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ask-de-writer · 2 years

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FIENDSHIP IS MAGIC (Part 53 of ?) 18+ readers only (sex scenes)

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FIENDSHIP IS MAGIC

Making Fiends and Influencing Ponies

An Anthro *Tail* of the Mane Six

Part 53 of ? (Work in Progress)

De Writer

58588 words (story in progress)

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This story is age restricted to 18

years or older!

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the start HERE

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Celestia offered the priests a folder. “This contains the evidence that we have gathered regarding Charge One, Sedition against the Principality of Ponyville and the Kingdom of Equestria.”

The confounded priests stared at the damning images of them and the “stinkbug brigade” attacking the doors with sledge hammers and the battering ram! In the notes accompanying the images were direct transcripts of them calling for the destruction of the place by smashing and fire. It was noted as well that the address of the attack, 103 Friend Road, was the side stage doors of the Palace of Friendship, Seat of Government of the Principality of Ponyville and residence of Princess Twilight Sparkle.

Reverend Tightcollar read the notes in horror! “Your Highnesses, we had no idea that this was the Royal Palace! How could you allow it to be used for such a horrible gigantic act of public lewdness?”

Twilight replied dryly, “Are you in the habit of attacking places without knowing what they are?”

“We had information that there was going to be a huge act of public lewdness at the establishment at the end of Pride Lane!”

Princess Luna snorted, “A. You dodged Princess Twilight's question. B. Are you seriously telling this Court that you did not so much as look at a map of the town of Ponyville when planning this crime?”

Reverend Sunshine retorted, “There was no crime! We were trying to prevent a huge act of public lewdness which is an evil that cannot be overlooked!”

Celestia giggled, “Trying to prevent the so called act of public lewdness is an evil that cannot be overlooked? I can agree to that!”

“Your Highness is twisting my words! You know what I meant!”

“Indeed I do, Reverend, however you are wrong in several ways. Let us begin with your claim of public lewdness. The venue, which will charge admission, verify age, and prevent any outside viewing of what happens inside, is Prima Facie, not public. As such, whatever acts may be performed on the stages inside are also not public.”

“Young ponies might sneak in by some ruse! Think of the Foals!”

“I am. If they do that, they are the ones committing the crime and therefore are the ones to be arrested, tried and punished according to the laws broken. Those are at the minimum, trespassing and the use of false identification. The venue and show will have done no wrong.

“This also applies to the five private clubs that you have instigated raids of. PRIVATE, NOT PUBLIC. You know it too. After looting them for the tips of the dancing mares, you let them go without making any charges or any official records of the robberies committed.”

Twilight interjected, “While true, these points veer away from the charge, which is Sedition. The attempt to destroy the government of the Principality. We have moving images with sound demonstrating the whole of the attack on my palace. For this charge, please stick to refuting the evidence and charge stemming from it.”

Reverend Afternoon winced as he offered, “We had what seemed a reliable tip. In fact, it was given to me. The tip included a map of where the act was to be performed and the Pride Lane approach to it. In hindsight, we should have looked deeper into the location with a street map. Attacking your Palace was not our intent.”

Twilight's eyebrows rose into her bangs. “Really? May I ask whose idea it was to bring a stolen Ponyville Police Force battering ram? Would you normally bring a battering ram to a raid? Why only this time?”

Reverend Tightcollar asked in a calculating tone, “Given that we were unaware that the place that we were tipped off to was your palace, and that we ought to have looked more carefully at where we were going, may we have a reduction of the charge of Sedition? We were not attempting to overthrow your government.”

Celestia, Luna and Twilight put their heads together. Twilight snickered, “We have some wonderful things in store for them. Sedition would put them over the Traitor's Drop. They will be paying for the balance for the rest of their lives. Attempted destruction of Royal property by force and arson?”

The Twins nodded, grinning diabolically. “Like the way that you think, Twi.”

Turning to the defendants, Celestia nodded, “We are agreed to drop the lethal charge of Sedition if you will plead guilty to attempted destruction of Royal property by force and arson.”

Tightcollar swallowed hard. “We will take the reduced charge, Your Highness. With the images that you have, our guilt on that is plain to see.”

All three Princesses nodded acceptance, “So ruled. We will not pronounce a verdict until all of the charges are dealt with.”

Celestia handed over another bulging file to Tightcollar. “These are witness statements given under a Bridge of Dream, relating to your tactics to raise a mob for the attempt on Royal property. There are 218 of them. Only a few were not coerced in some fashion. Most feared being 'put on the List.' None actually knew what that entailed. Most suspected priest Sunshine as the caller who threatened them. All agreed that they could not be certain of that.”

Priest Sunshine let out a sigh of relief. The others were digging through the file. Priest Tightcollar shook his head, pretty much all that he could do, considering not only the circumstances but the solid police horn cap preventing any use of magic.

He gestured to the file laying on top of the other one as he grumbled, “We did call ponies to come and help us in what we believed to be a holy task. Guilty.”

Twilight looked up from the strawberry filled pastry that she was nibbling on and put down her coffee. “So noted. We accept your guilty plea.

“Now about charge three, subverting officers of the Ponyville police to carry out your illegal 'raids' on lawful business of Ponyville. How do you plead?”

Tightcollar snarled, “Innocent. We did not subvert them. They came to us and asked how they could help us. More to the point, they wanted to know what was in it for them!”

Before the princesses could react, Pinkie, who was watching over the snacks and coffee sucked in a breath of surprise! “Oh! That sounds so like the Stinkbug Brigade! They always were ones to throw their weight around before you guys showed up!”

A chuckling Luna nodded to her fellow princesses. “Bridge of Dream confirms that! If they hadn't come to the Dawnguard Temple, it is likely that only some of this would have happened.”

Pinkie took advantage of the stunned silence to refresh snacks and coffee!

Celestia had a difficult time agreeing with the others because she was working her way through a butterscotch filled croissant!

Luna swallowed a bite of chocolate filled Bismark and pronounced, “This charge is reduced. You did accept their service, planned the raids and profited from their illegal activities carried out at your direction.”

Twilight sipped some coffee to clear her throat before presenting, “Charge four, the subversion of a judge of the Ponyville civil courts to carry out and conceal your assorted illegal activities. This judge also saw to the counting and distribution of the illegal gains from your assorted plots.”

Reverend Tightcollar looked through the file that Celestia gave him. “Drat! You got a lot of detail here. Thing is, while he worked for us, it was the officers who brought him to us. They had some sort of hold on him through some improper paperwork. We don't really know what that was. We did use him and let him have a share of the profits.

“I guess that makes us guilty of that one.”

The three princesses agreed, “It does indeed. Your guilt is formally noted.”

Princess Luna finished off a strawberry filled and chocolate topped cruller and read out, “Charge Five : Ordering the attempted theft and transfer of real estate by the use of forged and counterfeited warrants of seizure. Such warrants must have a royal seal and Princess Twilight was not notified of nor sealed the warrants, rendering them void.”

The until recently judge Horsefry snorted, “Don't see what the problem is! There was never any fuss before this!”

Twilight pounced on that at once! “Before this? You have done warrants of seizure or eviction without my seal before these?”

“Done them for Sir Snobbin Realty fairly often. If they was in a hurry to get the deadbeat tennants off the property. Just do the warrant and leave the date blank. Fix the date and put it into the next day's business for routine seals and all. All it done was save some time on the paperwork.”

Twilight actually put down her snacks and coffee to regard Horsefry through slitted eyes. She asked with the quiet of a serpent about to strike, “Do you have any idea why all seizures and evictions are required to have my seal before they can be served?”

He curled a lip as he replied, “So's you can be sure of getting your tax cut!”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

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#FIENDSHIP IS MAGIC #Part 53 #age restricted 18+#MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer #WORK IN PROGRESS

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minkymeatshop · 1 year

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they're just splitting the rent.

words: 2182

content warnings: none

etc: quick establishing piece for this group who i love so dearly. it mainly centers silke/cyane, with some background adelheidis/crux.

tags: @halsdaisy @sennamybeloved

They straightened their tie. Smoothed down their shirt. Applied two quick swipes of sparkly gold lipstick, stopping in a store’s window to check if it was on right. Somebody inside stared at them, and they smiled, giving a wave.

Under it all, Silke Chau was terrified. They straightened their top hat, which immediately slid to the side again, as usual. The jeweled bee affixed to it glinted back at them before they turned and kept walking.

Going out with a close friend was normal. They tried to repeat this to themself. They’d known her for years, since before she was Dr. Balaji. She was still Anny in their mind, even as they’d both aged, Silke drifting into performance while Cyane drilled herself into engineering. But Silke still didn’t feel like they’d grown apart. They still moved alike when they were together. Something about the way Anny made the same hand gestures like Silke’s, something like the way Silke had taken to fidgeting with their sleeves like Anny did.

Butterflies fluttered in their stomach. The silver ring in their pocket grew heavier than it should have been. Silke had no idea why they were so anxious about this. It was just… taking Cyane to a new place, maybe giving her a little gift. What was so stressful about that?

They’d seen the little angel-wing band in a store, and it reminded them so much of Cyane that they’d bought it on the spot with money they didn’t have. Silke was wondering if they’d have to get another side gig. They’d quit their job once again and slunk off to the underground of vaudeville, searching for something that didn’t make them feel so lonely, even with the warmth of Anny’s body next to them at night. Splitting the rent wasn’t going to offset this purchase, though.

