#(( cliffhangerrrrrr

[starneko123]

Moon Bringer

OC Characters Involved

Selene ♔ Tethys

(Tethys belongs to @ren-meteor! Selene belongs to me)

Something was wrong.

Tethys wouldn't be able to describe it even if you asked her. But she could say one thing everything felt new. She can't remember much of her childhood if she thought about it for too long things became more blurry.

She tried to focus on the things she knew. The things she was well aware of. Tethys huffed as she walked the streets of her village everything had gotten boring lately. She felt antsy. She wasn't meant to be in one place for too long or her whole life for that matter.

If she started her journey now in the early morning she would arrive in Outworld at least by midday. She knew she would have to stop at the neighboring villages for supplies and she didn't mind that. She was counting on it actually.

She had heard many rumors lately such as the princesses of Outworld were soon to be crowned and betrothed, and there were gods roaming around some seeking vengeance and others seeking solace. One rumor that stuck out to her was that there was a woman roaming from village to village wandering around looking for something.

They described her as having platinum blonde hair in a bun wrapped with intricate braids as if to protect something within it. She wore robes of deep colors such as blue and purple and she wore them short to fit the blistering sun of Outworld. Everyone never failed to mention how she had to be blessed by the elder gods for her eyes represent the heavens. Galaxies upon Galaxies some would say.

As Tethys rearranged her sling she realized she was reaching the edges of the village because everything had begun to look sparse. Except for grass, there were miles and miles of field to walk through Tethys sighed and began her so-called journey.

She commended her earlier thoughts on wearing something lighter. Her robes were a cream white overlapping with brown and ropes of gold on each side of her. Even though she was kicking dirt and sand out of her sandals earlier they were a good decision as well but she was still considering stopping and slipping on her signature boots. The only jewelry she sported at the moment was a black rope necklace with a sapphire gem in the middle.

As she started passing through the last patch of fields she entered another village and she was greeted with people dancing up and down the dirt roads and music making its own melodies and singing accompanying said melodies with their sonatas.

She went to a fruit stand and purchased a purple fruit with a green leaf on top and it fit well into her hand it also had a bit of weight to it. The seller said it was packed with juices and quite sweet so she was anticipating it as she perched herself on a rock. There were people everywhere it was quite crowded honestly but it didn't bother her.

As she began to peel the fruit back she didn't notice immediately that someone sat a few bodies from her which again wasn't a problem. Out of her peripheral she watched as the woman took her hood off and waves of pearls flowed down her back. She watched her bathe in the sun, her hands folded in her lap and legs crossed.

Now Tethys was staring taking in her appearance and her outfit. A mix of black and blue her heels were knee-high with a silver crescent design on top with a matching crescent necklace. She had on a blue corset with a short black overcoat that was connected to her hood.

Then her head snapped in her direction to meet Tethys and like the timid person she never was, she focused back on her fruit, stuffing piece to piece in her mouth with purple juices drizzling from her lips.

A smile now graced the woman's lips and she couldn't stifle the giggle that came out if she tried.

"Hello."

"Sorry."

A greeting and an apology met each other. Tethys looked at the woman and kept her mouth a bit embarrassed to open it once again and get bumbled with words she shouldn't.

The woman then held out her gloved hand, "Hello, I'm Selene."

Tethys found her smile warm and comforting but also familiar. Tethys looked at her and then at hers and her mind stuttered a bit. "I'm sorry I would love to greet you but I wouldn't want to ruin your gloves with nectar. I heard it gets sticky when dried." Tethys rushed and then Selene handed her a white cloth. "Best not to let it settle."

"Thank you." She stuffed the last bit of fruit in her mouth and plucked the cloth from Selene's fingers. "I am Tethys." Selene nodded her smile never leaving.

"Who are you?"

"A friend if you accept me as one."

Well, this would have to be the fastest friend she has ever made. The village elders would be impressed not really though. Selene sat closer to Tethys and their faces were awfully close. Tethys had to be sweating Outworld weather was something no one could be prepared.

"You seem awfully familiar have we met before?" Selene's voice was soft with a deep tilt. "If we have I don't remember but I feel like...I would remember someone like you. You look hard to forget." Selene placed a hand on her thigh and patted it.

"That's quite the compliment."

"Yes well, I don't know where-" Tethys next set of words died on her tongue as both Selene and Tethys looked towards to sky to see it consumed with red and splattered with orange. "What's happening?!" Tethys looked towards Selene and she meets and mirrors her look. Tethys eyes travel down to Selene's necklace. Selene's glowing necklace. Before Tethys could back away Selene grabbed her wrist and started dragging her through the crowd that was going half frantic.

"It's not what you think I swear it." Selene's voice cracked and Tethys could see whatever facade she had earlier was slowly crumbling down.

"Nothing is anything...nothing is what we think. Nothing is no longer accurate. You will help me make it better."

[aerialsquid]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 17: Sally

(Continuation of this scene.)

Author Note: This fragment has a content warning for nonconsensual aether feeding that might tangentially resemble an assault. Idk how to tag this besides 'fantastical violation metaphorically resembling real world ones' but like. Make your reading choices accordingly.

--------

It didn't hurt, was the problem. Even with his chronic anxiety Martyn took far too long to realize something had gone terribly wrong. Dollmaker had put the weird mouth embedded halfway down its neck on Martyn before, after all. No reason to not assume this was more of its wet kisses. Whatever strange stilling of the aether that Dollmaker did to disassemble and reassemble its dolls meant there was no pain when the teeth sank into Martyn's shoulder and the vast, dark maw began to feed. 

There was an odd tugging, a sense of dizziness, a feeling of cold creeping along his arm and then a feeling of emptiness that even someone who'd touched every magical discipline Eorzea would allow had no vocabulary to describe - not just emptiness, but an active, sucking void, a whirlpool that he was being pulled into.

His weary mind frantically battered the pieces of his thoughts together with the strange sensation until finally, by a mercy, the answer snapped into place.

The voidsent was devouring his aether, bite by slow bite.

This wasn't – I didn't agree to this, stop this–

"My doll, precious doll, sweet doll," Dollmaker moaned. "And how delicious your essence. Sweet and potent, fluttering with purest life. Just a taste, doll, just a taste, you owe me that much, you owe me…"

The oddly comforting locks around his limbs now revealed themselves for the chains they had always been. Martyn couldn't move, couldn't scream as the teeth dug into his flesh. The massive tongue laved at his arm, drawing his essence in deeper down the voidsent's throat.

Nonononono

His cane was across the room, as useless as if it were in remote Thavnair. Nothing to channel with. No focus. Incredibly unsafe, incredibly ineffective, but good gods he couldn't even cry for help. With that monstrous mouth across his vision, all Martyn could think of was the rotting undead goobue wandering the ruins of Amdapor, its hunger so vast that its own stomach had opened a maw of its own. The Gourmand, they'd called it. 

Spectral teeth bared in the dim light of the tunnel and snapped down on Dollmaker's gluttonous neck. The monster jerked, body wriggling at the impact. "What is this? What–" It slapped the teeth away. The slow drawing in of aether continued, but it had broken Dollmaker's focus just long enough.

By force Martyn ordered his body to flinch away, his neck to turn inch by agonizing inch. He pulled in what precious aether Dollmaker hadn't already devoured, coiling it, sharpening it.

Don't touch me don't touch me you can't touch me

Protection to harm his enemies, to make any hand that touched him suffer. The sharp edges of a thousand sabotender needles exploded from Martyn's body. Dollmaker screeched, dropping Martyn's body from its arms as it clawed at the tiny spines embedded in its dark flesh. Another burst and spikes of ice slammed into its mask, leaving a crack along it. Glowing blue seeped through the crack and the eyeholes of the mask, shimmering in tune with the rising rage in its voice.

