#nightshade writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-am-bella-donna · 3 months

Text

To Remain in the Sky

AO3

Story Summary:

Emily loved being an angel. However, it took her a long time to realize that “being an angel” and “being good” were far from the same thing.

Pairings: Familial Emily x Sera

Word Count: 1,727

CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

A/N: I wrote this on a whim. I want to see how many HH fanfics I write before the next two episodes come out.

Because we know so little about Emily and Sera, I did my best with their characterizations. I hope you like it.

~~~

“How long?”

If Sera was surprised to see Emily appear in her bedroom, she did not show it. She had most likely been expecting her—Sera always seemed to know exactly what Emily was thinking, just like Emily always knew what Sera was thinking. They were two peas in a pod, and Emily admired her older sister like she had hung the stars.

She and Sera never kept secrets. Not from each other.

Or so she had thought.

Emily took a deep breath, the unfamiliar sensation of anger overwhelming in her chest. “How long has Heaven been doing this, Sera?”

Sera turned away from the wall mirror, watching in silence as Emily approached. Her expression was unreadable.

“How long ago did you give Adam permission to take our people down to Hell for—” Her voice caught and broke off. She heaved another breath.

Humans died. That was a fact.

But the dead were not supposed to die again.

Emily struggled to keep her own expression neutral, even as her fingers twitched. How much double-death had occurred down in Hell—a cruel fate not even caused by the Sinners themselves, but by her own people?

How did I not know?

“Emily…”

She snapped back to attention.

Sera was watching her with furrowed brows, concern plain in her expression. She opened her arms, and Emily wanted nothing more than to fall into them. To let herself be fussed over like she was a small child again. No matter what was wrong, her older sister had always made everything better.

But Emily was no longer a child, and Sera could no longer placate her with hugs and sweet words.

Shoving the hands away, Emily tried her hardest to ignore the hurt that flashed across her face. “How many human souls have been destroyed because of us?” she exclaimed. The words scraped against her throat as they left, leaving a barely-recognizable metallic taste in her mouth.

In all her years, Emily had rarely seen blood. She had no reason to—blood and injury were rare in Heaven. But what about Charlie? Had her estranged cousin grown up surrounded by the slaughter of her own people? Did she ever have to fall asleep to a lullaby of screams as angels led a massacre all around her? Did the streets flood with red? Did—

“You don’t understand,” Sera began softly. Emily pushed the vivid images out of her mind as quickly as possible. She wanted to focus on this conversation and get answers, but Sera looked so tired and sad—

I bet the Sinners we kill are sad, too.

Fury and betrayal filled her once more.

“What is there to understand?” Emily shot back, cutting her sister off to both of their surprise. She knew she should stop. She should take a few deep breaths so they could talk like reasonable adults—but the emotions swirling around her head and clouding her mind were suffocating in a way she had never felt before. She was left choking on her own thoughts and wanting to throw back her head and scream—not with excitement or laughter, but with confusion and pain.

If every day in Heaven was happy, did every day in Hell feel like this?

If Sinners were already suffering, why did they need to be killed?

Emily could not understand, but the questions were filling her with bitterness.

“Charlie showed us!” she pleaded. “The human souls in Hell—they can be good! That man in the feed from Hell—Angel—he was becoming better! And his friends were getting better, too! They just need some help.”

She and Sera—they were leaders of Heaven. They were supposed to be merciful. They should have been the ones going down to Hell, offering redemption to Sinners who wanted to work for a second chance. Charlie should never have had to claw her way up and beg for an audience—especially not with the way it turned out.

Sera was her older sister. She was an angel, and Emily wanted to believe that she was a good one.

But as chaos and discord unfolded in that courtroom, she had looked at her estranged cousin and seen the kindest soul she had ever met—only to watch that spark get crushed at the hands of Sera and Adam.

As if reading her mind, Sera continued. “The situation is so much more complicated than you could ever know.” Her voice was still gentle. Before, Emily might have found it calming. Right now, it only made her angrier.

“So what?” Emily took another step back and glared up at her sister. “I’m supposed to do nothing? Ignore how our people have been committing annual genocides?”

Emily tried to shove away the images that Adam had accidentally displayed—the screams and blood and fear.

Did it really matter if they were Sinners? The fear in their eyes was human, first and foremost.

How many times had Charlie and Vaggie had that fear in their eyes? What about their beloved friends from the Hotel?

Her heart almost stopped.

The Hotel.

Her stomach twisted as the blood drained from her face. Lightheaded, she stumbled back, barely noticing as Sera extended a worried hand.

“You’re going to stop the next Extermination, right?” she asked desperately. Her vision blurred slightly, but she did not care to understand why.

Sera winced. Pain, shame, guilt—they were all written clearly on her face.

Emily released a shuddering breath.

None of these emotions were supposed to be present on the face of her older sister. Sera was good, and wise, and—

And complicit in millions of deaths.

Sera looked away.

Emily felt her heart fall into her stomach. “Sera?” she asked weakly.

Sera blinked, and it was her turn to step away. She turned back to the wall mirror and stared at her reflection with dull eyes. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with exhaustion. “You’re still so young, Emily.”

“I’m older than any human on Earth—”

“But you aren’t even a millennium old yet!” Sera abruptly spun back to her, her expression pleading. Emily felt her own eyes grow wet in response.

Blood and death and screams and fear—

“There were thousands of years—thousands of catalysts—that built up to the first Extermination. Things were so much more complicated than you could imagine. Than I would even want you to imagine.” Sera started to reach for her, only to drop her hand. She looked as though she was in physical pain. “I never wanted to do this, Emily—but I had to do what was best for us. I had to keep our people safe.”

Sera took a shaky breath, turning away slightly before stepping forward once more. She kneeled and placed her hands gently on her shoulders. “Sometimes…” Her voice was softer than before. Resigned. “Sometimes, being a leader—even a leader of Heaven—means getting blood on your face so no one else has to.”

Emily swallowed. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry.

The Extermination was still going to happen. Adam had planned it—he was proud of it—and Charlie and Vaggie and all of their friends were going to be in danger again—

Her breaths were coming shorter and shorter. Her throat felt tight.

In some ways, Sera was right. Being a leader meant doing the tasks that no one else was willing to do—no matter the cost.

Her blood ran cold.

Sera was beginning to look worried at her lack of response. “Emily?”

Her heart pounded.

“Then…maybe I don’t want to be an angel of Heaven anymore.”

The words loomed in the air. They were out, and they could never be taken back.

Sera froze.

“Emily—”

“Those people—Charlie and her friends—everyone will need all the help they can get.” Emily heard her voice shaking as she spoke—it sounded strange to her own ears. She pressed on, smiling without any humor. “I love being an angel. I used to love watching you—I wanted to be exactly like you.”

Of course, Sera already knew that. Sera knew everything about her.

Her head spun with the memories. Had they really been so recent? This day might as well have lasted several years.

“I loved doing good. I tried to follow your example in any way possible—if I could be even a fraction as compassionate or kind as you were, I would be happy.” Her smile grew brittle. “But I want to keep people safe, too. I’ll do whatever it takes to help those who need it—even if that means walking straight into Hell.”

Sera yanked her hands away as though she had been burned. The terror on her face rivaled the fear in the eyes of Sinners as they were murdered—it was almost enough to make Emily falter.

Almost.

It hurt. It hurt more than Emily had even known was possible—she did not understand how she was not writhing in agony.

But the screams remained locked behind her lips and the smile stayed glued upon her face, and she kept silent as shaking hands reached above her head and snapped her halo in two.

