#Flash Fiction Festival

[suzannahnatters]

Flash Fic: The Gardens of Hades

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

He snatches me from the sunlit lands and carries me to the underworld, a dark chasm lit only by the distant flames of Tartarus. His house is of black marble, and as he drags me through the shadowed halls, I try to empty my mind of everything but this moment.

I know the stories. I know that the gods have cruel desires.

Instead, he opens the door to a walled garden. A black pool glitters at the centre. Naked sticks rattle in the earth, but nothing lives here.

“This is yours, Lady Persephone,” he says.

Then he leaves.

.

I’m just glad Hades leaves me alone, so I don’t ask questions. I infuse the pool with light and call grass and asphodel from the dead soil.

When he visits again, he comes with a gift.

“I have brought you a servant.” A veiled shade follows him into the garden.

I wonder if he wants me to thank him for giving me a slave when I once had friends, a desert when I once had flowers.

I wonder why he took me.

Hades inspects a young shrub. “What’s this?”

“A pomegranate,” I say.

For a moment, I think he’s going to speak. Then he swallows the impulse and leaves.

.

On the day my pomegranate tree blooms, I find the shade sitting beneath the tree wiping her eyes with her veil. She says her first word: Springtime.

Little by little, she remembers how to speak. She talks about finishing this garden and moving on, the underworld blooming under my touch.

She doesn’t remember her name, so I call her Lethe.

.

My pomegranate tree bears fruit, but as I peel it open Lethe grabs my wrist. “If you eat, you will become a creature of his realm.”

I hurl the fruit at the wall.

.

It’s only a matter of time till my mother finds me.

Hades keeps sending gifts: servants, seeds, pruning-hooks and shovels. As the garden fills with life, so do the shades. The third time he visits, he dismisses the servants and looks at me with tired eyes. I wonder if he is always this sad.

“Your mother grieves without hope. Crops and men die, and no one sacrifices to the gods.” He sighs. “I am to send you back.”

Back to the home he took from me. Back to mother and wind and sunlight, but first I have one question.

“Why did you take me?” I spit.

He is the lord of the dead. He cannot sugar his words, as other gods might. “I need you,” he admits.

I think of Lethe, and to my surprise, I understand. I am springtime, but he is pain. No wonder the dead suffer, if that is all he can give them.

Before he can stop me, I rip open a pomegranate, and the juice is sour on my tongue.

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

But where I tread, they bloom. ---- I wrote this flash fic for the Pilgrim Artists' Festival, a small Christian festival of art, music, and words which runs every year in Tasmania's Huon Valley. The theme for the 2019 festival was "Grief and Hope", and I at once thought of Dorothy Sayers' poem, Rex Doloris, which imagines Hades as the King of Grief. This is the 500-word short story that resulted. I'd been looking for a way of retelling the story for nearly as long as I can remember, and this ficlet is the first step in that process. I can promise you that it won't be the last.

The 2023 Pilgrim Artists' Festival is now open for submissions of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, art, and music from Christian, Nicene-Creed-affirming artists, including children and adults, anywhere in the world. This year's prompt is "Beauty in the Everyday" and there is a 500 word limit on literary entries. There are also dozens of prizes available - check them out and submit here.

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

🕯️ Cozy Halloween Flash Fiction Prompt #2 🕯️

“Wish Lantern Festival”

‘It’s the night of the Wish Lantern Festival, and each glowing lantern you release into the sky is said to grant a wish. You and your partner are here for the magic, but the lanterns aren’t just granting any wish—they’re guiding you toward a series of challenges.’

🍂 Cozy Vibes:

Lantern-lit skies, soft whispers of the night, and an enchanted festival where every wish comes with a challenge.

🎃 Story Twist:

Sometimes, the journey to your wish holds more magic than the wish itself.

[ce-ayr-blog]

Harbour Lights - Unicorn Challenge

Copyright Ayr/Gray The Unicorn Challenge. A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.The rules are:Maximum of 250 words.Based on photo prompt.That’s it.To hear me read my story, just click…

[aerynwrites]

Emeralds

Dammon x GN!Reader

A/N: yet another fictional character has invaded my brain lmao. So here’s a little fluffy piece I wrote for Dammon by I love him and wish I could romance him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Love confessions, fluff, so much fluff, kissing, drinking (neither of them are drunk tho), required love.

Part 2

The party is in full swing, the tieflings having brought the wine and the music and so much more to your camp this evening. 