"Fiend, how dare–how–!"

Later, Martyn would realize the moment the rage turned to horror and regret in the voidsent's glowing gaze. Right now, he just wanted the vile thing to burn. 

Martyn shook himself, rolling up to curl on his side. His clumsy arms folded around himself, a protective gesture for the blue mage's last resort. When you couldn't win a fight, you made it a draw. Fire aether channeled between his palms. The dripping voidsent reached out for him again, its voice high and piteous.

"Wait–doll, please, Martyn–"

There was the reek of sulfur, the crack and roar of flame, and then nothing at all.

--------

Credited as the source of the “bomb” voidsent family's name, Self-destruct, when used by blue mages, converts the entirety of its caster's energy into fire-aspected aether to cause an explosion. The application of oil has been observed to make it more effective─though likely also more painful.

[solarsturniolo]

Texts with FWB!Matt

Tags: @flowerxbunnie @sturniolosreads @simplysturn @megamett44-lover

Warnings: Suggestive content / cursing / toxic!Matt

a/n: cliffhangerrrrrr 😜

[ofhismeow]

AWWUGHJGH I JUST FINISHED DEAD BOY DETECTIVES AND OH MY GOD THAT CLIFFHANGERRRRRR!!!!! IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCRATCH UP THE FURNITURE!!!!!!!

[facetsofthecloset]

Ok RWD season 4 finale rambling time:

Sooooooo that was the tensest I’ve been during a fight in a while!

I initially couldn’t catch what the name of the Inevitable was and thought it was the Arbiter, so I was like “Ace Attorney legal battle?” but no lol

I mean kind of at the end but y’know

The moment with Suvi was sweet though, many found family points lol

Also fucking love the bits about Vhas and VRLA’s warding rings 😂 I don’t ship it seriously but it is very funny

And then the season cliffhangerrrrrr ahhhhh

I’m less freaking out and more “extremely well executed, perfect no notes” but also I knewwww when they asked Cashmere (that’s not his name I know but I’m not looking up the spelling rn y’all know who I mean lol) if he’s been keeping his mouth shut and he was like “yeah totes!” that that was going to come back to bite them. I totally thought in the episode they’d follow that up a bit more but yeah no lol

When they said next season starts in January I was like “WHAT?! That’s a way longer break than before?!” But then I realized it’s mid September and no, it’s not really that far away it’s the same amount of break time my brain is just stuck in June asfdhdgwusjxnsk

But this was the perfect way to close out a day after I interviewed for a new job (which I got!) and I am very hype for the new season 🥰

[adventuringblind]

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH CLIFFHANGERRRRRR

Also ‘Their words are not written in gold, but mine are drenched in blood. ‘ goes SO HARD WHAT THE HELL you’re AMAZING AHHHHHHHH ILYYYY AND YOUR WRITING (/P)

Didn’t expect that from Daniel tbh, and it looks like Oscar didn’t either…

Mwhahahahaha I love me a good cliffhanger. It will make you love me for resolving that mess in chapter five and also hate me again because of the contents of chapter five :))

But like... Carlos as a bear-

DANIEL IS A MORALLY GRAY GREMLIN ALRIGHT! I actually really like him in this story because you don't know what he's thinking. You will find out eventually... but for right now that could've been a simple mistake on his end ;)

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Dont leave us on a cliffhangerrrrrr 🤣😭

TWAS NOT INTENTIONAL TRUST!!!

[therealcocoshady]

i dont even care that All Of You was posted like an 1 hr ago i am in fucing love eith it (im also plus size) and am begging for a part 2 cause that was cliffhangerrrrrr‼️‼️

OMG thank you. 🥹❤️. I loved writing it, with Marshall being an absolute sweetheart. Let’s be honest, Marshall « Look at my girl omg she’s so sexy » Mathers is such a great character 😭❤️.

I know there’s a cliffhanger but I literally have no idea what to write for a part 2 ? That last part was mostly Reader being in disbelief, still not comprehending that this man is a simp for her 🥹.

But hey, if you have ideas of what could happen… drop it in my ask ❤️

[just-jordies-faves]

AAAAAHHHHG CLIFFHANGERRRRRR

omg i’m so glad i didn’t die tho sukuna still needs me 🥰🥰🥰🥰 <- pure, unfiltered delusion

do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you

sukuna x reader summary: the higher ups succeed in kidnapping you and sukuna doesn't know if he'll get you back alive. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: fluff and angst. reader is kidnapped and gravely injured. depictions of blood. canon typical violence. "good girl". cursing. ft gojo. aged up!yuuji. fem!reader. not canon compliant. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: and finally folks, we've reached the climax of the series. there will only be one more official chapter after this one, so i hope this lives up to expectations. this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it's certainly better when serving as a culmination to the other chapters. i'm a little nervous posting this, so i'd love to hear your thoughts :) series masterlist // masterlist

brontë

sukuna isn't sure at first why the name is familiar, but he soon realizes that a great many of the books on your shelf are authored by women of that name, including jane eyre.

though he finds your copy of wuthering heights, written by an emily brontë, tucked away in the drawer of your nightstand, the headphones you'd asked him grab lying on top of it.

he pulls the book from its spot with care, as the cover is worn and frayed at the edges. flipping through the pages, there are quite a few quotes underlined and countless scribbles in the margins.

while you'd forced him to read jane eyre, he tucks wuthering heights under his arm of his own volition. he isn't sure if it's because you've kept this one separate from the others, or because it might give him an opportunity to know you better, or because he's positive it will make you happy, but he does it all the same.

when he steps back into the living room, he drops your headphones in your lap and takes the seat beside you, wasting no time in beginning the first chapter.

"what've you got there?" you eventually question, even though you know the answer.

he doesn't spare you a glance when he responds, "a book."

"oh, yeah? what kind of book?"

he elects to ignore you, which only serves to encourage your mischievous tone. "i thought romance novels were beneath you and your refined taste."

finally looking at you, he narrows his eyes at your childish taunt. "do you want me to read it or not?"

"of course—"

"then i suggest you be a good girl and behave yourself."

your mouth snaps shut so abruptly that your teeth click as they meet, something sukuna takes note of with a raised brow. you're thankful when he returns to reading rather than saying anything more.

so without any additional interruptions, he delves into the tragic story of heathcliff and catherine. or more precisely, the pain and destruction that follows it.

the further he reads, the better he discerns that while you seem to have a penchant for the brontë sisters, they seem to have a penchant for writing about men that are wicked and callous.

the very notion makes him chuckle.

maybe it explains why he's sitting here with your feet in his lap, while you try and fail (rather cutely) to stifle your giggles at some stupid youtube video.

"what?" you ask, taking out one of your headphones once you notice he's staring at you with a small smile.

"nothing. just enjoying the story."

the way you beam in response makes his mouth go dry.

"hah! i knew it! you're a romantic at heart."

you make a big show of pressing your hands to your chest and swooning.

"settle down there," he chides, his hand patting your thigh. "you're getting ahead of yourself."

two days later, sukuna feels that something isn't quite right. it's barely perceptible, nothing more than a minute shift in the atmosphere, but it grows more palpable as time stretches on.

yuuji's mission takes him farther from home than usual, to a little town about two hours outside of the city.

the curse he exorcises upon his arrival is much weaker than he's grown accustomed to, probably only a third or fourth grade.

yuuji doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least, he pretends not to. sukuna thinks that's the problem with optimists— they don't take action quickly enough, too busy wasting their time hoping for the best.

when he returns home late that afternoon only to find your apartment door slightly ajar, his hand hesitates before pushing it open.

he discovers that the living room is littered with residuals, but it's eerie how nothing else is out of place... save for you, who is no where to be found.

in a disbelieving panic, he begins checking all the rooms, not hearing sukuna's frantic voice even though it's coming from inside his own head. "she's not here... idiot, she's not here. we have to go. we have to go now."

he eventually finds a note lying on the coffee table, but even this he hardly processes— something about surrendering himself and sukuna to the higher ups at headquarters in exchange for your life.