~~~

Sera remembered the night that Lucifer Fell.

She had been there for all of it—from the buildup to the aftermath—and she wanted nothing more than to forget.

The scariest part of the Fall had been its namesake—the horrifying moment when the sacred ground of Heaven gave out and sent her once-best friend plummeting toward Hell. The horrifying moment when she locked eyes with Lucifer just in time to see his fear before he was disappearing through the floor.

She did not get to say goodbye, or to thank him, or to apologize. There was no time for any of it.

Sera had only seen one Fall, but that was more than enough. She was living proof that even Heaven could not keep the nightmares away.

And as her stupid, brave, caring little sister snapped her own halo, Sera watched as her worst nightmare became a reality. The halo had barely hit the ground before Emily was falling.

One second, she was present.

The next, she was gone.

And that was it.

The silence was deafening.

Two broken pieces of a halo—the only indication that Emily had been there at all—lay innocently on the floor. Thoroughly numb, Sera took the pieces into her palms. She could only stare as the jagged edges cut into her skin, smearing her hands with bright angelic blood.

Her head spun.

What have I done?

~~~

A/N: This was fun to write!

I thought that Emily must have been rather horrified to learn about the Exterminations. She spent her whole life in Heaven, where everything is perfect—only to find out that her people have been committing annual mass genocide for centuries.

In this story, I decided to use a slightly more sympathetic portrayal of Sera—she is still awful, but she genuinely believes that the Exterminations are for the best. Do I believe this interpretation will be canon? No. Is it fun to explore? Absolutely.

Also, I considered adding another couple of chapters (about Emily going down to Hell and meeting Charlie at the Hotel). Would anyone be interested in that?

#nightshade writes #to remain in the sky #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel sera #familial emily x sera #post welcome to heaven #angst #hurt no comfort #family #growing up #running away

18 notes · View notes

flayyr · 9 months

Text

mmm divorcespark. i post whatever the fuck i want

2K notes · View notes

spacedace · 9 months

Text

Oh hey here’s the lil prolog thing I wrote for my DP x DC Leverage AU. I’m gonna actually write more of one day I swear but for now have this opening bit and feel free to use it as a prompt if you want :D

The station went utterly quiet as they brought her in.

Room after room going as silent as the grave when the young woman in handcuffs stepped through the door. Chatter stopped. Bodies stilled. Heads turned. Eyes widened. It almost felt like everyone was too afraid to even breath as she walked by. Cops and crooks alike watching with fear and awe in equal measures as Jim Gordon led her past them to the interrogation room.

She didn’t give the gaping crowd any mind. Head tilted up at an angle, shoulders back, steps sure. The solid heals of her boots clicked upon the scuffed linoleum, echoing loud in the stifling quiet. Like a royal herald announcing her presence. She held herself like a queen, which was fitting Jim supposed. Until tonight, the only name anyone had to call her by was Queen.

The blood, unnervingly, only made her seem more regal.

Batman was already in the interrogation room when they arrived. Jim didn’t even have it in him to sigh at the broody bat looming in the corner. He knew he’d be there. There was no way he would miss the interrogation of someone they’d been chasing for so long. Especially not now considering…well.

Considering.

Jim largely ignored the vigilante in the corner as he moved through the familiar process of getting the young woman handcuffed in place to the table, starting the recording and rattling off the relevant details: date, time, the - many - charges the young woman had been arrested for. If he faltered over the victim’s name of the young woman’s most recent crime no one commented on it. In the corner, Batman watched and lurked. Nearly lost in the shadowy corner of the room while still being impossible to ignore.

They’d done this before. Good cop, bad vigilante. It was usually effective in getting the truth out of stubborn criminals.

Jim rather doubted it would work in this case.

“Please state your name for the record.” He said, only to be met with the same cool silence Queen had given everyone since her arrest. She shifted in her seat, not a nervous fidget but an easy, languid movement. Even the uncomfortable metal chair seemed like a throne when she was involved. Jim bit back a sigh. “We have your information. I’m asking as a courtesy.”

Queen tilted her head faintly, looking at him with something almost like amusement, one brow twitching slightly upward. “You’ll have to forgive my disbelief, Commissioner Gordon.” She said, polite as ever. “But I’m rather sure that you won’t find me in any system you run my fingerprints or face through.”

She was right about that. They’d tried a hundred times over the past few years she and her team had been operating in Gotham. Her face never appeared in any pictures or recordings - not even in her mugshot during processing, all that was visible was her red hair and a mess of corrupted visual data where her face should be. The most her fingerprints had ever led to where the other crimes they already knew she’d taken part in. Batman had done everything to try and circumvent whatever meta ability kept her from being recorded on film, had done even more to try and find her and her people in every system he and the Justice League had access to. Nothing. Jim had grumbled a few times about how Queen and her crew might as well be ghosts for all the proof that they existed officially.

Turned out, ghosts was exactly right.

“The Ghost Investigation Ward reached out to us two hours ago.” He said, leaning back in his own seat, watching her carefully. “I’ll repeat, Ms. Fenton, my asking is a courtesy.”

For the first time in the years he’d known her, Queen - real name Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton - looked scared. Beyond scared, even. Completely, and utterly terrified.

Her body went rigid, eyes growing wide, breath picking up as she sat up sharply. Any semblance of that calm, collected presence she always held even when she was at her most cornered and vulnerable vanished in an instant. He’d seen her breath in a cloud of Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin and laugh. Watched as Bane wrapped large hands around her throat and tilt her chin up to stare down at her attacker imperiously. A mobster pressed the barrel of a gun to her head and she’d smiled, coy and confidant and untouchable. Queen always, always was calm. Aggravatingly so, even. Utterly unshakable as she waltzed into every wild and insane situation carrying the undeniable air of one who was complete control of everything happening.

She hadn’t even looked scared when the Joker had held her hostage.

And now? Now all it had taken was those three words. Ghost Investigation Ward. A nonsense name for a government agency with a ridiculous purpose. And yet there the unshakable Queen sat, looking terrified out of her mind at the mere mention of them.