An awning cast a shadow over them, and Silke turned to scan the posters behind shiny glass. It was dark outside, cobbled roads lit only by dimmed yellow streetlights, and yet the city was just beginning to awaken. They squared their shoulders and pushed open the door.

“What’s this place?” Cyane had asked, pushing her crescent-moon glasses up her nose. Silke’s eye was immediately drawn to her deep blue nails.

“Just another club.” Silke shrugged, indifferent. “But I heard they’ve got a Landa lady there. It’s this elite performing-arts family,” they found themself explaining. “The women are all wonderful. I’d love to see this show.”

Cyane raised her eyebrows, putting down her paper with light annoyance. “You know, I’m not a fan of the arts, but you don’t need to explain the Landas to me. Everybody knows them.”

Silke winced. Blunt as ever.

“Anyways, if you want to, sure, I’ll come.”

“Lovely,” said Silke, already thinking of what lipstick they would wear. “Meet you there tonight?”

“Why not?”

The interior of the Velvet Hood cabaret was dim, the only light a few amber-toned lanterns sparsely on the walls. It was dusty, Silke thought. Not in a literal way, but it felt old, despite the building being fairly new. Silke had heard whispers that it’d been built for this Landa lady.

Who was she, anyway? The lighting was almost too dim to make out details on their crumpled flyer. Silke smoothed it out on their lap, under the red tablecloth.

On the flyer, a tall, beak-masked figure embraced a ballet dancer in a skull-shaped mask. Rat and Reaper. Thursday nights, at the Velvet Hood. That was it. Either of these people could be the performer everybody was whispering about. Everybody in Silke’s circles, at least. Cyane hadn’t heard a damn thing about this club before Silke brought it up.

“Velvet Hood sounds like something from a penny dreadful,” she’d said, with a derisive sniff.

They weren’t quite listening to what the other patrons were saying, but they did hear somebody murmur the name “Landa”. It was someone behind them, so Silke snuck a peek—a tall person with a fringed scarf, eyes jumping back and forth as they chattered on to their friend. Silke was feeling increasingly alone.

They looked around, hoping to spot Cyane hurrying in. Across the room, an older woman with her hair in long braids reached into her handbag, the rings on her fingers reflecting the dim light. A girl sat in the lap of someone much shorter than her, twirling her hair and giggling at whatever they were saying. From Silke’s perspective, her sizable bust was obscuring their face.

They spotted her only seconds before she sat down. “Sorry I’m late,” Cyane whispered, because whispering felt like the only way to talk in this dark room. Her dark hair curled perfectly around her face, brown eyes locking on Silke’s. They had to look away. She had such an intense stare.

Silke took in her dress, the blue velvet one with all those embroidered constellations on it. “You look good. As usual.”

“Thank you.” It was kind of stilted. Cyane cleared her throat, and then they lapsed into silence.

“Is something on your mind?” They had hardly gotten the sentence out when Cyane started speaking again. “So there’s this bitch at work—“

Silke smiled. There was their Anny, going on about the bitch from work until the lights dimmed even more, and a hush fell over the room. “It’s about to start,” she whispered.

“You know, I love the arts, so you don’t need to explain that to me,” Silke teased.

“Oh, shut up.”

On the side of the stage, Silke spotted two figures. One tall and one short, like on the poster, but they weren’t wearing masks. Which was fair enough. Their own artist friends always loved to embellish whatever act they were advertising.

The shorter one came on first, wearing a tutu and pointe shoes, stepping silently across the stage to sit at the piano. The taller one entered next, stepping up to the microphone, his long fingers dancing over the stand. “Good evening,” he said, voice low and husky. The stage lighting easily caught his sparkling eyeshadow and his rings, and the shine of his tall leather boots. Silke admitted he was attractive, maybe in a scruffy way.

“He’s so gorgeous,” somebody next to Silke tittered. Cyane rolled her eyes, her fingers going to the interlocked Venus symbols on a chain around her neck.

“For all who do not know us, allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Crux raven Landa—“ he continued, undeterred, even as an excited whisper went up at the name Landa—“and my lovely companion is Adelheidis Melchior.”

“That’s… who is that?” Cyane murmured.

“Not one of the prolific Landa ladies. It’s Crux, the only man who’s inherited the name,” Silke realized. “I mean, I don’t think it’s his anymore—“

“Tell me later!” Cyane hissed.

Adelheidis pushed their glasses up their nose, scowling, and played a chord, as if to tell Crux, Get on with it. He smiled, stepping backwards easily and putting his hand on their shoulder, sliding up so his thumb was on their lips—then jerking back as if he’d been bitten, Adelheidis offering another snarl. “Don’t worry, she only bites me,” Crux said, with a chuckle. Even without the microphone, his voice was still impressively loud.

Adelheidis turned, allowing Silke a clear glimpse of their face. Their hair was black and curly, and the stage lighting refused to let anybody see what was under their round glasses. They used their ankle to drag Crux in closer to them, grabbing his collar and yanking him down. The two of them looked beautiful. Decadent, with the amount of different fabrics and textures on Adelheidis’ costume, and the sleek shiny feathers on Crux’s shrug. Untouchable.

“I wish that was me,” another patron sighed. This time, Cyane was too entranced by the stage to pay them any mind.

“So, you’re all here for a show, huh?” Adelheidis’ smile was a wicked slash. “Let’s give you a show.” They played the same chord, once, twice, and then launched into a rich piece as Crux hurried back to the microphone to sing.

His voice was a smooth baritone, obviously quite trained. But maybe not in a classical sense. Silke knew the Landas were an eccentric sort, eschewing proper training in favor of passing the skill down through the family, mother to daughter. To son, in this case.

They knew very little about playing the piano, but from what they did know from their musician friends, they could see that Adelheidis was classically trained. Their posture made it evident, as did the pure skill they were pouring into the keyboard.

Crux’s singing had imperfections in it. But Silke found themself drawn to it, and they thought they would be even not knowing his family name. The volume dropped as he backed away from the microphone once again, sitting down with Adelheidis at the piano bench, playing alongside them so it was seamless when Adelheidis rose, dropping their glasses on top of the sheet music stand. The marked shift in the way they carried their body was even visible to Silke, who knew nothing about ballet, as they picked up a tambourine from the top of the piano and moved to center stage, lifting their leg high as Crux transitioned into playing a more classical piece. The audience around them whispered murmurs of awe.

“Look at her calves,” Cyane sighed. Silke flicked her arm.

Adelheidis hit each position on-beat with the music, punctuated with the impact of the tambourine—on their foot, on their shoulder, on their hip. They leaned over their leg, extended front, suspended for a second, before stepping through and performing a turn. Crux hesitated when they did, continuing on when they started moving again—but quickly backtracked. Clearly, Adelheidis repeating this turn wasn’t in the original sheet music, but they executed such a perfect double that Silke doubted the audience, murmuring approval, noticed or cared. Silke certainly didn’t.

They could see that the two performers harmonized perfectly, listening and watching for each other’s cues. Silke couldn’t tell which parts of this choreography were rehearsed, and which were improvised.

Crux’s playing dwindled down to a single note as Adelheidis fluttered to the back of the stage, throwing their arms back with a ferocious smile, before they launched into a leap so powerful that the audience gasped. Into a series of turns, Crux’s coda speeding up accordingly, and finishing exactly when they did. Adelheidis finished close to the edge of the stage, and Silke could see that their face was red from exertion.

Applause went up from the audience as Adelheidis picked up their glasses and sat down again at the piano, turned away from the keys. Crux picked up a guitar, and started picking a lone melody, as Adelheidis took a deep breath and sang.

It was impressive. An intense variation like that straight into using your lung capacity in a totally different way. Silke reached in their wallet to look for a tip, hitting their fingernail on the silver angel wing ring. They froze. They needed to give that to Cyane before they forgot.

Crux’s booming voice soared above, almost overtaking Adelheidis’ gentle and soft one, but pulling back after he took a glance at their face. Adelheidis smiled at them—and it wasn’t the vicious smile they’d hurled at the audience earlier. It looked like how their voice sounded.

The conclusion of their song, backed only by a guitar melody, felt natural, and the audience applauded once again. Little cabaret acts like this never got the same roars as the same act staged in an opulent opera house. Silke crossed their ankles. With his family name, surely it would be easy for Crux to work someplace more prestigious? Why here?

“Thank you,” Adelheidis said quietly, their cold tone returning, yet not as frigid as before as their eyes strayed to Crux’s face. They accepted Crux’s hand and let him lead them offstage as the hall coalesced into brief silence before the next act.

“Some opening,” Cyane said from next to Silke.

“In a good way?”

She flipped her hair back. “It was okay.”

“I liked it.”

“Are you just saying that because the guy was attractive?”

“Oh, rubbish, don’t act like you’re any better.”

“Shut up!” That was the second one of the night. Satisfied with how much they’d irritated her, Silke smiled, reaching into their pocket.

“Sorry. I know I’m annoying. So, to make up for it…” They took Cyane’s hand and heard her breath hitch gently, sliding the ring onto her finger.

“What is this?” she whispered, harsh. “How much was it?”

“Shh. Don’t worry about it.” Silke patted her hand. “It’s angelic, just like you, Anny.”

Cyane hesitated, her eyes locking onto Silke’s again. They only held her gaze for a moment before dropping it, hearing her scoff as they did.

“I can’t accept this.”

“Well, I already bought it. You’d better, or else it’d just be a waste.”