"listen to me, brat... you're wasting time... idiot!"

"what?" he barks abruptly.

"she isn't far, a couple blocks to the east at most—"

"it doesn't matter. headquarters is to the west. that's where we need to go."

"have you failed to comprehend a single thing i've said about the higher ups?" sukuna sneers. "they'll kill us, then kill her too. she knows too much about jujutsu society. they won't let her live, and that's if she's not... if she isn't already..."

he can't get the word out.

"no... no, they wouldn't..."

"now is not the time for your blind faith in the integrity of others." sukuna tries again and again to assume control of his vessel, and while the force behind it makes yuuji's head pound, it's no use. "for fuck's sake— please, yuuji!"

it's the first time he's heard the curse occupying his body say his actual name or use the word please, and in a strange way, it seems to ground him to some degree.

itadori yuuji has always been uncannily fast, but as soon as he makes his way out onto the street, it's like his feet aren't even touching the pavement. he appears as a blur to the people he passes by and it happens so briefly that they more than likely disregard it as a trick of the light.

the ruby decorating your neck leads them right to you, a low hum of frequency that only sukuna can hear.

yuuji comes to a stop in front of an old warehouse building. there are several wooden boards nailed across the main entrance, which splinter and fall to the earth under the impact of his impatient fist.

although the people down the hall quiet themselves upon hearing the crash, he can still sense their energy. he just can't seem to pick up on yours.

maybe sukuna is wrong? maybe you're not here after all.

"no," comes sukuna's voice, cold and hard. "she's here."

he makes his way down the stretch of hallway and to an open door where he stops, both of his feet planting firmly on the ground. everything appears to be frozen as he stares at ten sorcerers who quietly stare back.

it's clear they were not expecting yuuji, but he knows the higher ups assigned so many sorcerers just in case he did somehow figure out where they brought you.

he recognizes many of their faces and even knows some of their names, their familiarity no doubt intended to discourage him from engaging them.

after a few moments, yuuji's eyes land on your figure— motionless on the floor.

he has to admit, the higher up have put together a fairly sound plan. it's just that there's one small detail they failed to account for.

a curious and constraining sensation erupts from the center of his chest, and yuuji doesn't quite understand what's happening until he registers he's no longer the one in control of his body.

the king of curses remains completely still as he studies you from afar with a slight tilt of his head, his mind refusing to believe the scene right before his eyes.

when the gravity of the situation finally settles in, a gut churning agony blossoms in his stomach and bleeds into every part of his body. every bone. every pore. every vein.

the entirety of him burns, both inside and out.

the air in the room is heavy, overburdened with hostility and raw power. it makes the sorcerers' knees buckle and they nearly collapse beneath the immense pressure.

as sukuna takes a step toward the nearest person, the edges of his vision turn white.

he moves with deadly precision, at a speed which very few people on earth could even begin to comprehend.

it's a joke how quickly it's all over.

some of them are in pieces. others have exploded into nothingness. a few are burnt to ash.

in his haste, sukuna nearly misses the final sorcerer. he's probably the youngest of them all, cowering in the corner of the room. his eyes are wide with horror and his body shakes with fear.

"p-please, spare m-me. i didn't touch her," he sputters out.

the laugh that follows is utterly humorless. "do you actually believe that makes a difference to me?"

"i told t-them not to hurt her! i swear. that's how i got this." he points to his bottom lip, busted open and swollen. "she even told me she was sorry that i got hurt... that i didn't have to defend her."

this gives sukuna pause and his jaw clenches as he considers what you would tell him right now were you conscious.

so even as every fiber of his being screams at him to end the sorcerer's miserable, pathetic life... he restrains himself and pins him to the wall instead, pressing a forearm to his throat.

"go back to the higher ups. go and tell them that if anyone lays a hand on her ever again, i will ruin them," he spits, venom lacing each word. "i'll slaughter every last one of them. i'll level their homes. i'll take everything from them. tell them this is a promise they shouldn't take lightly."

when sukuna takes a step back, the young sorcerer crumbles to the ground. "i- i- i will."

"then get out of my sight," he growls.

returning his attention to you, his demeanor shifts in every respect.

you're going to be okay. you're going to wake up. he's going to take you home and it will be like none of this ever happened.

but when he falls to your side, his knees meeting the ground so brutally that it cracks beneath his weight, his conviction falters.

your blood is spilt onto the concrete. your skin is cold. he can't tell if you're breathing. he can't feel your heartbeat.

he determines that the gash across your side deserves his attention first and his hands tremble as they move to cover it.

he puts every ounce of power he has into his reverse cursed technique, but your eyes don't flutter and your chest doesn't rise nor fall.

his palms stain crimson, and while blood has never bothered him before, the fact that it's yours forces the bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat.

and his face is wet.

why is his face wet?

why are his lips trembling?

why is his vision blurred?

he wipes at his cheeks, leaving a trail of your blood across his face in the process.

"no," he chokes out. "please, don't do this. you're fine. please, you have to be fine. please."

the king of curses begs, but he has no idea who his desperation is directed toward. maybe it's you. maybe it's the gods. maybe it's some entity that's unknowable to him.

hell, maybe it's just whoever will listen to him. there has to be someone out there, right? something.

unbeknownst to him, and poetic in sorrowful sort of a way, his next pleas are reminiscent of heathcliff's after he learns of catherine's death.

"be with me always"

"stay with me, angel. please don't go."

"take any form"

"hate me for this if you want, for being the reason you're in this mess. you can't hate me anymore than i already hate myself."

"drive me mad"

"i'll read every single stupid romance novel on your bookshelf. i promise i'll play all of your ridiculous card games."

"only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you!"

"just don't leave me here without you. i don't want to be here without you.

"oh, god! it is unutterable!"

"please," he whimpers.

"i cannot live without my life!"

"you're everything. you are everything. you can't leave me with nothing."

"i cannot live without my soul!"

"i love you," sukuna laments. "i love you."

he doesn't even comprehend the words that have been tumbling past his lips, because they're coming from a part of himself that he long believed to be dead and buried.

it's the part of him that can feel suffering and regret and loss and love.

it's the part of him that you've been painstakingly unearthing whenever you send a smile his way. whenever you curl into his side. whenever you press your lips to his.

and he's so undeserving of it each and every time. he's known that. god, has he known that.

he thinks bitterly of the night you'd walked to the park together hand in hand— when you told him the universe had sent you to knock him down a peg.

turns out you were wrong.

the universe gave you to him, but only so it could take you away too.

and it won't just knock him down a peg. it will fucking destroy him. it will completely and irrevocably destroy him.

this is what he does deserve.

how is it that you can be both his salvation and his undoing?

"i love you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

it's ironic that the three words he's never once said in his entire life are the only ones he can manage in this moment.

he hears a quiet sigh escape your lips, but he knows that it's just his imagination— nothing more than the universe playing its final sick joke.

the sun is out and its rays are peeking through the window of your bedroom. sukuna thinks it's despicable.

everything should be cold and dark today.

you're lying in bed half dead and the only thing keeping sukuna's sanity intact is the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

he should go to jujutsu headquarters and deliver a slow, painful death to every single person involved in yesterday's events. then he should turn their headquarters to ash and stand there watching until the wind blows every last bit away.

but more than that, he should be by your side, so that's where he's remained.

it's been nearly a day and you still haven't woken up, so he's taken to performing reverse cursed technique on you every few hours.

yuuji had shoko come by last night and she assured him your body just needs time, but sukuna doesn't intend on taking any chances. aside from the brat, there isn't a single sorcerer he trusts.

so naturally when gojo teleports directly in the middle of your living room unannounced, sukuna moves swiftly to his feet and blocks the doorway to your room.

gojo regards him nonchalantly, hiding his surprise that yuuji is not the one to greet him. "what are you doing... out and about?"

