princess panic!

growing up, some kids did drugs. other’s smoked. some drank too much. i did fandoms and i swear i was higher than any of them could ever be.

“He’s so perfect! Just look at him, my precious little baby boy! So talented! I love him”

-me talking about a bunch of 30+ year old guys.


Time Jump!!

I just really wanted to give Pidge long hair and Allura short hair. I think Pidge was sad when she had to cut it all off so she let it grow.

Keith is official the smol. He’s not happy about it.

(No Shiro because too many failed attempts. He’s too hot to make any decent changes)

*Meeting Ganondorf in Gerudo Desert*

Princess Zelda: As this is a negotiation outside royal grounds, I ask that everybody act in an appropriate manner.

[turning harshly to Link]

Princess Zelda: Especially Link! Is that understood?

Link: Yes, ma'am. I shall put my skills to good use to defend the honour of our cherished kingdom, it’s a privilege, ma'am!

Princess Zelda: I mean, do you understand the meaning of the word “appropriate”?

Link: Yes. I will make sure to use the appropriate weapon.

Princess Zelda: No!

Imagine that you are the crowned princess of a realm that is on estranged terms with Asgard. Despite that, you and your family often have to attend events from Asgard to maintain civility. When you were younger, you had already gone to Asgard a few times, but you have never managed to meet with Loki, hearing that he is always escaping from events like the ones you were attending.

One day, when you were on one of these trips, you sneaked out and decided to roam around for a bit in the streets. While you were looking around, Loki, disguised, comes running into you, tackling you to the floor. Hearing the guards right behind him, in a moment of panic, he pulls you right along with him when he runs away.

Once it was safe, you and Loki looked at each other and started laughing till you started to point out the fact that he should have left her back there, since now the guards would think of her as an accomplice for whatever he did. Embarrassed for his mistake, Loki started to try to defend himself, unsuccessfully. However, it just made you laugh at him more, starting an unlikely friendship.

For the next few years, you met up with Loki whenever you were on a trip to Asgard, still unaware that your friend was actually a prince. Later on you received an invitation for Loki’s coming of age ceremony, where you were introduced to Loki with the rest of his family by his side. You were shocked at seeing Loki, but suppressed it so to not alert anyone, since this was suppose to be your official first meeting with Loki.

When you were finally left alone with him, you started to taunt him, angry that your friend had kept such a thing under wraps. Feeling attacked and angry for the you doing the same thing, he taunts you back. This continues back and forth, getting increasingly aggressive, drawing attention to you both. When both of you realise what a spectacle you have made out of yourselves, you guys awkwardly laughed and then whispered to each other to meet up later. Things were settled peacefully between both of you, cementing your friendship further, but not without some fist and threats flung between the two of you.

For the future events you attended, Loki was there to accompany you, both of you growing closer with the increased time spent around each other. However, since the fight you guys had at his coming of age ceremony, it set the idea that both of you were unable to get along among the high society. You and Loki both laughed at the notion, but rolled along with it. Under the eyes of an audience, you and Loki flung insults and threats at each other, playing the role of enemies from opposing realms perfectly, but alone both of you were getting along great , toeing the line between friends and lovers.

30 Day OTP Challenge (Bucky Barnes) Day Twenty: Dancing

Note: Panic attack, FLUFFFFFFFF

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1010

Bucky’s heart was thumping loudly inside his ears as his hands slightly trembled on her waist afraid to move. His entire body was stiff as (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck when she noticed how he glanced around the room. “Bucky?” She asked as frowned softly. ‘Kill them.’ Voices chanted loudly in his head as he tried to calm down. “Babe?” She asked in worry as his eyes dialed. She hissed softly at the harsh grip on her hips, but she knew something was wrong by the dark look in his eyes. She frozen when she heard him murmur in Russian before he let out a shaky breath before he stepped back. ‘Kill them All. They mean nothing to you.’ The voices were getting so loud that he couldn’t even hear the hard pulse of his own heart anymore.