You watch from the sidelines as your companions enjoy the evening in different ways. Shadowheart and Astarion have been keeping to themselves despite your encouragement to participate. Karlach and Wyll are dancing and laughing by the fire, and even Gale is letting loose for once - showing off some small magic tricks to a group of tieflings. 

You’d talked to Halsin and Zevlor, both of them thanking you before wandering off to talk to other or take part in the festivities themselves. Leaving you to your own devices. 

Which…isn’t much at the moment. 

While you enjoy watching the others, you can’t help but search the small crowds for a particular blacksmith. 

You’d met Dammon when you arrived at the grove, and you’re slightly ashamed to admit that you developed a crush on the man from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He’s handsome and kind to boot, going out of his way to help Karlach when so many other things were going on for him and his people. He even promised to help again in the future if he was able. 

How could you not pine after him? 

Your feelings had led you to spend more time than necessary at the grove, claiming to need so trade supplies or talk to someone or another just to see or talk with Dammon while you were there. Your companions got so tired of it you had to start slipping away on your own, not that you minded. 

Dammon always seems happy to see you, talking to you about anything and everything. Just a few days ago he mentioned he was working on something special for you, insisting it was a surprise when you pressed him for more details. 

You’d hoped to see him here at camp with the rest of the refugees, but as the night wears on, your hope dwindles. 

Perhaps he had so much work preparing for their departure to step away from his forge. It’s a reason you’d understand, but the pang of disappointment doesn’t hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up looking, when you finally spot a flash of a familiar green scarf among the milling bodies. 

Dammon makes his way through the camp, nodding in greeting to those he passes before he finally looks to you, eyes shining as his lips tilt upwards. 

He offers you a small wave as he makes his way towards you and you return the gesture, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks as he approaches. 

“Hi,” you offer simply, now lost for words that he’s standing before you. 

Dammon smiles, “Hello,” he says, turning to face the party in front of you both. “I was worried I wasn’t going to make it in time.” 

“I have to admit,” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “I was looking for you,” you tell him, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see you.” 

Dammon turns to look at you again, brows raised in slight surprise. “You were looking for me?” 

Your eyes fall to the ground, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Yes I…” you trail off for a moment before turning to look at him again, changing the subject instead. “What kept you so late at the forge?” 

Dammon studies you for a moment, as if judging your demeanor before his eyes leave yours as his hand falls to the small pack at his side. 

“I was finishing up your gift,” he tells you, patting the bag. “Couldn’t let myself leave without giving it to you.” 

At the mention of you both parting ways soon, you feel yourself deflate slightly. But before you can let disappointment take over what’s supposed to be a night of celebration, you jab a thumb over towards the far end of camp. 

“How about a toast to go along with the surprise?” You ask, silently hoping your proposition doesn’t come off as odd. “I have some wine back at my tent, admittedly a little better than what’s been provided…” 

Dammon laughs at that, lips pulled back into a grin. “I will have to admit my brothers and sisters are not known for their wine making…” he gestures towards you. “Lead the way.” 

Your tent is on the edge of camp, further away from the others and thus away from the center of the celebration. You can still hear the music and raucous laughter, but it’s slightly muted by the distance. 

You retrieve the wine and two cups from inside your tent before taking a seat on one of the pillows laying near the entrance, inviting Dammon to do the same. 

“Sit,” you gesture to a pillow near your own, “I’m sure you’ve been on your feet all day, if I know anything about you.”

Dammon huffs out a chuckle as he nods, setting his bag on the ground beside him before he takes a seat next to you. “Then you know me well,” he affirms, “The work never stops it seems.” 

You try to ignore how close he is as you pour two glasses of rich red wine and hand one to him before taking a sip of your own. “Hm…Yet here you are. Can a gift be so important to take you from your work?” 

You watch as Dammon flushes, his cheeks turning just a few shades darker as he stares into his wine glass. 

“This one is,” He says simply, before looking up to you. “It’s for you.”

His words are so simple, so plain, yet you can hear the sincerity in them. For a moment you’re worried you’re hearing what you want to hear, seeing what you want to see. But Dammon interrupts your thoughts as he sets his glass down carefully to reach into his bag. 

He produces a small long object wrapped in cloth and tied shut. Dammon starts to speak as he unties the string. 

“I don’t know if it’s your preferred weapon,” he says, pulling at the edges of the cloth. “But the idea came to me and I couldn’t stop until it was completed.” 

He fully unwraps the item to reveal a beautifully ornamented dagger. It’s handle is wrapped in fine dark leather, the blade sparkling dangerously in the moonlight. 