"that's none of your concern."

"right. well, i came to check in."

"that's not necessary."

the two men watch one another carefully, before gojo eventually chuckles. "god, you actually care about her. i guess the whole soul thing should have been proof enough, but i couldn't bring myself to really believe it until now."

sukuna doesn't respond, so the other man continues. "you should know that the threat to her has been... dealt with."

"that so?" sukuna asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mhmmm. word of this spread to the three clans and they agreed civilians have no place in jujutsu politics if it can be helped. not to mention your little... messenger. it all caused quite the ruckus for the higher ups."

"i don't think ruckus is enough to deter them." his tone makes it clear that he feels gojo is wasting his time.

"this isn't the heian era anymore, you know. the higher ups may still be the figureheads of jujutsu society, but they have little say when all three clans concur on a matter." receiving nothing more than a blank stare, he adds, "besides, i'm rather fond of her myself, so i may or may not have made certain threats of my own."

sukuna's eye twitches. "anything else you feel compelled to share before you leave?"

"can i at least see her before i go?" gojo questions, peering over sukuna's shoulder.

"if you do not value your life, i welcome you to try."

a sly grin breaks out on gojo's face.

"eager to make good on your promise of killing me from all those years ago?" he pauses, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if he's pondering something of great importance. "as much as i'd love to see you try, we shouldn't wake our precious sleeping beauty before she's ready, so maybe another time."

with that, he disappears, leaving a very irritated sukuna in his wake.

"our," he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. "that unbearable imbecile."

when he turns on his heel, however, the malicious look is immediately wiped from his face because you're awake.

you're awake and peering at him from behind heavy lids.

"hey," you greet in a small voice.

his eyes grow impossibly soft and he sits on the bed beside you, his hand moving to caress your cheek. your skin is warm again.

"hey, angel."

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[1d1195]

WE HAVE TO WAIT MORE ON THE CLIFFHANGERRRRRR

I KNOW I'M SORRY

I wish I had more time to write because I would post it on Thursday if I could finish it but I simply don't have the time :(

It's already Wednesday though! So Monday will be here ASAP!

xoxo

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Dark Prophecy: Chapter 25 (SPOILERS)

"Big birds are evil / They charge me with razor legs" Are the ostriches back? :D?

"Frenzied young women threw their strophiae at me." Holy fuck, that's an ancient type of bra. This is still a kids' book?

"six combat ostriches" The big birds.

"The demigods of Commodus's Imperial Household" They're like Meg, basically? I wonder if any effort will be made to free them or turn them to their side. "And, predictably, an entire section of the stands was filled with wild centaurs." Fifteen bucks they're not even working for or with the Triumvirate. They're just here for the show. Are they Party Ponies or just centaurs? "They blew their vuvuzelas" VUVUZELA (n.): a long horn blown by fans at soccer matches in South Africa Google also notes that the name is trademarked in the UK. I think they are Party Ponies due to the party supplies mentioned. Guess they're chaotic neutral. They'll go anywhere a bloodbath is promised, no matter if it's the good or bad side. I can get behind that lifestyle.

"glimpse of a golden-brown racing suit." Again, what kind of race is this going to be? I see no cars or chariots or horses. Best I can guess is they're going to race on the ostriches, but idk if they can handle the weight of a person and still run. Wasn't there a war fought against them once in Australia? No, that was emus. Are ostriches just as vicious?

"This was exactly the sort of welcome I'd been longing for." Yayyyyy. Clap clap clap. Meg. What have you led yourself and Apollo into? You did not need to check this out. You could've just left! Wait a minute, was the audience just sitting there hoping these two would show up? What was their plan B if they didn't? Nah, Commodus doesn't strike me as the type to have a plan B.

"I wondered if she might have betrayed me once again" Yeah, I thought that for a second too, but it would've been ridiculous to stage all those fights with Lit and the sea serpent just to get them here. She didn't do this on purpose.

"This is just the dress rehearsal" This is the dress rehearsal??? If this is the rehearsal, then the real event is going to be a waking nightmare! Does Commodus... does he have eyes? Can he SEE the monstrosity that is before him? I guess his advisors were too scared to tell him to tone it down a notch. Or maybe they did and they're six feet under now.

"You're next. But Meg couldn't have known about that... could she?" Yeah, no. That's a coincidence.

"My throat made the sound of a vuvuzela." Sorry, I couldn't keep a straight face at that. Anyway, I bet the Dark Oracle told him something vague and he immediately interpreted that as I should rename the city and set up the worlds biggest eyesore. "Not me personally." Whoever he sent definitely just told him what he wanted to hear 'cause if they said anything else, they'd be beheaded.

"revealing a one-piece racing suit of Nemean Lion hide" Hey, it respawned! "Indy-Colt-500-Double-A Gladiatorial Championship" Four words or less. Any respectable sporting event should be named with four words or less. The only comprehensible words in that title were "Gladiatorial Championship." Try "Commodianapolis Gladiatorial Championship" or "National Gladiatorial Championship" or even "Ultimate Gladiatorial Championship" instead. Literally anything else.

"Three Formula One race cars" Oh, this is a car race. Huh. I was kinda hoping for superstrength ostriches.

Exotic animals, gladiators, race cars, reverb country music, and monstrous audience members in a football stadium... This is the sporting event equivalent of a crackfic. Even the name of the event... Commodus, you've made a real-life crackfic. What do you have to say for yourself? No, I don't want to hear it.

"I raced after her, the Throne of Mnemosyne" NO, he still has the chair on his back! "a new death haiku" Ayo the title! "Basketballs ex machina." Literally.

"[Meg] grabbed one's neck and swung onto its back" Hey, so they can at least hold a small human. "her plan: kill Commodus." Can they still be killed? Idk how far along the Triumviratees have come with the god-emperor thing. I'd hate for them to get so close to taking down 1/3 only to find out they don't have the necessary whatever-it-is-you-need-to-kill-a-god-emperor.

"Southbound Pachyderm." PACHYDERM (n.): a very large mammal with thick skin, especially an elephant, rhinoceros, or hippopotamus

"I smashed him in the face with my combat ukulele." So that's what the combat part is. It doubles as a club. Nice.

"a late-night road trip in search of vindaloo" VINDALOO (n.): a highly spiced hot Indian curry You could probably find that at a restaurant, but I guess regular old mortal vindaloo isn't going to do it for you gods, huh? Istg Apollo goes on journeys in search of the most ridiculous things you could probably get to with a fifteen-minute car ride.

"Can you save him before he bursts into flames?" So we know it's not Leo.

"the karpos Peaches." NOOOO PEACHES IS GOING TO BURST INTO FLAMESSSSSSSS pls save him

[fruit-of-infidelity]

(TW stalking) Inspired by the Valentine’s Day prompt when Ryuuto gets rejected. Can you please write a scenario (or a headcanon) for stalking-yandere Ryuuto. If a scenario, could it end that Ryuuto takes what he wants (e.g., kidnap the girl and imprisons her in the manor or something similar…)

// Ohoho, sure thing!（ o ｀▽´ )oΨ It gets a little, uh, creepy + suggestive toward the end. So be warned!

Tap. Tap... Tap.

Ryuuto's nails pattered gently against his bedroom desk. There he sat brooding, waiting. Once his familiars reported back to him on where that girl was, her condition, he would go. Like a typical teenager, he planned on sneaking out through his bedroom window.

