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#a little angst if you squint
straykidsnerd255 · 1 year
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Hello ! I hope you're fine !😊 If it's okay for u , Can i request how the Gold Saints ( with Albafica , Asmita , El Cid , Kardia , Shaka , Milo , Mu and Saga ) will deal with a daughter ( reader who is a child [ like 8 or 9 years old ] ) who is a crybaby , don't like to fight , she has a low self-esteem , and don't want to follow her father's steps ? And one day , she yelled at them " i never asked to train to become a saint ! I don't want to follow your steps ! I just want to live a peaceful life ! Why don't u understand that i'm scared ? Ik that i'm weak ! I can't save and protect anyone ! I'm so useless ! " Then , she broke down in tears , how they'll react after that ? Thank u for taking the time to read my request ! ❤ don't forget to rest and drink water ! Also , i love your writing ! Keep going ! ❤❤❤❤
Here you go! Thank you so much and I’m sorry this is so late!!!
Reader will be 8 turning 9
Albafica: “ I never asked to be like you dad!” Albafica felt his heart sick at his daughter’s words. “I don’t want to follow in your footsteps because I am weak! I’m not strong like you dad! I cry too easily. I get hurt too easily. Why don’t you understand that I am scared and weak! I can’t save anyone like you.” Albafica watched his daughter crumble to her knees crying. He sighed softly and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. “I’m sorry for pushing you. I didn’t realize that was how you felt. I apologize.” He whispered as he rubbed her back trying to calm her tears and hiccups down. “Even if you don’t become a saint, I will still love you unconditionally.” He whispered, smiling down at her.
Asmita: You dropped to your knees in tears. Sweat falling off your forehead and you fought to not cry out loud. “I can’t do it dad. I can’t be like you. I’m too weak. I’m too scared.” You looked up at your father and watched as he crouched down to your level. He placed a hand on your head and gave you a soft smile. “You don’t have to take my place if you don’t feel up to the task. I won’t be mad at you. I never wanted to subject you to that path in life. You are not weak. Not by any means. I love you and would rather you live a normal life.” Asmita leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and helped you up.
El Cid: “I don’t want to succeed you dad! I’m too weak! I can’t live up to your standards!” You yelled standing up from the ground. El Cid was taken back by your outburst but didn’t say anything. “I’m not strong like you dad. I can’t do what you do. I don’t want to be a saint. I’m not strong. I’m scared. I’m weak.” You said hugging yourself. El Cid walked over to you and dropped to his knees. “Don’t worry. If you don’t want to be a saint that’s fine. I will still love you either way. You are my daughter after all.” He said, smiling at her softly and pulling her into a hug.
Kardia: “I don’t want to become like you dad! I’m scared and I’m weak. There is no way I can live up to your expectations!” You yelled at your dad as he supervised your training. Kardia sighed before dropping to his knees and placing his hands on your face. “Sweetheart. I don’t want you to live up to my expectations. You don’t have to take my place as the next gold saint if you don’t want to. I would rather you be happy than be miserable. You are my daughter and I want you to be happy.” He said pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head
Shaka: “I can’t do it dad. I can’t be the next saint because I’m too weak! I’m not as powerful as you are.” You cried out glaring at the floor. Shaka opened his eyes and sat in front of you. “Do you not want to be a saint?” He asked, placing his hand on top of your head. You shook your head and felt more tears falling down your face. Shaka reached forward and wiped the tears from your face. “Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt me one bit. I still love you and will always love you.” He said.
Milo: You screamed in frustration and kicked a rock in anger. Milo raised his eyebrow before seeing the tears falling down your face. “I don’t want to be like you, father! I can’t be like you! I’m not as strong as you. I’m just a weakling. I can never be like you! “ You cried out looking at your father with anger and hurt in your eyes. Milo walked over to you and knelt down in front of you. “You don’t have to be like me. I will always love you no matter what.” He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.
Mu: You dropped to the floor with tears falling down your face. “I can’t do it dad! I’m not as strong as you! I’m not talented like you! I will never be like you! I just can’t do it!” You pressed your hands to your face and cried loudly. Mu watched you as his heart broke. He knew you were a tad bit weaker than normal kids your age and that always made him worry for your safety. “You don’t have to be like me honey. I just want you to be able to kick someone’s ass if needed.” He said, as a smile appeared on his face when you giggled.
Saga: You dropped to your hands and knees with sweat dripping from your face. “I- *huff* I can't do it, dad.” You said, while standing. Your body shook from the force of the training you just went through. Saga sighed and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by you again. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong. I’m weak. I can’t fight and I certainly can’t make it through training. I’m a failure.” You said sitting on a rock wall covering your face with your hands. Saga sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around your shoulder. “I don’t want you to be like me. Don’t change who you are because of what I am. Be yourself and I will always love you.” He said softly.
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sof1shticated · 2 months
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[ you're the only friend i need- ribs by lorde x nortrell ]
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cloudysarts · 2 months
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imagine if the federation tried to make a phoenix with birdperson's daughter wouldn't that be fucked up hahaha < insane
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like father like daughter.
(pr0/c0mship dni)
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fungiac1d · 1 year
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Turning blood stained water into gold.
About how greed is silent as poison.
Mammon x MC (gender neutral)
TW: Mentions of blood.
You couldn’t say when it started,  maybe it was in one of those days in the subway, sitting silently while looking at yourself in the window, people surrounds you and yet you are awfully alone,
so much people
and so much silence,
it felt asphyxiating.