“…Thank you,” Cyane murmured, taking Silke’s hand in both of hers. They felt their neck flush as the warm light glinted off the silver. “I really do appreciate it, Cece.”

#minkfic #the dancing plague

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tjibiart · 6 years

Photo

Sinking in water

#winc #winx #club #bloom #sinking #in #water #winxbloom #art #digital art #fan animation #fanart

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halaboyz · 3 years

Text

–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.

pairing: photographer! chanhee x fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3

"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.

"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"

Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.

"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.

“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.

“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out.

“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up.

“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.

“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.

“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.

“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.

Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.

You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all.

“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter.

Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.

“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.

You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.

“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.

“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”

You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.

He suddenly stands up, wincing.

“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.

You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.

“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.

You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition.

You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one.

Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?

There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him.

You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?

Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.

chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm

You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–

You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.

And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.

Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.

You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.

You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you.

3:50.

Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie.

“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.

“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.

Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running.

You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..

Were you.

It was all you.

There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.

“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.

“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.

All was black and white.

But it didn’t matter.

What colored his world was you– it has always been you.

A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.

Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.

Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.

Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.

Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.

He made you beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful,

Because you always were.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him.

You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.

It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.

“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.

“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.

He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.

Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.

“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.”

You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.

“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.

He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.

More than perfect.

The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.

“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers.

You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.

“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.

“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.

“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.

Perfect.

Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.

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edendaphne · 3 years

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“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary: Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

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(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

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I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Enemies AU #enemies to lovers #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes

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l-egionaire · 4 years

Text

She Loves Me Not- Chapter 1-An Owl House Fanfic.

Willow had had just about enough.

When she first realized Amity's obvious crush on Luz it had been somewhat funny. Seeing her serious and studious childhood friend being turned into a red-faced stammering mess by the human girl couldnt help but cause her to snicker. But after nearly three weeks of seeing Amity practically swoon as soon as Luz so much as gazed in her general direction and her friend still being almost painfully oblivious to her affections, Willow decided something needed to change.

She knew that if she just told Luz about Amity's crush, the witch would personally sic her largest abomination on her. So she would have to help Luz figure it out on her own. Which would be difficult as it seemed like Luz was especially dense when it came to Amity's feelings about her.

Case in point, when Amity leapt up from their lunch table with her face the color of blood and Luz's only response was "huh, guess something didn't agree with her." Willow was tempted to bang her head against the table.

Thankfully, she found the perfect moment while the two of them where walking down the hall and Luz had started talking about a new piece of Azura fanfiction she'd read.

"So then Azura pushes Hecate out of the way and takes the blow from the burning heckhound! Horrified by whats happened to her friend, Hecate is filled with rage and power and defeats the monster with one powerful blast of magic!" Luz swept her arm in excitement, just narrowly missing hitting Willows forehead. She chuckled nervously after noticing. "Sorry. Anyway, Hecate runs to Azura's side and cradles her in her arms. Hecate asks "why would you do that?" And Azura says "I couldn't lose you." Oh, it was just so romantic!"

Willow raised a brow at Luz's word choice. "Romantic?"

"Yeah. I mean, the author isn't really a Heczula shipper but the way they interact in the story just gives such a really strong romantic vibe. I tried telling the same thing to Amity but she said she didn't really see it."

Resisiting the urge to smile at the irony, Willow carefully asked. "So, Amity isn't really into romance?"

"Oh no, she's actually a HUGE Heczula fan. In fact she even showed me some really great fan art she'd done. I actually asked her about working together to make our own special Heczula piece. Marry our skills so to speak."

She could just imagine Amity's response to that. Still keeping her expression as neutral as possible, Willow pressed on.

"Speaking of Amity and romance, has she talked to her crush yet?"

Luz frowned. "No. And I don't know why. I mean, I get that she was afraid of being rejected but its Amity. She's smart, talented, cute. No way someone would reject her."

Okay, Luz calling Amity "cute" wasn't a bad sign. "Maybe its because she's already got a relationship with this person. You know, like a friendship shes scared of messing up."

Luz immediately struck a hand out in front of Willow and they both came to a stop. The human girl gasped like a banshee, practically sucking in air.

"Of course! She's developed feelings for a friend and now fears her romantic attraction will end up damaging their friendship if she reveals it! Its such a common romance trope, how could've I have missed that?!" She gave another loud gasp. "Ogmigosh. I know who Amity's crush is!"

Willow couldn't help but smirk. About time.

"Its you Willow! Amity has a crush on you!"

Willows left eye started to twitch and she internally groaned at her friend once again drawing the wrong conclusion.

Mustering up as much effort as possible, she calmly asked. "What makes you think that?"

"Well it all fits. You two were close childhood friends before suddenly being separated. You've started rebuilding your relationship which probably caused her to realize that her feelings for you went beyond friendship and because things only just started getting better between you she's scared of admitting her feelings because she doesn't want to lose you again!" Luz declared, looking extremely pleased with herself.

Okay, that actually made since. "Yeah. But you know Luz...that could also apply to you too."

Luz's pride turned to confusion. "What?"

"Well, you two only recently became friends after not liking each other and she might not want to mess up your friendship since its so new." Willow said slowly, hoping it would finally sink in to her.

Luz stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter.

After a round of giggles, she wiped a tear from her eye. "Thats ridiculous. Amity couldn't have a crush on me!"

At this point Willow couldn't swallow the annoyance when she replied. "And why not?!"

She expected to hear "we're just friends " or "we danced at Grom" as Luz's defense but what she said next completely shocked her.

"Amity would never be interested someone like me."

Both the statement and the paradoxical chuckle Luz gave while saying it zapped away whatever anger Willow had at her obliviousness and replaced it with intense confusion.

"What are you talking about? Why wouldn't Amity be interested in you?"

"Because Amity is, well, Amity and I'm me." The way Luz said it, t as if it should be completely obvious, caused Willow to get a twisted feeling in her stomach. Before she could say anything Luz pressed on.

"I mean, Amity's a skilled witch, Hexsides top student, she's planning on being part of the emperors coven one day! Plus she's rich, popular, she makes great fanart. And me? I'm...barely able to do magic. And I can't even do it the right way like you guys thanks to my stupid human organs. I'm not even a real witch. I mean, if Amity had a crush on me, you really think she'd be afraid of me rejecting her?"

Willow just stared at her in stunned silence. She was waiting for Luz to yell "kidding" or say that this was just a joke and she'd known about Amity's crush the whole time. But the bittersweet smile on Luz's face told her that she was completely serious.

She couldn't believe it. Luz, quite possibly the nicest person she knew, the one who tried to help her with a school project at the risk of being violently dissected, the one who'd managed to get past Amity's walls and become her friend, honestly thought that Amity didn't consider her good enough to have a crush on.

"Luz, I'm sure Amity doesn't think that way." Willow argued. "You two are friends now! You have that book club thing you do together! She doesn't think of you as less than her! In fact, I bet if you asked she'd definitely say she would be interested in you!"

Hopefully that would kill two birds with one stone.

"I can't do that Willow. Like you said, things are good between me and Amity. The last thing I want is to scare her off because she thinks I got feelings for her." Luz looked to the side and muttered. "I don't want to end up losing another friend because I pushed too much."

Her voice was so low Willow almost didn't hear her. She couldn't help but notice her use of word in particular. "Another?"

Luz winced, clearly not having wanted Willow to hear her but seeing the look her friend was giving, she began to explain.

"Back at my human school I would sometimes manage to meet people who had some of the same interests I did, like Azura or Anime. We'd talk about it, meet up, it was almost like we were friends."

Luz sighed

"But eventually, I'd do something. Somthing too weird or too much. Maybe even something that ccidentally ended up getting us in trouble. And then...they didn't want to be friends anymore."

The whole time Luz spoke her voice cracked, and Willow noticed a twinkle in the corner of her eye. The defeated expression on Luz's face seemed almost alien compared to her usual beaming face.

"Luz.....".

Upon seeing the sympathetic look on her friends face, Luz cleared her throat, plastered a smile on her face and tried to unnoticingly wipe the corner of her eye.

"But, anyway, thats my point. Amity and I are at a good place and I don't need to go asking her questions that might make her uncomfortable just to make myself feel better."

Noticing that she hadn't managed to ease her friend, Luz added. "Hey, come on, relax. Its not like I don't think anyone could like me But Amity? Trust me, I think she's be a bit out of my league. Now come on, we should get to class."

"You go ahead. I'll catch up."

As she watched Luz walk away, their entire conversation replayed in her mind. She couldn't believe her friend honestly thought that way about herself. She truly thought she wasn't good enough for Amity to like.

Willow knew one thing, still felt like she had before. She'd had enough. She wasn't going to let Luz keep thinking like that about herself. She was going to do something about it.

And she knew just what that something was.

#The Owl House #Owl House #TOH #the owl house fanfiction #fanfic #toh luz #luz owl house #luz noceda #luz the human #toh amity #amity owl house #the owl house amity #amity blight #lumity #willow park #willow the owl house #willow

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doctor-jon-crane · 3 years

Text

written for @jovialjuggernaut-draws and their recent art

now i’ve never written nygma before except in rp so you can be brutal if need be

i’ve also never written riddlebat but there’s a first for everything i guess

I can only speak so slow, idiots. [Riddlebat]

Edward Nygma had met a lot of stupid people. Living in Gotham it was almost an inevitability. He swore the citizens got stupider by the day, although it could be the amount of lead and toxins in the water causing their braincells to flee to Metropolis. Last he checked online there was a Joker fan club with almost an alarming amount of people in it. The henchmen seemed to get stupider too, although that was most likely caused by the amount of brain damage caused by Bruce connecting his fist to their skull. The villains seemed to manage avoiding whatever was creating the lack of intellect in the city, but that wasn't saying much. For God's sake, there was someone who's theme was based around condiments, and Valentin doing whatever he did in that disgusting basement of his. Truly, there was no intelligence in Gotham, and every day he saw examples of people being morons.