After all, if Richter caught him... If he told Cordelia, heーー

Furrowed brows lifted, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. How silly of him, he scolded. For him to still be worrying about that... He supposed paranoia had really eaten away at him since the last time he had been caught out. But what on earth could his Mother do now, to punish him? To shame him? To guilt him?

...His Father was what worried him more.

As quickly as his familiars had informed him of that human's departure from her house, he had disappeared into the night. Their own mistake, really, to be wandering at this hour. Someone would have snatched her if he hadn't... He was sure of it.

"Wh-What!?"

Shh, shh, shh..."

Ryuuto was quick to silence the girl, springing himself upon her. With as large a hand as his over her nose and mouth like this, she easily fell unconscious in his arms. As savage as it made him feel ー almost like those younger siblings of his ー it made transporting her far easier.

By the time she came to she was confined. Not physically, by chains to his bed she was upon, but by the walls of Ryuuto's room. Doors locked, curtains drawn. Naturally, she was confused.

Mind muddled, throat dry...

Vocalising this as much as she could, begging to nothing but ー seemingly ー darkness to tell her where she was... She felt the mattress dip, and a pair of chillingly familiar green eyes met hers.

"You poor thing," His own voice was unusually shaky. "Listen to that dryness in your voice. Drink..."

A glass was presented before her. It's contents were thick... red, or perhaps white? She couldn't tell. That was enough, though, for her to hesitantly deny his offer. Rejected by her, once again.

"...Drink."

This time, any uncertainty to his tone had disappeared. It was clearly an order. By the time she caught his gaze again, he had already brought the glass to he lips on her behalf. Then, he begun to tip it.

"R-Ryuu... W-Waiー"

That warm, thick liquid met with her lips... and trickled onto her tongue as she was silenced mid-sentence. As her hands thrusted out to knock the glass from his hands, and to keep some sort of distance between her and her capture, drowsiness suddenly took hold.

"Sleep for now, beloved... There are still some things I must tend to, before I can let you roam our house freely."

[ariiiloves]

OH

The cliffhangERRRRRR

Lord, now I gotta know what's she cooking

Apothecary - Chapter Two

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

everyone's got something to say about her, and Joel doesn't know what to make of it. when he returns the favor he owes her, he tries to get some answers up in the mountains and away from the wagging tongues of Jackson.

warnings | 18+ angst, mentions of death, spooky-ooky vibes, people being superstitious dickheads

a/n | thank you all for the love on the first part of this series! i just got so excited i couldn't help but write the second part :) keep letting me know what you think, my inbox is always open and i love to hear from you!

.................................

“My son had a cough since he was two years old. She cured it with whatever she keeps bubbling on that stove of hers.”

“I had a rash that just wouldn’t go away. She gave me a balm that cleared it right up. A godsend, really.”

“Wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t nursed me back to health with all those herbs and plants she tends to.” 

“She talks to animals. Calmed a bucking colt with a whisper– I saw it myself!”

“I heard that infected don’t even notice her. Just walk right past her. That ain’t human, if you ask me.”

“That cat of hers spies on people and brings all their secrets back to her. You can’t tell me that’s a normal cat, not with the way it stares at folks.”

“Some of the women say they’ve seen her out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in her backyard whenever it’s a full moon.”

“I don’t know about dancing naked, but I have seen some strange lights coming from her shop on my way home from the Tipsy Bison. Lord knows what she gets up to in there.”

“She curses men. Lures them up into the mountains and puts them under her spell. But they always end up dead.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail. It ain’t a coincidence that any man that crosses paths with her seems to wind up with one really unlucky patrol shift. Luck’s got nothing to do with it, lemme tell you.” 

Even though Tommy told him to forget about it, Joel’s been doing a bit of recon, asking people around town about her, and every new anecdote only further confuses him. It seems like everyone’s got some sort of opinion about the resident witch.

It has shocked him, really, how openly folks call her that. Even the ones that speak highly of her. He had asked Ellie about what she had heard one day after she came home from her classes at the community school. She had shrugged, a knowing grin on her face

“Well, she sure helped me out, old man. But yeah, my friends say their moms call her a lot worse names than witch. Personally, I think it’s fucking cool. D’you think she can fly around on a broom like in the movies?” Joel had not been particularly amused by that question.

He’s not sure what to make of any of it. Some people call her a saint. Others call her the devil incarnate. But there does seem to be a general consensus that any man that sets her in his sights is doomed to meet a timely demise.

It’s been two weeks since he saw her at the town market, and he hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her since. According to Maria, she’s been busy with a flare-up of some sort of stomach bug in the community, making house calls and – Joel supposes – working her magic. 

He can’t figure out why he even cares. After all, he’s only met the woman once. But he can’t seem to shake her out of his thoughts, replaying their meeting over and over in his head, particularly the moment she had said Sarah’s name with such certainty.

He finds himself rolling all this over in his mind most nights, sitting out on his front porch as the summer sun turns to thick liquid over the mountains. It’s in such a position that he finally sees her again, approaching his house with a tired smile on her face.

“Hey there, stranger.” She walks up the first step to his porch, leaning against the wooden beam as she speaks. He can’t help the way his eyes trail over her, a pair of coveralls like the kind mechanics used to wear pulled distractingly taut around the swell of her hips and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, the tops of jars and bottles peeking out of it. When his eyes finally slip back up to her face, the quirk of her eyebrows lets him know that she totally clocked him checking her out, and he has to clear his throat, swallowing his embarrassment before he responds.

“Um, hey– hi. I, uh, haven’t seen you around lately.” She tilts her head at him, smile simmering down to a crooked smirk.

“I’ve been a little busy with all the– y’know, vomiting and diarrhea around town. But I think folks are finally out of the woods now.” Joel has to wonder to himself how she can still manage to look pretty while talking about vomiting and diarrhea.

“How exactly do you help– with that?” Her smile broadens.

“For the stuff coming out the top end, peppermint oil mostly. Ginger is king, but I’ve only got so much of it cultivating at the shop. For the problem down below, you just gotta push fluids and tell them it’ll pass.” 

“Can I ask– how do you know this stuff?” 

“Most of what I know comes from my mom. She was a lady of the plants, knew just about everything about anything that grows.” Fondness laces through her words, a soft smile as she tells him this, and he finds himself mirroring her expression.

“Lady of the plants– that’s a new one to me.” 

“Well, it’s better than witch, right?” Joel’s smile falls, but she just laughs.

“So I take it you’ve heard the rumors about me?” He’s not sure how to respond, a thickness settling in his throat and ice prickling the back of his neck. His voice comes out a bit hoarse when he does finally answer.

“Heard a lot of things about you. Not really sure what to believe though.” Her smile screws up at that, eyes crinkling as she looks at him.

“Why don’t you just ask me what you’re wondering then? Get it straight from the source.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the unbuttoned snaps of her coveralls splaying open to reveal the edge of a white tank-top, the suggestion of cleavage drawing Joel’s eyes before he can help it. He swallows hard, eyes darting back up to hers.

“Is it– I mean– are you?”

“Am I what?” She wants to hear him say it, he can tell by the ghosting curve of her lips. The word feels silly coming out of his mouth.

“Are you a– a witch?” Her smile goes practically radioactive at that, big and bright as she throws her head back in a laugh. She looks back at him, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah, certified. Got the black cat to prove it and everything.” As if on cue, Stevie jumps up onto the railing of the porch, making Joel jump in his seat. She stifles a giggle behind her hand, Stevie nuzzling against her arm that’s wrapped around the porch beam. Joel huffs.

“Look, it seems like everyone’s got something to say about you. But I’m not the kind of guy to buy into a bunch of bullshit rumors.” She hums at that.

“Oh, no? What kind of guy are you then, Joel?” 

“The kind that likes to work things out for himself.” 

“Is that what this is? You working me out?” 