Still, life is great you wake up in the morning and comb your hair in a manner that is, maybe, a little bit rough  and would make your mother scowl at you.
Then you go for breakfast in the sweet summer morning, your mouth and lips are dry, the insects buzz outside  or maybe they don’t perhaps they are being drown in the dirty air, in the killer noise of a city.
Where you are at doesn’t matter at all,
does it?
Maybe it started while you were dressing yourself,
do you want bigger clothes? Smaller clothes? A different body? Is yours awkward and painful? You look at yourself in the mirror, standing alone in the room, 
a distant voice echoes inside: What do you want? How much do you want?
Scared you look around, confused by the sound. It’s the room? Or is it you?
One day you are walking, you stop at one of these many shops. There is something beautiful in the showcase; your insides squirms with need. 
It’s so nice, so nice, you would reach out for it. You can feel your eyes caressing it but your hands are deep inside your pockets.
23:05.
Tonight you are wondering about it, what did you see? What did you really see? Someone by your side in the subway? Your mother, combing your hair sweetly? Did you hear insects? Or a killer noise, a reminder of all the people around you? Clothes? A better body? Money?
The water of the bath hugs you, you are shivering in the darkness, you really don’t know when it started but now you can’t stop it,
the wanting, the need,
the voice sounds louder,
you are sure now: it’s inside. 
What do you want? How much do you want?
You want to scream,
you want a lot and it’s  tearing you open yet you really couldn't answer if someone asked what you crave from. The voice is hammering it ways out of your body, your mouth is bleeding, have you bitten yourself?
You shiver in the warm water and suddenly you know, he is there behind the bathroom curtain. He has bright eyes and he could turn your blood stained water into gold or maybe he will just rot you from the inside with need.
Your heart churns  and you see light. A silent poison, we  crave for things,  for experiences, we want to grab everything we can with our hands, even if it freezes or burns 
and we call it freedom,  reality is sadder.
“Humans desire is bigger than them,”
you hear him.
“and infinite search for pleasure,
for everything, 
it really  does not matter where you are, does it?”
Under this heaven, there was never an option.
He holds your face, you can feel the warm skin against your flesh.
“What do you want?”
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surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year
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Revenge
Notes: Again, pulled this off my phone's notes, and it has been seen by most ppl on the gc, but for anyone else, here you go. I'm sorry, but ISTG high schooollll. . .ughhhhh
TW: blood, death, violence, past trauma, restraints, bone fractures, kidnapping
"I'm not a sadist, no. I don't enjoy the infliction of pain. Especially on innocents. The concept makes me rather sick."
Hero circled the room languidly, in a rather preditorial fashion. "But if I'm being completely honest, I do have a bit of a thirst for revenge."
"Revenge? Who even are you?" his captive asked.
He let out a shrill, cold cackle. "Don't you remember your little nightingale? Your favourite pet?" he spat. He lifted his hood, revealing his face.
And sure enough, it was him. He used to be a skinny, little thing, but now, he towered above him easily, and even though he remained somewhat slender, he obviously had a much stronger build. His face went from being somewhat childlishly soft even in its bony countenance to being harshly contoured with sharp lines. The nightingale had grown up. He wasn't an adult, no. He looked about sixteen, maybe seventeen.
Even if Supervillain was bound harshly to the chair with relentlessly tight ropes, he was determined to have the upper hand. He had a hold on this kid, he'd marked him, scarred him enough, and through all of his pride, he'd made him beg. It didn't matter if the intention was to escape, it still happened. One blissful time. And it was this boy's utter refusal that made him so beautiful to break. It was rarer, scarcer and thus more valuable.
"Oh, so you got all big and strong just to fight me, nightingale? How thoughtful of you!" he chirps with misplaced enthusiasm.
The crime-fighter laughed again, and it almost looked genuine as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Don't give yourself so much credit. You don't occupy that much space in my head. I trained for myself. I got stronger because I wanted to. You didn't inspire anything in me aside from this visceral urge to rip everyone who ever wronged me to shreds. I'm not giving you a taste of your own medicine. I'm giving you a taste of my most bitter poison."
"But you still made the effort to show up, no?"
"I told you. I'm into revenge. It's nothing personal. You're a liability to me. Means to an end. Basically, I'm a bored cat and you're my plaything. You've stripped yourself of the right to be treated like a human being." He shrugged casually as though they were talking about what they liked to order at a coffee shop.
"Well, what lovely activities have you got planned for me, nightingale?" the evil-doer crooned sweetly.
Hero swiftly sliced through the ropes with a knife. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him harshly across the room. He wasted no time on kicking him down roughly with the heel of his boot. He didn't give him any chances to recover. Aiming cruel punches to his face and kicking his ribs so many times he'd practically smashed his entire ribcage. All while the older man let out maniacal laughter.
"What a beautiful show you're putting on! Wondering what you might want with this?" he wheezed.
Cartwheeling and letting his boot smash mercilessly into his chest, the boy let out a downright animalistic snarl. "What I want, is to give you what you ultimately deserve. I was just some kid. Hurt, broken and na��ve, and you turned me into a goddamn toy. And maybe sick people like you think it's funny, but none of your victims share the sentiment."
He wheezed again, sputtering blood. "Are you going to kill me, nightingale?" Supervillain let his voice drop down to a stage whisper.