The parts of the pommel visible outside the leather are inlaid with small green stones. You reach out to touch them, but pause glancing up at the blacksmith in question. 

He smiles, nodding. “Please, it’s yours after all.” 

You take the dagger from his open hands, surprised to find that it fits perfectly in your hand. The grip isn’t too large or too small. It isn’t too long or short. It fits your hand down to the very last detail. The leather is soft in your palm, well worn but sturdy. You test the blade in your hand flipping it in the air before catching it easily once more. It’s perfectly balanced as well. 

Your eyes fall back to the precious green stones in the handle running your fingers over them to find them smooth beneath your calloused digits. 

“Emeralds,” Damon says softly. “I chose them mainly because they added to the blade's appearance but I remember my grandmother once told me they represent strength, balance and…” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “It’s not important. I hope it’s to your liking.” 

You gaze at him, your mind searching for any knowledge you may have of gemstones, when a memory snaps into place. A passage from a book your mother read to you in a jewelry shop. 

“Look little love,” she said, finger tracing over lines of text in a thick book by the checkout counter. “It tells you of all the gems' meanings.”

She read off a few - sapphires for leadership and royalty, bloodstone for revitalization, jade for success and-

“Oh…look at Emerald!” She said happily. “‘Known as the stone of successful and abundant love, Emeralds open the heart to receive love in all aspects of life. They are thought to encourage you to give and receive love..” your mother awes, “That’s sweet.”

The memory leaves as quickly as it came, and you glance immediately up at Dammon, taking note of the hopeful look he gives you. As if you could ever be disappointed in anything he gave you. 

You swallow around the swell of emotion in your throat, once again trying to shove down the bubble of hope in your chest as you nod. Looking down to the blade in your hand, thumbing the emeralds once more. 

“It’s perfect, Dammon. It’s beautiful, I-“ you shake your head looking up to him again. “I can’t let you just give this to me. This probably cost a fortune in materials-“

Dammon holds a hand up to cut you off, giving his head a firm shake. “It’s a gift. For everything you’ve done for me - for us.”

It’s only now you fully notice how close your are to one another. Dammon’s leg brushes your own, his shoulder bumping yours. And each time he looks over at you, the faint sweetness of the wine on his breath brushes your cheek. 

Once again your eyes fall down to the dagger, fingers trailing over the emeralds as you finally reveal your own knowledge on the gems. 

“I remember a time when I was much younger,” you tell him, noticing he listens to you with rapt attention. “My mother took me shopping with her in the city and we went to this jewelry shop. We weren’t really looking to buy but she loved to look at all the jewels and gemstones.” You smile at the memory. “This particular jeweler had a book on display that listed all the names of the gems and what they mean and my mother read out about a dozen before landing on Emerald…” you trail off, catching the almost imperceptible hitch of breath in Dammon. 

“It said Emerald was also the stone of ‘successful and abundant love’,” you say, finally finding the courage to look back at Dammon, finding his eyes already on you. 

Your voice is a mere whisper now. “She said something about it opening the heart to give and receive love…” your words die on your tongue. “Was this truly only a gift of thanks?” You finally ask, hope burning so bright in your chest you have no chance of stamping it out now. 

Dammon’s bright blue eyes only leave yours to flick down to your lips, and the moment he captures your gaze again his lips are on yours. 

The kiss is a sweet, chaste thing, and you can sense his hesitance as he goes to pull away much too quickly. You manage to stop him as your free hand comes to rest on his shoulder pulling him closer as you return the kiss, telling him without words that you want this too.

Your heart soars when he responds in kind, turning so he’s facing you fully as his hands settle on your hips. You set the dagger down carefully in order to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid this might all be a dream if you don’t hold him close. 

He only pulls away when you both need to take a breath and even then you don’t go far. 

Dammon rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering open after a moment. 

“Should I be ashamed to admit I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you?” 

A small laugh escapes your lips and you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks. “No…because I feel the same way.” 

He practically beams at your words, eyes lighting up as a grin splits his lips. 

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?” 

You chuckle again. “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.” 

Dammon responds eagerly, capturing your lips once more as his arms wind sound at your waist. He raises up on his knees as he does so, pulling you to do the same and removing any space between your bodies as he kisses you with abandon. 

You smile into the kiss when you feel his tail curl to wrap around your waist, as if he can’t get close enough. 

Maybe you can’t either…because from this moment on  you never want to be away from him. 

