiant string seemed to appear tethering me to the shadowsinger. My heart felt like it leapt out of my chest, like my soul had found its equal, this calming sense that I was home washed over me.

But when I looked into those glorious hazel eyes, I realized he didn’t feel it. I quickly regained my composure, returning my attention to training and tried to ignore the pain in my chest.

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It had been sporadic at first, happening once, then once a fortnight, then once a week, until it became a nightly occurrence. I would get these random images of people, places, and flashes of conversations and in the weeks since the bond snapped, I had been regularly woken up by these dreams, or night terrors rather, the strange images like I was watching a film of someone else’s life. Only I knew that these were unintentional, slipping through my one-sided connection with the Shadowsinger.

Feyre had told me that when emotions were running high the mating bond would project what was happening to the other even if the bond hadn’t snapped for one of the partners. She told me how before she knew Rhys was her mate, she would have what she thought were dreams when Rhys was forced to pleasure Amarantha under the mountain. She didn’t realize until later that the dreams were real and had happened. I assumed that because the dreams seemed to be more like memories that Azriel simply couldn’t control his emotions and they bled through the bond into me.

But tonight seemed different. As I drifted deeper into sleep, A dark room materialized. I recognized is as the dark cell where so many horrible things had taken place, and my heart ached for the child that I knew endured them. The child who only wanted to be loved and instead was treated as no more than a pet, an inconvenience. The child who was tortured for years, the child that grew up to be my mate. The events began to play, and all I could do was watch,

I felt trapped, the panic slowly rising as I looked around. Everywhere I looked it was dark the only light being what seeped under the door at the top of the stairs. I saw the boy curled in the corner, shackles on his wrists. Dressed only in pants that were clearly much too big for his tiny frame. My heart cracked further in my chest; he was so small. The skin on his body clinging to his ribs, a clear sign he had been malnourished for years. His delicate wings sagging behind him without the muscle or training to keep them upright. I suddenly heard laughter, as the cell door opened. Young Az put his arm up as he recoiled from the brightness that flooded in. two older boys entered the cell and a thrum of panic went through the bond. “wh-what are you doing in here?” Younger Azriel said, his little voice shaky but firm “Just some research, half-breed” one of the boys sneered These must be his stepbrothers, I realized as the two boys moved closer. “Yeah, we learned in school that Illyrians have superior healing capabilities, since you are one of them, we wanted to try something out” the two shared a look and laughed. Before Azriel could react one of them grabbed the shackles, pulling him to the ground with his arms outstretched. His wings flopped on top of him as he couldn’t control them. I felt sick, I wanted to scream. One of the boys put his foot into Azriel’s back holding him in place, while the other produced a canteen and poured a foreign liquid on Azriel’s hands, I could smell what it was from my position. Oil. They laughed. One of them striking a match and holding it up, Azriel’s delicate features went white at the realization of what they were doing. What they had planned. “NO! PLEASE…HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE” Azriel screamed, trying to wriggle away. The foot in his back applied more pressure keeping him steady. The boy dropped the match. And the room lit up. I would never forget the screams, how Azriel’s little body writhed in pain as his hands were set on fire. I could smell the burning flesh, see the way his hands practically melted as he screamed in pain.

I shot up in bed. taking deep gasping breaths, I looked down to find my nightgown clinging tightly to my sweaty body as I threw the sheets off me. I stood pacing the room as I attempted to steady my breathing but no matter what I tried I couldn’t shake the fear, the panic, the terror, and the pain. It was like I was still trapped in the nightmare.

Suddenly dark shadows seeped under my door making their way across the room until they were swirling frantically around me, tugging on my hands in an attempt to lead me somewhere. I hastily threw on a pair of slippers that were on the floor next to my bed and let them lead me out of my room and down the hall. It took me a moment to realize the shadows were leading me to Azriel’s bedroom.

When I reached his door, I didn’t bother knocking. My hand slowly turning the ornate knob before softly stepping into the room closing the door behind me as I turned to face him. my mate.

The room was cast in soft moonlight that was streaming through the window. The light reflected off his body, which was covered in a thin sheen of sweat his brows furrowed in distress as he twisted fitfully in his sleep. I noticed then his hands, his white knuckles indication that he was tightly fisting the sheets. The tear tracks on his cheeks a clear sign that he was in distress. I made my way to the side of the bed hesitantly placing my hand to his forehead, he was so warm, like he was burning up at the memory of what had been done to him. as if his body couldn’t tell that he was having a nightmare and he wasn’t really in danger.

“Azriel” I whispered; my voice shaking as I placed my hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him. He was unresponsive, his face contorting as though he was in pain.

“Az, its just a nightmare” I said shaking him again

“Wake up Az” I repeated

He let out a bloodcurdling scream and bolted upright. I barely registered what happened next.

His hands grabbed me, flipping me onto the bed beside him, my back pressed into the soft mattress as his knees rested on either side of me restricting my movement. His body towered over me as he held truth teller to my throat, the sharp edge biting into the soft flesh on my neck.

“Az it’s okay, its me!” I screamed, feeling the small trickle of blood as truth teller nicked my skin.

His hazel eyes went wide with recognition as he withdrew the knife “y/n?”

He practically leapt off me, dropping the knife to the ground “I-” he choked out “y/n, I-I’m sorry” he shook his head as backed towards the window, putting space between us.

“It’s okay Az” I assured him, slowly sitting up in his bed and bringing my hand to my throat, wiping away the blood “I’m okay”

“Why are you? how did you?” he began to ask, his sentences fragmented as he processed my presence.

A thrum of panic shot through me as I debated what to tell him “Oh, I couldn’t sleep and was going to- head down to the kitchen… when your shadows they caught my attention and practically dragged me here. You looked distressed and I- I just wanted to help”

He ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes slowly raked across my body, taking in my appearance. I suddenly felt very exposed under his heated gaze.

“My shadows?” he asked, I nodded in assurance that he had heard correctly

“I’m sorry y/n” Azriel said making his way across the room and sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned to face me “May I?” he asked motioning to my neck. I nodded using my hands to smooth my hair out of the way. He grasped my chin with his thumb and forefinger slowly turning it to look at the damage to my neck.

“It’s really nothing Az” I said, my voice just above a whisper “barely a scratch”

“I can’t believe I did this” Az said releasing my chin, bringing his head to rest between his knees as he took deep steadying breaths.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, “you were having a nightmare, right?”  

A moment of silence passed between us.

Azriel raised his head, turning to look at me “It was- it was like I was back there again.”

I tentatively moved closer to him, tucking my legs under me as I sat next to him turning my body towards him so that we were now facing each other on the bed. Only a few inches seperated us.

“It was when this happened” he raised his hands, his gaze focused on the scars that marred the delicate flesh “when my stepbrothers set my hands on fire in some kind of sick science experiment” my chest tightened; remembering the screams of the child he had been, what he must have endured in that dark cell all those years.

I knew how he felt about his hands but after seeing for myself what had happened, I felt the overwhelming need to comfort him. I reached out my hands to clasp his and was surprised when he didn’t pull away.

His eyes drifted up until they met mine and I couldn’t deny what he did to me, his hungry gaze sending a rush of heat straight to my core. Feeling a surge of confidence, I lifted his scarred hands to my lips, placing soft kisses on them, I wanted to show him that I wasn’t afraid, that I accepted all of him even the parts he was ashamed of.

“y/n…” he said his voice low and rough, my name like a prayer on his lips.

I said his name, my voice pleading. I needed to be close to him. He must have felt the same, an unspoken agreement passing between us as he pulled me into his lap, my legs moving to straddle him as I rested my arms around his neck. My nightgown bunched at the top of my thighs, but I didn’t care as our mouths met in a desperate kiss, a clash of teeth and tongues as he took control.

His hands moved down my body to cup my backside, grinding me against him, his arousal thick and hard, straining through the fabric of his linen pants. The thin material of my panties did nothing to hide the wetness pooling at his actions.

He abruptly broke the kiss bringing his forehead to rest against mine “make me forget…please” he practically begged

“Az…” I practically moaned his name, bringing my hands to cup his face as I leaned in, pressing my lips against his in a much more sensual kiss. this kiss was much different from the first, I wanted to take my time, and savor the taste of him.

Time seemed to slow down, as my hands moved to grasp his hair, twirling the messy locks in my fingers as we explored each other. His own hands pulling me tight against his chest. I was so lost in my emotions that I gently tugged on that golden thread between us, needing to be closer to him.

He broke the kiss and I practically whined at the loss, opening my eyes to find him looking intensely at me. I couldn’t help but think that I wanted to drown myself in those endless pools of hazel as my entire world shifted, as that ribbon between us roared to life, glowing brighter and brighter as it connected us together, our very souls merging into one. The bond, he had felt it.

“You’re- you’re” he stuttered his eyes lining with silver at the realization, one that I had known for weeks.

I smiled, nodding profusely feeling a tidal wave of emotions flow down the bond.

“I’m your mate” I said softly. He brought his head to rest on my shoulder, placing a delicate kiss to it.

“You’re my mate” he repeated needing to say the words himself. “that’s how you really knew about the nightmare right?”

I nodded “I’m so sorry Az” I whispered “seeing what- what they did to you” a stray tear fell from the corner of my eye “I could feel everything, it was awful”

He brought his hands to frame my face, his thumbs wiping away the tears “It’s alright, it happened so long ago but the nightmares, they can be overwhelming, but I wouldn’t change it, all of it brought me here. All the pain and suffering eventually led me to you…my mate” the last two words were so full of love and wonder I buried my face into his chest breathing him in.

We sat like that for a while, just simply holding each other until a yawn escaped his lips.

“Maybe we should go back to sleep” I proposed

“Will you stay?” he asked rubbing small comforting circles on my back

“As long as you want me to”

He pulled us further onto the bed, his chest pressing against my back, his arm coming to rest across my stomach pulling me flush against him. I had never felt so safe or secure being held like this. His arms were where I wanted to be, where I would happily reside for the rest of my days. And from now on, I would always be there to chase his nightmares away.

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Thank you for reading!

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[cursestothemoon]

A Cruel Favor

Regulus Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Request: Could I get and angsty and sad blurb with Regulus? Nothing specific in mind, Regulus’ entire life is pretty tragic already- just throwing some strained and kind of heartbreaking romance into that mix sorry i like pain this is how i cope

Summary: Your relationship with the youngest Black brother in the form of memories seen in a pensieve by Sirius Black.

Warnings: Death, sadness, crying, the dark mark, ghosts

Word Count: 3265

Author's Note: babe you asked for a blurb and i just did not listen i am so sorry, if you'd still like a blurb let me know and i'll whip up a little short piece but regardless i hope you enjoy this 😌

“You didn’t know him! You didn’t want to know him!” Your voice bellowed, trembling with the burning anger you held in your heart for the eldest Black brother.

It was true, back when the war was just ‘politics’ and the ‘Dark Lord’ a name whispered behind closed doors, Sirius Black had already made up his mind about his family- Regulus included.

“He was my brother.” Sirius spoke the statement as if just the mere fact of relation was supposed to trump that he hadn't even spoken to his brother in the months prior to his death.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Don’t lie for the sake of saving face, you never saw him as a brother; not then and certainly not now.”

Sirius seemed taken aback by your accusation, his words getting lost on his tongue for a moment before he quickly regained his fiery passion for argument.