This, however, was the stupidest thing he had seen to date.

Someone had dared to capture him. He would have loved to learn who to pay them a visit when Bruce wasn't looking later, but it seemed these morons barely knew what to call themselves either. They were even doing the cliché tactic of keeping one light pointed in his face so he couldn't see, all while attempting to deepen their voices in a rather pathetic display.

"Tell us what we want to know!"

Edward rolled his eyes for what felt like the 100th time this night, although one throbbed from the forming black eye. They had done a number on him, but it was nothing worse than what he used to get. If anything it was like they were going easy on him, although they probably thought they had him scared shitless.

"And I keep telling you morons I don't even know what you want!"

They kept demanding information on Batman but they wouldn't even go into specifics. They just kept growling 'tell us about Batman' like they were wild animals with no other way to communicate.

"What do you want to know about him, pray tell? His identity, what gadgets he stores, the size of his dick?"

"Yes! Wait, no, I mean - " He couldn't see much past the light but they were all looking at each other slightly confused. "Just tell us about the Bat!"

He was going to write Crane a strongly worded letter about poisoning the water supply again, this was getting too much to bare.

"Oh, it's like shouting into space. Let me explain this to you all in a way your small, near nonexistent brains can comprehend. I don't know what you want to know about the Batman, and even if you did manage to crack open a dictionary and find more words than the select few you seem capable of speaking tonight, I would not tell you. Not because I don't want to, because at this point I would happily tell you anything you want to know so I didn't have to deal with your painful stupidity, but because I simply don't think you would understand. You brainless monkeys probably don't even understand half of what I'm saying and I'm trying to use the smallest words available to drill through your thick skulls."

"Shut up!" The leader of the group stepped forward and hit him smack across the cheek, head turning from the force as he winced, blinking in pain, face flushed from the blood rushing upwards.

"Well, am I supposed to shut up or am I supposed to tell you Batman fun facts?"

The man grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him up off the ground, chair following along with as the two entered a glaring match. "You talk way too fucking much."

"Isn't that what you wanted, you moron?"

The oversized idiot let out a snarl of rage, prepared to do something to surely show how much he needed to compensate for, before the familiar sound of shattering glass caught the attention of all involved. The leader clearly couldn't focus on two things at once, dropping Edward back on the ground as he turned and watched a bat-shaped bastard fly though the window. He would have loved to watch what would happen next, but unfortunately his chair didn't prefer being dropped and tipped over, taking the genius with it.

He sighed, his everything hurting as he heard the familiar sounds of fighting and Batman shattering bones. That sound used to be so exhilarating, because then he knew his match had finally arrived. Now it was simply annoying because he just wanted to be let out of this damn chair.

The fight died out quickly to no one's surprise, and the chair was being righted with careful grace, Edward following familiar hands as they cut the ropes with a batarang.

"Sorry I couldn't be here sooner. I didn't realize you were gone until after I finished clearing out the warehouse by the docks."

Edward resisted the urge to roll his eye simply because it hurt to do so, standing on his own despite Bruce's offering. "Just take me home. I need extra strength everything to deal with the headache these jackasses have given me."

Bruce simply raised an eyebrow at him, and Edward was very tempted to hit him, if he knew Bruce wouldn't catch his hand. "Get a smarter fan club next time."

Bruce just smiled that awful, annoying smile that Edward swore up and down he hated, at least in the moment, and reached out to grip his forearm reassuringly. "I'm glad you're okay, Eddie."

Edward scoffed, but he didn't move to push the oversized bat off. "Yes, yes, you can pamper me and apologize for you negligence when we get home. For now I just want a very fast ride in your car."

He paused, frowning. "And some paper and pens."

"Why?"

"I have a letter to write to a luddite who still doesn't own a phone in this day and age about putting too many chemicals in the watering hole of Gotham."

#riddlebat #riddler #batman #bruce wayne #edward nygma #doc writes

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aliypop · 2 years

Text

The Bee’s Knee’s (Prt3)

Wordcount : 1,532

Warning: Usual violence

A/N: @herosneednotapply, Alright part 3!

"Aye, you!" a voice shouted out, it was four am, and the club had just closed, no one in sight but The Punisher and, "Yeah you!" Carlo spat, knife in hand as he slashed a bit. "Look, I don't want no..."

BANG!

"Trouble..." Frank laughed, looking at his shoulder, the kid was a terrible shot definitely, but for the course of the case, he had to keep him alive. He had to admit the kid was good with his hands, a few bruises, and a few swollen lumps for Curtis to tease him about, but in the end, Carlo was the one with his face in the concrete. "You lay a finger on my girl and..." Carlo spat out blood,

"You'll what..." Frank pulled him by his hair.

"I'll kill you..." he coughed, as Frank banged his head against the light pole, "Yeah, right..."

"Matt told me about your little adventure tonight." Addie chuckled, tightening her robe as Yonah laughed, "Yeah, it was great being someone I wasn't..." she swooned at the touch from her gloved hand, "Or was it great being who you wanted to be?" she questioned, Addie had seen women who were just like her, some of them had worked at her club,

Yonah had the confidence. She didn't know how to execute it. "You could say that, but I need a favor..." she mumbled as Addie helped her remove her shoes, "Hmmm..."

"You think you could teach me the art of what ya do..." she asked, a bit shy about it, "Of course, I can doll," she pinched her cheeks, "We'll start you off with fan dancing... no, no... the shimmy mmm..."

"How about anything quick to learn..." she blurted out as Addie turned to face her, "Why the hurry, honey..."

"Well... I lied and told Frank, who doesn't know it's me, that I worked at your place and..."

"You need to cover the lie." she smirked, "Or to impress him." she teased as Yonah gulped,

"What, no, don't be serious." she chuckled, "Speaking of which, I should get going..."

"What was that about Ez..." Mike growled. Ezra rolled her eyes as she cleaned the cut off his face, "Well, if you must know..." she chuckled, "It's the art of seduction. When it's good, I'll grab em and kill him." she shrugged, "Stop movin you're making this worse." her hands dabbing at the blood, for a Priest he was into some shady stuff but for a socialite so was she. "You made eyes at him, and you only make eyes to the women you wanna kiss backward..." Mike wasn't jealous. Well, maybe a little, but sometimes he forgot that Ezra was Ezra, and she'd do anything to get a job done. "When Fisk has a gun to your back, you'd flirt with whoever he wants you to," she grumbled, stitching up his scar, placing a bandage over it.

"Does it look bad?" he asked,

"It's your face... it always looks bad." she joked.

The door creaked open as Yonah held onto a kitchen knife, throwing it in the direction of "Frank, are you okay..." shocked as he ducked, "Yeah, rough night out, you've got an arm on ya." he chuckled, holding onto his bloodied shoulder, "Got a sewing kit?" she asked as he stared at her,

She'd only been there for a day, and yet she cared enough to patch him up. "Top shelf..." he sat down, "I cooked dinner, but..." she tried to reach for the kit, a laugh leaving from Frank as he admired the persistent demeanor of her short stature. Arms around her waist, he placed her on his shoulder, wincing in pain as she blushed,

"Oh uh, thanks..."

"Don't mention it." he winked,

"And a one and a two, and a one-two-three! " Addie counted, watching Yonah rehearse with the other women. She was growing a bit more confident, but then again, she did just come back from winning a lawsuit, her first one since she'd been there. "Give 'em the ole you can't have me, Yonah," Addie said, trying to spark something in her. "She's not doing it right..." Elektra groaned, "I'm trying my best..." Yonah sighed,

"Maybe it's the clothes..."

"Th-The clothes...What's wrong with them..." Yonah asked, "They're too constricting," Addie sighed, taking her to the dressing room. "I think I like this piece here..." it was a dark pink, with feather plumes and a few glitzy skimpy tassels, but it spoke to her, "You sure, " Yonah only nodded. The sun had begun to set as the dancers raced to their places for one last rehearsal for the week.

"Five... Six ... Seven Eight!"

"Where you going..." Curtis asked as Frank rolled his eyes. It was a slower night, no Mahoney giving orders or criminals begging to see lawyers they couldn't afford, just a night of drinking black coffee and going, "Out for a case..." he mentioned, "Found a few leads..." he shrugged it off as Curtis laughed,

"Hope you find yourself a woman out there..." he nudged him, "Who do ya think patched me up," Frank smirked, walking out. Sure he wasn't lying that he was going out for a case but be damned if Frank told Curtis he was going to the Whoopi spot to look at some topless showgirls cause one of them flirted with him at a bar, two illegal sounding things in the book. First, he had to pick up Matt, who begged him to go, which was odd seeing that he couldn't well.

See.

"You good ..." Addie asked, as Yonah giggled, "It's uh all happening so fast... I don't know." she smiled, "Well, you got a bouquet..." Addie smiled,

"From who..."

"Take a wild guess..."