You are the first to pull away this time, stroking the apple of his cheek gently as you press one last kiss to the corner of his lips. 

You move to sit back on your knees, noticing how Dammon watches you in quiet curiosity as you reach for the delicate silver chain around your neck. 

Your knowledge of gems isn’t the only thing you’d gotten in that jewelry shop all those years ago. 

You pull the necklace from where it hides beneath your shirt, revealing a simple silver pendant with a glittering emerald in the center of it. You lift the chain over your head and hold it out towards Dammon. 

He looks perplexed for a moment, before shaking his head. “You don’t have to give me something in return,” he says gently. “The dagger was a gift.” 

You smile and nod to the necklace still in your hands. “And so is this. Here-“ you say leaning towards him more, “let me.” 

Dammon finally acquiesces, eyes slipping closed as he ducks his head towards you. 

You reach up and slip the necklace over his head, mindful of his horns, and watch as the pendant settles just below his green scarf. Your lips turn upwards as you run your fingers over the smooth stone. 

“It even matches your scarf,” you say playfully, warmth filling your chest as Dammon reaches up to examine the necklace. 

You pick up the dagger he gave you, admiring it again as you speak. “Now we both have something of each other. No matter where we end up.” 

Dammon looks up at you then, eyes glittering with an emotion you can’t quite place, before he reaches out to take your hands in his own. 

“I'm sure we’ll see each other again,” he says, resolve clear in his words. 

And despite not knowing exactly where your journey will take you…

You have a feeling that he’s right.

[theemporium]

hi king!! could i get a uuuuhhh…

"I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

🩷 w/luke? xoxo

we tried something different with a wee historical fiction/prince au🤠they are not my forte but i wanted to try challenging myself. thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

.

Luke had always found the royal festivities to be tedious and long winded. 

Maybe it was because they very rarely focused on him, with most guests taking interest in his parents or his older brothers—Quinn especially, being next in line to the throne. Or maybe—just fucking maybe—he found them tedious and long winded and boring because they were. 

He wasn’t even sure what the reasoning behind this one was, if he was being completely honest. Though, there was never usually a good reason for many of the high class patrons of the kingdom to deny the chance to be invited into the castle or flaunt their pretty fabrics. But Luke had to assume this one was semi-important if people from neighbouring kingdoms—people of importance—were making the journey. 

Still, it did little to make him feel anything but utter boredom as he did his rounds. He flashed the guests a few smiles, usually letting Jack or Quinn take over the conversation. And once he had shown his face for a socially appropriate amount of time, he found himself sneaking off in the shadows to find something to occupy himself before his father’s expected speech. 

Usually, he would find himself sneaking into the kitchens to see if the staff would slip him a few desserts before dinner or some snacks to entertain him with. 

This time around, Luke didn’t even make it to the secret corridor that led down the kitchen before he was pressed against the wall, his breath knocked out of his lungs and something cold pressed against his neck.

“Shit,” you hissed, only your eyes visible to the boy as you glanced over his face. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through him that didn’t have him thinking straight. Maybe it was the excitement for something different to happen at this ball. 

Or maybe Luke just lacked common sense and self-preservation because the only response he managed after a random woman dressed in all black with a knife pressed against his throat was, “pick the wrong prince?” 

You blinked. “You matched the description.” 

“So…I was the right prince?” He asked, something akin to amusement in his voice and it threw you off.

“Do you have your life threatened often?” You questioned, partially rhetorical because a part of you was genuinely interested in the answer. “You seem very calm.” 

“I just assumed if you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already,” he replied honestly, making no move to try and escape your hold. He had a feeling you would bury that knife in him before he even got the chance to take a step.

“I could still kill you if you don’t listen to what I say,” you told him, and he knew better than to question how truthful you were with that promise. 

But still, Luke was young and sheltered and spent far too much of his time trapped in the castle, learning how to be a prim and proper gentleman. There was something thrilling about you and, for reasons his own brain couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t want to lose your attention just yet.

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he noticed your eyes widen slightly in response. 

“It’s like you have a death wish,” you grumbled, the edge of your blade digging a little further into his skin.

“So if I wasn’t your target, who was?” He asked casually, like you were two acquaintances catching up. Like there wasn’t the possibility of someone turning the corner and finding the two of you. Like there weren't guards already starting to notice his absence. 

“None of your business,” you snapped, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wondered if you were contemplating whether or not he was worth killing and adding the extra hassle for.

“It seems like my business when you have a blade to my throat,” Luke added cheekily. 