"Of course I will. But this theme park has rules. Can't experience the giant roller coaster without going through all the other rides now can we?" His voice dropped dangerously low, dripping pure venom.
He ended up breaking almost every single bone in his former tormentor's body. All with nothing but his own hands smeared in blood that wasn't his and his feet that were clad in heavy combat boots. And endless cycle of throwing him against the wall "Like a single player game of catch," he'd stated, and he never gave him a chance to breathe, let alone get up.
He'd made sure every movement was an absolute pain. He'd rendered him useless now. If he'd thought he could power through this and break the boy's spirit once more, he was horribly mistaken.
"Nightingale, don't you think you've had enough fun for today?" he rasped out breathlessly, words feeling slow and heavy on his tongue that was now slick with blood.
His-previously-captive-turned-assailant laughed again, a sound almost as grating as nails on a chalkboard. "You better hope God has mercy on you because I don't. I am just a mere human being, lacking God's capacity to forgive atrocities. And this is far too personal."
He pulled out his knife and stabbed him in the chest so many times that he lost count. All the rage, pain, humiliation, just all of it fueled his every hit, blinding him with a flurry of pure, unrelenting hatred, like a monster drunk on its lack of mercy.
"N-never. . .never forget that I broke you before nightingale."
"Oh, and never forget that I built myself up and came back to break you, permanently."
He walked further inside, kicking the rusty himges of the ancient door down to find a little girl, same age as he was when he got taken by that sick freak. She tried to squirm away, useless against her restraints.
"Hey hey hey, relax. I won't hurt you. The man that took you, he's gone now." He crouched down to her level, expression soft and voice soothingly gentle.
"G-gone? When's h-he coming back?"
"Never, sweetheart. He's gone for good."
"Y-you killed him?" she whispered, terrified.
He bit his lip, not wanting to emphasise that he'd just committed first-degree murder to an eleven year old, but he nodded slowly.
He cut through the ropes, trying his best not to freak her out. The child got closer to him slowly, and as if on instinct, she wrapped her arms around his waist, or at least she tried to, and sobbed into his hoodie. He slowly reciprocated, taken aback by the gesture and surprised by how trusting she was. She was probably in shock, the poor kid.
He didn't let go until she did. "Do you remember any of your parents' numbers?" he asked.
"My mum's."
He talked to the mother, explaining exactly what happened as per the child's story. All the while he let the girl, frozen with fear, cling to him as they waited. Whispering words of comfort to try to get her to at least calm down.
After getting the location, she was eternally grateful to him for getting her daughter back.
And that was more than enough to outweigh any inkling of guilt he may have had for killing this psycopath. He'd spared so many kids, not just her, the hell he had been through.
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Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!
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wherethewordsare · 1 year
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Lark goes to underground boxing tournaments when things have been too quiet and his skin is too tight because he hasn't slept in days, waiting to be needed to fight and bleed and sacrifice.
It wasn't right away, but Nick finds out. He doesn't try to stop him. He doesn't lecture or ask why or try to talk him out of it. But he starts showing up with wrap for Larks busted knuckles and iodine for his cuts. Sometimes they don't even talk, Nick just simply wraps Larks hands, with as much care as he can possibly put into every inch of gauze.
Sometimes he'll heckle Lark for wincing as Nick dabs his bloody cheek. "You took three shots to the ribs and grinned. You can't take a little cotton swab?"
"You don't have to be here ya know," but Lark would turn his head letting Nick clean the worst of the blood by his ear.
One night Lark catches Nick at the door before he can even go in.
"Oh hey, man. Whats up?"
Lark doesn't say it. Doesn't say how tired he is or how much his bones won't settle or how far gone his thoughts are most of the time. He doesn't try to explain why every time he sees Nick coming to clean him up off the mat, he thinks maybe he could just let go of this need for structured chaos. Though he doesn't try because he doesn't understand it himself.
"Thought we'd change it up for tonight," Lark doesn't look at him but bounces anxiously on the balls of his feet. "Ya want to get a bite to eat?"
Nick stares at him for a long time as if trying to solve a particularly tricky math problem. But then he just shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and grins that same grin that makes Lark need to look away.
"Burgers beat the smell of iodine any day. Yeah."
Nick never tried to stop him, never told him off or made him feel small for needing something to feel more centered. He only came and made sure Lark didn't do it alone. It wasn't something Lark had to fight for, it just was. Maybe he didn't have to fight for every scrap of just being.
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PART 1 HERE
PART 2
Suggestive if you squint———————————————————————————————————————
"Thanks for the help, traveler."
"Anything for him to learn his lesson," she said, smiling.
You smiled back. You recently used your vision to fake your death, and with the help of the traveler, you succeeded. Before that incident, you had a chat with traveler and your situation with him. She was shocked, she didn't think the adeptus Xiao would do that, especially you. Even Paimon was shocked. You explained how he would always help her out and never help you whenever you ask him. You also mentioned about a picnic you planned and that he tood you up. No matter how much you love, care, or help him, he never listens to you.
"I didn't know he was that cruel to do you like that.." she told, putting a hand on yours.
"I just hope he can understand what he's doing. He just looks so head over rels over you after you came."
"I know what to do just for him to sob for you presence..if only you're up for it, of course."
"Of course, I'm ready for anything you plan.." you said, holding her hand with a smile on your face.