“(Y-Y/N)..” He stuttered softly as his breath caught in his throat before everything started going fuzzy, hearing the laughter of people or their quiet mumbles to another. Everyone was a threat, but he refused to hurt them, his body and mind were in two different places at the moment. Suddenly (Y/N) was pushed away from him, not too hard, but enough so that he couldn’t harm her. “Buck–” She was cut off as he started towards the exit. He was feeling claustrophobic as he bumped into people as his mind roared with voices for him to end each life that was littering the room. He was out of the room, panting heavily before he stormed off towards the bathroom as he shut the door. He sunk to the floor trying to regulate his breathing, but everything was burning, everything felt alive.

“Shit.” (Y/N) cursed watching as he left when Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Tony went over to her. “What happened?” Steve asked in worry. “I think Bucky was trying not to lose himself.” She sighed before she looked to them. “I’ll be back.” She said before running for the door when Steve and Natasha came with her. “Tony, stay here and keep the guests busy. Be prepared to evacuate in case something happens.” Steve called as Tony nods. “Please be careful.” Tony called back as they walked out of the dance hall. “Alright, where would he have gone?” Natasha asked. “Not far, whenever Bucky has an attack his body is very numb. He struggles to stay on his feet.” (Y/N) explained when she looked to the bathroom. “There.” She said running over.

“Buck?” Steve asked knocking on the door as everyone heard him murmuring in Russian. “What’s he saying?” Steve looked to Natasha. “Kill.” She whispered as (Y/N) bit her lip softly. “Bucky..” Her soft voice whispered through the door when he went quiet. “Bucky, I’m gonna open the door slowly okay?” She asked as her fingers wrapped around the knob before the door slowly creaked open and in the darkness sat Bucky. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry–I don’t–I don’t know what happened.” He whispered with his head on his arms that were resting on his knees. “It’s okay Babe. There was a lot of people there.” She said as she walked in carefully, knowing the dance by heart that she had to move slowly so he could see her coming. “It’s okay. She repeated.

“B-But you wanted to dance… I did too… I just… Everyone was talking so loud and then these voices were telling me to kill them. I couldn’t breathe… I had to… to get out of there.” His voice was trembling as he spoke. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” She said bending down beside him. “We can still dance. Steve, go ask Tony to turn up the music.” She smiles. “We’ll dance here.” She said as he frowns looking at her. “In the bathroom?” He asked when she shrugs. “I don’t care where we dance my love. I just want to dance with you.” She kissed his forehead as Steve and Natasha left when she stood up offering out her hands. She closed the door and locked it before slowly flipping off the light as she helped him stand up from the ground when he looked down.

A few minutes later the music grew louder and a slow song’s melody played into the bathroom as she wrapped his arms around her waist before placing her own onto his neck. “Thank you.” He mumbled softly laying his forehead against her own as she smiles to him. “Anything for you. We wanted to dance, we got to dance.” She whispered while they swayed in the fluorescent lighting as he pulled her flushed against his body, causing her to giggle happily. “This is not how I expected our dance to go.” He mumbled against her neck as she smiles. “Expect the unexpected.” She grins as he rolls his eyes chuckling when he looks at her. “How about when everyone leaves, or whatever we ask Tony for one more dance? Just so we could dance in the ballroom.” He whispered when she nods to him.

“I’d like the sounds of that.” She whispered back while they swayed to the gentle music playing as she pulled back to look at him. “But any dance with you is my favorite dance.” She smiles softly. “Ugh stop being adorable ya butt.” He said when she starts to laugh. “I’ll stop when you stop.” She counters smirking at him when he sticks his tongue out at her, causing her to return with her own tongue. “Rude.” He comments as she giggles softly before too long the song ended as she looked to him. “Are you doing better?” She asked when he nods taking her hand. “Much.” He murmured softly. “Good.” She smiles before unlocking the door, seeing the others standing there waiting for them as Bucky froze for a moment. They cared about him, they were worried for him. He wasn’t the man he use to be, but no one cared about that which caused him to smile. “Hey Tony, I had a question.” He said looking up to him.