“He betrayed me.”

“You were the one who betrayed him!” Your accusatory finger pointed at Sirius.

The eldest Black brother’s features went stoney, “The moment he decided to get that mark, was the moment he lost his name as my brother.”

Everything in the mangey old house seemed to still, a silence falling so powerful you could hear a pin drop. Your slow footsteps were exaggerated in the quiet, each creak ringing in both yours and Sirius’ ears. With a tired hand, you pushed a small pouch onto the surface of the dining room table, the vials inside clinking together softly.

“They’re numbered.” You breathed out. “There is so much you don’t know, Sirius.”

You walked through the door and onto the street hastily, not wasting any time to apparate back home.

Sirius sat down in the nearest chair with a huff, his knees spread as his shoulders slid down the back of the chair. He hadn’t remembered just how far up his brother’s ass you were.

Roughly, he rubbed his face with his palms before lazily reaching for the dark velvet pouch on the table. The emerald green reminded him not only of his brother, but of his entire family, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth at the memories of his family that seemed to plague his mind.

Fittingly, Sirius opened the pouch to reveal just that. The silvery, viscous tendrils that floated through each vial were immediately recognized by the pureblood. You had given him your memories...and a letter.

You deserve to know him.

Y/N L/N

Sirius’ curiosity regarding what secrets of his brother’s seemed to be swimming in the vials bubbled over, he was sure 12 Grimmauld Place was harbouring a pensieve somewhere within its walls, he’d just have to get up and find it.

17 October 1974

Barty Crouch Jr. was an insolent child, the type to collect bones and listen to them rattle. He had a nervous tick, his tongue slithering past his lips every so often in a manner that was so serpentine it made your skin prick.

“Come on then, L/N, be a good little girl and do as I say.”

You threw down your quill in frustration, “Bugger off, Crouch. I’ve said no.”

“Don't be like that,” Barty smirked, coming closer to where you were sitting. “It’s only some homework. You were going to do yours anyway, why not get some extra practice in by doing mine too?”

“I’d rather have unforgivables practiced on me than do anything you ask.”

His sickly sweet smile wasn’t one you were expecting, his voice low and threatening, “That can be arranged.”

Your blood ran cold as you watched his nimble fingers move toward his wand pocket in his robes. Truthfully, you should’ve known better. Being in the same house as Barty allowed you the luxury of hearing all the gossip surrounding him and his hobbies, dark magic and curses being at the top of that list.

“Barty.”

The cold baritone made the sandy-haired menace stop in his tracks, his face contorting into an expression of mild annoyance and frustration.

“There’s no need for you to be acting like a child. Quite humiliating asking someone else to do your work, isn’t it, Crouch? Are you too thick to get it done yourself?”

Barty turned to look at his friend, words jumbling as he tried to figure out how to get himself out of the hole he had dug.

“Reg-” The stone-like stare had Barty cowering and mouth snapping shut, the boy seemingly trying to fold in on himself.

With a simple nod of his head, Regulus directed the him to make himself useful elsewhere, but you were far too taken by the handsome boy in front of you to notice the stomping footsteps of Barty’s as he left. Of course you had known of Regulus Black, seen him from afar and even once had Transfiguration with him, but seeing him up close was an experience in and of itself. His skin was ghostly pale, hair dark and wavy as it fell just below his ears, and his cheekbones were high accentuating the slant of his nose. Regulus Black was beautiful, everything about him seemed to be placed just right and sculpted with the utmost care and attention.

He turned to you, your eyes meeting before he gave you an appraising look.

“Regulus.” His hand struck out, a rather rugged introduction.

Slowly, you took his hand in yours and proceeded to shake it. You couldn’t seem to rid yourself of the feeling that your hand was far too dirty, far too boring to be touching his, to even be near his.

“Y/n L/n, thank you- for that.” You were proud of yourself for not allowing your voice to shake.

“I’m sorry he was a bother.”

Regulus seemed to lack the ability of holding a conversation, he nodded- you assumed a goodbye- and got ready to make his way to the dorms.

“Wait,” Your voice came out before you could stop it. “You could stay, I’m almost done anyway. We could...talk.”

The suggestion had the boy's ears turning pink, his words coming out stuttered and jumbled, a stark contrast from the boy who had told off Barty so eloquently.

“If you- alright.”

You thought for a moment before speaking again, “You’re not very good at talking to people are you?”

“Excuse my blatant honesty, but you make me quite nervous.”

It was your turn to have your ears turn a soft hue of red, “I could say the same about you.”

5 April 1975

“Haven’t you got your own side of the blanket? Must you be so close to me?” You giggled, trying to roll away from Regulus while still avoiding the grass.

Regulus smiled, his eyes closing and nose scrunching in thought before he spoke, “I prefer to be close to you; making sure you won’t run out on me.”

Both of you began giggling, his head falling to nudge your shoulder. Ultimately, Regulus shuffled away from your side, allowing just about a foot of space in between your bodies. The wind rustled your hair as you turned your neck to look at the youngest Black as he sat up, his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, arms propping himself up as his palms pressed flat against the floor.

It was no secret that Regulus was beautiful. His dark hair- now gently flowing in the cool breeze- stood out against his pale skin, freckles were dusted delicately over his aristocratic nose and sharp cheekbones. You could tell he’d never worked a day in his life with how handsome and soft his hands were. His fingers were long and slender, never dry or rough, and his nails perfectly trimmed and always clean.

Regulus Black was absolutely perfect and you were regretting ever complaining about his proximity.

You were quick to right your wrong, bashfully you raised yourself onto all fours and crawled over to your boyfriend. Regulus tried to hold in his smirk, avoiding turning to look at you directly but you could tell his resolve was breaking.

“Regulus…” You spoke his name with an innocent lilt, sitting back on your shins once you were close enough to have your knees touching his thigh.

He hummed, not giving you the satisfaction of having his full attention.

A huff of frustration fell past your lips at his stubbornness as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his legs just above his knees. His composure was thinning, a wide smile threatening to spread across his thin lips.

“You’re far too close,” he teased, his hand coming up as if trying to stop you from getting any closer. “I believe you are on my side of the blanket, L/n.”

“Don’t be so fickle, Black.”

Regulus’ pale blue eyes found yours, his delicate hand coming up to run across the delicate collar of your dress.

“It’s in my nature isn’t it?” His eyes held a certain sadness that you could not place, one you wouldn’t see again until a few years later.

Your lips parted to respond to him, only to be interrupted by a Hogwarts ghost floating nearby. It was a ghost neither you nor Regulus were familiar with and as she passed she mumbled something- rather spitefully- about young love. The event had your train of thought derailed, a quiet giggle erupting from your throat as the transparent, deceased woman floated on.

Regulus seemed to find the woman just as amusing as you did, his eyes crinkling with laughter as you two now looked at each other in fits of hysterics.

“Oh her poor soul!” You exclaimed, eyes looking off in the direction she had gone. “If you were a ghost, Reg, where would you haunt with your undead presence.”

His expression contorted into one of reminiscence, “Uncle Alphard’s cherry orchard just a few kilometers from Monts de Venasque. When we were little, Sirius and I would play in the trees. I could sit in those cherry trees for hours, everything just seemed to disappear. Alphard’s been burned off the tapestry since, but he’s left the property in my possession along with the small house on the land. I think if I were to choose one place to spend eternity, it would be there.”

You smiled softly at his answer.

“And you?” He asked, bringing you out of your lovesick haze.

“Me?” You chuckled. “I’d suppose my eternity would be well spent as long as I was somewhere with you.”

28 June 1976

It seemed the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place shook with how hard Sirius had slammed the front door.

He was gone.

Completely and entirely gone.

And Regulus was completely and entirely alone now.

Regulus swiftly made his way up the stairs and to his room, just barely avoiding a collision with the poor house elf.

“Y/n’s room.” The words were spoken clearly and concisely as the floo powder fell from his shaky hands.

The time of night- 2:27 am- was of little importance to Regulus, he needed to see you.

You woke up with a jolt, the sound of someone stumbling into your room and panicked mumbling doing nothing to ease your nerves though the mop of dark curls had your heart calming down.

“Reg?”

He turned to look at you with heartbroken eyes, watery and bloodshot.

“He’s gone.” He choked out.

You kicked the blankets off yourself and stood up from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor.

Keeping a calm tone you slowly got closer to him, “Who’s gone, love?”

His pain was so evident, rolling off him in waves, “Sirius- he’s not coming back.”

“Oh,” You sighed, treading lightly. “I’m sur-”

“No!” He cried, “Burned off the tapestry, probably with the Potters- he’s gone an-and he left me with them.”

Regulus’ anguish, tear stained cheeks, had your own eyes welling with unshed tears. It was clear words would do nothing to calm him, instead you opted for pushing yourself into him and taking his crying form into your arms. His body seemed to give out as you held him, his tears soaking your shirt as he wailed into your neck.

Neither of you could tell how long you stood in the middle of your room seemingly holding him together, but his cries subsided into gentle whimpers and the occasional sniffle as his nose nudged the side of your neck.

His voice came out rough and strained, just barely above a whisper, “Please don’t- don’t leave me like Si- like he did.”

You could feel your heart shatter, “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived in this mess if I had never known you.”

Your breath came out ragged as you spoke the truest words you've ever dared to speak, “My heart beats for you, Regulus.”

30 December 1979

His forearm itched.

It seemed to always have an odd itch ever since he was sixteen.

Regulus watched your form get closer, bundled in a thick overcoat and a dark blue scarf- Christmas present from himself- wrapped neatly around your neck. You were the picture of beauty, like a living doll with your soft smile and adoring eyes.

“My love.” You greeted him, leaning in to place a soft kiss against his cold cheek.

His eyes seemed distant, your only greeting a tight lipped smile.

Your eyebrows knit together, “Everything alright?”

Regulus nodded, his eyes swimming with a sadness so familiar, “Just taking you in.”

He pulled off his leather gloves, stuffing them deep in his coat pocket before reaching his hand out to hold your jaw, his thumb running across your skin. The action was comforting and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to savour the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

You let out a small gasp when you felt him take your lips in a slow kiss. It was passionate, loving, yet there was a certain finality to it that had a shiver run up your spine in the most unpleasant way.

“I have the cruelest favor to ask of you, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me once I do.”

Your stomach dropped, “What do you mean, Regulus? What- what favor?”

“Please, try to understand-”

“What favor?”

“I couldn’t-”

“Tell me what the favor is, Regulus.”

Your voice had an edge to it that made him compose himself almost instantly.

He took a breath before speaking, his eyes looking off somewhere behind you as he spoke, “He’s getting stronger.”

You didn’t need to ask who this ‘he’ was, the tone made it very clear.

“He has these… horcruxes. Incredibly dark magic, I don't know how many but I know of one. It’s hidden and I’ve found out the location, I can destroy it I know I can but-”

His tone was hushed and your heart rate had started to pick up speed.

“But you don’t know if you’ll live to tell the tale?” You asked with a humorless laugh.

The look in Regulus’ eyes had told you, you were right.

“I can’t let him continue. If this could stop him, weaken him even, it’s worth whatever the consequence to myself may be.” He argued.

You pushed yourself further from him, “I can’t- I won’t lose you. No, there’s no way.”