“You have no sense of survival,” you told him like it was an insult. 

He grinned. “Perks of being a prince, I assume.” 

“I don’t have time for this,” you grumbled and, in a blink of his eye, you were already three paces away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling in his chest the second you were no longer pressed against him, the second your eyes were no longer on him. “Will I see you again?” 

You paused, tilting your head to the side. He couldn’t see your mouth but he had the strongest sense that you were smirking beneath your mask. 

“Depends what kind of enemies you plan to make, Your Highness.”

.

[porcelainseashore]

VtM Secret Santa Writers 2024

IT'S ON!! We have enough interest to get this party started (last I counted was 73.9% out of 46 votes). A massive thank you to everyone!

This will be the first VtM Secret Santa event for all aspiring writers in our community—yes, I see you, and I hear you! In the spirit of giving, we will exchange pieces of writing of our favorite canon characters in the VtM universe, with reader-insert or not, and have some festive fun together.

Guidelines

Open to writers of ALL SKILL LEVELS!

No AI-generated content.

No hate speech, bigotry, or discrimination.

Word count between 500-2000. Short story, prose, flash fiction, and the like are accepted. If you want to submit something outside of this limit, i.e. poetry with less words, please DM me.

Friendly reminders will be sent out to complete your gift in time!

Timeline

Sign ups open from November 5th - 12th.

Secret Santas notified from November 13th - 14th.

Submit your gift by December 21st to porcelainseashore@gmail.com.

Gift delivery by your certified elf (me!) from December 22nd - 23rd.

Feel free to post the pieces you have written on your socials from December 24th onwards. You can use the tag #vtm secret santa writers 2024 or tag me and I’ll reblog your works!

Sign ups

>> SIGN UP SHEET LINK <<

Here, you can choose which VtM canon characters you are willing to write for and open to receive writings of, as well as other important info!

Secret Santas will be matched with their respective giftees according to the responses and randomized as much as possible.

If you have any questions or concerns, you can reach out to me via DM or email at porcelainseashore@gmail.com.

Dividers by @saradika

[quillthrillswriting]

my (quillthills) ao3 ATLA fanfiction masterlist:

"if happiness were a tangible thing, it would be you":

Katara is tired of the iron grip that Emperor Ozai has over the kingdom of Rosas, tired of watching him spread his influence across the mainland. When Sokka comes home from the palace with the knowledge of an impending tragedy, Katara is left to wish on the stars in hope that they will offer salvation. They do, in the form of the Avatar, a boy transformed into a wishing star almost a century earlier. Her wish for hope is fulfilled, in the form of a boy known to be the embodiment of hope. Will that same hope be enough to stand against a man powered by the dreams and wishes of an entire kingdom? OR: ever since pixina put the idea in my head of a kataang wish AU, i haven't been able to stop thinking about it. this fic is the result<3 if you haven't seen wish (2023) yet, don't worry! you don't really need to to understand this fic:)

"so i will go to secret gardens in my mind":

after he and katara's escape to the palace gardens the night prior, avatar aang, the king of all four elements, cannot stop thinking of the beautiful dark-haired water princess. misunderstandings and deliberate deception constructed by regent ozai makes the reconciliation of these star-crossed lovers more complicated than necessary. OR: the second of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"you’re in the wind, i’m in the water":

aang has only just been crowned as the avatar, the king of all four elements, and already, he struggles to find his footing in a society without any of his people. a dance with princess katara of the water tribe, and a subsequent escape to the palace gardens, helps him find that footing. OR: the first of many kataang regency-era works ♔

"there's a star-man, waiting in the sky":

a flash-fiction atla modern AU in which yue passes away from cancer early in life, and sokka becomes an astronaut so that he can go to space and be close to the moon she always loved so much ☾

"the teenager in the iceberg"- multichap

i feel like a lot of people have wondered how different atla as a whole would be if aang had been older, so in this au, aang was frozen at age 16! naturally, i just had to flip aang being after katara from day one to katara now having a crush on aang from the very beginning. essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder. also, cmon. i just had to write a new version of the scene where zuko and aang meet.