Not for the first time since he received that call, Jim Gordon felt uneasy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc writing prompt #jazz fenton #jim gordon #bruce wayne #leverage au #Jazz is the mastermind in this one #and has been having a great time up til this moment #everyone on the team has code names #Danny is Spaceman because of course it is lol #Sam is Nightshade #Tucker is Pharaoh #Ellie is Nomad #they're not actually shown here but I just wanted to share the codenames I came up for them lol

722 notes · View notes

streaminn · 8 months

Text

Wednesday doesn't hate touch

But as bianca's hand brushes against her shoulder in what Wednesday knows is supposed to be consoling, that thought is slowly becoming a lie.

Wednesday can tolerate touch. Tolerate the way it always leaves goosebumps that has her muscles tensing and she can tolerate the fact that this is simply the way the nightshades show affection.

They try, they really do try but they get caught up in the moment and sometimes yoko slings an arm over her shoulder that has Wednesday sharply inhaling through her nose before she exhales and tries to relax her shoulders.

The weight should've been comforting.

It isn't.

Ajax can come up with news all he wants, a pep in his step and a wide eyed look in his face but it takes all of her will power to not step away from such enthusiasm when he bounds in with information.

These are her companions, they've stuck through her time and time again, it's only right for her to do the same.

But sometimes, when her eyes feel heavy during training and it's too dark to distinguish the one carrying her back to the dorm, Wednesday let's herself believe for once.

She doesn't smell vanilla, not anymore but she still remembers the way those hands grasp at her back and the way Enid presses her face onto her shoulder. It's a hearty weight that presses onto her skin and it leaves her with a lovely feeling that ends way too soon.

To this day, she still wishes it left a mark.

So yes, Wednesday doesn't hate touch.

Wednesday could never hate Enid after all.

#Wenclair #Military school au #Writing #Or the difference between tolerance and wanting #This is a lil weds POV from when Enid saw her interact with the nightshades

253 notes · View notes

evilwrongdoer · 24 days

Text

can we please talk about percy jackson deciding to be the prophecy kid so as to protect nico. can we talk about may castellan who waited years for her son to return only for him to never do so. about percy only surviving the river Styx because of annabeth. can we talk about zoe and bianca and the sacrifices they made. can we talk about clarisse taking care of chris when he had been driven insane by the labyrinth. can we talk about charles beckendorf looking at a photo of silena before entering battle on the princess andromeda and also the grief silena went through after finding out he died. can we talk about when beckendorf told nico he would stay in elysium to wait for someone (silena obv). can we talk about calypso. can we talk about hestia, goddess of the hearth who had to give her spot to dionysus who had just freshly become a god.

i havent even finished reading the last olympian yet but i am in tears.

64 notes · View notes

hikiclawd · 4 months

Text

based on something i wrote a premise for but never actually got around to writing, basically it's what i think went down at cyrus' funeral . they dropped him in the swamp by accident </3 related doodles and rambling ;

tbh the whole story itself is actually kinda serious since its mainly about ways of processing grief but this is just the funniest and easiest part to turn into a mini comic

again i wrote a whole premise but idk if anyone wants to see that so its just tucked away on my sketch account, i never know how to go about showing my story ideas since im not really a writer

93 notes · View notes

jammatown919 · 6 months

Text

So according to the Have I Been Trained website, two of my older fanfictions have been used for AI training. To say I'm pissed is an understatement.

They may be fanfictions, but they're still MY work. My time, my energy, my emotions. They were not for someone else to take and use to contribute to this immense danger the livelihoods of creatives. And now I have to worry about literally everything that's on my Wattpad account potentially being scraped, because that's where those two were taken from. Fortunately it doesn't seem to have touched my Tumblr or AO3 at the moment. I think AO3 added something try to limit scraping a while back, but if this shit ever finds my Tumblr I'm throwing hands.

Before I go, quick PSA If you feed other people's work into AI, you're a thief and you are actively contributing to professional writers/artists losing their livelihoods. If you use or pay for generative AI that use work taken without consent, you're a thief and you are an active threat to the survival of creative workers.

If you're an artist, Glaze your work if you can. I heard someone made something similar for writing that I'm going to look into. If you use Glaze, consider Nightshade too, as it will damage the datasets your stolen work is put into to further discourage theft. I hope a Nightshade for writing comes out soon.

#anti ai #anti ai art #anti ai writing #FUCK WHOEVER STOLE MY SHIT #GENUINELY #FUCK YOU #THE FIRST BASIC RULE OF RESPECT CREATIVES HAVE IS DON'T BE AN ART THIEF #AI ART IS ART THEFT #I hope nightshade makes ai art generators unusable and I hope chatGPT goes bankrupt #which it may #it's lost so much money there's a prediction of it being gone by the end of 2024 #burn all theft-based ai to the fucking ground #it could be cool if the training data was willingly given and there were more protections for people's jobs but noooo people suck too much

94 notes · View notes

deadlysoupy · 5 months

Text

Who You Used to Be (We Want to Know You)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Bumblebee (Transformers), Twitch Malto, Thrash Malto, Nightshade Malto, Hashtag Malto, Jawbreaker Malto Tags: Angst, Self-Worth Issues, Temporary Character Death, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Cybertronian Civil War, Time Travel, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Bumblebee never discloses his past to the Terrans. Why should he? He is the adult here, and the kids have enough on their tiny shoulders to carry, destinies and spark bonds to keep them busy.

But when Nightshade invents a device set to transport the wearer into their happiest moment, the Maltos travel to Cybertron via Bumblebee’s memories, not expecting to experience scout’s life from the outside. As their helmets start to malfunction, the kids are forced to relive Bumblebee’s worst (and best) memories alongside him.

Through hardships and pain, the Terrans convince Bumblebee they want him to come out of hiding and share his stories. After all - he's part of their family too.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #bumblebee #tfe bumblebee #twitch malto #thrash malto #hashtag malto #nightshade malto #jawbreaker malto #tfe #tfes #my writing

67 notes · View notes

ruegarding · 3 months

Note

i would love to hear your thoughts about zoe

i'm here to remind everyone that zoe decided to befriend a hundred-headed dragon w terrible breath, just bc she could. like zoe says she could feed ladon by hand! meanwhile, her sisters are still scared of ladon in the present story, some two thousand years later. but zoe and ladon were close enough that he doesn't attack her immediately when she returns to the garden and purposefully makes herself "a bigger threat." i don't think we talk abt this enough.