His expression shifted into one of sorrow and pleading, “I have to.”

And you knew there was no changing his mind.

You bit the side of your lip anxiously, looking at the ground before asking, “And this favor?”

The heartbreak was almost palpable, his voice going raw.

“I cannot be fully prepared to do anything that is necessary to destroy this horcrux if-”

He cut himself off with an intake of breath.

“If I know you’ll be waiting for my return, if I know what I have to leave behind I may be tempted to not go through with my plan.”

You couldn’t help but feel and look horrified, “What are you asking of me, Regulus?”

He seemed to flinch at the tone of your voice, a tone you’d never used before and one he couldn’t name.

“I need you to obliviate yourself from my memory.”

It felt as though your chest had collapsed in on itself, “I-I couldn-”

“You have to!” Regulus cried, his arms gripping the sides of your face as you couldn’t help but let a choked sob escape from your lips. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to go through with it, I can't know that there’s a possibility of leaving you.”

“Please, Regulus, you can’t ask this of me.” You choked out, searching his eyes for some sort of humor, something that told you it was all a cruel joke.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, both of your eyes closing as you two took in short, ragged breaths.

Everything seemed darker. The flowers in the Black garden were cold and dead, the snow wasn’t snow at all, instead dangerous sheets of ice. It was then you realized the war, the death eaters, everything had become so real.

“There is a letter on your bed at home, I’ve settled everything for you. I’m going to stand against the pillar, my back to you, and you are going to do it from behind the hedges so we won’t see each other after. You need to leave once it’s done alright?”

You nodded solemnly, knowing there was no use in fighting it. The cause was bigger than you, bigger than Regulus. Everyone made sacrifices, this just had to be yours.

“My heart beats for you, Y/n, whether I know it or not.”

“And mine for you, Regulus.” You smiled sadly, pulling his wrist up to your face and pulling back his sleeve to reveal his dark mark, pressing a kiss to the skin you spoke, “You aren’t them, you never were and you never will be.”

Regulus smiled but said nothing as he lowered his arms and put his gloves back on. With slow steps he walked to the pillar and looked back at you one last time.

“I’m just taking you in.” He whispered, before slowly turning.

You took your wand from your coat as you took even slower steps to stand just far enough for him not to notice you after it had been done. Regulus felt his resolve crumble with each crunch of your boots against the frozen ground, his eyes screwed shut- tears rolling down his face freely- as he prepared for what was coming.

With a shaky hand you raised your wand.

“Obliviate.”

Present

Sirius seemed to be thrown back from the pensieve, as if the memory had rejected him from viewing any longer, still sensitive. He felt an odd tickling sensation run down his cheek, his hand raising to brush away a stray tear as he fell into a nearby chair.

He never knew…

***

You pushed open the backdoor of your small home, the warm scent of cherry trees welcoming you. The sun was just barely starting to set as you looked off into the horizon of the vast field of trees, if you looked long enough you could make out the handsome silhouette of a boy you once knew sitting up in a cherry tree.

Only a few short months later, the lone figure would be joined by another… a brother.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@tayyx

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal /Betrothal AU: Take Two

So here is the second part of the betrothal AU that I decided to name "A Failed Betrothal. This takes place before Part 1 which in hindsight should have been done first. Part 2 got too long so I cut it and started Part 3. I have no idea and nothing planned on how long this will go. Hope you enjoy ❤.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)

PART 2

Marinette also wasn't having a good day or a good week.

Lila Rossi had been up to her usual tricks. You know, spewing lies from her mouth. How she met these awesome celebrities during this trip and they worship the ground she walks on for her amazing and humbling help. There were stories of these charities, trips and galas that she had been to or was invited to. She has problems with her wrists and can't do simple stuff like carry her own bag or do her homework. She has tinnitus in her ears so she needs to sit in the front where the only seat available would be next to Adrien.

And for the finale.

The desert after feeding the class a banquet of lies.

"Mari...nette..has been bullying me, she...told..me not to tell anyone..*sobs*..that she would kill me if I did.."

Lila dramatically gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Turning on the waterworks for a more dramatic effect. They all ate it up, jumping on the ‘let’s hate Marinette, a bad person’ train.

"She is going to kill me now and I am so scared." That snake managed to snuck an evil smirk past her glaring, oblivious classmates.

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

Marinette, at this point of her life, had frankly given up caring for them due to the class's lack of brain cells and Agreste's spineless 'High Road' Approach.

For Kwami's sake, she went through a brutal torture that was training in some jungle temple in Asia before Sabine Cheng, former mercenary/assassin, kidnapped her (Little Marinette took a risk. She ran away and followed her around until Sabine begrudgingly accepted that she was now the 6- year-old girl's mother because screw it, Tom said he wanted children.) to raise/train as her own while she settled down with a baker whose mother may or may not have ties with the Mafia and other illegal activities.

(Mother-daughter bonding days became much more fun once she had Guardianship of the Miraculous. Sabine was ,at first, furious at Master Fu for dumping everything on the girl and losing his memories before swearing to help protect the jewels. Adopted or not, Marinette is her daughter and no one should let a child, even one with training, fight a war. A good thing to come out of her reveal was that her mother was a great tiger to have as back-up. But now, her training regime had become harder and challenging.)

The point was that Lila Rossi would be dead and body missing since that first time she threatened Marinette in the bathroom. The Italian was in perfect health despite what she claims otherwise, because Marinette didn’t want to be the person she was raised to be and also she didn’t want to disappoint Tikki, she was fond of the little red kwami. But sometimes, she just wanted to give into the urge to kill.

She had met and dealt with unsavory characters of all types and she can safely say that Lila Rossi was a manipulator that thrives on attention and like a parasite, latches herself onto the fame of others. None of the unsavory people she had met get under her skin like Rossi had.

Marinette had enough self-preservation to drop the nice girl act and sometimes let the dragon underneath to surface. She stopped doing last-minute favors and giving away free stuff which Lila uses to her full advantage to further destroy her relationships with her ‘friends’. It was better than sticking her neck out for classmates that were no longer worth her time. Attempts to expose Lila had backfired due to the denial they are in, believing the liar to be a sweet, nice girl living the high life.

Adrien with his rose-tinted glasses firmly stuck to his eyes was not happy at all with her decision. That may also have to do where she suggested he shove his advice after he tried to reason her to take the high road for defending herself for the umpteenth time. She felt like the biggest idiot to ever have a crush on him. Every time, Rossi blames Marinette for a problem, he would shoot disappointed looks in her direction.

Alya being Lila's biggest guard dog tore into Marinette for her newfound 'bad' behaviour. The rest of Lila's supporters backed her up with "How could you do that to Lila","I can't believe you changed." Nearly all her so-call friends had turned their backs and lost all common sense to the Italian's manipulations.

(Alya was supposed to be her best friend, aren’t you supposed to listen to your ‘bestie’ over a complete stranger)

The designer took it all with a bored expression on her face, used to the lecturing which was a waste of time because her behavior isn't going to change, no matter what, Lie-la will keep up the act of being the bully's (*cough*Marinette*cough*) victim.

Her heart that cracks the tiniest bit at the accusations. A small part of her, she admits, is hurt that they think so low of her.Was she really that worthless to them? All those times and efforts helping them out on last-minute favors and giving them free treats. Were they not enough to earn their friendship? Their trust or at the very least, a benefit of doubt?

The only ones who didn’t join the berating to 'correct' the raven-haired girl’s attitude were Chloe (who had proven herself to have changed after the miracle queen incident and Lila stole the spotlight and Sabrina. There were a lot of apologizes, gifts and ‘making up to do’) Alix (she came to her senses when the supposed bullying started) and Nathaniel (Lila blatantly claimed to be the artist for the Ladybug comic to his face).

“Girl, Marinette, are you even listening to me?”Alya demanded.

“Maybe. Did you say anything that doesn’t have to do with Lila or how I did her wrong or how I am no longer the person you knew?”

Marinette knew that being sarcastic would backfire but nothing she does or says will change what they think of her. One word from Lila and they will turn back on her. As much as she hates to admit it, Lila’s threat has fallen through and she was alone. Mostly.

She still had Chloe, Nathaniel, Alix, Luka and Kagami as friends. The trust-worthy and loyal kind.

“Girl,” Alya says in a disappointed tone, shaking her head,“when I look at you, I don’t see that girl who stood up to Chloe the bully-”, Chloe snorted, she had changed but they were too blind and prejudiced against her to notice her efforts, “-Picking on Lila, threatening and harassing her. This isn’t you and you know it. Just get over your jealousy on Lila being close to Adrien and apologize to her.”

If Alya had talked to her in the past 12 months other than demanding things that took away her time or anything relating to Lila, she would know that her infatuation had turned into annoyance.

Marinette sighed, too tired of this routine, tired of trying to knock heads so the brain cells can work again. Apologizing would mean that Lila had won. She was petty and stubborn enough to allow that to happen. Lila said she will take the class and Adrien. Fine, she can have them but Marinette Dupain-Cheng will not admit defeat. Bigger men had fallen to the ravenette for lesser offences. A year has passed since the expulsion and the class still hasn't regained common senses, so they can deal with the consequences after the inevitable downfall of Lila and Marinette will be there to see them lay in the grave they dug.

Steeling herself for the pain that will come with the execution of her plan,

“What if I don’t. I won’t apologize to her because I have not done anything to her or even interacted with her. If I apologize, it would be insincere and a lie. And I hate liars.” The former assassin said evenly.

“Lila is not a liar. I don’t know why you are like this.” Alya said, frustrated.

Marinette knew there would be a small chance of an akuma with Gabriel Agreste having an important meeting to attend on this day that would last for the next hour. This was the small window of opportunity to start the plan and also further confirm the identity of Hawkmoth. Killing two birds with one stone.

“Alya, this has always been me, you just never took the time to get to really know the real me.”, she replied, the last part with an icy tone.

“Well-... I- ..You-, fine, then if you can’t say those simple three words, we can’t be friends. I clearly don’t know what a selfish bitch you are. God, I can’t believe I wanted to be best friends with you. You are now replaced by Lila because unlike you, she is genuinely nice and selfless.” Alya declared. The rest of Lila’s supporters murmured in agreement.

Phase 1, complete. Lure the Lie-la into a false sense of security by making her think she won.

Marinette tried not to show how hurt she was, to be replaced by the scheming bitch. But at the same time she felt relieved, she no longer had to walk on eggshells in fear of losing the friendships of people she used to care about. It felt final as she maintained her stoic expression, hoping they didn't notice the glassy sheen her eyes had.

“Then, it is official. We are no longer friends.”

They haven’t been friends for a long time.

Mme. Bustier finally walked into the classroom to start the afternoon classes, signalling the end of the conversation. After class, Marinette resolves to inform them that she was resigning as class president which she was sure the class will be glad for. She was right.

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

Ladybug was, as the Americans say, pissed at Hawkmoth which was nothing new. He had sent out another akuma just as Marinette was back home and trying to relax after the stressful day. The akuma was not any of her ex-friends which she wasn’t sure to be thankful for or not.