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Panic Attack Princess

Prompt: Hi there, this is my first time requesting, and I don’t know if requests are closed by the time I send this in, but I was wondering if you can do an imagine where batsis has bad anxiety from school and tends to have panic attacks in public. I’ve been feeling really stressed lately so thank you if you do this!

Requested by: Anon

           “It’s embarrassing.”

           “It is not.”

           “They took out their phones and took pictures.”

           “Not the worst thing that can happen.”

           “They’re on the covers of every tabloid!”

           Jason stares down at you, “I don’t know what you want me to say kid. You’re the daughter of a billionaire, and an heiress. People are interested in you.”

           You sit up and stare at your brother, “But why? I’m boring. I watch Netflix for hours at a time. I do my school work, I don’t skip school, I don’t misbehave, and I keep to myself. I even read during the freaking pep rallies!”

           Jason shrugs, “Hey, I agree with you. You’re terribly boring.” You scowl and he grins, before plopping down next to you, “You’re also my little sister, and I adore you.”

           You cuddle into his side, “It was a full-blown panic attack Jason. I swear my mind is trying to end me.”

           He smiles at you, “You brain is sick. It’s the same as if it were a kidney or something. Fact is we’re looking to get it healthy, going to doctors, stuff like that.”

           You glance up at him, “When’s the last time you went to the doctor?”

           He smirks, “Probably when I was on the autopsy table.”

           You punch him in the arm, “NOT FUNNY!”

           “Jeez that punch hurt almost as much as a crow bar.”  

           You glare at him, before wiggling out of his hold and yelling, “DICK, JASON IS JOKING ABOUT HIS DEATH AGAIN.”

           Jason watches as you run out of the room in search of your oldest brother. His eyes go back to the paper laying on the coffee table, and the headline there, “Panic Attack Princess.” You had struggled with your anxiety since you were little, back when you had been kidnapped as a child.

           Places with large crowds, or places swarming with people could send you into an attack. Too much stress or attention could trigger it too. Jason had made it his mission in life to cheer you up after the attacks, to make you feel less embarrassed. You were his little sister after all.

           You’d only started medication a few days ago, and so far, there wasn’t much change. Supposedly that was normal for the first few months. It took a while to get in your system.

           “Jason!” His head snapped to the doorway where you stood behind Dick, “Were you joking about your death again?”

           He could only smirk and ask, “Did you DIE?”  


“Do you think we’re going to be legends?”

The question is simple on the surface, asked in the lilting, dreamy tone that Rina uses for everything that happens outside of a fight.  She’s a beautiful flower of a girl, the finest rose ever to grow in the gardens of Jupiter.  No one had expected her to be chosen as her planet’s protector.  The good money had been on her younger sister, which would have put Sailor Jupiter a year behind her cohort, yes, but age differences among the Senshi are not unknown–have even helped to forge some of the strongest teams in the long history of the solar system–and Rina had always seemed singularly unsuited for the battlefield.

It was a concern that has been proven groundless over and over again.  Rina may be a dreamer, but when she calls thorns up from the soil, she can destroy the enemies of Crystal Tokyo with as much efficiency as any soldier since the dawn of the second Silver Millennium.  She is a soldier to her core, this dainty little figure with rose briars in her hair, and so her questions are given the same weight that is afforded to any of the others.

Masami is the first to answer, twisting a ribbon of flame between her fingers as she says, “I hope not.”