this is under a read more bc the first bit is the most important part honestly. i haven't seen a single person draw zoe w her hundred-headed, stinky dragon. that feels like a crime.

but i also want to talk abt how she badly hercules burned her. she has no real reason to help him, at no point in their conversation is there any sort of implied transaction, but she helps him anyway. bc she's kind! and it cost her everything she had. her immortal power, her gift from her mother, her family, the dragon she befriended. and she gets nothing from it! not even the slightest bit of recognition. she had to rebuild everything.

anyway. closing thoughts. zoe deserved to shoot a man.

#honorable mention when zoe woke ladon and her sisters ran away like “have you lost your fucking mind??? that's a dragon!!!”#and zoe just replied “skill issue”#anyway thank u anon for indulging me #zoe nightshade #zoë nightshade #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo books #zoe #min talks pjo #answered #i was trying to write something else but all i could think abt was ladon so u know what. this is the post

40 notes · View notes

nightshadewritesstuff · 20 days

Text

'My slice of heaven'

Lucifer x Victoria Baudelaire (my OC)

Do not copy or steal, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

Length: 970 words.

Tooth rotting fluff

Trigger warnings : none ( I think)

The bell above the door of Rosie's emporium rings as someone walks in, I hear Rosie greet them as she normally does with every client that comes in, whether they are for me or her .

The doorbell to my office and design room rings multiple times, pressing the button as much as they can.

“IM COMING,FUCK.” I yell towards the doors. Rising from my seat at the sewing table and walk to the double doors, opening them to see none other than Lucifer, my beloved boyfriend, waiting with his coat in his hands and a sheepish smile on his lips. I quickly welcome him in and flip the sign to ‘with a client’ from the original ‘open’ side. Lucifer sits in the chair near my seat at the sewing machine.

“ What happened this time?” I ask with a quirked eyebrow and my arms crossed across my chest.

“ No hello, or a kiss?” Lucifer laughs out , tattered coat resting in his lap.

“ Your coat is basically in shreds, I'm very happy to see you but I need to fix that coat. No king should wear a ragged and torn jacket.” I sigh as I sit in front of the sewing machine, mentally preparing for the newest tale this coat has gone through.

“Well, um, I may have gotten into a fight with Alastor.” Lucifer blushes in embarrassment and rubs the back of his neck.

“You have got to be joking with me, darling.” I look about as annoyed as I feel, my tendency to not control my face showing clear as could be. The amount of times Lucifer has needed a new coat because of alastor feels like a billion times. I reach my hand out for Lucifer to put the tattered coat, hoping I can just fix it instead of having to completely remake it, not that I mind because I get more time with Lucifer but because the coat takes a while to make. Lucifer eventually hands me the coat with a sigh.

“ Oh my heavens, Lucifer.” The coat is barely held together, literally hanging in by a thread. Lucifer doesn't say any but gets up to the measuring platform. He knows this process very well, considering I make a good amount of his custom clothes. I look at the shreds of fabric in my hands before grabbing my measuring tape and notepad.

It takes around an hour to get all of the measurements done, after Lucifer requested I add a new shirt to the order. Once I have the order and measurements written down, I walk into my room of fabrics and grab the white and red I normally use. Walking back in with the fabrics , I sit in front of the sewing machine and start cutting the fabric to the measurements, sitting in comfortable silence with Lucifer watching every move.

Hours pass as I carefully craft a new shirt and coat for Lucifer, occasionally talking about his recent work and the things that have him so busy. By the time I finish, it's dark outside and past 7 pm, passed my work hours and when Lucifer would typically go home. It's not odd for us to get lost in conversation and the comforting presence of each other, but never for this long.

“Well, it's Done, But it's also 7 pm and my hands hurt.” I laugh as I finish the sentence , looking to Lucifer as he stretches from sitting for so long. I start folding the clothes and putting them in a bag with the order form as usual, while Lucifer continues to stare silently, with a soft ,sweet smile on his face.

“Whatchu staring at,love?” I hand the bag to Lucifer when he laughs and blushes because he was caught staring.

“ Just one of the prettiest seamstresses I've ever seen.” Lucifer takes the bag while he says that, holding my stare with a gentle look in his eyes .I giggle as I lean down to kiss him, bent at the waist almost 90 degrees because of the height difference between us. When the kiss breaks, I grab my purse and walk to the door.

“You going to walk me home?” I tease while Lucifer and I exit Rosie's emporium and my office. “ Sure, darling, why not.”

Lucifer walks me all the way back to the hotel, despite the occasional stares. When we finally make it to the hotel, I kiss him goodbye watch as he disappears in front of my eyes. I say my hellos and goodnights to the hotel members, as well as explain why I was late, until I finally make it to my room, where I lay down, simply thinking about everything. Lucifer and Charlie are the family I never got to have, but I'm here now and I'm going to take full advantage of the memories.

I get ready for bed, gently kissing the photo of my mom and dad, who I miss more than anything else in the universe. When I lay down, a portal opens up above my bed, dropping a large duck plushie directly into my face. When I finally find my way out of the massive duck plushie, I see a note with Lucifer’s handwriting on it, simply reading ‘ for you, my love. I'm sorry I've been busy with work and barely have time for us. I hope this will make up for some of the longing. Tell Charlie I said hi , and goodnight my dear. Sincerely, your beloved Lucifer.’ I smile with the note and proceed to place it gently in my nightstand, with all of the other notes Lucifer gives me. When I finally close my eyes, I'm cuddled up to the duck plushie, with my family on my mind, happy and content.

It might be hell, but I've found my own slice of heaven.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin original character #hazbin lucifer x oc #hazbin lucifer x reader #nightshade writes #please like this im brain rotting #please like i need validation

12 notes · View notes

i-am-bella-donna · 5 months

Text

Such a Promising Young Witch

AO3

Story Summary:

When Lilith Clawthorne was thirteen, she had promise. She had potential. Now, Lilith Clawthorne was thirty, and she was worthless.

Pairings: Platonic Darius x Lilith

Word Count: 4,000

CONTENT WARNINGS: ANXIETY ATTACKS, DISSOCIATION, SELF-HATRED, SUICIDE (SUICIDAL THOUGHTS)

A/N: Story Theme Song: Achilles Come Down (Female Version) by Annapantsu

Be careful, folks. This one is a little heavy.

No one dies or attempts suicide, but Lilith is not having a good time.