Louise Martin was a boy about Luka’s age and mad at his friends who had blamed their fifth loss-in-a-row on him despite the fact that it was his skills that were getting them any progress. They were playing one of those recently released 5V5 skills and strategy battle games. (League of Legends or Mobile Legends. Take your pick, I am going with the latter)

He was akumatized into Hayakuma as proof of Hawkmoth’s lack of creativity. Hayakuma was a bleached out version of Louise’s chosen hero avatar, Hayabusa whose outfit was basically what the media portrays ninjas to look like with some samurai aspects.

Unfortunately, he also had the hero’s ultimate special powers which were making four shadow copies of himself and being able to switch positions with them. Thanks to Rattlesnake’s Second Chance, they know that he can only make a switch once every two minute. Hayakuma also wields a sword, showing off his skills.

Just lovely.

Hydra and Ladybug were the only ones able to counter his attacks with Hydra’s sword and Ladybug’s summoned one. (Let’s go with that headcanon(?)/trope that she can summon weapons for plot convenience and the others can too but just don’t have enough practise yet.)

The others managed to dodge and shield themselves from Hayakuma’s really sharp sword.

The shadows themselves were annoying as they would distract or hinder the miraculous users by grabbing them by their shadows and making them unable to move. Until Bunnix had the brilliant idea of shadow boxing which gave the heroes gain more even ground.

With how strong and handful the akuma was, it was code ‘all hands on deck’. Ladybug, Stinger, Rattlesnake, Hydra, Bunnix, Trickster. Well, nearly every hand. Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was busy with the bakery. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen or very late which had been the norm for the last year ever since Ladybug wanted to form a new miraculous team consisting of permanent heroes.

(He didn’t show up for the first few months because the first permanent member was Ladybug’s mother who did not like his attitude towards her daughter. He ran away with his tail between his legs once he found out how she was related to Ladybug. His face when he realized it, was something Marinette will cherish forever)

At least when Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was around, he would not dare act out of line. When she is gone however, he is back to his old ways.

After saving one of Louise’s teammates from Hayakuma’s sword, they gathered the rest of the team and hid them someplace safe. Using Trickster’s illusions to trick all the shadows and the original to one place, the heroes were going to surround and ambush them and get the akumatized item. The plan would have been a success if it weren’t for Chat Noir hugging Ladybug from behind, making her miss her cue.

“Hey~ Bugaboo~ Did you miss me~? Your Chaton~?”

Thwack! Smack!

Chat Noir was on the rooftop, groaning pitifully in pain. Especially his crotch area. Ladybug glared at him and looked to the ambush point to see the illusions had disappeared and everyone else gone from their hiding place.

She sighed and turned on the comms, (Thank you, kwamis)

“Sting, did you venomed the akuma?”

“No, he escaped before I could. What happened, LB?”

“A certain cat got me delayed. What’s the status update?”

“Hydra is holding him off and Bunnix found that an umbrella is a good substitute for a sword. The rest of us are keeping track of the shadows. They split up but none of them are getting near where we hid the targets.”

“Where are you? I will meet you later with back-up.”

“Near Notre Dame and tell Mama Tigress I said hi.”

“Tell her yourself.”

She looked down at Chat No-, no he is not worthy of being a hero anymore with the amount of times he had derailed and hijacked the plans to defeat the akumas just so he can ‘earn’ Ladybug’s heart.

She looked down at Adrien Agreste, who was sitting and sulking like a child that was unfairly punished. (Once she got over her crush and started looking at the right things that she managed to piece together her ‘partner’s’ identity by accident. Tikki’s confirmation sealed the deal.)

“Chat Noir, this partnership of ours,” she said, gesturing to the two of them, “ is going to change tonight. Meet me at the ‘spot’ at 11 sharp. Now, go home.”

He left with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes at her words. She felt a little bad about the subtle manipulation but with the way things were now, it can’t go on. He was hindering more than helping and the people of Paris that weren’t shipping ‘Ladynoir’ saw that.

As she jumped towards Notre Dame, she called the bakery with her yoyo.

“Mama, are you free now? I need a little help with the akuma and can you bring the horse miraculous.”

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

Chat Noir waited excitedly at what they both dubbed at their ‘spot’, in the good old days when it was just the two of them. Maybe Ladybug was finally open to the idea of dating. Or maybe she must have seen what a great hero he is and was going to get rid of the team. Or realized that having her mother on her team was a bad idea. Parents are the worst and they both can be two rebellious teenagers in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. So romantic~.

He was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t hear his lady land.

“Chat Noir.” Startled, he nearly fell off the roof. No, don’t make a fool of yourself in front of Ladybug.

“Yes, Bugaboo.” Hoping she didn’t know that he was very distracted. His attention will always be hers 100%.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo. Tikki wants to talk to Plagg about Kwami stuff. So you go over and hide behind that chimney. Then, we can talk about why I told you to be here.” Adrien frowned and then smiled. His lady must be very embarrassed about her mistake that must be why she is taking her time. He tried listening to what they were saying but the kwamis were talking in their special Guardian Language. Was it him or did Tikki’s voice sound more like his lady’s voice?

Whizz!

Adrien was tied up with Ladybug’s yoyo. “M’Lady? Bugaboo!? LADYBUG! WHAT IS GOING ON?!! PLAGG-”

Ladybug cut in, “Adrien Agreste, you have been slack in your hero duty and choosing your own feelings over supporting your partner, me, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous and current Grand Guardian, in the efforts to defeat the enemy of Paris, Hawkmoth. Due to those reasons, you are no longer worthy to be the Holder of the Black Cat Miraculous” in one swift motion, she took the ring off his finger, “As such you are hereby revoked of Plagg’s Ring.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I LOVE YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME BACK. WE ARE SOULMATES, WE ARE MEANT TO BE-”

Adrien went slack at Lady Tigress’s pinch on his pressure point.

“I don’t what you ever saw in the boy.”

“I don’t know either. I think I dodged a bullet here. Can you carry him back to his home? I think I have dealt with enough of him tonight.” Ladybug muttered, as she erased Adrien’s memories of being Chat Noir.

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Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe.

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(Part 3)

[bibbykins]

Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

Tip Jar

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Vanilla Chain 1

Prompt: Ghost remembers each time they died and that’s how they’ve progressed through challenges most bugs wouldn’t even dream achieving. However, no one else seems to remember and instead they wonder why Ghost reacts badly to simple casual touches.

By @ink-of-void

A dull drone of rain pattered down across the cool stone below. The rain had only served as a buffer to the dull, passive steps of the bugs in the city, or the ever so gentle wing beats in the distance. Occasional creaks and groans would whine from the structures of the city, begging for maintenance or to finally be allowed rest. Each sound, each moment only served to further cement itself in the cacophony of white noise. A symphony of empty sound that echoed into the city's ambience.

It had been hours since the Ghost had stopped in front of the statue. Its small head tilted upwards to face that of the stone, carved to the likeness of its sibling. The inscription below spoke of sacrifice. An Eternal sacrifice. It was almost ironic. How the one forced to suffer was put on display at the apex of the ‘City of Tears’.

Memories began to rise, welling up and bubbling in its shell. They could remember their sibling screaming. How the sound of their cries echoed on deaf ears, or that easing their pain meant rending their own flesh in a desperate attempt to stop the torture. It was a waking nightmare.

They had failed their sibling. Try as they might, time and again, they could not bring it upon themselves to strike that final blow. The cries of the ‘Hollow Knight’ screeching into the black egg as they faded away from consciousness for the umpteenth time. A pang of discomfort manifested in their shell.

Slowly Ghost’s mind went from just their sibling to all the other bugs. Each one of those who slaughtered Ghost without mercy, killed with reckless abandon, or just proved to best them in combat. They were the ones it had defeated in the past. Bugs that had caused them to relive the same ritual of failure repeatedly before finally earning that place of victory. Every misstep, every badly timed jump, every poorly executed attack, It all ended in the same punishment over and over. 
CRaCK.

The pain was almost palpable just thinking about it.

It felt just as new as the first time they were ever defeated. A cold sting of its shell cracking, body being torn limb from limb, crumbling beneath them like old stone. Void spilling from its head and pooling into a free floating shape among those lost to the sickness or those who simply proved superior. Though, the empty feeling of losing its corporeal flesh paled in comparison to what came next.

It was like floating up into an entropy of empty space and confusion. The dark land was void of any life or warmth, disorienting all that passed into its wake. Yet every time, it would be waiting to welcome the vessel back again and again into its crushing, desolate embrace. It felt itself being split in two, one being given back to the world, while the other was forced to remain in limbo until it was saved. But it wouldn't matter, as they would re-awaken only moments later, sitting patiently on a bench back where they started.

The overwhelming sense of exhaustion and dissonance took a toll each time they came back. Missing half of their being and having to fight themselves just so they can regain the broken piece back. All the while, no one else seems to take notice, or even remember what had happened prior. Hundreds of failures, hundreds of deaths, and Ghost could never seem to get used to it. It truly was a burden, one that Ghost often sought refuge from by simply resting a while longer at the bench.

It was a dance with death that always ended in what could be considered a ‘mercy’. The lack of claim to its shade, allowed them yet another chance. But perhaps mercy wasn't the right term. Having to battle your own face, a fragment of your own being… it hardly seemed kind, or fair. Even after returning the shade to its rightful place, the fight wasn’t over. Most of the time, it was only just beginning. There would be no rest. There was never any rest.

However to the spider in red, this tiny bug formed of the void and pale, felt nothing as it cut down everything from vermin to gods. Acting as if death was simply part of a long list of chores, they made it seem effortless. So when she first responded to Lemm’s call, she would be lying if she didn't find it the slightest bit odd that Ghost was simply standing idle. She reached out to them, barely grazing their back with her fingers. “Ghost?-”


Without another moment passing, the vessel whipped around, nail in hand. The slash was quick, the sharp song of the blade ripping through the air as Ghost’s reaction went into motion. Time seemed to slow for a moment, its blind attack not revealing the consequence of its actions before it was far too late. Ghosts cloak finally revealed the bug into its immediate view. Upon seeing the figure, their body tensed, hanging onto the blade with an iron grip. 


Hornet didn’t even realize what happened until she glanced down at her arm. Seeing the deep blue blood dripping from the new slice in her shell was telling enough. It was nothing more than a surface wound if she was honest. Easily fixed with time and bandages. But that wasn’t her concern at the moment. Letting her hand close, she looked over to Ghost with a worried expression.

The vessel stood ready, both hands on its nail as it simply held the weapon in place. A tiny shake was visible at the end of the nail it was brandishing. Their face held no expression, yet its body told Hornet all she needed to know.

“Little Ghost?” She asked quietly, holding up her hands to show she wasn't a threat. “Are you… alright? Lemm asked me to come check on you. He says you’ve been here for hours now.”


Ghost paused for a moment, clicking its head towards Hornet. Realization struck them, causing them to slowly lower their weapon. Their gaze fell to the floor as the nail hit the stone sidewalk with a light clink. Their blade’s shimmering reflection bounced back to the vessel's sockets. Part of it was stained with the blood of their sister, obscuring some of the brilliant reflection. The water occasionally dripped down and cut the image in two, washing away the blood as it did.

Hornet sighed, going over to them and gently knelt down.

“Is something the matter, little Ghost?” the spider chimed softly, going over to touch their shoulder. Ghost recoiled, pulling their shoulder away in a rather aggressive manner. Their head didnt lift, turning instead to focus on their path. They put their nail on their back and began their leave. The spider stood up after a moment, bowing her head with a little shake as Ghost began to disappear


“Even you need to rest sometimes, little one. Please I’m, try to get some.”