“Why?”  Rina frowns as she turns, the motion knocking flower petals from the rose-colored cascade of her hair.  "Don’t you want to be remembered?“

"Becoming a legend means fighting something so big, so terrible, that no one dares forget about it, lest it come again.  I don’t want that.  I want to fight small battles, the kind you can defeat before dinner.  The kind that never get anywhere near our Princess.”  Masami shakes her head.  "She deserves better than to live in a time of legends.  We all do.“

"Don’t you want to live up to the legacy of your planet?  Don’t you want children to argue over who gets to be Mars when they play at recess?”

Masami smiles.  "No.  Let them fight over Uranus and Neptune and Mercury, if they want to play at living now; they fight enough to be Mars when they play at living in the past.  Mars is beloved enough without making me its latest legend.  I am at peace with the Senshi who came before me.“

"Easy to say, when they don’t point at you and call you the weak one,” murmurs Rina.  The dreaminess is gone from her tone, replaced by something darker: bitterness.  Regret.

Masami sits up straighter.  "What are you saying?“

"That maybe Jupiter chose wrong.”  Rina stands, shedding more flower petals as she goes.  "Maybe my planet would have been happier with someone who could be a legend.“

"You don’t know what you’re–”

“I think she knows exactly what she’s saying, don’t you?”  There’s nothing dreamy about this question.  This question is bright, painful cheer, the kind of brilliance that blinds without enlightening.  Masami stiffens.

There’s time, she thinks, her hand inching toward her transformation wand.

When the heel slams down on her wrist, grinding the bones against the ground, she doesn’t scream.  She’s proud of herself for that, for an instant.  Then all the world is burning light, and she’s screaming, and there’s nothing to be proud of anymore.  Nothing at all.


Natsuki rarely transforms.  She rarely needs to.  The Moon is at peace, and with it, the solar system; there are no dangers within or without for her to face.  She still trains with her Senshi, and watches as they train with her mother’s Senshi.  She enjoys the feeling of strength and swiftness and, yes, serenity that comes with her transformation–but her time needs a Princess more than they need another soldier, and so she most often stands by her mother’s side, head bowed in polite deference, trying not to think about the day when all this will be her responsibility.  When she’ll trade her name for a crown and become Queen Serenity, just like her mother before her, and her mother’s mother before that, and back, and back, all the way to the beginning of everything.

Sometimes she wishes she’d lived in an earlier time, a time of legends, a time of battles that would actually need one more warrior for love and justice.  But most of the time she’s happy to be who she is, to be when she is, a daughter of the moon, nothing less and nothing more.  Most of the time.

When Mars and Jupiter are ripped away from her–her first Senshi and her last, her courage and her innocence, without whom she barely knows how to stand–the loss strikes her like a physical blow.  She falls to her knees in the hall, eyes blank, hands useless at her sides, the Silver Crystal pulsing in her chest.  She can’t breathe.  She can’t breathe.  How is it that there’s so much air in the world, so much air all around her, and she can’t breathe?

Their absence is a hole in her heart.  She barely finds her feet, barely finds the strength to grasp her locket and thrust her hand into the air.  "Moon.“

That’s the beginning, yes.  That’s who she is.  Sailor Moon, Moon Princess, Natsuki, daughter of Serenity, who will be Queen.  She has it.


It hurts, it hurts so badly.  She can’t do this without them.  She was never supposed to lose them.  This isn’t the time of legends.  Her grandmother passed the crown in peace, fading as Serenitys always fade when their time is done, when the phase of the moon changes under their feet.  Her Senshi are her handmaids, her protectors, not her peers.  They’re supposed to be here.  They’re not supposed to leave her.


She’s never had power.  She’s never needed power.  She’s a princess, pretty and perfect and cosseted and raised in love, in love, in lo–

The ribbons wrap themselves around her, pink and blazing and perfect, as they have always been, each time they wrapped themselves around a daughter of Serenity’s line.  They count from the second Serenity, the one who truly founded the line that may last from here until forever; the one who knew love was a gift, and not a weapon.  There was no need for a Sailor Moon before the first Queen Serenity did her best to break the universe.  Sailor Moon healed it.  She has always been the Sailor of Healing, of Love, of Justice.  Of Necessity.  She is so much stronger than she knows.  She has to be.