~~~

“She’s such a promising young witch.”

Lilith fought back a groan and hunched further over her office desk, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose as memories interrupted the more productive flow of thought.

“Who?”

“Lilith Clawthorne—that teenager with the dark red hair.”

“The one in the Potions Track?”

“Yeah!”

Her other hand trembled around her pen, sending a wide streak of ink across the page. Through her blurry vision, she could not tell how bad the smear was, but dread settled in her stomach nonetheless. She scrubbed at her eyes.

The Emperor expected—no, deserved perfection.

Her hands were still shaking as she straightened and decided to continue. She wanted to go back and redo the ruined paperwork, but was already running low on time. While she may have been willing to spend as long as necessary on her work, she could not afford to make the Emperor wait for her.

Lilith swallowed. The room was cold. Her head was spinning and her teeth were rattling.

“I bet she’s a shoo-in for the Emperor’s Coven!”

“Well, either her or her sister.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen how much time Lilith spends studying?”

She had stopped watching the clock a while ago. The numbers were becoming too fuzzy.

“That girl works harder than any other student at Hexside—Edalyn has no idea who she’s up against!”

“Yeah, but we all know Edalyn is stronger. Lilith can study all she wants, but no amount of studying can replace raw power.”

She needed to pull herself together. The Emperor was counting on her. He had seen her for all of her horrible actions—and instead of scorning her, he had offered his hand in support.

“Bring me the Owl Lady, and I will heal the curse with no mention of your involvement. For such a promising young witch as yourself, I doubt it will be an issue.”

Lilith was supposed to capture Eda. She had tried to capture Eda, using the best of her efforts.

And still she failed.

Time and time again, she failed.

She had failed the Emperor.

She had failed herself.

She had failed Eda.

The bells of the clock tower tolled in the distance, ringing softly through her office. She usually found the noise soothing, like a call for sleep. But now it was just another reminder of how much time she was wasting—and how little she was getting done. The noise pounded against her skull and drew a groan from her.

She was twenty-nine years old, and she was even failing at maintaining a proper sleep schedule.

So much for being promising, she thought with a note of bitterness. I think I cursed the wrong witch.

The ink on the page was spreading. Spots of ink were blotting her vision, too.

There was a knock on her office door.

Almost on instinct, Lilith shot to her feet, paying no mind to her chair crashing to the ground behind her. She blinked the dark static out of her vision and gripped the edge of her desk as the room swayed beneath her feet.

Was it the Emperor?

Kikimora?

The Golden Gu—wait, he was dead.

Who in their right mind would still be working—and visiting her office—at such a late hour?

Another knock.

Lilith bit the inside of her cheek, her heartbeat picking up and her grip tightening. Why were they not—

Oh. Right.

“Come in!” she finally called out, her voice like broken glass. Internally, she winced. When was the last time she had spoken? Or drunk water?

I said I would get up for a drink when I finished two more pages of work. That was ten pages ago.

To be fair, water will be a nice reward if—when I am finished.

The door swung open and Lilith stiffened, posture tightening until a bolt of pain shot through her shoulders. She opened her mouth to apologize for her messy office and disheveled appearance, only for her visitor to cut her off.

“Sweet Titan, you should be asleep by now,” Darius scoffed, folding his arms and staring down at her with judgment. “How—actually, why are you still awake?”

Lilith blinked, unsure of how to reply as shame settled over her. Darius rolled his eyes at her lack of response and shut the door behind him, taking a few steps closer and giving her a once-over. He opened his mouth, and Lilith internally braced herself for a scolding.

“Do you even bother to take care of yourself anymore?”

There it was.

She blinked again to clear the blurry sight of his face, digging her nails into her skin as a chill shot down her spine. Darius clicked his tongue, and distantly, Lilith realized she was trembling.

How do I answer that question?

As though sensing her loss for words, Darius lifted his Scroll. There was a bright flash of light before Lilith could react, and then Darius was holding his Scroll out for her to see. It took a few seconds for her to recognize the image as a photograph of herself, and a few more for her breath to catch in her throat.

Titan—she looked awful.

Her skin was bloodless and drained of life, and her eyes were glassy with dark shadows underneath. Her hair was a tangled mess. The edges of her image were blurred slightly, as though even the camera had picked up on her shaking.

Any possible response remained stuck in the back of her throat. Darius nodded as though expecting this reaction, shoving his Scroll back into his pocket. “Being a Coven Head is time consuming, but that’s no excuse for neglecting self-care.” He paused, eyeing her nest of hair. “Or basic hygiene.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled. “You seem to have plenty of spare time on your hands, Coven Head or not.” Her voice carried more of a bitter note than she would have liked, but she did not really care. It was an open secret that Darius and the Golden Guard had a close relationship—even Lilith had noticed. For a while, it had been almost wonderful to watch. Darius gained a lightness that Lilith had not seen since his falling-out with Alador and Odalia.

Then the Golden Guard died.

And everything changed.

“It’s a wonder you’re still standing,” Darius continued as though he had not heard her. “I leave you alone for a few weeks, and this is what you let yourself become?”

A few weeks?

It had been a few years since he had even bothered to have a real conversation with her.

After Hexside, she had found herself losing everyone. Her parents certainly did not care about her—they did not attend her initiation ceremony, or her Coven Head inauguration.

Raine was too close to Eda for Lilith to speak to them without being consumed with guilt. Still, she found that they crossed her mind every time she saw a particularly proficient bard—anyone with enough passion to remind her of the witch who had practically become a second younger sibling. Did they miss her as much as she missed them?

Perry had been one of her favorite study-buddies, but between their respective careers, they were too busy to meet up. Still, she watched his news channel whenever she had the chance.

Odalia and Alador had cut everyone off for reasons she neither knew nor understood. Darius was far more bitter about the situation, but he refused to speak on it. None of them had been invited to the wedding.

Eda and Lilith had not been in the same room for several years. Lilith could not tell whether that choice had been for the best.

But despite everything, she still had Darius by her side. They rose through the ranks together, just like how Lilith had once imagined doing with Eda.

And then Darius stopped talking to her.

She was truly alone.

Lilith had given up her friends, her family, her life—and for what? Her wasted potential?

She had taken a gamble and lost, and now she was forever in the debt of karma.

Failure.