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By https://twitter.com/Hell_Yena

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By @nonbinary-ghost​

Rain patters down against your shell like thousands of tiny, icy stones. The drum of it inside your mask and the prickling of it against your small body would normally be unpleasant enough as to be overwhelming; but lost as you are in your thoughts and the twisting waves of emotion trying to drown you, the rain is scarcely enough to ground you. You feel disconnected and distant, as if you aren’t really in control of your body, merely being carried along by the steady movement of your legs.

You gradually realize that you have been wandering like this for a while now. How long, you can scarcely guess, but long enough that your cloak is soaked through, and any scrap of warmth has left you. Dirtmouth had been celebrating the first twelve span of being free of the Infection, and while you had been just as happy as the next bug about the recovery of the town, the celebration had filled you with a nameless, twisting dread. And then all the lights and the sounds and the smells and the touching had left you reeling and sick. So you ran.

It could have been hours since then. You have no way of knowing. You don’t quite remember deciding to come to the City of Tears either. You just let your thoughts blur into a black haze, pointed your mask to the ground, and let your feet carry you wherever they wanted to go. You hadn’t expected to find yourself standing before the statue of your sibling. You simply realized that you were staring blankly at the inscription along the statue’s base.

“Through its sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal.” Something hot and prickly bubbles up inside of you at the words, making your shell itch and crawl like when you fall in acid. Hornet had once explained the feeling as anger. Why are you angry? You puzzle over it for a moment, resisting your initial urge to strike at the plaque with your nail and scratch out the offending inscription. Instead, you read over it again, feeling the anger boil deep in your belly.

Sacrifice. That’s the part that makes you angry. Sacrifice implies choice. Hollow had no choice in sealing the Radiance. You hadn’t had any choice. None of your siblings had any agency over anything that happened to them. No, none of you were giver the choice to make sacrifices – you were the sacrifice. And for what? Hallownest still fell. So many bugs died, so many cultures were consumed by the plague and lost to dust and rot. All of your siblings, but Hollow and Hornet especially, still suffered and struggled. Yes, you had eventually killed the Radiance, but that hadn’t been part of the Pale King’s plan. He didn’t even know about Godseeker, didn’t even consider that there might be another way that didn’t involve condemning his child to an eternity of suffering. No, your “Father” had expected all of you to “sacrifice” yourselves to the seals and suffer in silent mystery to keep the Radiance contained. How dare he imply any level of choice in what happened to your siblings.

“Ghost?”

The soft question yanks you painfully from your thoughts and you feel as if you slam back into yourself. You are suddenly very aware of the rain hitting your mask, of your hands clenched into fists.

Of the dark shadows that had begun to flicker like flames around you receiving back into you. You spin to find Hornet standing on one of the nearby signposts, her red cloak so damp it nearly looked brown and her needle poised as if prepared to zip away at any moment.

“Are you alright?” Her stance relaxes somewhat as the shadows fade. You don’t know how to answer, so you simply turn away. You look up at your sibling’s likeness looming over you, proud, regal, poised. Not at all like the desperate, brutal Pure Vessel you were forced to fight in Godseeker’s Pantheons. Not at all like the sick and injured bug that you freed from the black egg temple after killing the Radiance.

“Do you need to be alone?”

You shrug. The happiness and celebration in Dirtmouth had been overwhelming, and you had wanted to be alone then. But now, a part of you mutters discontentedly. You’re lonely, and maybe Hornet of all people could understand these feelings. She was the only one besides Hollow who might. “I’m angry,” you sign, pointing at yourself and making a sharp gesture with both hands. Hornet has slowly been teaching you and Hollow the sign language used in the Hive, but none of you are all that good with it yet. It often requires body language and facial expressions for certain distinctions between similar signs – a difficult feat to accomplish when your face is a mask. Hornet follows your gaze and hops down to join you.

“About the statue?”

You point to the inscription.

“We didn’t have a choice,” you sign furiously. “We failed. And now what’s left?”

You stop, a dawning realization creeping through you. That was why you’re angry. Why you’re discontent even though by all accounts you had succeeded. You defeated the Radiance, ended the Infection, freed your sibling, and even survived channeling the Void Entity. You are free to do whatever you want now, but you slowly realize that this new freedom is what has you feeling so distant. You and your siblings were all created with a purpose, and now, with that purpose gone, you have nothing left. You have no other skills but fighting. No passions, no home, no culture to rebuild. You and Hollow are free, but now what is left for you? Your Father had sacrificed your futures, not just your lives, and now you are feeling lost and separate from the bugs around you. They had all suffered through the plague, lost loved ones and homes. But they had passions and dreams to guide them and give them hope. You only have nightmares that keep dragging you into the past, making it impossible to look forward to the future.

“Who am I supposed to be, now?” you finish limply. The anger is gone, replaced with a choking sorrow. Your breathing feels thick and heavy. Hornet holds out a hand, hesitating before touching you to make it an offer, and you lean into it, letting her hand rest lightly between your shoulders.

“What the Pale King did, what he demanded of all of us, was unjust,” she said at last, an ember of her own rage warming her words. “There is nothing that can change that. You and Hollow and all the others deserved so much more. But Ghost,” she kneels so she can look into your mask with such honest ferocity that your breath hitches in your chest. “You are so much more than what our Father made you. You are not just a weapon or a tool. You never were. There is a future for us now, because of you. I know it will be had. It will be scary. Change always is. But we have each other – you, me, Hollow, all of Dirtmouth – we are all here to support each other. We are all learning and growing past everything that happened. I promise, none of us are going to leave you behind again.”

A tightness forms in your throat at her words and your vision blurs as that heaviness in your chest tightens. That promise to not be left behind again stirs a confusing blur of emotion that you can’t make any sense of. It doesn’t feel good, but it doesn’t feel bad either.

“Can I hug you?”

You nod and lean into her touch, the weight and warmth of your sister’s arms doing more to ground you that the rain. For once you feel … safe. Something inside you cracks, like an old shell you’ve grown too big for, and suddenly you’re crying. For everything you went through, for everything you lost, for everyone who didn’t survive to see the same light of freedom. You sob, clutching at Hornet’s cloak.

You finally let yourself mourn everything that brought you here.

And tentatively hope for everything that might come to be.

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

By @brimal-baspid​

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

By @martin-ftw​

The rain pours heavily in the city of tears.

The knight walks up to the fountain square. They look upon the fountain, where the Memorial to the Hollow Knight resides.

The knight inspects, "In the Black Vault far above. Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal." as Hornet dashes in with her needle.

"Again we meet little ghost." Hornet started, "... seek the Grave in Ash and the mark it would grant to one like you."

After finishing her guidance for the knight, she added, quietly, "Are you, perhaps, even a little, afraid?"

The water flows through the fountain endlessly, yet the knight remains emotionless.

Hornet giggles to herself, "hmmhmm, that's right, no voice to cry suffering, best of luck to your journeys little ghost."

After a few seconds of silence, Hornet raised her needle and hopped onto the ceiling.

The knight pauses, and dashes right to the opened door, leaving only the sounds of rain splashing the water fountain and flapping of wings from the lumaflies.

At the front door of the Pleasure House, the knight inserts the simple key and opens the door, walking in as Hornet follows. With the beautiful singing by Marissa, the knight goes on the long elevator ride as Hornet clings onto the elevator.

“About to learn your troubled past, aren't you little ghost?" Hornet asks inside the hot spring, while the knight sits on the bench.

The knight nods while opening their map and picking off one of those scarab markers, moving it to the bottom right of the map.

"Though I have underestimated your power, do you think you've got what it takes? To preserve the future of hallownest?" The knight does not know how to answer, they stand up from the bench and pack up their map.

"Exit's on the right, break the wall down to King's station," Hornet says while thinking to herself, could this one succeed? The knight swings their nail at the wall, breaking it open with a loud crack, and heads downwards.

Hornet sat in the spring by herself.

Guarding the cast-off shell is her job - she knows she has to fight the knight one more time, to ensure the knight is ready to finish their quest even after seeing their conception and past. She sighs, all rested, and stands up; knowing she's much faster than the knight in traversing the Hallownest, she raises her needle and swings out of the pleasure room, down to the Kingdom's edge she goes.

“Perhaps this one would be strong enough. They made it so far, don't fail me now little ghost" She quietly mumbles, before pointing her needle towards the entrance of the arena,

"So you'd pursue the deeper truth? It isn't one the weak could bear. Prove yourself ready to face it. I'll not hold back..."

With the wind blowing harder and louder in the edge of the world, the fight begins, the sentinel of a fading land and the vessel to save Hallownest.

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

By @potentialforart​

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

By @starstress​

They crouch, body full of tension, and they stare on ahead at their target. The platform is right there, waiting for them like a pedestal.

They jump.

Soaring through the air, quick and steady, they reach out, claws stretched and yearning.

There, they think. Right there.

And as the edge comes right by them, confidence blooms inside their chest, sure that they'll reach it. Their outstretched claws brush by a single tiny pristine leaf, one in a dozen, green and lush. It bounces right back into place as they are claimed by gravity.

They fall onto the lower platform, the moss softening their landing. They look up, and disappointment is a small bitter ball in their stomach, but they brush it aside. The stone edge they were aiming for now looms above them unforgiving. They will not let it discourage them, they will try again.

They want to know. They need to know. Who that red-clothed bug was, and why they felt such a pull to her.

----

Through stretching lush highways and seeming ceilingless and bottomless caverns, they push onwards. They’re spurred ever on by glimpses of rushing red, pale horns and swishing silk.

They would have expected the constant green to become monotonous by the time they reach a bench locked behind a gate, guiding them ever higher, but the shrub and moss-covered land surprises them still. From keeping them on high alert constantly and mercilessly, to undeniably charming them through towering leaf-embroidered architecture and statues, simple but beautiful blooms filling the air with glittering pollen, and soft chimes of birdsong, Greenpath has carved a spot in their heart that they can’t believe can ever be topped.

Still on they go, for though they wish to properly explore, they know that that can wait. They heal themselves, fill in the map with all the paths and twists and turns that they have crossed, put on the few charms that they have gathered, and stand up. They look ever upwards and hope they’re drawing closer to wherever the red-clothed person might be leading them.

----

There--

They rush forward, into the air and off the moss-covered stone ledge, eyes locked onto the red figure. Behind them, a gate slams closed, but though the sound echoes in the small clearing, they pay it no mind.

They land on steady feet, leaf softening the sound of their fall.

There she is--

They've found her.

The red-cloaked bug, in all her stern and decisive figure.

She is encompassed by engraved and moss-covered pillars of stone, but still she towers over them, despite only being about twice their own height.

Her dark eyes, but not as dark as theirs, no one with as dark as theirs, never, track their every move, ready to act, ready to cut down. They stare at her and she stares at them, a contest of wills.

She raises her blade - her needle - and they rush to mirror her.

Soft light streams down, from in between greenery, though they not know not its source, and halos her in pale light.  And though this is their first proper encounter with her, the red bug feels familiar, like they know her mask, the shape of her eyes, like they once gazed, even briefly, upon those features in a past life.

Nevertheless, her stance is rigid and unforgiving.

No further, her eyes scream even before she deems them worthy of words, no further I will allow you, until you prove yourself.