That's what happen before that incident. What you both did was that traveler had to buy fake blood and make it smell real. Then there's you, you had to look dead and lifeless, with the help with your cryo vision, it lowered the temperature around you and yourself. And boy, it was freezing. It took a few tries for you to make it look real with the help with some practice with Traveler and Paimon. After that, you three both planned when to do it, and decided to do it on that day. First, Traveler had to hang out with Xiao and distract him. While Paimon, had to rip small bits of your clothing to make it look real. You yourself painted the fake blood on yourself and god, it smelled real too. Oh how Xiao wouldn't know a single thing of what you three were doing. After Xiao carried your body to your favorite place, you were awed by the beautiful view. This was the place he first heard your singing and met you. He hummed the song you sang when he first met you, as his tears spilled out. Traveler hid in a spot in the area and snatch you before he saw you. Traveler ran for her life as she held you in bridal style. You felt a tingle in you stomach, no, this was only part of the plan, you knew you shouldn't feel like this towards her. Traveler quickly placed you down and you used you cryo vision to make a frozen bubble around you as you change the clothes you were wearing. Gosh, you were lucky it wasn't a spot Xiao knew. You were grateful for the traveler's help. After you finished, you kicked the ice and walked out like nothing happened. Traveler soon carried you to Beidou's ship, The Crux. She put you down gently and was about to step back but you pull her into a hug.
"Thank you so much...I owe you for this one," you said, letting go of you hug and smiling at her.
"Of course, anything to help," she answered, and smiled back.
"And bye to you Paimon, don't worry, I didn't forget you."
"Good, because Paimon thought you forgotten her! A—And goodbye!"
You waves them a farewell as the ship started. You sighed in relief, finally a new chapter of your life, starting at Inazuma. You heard the wonderful scenery there and you just have to absolutely go there! You were so happy, but also felt bad for Xiao, your ex-lover who was once your love. You didn't declare your break-up with him but leaving him is a way for him to know that you both are done.
"Hello there, I guess your the one we're delivering to Inazuma," he said with a soft smile on his face.
"Oh, um, yes. Are you going to Inazuma?" you asked.
He chuckled and said, "Oh no, I'm not going. I'm just a traveler who traveles with Beidou."
"Beidou? Is she the captain?"
"That's right. Anyways, what's your name? I'm Kaedehara Kazhua."
"Oh—I'M L/N Y/N."
"Nice to meet you, Y/N."
A few months later, he's already confessed his feelings to you. You've accepted and you both now have a house together but you both mostly travel together with Beidou and her crew. You both have come back from your trip from Sumeru and we're exhausted. You both were now at Liyue because Beidou had to see Ningguang.
"Gosh, that was tiring," you said, yawning.
"I know dove, but it was fun wasn't it?"
"I guess you could say that, you said, stepping out of the boat.
You both were looking for a place to stay, too bad to was farther than usual. You and Kazhua both made in in time before sun went down. You went up and asked a room for two of you to rest in. After you finish, you both decided to walk around for awhile. While walking with Kazhua, you felt a tug on your wrist.
"Y/N is that you?" a familiar voice asked.
You turned around and saw Xiao, your former lover. Xiao looks like he hasn't seen you in ages (obviously) . He looks into your eyes and gently touches your face.
"Excuse me, who are you?" Kazhua asked.
"Adeptus Xiao, who are you?"
"Her lover, you must be Y/N's former lover."
"Former? What does this mean?"
"Remember that time when you saw my lifeless body? I wasn't actually dead at that time."
Xiao looked at you with a shocked face
"B—But why? Why'd you do that?!"
"Simple, remember that time when Y/N had a picnic all set up? Yeah, and you stood her up, she waited until afternoon and you never came." A familiar voice said.
"And from what I heard, during the lantern lights, you went with Traveler instead of your lover," Kazhua said.
"To add to that, remember our anniversary? When I gave you that gift, I saw it in the trashcan afterwards. It took so much time on it and you decide to throw it away just like that? I can't believe I took so much time on it just for it to be thrown away."
"I—I didn't mean to, I didn't think it meant that much to you.."
"Yeah right! Paimon doesn't think that's a good answer!"
"To our understandment, I think you should move on from Y/N. It seems clear that she already moved on from you," Kazhua said, crossing his arms.
Xiao lowered his head, and answered, "Fine then. Go enjoy your lover. I won't bother."
He disappeared quickly in black smoke. You four sighed in relief.
"Thanks for the back up, traveller."
"No problem, I'm happy to help like I said all of those months ago," she said, smiling.
"Hey! Paimon deserves to be thanked too!"
"Of course, thank you too Paimon," you chuckled.
"I think it's time for us to go rest now, it's nice seeing you two again too," Kazhua said before turning around and taking your hand.
"So, after that, do you want to do something else?"
"I think I have something in mind for us to do," you said, beaming him a mischievous smile.
As you and Kazhua walk back to rest. Xiao watches from a far, wishing that you were his again, wishing that he never made those choices. Oh how he miss your gentle smile, your gleaming eyes, and your gentle voice. He deeply regrets everything, but for now, he'll protect and watch you from afar.
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PROOFREAD: ❌
GENRE: I HAVE NO IDEA 💀
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I FINALLY FINISHED OMG YAYAAYA I HOPE YALL ENJOY SOME WORDY PARAGRAPHS 😍😍😍
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coffeebanana · 1 year
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Destruction Spoilers Below the Cut
This might eventually turn into a longer fic, but I don't think it's going to be a priority anytime soon, so I wanted to at least get something out while the episode is still fresh in my mind.