“Sure am trying to.” She sucks her teeth, squinting at him.

“And?” Joel sighs.

“And– I’m thinking it’s gonna take me a while to reach any kind of conclusion.” She nods lightly at that, smiling at Stevie as scratches under the cat’s chin.

“Hmm, alright. You let me know when you reach your conclusion then.” A thick blink of silence falls between them, and Joel finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers, only breaking when she lets out a sigh.

“I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time. Was actually hoping to cash in on that favor you owe me.” He sits up a little straighter at that, nodding.

“Alright, when did you wanna go out– I mean– not– go out– like– not like a–” She laughs, silencing his floundering. 

“I know what you meant. And I was thinking the end of this week? Do you have time on Friday?” 

“Uh-huh, yep. That’s my day off.” Her face falls.

“Oh, I don’t wanna take up your day off, I’m–”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help, really.” Her frown softens into a suggestion of a smile, and she nods.

“Well, alright. Thank you, Joel. You good to meet at the gates that morning?” 

“I’ll be there, darlin. Sounds like a plan.” She grins.

“Until then, Joel.” She turns, hopping down from the porch step, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna curse you. Not yet at least.” It’s so unexpected, he ends up choking on an inhale, but his coughing doesn’t drown out the sound of her laugh as she slinks away from his house. He’s so busy watching her saunter off that he doesn’t notice the cat jumping down from the railing, startling him when she starts twining between his legs. Stevie looks up at him, yellow eyes unblinking, as if she’s expecting something from him. He tentatively leans forward, holding out his open hand which the cat sniffs at before nudging her head into his palm, a low purr vibrating through her body. 

“You gonna go tell her all my secrets, Stevie?” The cat looks up at him, head tilted. A little too human-like for Joel’s taste. She lets out a small mrrp, before going back to twining between his legs, sleek spine arching up into Joel’s hand. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she pads off down the steps of his porch and out into the night. 

…

“Rumor has it you’re helping a certain lady out with some work up in the mountains tomorrow.” Joel huffs at his brother’s cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk.  He takes a sharp swig of his drink before responding.

“Owe her a favor, that's all. And before you tell me I’m not gonna come back alive, I’ve already heard that from four other people this week.” That gets a laugh out of Tommy, his eyes glancing around the bar before focusing back on Joel. 

“Nah, you’ll come back alive. It’s the days after when they always end up dead.” 

“You serious?” Tommy shrugs.

“There’s been a couple of guys, sure. But if you ask me, that has more to do with the stories people believe than it does with her. What we believe, we create, brother. The mind is a powerful thing.” He punctuates his words with a tap of his fingers to his temple. Joel grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, wise ass. But you’re telling me there really have been men who’ve–”

“It’s all coincidence, Joel. Like I said, there have been a few guys who started chasing after her. Went up into the mountains with her, y’know, all romantic and shit. And then, well, it seems like every time, only a few days later, they wound up dead. But in every instance, it was a bad patrol shift that got them. S’just coincidence that it happened after they got with her.”

“How many coincidences?” Tommy sighs.

“Four. In the last four years or so.” Joel feels his brows lift at that.

“That’s a lot of fucking coincidences, Tommy.” Tommy shrugs.

“Look, folks always talk about how horrible it is that all these men died. And it is. But no one thinks to mention what that must have done to her. To like someone? Hell, maybe even love someone? And then not only have them taken away from you, but to then be blamed for it too? It’s fucking atrocious, man.” When Tommy finishes speaking, silence falls between them, Joel a bit stunned by the clear compassion Tommy speaks with about her.

“Why d’you even care? Why not join the crowd, huh?” Tommy frowns at that, twirling his liquor in his glass rather than looking at his brother.

“I didn’t tell you this– I mean, why would I? But, Maria had a pretty difficult pregnancy.” He takes a sharp inhale before continuing to speak.

“We weren’t sure if– if the baby– if we were gonna be ok. And she was there for us, through it all.” Joel can see the tears pooling in his brother’s eyes, glinting in the low light of the bar when he finally looks at him.

“I don’t know if we’d have our boy today if it hadn’t been for her. So yeah, I care about her. And I’ll side with her every time. And most folks will too, when push comes to shove. She’s done a lot for this community. But it’s easy to spread poison behind people’s backs. So that’s what they do.” Tommy sits back on his stool, sighing deeply.

“Suppose a lot of the men see her as a challenge, y’know? Steal a cursed kiss and live to tell the tale, or some bullshit like that. And the women see the men pining after her, and they don’t like that one bit. Either way, they talk, way more than they should.” Tommy throws back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn. Joel, meanwhile, is still trying to process everything his brother just told him.

“So should I tell the kid to start planning my funeral, or what?” Tommy laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’re too much of a stubborn ass to let a rinky-dink curse sway you. Besides, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Joel squints at his brother.

“Why’s that?” 

“You said you’re just doing a favor for her. She might not even like you enough to curse you, brother.”

…

Joel doesn’t sleep at all that night. His mind works over what Tommy told him again and again, trying to reach some sort of conclusion about everything he’s learned, and coming up short every time. He shuffles out in the early morning light, eyes bleary as he nears the gate. She, however, is chipper as anything, smiling broadly when she sees him.

“Hey there, you ready to go?” He nods, grumbling out a quiet affirmation, and then they’re off.

Most of the morning is spent in silence, hiking up into the mountains. Joel knows that it’s not infected they have to worry about, not out here. But raiders are a whole other story, so he keeps a steady hand on his rifle slung over his shoulder, letting her lead them a few paces ahead of him. 

“You’re quiet this morning.” She glances at him over her shoulder as she speaks, eyebrow lifted.

“I’m thinking.” 

“About?” He huffs, stopping where he stands in the underbrush of the woods. When she realizes he’s no longer following, she turns back around, hands on her hips as she looks at him.

“I just– I wish you’d give me some straight answers here. I’ve heard something different about you from just about everyone in town– and I’m not sure if I believe any of it. Just– please.” Her brow is furrowed, eyes squinted at him as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“What do you want from me, Joel?” He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the thick trees before looking back at her.

“The truth– I want the truth.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” He has to laugh out of frustration at this little game they’re playing, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a low curse before focusing back on her.

“Alright, I’ll be specific. All those men that died. A lot of folks around town are convinced that you had something to do with it. S’that true?” When she speaks, Joel’s taken aback by her tone, her usual lightness replaced by a steeled stoicism.

“I had nothing to do with that. Any of it. The only curse that was on those men was their own goddamn minds buying into the town bullshit.” He’s inclined to believe her, judging by her unwavering gaze and the sure tilt of her chin as she speaks, but there’s still more that he needs to know.

“But you are– different. Aren’t you?” That coaxes a smile out of her, and she steps a bit closer to him.

“Different.” She says the word like a challenge, and he nods, taking his own steps closer to her.

“Is that your conclusion, Joel?” Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests, and they now stand so close that their forearms lightly brush.

“Starting to think I ain’t ever gonna reach a conclusion about you, darlin.” Her eyes crinkle, smile threatening to crook into a full-blown grin.

“Would that be such a bad thing? No conclusion?” It’s like magnets, the way their faces tilt, subtle shifts toward one another until he can feel the light air of her exhale across his mouth. He hums, a low sound in his chest.

“I think I’ll live.” He can practically feel the stretch of her grin at his words.

“I think you will too.” It happens as easily as a tide rolling in, languid in the way their lips slip together. His hands find the sweep of her jaw, pulling her in deeper, her palms splaying over his chest. He’s a little surprised when she swipes her tongue over the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing him open and tangling even closer with him. A woman has never taken charge like this with him, and it’s making his head spin. When she does pull away, he’s only a little embarrassed by the way he chases after her lips, stuttering into some sort of composure when she grins at him.