They tighten their grip upon their nail, and shove back into their void all pangs of sadness. This is a fight for their life, and, more than ever, a fight for their existence.

Maybe, after they defeat her, they can ask her why she feels like family - lost, but found again.

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

By @dovalore​

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

By @jonsilverstone​

https://soundcloud.com/jachym-hajek/vanilla-1-july-21-jon-silverstone-hornet-v-hollow/s-8IcY8UIzrtg

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

By @alaska-ren-works​

“Do you want to just fulfill the wyrm’s standards or do you want to make me proud, Princess of Hallownest?”

Hornet tightened her needle’s grip and lowered her stance. Heart calm and mind steady, she didn’t feel the rise of a subtle smirk on her face. This was her moment she had trained for in the Hive. Not to be the pale wyrm’s spawn, but to be the Daughter of Deepnest.

“You will see my answer soon, Mother.”

Weavers and bugs alike stood in solemn excitement as Herrah, Beast and Queen of Deepnest, circled the princess. Her white mask hid her emotions, but Hornet could more than feel the queen’s wide grin. Herrah twirled her own needle in her hand, a feat that impressed Hornet to no end as that very needle was longer than she was tall.

“Very well.” With a final step, Herrah faced Hornet with her needle at the ready. “You know the rules and so do I.”

Hornet nodded. As the lower-ranked of the two, Hornet must make the first move. Everyone and everything turned still. Watching. Waiting.

With a resolute bang of a drum, Hornet yelled, “Garama!”

The crowd roared with the start of the duel, but Hornet only heeded her opponent. She speared her needle forward and as Herrah jumped away, she reeled it back. Herrah dodged the attack and closed in on Hornet. The young spider darted away right before Herrah’s needle slashed through the space she just left.

When it came to brute strength, Hornet would lose in an instant. But she was smaller, faster, and more agile. If she could avoid a direct hit, she might have a chance at winning this.

Hornet rolled away as another strike whistled too close for her liking. She slashed her needle upwards, forcing Herrah to jump back. Taking this, she jumped into the air and released a storm of silk.

When her feet landed, Herrah slammed into her. Her breath wrenched out of her chest as she flew then skidded on the floor. It was a miracle she was still on her feet. With her head bent, she did not see the pride glimmer in her mother’s eyes before the queen composed herself.

Herrah’s head turned when the ravelling of silk sounded above her. The whistling of an incoming needle alerted her and the Beast parried Hornet’s thrust.

In Herrah’s moment of distraction, Hornet covered the arena in sticky silk traps. Now, this was where Hornet shines. She darted between the silk

strands and rushed at Herrah, the bigger spider now pressed for space. Strikes and slashes were landed and blocked, and Herrah growled. The next second Hornet rushed in, Herrah took hold of her and used her momentum to throw her far. Hornet flipped in the air but stumbled on her landing. Looking up, Herrah’s needle swung in a wide arc, destroying the nearby threads.

Mother and daughter studied each other from opposite ends of the arena. Hornet felt fatigue settle in her bones and her lungs struggled with big gulps of air. Herrah stood tall and her giant nail held steady, but Hornet could see her chest moving quickly.

“What do you think about heading over to the hotspring after this, huh?” Hornet’s eyes widened at Herrah’s invitation.

“Y-yes, Mother!” Hornet reddened at her stuttering voice. She cast out her exhaustion and readied her stance.

Herrah grinned as she raised her needle once more. “Then let’s make this worth it.”

[xaharadesert]

Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI - Headcanon Pt 1

Arcana Characters (Julian, Portia, Lucio) x MC

A/N: This one is another request from the lovely @firefly-child! The premise is pretty much exactly what the title of this post entails— an immortal MC who’s first lover (the LI of your choosing) is reincarnated every time they die! It takes about 20 or so years for MC to find them every time they’re reincarnated, and they have no memory of their past lives. This time, they’ve met in Vesuvia, and LI is about to find out the whole truth! For the sake of continuity, MC is the “never-aging” kind of immortal, and can die. This is set after they completely regain their memories, probably a couple years after the main plot.

Also, thank you for everyone who has been patient about my absence! I lose motivation easily, and with my summer reading assignment finally arriving, I was pretty preoccupied. Actual school is starting up soon as well, and seeing as this is my final year of grade school, I’ll likely be really busy. Regardless, this is my second to last request in my inbox, even though I’ve divided it into two parts to hopefully motivate me. Please feel free to send in a request, and please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

TW: mentions of death

❤️Julian❤️

Okay, so magic in general is something that Julian had always been skeptical about

But immortality? That’s a whole new level of disbelief

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, that’s just… a bit much for him to comprehend all at once

It would take a while for him to come to terms with it, but he warms up to the idea faster if you’re the type of person to tell stories about your past adventures

As someone who has traveled around the world himself, hearing new perspectives on the old folk tales he had heard during his adventures certainly opens his eyes to new possibilities

When he realizes that your knowledge is probably far greater than any other living beings he would be relentless in asking every question he could possibly think of

Even if you never actually bothered to learn much about any particular subject in your past, even a small scrap of seemingly inconspicuous information could lead to a major breakthrough (or so Julian claims)

So imagine his surprise when you add on the fact that Julian himself used to have the same knowledge and experiences himself

Again, the idea that reincarnation was part of the cycle of life for ordinary mortals was… a lot to process

If coming to terms with your immortality was hard for him, this would be near impossible

He doesn’t mean to offend you, but are you sure that he’s a reincarnation? What if you’re simply projecting your grief and creating a delusion to cope with your loss? Again, he doesn’t ask these questions to offend you, he just can’t accept the fact that he had lived previous lives

Out of all the LIs, Julian would be the most likely to reject the idea of being a reincarnation of your first love

Once again, it wasn’t out of malevolence, he just couldn’t understand— there were too many questions to ask

Was every human reincarnated? Would you be reincarnated if you died? But you did die, and you were brought back, so how did that happen? How did you manage to continue finding him every lifetime? If he looked the same as he did in his original life, how come he had never come across his own adventures or discoveries in some book?

Another, more malicious voice in his head asked another question— were you really in love with him? Or were you in love with the person you had expected him to be?

The two of you would need quite a few heart to hearts to sort through these questions and feelings, although you may not have an answer to every one

In the end, Julian might never completely accept the fact that he was a reincarnation of your first love (seeing as he had to memories to prove it), but it didn’t make him love you any less

The two of you would be happy together for as long as he would live, and then you would be happy together in his next life, whether he believed it or not

🧡Portia🧡

Going back to what I’ve said in previous posts about an immortal MC, Portia is 100% of the mindset that your immortality is the Coolest! Thing!! Ever!!!

She has no trouble believing you about that part, because honestly, the more magic surrounds her, the happier she is

A large part of her had always wanted as much magic in her life as possible, even if Julian had always insisted there was no such thing, and every time you revealed a bit more of your abilities to her, she only seemed to become more excited

She loves hearing about your past, especially any magical adventures you may have gone on

And when you finally reveal to her that she’s a reincarnation of your first lover?

She is beyond ecstatic

Of course, her first question is about whether or not she had magic in one of her past lives, and if so, can you please teach it to her again?

She wants to know everything about herself and her past lives with you, as long as you’re willing to tell her

Portia, as someone who firmly believes in soulmates, thinks that yours is the greatest and most epic love story ever now, thank you very much

In all honesty, after finding out that she’ll be reincarnated once she dies, she becomes a bit more reckless, so you’ll need to remind her that even though her soul will always return, her memories won’t

She tries to be a bit more careful after that

Emphasis on tries

There are a couple of moments when she feels sad that she can’t fully recall her past with you

She feels as though the two of you will always be a bit out of sync, seeing as you will always know more about her than she does of you

You’ll need to try your best to help her sort through these feelings, because she may try to simply repress them otherwise

But even with occasional doubts, Portia is thrilled to know that she has the most magical soulmate to ever exist

💛Lucio💛

Lucio wouldn’t doubt your immortality for a second, and probably wouldn’t wait any more than that before announcing it to everyone he met

Everyone had to know that you were the most magical, most amazing, most brilliant person to ever exist

He would not hesitate to tell grand stories about your adventures to anyone who would listen, often describing the two of you together in battle

You would have to gently remind him that no, most of the stories he told were not true

You’ll have to forgive him for that, he may have gotten a bit carried away with the excitement of having an immortal partner

However, this won’t stop him from aggrandizing whatever tales you do tell

It doesn’t matter how exciting or boring your life has been, when he repeats what you’ve told him to others, he always makes everything seem infinitely more wondrous than it actually was

Now, you will have had to wait a bit before telling him any more, seeing as he’s a bit overexcitable, so it may be quite a while before you continue on to tell him that he’s a reincarnation of your first love

Now that? That makes him short-circuit a bit

Obviously he had always known that he was amazing and incredible and the best at everything— but now you’re telling him that he can return from the dead?

You’ll have to remind him that no, that’s not quite how it works, because he forgets his past lives whenever he’s brought back

He has the same soul, but he’s not necessarily the same person

This seems to disappoint him a bit, but once you reassure him that you’ll love him in every lifetime, he seems to perk up

Of course you would love him, he’s perfect no matter who he is

He wants you to tell him everything you know about who he was in the past

You’ll probably have to be a bit selective about what you say though, seeing as his pride is more easily wounded than he’s willing to admit

Lucio especially loves to hear about the good things he’s done, his more selfless acts

Knowing that he used to be a good person makes him feel as though redemption is more achievable, although he’d probably never admit that out loud

He’s not one to be insecure about how your current relationship compares to your previous ones— he’s confident in the magic of soulmates, and that the two of you are a perfect match in any lifetime

[robininthelabyrinth]

LXC is the legal guardian and adopter for LSZ or LJY, and NMJ has questions.

part 2 of the LJY-adopted-by-LQR fic (now also on ao3)

-

“So, did I knock you up before I went to war or something?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Because I feel like you should’ve mentioned it if that was the case. Possibly in a letter.”

Lan Xichen was so tired that it took him a solid minute to parse what was wrong with that sentence and how to respond, and it was not by following his first instinct to apologize that he should’ve written better letters.

“Stop making fun of me,” he said instead, groping towards some measure of dignity.

Sadly, dignity was in very short supply when you were taking care of babies. Multiple babies. Well, one baby and one toddler, which was somehow worse?

Lan Xichen was pretty sure they’d figured out how to time their crying off each other.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue said, like a liar, and then he picked up little Jingyi and – Lan Xichen simply cannot find another way to put it – shook him, in a manner not unlike testing a melon for freshness.

For some reason, this made Lan Jingyi stop crying and start making snuffling little giggles instead.

“How did you do that?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes wide.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue tucked the baby into the crook of his arm and scooped up some food off the table, offering it to him, and Lan Jingy actually ate it. “Xichen, are you feeling all right?”

“Shhh!” Lan Xichen hissed, eyes fixed on the baby, which was neither spitting up everything nor wailing as if his heart was broken. “No unnecessary noise during meals.”

Nie Mingjue snorted in amusement. “Sure,” he said amiably, in the tone Lan Xichen had long ago learned meant ‘nice rules you’ve got there, it’d be an awful shame if someone found a loophole in them’. “This isn’t a meal, though; it’s just a snack.”