The ribbons draw tight and Natsuki is gone, Sailor Moon in her place, moonlight-colored hair drawn into high odango, formal gown replaced by a skirt short enough to fight in, shoes designed to absorb the shock of her jumps, top tight enough to support her spine and protect her internal organs.  She gasps, glittering with the bright and terrible power of transformation, and runs.  Her Senshi need her.


Kaito and Souma walk hand in hand along the shore of the lunar sea.  Kaito hums to herself, and even untransformed, hears the sea humming sweetly back.  Souma is silent, but watches her with sloe-eyed adoration.  The wind that tangles in Kaito’s hair might as well be Souma’s fingers, pushing it away from the shorter Senshi’s face, leaving every scrap of her clear to view.

“See something you like?” asks Kaito.

“Always,” says Souma, and grasps her elbow, spinning her out, pulling her back, until Kaito is pressed against Souma’s chest, the two of them tangled in each other’s arms as they have been for so beautifully much of their lives.  Yoshiko rolled her eyes when they first came to her for training, until she found ways to chain wind and waves together, to turn two Senshi would refused to be parted into a single hyper-efficient weapon.  Not that they’ve ever been needed in that way; not that any of them have ever been needed in that way.  They live in peacetime.  They are Souma and Kaito before they are Uranus and Neptune, and they are happy.  Sweet stars, they’re happy.

Let the girls who stand closer to the Princess dream of becoming legends, of facing great dangers and carrying out noble missions.  Saturn leads.  Mars and Mercury advise.  Jupiter restores.  Pluto watches.  And Neptune and Uranus love.  What more could be asked of the protectors of a Princess?

The wind blows, carrying the scent of ice and emptiness.  Souma stiffens.  Kaito catches it immediately.  She pulls back, frowning as she scans her lover’s face.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”  Souma looks over her shoulder.  "Something’s wrong.“

"Wrong how?”

“Wrong we should transform.  I think…I think the Princess needs us.”

They are peaceful people.  They are lovers walking on a shoreline.  They are transformed and gone in a matter of seconds, leaving a circle of glass where they were standing, sand melted by the force of their panic.  They do not run so much as they leap, verging on flight in the low lunar gravity as they chase down the source of the coldly blowing wind.  They have to hurry.  They have to hurry.  The farther they go, the more the certainty grows, in both of them, that time is running short.

The scent on the wind becomes a raging battle as they grow nearer.  Ice spires blast upward from the ground, encircled by the all-devouring shadows of Saturn’s attack.  Then there is a burst of silver glitter, and haste becomes panic.  Their Princess is fighting.  Sailor Moon is fighting.  If their Princess has been moved to transform, then–

The golden chain wraps around Neptune’s ankle and jerks her down, slamming her against the ground before she can find the breath to summon her attack.  Then there is no breath, there is no body, there is nothing but–

–screaming, screaming, because she is alone, yes, she is alone here on this world without a name.  How can Haruka have done this?  How could she go?  She didn’t have to go, she could have fought, could have stayed, could have conquered death itself with Michiru at her side.  They didn’t need forever, but they should have had more time, they should have had centuries, eons, time, and time, and time.  How dare she–


The name is familiar.  The voice is not.  For the first time in a thousand years, Michiru opens her eyes and looks at the battlefield, confusion breaking her usual calm.  A girl she doesn’t know flings ice with geometric precision at Jupiter, while another girl with hair as white as seafoam swings Saturn’s glaive in a defensive arc, holding Mars at bay.  In the center of the battlefield, a girl in what looks almost like Usagi’s fuku, but bleached, faded into pastels, fights…



Michiru turns.

The girl in front of her is too young: that is the first of it.  They’re all girls on this battlefield, not yet women.  This one, with her golden hair and her too-familiar fuku, is no different.  She stares at Michiru with something caught between confusion and horror, and her eyes are a study in heartbreak.