"Why's he here..." Yonah asked, her fingers twitching as she got nervous, "Don't worry about him. You got millions of men and women out there who paid to see the girls and you." she comforted her, showing her around to the curtain,

"Matt's here!" Yonah grinned as Addie cursed under her breath, turning red until she looked over, "Franks here too."

"That's fine."

Matt's eyes hadn't lost focus on Addie. He could pick up on her scent, the vibration of every dance move, of every dancer, but one, "Red..." Frank tapped him until his eyes locked with hers, she was graceful, confident, and a storm of seductive, throwing her glove at him, he caught it tucking it into his pocket, Matt only chuckled, hearing his heart race. "Don't look now, but I think she's comin your way," Matt commented, hearing the click of her heels, "So what are you callin yourself tonight..." Frank asked, sure he'd been in his apartment with the same woman who was now sitting in his lap waiting for her que of music,

But the fact he'd been falling in admiration with a facade of the ever so shy supple woman when she was bold, courageous, and loud. "Depends whaddya wanna call me..." she asked, as the spotlight shone on her, men and women groaning that she picked him and not anyone else in the room.

I want to be loved by you, just you,

And nobody else but you,

I want to be loved by you, alone!

Boop-boop-a-doop!

Yonah giggled as she leaned in, sure she'd never do this but, that was the fun of this, for the week Yonah had been rehearsing to be someone she wasn't, flirty, a vixen, and-

"You got ya hands on my girl..." Carlo walked over, her fingerings balling into a fist as both Matt and Frank were on edge to do anything to protect her, "I ain'tcha girl..."

THWACK!

"Where's that right hook been..." Frank mumbled, "It's been hiding a bit..." she laughed, "Oh duck!" two of Carlo's goons came down from their seats to pitch a fight. It was a rough house in there. Uppercuts, jabs, knives, and even chairs became weapons. Matt handed his group of bandits, as did Yonah, who impressed Frank by fighting in such a scantily clad outfit and heels.

"Matt, check on Addie and the girls..."

"Got it!"

"On ya left, Frank!" doing the high kick from her set that she didn't get to finish, Carlo was dangerous, but the team-up between those two was even worse.

"Angel, are you okay..." Matt asked as Addie shook her wrist, "Just fine, Matt, but are you okay." she asked, touching his face, a few scars that he already knew existed on his face. "Sweetheart, I'm fine, just uh get the girls safe and."

BANG!

"Who the hell's shootin in my club... see If I opened in Harlem, Luke Cage would've..." she cooled down, storming out the dressing room, her eyes on Sparrow, Fisk's new girl.

"Run..." Mike whispered as he locked eyes with his brother, he'd been in deep for this, and he knew it. Lying on the ground was Yonah, who had a bullet lodge in her thigh,

More food for the press to eat at her about,

"Look at me..." Frank held her, blood on his hands, which was a typical patrol night for him.

"I...I'm trying..." she laughed, "Hard... no-not to," she cuddled into his chest, her eyes closed shut.

#matt murdock #frank castle #oc x frank castle #poc oc x canon #oc x canon fanfic #nmcu fanfic #nmcu #1920's au

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ohayohimawari · 3 years

Text

And it was Love at First Brawl

A drabble written for Day 7 of @kakaobiweek Violet | Music | Fantasy

This is another humorous piece appropriate for teen-and-up readers and set in a modern AU.

This drabble is heavily inspired by my good friend @azuzeldraws incredible art series, Metal Konoha, and I dedicate this chapter to her. Thank you, Zu, for letting us use your amazing work to promote this event!

And it was Love at First Brawl

It was one of those Friday nights when Kakashi left the restaurant with a stomach full of his favorite supper and an empty soul after dining alone.

Though the day neared its end, Konoha’s club district was just beginning to wake. The streets were full of jaywalkers, inexperienced parallel-parkers, and the night owl versions of early birds lined up in boisterous queues waiting for the bars to open.

Kakashi felt entirely out of place and maybe almost too old for this scene while he dutifully waited at the corner for the pedestrian crossing light to signal his turn. He stepped into the crosswalk once it was safe, and he saw a man on the opposite side, jogging towards the intersection to cross before the light changed.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, entirely entranced.

He watched the individual blades of the other man’s black, unruly hair as they bounced with each step. He wore a t-shirt that fitted him like he was born to wear it and a healthy glow on every inch of exposed skin. His sparkling eyes met Kakashi’s as he trotted past him on the street and offered a greeting through a roguish grin. “Hey.”

And that was all it took.

Being a classic lit teacher, he had a multitude of words at his disposal. That man was vivacity personified, and Kakashi turned on his heel, following him with his eyes. The dark-haired man ran right up to the door of the seediest bar on the street and gleefully skipped up the stairs. He exchanged laughter and a handshake with the bouncer and disappeared inside.

The pedestrian light flashed red, alerting Kakashi that he still stood in the middle of the street. His feet moved of their own accord, and a moment later, his brain agreed with their plan. He retraced his steps, abandoning his intention to go home, knowing he would abandon much more than that for a chance to meet the stranger that charmed him.

As driven as he was, Kakashi hesitated for a moment outside of the club, assessing it. The sidewalk in front of it was littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, and two people appeared to be doing something he didn’t want to interrupt in the shadows of the alley next to it. Then, he assessed himself.

He was dressed more casually than usual, out for a date with nobody but him, wearing a t-shirt that featured a band called ROOT. He had no idea who they were, or why they used all capital letters, but his students chose it from the trendy store Boiling Subject as a gift for him, and it was comfortable after wearing a tie all day. Deciding that his attire was appropriate for the venue, Kakashi walked up the stairs that led to the door, where he was stopped by the same menacing bouncer that laughed only moments before.

“You sure you wanna do this?” The man growled through scarred lips.

“Pretty sure,” Kakashi replied, though his confidence wavered.

“We don’t want any trouble.” The man’s muscles bulged in a show of strength as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t want to bring any,” Kakashi replied, honestly.

“Let him in, Ibiki.” A pony-tailed bartender wearing a high-cut shirt that showed more cleavage than fabric chastised the bouncer.

“Whatever you say, Anko,” Ibiki moved aside to allow Kakashi into the bar.

As foreboding as the exchange was, it caught the attention of the handsome dark-haired stranger who stood at the bar. Bolstered, Kakashi stood in the space next to him.

“What can I getcha, hon?” Anko tossed a stained cardboard coaster onto the bar in front of him.

“A beer,” Kakashi ordered as if he’d never been to a pub before, too nervous to recall his favorite drink.

Anko retrieved a bottle from the cooler behind her while Kakashi withdrew a few bills from his wallet. Then, he wrapped his hand around the bottle of Lone Ninja Star she offered after opening it with her teeth.

Kakashi ignored how unhygienic it was to take a sip from the bottle as he did it, glancing around the bar, looking everywhere but at the man that led him there. It was half-full of patrons in various stages of sobriety and had a stage all set up and waiting for a band to perform. When he finished noting where all the emergency exits were, the most incredible thing happened.

“Cheers,” Mr. Vivacity said, bringing their beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Kakashi replied, then pulled a long swig from the bottle, savoring the moment that the man of his dreams had spoken first.

“So, uh,” the dark-haired man glanced down at Kakashi’s shirt, and a chuckle bubbled out of him, “you like this band too?” He tilted his head in the direction of the stage.

“Um, yeah," Kakashi stammered, "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool," Mr. Vivacity replied with a smile that made Kakashi's knees buckle. "Which of their CDs is your favorite?"

Kakashi's quick mind kicked into gear on the spot. If the band had multiple releases, then the safest answer would be, "I think their first one."

"Really?" The dark-haired man appeared pleasantly surprised. "So, you're an old-school fan, huh?"

“Yep, I guess I am,” Kakashi laughed a little awkwardly and brought his beer back to his lips.

“I think my favorite track on that one is, Kill Me With Your Kekkei Genkai,” Mr. Vivacity nodded, thinking aloud, and Kakashi felt his eyes bulge, worried that he might not be able to keep up the facade. But then he was spared when the other man suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, my name is—”

“Crybaby Tobi, you finally made it!” A man with slicked blonde hair and wearing a shirt with religious cult symbols literally crashed into their conversation, spilling his beer on Kakashi’s shirt.

The unwelcome interruption glanced at him. “My bad,” he drawled unapologetically, looking down at the soiled shirt. Then, his eyes shot up to meet Kakashi’s.

“WHOA! You’ve got balls, man!”

“Thank you,” Kakashi decided to take it as a compliment, turning towards the bar to grab a few napkins. He blotted at his shirt when Anko shouted to him that there was a hot air dryer in the men’s room, and, as much as Kakashi didn’t want to walk away from Mr. Crybaby before he could learn his real name, he didn’t want to stand there like an idiot in a wet ROOT t-shirt.

By the time he exited the bathroom, a makeshift merchandise table had appeared near it, so he bee-lined to it to learn more about the band to contribute to a conversation about them. At least, now he knew the band’s name was ANBU, and he wondered what was up with bands using all capital letters.

He had barely begun to browse the tracklist on the back of one of the CDs when the purple-haired, facial-pierced woman at the table asked, “You gonna buy that?”

Something about her tone made Kakashi feel obligated to pull out his wallet, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

“I don’t have change for that,” she deadpanned, bored, and sarcastic.

Suddenly, the bar erupted with shouting, so Kakashi quickly grabbed a second CD to even out the exchange and hurried back to the bar and Mr. Vivacity, or Crybaby, or whoever he was.