Lan Xichen eyed the still-not-crying Lan Jingyi and decided that now was not the time for a spirited debate on the virtues of discipline and fulfilling the merits rather than the word of a rule.

“Where’s monster number one gone?” Nie Mingjue asked abruptly. “He must be very good at hiding, because I looked away for a blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes slowly dropped down to where a cloth-covered lump was not-so-sneakily edging towards Nie Mingjue’s foot.

Nie Mingjue was one of the foremost front line fighters of their generation, and possibly the previous one as well. His physical ability was matched only by his incredibly keen senses.

There was no way he was not aware of the lump.

“It’s a real shame, too,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I was planning on doing a test of how far you can throw children, but I think monster two here’s a bit too small to make the test worthwhile. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be –”

You can’t throw children, Lan Xichen was about to say, except Lan Sizhui was tearing off the tablecloth and jumping up in excitement, shouting, “Here! Here! I’m here! I’m big enough! You can throw me!”

“Why does he want to be thrown,” Lan Xichen murmured, bewildered. He’d never wanted to be thrown around as a child. Had he?

In fairness, he wasn’t sure. No one had ever offered.

Apparently, though, Lan Sizhui did very much want to be thrown around, and Lan Jingyi even condescended to allow Lan Xichen to hold him while he watched.

“Higher! Higher!” Lan Sizhui shouted.

“Really? Is this high enough?” Nie Mingjue held him up at eye level.

“Higher!”

“Like this?” Above his head.

“Higher!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“All right. How about –” Baxia slithered out from her place by the door, zipping over until she was right in front of Nie Mingjue, allowing him to step onto her like a stair, and then zipping upwards to about hip-height, lifting Nie Mingjue and Lan Sizhui with her. They very nearly hit a tree branch with their heads. “– this?”

Lan Sizhui shrieked with laughter.  

“It’s too early to introduce them to flying,” Lan Xichen objected, because it was. “Mingjue-xiong…”

Nie Mingjue hopped down with a laugh. “All right, one last toss,” he told Lan Sizhui. “Then you nap. Okay?”

“Okay!” Lan Sizhui, who had never once willingly succumbed to naptime in the entirety of the time that Lan Xichen had known him, promised earnestly.

Back into the pile of soft grass he went, giggling the entire time, and amazingly enough he really did fall asleep afterwards. Lan Jingyi, too, had fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve decided that your brother needs more experience running a sect,” Lan Xichen told Nie Mingjue, who raised his eyebrows. “Starting immediately. I promise to allow you to leave when Jingyi is, oh, shall we say five years old..?”

You could reason with a five year old. 

Nie Mingjue laughed.

It was a type of laugh that suggested that he thought Lan Xichen was making a joke. This was incorrect.

“You’d be amazed at how serious I am,” Lan Xichen told him threateningly, “I’m sect leader here, this is my territory, I can have you arrested any time –” but by that point Nie Mingjue was already bundling him off to bed, too, combing out his hair and plying him with snacks and –

This was not helping his argument that Lan Xichen should be allowing him to leave rather than keep him trapped in the Cloud Recesses as a babysitter-slash-love-slave. 

Well, he wouldn’t really do that, of course. He’d let him go. Eventually.

It’d probably be good for Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, honestly.

“Seriously, though, how did you do that?” he asked, his head on Nie Mingjue’s lap. “They didn’t cry once.”

“I’m good with kids,” Nie Mingjue said, his fingers digging into Lan Xichen’s scalp in just the right way. “Now can you explain to me how exactly you ended up with them? Two, no less?”

Lan Xichen groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. “Sizhui’s Wangji’s,” he explained. “Not biologically, but he’s put his name down in the family register under his own. But, you know…”

“I know.”

Lan Xichen appreciated that he didn’t need to go into it. The doctors had estimated that Lan Wangji would regain full mobility within three years, so that was the period the elders had mandated for his so-called ‘seclusion’, but with Lan Wangji being locked away like that – even with visitors, even though he was trying his hardest to care for the child from where he was – meant that someone had to care for the child’s day-to-day life until his brother was ready to resume the role.

“Jingyi is a cousin, I think,” he continued. “His parents are dead, and uncle accepted guardianship for him…I think he’s going to adopt him, actually.”

“Then why is he with you?”

“I volunteered.”

“Xichen, I say this with a full heart of affection and tremendous respect for your capabilities,” Nie Mingjue said. “But why in the world would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Lan Xichen sighed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t stupid – he was, quite obviously, terrible with children.

“Uncle’s still injured from the war,” he admitted. In fact, his injury was probably even older than the war, dating as far back as the burning of the Cloud Recesses – his uncle had never been much of a fighter, his impressive cultivation strength stemming almost entirely from gentler arts like music and learning and meditation, but when his home and his family and his students were at risk, he’d fought, while Lan Xichen ran. Not just fought; he’d kept fighting long past the point that his body allowed. It only made sense for the bill to need to be paid. “He had a recurrence of an old complaint, not long ago; he started coughing up blood. The doctors insisted that he try to avoid anything that might cause him  stress.”

“Stress. Like, say, a rowdy infant?”

“Exactly like a rowdy infant,” Lan Xichen agreed, glad that Nie Mingjue did not mention that what had happened with Lan Wangji was also likely a source of stress. At least the two of them had slowly started to repair their relationship recently – the heartbreak would kill their uncle sooner than anything else, and Lan Xichen might be weak, but he really couldn’t tolerate the idea of suffering any more loss.

And also, if Lan Wangji could see his way to forgiving their uncle, he might one day agree to forgive Lan Xichen, too.

“I see. So you ended up with the little one, too.”

“Yes. And they hate me.” Nie Mingjue coughed a little. “No, don’t deny it. They clearly hate me. They always cry and spit and yell -”

“They’re children, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. “Traumatized children. They do that.”

Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Nie Mingjue was frowning in memory of pain long past. Lan Xichen remembered, with painful clarity, how young Nie Huaisang had been when Lao Nie had died, how badly he had taken it.

There’d been a lot of crying and vomiting and yelling there as well.

“You’re good with kids,” Lan Xichen said instead of commenting, trading delicacy for delicacy; he would not touch Nie Mingjue’s still-bleeding wounds just as Nie Mingjue avoided his own. “Very good.”

“Well, I like to think so, anyway.”

They remained in blissful, comfortable silence for a while.

“How would it have even worked?” Lan Xichen finally asked. His eyes were still closed, Nie Mingjue’s fingers running through his hair; he never wanted to move again.

“Hmm?”

“If you knocked me up before you went to war. I mean, they’re not even the same age.”

“Well, one of them’s from the affair, obviously.”

“I’m sorry, am I cheating on you now?” Lan Xichen opened an eye and pinned Nie Mingjue with a fierce look that instructed his lover to reconsider.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, mock-solemnly. His eyes were dancing. “You were so distraught after receiving incorrect news of my untimely demise that you conducted a ghost marriage with my spirit, and then went and had a child to continue my name.”

“…they’re both surnamed Lan.”

“So what? Are you saying I’m not good enough to marry into your sect, is that it?”

Lan Xichen’s cheeks were hurting from trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of implying such a thing.”

“There you go, then.”

“Can I ask why I felt the need to have a child to continue your name if I had one already?”

“…well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lan Xichen burst out laughing.

[juniorgman187]

Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away.  Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere. 

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat. 

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for. 

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t. 

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her. 

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself. 

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went. 

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting. 

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her. 

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity. 

It was just plain concern. 

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case). 

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before. 

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.” 

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further. 

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation. 

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week. 

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month. 

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created. 

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother. 

And a damn good one at that. 

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception. 

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded. 

This would be our first flight without her. 

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.” 

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show. 

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered. 

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek. 

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes. 

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.” 

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits. 

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me. 

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly. 

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.” 

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant. 

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.” 

_ _ _

“Reid?” 

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought. 

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything. 

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her. 

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?” 

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.” 

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.” 

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence. 

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently. 

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone. 

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.” 

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it. 

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now. 

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia. 

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia. 

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave. 

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave. 

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.  

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!” 

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year. 

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained. 

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises. 

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever. 

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[annie-blackhill]

Aight, I know that I've been away for awhile but now I'm back and I have ideas babes!

____________________________________

Warnings:

Depression

Anxiety

Past panic attacks

Mentions of past domestic violence

Abusive childhood

Post traumatic events unconscious coping mechanisms

Unconscious flinching out of instinct

Sudden panic when hearing fighting between a man and a woman screaming very near

Loss of breath

Domestic violence

Blood

Panic attack

____________________________________

Dazai Osamu

________________

Safe and Sound

________________

Dazai and (Y/N) have been in a relationship for two years now. They're so in love with each other that everyone at the ADA are questioning the fact as to why they weren't married yet.

Dazai really loves (Y/N) and she loves him just as much back. They both really love each other and they both understand each other the most too.

But there were still some things that Dazai didn't know.

The main reason why (Y/N) and Dazai weren't married yet was because Dazai wanted to get her parents' blessings first. He was so excited to get their blessings, to meet the people who brought his perfectly imperfect lover into this cruel, tainted world.

He was eternally grateful to them for bringing her into this world, although the cruel world had tainted her and made her the broken person she is now, he still loves her for her. She's the only reason he has to live now. And he loves her for that.

Whenever Dazai asked (Y/N) about her family, she would tell him stories about when she was a child and how her dad would bring them to the beach every weekend because they lived near to the beach or when they went back to school shopping together.

But that was it. Her dad never really appeared in her other stories much. He would pop in at some point of the tale and then disappear. Her mum, was mostly the one to witness her achievements.

But (Y/N) has never described her parents' proud expressions whenever she achieved something.

At times, when Dazai did pry lightly, she would turn the story somewhere else, mostly to her friends.

He knew that she didn't really have a good primary school life, seeing as she's told him before that she's been bullied at that time. She's described them as the loneliest years of her life and how much she's hated herself those times.

Whenever (Y/N) talked about friends, it would be about her friends from her high school life. Her high school was much more on the better side.

She had been a prefect in her high school years, since her first year to her last year.

The only bad memories she had was when she realized that being in the first class and being the top of the class meant the other students would sabotage her and the two times in her senior years where she had to fight back as self-defense when she tried to break up a fight and they started to hit her too.

Dazai wasn't daft. Of course, he picked up on all the signs she showed that she wasn't really fond of her parents.

At first, he thought that it was just because of a small fight they had. But two years have passed in their relationship and (Y/N) hasn't cracked even the least to tell him why her childhood stories are only until a certain age or why she's never told him how proud her parents were of her.

Dazai was worried. In the end, he decided that maybe her parents just have a slightly tight relationship with each other.

Dazai decided to not ask. He let it slide and slip past them. He never touched the subject of her parents for the half of the second year of their relationship.

As the other half year of their relationship rolled in, Dazai and (Y/N) had saved enough money to buy a cozy little apartment near the ADA and move out of the ADA's hostel.

The day they were moving in, the couple were greeted by the middle aged woman who lived next door with her husband and 4 year old daughter.

She had been a very sweet auntie that welcome the sweet couple to the apartment complex with open arms and a sweet smile.

More than once had she cooked good food for the duo since they always returned late from work.

"You two kinda remind me of how my husband and I used to be when we were younger and so in love," the auntie would say to the duo all the time.