I just think it's wild how Adrien Cataclysms Monarch (and is visibly shaken), then goes home, quits modelling, and calls up Marinette before falling asleep smiling? The compartmentalization OMG. So I wanted to play with that a little bit. And also, I couldn't figure out what kind of floor is in the wax museum when i checked the episode again to write this? So I made something up even though I sort of think it's supposed to be a stone floor...
The floor beneath the heroes’ exhibit of the wax museum of the didn’t make sense—Chat Noir knew that better than anyone. 
After all, he couldn’t keep himself from staring at it, from memorizing the way the stupid pattern of white dots repeated itself in a completely manufactured way. The material was a rubbery sort of soft, enough to have given a tiny bounce when Chat fell to his knees. Enough that he could easily have sank his claws into it if he hadn’t caused enough destruction tonight.
Chat drew in a shuddering breath as his ring beeped—was that the first one? The second? He didn’t want to check. He didn’t want to look at that hand, the one which had burned white lines into Monarch’s suit like cracked vinyl.
He didn’t want to think about what that hand might have done to the flesh underneath.
So he stared at the floor, even if he couldn’t understand it. Even if he didn’t even know what the material was called, and that also frustrated him.
It was just safer that way.
Staring at the floor.
He couldn’t destroy anything else if he didn’t move.
And he was fine staring at a floor that didn’t make sense if it meant he didn’t have to think about what he’d just done. 
His ring beeped again. Wait, no. That wasn’t his Miraculous. Not this time.
“Chat Noir?” Ladybug said, making him tear his eyes away from the floor just enough to see her stand. “We need to go.”
Chat nodded once, then dropped his head again.
She was right, even if he couldn’t figure out why. She was always right, and even if this whole night had been her plan, he didn’t blame her for a second.
It was his hand that spread decay. It was him who hadn’t realized what Monarch was doing until too late.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed her walk over.
“Chaton? Are you okay?”
He clenched his teeth, swallowing back the fiery feeling pushing its way up his throat. “Fine,” he managed. And once that lie was out, it was so much easier to keep going. “I’m fine, M’lady.”
He was fine. He had to be.
Even if it was almost like the people who had built this room had known it would be used by heroes made of more than just wax. Because why else would they install flooring here that was perfect for absorbing the shock of dramatic leaps and flips, when most of the other rooms had tiles?
But still, even if the floor didn’t make sense and he didn’t even know what search terms to put into Google to figure out what it was called, Chat would be fine.
Because Ladybug needed him to be. Because when he finally sat back on his heels and met her eyes, the concern he saw painted there hurt too much to contemplate.
Seeing her look at him like that made even less sense than the floor.
So he stood, he offered her his hand, and he pulled her into a tight hug. He stretched it out as long as he could before their Miraculous beeped again, and forced a smile as they made their way down opposite hallways to detransform.
He’d be okay, so long as she needed him. 
And after that, well…he might as well stop thinking about things that didn’t make sense.
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wikluk · 2 years
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the world keeps turning | fanfic
_________
Summary: Dolores laughed. “Just like– like when tía Julieta forbid you from– from eating sweet things before sleep because you’d have–” she wheezed. “you’d have too much energy! You threw a tantrum and– and flowers were everywhere–”
or
Celebrating Isabela’s eighteenth birthday ends up with Dolores coming to three different realisations: her gift works funny when she’s not sober, her heart beats faster when she looks at a certain young man... and Isabela's not so perfect after drinking a little too much.
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notthewintersoldier · 2 years
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Happy birthday, you old fucker. Hope the moon is fun.
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scarlet-bernard · 1 year
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Little OC dialog I had in mind with context!
Context: a king/husband kneels at and talks to his wife's grave after his wife and two of his children are killed by a higher authority to keep him in line. Prior to her murder, his wife asks him to swear that he would never go to war, for she does not want to be widowed and the day the universe loses him is the day the universe loses one of the brightest lights it has:
"I'm so sorry my love. But after the atrocities these men have committed, and the gall they had to take you and our boys away from me, I cannot keep my promise. I have declared war. I will soon lie with you, my sun. I wanted to say to you... as true as my word to you was, I am not strong enough to keep it without you by my side. They will soon know a world without me and perhaps that is for the best."
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straykidsnerd255 · 1 year
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Hello, I hope you are having a good day, can I request how Aphrodite, Shaka, Saga, Camus and Mu would be like Chise Hatori from Ancient Magus Bride with all his powers and sad past included, please 🥺
This one gave me a run for my money! I haven’t watched Ancient Magus Bride in a hot minute but I do remember small details! Hope you enjoy! I don’t think I did this justice. I might have to go and rewatch Ancient Magus Bride again.
Aphrodite:
Doesn’t understand why you are helping with the dishes and such. 
He doesn’t interfere because he sees the bright smile on your face and can’t help but coo at how adorable you look. 
When he finds out about your past and how you were sold, he is pissed beyond belief. 
“No one gets to sell my flower. How dare they.”
 “It’s ok Aphrodite, I’m safe now. I’m with you aren't I not?” You would stare up at him with doe like eyes and small blush on your nose. 
He would blush and have to look away but would sigh and lean down pressing his lips to yours. “I suppose you are right.”