Then, his heart sank when he saw that the other man wasn’t there anymore.

Kakashi stood in front of the stage feeling like the biggest fish out of water when the club’s sound system screamed into life with the ear-splitting sound of feedback through the amps. Kakashi covered his ears and spun around in time to catch the band taking their positions onstage.

The singer set down a six-pack next to his mic and yanked one can of beer free from it. He held it sideways in his hand, pulled out a kunai, and stabbed it in the middle before bringing the punctured hole to his mouth.

“Tenzō! Tenzō! Tenzō!” The crowd chanted while he shotgunned the beer and cheered when he crushed the empty can against his head. He grabbed the microphone in front of him when his large, almond eyes made bigger by copious amounts of black eyeliner landed on Kakashi.

“What the fu —” He roared, launching himself off the stage, tackling Kakashi to the ground.

Even though he was a classic lit teacher, Kakashi held his own for a long time in a fight against a bar full of punks until he took one bottle to the head too many and woke up in the alley next to the bar.

“Hey,” Kakashi winced as he turned his head to see who spoke to him, already recognizing that voice and feeling a little happier than concussed. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kakashi muttered, “thanks, Mr. Crybaby.”

“It’s Obito,” the other man laughed, “and you’re welcome, Mr. Metalhead.”

“I didn’t fool you for a second, did I?” Kakashi licked at his fattened, split bottom lip, hoping he looked like he deserved sympathy. “I’m Kakashi, by the way.”

Obito snickered and pressed a bag of ice against Kakashi’s head. “I figured you didn’t quite know what you walked into, wearing a ROOT t-shirt to an ANBU gig.”

“What was that all about?”

“Tenzō used to be the drummer for that band, but he had a big blow-up with their manager, Danzō, so he quit and formed his own band. There’s a lot of bad blood there.”

Kakashi looked down, embarrassed, not knowing what to say and feeling like a total idiot.

“Why did you come to the bar?” Obito asked quietly.

Kakashi sighed through his nose. If he learned anything that night, it was that honesty probably came with less violence. “You.”

“Me?” Obito asked, even more timidly.

“Yeah,” Kakashi glanced up at him. “You passed me on the street, and, I�� I just had to meet you,” he felt a little like a weirdo admitting it out loud, but he was past the point of stopping now. “I dunno, I, I just had a feeling, and I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

“Me too,” Obito confided, lowering the bag of ice, and Kakashi peered at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I was just about to run back out when you showed up at the door. I uh, I’m the sound guy here,” he tilted his head towards the bar, “and I was running late; otherwise, I would’ve stopped right there in the crosswalk. But when I saw the band was running late, I was about to go after you,” he ended with a shy smirk.

“You’re the sound guy?” Kakashi’s brain was turning to mush and it had nothing to do with how many blows he took to the face.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Obito brought the ice back up to Kakashi’s head, “I messed with their levels hoping the feedback would distract Tenzō long enough for you to get out of his line of sight, but,” he grimaced.

“You wanna go for a drink with me?” Kakashi mumbled, knowing he couldn’t embarrass himself anymore that night.

Obito chuckled at him and held up his hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Kakashi focused on the fingers in front of his face. “Three?”

Obito laughed louder and stood up, “Wrong.” He helped Kakashi to his feet, “Looks like Konoha ER is our first date.”

#kakaobiweek2021 #kakaobi #kakashi #obito #day 7 #hima writes

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Guilt and Consequences Pt8

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Lila had no idea how long she sat there, trying to remember anything about her father, or supposed sister, but she came up completely blank. Considering how young she had to have been in that dream it made sense, but it was still frustrating. Her mother never mentioned her father, let alone any other family. Lila remembered asking once, after she’d been put in a school for the first time because the other kids asked her about it. She’d lied to them of course, but it had made her curious. That question had gotten her grounded for a month so she never brought up the subject again.

Maybe that was why her mother disliked her. If she’d been the cause of her father’s death it would make sense. Well, assuming her mother actually loved the man. Given that there was nothing in her life to indicate he even existed except Lila herself she highly doubted it. None of this made sense. And that was before she added in the possible sister that most likely wasn’t her mother’s daughter. If her dream was at all accurate, she looked nothing like them and spoke with an American accent. So a half sister most likely. The next question was obviously what had happened to her? Lila felt fairly confident that they’d both made it out of that building, even if she didn’t know why, so the most likely scenario is that she went to live with her mother or other family. It was probably for the best. Given the way the woman treated her, Lila didn’t even want to think about how she’d be with someone else’s kid she got stuck with.

“Are you alright?” Lila started and looked up to find Ladybug’s concerned look. When had she gotten back? When did it get dark for that matter? She stood up before answering.

“Fine.” That actually wasn’t a lie. She was always fine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lila just shook her head. She preferred to work things out on her own for one. Even if she didn’t she wouldn’t make someone whose life she’d made more difficult listen to her issues. Ladybug sighed. “Thanks for the tip on Alya’s powers. Granted, once I told Chat the fight took five times as long because I had to keep him from purposely getting hit, but that was my error in judgement.” Lila looked over to see a grimace on the hero’s face and frowned at her.

“Why in the world would he try to get hit?” That was possibly the stupidest thing she’d heard of. Ladybug just shrugged.

“To find out my identity. He figured he could get hit and have someone ask him. Again, it’s my fault for not realizing he’d try that. He’s always been extremely unhappy that we have to keep our identities secret from each other. I think he’s just lonely to be honest.” She looked so tired and Lila felt her temper spike the way it did when she found out what the class had done to Marinette. Why did everyone seem to think this type of thing was normal or okay?

“I don’t care if he’s completely isolated from the world, there’s no reason he should be putting you and all of Paris, or worse, at risk just because he wants to infringe on your boundaries. You shouldn’t have to put up with that period, especially when it makes your job harder.” The girl just blinked at her in confusion and Lila had to wonder what the hell was going on in this city. No, she didn’t have the greatest home life or example but she read a lot. She’d been through enough psychological books and journals to know that none of this was right. Why didn’t anyone seem to see that?

“I should probably get you home.” Ladybug wouldn’t even look her in the eye. Great, she’d screwed up, again. She wanted to apologize but she didn’t know where to even start. With her track record it probably wouldn’t come off as sincere anyway.

“If you just want to get me down to the street I can walk. There’s no reason for you to waste your time on it.” She winced when she realized how harsh that sounded. She really was terrible at social interactions.

“Making sure you get home safe isn’t a waste of time, especially after dark. Your mom’s probably worried.” Lila couldn’t help the derisive snort that left her. Even if she was in the city it was doubtful she’d care unless Lila’s absence became a problem for her. “I’m sure your mother cares about you.”

“I’m sure my mother regularly wishes I’d never been born.” It was moments like these that Lila wished her mouth would consult her brain before opening, but she was certain that wouldn’t ever happen. Ladybug was looking at her with a horrified expression. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Lila nodded. Talking didn’t do anything so there really was no point.

“I just want to sleep.” It wouldn’t be a good sleep, but it was better than nothing. Especially since she had to go back to school tomorrow. She didn’t even want to think about that trainwreck.

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

The next morning started off as badly as she expected it to. Over half the class cornered her in the courtyard demanding to know why she was pretending she’d been lying. By the time they’d given up she’d was hoping for an aneurysm just to be able to stop listening to this nonsense. Then Adrien had shown up to lecture her about getting Alya Akumatized. She’d honestly never wanted to hit someone so much in her life, but she did manage to refrain. She couldn’t refrain from calling him a spineless coward, but that at least got him to walk off in a huff.

“Lila!” She started cursing internally until she realized that had been Marinette’s voice. When she looked over the girl was running towards her waving some papers with a huge grin on her face. That was… weird. As she got closer Marinette tripped on a crack in the pavement and Lila had to move to catch her.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? The idiot squad is going to think you were trying to fall on me on purpose, and I really don’t want to have to deal with one more problem today.” Marinette just gave her a sheepish look. She really had no clue how bad things were.

“I found the perfect school for you!” For some reason her brain refused to understand that sentence.

“I… you… what?” Marinette shoved the papers she was holding in Lila’s face, far to close for her to be able to read anything.

“Look! The classes are by skill level not age so you won’t be bored like you are here. They do small class sizes and even have options for individual study so you can basically make your own curriculum. They’ve got one of the top computer programs in the country and they have a photography club too. Isn’t it great?” Lila finally managed to get the paper out of Marinette’s hands so she could actually read it and realized it was a brochure for a private academy.

“Even if I wanted to, my mother wouldn’t pay to send me to a place like this. Half the reason she keeps sending me to school is to not have to pay for tutors. Besides I’m not going to go off and leave you alone in this asylum. Especially given that the staff are just as bad as the inmates for the most part.” Marinette just gave her a confused frown.

“They’ll calm down in a few days, you’ll see. The school has scholarships you can apply for and look.” She pointed to a section at the bottom of the brochure. “They even have on site housing so the next time your mom has to move for her job you could stay there so your studies don’t get interrupted again.” Lila would admit it was tempting. Truthfully, her mother might pay for it if it meant she didn’t have to see her at all. She scanned the paper and an idea formed.

“I’ll go if you go.” Marinette just blinked at her so she pointed out the possible educational tracks. “There’s an art and design program that would give you a much better education for the future you want than anything you’ll get here. You need to start thinking about your future as well.”