The little 4 year old would also come by and play around with the loving couple whenever they were on leave.

Auntie would always try persuade her daughter from "disturbing the lovely young couple" as she would always say to her daughter.

"It's alright, auntie! I love kids! (N/N)-chan and I are planning to have a few little munchkins like this when we're married too!" Dazai would assure her, while playing with the little girl.

But there was always something about how (Y/N) would send the auntie knowing looks as though she knew something that he didn't all the time, so he decided to pay more attention too.

When Dazai did start to notice more, he noticed the dark bags under the auntie's eyes and he noticed how tired she always was.

The more he noticed the more concerning she looked to him day by day.

"Auntie, would you like to join us for tea, today? Osamu and I wanted to play with that sweet little angel," (Y/N) invited the auntie.

"WHO'S THAT AT THE DOOR???!!!" the booming voice of the male from inside the auntie's house shook (Y/N) to the core and it ignited old memories that she didn't have to remember.

"Auntie, you really should come. Osamu insists! You know how he gets when he doesn't get what he wants! He'll be whining all day long like a little baby!" (Y/N) tried to convince the auntie discreetly.

"I ASKED 'WHO'S THAT AT THE DOOR'! ANSWER ME YOU USELESS WOMAN!!!" the man shouted from the bedroom again.

(Y/N) flinched. She was regretting sending Dazai to the store now. They had been running low on groceries and she had sent Dazai to the store, as she would say "please contribute you're lazy arse to do something in this household, my love" and he had carried his lazy arse to the store near the apartment complex.

After Dazai had left was when she started to hear the shouts and yells from the next door auntie's house.

Even as the bad memories plunged her being, she had forced herself to go and at least try to save the auntie before anything bad happened to either her or her daughter.

But even then, if you looked closely at (Y/N) you could see that she was trembling badly and that she could barely stand on her two feet.

"Auntie, come on please!" (Y/N) begged in a mutter exclamation.

"I'm sorry," the auntie murmured before closing the door on her with an apologetic smile.

"Auntie, no!" (Y/N) exclaimed.

And that was when she heard the terrible screams and the yell. The cries of the little 4 year old teared her soul apart into the smallest of pieces.

"NO, NO, NO!!!!" (Y/N) yelled as her mind turned blank and the memories flooded her brain.

Her mind turned so blank that she forgot that she was slamming her fists onto the door and that she had an ability.

The memories of how her father would come home drunk and lay on the sofa. Of how her mother had found out that he was having an affair. Of how, he would beat the living daylights out of her mother.

(Y/N) never told Dazai any of that. She felt ashamed to tell him that her childhood was the most terrible thing to ever happen to her.

A blood curdling screamed pierced the air along with a loud cry and that was enough for (Y/N) to snap out of her traumas and remember that there were lives on the stake right now.

She finally regained her senses fully and remembered that she has an ability.

Using her elemental abilities, she bent the wooden front door so much that it broke it half and broke off of it's hinges. The lower half flew to the side of the corridor almost hitting her while the other half flew into the house and hit the middle aged aggressive man that was about to beat his wife over the head with a glass flower vase.

The auntie stood in shock as the younger woman ran to her and hugged her.

"Auntie! Are you alright?! Are you bleeding anywhere?! Do you have any fatal injuries?!" (Y/N) questioned quickly as she held the shorter's woman's face in her hands and looked her over, making sure that she wasn bleeding anywhere majorly.

"Why you little freak show! You must one of those freak shows that are born with those little abilities! How dare you interfere with someone else's family problems?! Youngsters these days don't know how to respect their elders! Let me teach you then!" the man yelled at (Y/N) as she stood in front of the trembling woman, making sure that the older woman was perfectly hidden behind her.

(Y/N) slipped a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. She clutched the holster of her gun.

"Step away, right now before I seriously hurt you," (Y/N) warned as she held her left hand out to stop him from coming any nearer to them.

The man took off his belt and folded it into two, straightening it out with a snap, which caused both women to flinch as more dark memories flooded into (Y/N)'s mind.

"I said STOP RIGHT THERE!" (Y/N) warned yet again. It was against the law for her to shoot him and she couldn't even use her abilities against him as he was a normal civilian.

She was trying her best to not hurt anyone here and let the civilian authorities handle the ruthless man.

The moment the man raised his arm was the same time (Y/N) slipped her gun out of her back pocket and shot his arm.

The man let out a cry of pain and fell back from the sudden pain. He looked at the younger woman, wide eyed as she held the gun tight and pointed the barrel to his forehead.

"Armed Detective Agency member, (L/N) (Y/N)," (Y/N) announced as she showed him her ADA card.

The man backed away more at that. His eyes wide as he realized that she was a member of the authorities.

"(Y/N)?!" Dazai shouted as he entered only to see the bloodied situation of the man and the two trembling women.

"Where's the child?!" Dazai asked immediately.

"Sh-she's in her room," the auntie answered meekly.

Dazai nodded. He looked down at the man, disgust, venom and a desire to kill clear on his face.

The man even then, still tried to gain Dazai's pity as Dazai was a fellow man too.

"S-sir! All I was trying to do was educate my wife to be more better and obedient! I wasn't trying to do anything other than that! I swear!" the man said.

That only made Dazai even more disgusted as he spat on the man's face in disgust. He stomped his foot harshly on the man's hand that was holding the belt.

"You disgust me you old fool! You're an utter disgrace of a human being! I'm disgusted to see people like you are still alive! Terrorizing women's lives! Making them only feel like obedient dolls that should only do whatever you say!

I'd rather kill you then let you go to jail and then get back out after a few months! People like you shouldn't exist at all in the first place!

Your wife is supposed to be your life partner! Not some maid or toy that would do everything you say! You're supposed to live life and do everything together!

I can't believe you even had a child with her only to state your dominance over her and make her unable to run away from you!

You disgust me!" Dazai yelled at the man as he twisted his foot on the man's hand more and stomped it over and over and over again, intent on breaking it.

(Y/N) shielded the auntie's sight form her lover's rage as he broke the man's hand and rendered it completely shattered under his shoe.

"Osamu..." (Y/N) called out for him.

Dazai raised his head to look at his lover, tears streaming from his eyes from utter pure white hot rage.

"Are you alright? Are the two of you alright? Is that little angel injured?" Dazai's voice turned so soft that (Y/N)'s heart broke at the mere sound of it. He sounded as scared as she was feeling.

Dazai went over to the two women and squeezed them into a light hug, he buried his face into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. (Y/N) hugged his waist, her arm practically limp, but her hand still clutching the gun tight just in case the man tried anything, her ear was placed against his frantically beating heart.

The older woman had wrapped her arm over his back and was hugging him tight, scared out of her life and grateful for the presence of the two youngsters at the moment.

"Osamu... We need to call the police and the ADA, specifically Kunikida-san. We need to explain a hell load to them all," (Y/N) murmured lightly to the shaken man.

Dazai nodded lightly at her statement before pressing a light kiss to the crook of her neck and removing himself from the hold of the two women.

"Auntie, do get your little girl and wait outside of the house. (Y/N) and I will call the police and our co-worker to handle the mess here," Dazai informed the older woman.

She merely nodded, not trusting her voice to be strong enough to answer him as she went to the little girl's bedroom to get her out of the house.

Once the child and woman were safely out of the house, Dazai dialed Kunikida while (Y/N) dialed the police station.

Both at had arrived at the house. The man was brought away on a stretcher by the paramedics as (Y/N) was explaining to the police as to why she had used her gun.

Kunikida and Dazai, both standing on either side of her, trying to justify the reason as to why she did so and the police accepted the reasons in the end.

Dazai said his end of the story and then they moved on to ask the wife and the child about their ends of the story.

"(Y/N), you know you shouldn't have used your gun. I'll have to confiscate it for now. You'll only be allowed to use it on missions. I'm sorry but those are the rules that you need to follow after that little act of 'misusage' as the police says," Kunikida sighed as he took the gun lightly from her slightly slackened grasp on it now.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was scared and he raised the belt above me, ready to hit at any moment---" her voice cracked and she couldn't continue the sentence anymore.

Kunikida held her hand softly as Dazai brought (Y/N) into a soft side hug, holding her softly and rubbing her shoulders.

"I know and that's why I'm the one that's supposed to be saying sorry for taking away your gun, (Y/N)," Kunikida said.

"Hey, hey. It's alright, the both of you. I'll pull some strings here and there and make sure, (Y/N) gets her gun back, alright? Easy peasy!" Dazai lightened the mood up a little.

"Sigh, thank you, Dazai. For making this easier for all of us," Kunikida said before excusing himself, saying that he needs to fill out a few more forms at the police station and make sure that neither Dazai or (Y/N) get accused for anything that they didn't do.

Dazai proceeded to lead (Y/N) back to their little home as the auntie and her daughter were led to the second ambulance by the new paramedics.

(Y/N) leaned into Dazai as she curled up onto him. He held her close and tight, knowing full well that she was shaken up from the encounter.

"Osamu... Remember how you always asked for the truth about my childhood... What you witnessed today that was happening to that auntie and her daughter? That's the real truth to my childhood.

But no one saved us. And as I grew and my dad lived his other life with his little affair, he would come and go to let off steam on my mother and my mother started to blame me for how miserable our lives were.

That's why I never had a past occupation like everyone else. I had been working with the ADA ever since I was 18 and I ran away from her.

The president helped me. He helped my mother by providing her safety and a new home.

My father is still out there, somewhere with that other woman.

And I... I've never seen my mother since the day I ran away. She must be happier now," (Y/N) said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Dazai hugged her closer and kissed her forehead.

"It's alright, love. You have me and the other ADA members for you as well now. Hell, even the Port Mafia is with you right now after how much you helped them out when we were all having trouble with The Guild and Fyodor. You have all of us here for you.

Most importantly, my love, you have me. I won't let anyone so much as hurt you even a little bit and go off the hook.

I swear," Dazai murmured softly into her ear and she snuggled closer to him, their feets touching and their hands interwined with each other's.

____________________________________

"Port Mafia strikes again as a man who was arrested yesterday due to commiting domestic violence was murdered by them brutally in his own jail cell much to the surprise of all the police officers present.

Police officers were considering requesting the Armed Detective Agency to further an investigation at first, but has now decided against it as the chief of the police station has deemed it as a waste since the man was a criminal," the news reporter announced on the morning news as (Y/N) sipped her (bitter/sweet/neutral) (coffee/tea) and Dazai adorable chewed his crab sandwich.

"Who did you ask to do it?" (Y/N) asked immediately as soon as Dazai swallowed.

"Chuuya was more than willing after I told him the story. I didn't even have to tell him which police station and cell that scum was in, he ran off and figured it all out himself and finished the job," Dazai answered before continuing to adorably eat his crab sandwich.

"That scum deserved it," (Y/N) agreed as she continue sipping her (coffee/tea).

____________________________________

Awareness Note:

Stop domestic violence. The pain lingers on even after the relationship has ended. No one should have to be bounded to a spouse that only views them as an object and an inferior instead of a human being and an equal. No one has to go through physical and mental pain with a monster that prefers to take control of everything. No one has to go through such pain.

Marriage isn't pain! Marriage is a bond of two people who love each other!

If it hurts both physically and mentally, then it's not love.

Know the difference.