Shaka:
You were what?! Shaka is shocked at hearing you were being sold before he found you in the flower field a few years ago. 
“How dare they treat you that way. How could they treat such a fragile human that way?”
Shaka is just shocked (No pun intended.) He could not believe that you were treated that way.
He wrapped his arms around you and kept you pressed to his chest. It was nice. You could feel yourself falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
Shaka ran his fingers through your hair and smiled in content when he saw you sleeping.
“I will never let anything like that happen to you again.” He mumbled.
Saga:
Murder on his mind
He is ready to commit arson and you nor Athena can stop him. How dare they do that to you? 
How dare they treat you like some kind of animal and try to sell you to the highest bidder. 
“That happened years ago. It's been about 10 years since that happened to me. You saved me Saga.” You whispered from where you were laying on his chest.
“But you were just 19 years old Y/n. Who knows what they could have done to you.” He winced as those dreaded ideas filled his mind. 
You took his face in your hands before pressing your lips to his. “Trust me. It never happened. You saved me before it could.” You said before pressing your lips to his again.
Camus:
Excuse me, they did what to you now?
He is instantly checking over your wrists to find the indents of the cuffs still there. His fingers tracing over the indents. 
Camus may not express his emotions all that much but right now, he was on the verge of falling apart and crying. 
You lifted your hands from his hands and pressed them to his face. His eyes filled with tears as the image of you wearing those cuffs filled his mind. 
“Camus, look at me. I’m ok now. You rescued me before anything could really happen to me.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against his. 
Camus closed his eyes before lifting his head and surging forwards. His lips collided with yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I will always protect you.” He whispered when he pulled back from the kiss.
Mu:
He stares holes into the wall as you tell him about being a near sold slave. 
“When I get my hands on the man I will wring his neck before killing him slowly and painfully.” He hissed under his breath.
You smiled before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. “Trust me. He was dealt with.” You said. 
Mu looked up at you before letting his eyes move over your body. They stopped when he looked at your wrists.
“Are these marks from those cuffs that you wore?” He asked gently, lifting your hands into his. 
You nodded your head and watched in awe as Mu leaned down and pressed kisses to your wrists. He ran his thumb over the wounds before looking up at you. “I will never let this happen again. I promise.” He whispered.
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radama-zard · 1 year
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Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022
Day 16 - Unreliable
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Fresh Cut Grass Angst
“Was it… Blue? It was definitely blue, right?”
Fresh Cut Grass drummed their fingers against his chest plate, glancing nervously down at the little leather notebook before him. The last thing they wished to do was consult it’s pages, but with how unreliable his memory could be it had become sadly necessary.
“Blue like Dorian. Dorian was blue, I know that! And they were blue too… weren't they?”
They loathed to think their memory was failing them so terribly that they couldn't even remember the hair color of the man they’d interrogated just yesterday. But they’d already misremembered his race (Fresh Cut Grass could have sworn the man was a dwarf, but no. Imogen had gently informed him that the guy was, in fact, a goblin. That had been both embarrassing and distressing.) so he couldn't really trust his memory all that well.
But he ABSOLUTELY had blue hair, Fresh Cut Grass was sure of it!
Still, their hands shook something fierce as they flipped open their notebook, finding their neat, print-like writing on the latest page.
Goblin. Male. He/Him. Ratty clothing. Leather armor. A twisting auburn ivy tattoo down his left arm. Golden eyes and…
Oh.
Although he lacked one, emotionally he still felt the equivalent of their heart dropping as they saw, clear as day, the answer they’d been dreading.
Brown hair.
“... Unreliable again,” Fresh Cut Grass whispered, heartbreak evident in his voice. A tone that didn't go unnoticed, as they felt a solid hand upon their shoulder.
“Don't be so harsh on yourself, Grass.”
Ashton's words came softer than usual, as did his touch. While both were usually comforting, for some reason tonight they simply made Fresh Cut Grass feel like sobbing. If only they COULD cry, then maybe they wouldn't be feeling so poorly.
“I can't even remember simple details, Ash! I've already lost so much of my past, and now I'm screwing up things that happened recently. I… How much more am I going to forget? I don't want to forget anything more… I don't…” their voice wavered, so raw and fragile one might fear that a breath too loud would shatter them.
“... I don't want to forget you all. Especially you, Ashton…”
Jade arms swirled with golden fissures pulled him in, holding them with a grip so tight. As though their embrace alone could hold together Fresh Cut Grass’s shattered memories.
“You won't. I won't let you forget a damn fucking thing about me, okay? Or the rest of the Hells. You're stuck with us for life, and we’ll make sure you remember every last stupid ass, obnoxious, annoying thing about us until you regret ever worrying about this shit!”
It wasn't something Fresh Cut Grass could entirely trust. This conversation could be gone from their memory by the morning’s first light. Still, they wanted to believe it… and they believed in Ashton above all else.
So they clung on tight, burying their face against Ashton’s leather vest.
“I don't think I could ever regret anything to do with you.”
At least his feelings for Ashton could be relied upon to stay true.
For now, in this moment, that was enough.