“Sorry…” she forced out. She was not entirely sure why she was apologizing.

“What for?”

Her heart thumped in her chest. The room was spinning slowly. You need to answer. What did you do wrong this time?

“Wasting your time?”

Darius sighed, sending a spike of fear and shame through her body. It was entirely pathetic—how had she even managed to claw her way into becoming a Coven Head?

It should have been Eda.

She was such a promising young witch, but Eda was more than just promising. Eda was powerful.

And I was jealous of her, so I ruined her life.

How long before she managed to disappoint the Emperor, too? How long before he stopped giving her chances, and threw her out of the coven, and—

“Honestly, Lilith,” Darius chided, snapping her back from her thoughts. He crossed his arms. “You need to prioritize yourself more often. Do you think the Emperor wants you wasting away like this?”

He should be disappointed in me.

The words sent another wave of shame through her. She wrapped her arms around her shaking torso. Perhaps if she had been in a normal state of mind, she would have been able to better conceal her reaction.

But as it was, she was exhausted and running on fumes, so she averted her eyes and fought the urge to break down.

The clock ticked.

Darius sighed. He set the forgotten chair upright and guided her to sit down, the gentleness of his hands at odds with the annoyed look on his face. “Wait here,” he instructed before vanishing through the door.

Not entirely sure what was happening, Lilith seized the opportunity of solitude and turned back to the pile of paperwork on her desk. However, she quickly found she could not actually bring herself to work. Her hands were unnaturally heavy, as though there were weights strapped to her limbs. The papers fuzzed so greatly in her vision, she might as well have been reading them underwater—and what little she could make out, she simply could not process. Her teeth were chattering badly, not at all helping matters.

I have to work.

Her eyes burned.

I can’t—

“Am I going to return to an imminent crisis every time I leave you alone?”

Startled, Lilith jerked her head upward. Somehow, Darius had already returned and was towering over her, holding out….

Was that a coven scout mask?

She stared, uncomprehending, until Darius rolled his eyes. “Put the mask on,” he instructed, speaking slowly as though she was stupid. “On the off chance that we run into someone, they’ll think I’m escorting an overworked coven scout back to their quarters. No one will know it’s you.”

Oh. Lilith blinked, trying to wrap her mind around his claim.

“Put the mask on,” she echoed blankly, accepting the cold metal with shaking hands and pressing it to her face. Tired as she was, she was still capable of following a direct order.

Her face tingled slightly as the enchantment adhered the mask to her skin, holding the it in place as Darius lifted her easily into his arms. Lilith yelped in an undignified manner, disoriented by the sudden motion. Her vision briefly spotted out.

She could practically feel Darius rolling his eyes as he carried her out of the room, using a small spell circle to shut off the lights and close the door behind him. “Later, you and I need to have a long discussion,” he said as they made their way through the halls. Lilith suddenly understood why he had insisted she wear a mask, and weak gratitude filled her chest. How oddly…kind of him. “Especially about your complete lack of care toward yourself and your health.”

Yourself and your health.

Lilith frowned slightly behind her mask. Why did that matter?

She had outlived her use. She had once been such a promising young witch.

And now she had failed.

She should have let herself lose, all those years ago.

She wanted Eda here with her.

But it was her own fault that her sister was alone, living in the woods with neither support nor family.

Her self-control slipped and her breath caught slightly, a sharp pain lancing through her chest.

Darius clicked his tongue again. “Titan—you’re so tired, you’re shaking,” he said, his tone filled with disapproval and only loud enough for her to hear. “Lilith, this isn’t healthy.”

I can sleep when I’m worthy of it, she thought but did not say. Her lips were practically glued shut, and Darius already seemed unhappy enough.

Her thoughts were yanked back into her body as Darius stopped short, and Lilith realized that they had somehow already reached her room. She could not understand how he managed to unlock and open her door without placing her down, but the next thing she knew, he was setting her on her bed and locking the door behind him. She bit her lip and let her chin fall into her hands, watching him move through blurred vision.

He still had the key she had once given him.

It should not have surprised her. The key to his room was hidden at the back of her closet, in a box that also contained her Hexside yearbook and old photo album. Despite everything, she just…could not bring herself to get rid of it.

“All right,” Darius muttered to himself as he stepped over to her dresser. “I hope you have clean pajamas to wear.”

Lilith blinked, barely understanding what was happening and wanting nothing more than to fall back onto her bed and sleep—but no, she had more work to do. And she was still shaking—

“Lilith.”

“What?” Her voice was strange, even to her own ears. She might as well have been underwater.

“Your pajamas, Lilith. Do you have a preference?” There was the sound of a drawer opening and closing—wait, when had she closed her eyes? “And take off the mask. You don’t need it anymore.”

Robotically, she lifted a hand to her face and removed the coven scout mask, flinching as it landed on the floor with an audible thud. Her hands fell into her lap and swam before her eyes, mind dull and barely processing her surroundings.

I can’t do this.

Her face was hot. Her throat burned. She could not stop trembling—

“I swear—Lilith, you cannot keep going like this.” Rustling. “You’re going to kill yourself at this rate, and I can’t—”

Darius cut himself off.

Her blood ran cold.

What did I do wrong what did I do wrong what did—

Footsteps hurried as they approached the bed. Lilith became aware of her position—hunched over with her hands now covering her eyes, elbows propped up on her knees. Her hands felt slimy where they touched her face.

“Shit.” Darius spoke unusually softly, his voice filled with concern that Lilith had not heard from anyone in…so long. “What’s wrong?”

The bed dipped slightly as Darius took a seat beside her. His hands were gentle as they pulled her close, warmth all but bleeding through her clothes and somehow making her tremble harder. He let her keep her hands up by her face as she leaned into his chest.

Lilith shrugged loosely, her tongue like lead in her throat.

He shifted her in his grasp, one hand running up and down her back and the other remaining tight around her shoulders. “You’re…” He paused, and Lilith was suddenly struck by dread. “You’re crying.”

What?

Her hands were wet.

She was crying. She was crying in front of someone else, which she had not done since she was a child.

Worse, it was Darius.

Darius, who had once been her best friend.

Who had been the only person by her side as she moved up the ranks of her coven.

Who had laughed with her after her initiation ceremony, and brought her food and water after hard missions.

Who had fallen quickly in love with the Golden Guard, and even more quickly into grief when he was gone.

Who had brushed Lilith off just before everything went wrong, and had stopped answering her calls and messages.

Who now never spoke to her without the clipped tone he used for all the coven heads.

Who, just like her parents, had all but thrown her away.