“For the record, you’re not wrong.” Not entirely sure what she means, he frowns at her, shaking his head. She laughs.

“I am different, Joel.”

“That wasn’t just a lucky guess, was it? About– about Sarah?” Her eyes soften, features dropping into a sad understanding. She slides her palms up from his chest to twine behind his neck. 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

…

“This is lemon balm.” She glances over her shoulder at him from where she’s crouched down, thumbing at a cropping of large, waxy leaves. He’s learned the names of more plants today than he could ever remember, though he still nods when she shows him a new one like he has any clue what it is.

“What do you use that for?” 

“You dry it, and then you can brew tea with it. It’s calming– helps with sleep and stress. Or you can mix it into salve to treat cold sores. Though not many people in Jackson come to me with that problem.” She clips several leaves from the plant, carefully tucking them into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she stands back up. 

They’ve been out all day, moving through the woods as she collects various plant snippings, explaining each one to him, how to use it and what its use is. And between them, a silent understanding has settled, even though Joel hasn’t asked anymore questions about her. But he knows that Tommy was right. Whatever she is, she’s a good one.

“We oughta head back soon. Sun’s starting to set.” She nods, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, and they easily step into stride with one another. They spend most of the hike back in a comfortable silence. Joel finds himself wanting to say something, ask something more, but always hesitating, mind hazy from the heat of the day, and from the stamped memory of the kiss they shared. Even if it was cursed, he reckons that he wouldn’t mind that.

“Joel? I want to say thank you.” He glances at her walking alongside him, the quick-fading light casting syrupy shadows across her features. He has to blink a few times to keep himself from staring.

“No need for thanks. I was happy to repay the favor.” 

“No, that’s– that’s not what I meant. I mean– thank you for coming out today with me, I appreciate it. But– I wanted to thank you for– thinking for yourself– about me.” That makes him stop in his stride, turning to fully look at her as she does the same. They’ve just crested a hill, the gates of Jackson coming into view, and her eyes keep glancing back toward it, a nervous crease between her brows.

“It’s just– you’re right– I know everyone has something to say about me. And I guess I don’t have too many friends because of it. Most folks make up their minds about me before they even talk to me. So, thank you– for not doing that.” His chest twists at her words, the worried look scrunched across her face. He’d like to take the pain away that’s clear in her expression. And then, that tightness in his chest grows for a different reason, as he realizes that he’s already in far too deep with her. He has to clear his throat to shake away the thickening feeling, tentatively reaching his hand out to her, his fingers skating over the faint dip of her collarbone. He can see her breath catch at his touch, and he revels in it, letting his hand trail down her arm until their fingers are tangling together.

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that. Whatever may or may not be true about you– no one deserves that. I just– why do you help them– when they treat you the way they do?” She sighs, squeezing his hand in hers, and giving a weak shrug of her shoulders.

“Because it’s what I’m good at. I always wanted to help people– and that’s what I get to do. Even if some of them are fucking dicks about it.” Her crassness catches him off guard, pulling a stuttering laugh from his chest as she grins. But she’s all seriousness again, clearing her throat, her brow pulling down.

“Suppose I should warn you now that they’ll talk about you too– if you stick around me. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want–” He’s heard enough, and does something entirely too bold by closing the distance between them to steal another kiss, her wide eyes meeting his when he pulls away.

“Don’t care what any of ‘em have to say about me, or about you. They can talk all they want, darlin.” He can feel the relief in her sigh. She nods, giving his hand one final squeeze before breaking away, continuing the walk back to town. 

When they get back inside the gates, she offers him a small smile, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her pack.

“Thank you again. I really appreciated your help.” 

“Like I said, it was no–”

“Well, well, well– what do we have here? Looks like she’s got Miller under her spell, boys!” The change in her demeanor is instant, face scrunching up as they both turn to see where the commentary is coming from. Joel recognizes the man, Mason, if he remembers right, and a small group of other guys he knows from past patrol meetings. They’ve all got a similar sneer across their faces, eyes zeroed in on her, and he has to fight the urge to step in front of her to get them to stop looking at her like that.

“Guess we better get another coffin ready, huh? Hate to break it to you, Miller. She may be pretty, but she ain’t nothing but bad news.” Joel’s fists clench at his sides, and as the men break into another howl of laughter, his feet start moving toward them before his brain can catch up. But she’s quick to step in front of him, hands pressing into his chest and eyes fierce.

“Don’t– it’s not worth it.” It’s immediate, the calm that washes over him with her words, though he still glares over her shoulder at the men, whose laughter has only escalated.

“Awww, she got you good, man! Hey, witchy-poo! What kinda magic you got working on Miller to have him so whipped?” And with that, Joel is ready to bash their heads in all over again, though she holds him back with her palms firm against the front of his shirt. 

“Joel, it’s fine. They’re harmless, really.” He glances at the men one more time before finally focusing back on her, huffing as he nods. She gives him what she can of a smile, worry still pressed between her brows. 

“I’ll see you soon, ok?” His hands flex at his sides, wanting more than anything to tuck her under his arm and walk off together, but he settles for another nod, and a whispered acquiescence. She’s gone in a blink, walking off to the hollering of the men behind her. Before he can do something stupid, Joel heads off in the opposite direction toward the Tipsy Bison. He needs a fucking drink.

…

Joel is nursing his second tumbler of whiskey when just about the last person he’d like to see sidles up next to him at the bar. 

“Miller.” Mason sits down on the stool next to him, but Joel keeps his eyes on his swirling glass. 

“Look, man, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time out there. But I’m trying to help you out.” Joel rests his elbows on the bar, glancing briefly at Mason.

“Don’t remember asking for your help, man.” Mason laughs, turning on his stool to fully face Joel, a stupid grin across his face.

“Well then you don’t know her as well as we all do. I meant what I said, y’know. She’s bad news.” Joel’s starting to feel that anger creeping up his throat, angling himself just slightly in Mason’s direction to get a good look at him.

“Son, I’ve heard enough stories this week to have a pretty good idea of just how full of shit you all are. I thought this was a community of decent people, really. But after being told one too many times about some ridiculous curse, I realize you’re nothing but fools and cowards.” Mason laughs again, and Joel’s a blink away from slapping the sound right out of his mouth. 

“I’m not talking about that bullshit curse.” Joel squints at him.

“Come again?” 

“That curse you’re referring to? I agree with you that it’s town nonsense. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” When Joel stays silent, Mason’s mouth stretches into a smile.

“She may not be sending men to their graves, but she ain’t so innocent either. See, she likes to meddle.”

“Meddle?” Mason nods.

“In other people’s business. Sure, she helps folks all the time. But that’s not all she’s doing in that shop of hers.” Joel huffs, getting tired of the way this man seems to be stringing him along.

“Talk plainly, son. It’s getting late.” Mason barks out a laugh, sliding off his stool before laying a hand on Joel’s shoulder, a squinted smile on his face.

“Why don’t you go see what she’s got cooking up in that kitchen of hers in the middle of the night. Because I can tell you right now, it ain’t fucking tea.”

[the-kipsabian]

Some angst in your bffnate: October is supposed to be Kit's one down month between Sept and Nov. Kit thinks they'll have some decently stress-free time when Nate starts acting up and they just. Freak. Or try not to. They make a real thing out of Mads birthday and Halloween preps to distract themself, trying not to concern everyone by hiding the fact that they're bringing up feathers multiple times a week. Bonus: Nate doesn't know why Kit brings up feathers-maybe hes not even heard of it before?