“But I can’t just leave all my friends.” Lila wanted to slam her head into a wall. It would probably hurt less. She’d have to talk to Marinette’s parents. They at least would think about their daughter’s wellbeing and have a much better chance of getting her to do what was best for her.

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Ko-Fi

Tag List

@readeracctagmepls @aestheticnpoetic @akana-sama @schrodingers25 @runestarchild @paradoxal-occurance @heaven428 @animegirlweeb @deepestobservationwombat @iggy-of-fans @yin-390 @thehufflepuffranger-blog @trippingovermyfeet @misslenamooney @ladybug-182 @zalladane @pale-lady-dreamer @smolplantmum @peachedpocky @bezzy-d @naoryllis @sassakitty @18-fandoms-unite-08

#miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #lila redemption #angst #marinette dupain cheng

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Was It A Dream? (Sungchan Yuta x reader ft doyoung, jaehyun)

A/N : hello again!! This is a light, and fun fanfiction. It’s intended to make you just imagine how fun and chaotic it is to live with two brothers like Jaehyun and Doyoung. You have your eyes on Sungchan and Yuta, until one day they notice you. Join the fun of bickering and expect some plot twist okay!

WARNING : none, it is not rated and Yuta is flirty here. Doyoung and Jaehyun are your brother, but they’re also finding their way to win their s/o’s heart.

HERE WE GOOOO!!!

"Drooling over those two soccer players again?" Your second brother snickers when he finds you sitting on the podium watching the school's soccer team practice. You don't take your eyes off the two young men who look super charming to you especially when they are playing soccer.

Without looking to your older brother you reply "So what? Like you're not eyeing that cheerleader boy too?" That hits him right on the spot, Jaehyun has no words to attack you back. Just when you thought you can gaze on the two princes of your life; your oldest brother surprises the two of you.

"Yak! Doyoung stop doing that! We can have heart attacks!" Jaehyun wipes his shoulder as if cleaning himself from his own brother's touch. You don't get surprised that much and still watch at the two man, the tall Korean guy from your math class Sungchan and the Japanese guy who shares writing class with you, Nakamoto Yuta. They were both older than you but you've fallen for their charms. Both are the aces of the team and you always stay after school on their training days to just watch them from afar.

"Let's go home! I can't believe my sister and brother are this creepy." Doyoung shudders when he sees how focused Jaehyun is in watching that cheer squad leader, Taeyong and his sister (y/n) is sending laser beams to Yuta and Sungchan. 2 men at the same time! Doyoung just shakes his head and notes his watch, it's time to go home. It's almost five and as a student on his last year, Doyoung has extra classes to attend and he was tired. He wants to just go home and sleep, unlike Jae and you who still have the energy to sit there and look like a creeper.

"Okay we're going home now." He stresses his words and pinches yours and jaehyun's shoulders before walking away to the parking lot. "Aish why Doie can't let us have our time?! He's just jealous he doesn't have anyone to look at." You complained Jaehyun reluctantly picks his bag and stands up "Come, I am not walking home." He reaches out his hand for you and you take it. He pulls you to stand and you reluctantly leave the stadium.

"Oh she's going home already?" Yuta asks to his friend when there's a slight break and he sees you being dragged by Jaehyun. The tall man looks to the area Yuta's watching and nods "Guess Jaehyun brought her home by force."

Yuta smiles "She's never taking her eyes off you." Says Yuta and playfully punches sungchan to tease him. Sungchan laughs "I thought she has her eyes on you! I swear she's always sending you that heart eyes when you're running on field."

Yuta smirks "Was she checking out on both of us at the same time?"

Sungchan shrugs his shoulder and finishes his last bottle "I don't know, shall we see who is she actually crazy for?"

Yuta ponders but curiosity takes over his mind "Actually I am curious of that! What do we do?" Sungchan whispers something to the Japanese guy's ear and his smile widens when he imagine how fun will this be. "That sounds interesting!"

---

"Hey (y/n)-" Sungchan taps your shoulder before you stand up from your chair to leave the class. You turn to look at the man tapping your shoulder

"Oh Sungchan-" you look a bit surprised. The tall guy smiles "I saw you yesterday on the podium, guess you like soccer huh?" Your mind wants to scream "no i'm just there to watch you and Yuta...." but you'll just creep him off so you nod your head "Um yeah I grew up with two brothers so I'm more into sports than drama." You lied. Your brothers don't watch soccer :")

"Cool I have a ticket for you so you can watch us. It's the VIP pass. You can come meet us when we're done." Sungchan hands you a ticket and you can't contain your happiness. Well the VIP ticket is expensive and hard to get, even if you have the money sometimes the tickets are sold out already so you're super happy when you get this.

"Woah thank you! I'll definitely come and watch you!" You keep the ticket and walk with Sungchan in the hallway. Your heart is not calm at all, you're going to burst any time soon if this guy did not stop talking to you. "What's your next class?" Sungchan asks you since he also has another class to attend. "Writing, I gotta go." You nervously squeeze your bag and Sungchan did the most unexpected thing. He nods and brings his hand to ruffle your hair "Okay then, guess I'll see you again on my training day." He winks and walks away leaving you speechless with his words and act.

Before your mind can work again someone else has already place a hand over your shoulder. "Hey writing starts in 5 minutes, if we don't rush there, we'll be late." Another deep voice greets your ears. You shake your head, trying to get rid of all ridiculous hallucinations you're having but when you feel your shoulder heavy and someone is breathing next to you.... your legs feel like giving up. "Yuta?" You stammer Great… Sungchan just left you after his heart fluttering actions and this flirty Japanese guy is here.

Well Yuta's known for his flirty side and his tsundere side looks like he is on his flirty side today. "Come (y/n) we need to rush." He squeezes your shoulder and drags you to walk with him to the class. You follow his large steps, your heart beating even faster when you feel his body sticking into yours. You made it on time to the class. The last chairs available are the one in the back and you're sitting next to Yuta for the first time. Yeah you never have the balls to sit beside him, you'll just get distracted and you don't need that right now. But here you are! Seating next to Nakamoto Yuta who's laid back on his chair, playing with his pen, and then focuses on scribbling something. You try to keep your eyes on the board but his hand movement you can see from the side of your eyes caught your attention more. In the end, like attracted to a magnetic field, you turn your head to find out what is making him super focused.

Yuta caught you staring into his paper, trying to figure out what he is scribbling and before you can look away, he holds your hand rips his notebook and places the paper on your hand. Then he pushes your hand to you, and you stare at the paper on your hands. There Yuta just drew a sketch of you holding a hand banner with his jersey number on it. On the bottom corner right, he added his signature and a small note "For my number 1 sweetheart fan

You want to gawk at him that no you're not his number one fan, or yes you are but your mouth can't say anything. "Wow this is nice. Thanks Yuta..." you look into the Japanese guy and wonder just how many more talents he had that you never know. You know Yuta's great in writing, especially since this class is about fictional writing, he aces this class. His plots and imaginations are wonderful and now his drawing skills can make him a successful comic writer if he did not want to be a soccer player! Really Japanese people are mostly great at arts eh?!

"You like that?" Yuta asks when he sees the glimmer in your eyes. You nod "I love it! Gosh Yuta you can be an illustrator and even make a comic out of your stories."

He chuckles "I know, but that's not what I want."

"So what do you want?" You curiously ask him and the man smirks "I want you to come with me this afternoon to a cafe I love."

Boom! Yuta just asked you out on a date. "Me? You're asking me?" You point yourself Yuta nods "Yes you, who else am I talking to?"

You stutter "I- I mean yes I'd love to." He closes his notebook and picks his pen "Okay then, see you at two on the union building."

He leaves after throwing a sweet smile to you and you're once again glued to your seat. You squeal secretly when there is no one and what did you dream of having two of your stars hitting on you. You meet Yuta that afternoon, he treats you on a coffee and both of you ramble on your favorite anime that he watched too. With his Japanese tone he can tease you with some of the male lead lines and you're really dying inside. "Yuta, thank you for the treat, it was great talking to you!" You bid farewell because he needs to attend his soccer club.

"No problem, you're going to watch me?" He asks while standing up and picking up his bag. "I want to, but I have essays to write." You frown.

Yuta ruffles your hair "Himnae! You can watch me in the real match this week. See you!" He waves when he sees your ride has arrived. Yes Jaehyun picks you up and you disappear behind the door.

“Pinch me! Hyung pinch me!!” you shake Jaehyun’s shoulder. He looks at you with an annoyed face and pinches you on your cheeks.

“Happy?” he mischievously grins and pulls your cheek harder. You wince at the pain and slap his hand away “Enough!”

“You ask for it!” he taunts, and you bring one hand to soothe the red cheeks, “I AM NOT DREAMING!”

Jaehyun just shakes his head at your antiques, he drives safely back home while you’re busy opening your bag to check the ticket Sungchan gave and Yuta’s drawing. When you find both of them in your possession, you kiss both papers and laugh happily. Jaehyun really looks at you like you’re being possessed, and he should slap you to reality, and he did that on the red light.

“WHAT?!” you yell when he slaps you hard enough.

“I thought you might be possessed.” He shudders

“I am not. Look, I got a VIP ticket for this week’s match and a nice portrait of me from Yuta!” you show your brother the papers and he pulls out an “Eeew you’re like a crazy in love teenagers.”

You taunt at him, “Admit it if you’re jealous. I don’t care what you say. I am not dreaming; today is not a dream and this week I’ll be seeing my men up close!”