She wanted to tear herself away and shove him out of the room. She wanted to pull him close and never let him go.

She wanted to fall back asleep and never wake up, because Titan, she could not keep doing this.

Her lungs burned. “I—I c-can’t—I can’t be—”

“Lilith, it’s okay.” His voice was so soft, she wanted to scream.

Lilith could not understand what was happening—why Darius cared, why she was not moving, why her mind was so hazy, why she could not feel her hands or feet or stop fucking shaking—

“I n-n-need to—”

She had to get back to work and be productive and good, or else Belos would—

A gasping sob tore past her lips, and Lilith could no longer hide from the reality of it. She was falling apart like—like a fucking child, and—

I just want to sleep.

I just want to die.

She ducked her head lower, fists moving up to clench in her hair. Darius could not see her face, but he somehow hugged her tighter, hooking his chin over her head. “No. You need to rest, Lilith,” he told her quietly. Solemnly. “You need to eat. You need to—need to stop hurting yourself like this.” His voice was starting to sound just as…wrong as her own. Did she do that?

Maybe that should be her new life philosophy. She needed to stop messing up.

Her head was pounding. Tears stung dry skin as they fell. Lilith just wanted it to stop.

She was supposed to be better than this. The Emperor himself had chosen her.

The Emperor made a mistake.

I just want to be good again.

Breathing was hard. She found herself shaking once more—or had she never stopped?

I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this—

“Lilith, please—” Darius was not supposed to sound so desperate. Lilith could not see his face, or anything else—when had her eyes slipped shut?

Titan, she was so tired.

She could not keep doing this. Not anymore.

I don’t want to live like this.

I have to keep going.

I don’t want to keep going.

She was supposed to be better than this.

I just want to die.

Lilith never knew it was possible to be so exhausted with life—so tired that the thought of waking up in the morning was agony. She never knew what her future had in store for her.

Darius was still talking to her, but Lilith could barely understand what he was saying. Fog clouded her mind and muffled her thoughts. Her breathing still hurt. She did not want to be awake anymore—she just wanted to be away.

How would her younger self view her now? Curled into Darius, crying like an overtired child—they had not been so close in so long.

Briefly, an image flashed in her head—two teenagers hiding in the back corner of the library. They shared so many secrets between those shelves. Darius shared his feelings for Alador, Lilith shared her lack of romantic interest in anyone, and both of them shared their fears and hopes for their futures in their covens. Although they would never admit it to anyone else, they made whispered promises to remain in contact, no matter what happened to the rest of their friends. No matter what their futures held.

And here they were now.

No one else was with them.

They never shared secrets anymore.

A hand on her face snapped her from her stupor and sent a shot of panic down her spine. She had no time to react before Darius pulled away slightly. Lilith blinked through blurry vision, mortified as Darius searched her face, even as tears were still slipping past her lashes.

“Lilith, breathe.”

She tried to listen to him. She tried to catch her breath. He set his hand on her shoulder, one arm still wrapped around her. His expression was dark enough to twist her stomach.

“Listen to me,” he said, quiet and deadly serious. Her teeth chattered and she hugged herself tightly but nodded, biting her lip to stifle her sobs.

It was only when she met his eyes that he continued. “You spent years working for this position. You studied. You trained. And you earned your spot, because the Emperor decided you were worthy.”

No—I got this position because I cursed my own sister.

Even Darius sounded bitter when he spoke, like he was agreeing with her without even knowing.

“But,” he continued, snapping her back to the present. “You…are still just one person.” He paused and cleared his throat, averting his eyes. She fought the urge to rub her own. “You need food, and hygiene, and rest. Taking time for those things isn’t a failure on your part.”

But that wasn’t—

She wasn’t—

He didn’t—

“You don’t get it!” she finally spit out with surprising force. “I—I was s-s-supposed to be better than this—I-I-I’m failing at—at my work, and no matter h-how much time I spend, I’m still just—just—”

I was such a promising young witch.

I had potential.

Now, I am nothing.

I just want to die.

She felt, more than saw, Darius stiffen.

“I…didn’t realize how bad things were,” he said quietly. She was not even sure whether she heard him correctly, but guilt bubbled up inside her nonetheless.

Just another way I fucked up.

The clock ticked on.

Finally, Darius sighed and pulled her back against him. “It’s late, and you’re too tired to understand what I’m saying. You might not even remember this conversation in the morning.”

Screwup.

“Just…get some rest. Please?”

Her head throbbed as cold abomination matter surrounded her, and she was surprised to find the scratchy fabric of her uniform replaced with soft pajamas that she had not worn in…a long time. Warm hands moved her into a reclining position and pulled heavy blankets over her, alleviating the worst of her trembling. Her breathing was heavy but steady, tears slowing as exhaustion took over.

Every sense filled with static, and Lilith realized with distant alarm that she was falling asleep.

But she did not even have the energy to feel ashamed—just a faint pulse of relief.

I can’t do this anymore.

A hand swept the hair away from her forehead, but she was already out.

~~~

Darius let out a heavy sigh as he stepped away, watching Lilith settle into an uneasy sleep. For a moment, he could do nothing more than listen to her heavy breathing soften. Not for the first time, guilt simmered inside him like an open flame.

He and Lilith had been friends. Best friends. They stood by one another as they rose through the ranks.

And then Jasper died.

Darius had never intended to abandon Lilith. But her blind loyalty to Belos put him off, first as he questioned the Emperor and later as the deep chasm of resentment tore open inside him. Lilith continued to obey Belos like a dog trailing after its master, and the idea of someone worshiping that awful man filled him with rage.

It was easier to brush her off. He never actually meant to hurt her.

His intentions did not matter here.

“I just want to die.”

Had she even realized she was talking aloud?

Watching the tears drying on her cheeks, Darius swore to do better. Even if Lilith kneeled before Belos and all but kissed his feet, he would do better. He would be kinder.

Tearing himself away from her bedside, he made his way to the door and threw her one last regretful glance.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Get some rest, Lilith. Please.”

~~~

A/N: After four months, this is finally complete.

Also—if you are reading this between midnight and six in the morning, take the advice from Darius and go to sleep.

