PandaHugger808

~Arthur's POV~ I was not expecting _______ to come to school today, considering that we both had a bit of a frustration with Alfred. Why would he do that to her? That was nothing like him. "Arthur?" "Hm?" I was so dazed that I forgot that Kiku was standing next to me. "Are you sure that _______ will be okay for now?" I wanted to say she would be, but that was not the case; my brother was a danger to her. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I can't have her here at school unless I am allowed to supervise her." I am afraid of her safety. It hurts to know what Alfred did and what happened to her in the past. How could anyone be so cold to a lady like

A/N: FIRST, THIS IS GOING TO BE A DIAVALXREADER FICSECOND , maybe spoiler too, I MESSED WITH THE TIMELINE, AT THE BEGGINING WHEN AURORA IS A CHILD, READER IS ALREADY A TEENAGER, BUT LATER ON, IF YOU DO THE CALCULATIONS THE AGE GASP DON'T FIT, MY FAULT, I'M SORRY, but i'm not going to change it, the age difference between Aurora and Reader is of eight years, except at the moment of their meeting (sorry again)THIRD, I KILLED AURORA MOTHER SOONER THAN IN THE FILM (sorry again) Chapter one “Father, why I am suppose to know how to use a bow?”; the young girl asked her father. “For protection, for hunting, to keep you safeR

In the darkest corners of the moonlight room, he sat. Shrouded in a cape of the darkest of fabrics, you could have made the easy mistake of assuming he was the shadow, and the darker area about him merely the corner’s sad attempt to copy him. He frowned, ever so slightly, murmuring to himself. No one heard him though; the room was empty, still and quiet, and he was all alone. Save for his puppet, a cat which adorned his hand and cast an eerie grin upon whoever looked upon it. Copying the cat’s grin, the boy stood, arcing his back lightly and letting out a small sigh. “Another day…” He whispered sadly. “

You’d had a long night, watching films until at least two in the morning. When you woke up, it was unusually quiet. A loud rumble runs through the house and a bright flash appears outside your window; heavy rainfall starts and you realise it’s a storm. You were never good with storms, because of your past; at only 9 years old, a bolt of lightning struck someone right in front of your eyes. You remember the image so clearly; the people screaming and crying as the poor man trying to run to the shelter you were under, gets shocked and falls to the floor. You pull the covers up as another crash of thunder sounds. Slowly, you crawl ou

Stein x Reader A Lesson Well Learned ~*~Your POV~*~ I love DWMA. It' so much fun. I love talking to Maka about the books we read. I enjoy listening to Black*Star talk about how he will surpass God and how great he is. I poke fun at Kid a lot. Its really funny to see the way he reacts on anything asymmetrical. I draw giraffes with Patty. I like having small talk with Crona. All these things are great, but they don't help this one thing. The thing I hate the most, well more like the person I hate the most. Professor Stein. He so creepy. I can't deny I'm intimidated by his vast skills, but still. What kind of person enjoys dissecting anythin

2p!AmericaXReader: The Person I Love “Look (name), I really like you. You’re smart, pretty, and cool. When I first saw you I couldn’t get the courage to tell you that. That’s ironic being the guy who beat up gang members before, but will you be my girlfriend; even if you reject me I at least want closure.” Alfred confessed, expecting a response, but received none. “(Name)” he said confused. Your face was completely red and your (e/c) eyes were wide. Your mouth was gaping open.  You took a deep breath and then… “YES ALFRED. I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND! I ALWAYS WANTED TO CONFESS TO YO

It was the dead of the night and whoever was at your door, you’re going to give him, or her, a good beating for waking you up from your sleep. The knocks on the door was getting louder and louder with each passing moment and you yelled, “Coming,” from the top of your lungs to get your message straight. Finally reaching the door, you turned the knob hastily. You were faced with your brunette boyfriend, your bloody, bruised, bad boy, Alfred. His clothes were ripped and as bloody as his face. “Al what the eff?” He gave you a smile even with his swollen cheeks (damn he was still cute). Moved by pity (and the fact that he