“What did you do?” she asks.  She takes a step forward.  The wind whips around her, already rising, even though she has yet to shape it.  "Where is Sailor Neptune?  What did you do to her?“

Understanding crashes down like a wave.  "You’re so young,” Michiru whispers.  "You found each other so young.  How can she…I am so sorry.  I shouldn’t be here.“

Where is Kaito?!” demands this new Sailor Neptune, this sweet child, and raises her hands over her head.  "Tell me!“

"No!”  Michiru scrambles to her feet.  The old power moves through her, welcoming her home.  She knows the fight better than this child does.  She could grind her into gravel, and let…let…

She could have Haruka back, and all it would cost is the life of her replacement, this fresh-faced child who doesn’t understand how much she has to lose.  She could allow her selfishness to remake the world.

“I am so sorry,” she whispers, and, “Deep Submerge,” she howls, and the pretender, the successor, is washed away in the face of a superior opponent.

It won’t last long.  No version of Sailor Uranus will ever be that easy to take down.  Michiru gathers her strength and leaps, aiming for the source of this trial.

Sailor Venus–who remembers, who cannot age, who cannot die, who has never been released from service–is so deeply sunk into her battle against Sailor Moon that the blow to her side takes her by surprise.  She hits the ground on her hip, sliding hard, and before she can get her balance back, Neptune is there, her elbow held against Venus’s throat, a feral light in her eyes.

Minako smiles.  "There you are,“ she says, smug as Artemis with a bowl full of cream.  "You’re welcome.  But you hit the wrong target.”

“Put us back,” snarls Michiru.  "We’re the dead.  We’re the past.  Release us, and bring these children home.“

"You’re not the past,” says Minako, still smiling.  "You’re a legend.  Children play at being you, they fight over who gets to hold the mirror and the sword.  Little girls dance in your name.  You’re the present, and the future, and you deserve to live in peacetime so much more than the simpering little fool who pretends to hold your title.  Let me lead you home.“

"I won’t–”

“Before she died, Haruka said the only thing she’d regret was leaving you.”

Michiru hesitates.

Selfishness is essential on the battlefield.  There are those who would call it a failing, but without selfishness, what is there to lead the soldiers home?  Michiru was always a poet of selfishness.  She knew what she wanted.  She knew how far she was willing to go in order to get it.  She fought and she paid and she suffered and what was her reward?  Being left alone, last one standing, broken-hearted and fading by inches.  It’s tempting.  It’s so tempting.  She could have everything she ever lost, and all it would cost is one more enemy left to dust and ashes.  She’s been damned since she tempted Haruka out of her comfortable, safe life.  What’s one more damnation?

“No,” says Michiru calmly, and punches Venus square in the nose.  The golden Senshi reels.  "No,“ Michiru repeats, and punches her again.

She will reflect, later, on the fact that she could have won, if only she hadn’t looked so much like one of the enemy.

This new Uranus has her own attacks.  ”Wind Spiral Snare!“ howls a voice that isn’t familiar enough to avoid, and Michiru is lifted away from Venus, lifted into the air kicking and howling fury and frustration.

Venus pauses long enough to blow a two-fingered kiss, and then she’s gone, a golden streak heading for the horizon, Jupiter and Mars behind her.

The wind cage shatters.  Michiru drops to the ground on hands and knees.  When she raises her head, it’s no surprise to find Sailor Moon, this new, young, innocent Sailor Moon, standing over her with a scepter in her hand and vengeance in her eyes.  The others are behind her, Mercury and Uranus and Saturn, youth and fury incarnate.

"What have you done to our friends?” demands Sailor Moon.

Oh, to be so young.  Oh, to have so much to lose.

For the love of Serenity, thinks Michiru, and aloud, she says, “The legends are true,” and oh, they are so like she was, and so different.

They have so much left to lose.


Happy birthday, @docholligay!