#nightshade writes #such a promising young witch #the owl house #lilith clawthorne #darius deamonne #platonic darius x lilith #pre canon #angst #hurt/comfort #exhaustion #friendship #late night conversations #sleep deprivation #anxiety attacks #dissociation #self hatred #suicide #suicidal thoughts #author is sleep deprived

6 notes · View notes

my-current-obsession · 1 year

Photo

I decided to post a tier list of my thoughts of all the routes in various otomes that I’ve played. I was inspired to do this because I just finished Norn9, and while I’ll admit that upon finishing the game I have SEVERAL issues with the story as a whole and a few routes in particular, I did love Akito and Heishi enough to add them to my favorite routes of all time, and I’ll definitely return to the game every now and then just to replay those two, if nothing else. Looking forward to the fandisc, too!

I’d be happy to talk about my feelings in depth for basically any otome or specific route, if you’re curious. My absolute favorites are Code: Realize, Collar x Malice, Taisho x Alice, and Even if Tempest.

#norn9 #code realize #collar x malice #even if tempest #cafe enchante #hakuouki #bustafellows #nightshade #cupid parasite #variable barricade #otome #one day i WILL sit down and write an essay for why varibari in particular was ALMOST perfect but then fucked up spectacularly #it's by no means my least favorite otome but i wanted to love it and maybe it could have been one of my favorites #but nope. anyway i should probably finish one of the like 4 games that i kind of just. dropped.#i don't think my tastes are too obvious here. at least my likes have a pretty wide variety.#you can probably tell i'm NOT a fan of yanderes though. and while i rarely hate them i don't really care for the serious Team Dad types

214 notes · View notes

skrungblyshifter · 2 months

Note

artshield.io/watermarker

it's not Nightshade but it does confuse the AI and make it think that the image you made is AI, thus excluding it from the data sets.

it runs on browser so there's no downloads involved and it works similarly to Glaze.

please share this!!!

thank you, is good to have options!

#ai art theft #nightshade #glaze #Art shield #fuck ai bros #fuck ai art #fuck ai everything #fuck ai writing

36 notes · View notes

i-mean-technically · 1 year

Text

meant to finish this aaaaages ago for @them4ng0 based on their art here and here!

no warnings, just cute fluff uwu enjoy!

“This is going to be a wonderfully bad idea.”

“Nonsense, Megatron!” Optimist Prime said cheerfully. It was closing in on fall and the air was crisp. It was Megatron’s favorite season in this part of the continent. Optimus’ engine rumbled as he shifted gears, slowing down as he turned off the main road and Megatron followed. “The younglings deserve to have a treat, and the Terrans can’t share with Morgan and Robbie.”

“So you want to be the one to give newsparks candy?” Megatron asked, following above and behind the truck.

“Of course! Wheeljack made this batch specifically for them, I’m not not going to give it to them.”

“Then you get to deal with the hyped up fledgling and her equally tiring siblings.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad, have a little faith,” Optimus had to slow to a near crawl to go down the driveway of the Maltos and Megatron was once again thankful he was capable of flight as he watched Optimus’ chassis rattle and bounce. “They’re only younglings.”

“Famous last words,” Megatron muttered as the Malto farm came into view. He spotted Twitch’s excited waving before he heard Mo’s scream of joy.

“Mister Optimus!”

Megatron had manners, and so lowered himself on his landing gears before transforming. Human architecture was so fragile in that regard, and from what Dorothy had told him her house was old. And therefore even more fragile than typical human homes.

“Hi, Megatron!”

Megatron kneeled to greet the human children, lowering his hand for Mo to trustingly leap on, “Hello, Mo.”

“Are you guys here to wish me a happy three-fourths birthday?” She asked with a bright gapped-toothed grin, hair bouncing as she settled.

Chuckling, Megatron shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. But happy three and a quarter birthday.”

“Thanks!” Mo sat cross legged in his hand as he stood again. He was no longer afraid of handling the humans, but when it came to Dorothy’s children Megatron tended to take extra care. Fearless as they were, they were just as breakable. “Sooooo… whatcha dooooooin’?”

Megatron felt a spark of mischief and smiled down at Mo. “Optimus has candy for your siblings,” he whispered, feeling his smile widen at her gasp of surprised glee.

“Optimus has CANDY?!” She nearly shrieked, and Megatron watched as the terrans all paused, then started shouting at once, rushing poor Optimus to tug at his armor.

He started laughing as Optimus yelped in shock, trying to walk forward even as he was swarmed. “Megatron!”

“What?” Megatron replied, trying to choke back his laughter. Mo was a giggling lump in his hand. “I didn’t do anything!”

“I was-,” Optimus cut himself off with another yelp, wobbling in the air on one foot as Hashtag scaled his back and Jawbreaker hung off his arm. “I was going to give it to them later.”

“Oops.” He was completely unrepent.

“Alright, alright,” Optimus said loudly, scruffing Thrash from where he was inching up Optimus’ arm. With his free hand he reached into his subspace and pulled out the box of goodies, immediately having to raise it high above his head to avoid all the younglings making a desperate lunge for it. “One at a time!”

Megatron had made his way over by the barn at this point and it suddenly occurred to him as he watched Twitch’s pupils dilate to three times their normal size that they probably should have gotten Dorothy’s permission to give her children candy. It was too late by this point, and Megatron just settled in to watch the show.

Many hours, and an empty energon goodie container later, and Megatron was covered in passed out Terrans after helping Optimus chase them down on their ‘sugar high’. Thrash was limp on his head, little fingers having dug into the edge of the plating to hang on. Jawbreaker was snoring faintly against his chassis, arms down by his sides and settled against Megatron’s hip. His other arm was occupied with Hashtag, who was somehow still awake and groaning faintly with every step he took. “It’s your own fault,” he had informed her when she had complained of a stomach ache.

Glancing back at Optimus showed that he was only in a better position than him because he was carrying less. Nightshade had been all but thrown over Optimus’ shoulder while Twitch drooled on his other arm, all but curled up in his hand.

They were all so young it was almost painful.

“I think they’re all finally asleep,” Optimus whispered, clearly afraid of waking them all back up.

“Good. I’m blaming you for this,” Megatron said as he stepped carefully over a fallen log, trying not to drop the children in his arms.

“What? You’re the one who-”

“I did no such thing,” he said through a snicker, relaxing as the Malto farm came into view. “You have no proof that I did anything. Meanwhile…”

He knew the moment that Optimus saw Dorothy, the heavy steps behind him pausing before reluctantly starting up again. “You’re the one who gave her children candy.”

“Traitor,” Optimus muttered and Megatron smiled at Twitch when Optimus passed him.

“I can live with that.”

#transformers earthspark #transformers #tfe #tfe megatron #tfe optimus #twitch malto #thrash malto #hashtag malto #jawbreaker malto #nightshade malto #mo malto #maccadam #my fic #my writing #enjoy!

209 notes · View notes