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saintchaser · 2 years
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"in the back of my mind, you died."
dorcas liked pretending like marlene was still alive. like maybe, one day, they'd see her again. they'd kiss her again, they'd love her again. and it would be fine again.
when they were away, with regulus and pandora, they started seeing her. she looked exactly what they remembered her to be, but there was an aura of ethereal white surrounding her, making her look both eerie and scary, much like a goddess.
but there was a little voice, something at the back of their head, that reminded them she was not there. "you've gone mad," it whispered, and maybe it was right. maybe they were out of their head; but that was what happened when they lost the only person they ever loved.
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randommw2writing · 1 year
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Jokes and Ghosts
TW: major character death, hallucinations, grief, angst
Also, spoilers for the game if you don’t know what happened, but also cannon divergence too.
Summary: Ghost is on a mission with Soap, but everything is different.
a/n: So spoilers if ya wanna read this blind, but I saw a post somewhere on tumblr (cannot find it again I’m sorry, but let me know if you had it) where it talked about Soap being a figment of Ghost’s imagination and Ghost realizing that, so I decided to take that idea and run. It isn’t exactly the same, but similar. So if you don’t like angst or nonfluffy stuff then I would not recommend.
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The world was silent around him in the pitch-blackness of the dilapidated house that sat down the block from his target…their target. The small sounds of his breath were the only thing that hung in his ear until his comms crackled to life in his ear.
“Say Ghost,” a chipper Scottish voice said in his ear, “What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in the ocean?” Ghost sighed and shook his head, he usually was the one with the fucked up sense of humor on missions, but Johnny… was something else.
“What, Soap?” he asked back in a low voice since he preferred to not blow his cover right now.
“Bob,” Johnny said with poorly disguised glee. 
Ever since that mission in Mexico, his teammate had been trying to mimic his English comrade’s terrible and dark sense of humor, with varying degrees of success. Unfortunately for Ghost, this was one of the better attempts. Ghost huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Something about the eagerness of his younger comrade had made Ghost feel almost human again. Even after going through so much and throwing away any lasting humanity for his country, Ghost still felt a small prickle of hope when he worked with the Scottish man. He could finally feel like maybe, just maybe, he could finally have something good in his life. 
“You need to find better jokes Johnny,” Ghost huffed, smiling behind his mask. A beat of silence and then Ghost spoke again, “Hey Johnny, what do you call a deaf dog?”
“What Lt.?” a gruff voice responded with resignation.
“It doesn’t matter, damn dog can’t hear you anyways.” Ghost smirked behind his mask as he heard Johnny’s guffaw over the comms. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted movement coming out of the target’s house.
“Bravo-Six I have movement in the target house appears target is putting his rubbish out at the curb,” silence greeted Ghost on the other end of the comms as the two men watched the target put the garbage out at the curb, leaving the confines of his home for the third time this week.
“Bravo-One come in, this is Watcher-One,” Kate Laswell’s voice echoed back at him.
“Watcher-One, Bravo-One coming in, copy,” Ghost echoed back, his nerves suddenly hitting him. 
“Bravo-One, you are cleared to enter the property and neutralize the target, the information regarding him has been confirmed. Remember, no trace and a clean scene. Collect brass and use a silencer.”
“Understood Watcher, Bravo-One out.” Ghost sucked in a breath with his teeth. Time to get dirty.
“Soap, you cover me while I go in and clean up, remember, it’s a quiet neighborhood,” Ghost growled out as he puts himself into the mindset of Ghost, the silent killer who could enter and leave any place without a trace of him left behind.
“Got it, Lt. This place will keep being very quiet, no worries,” Soap said with a seriousness that was unlike him.
Ghost pulled his pistol with the silencer attached and moved towards the darkened house. He knew the target was most likely either getting ready for bed or in it already. There were two main entrances to the building, the front and back door, but there were also several windows, so entry needed to be silent. No kicking down doors when the target could just shimmy out of a window as soon as Ghost was heard. Ghost decided on the back entrance since that entrance was less visible to any neighbors or passers-by. Quickly and silently Ghost picked the lock at the door, finally gaining entry fifteen minutes after the order was given by Watcher-One. Once the door swung open Ghost pulled up his gun before slowly making his way down the hallway. He saw the light in the bedroom was off, but the TV inside was flickering. Ghost moved in front of the door and held his breath for a minute. He didn’t fully know what this man did and why Laswell had determined it was his time to die. This man could have been a good man, he could have had a separate family. The man could have been his own father, and Ghost still would have done what he did. Slowly, he opened the bedroom door, pointing the gun at the man who lay in bed, in silky striped pajamas. He looked at the man with the skull mask in resignation.
“Is it my time?” he asked in slightly accented English. Ghost nodded. The man smiled at him before laying back and closing his eyes.
“Very well then, goodnight, my demon,” he took one final breath before the cold gun was pressed to his temple and the bullet was shot through his head. Ghost collected his brass, cleaned off his gun, and left the same way he came, numb and on autopilot.
“Hey Lt.,” Soap said quietly over comms.
“What Sergeant?” Ghost asked with a growl.
“What does my dad have in common with Nemo?”
“What?”
“They both can’t be found.” Ghost smiled, then laughed behind his mask. It felt desperate, a little weak, like the edge of a breaking point.
“Lt.,”
“That was a good one Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir.” There was a beat of silence before Soap spoke again, “Lt., you are okay. You’re human. You have to do your job, you’re just following orders, got it?”
“Yes, Johnny, thanks” came his gruff reply after letting out a shaky breath. He was able to get through this. It was just another job, if he didn’t do it then someone else would, the old man was just a target, nothing else. You will survive this, Simon, he thought to himself. 