Bonus #2 for your bffnate angst: he hasn't been properly filled in on why Sept and Nov are so distressing.

angst? in my bffnate? its more likely than you think

like kit and nate have been buddies for a while before this, just being two emo enjoying friendos together, and like. nate has been kinda worried when they havent been hanging even nearly as much with kit during september. so when october hits, and kit seems to light up a little bit again, nate is so on board when kit brings up that ‘hey mads’ birthday is in a few days i wanna prep something’

and like nate helps them arrange a party and everything, and on the night of the party, is the first time natemare hits in their presence. like this isnt really a stress related thing for nate, it just happens randomly during november, and its like really unpredictable and nobody knows why or when to expect it. but now its happening at the most inopportune time at the party and nate is just. kinda making a mess and giving everyone hard time and just turning things upside down and kit doesnt know what the hell he is doing or why hes doing this and nate doesnt listen to them and hes just raising some hell with making a mess with the food and popping the balloons and did you just try to steal mads’ presents what are yOU DOING

and at one point nate just disappears from the party and stuff calms down but it still like. leaves a mark and kit is so stressed even tho mads is trying to tell them its alright he didnt break anything or do more than just make everyone really confused and maybe upset with something he said and whatnot, but kit is like. why. why did he do this he was almost as excited about this as i was nate why

confronting him the following morning doesnt help. nate doesnt remember anything. nobody knows whats up. kit might suspect that he secretly got drunk last night cause nate is irresponsible little nerd. but nothing is confirmed. it kinda gives a little strain on their friendship but ultimately since nate seems to get back to normal from that point forward again, kit kinda. forgives. not forgets, but forgives, at least for now

until he starts showing similar kind of behavior again the closer they get to halloween, and kit doesnt want to deal with this cause october is supposed to be a fun month between all this garbage and november is coming and they dont want to deal with it and now one of their best friends is making it really hard for them and they just. kind of break after natemare happens again at the halloween party

the following morning nate again claims not to know anything. kit is beyond frustrated. what is he doing. why is he doing this. and eventually after they have a heated enough argument about nate ruining the “only month around this time of the year they can feel happy and free” it all just. kind of comes out. with a pile of feathers that kit has been coughing out in secret all this time trying to deal with this boi and everything coming up in the following month. and so nate is brought in on these disaster months and kit having this whole stress feather problem and everything in between

and like nate is. a very understanding and loving friend but hes so fucking clueless and oblivious unless you straight up tell him these kind of things so he wasnt aware of kit’s struggles until now and he pulls them into a hug and apologizes so much for making things so much worse with everything..

..clearly implying that he knows at least something about this natemare thing, but hes not elaborating on that as kit doesnt ask

[lyrua]

ive spend my day - watching - for an ending - thats not there..

[stiltonbasket]

OMG I am loving qin su!wwx verse but I'm dying at the Burial Mounds cliffhangerrrrrr AHHHH but also all in your own time bc we respect boundaries =D

When Lan Qing and Lan Jueying left the Cloud Recesses earlier that morning, running away to Lanling to see their A-Die had seemed like a good idea.

“Something’s wrong, and no one will tell us what!” thirteen-year-old Jueying complained, packing an emergency qiankun bag. “Jiujiu never has time for us anymore, and A-Die and Father are being weird, and A-Die came back from the conference early, and then he came back, and then he left again! Where did he go? Jie, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. And we can’t even go to Gege for help,” Lan Qing muttered, because their xiongzhang left for a group hunt in Changlun just yesterday. “Hurry up, A-Ying. We need to get out of here before shugong comes back.”

Their journey to the Jinlintai went smoothly enough, since A-Qing and Jueying often travel there with their parents; but then they landed on Koi Tower’s main terrace, and that was where everything started to go wrong.

“You have to let us in,” Lan Jueying says haughtily, when the doorwardens try to make them turn back. “My parents are here, and I want to see them.”

The two Jin guards in front of them exchange uncomfortable looks. “Nie-zongzhu and Lan-zongzhu are not here,” one of them tries to say: because not even a Jin would dare cross a young mistress born to two major sect leaders, especially when one of them is Sect Leader Nie. “They have gone to the Burial Mounds.”

“Then where is Jin-zongzhu?” A-Qing asks, imitating the sharp tone her shugong always takes with misbehaving disciples. “He is our shushu, so now that we are here, we must not leave without paying our respects to him.”

“Jin-zongzhu is occupied.”

“Is he so busy that he would turn away his nieces?” Lan Jueying says, batting her eyelashes until the wardens glance at their feet. “We’re tired, you know! I wasn’t even strong enough to fly this far until last year!”

Eventually, the two Jin guards lead them inside, and Jueying asks to see Auntie Su.

“She’s--unavailable,” an attendant says through gritted teeth. “She was found to have been possessed by the Yiling Patriarch.”

A-Ying and A-Qing glance at each other. Their jiujiu brought a veiled woman home two months ago, and A-Ying originally mistook her for their Aunt Su: but the lady Jiujiu keeps spending time with is thinner than San-shushu’s wife, and sounds very different, and Jiujiu would have known immediately if someone within nine or ten feet of him was possessed or not.

But if that really was Aunt Su, then perhaps...

“Take us to Jin-zongzhu, please!” Jueying cries. “We think we know where she is!”

“Han-ge, she said--”

“But Jin-zongzhu--”

“He’d want to know about this!” the younger guard hisses. “Ge, take them to him!”

The older warden heaves a sigh and then gestures towards a corridor.

“Follow me,” he grumbles. “Jin-zongzhu told us not to say anything, but if you know where Jin-furen is, he’ll have time to see you.”

__

And that was how they ended up down in the Jinlintai’s dungeon, crying like babies in A-Die’s arms behind the bars of a prison cell when Jin-zongzhu strips them of their spiritual powers and confiscates their two precious swords before locking them away.

“What’s going to happen to us?” A-Ying gulps. “A-Die, what happened to Auntie Su? And why did San-shushu make you come here?”

“We didn’t mean to tell him that she might be at the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qingxia sobs. “I just thought--he sounded so worried, A-Die, but then he made someone take us down here, and we th-thought it was going to be a guest bedroom, and--”

“He said you were here to keep you safe!” wails Lan Jueying. “But he was lying, Jiejie said so! Is father coming to save us?”

“Don’t cry,” murmurs Lan Xichen, drying his daughters’ tearstained faces on his collar. Neither of them can tell how long he’s been trapped in the dungeons without his lingli, but it must have been at least a day and a half, or maybe two days, and his stomach keeps growling from hunger because he won’t eat anything Jin-zongzhu sends him. “A-Die knows a way to get you both somewhere safe, all right? You must be very still while I work, and hold on to your sister as tight as you can.”

Jueying nods and wraps her little body around Lan Qing’s. “Like this?”

“That’s right,” he soothes, kissing the silver cloud ornament over Lan Qing’s forehead and the tip of A-Ying’s button nose. “When you get there, tell the first person you find what happened, and that your baba went to Luanzung Gang with Huaisang and all the other cultivators who were at the conference.”

“Where are we going?” A-Ying asks, so quietly that A-Qing can scarcely hear her. “A-Die?”

Lan Xichen shakes his head and points upward, reminding them that anyone could be listening, so Jueying and A-Qing cling to him for a few more seconds before standing back to give their father room to work.

But instead of reaching into his locked jindan for power, Lan Xichen tears past the bounds of his lower dantian for something deeper than spiritual energy, and then the dank dungeon melts away into nothingness around them--taking Lan Xichen’s body with it, just as the pale front of his gown paints itself crimson with the blood dripping from his qiqiao.

“I love you, qian jin,” Lan Xichen gasps, whipping his head in the direction of the footsteps coming down the stairs. “Tell your father that I--”

Lan Jueying screams.

“A-Die!” she howls, as Lan Qingxia grips her sister’s waist for dear life. “Diedie, no!”

But no one answers, and when Lan Qing finally opens her eyes, she finds herself standing in their fuqin’s bedroom with Jueying sobbing in her arms.