Jaehyun laughs at you nevertheless, well he is happy as long as you’re happy and Doyoung? Guess he’ll just stay quiet until Doyoung watches you boast about the same thing to him too.

“For your information, you just got a ticket right?” Jaehyun suddenly asks you when both of you are taking the lift to the sixth floor.

You nod your head and Jaehyun just smirks, “I won Taeyong’s number already.”

If the lift door is not opened, you will already scream out loud “What?! When?”

But since the door is opened and other residence and your oldest brother comes in view you decided to stay quiet.

Doyoung notices the fishy look on Jaehyun’s face and your surprised face. He wonders what silliness he should deal with again today, but he won’t ask if no one is going to tell.

In the end, Doyoung figures out about your meeting with Sungchan and Yuta. He also hears Jaehyun boast around about his closeness to Taeyong now, and he’s tired watching the two of you bicker about being closer to have them in your hands.

“You two, actually (y/n) bet to me that Jae wouldn’t get Yong’s number but he did, so you owe me 20.” Doyoung suddenly smirks as he hands out his palm of hand and you roll your eyes as you stand up to get your wallet and pay him.

Doyoung then turns to Jaehyun, “And you, when did you win Taeyong’s number?”

Jaehyun thinks for a while, “Yesterday?”

Doyoung smirks, “I have gotten Jeno’s since last week. Pay up!”

You hang your mouth when you realize just how smart and tricky Doyoung is in making you lose and Jaehyun lose too.

Jaehyun felt cheated, but in the end he has to pay up too. Both you and Jaehyun look cross to Doyoung and together mutter,

“JUST WAIT AND SEE.”

end.

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sunnydaleherald · 3 years

Text

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, April 17th

WILLOW: (winces) Um ... Buffy, this thing with Spike, i-i-it isn't true, is it? You didn't, you know, sleep with Spike? BUFFYBOT: No. Willow smiles with relief. BUFFYBOT: I had sex with Spike. (Willow winces again) I'm sorry if it bothers you. You're my best friend. WILLOW: I-I am. And I, I always will be, no matter what you do. I, I'm just trying to figure out why this happened, and I, I think with ... your mom and everything ... everyone was being all sympathetic, and, and making you feel weak. A-and Spike wasn't like that. So, just this one time, you just ... did something kinda ... crazy. BUFFYBOT: (shakes head) It wasn't one time. It was lots of times. And lots of different ways. I could make sketches.

~~Intervention~~

The Sunnydale Herald is currently looking for a few new editors. For more information, send us an ask (on Tumblr) or post a reply to this post (on Livejournal or Dreamwidth)!

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

What's the Last Thing to Cross the Mind...? (Buffy, Spike, FRMA-V) by nondenomifan

The Sixties, They Were a Different Time, Man (Spike, OC, G) by WinterCoffee

Innocence (Dawn/Spike, M) by RoselynnThornwood

Book Club Part IV: The Vampyre (Eddie/reader, not rated) by seasonschange-butpeopledont

“Can you just please hold me?” (Giles/Jenny, not rated) by sircarolyn

After the Flood (Buffy, Angel, T) by BloodyThornn

Big Brother (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by VampyricRose

[Chaptered Fiction]

Ancient And Modern (Revised), Chapter 1 (Harry Potter crossover, M) by Rod

Wiccan Expo, Chapter 11 (Ensemble, Charmed crossover, T) by slayer681

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Seeley Booth, Bones crossover, T) by Ilovebooks10

The path to redemption, Chapter 25 (Ensemble, BtVS/AtS crossover, T) by Aragorn II Elessar

Avengers, Slayer, Devil and Stones, Chapter 8 (Ensemble, Avengers crossover, T) by Aragorn II Elessar

Situation : Dead Men Are Walking, Chapter 7 (Ensemble, Walking Dead crossover, T) by InuNekoLexi

A Jedi, a Wizard, and a Scooby walk into a bar, Chapter 23 (Xander, Star Wars and Harry Potter crossover, T) by slocuautla

Continuity and Context - a WWS story, Chapter 5 (Willow/Tara, T) by absolutefem

What She Left Behind, Chapter 92 (poetry) (Buffy, Charmed crossover, K) by No Fate 1990

Genesis, Chapter 75 (poetry) (Buffy/Spike, K+) by No Fate 1990

Two Spikes, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, T) by mimeTEC

Second Chance, Chapter 11 (French language, COMPLETE) (Buffy/Angel, K) by Mel023

Slayers and Trollhunters, Chapter 3 (Buffy, Trollhunters crossover, T) by Starfox5

The Wiccan, Chapters 1-2 (permanent WIP) (Ensemble, T) by ElderDragonEffect

The Witch and The Watcher, Chapters 1-4 (permanent WIP) (Giles/OC, T) by ElderDragonEffect

The Vampire as Metaphor, Chapter 38 (William the Bloody, PG 13) by regertz

Symbiosis Across the Multiverse (Ensemble, T) by TheDivineDemon

Dare, Chapter 29 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by Sigyn

Mirror Reflection, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Electric Heart

Mortal Allies Series, Episode 4: My Turn, Chapter 22 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

The Beginner's Guide to Dating A Ghost, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by sweetprincipale

The Warlock's Nephew, Chapter 9 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by AlloSpoike

All Quiet on the Summers Front, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, R) by lex_hex

Perfect Fit, Chapter 96 (Ensemble, literature/fables crossover, FR13) by vidicon

Moonshot, Chapter 4 (Faith, Buffy, Anita Blake crossover, FR15) by Ava

Ancient And Modern (Revised), Chapter 1 (Harry Potter crossover, FR18) by Rod

Praying to a Chapel Made Her a Fallen Angel, part 1 (Willow, not rated) by ILLYRIAN

[Images, Audio & Video]

Comics edit: Spike: Into The Light (1) by peroxidepoems

Comics edit: Spike: Into The Light (2) by peroxidepoems

Fan art: Spike (worksafe) by yenserit

Fan art: Acathla pendant by

Fan art: Spike sticker (worksafe) by Koniguen

Fan art: Sailor Moon as a Slayer (worksafe) by mina_martin

Video: Spike & Buffy | its still all about you by rand0m Edits

Video: Faith the Slayer - Night Crawling by Jewel_Fire

Video: Buffy & Angel || Hold on by Hallister

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Buffy + Angel) by C Brown

Video: Dark Willow || Wandavision Version by BuffyCave

[Reviews & Recaps]

Buffy rewatch: S02E13-14 by three-blogs-in-a-trenchcoat

BUFFY 3x15 EP “CONSEQUENCES” by enchantedpersephone

The Prom episode 3x19 just made my heart fly away through the skies by enchantedpersephone

Help, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 7 x 04 episode by avrelia

Just finished rewatching s3 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by raymondebidochonlifechoices

Discussion of 1.08 "I Will Remember You" - Aired 11/23/99 (WB-US) continued by Stake fodder

Reacting to Reactions: BtVS Season 4 continued by Stoney

Reacting to Reactions: AtS Season 1 continued by Stoney

20 Year Rewatch - "Angel Gang Adventures! Pyleaquest" s02e19-22 by Ohigetjokes

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Season 2 Review by Critical Overlord

[Recs]

New Spuffy Fanfic Recommendations: Nothing is Finished, by Stuffandnonsense recced by flow

Favourite Podcasts recced by Cheese Slices

[Fandom Discussions]

Looking for a roleplay partner for BTVS by gl00myskies

Curious what it is you dislike so much about Angel? by marinxttes

Buffy can tell the friends of a suicidal girl that she was a weak loser and deserved to die by rahirah

Spike being peak drama by yourfriendlyneighborhoodbimbo

Spike wearing khakis while being tortured by the First by yourfriendlyneighborhoodbimbo

Buffy should’ve been given a female love interest by sapphophobe

Another lens to possibly understand Spike by AnthonyCordova

Kendra Appreciation continued by Cheetah and others

What if Kendra had been turned into a vampire? continued by 71 Avalon and darkspook

Which characters do you think are most similar from other franchises by burrunjor

Question Zachary Kralik by 71 Avalon

Is the Slayer’s ‘death wish’ depression? by multiple authors

The Tree Scene in AYW by SpuffyGlitz

What themes are strongest/weakest? by multiple authors

Slayers, their families and the Council continued by Stoney and flow

Just binged (for the first time) all seasons [of Angel] by Toxic_Wasteland_2020

Does anyone else wish Groo and Anya met? (2) by Carrierunnaway

If Buffy The Vampire Slayer was rebooted who would you cast and what would you change? by numark5555

Drusilla never really returning in Buffy as a major villain was such a missed opportunity by precita

Just rewatched Ted. Why didn't they tell Joyce the truth? by crashdown27

Am I supposed to be watching Angel WHILE watching Buffy?? by yyouriley

Buffy's alliance with Spike in Becoming Part 2 is a turning point for the show by indigenous_bean

What is your favorite Spuffy kiss and why? by Eggo999

Does anyone else wish Groo and Anya met? (1) by Carrierunnaway

Is there any official place to get hold of the comics online? by dreadful_name

What would the show be like, if it was MA-rated? by Proud3GnAthst

Imo the last episodes of s5 were great by Eggo999

Forever 20th anniversary. Spike remembers Joyce and Angel is there for Buffy, both showing support in their own ways during her grief by Use_Her-Name

Buffy in the wild by slightlychaoticevil

I'm glad Sineya borrowed Tara's form to speak through and not Angel's by LightBlueSky55

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #ats

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