He just let that thought run through his head as they went back to the base. Just another job, just another mission. 
The old man’s smile went through his mind again and his voice whispered in his ear, “Goodnight, my demon”. Perhaps he was a demon. Something that crawled from the depths of hell to haunt sinners that had done evil. Maybe he was evil incarnate, the snake whispering in Eve’s ear to then bring the whip down on her back in the afterlife. 
“Are you alright, Simon?” Price murmured to him with a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. Somehow coming enough out of his fugue state to realize he was in Price’s office. Alone with his captain. 
“Yes, sir,” he responded gruffly, staring at the floor. Then he was flooded with panic.
“Captain Price, where is Soap? Shouldn’t he be in this briefing as well?” A look of pity crossed Price’s face.
“Oh Simon,” he grimaced and shook his head, “You’re seeing Soap again?”
“Of course, Johnny’s our teammate, he’s invaluable and he was with me on the mission,” Simon starts rambling, “Didn’t you hear us on comms? He can really chat your ear off when he’s bored-” All of a sudden realization crossed Ghost’s eyes and a flash of pain sparked in his face. “Soap is dead sir-isn’t he?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, Soap died five years ago, in Las Almas, when Graves betrayed you two. He bled out on the street trying to get to you at the church,” Captain Price said gravely keeping the emotion out of his voice. Ghost wilted immediately and crumpled into the chair across from Price.
“I can’t get him out of my head,” Ghost stared into the distance, “Am I evil, sir? Am I a demon? Is that why they keep dying? Every person around me?” Price sighed.
“No, Simon, you’re not evil, you’re no demon or boogeyman that crawls out from hell with every mission you take,” Price got up and stood in front of the very broken man, “You’re a man, a soldier who takes and saves lives every day. You just got shit luck.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ghost looks up at Price, slightly put back together, “Do you still need the debrief?”
“It’s late, Simon, get some sleep,” Captain Price said exhaustedly before collapsing into his chair behind his desk, “We can go over everything in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Ghost nodded, before getting up and leaving the office.
“Hey Lt.,” he heard the voice of Soap in his head again, “Why wasn’t the one-legged man buried?”
“Why?” Ghost asked himself.
“Because he only had one foot in the grave.” Hearing Soap’s laughter bounce around his head, Ghost smiled under the mask, ignoring the pain of the loss of his friend and comrade while pretending, even for just a moment, he and Soap were walking down the hallway, saying dumb jokes before debriefing. 
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garden of mediocrity
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Summary: He won but the gaping hole inside his chest seemed to widen and Naruhaya’s gray shadow of despondency was looming over him like a curtain over his senses.
Characters: Isagi Yoichi & Naruhaya Asahi
(A/N: Out of all the side characters that I’ve encountered in this franchise, Naruhaya is probably my favorite and his match against Isagi will always break my heart a little because of the outcome. Some of the italicized dialogues are excerpts directly from the manga itself. Hence, I don’t own anything from the franchise except for this little one shot of mine. Without further ado here’s a little tribute to them. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did when I wrote it).
“Thank you Isagi… For taking me down…”
His words continued to haunt himevery now and then.
Isagi was lying on his bed and stared at the ceiling in the middle of the night wherein he should be sleeping like his teammates down there to prepare with their next match on the next day.
It’s as if Naruhaya’s voice and presence were a smog from the past that continued to wriggle around his consciousness when he’s not busy or anything.
Isagi remembered that day.
Remembered that time of a slip into an aching weakness.
He clenched his fists.
He knew that for them to move things forward and keep going up, he needed to get and ally himself with stronger teammates.
Choosing Barou over Naruhaya was a logical decision that he’d made.
But at the tip of his tongue, it was burning.
Burning to utter the words of Naruhaya Asahi to join their team but he quickly suppressed it.
He knew that look of despair in his eyes.
The crestfallen expression on his face was something he was familiar with before he joined the Blue Lock and he was a complete nobody in his school’s team of soccer who was striving to make a name for himself.
Isagi turned around bed and became face to face with a wall. It’s as if being face with another sight would make his mind quiet down in the dead of the night.
Only it wasn’t.
“I… will go win for you, too!”
“…What are you talking about? Isagi… Someone that naïve and kind will lose right away in here…”
Naruhaya was right. Displaying such naivete in the oppressive environment such as Blue Lock would expose his own weaknesses that could be his downfall in the long run.
He should be used to this.
There will come a time that he’ll probably face some of those familiar faces from Team Z and he’d encounter this scenario once again.
But why was his win against Naruhaya felt like an aching loss to him?
He won but the gaping hole inside his chest seemed to widen and Naruhaya’s gray shadow of despondency was looming over him like a curtain over his senses.
Was it because he understood the mediocrity that the other felt and the desperation of wanting to win and be able to go on toe on toe with the prodigies in Blue Lock which seemed utterly familiar to him?
They were flies in this environment.
An insect from which if you’ll remove from the equation, the rest can still go on with their daily lifestyle as if their existence was not needed in the first place.
In the end, they came from the garden of mediocrity where they were faceless husks of flies striving to the dazzling light of these geniuses.
Nevertheless, he was able to move things forward as a result and ended the journey of Naruhaya in that single moment.
But why was his soul crushing look of defeat continued to shadow his entire being in those endless nights of reveries and soliloquys?
(A/N: Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you).
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