"you with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes"- multichap

Avatar Aang had been told time and time again that to venture across the surface of the sea when the moon had risen and claimed what rightfully belonged to it was to sign your own death certificate. And yet, he found himself here, at the water’s edge, skipping stones, lost in thought. To be the Avatar had once meant something, years before. Before the four tribes had separated, scattered to the ends of the earth. Those who formed fire itself chased the other tribes from the surface lands, those who could move rock and metal burrowed underground, those who flowed with the air sent ships with great sails across the sea until they reached towering mountain spires. Those who bent water, who bent blood… they retreated to the depths of the sea, and with time, they became a part of it. Legend told of the way in which the Water tribes had adapted, two legs smoothed into razor sharp scales and voices twisted into something dark and luring. Now, they were the monsters known as sirens. OR: a KATAANG AU where tui and la have split the earth into the sea and the sky. aang is a winged avian, while katara is a siren<3

"well, my (not-yet) boyfriend's in a band":

in which the gaang are in a band, and when it comes time for them to write an original song to submit to the republic city music festival, aang is...suspiciously good at writing love song lyrics OR kataang, if they were in an indie band and aang didn't know how to communicate his feelings except through writing love songs

"i’m no longer a kid, and everything has changed":

after aang falls to azula's lightning strike in the caves of the earth kingdom, toph, sokka, and katara are left to pick up the pieces. katara's healing abilities are put to the test in the weeks that follow, but she finds herself seeing aang in a different light as she realizes how much he's endured since emerging from the iceberg only months before. OR: the weeks-long gap between the end of season two and the beginning of season three of ATLA is finally at least partially expanded upon. ALSO OR: a bit of aangst, or kataangst, if you will

"can you see me using everything to hold back?":

Katara's life after saving the world was filled with a whirlwind romance with Fire Lord Zuko that became a loveless, controlling marriage she is no longer happy in. After finding out the extent to which her husband has betrayed her trust, she escapes to find home in the person she has missed most during her time in the Fire Nation. OR: The common Zutara trope of "Zuko helps Katara escape an unhealthy relationship with Aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

"my heart is yours, it’s you that i hold on to":

The war has been ended, Ozai has been rendered helpless, and Zuko has reclaimed the Fire Nation with the promise of peace. Everything that Aang has been working towards since the moment Katara freed him from the iceberg has been done. He's saved the world. Now, all that's left is to confess to his forever girl. OR Aang wakes up the morning after him and his friends saved the entire world, and the first (and only) thing he can think about is Katara. When they get a chance to talk, the two take a walk down memory lane.

"shining down on me":

sokka can't stop thinking about yue. she comes to him in his dreams, and try as he might, he just can't move on. inspired by the song "my love, mine all mine" by mitski

"the avatar's adventures in parenting":

aang being a bad parent is CHARACTER ASSASSINATION and i won't stand for it. i just know that him and katara wouldn't be focused on just passing on bending, but the *teachings* and ideals of both of their tribes to all their children, regardless of bending status. OR, aang and katara become parents and aang finds out that parenting is his proudest achievement, more so than stopping a hundred year war or holding the position of avatar

"i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said":

katara speaks to each member of the gaang individually and finds out that aang has been head over heels with her for years and no one ever bothered telling her. this takes place after the fire lord is defeated, but in my version, they never kissed in the finale:oo katara is basically dumb in terms of love and so is aang and they are peak miscommunication trope and theres too much zutara content and not enough kataang OR katara interrogates each of her friends (toph, sokka, and zuko) and comes to the conclusion that she has lived for years without the kind of love most people wish for their entire lives

if any of these speak to you, they can all be found on my ao3 account:)<3 happy reading!!!

[s-soulwriter]

Alternative Writing Challenges for November!

Hey everyone! As you might have heard, we’re not diving into NaNoWriMo this year due to some controversies surrounding the event and the website itself. ( Atleast I´m not) Personally, I’ve never really felt a strong connection to it, and I think it’s important to find writing challenges that resonate with us as individuals. So, to keep the creative spirit alive this November, here are some unique writing challenges you can dive into instead!

1. NanoWriMo? Nah! (NWN)

What it is: Instead of writing a novel in a month, write a series of short stories or vignettes, aiming for 10-15 stories by the end of November. Each story can focus on a different theme, character, or genre.

Why it rocks: This challenge allows for flexibility and creativity without the pressure of a long-term commitment. You get to experiment with different styles and ideas, giving yourself the freedom to explore various narrative paths!

2. Word Whirlwind

What it is: Each day, spin a wheel of random words or use a random word generator, and incorporate those words into a short scene or poem.

Why it rocks: This challenge encourages you to think outside the box and sparks creativity by forcing you to weave unusual or unexpected words into your writing. It’s a fun way to generate new ideas!

3. Character Countdown

What it is: Create a character a day for the entire month! Use a mix of prompts, archetypes, and unique traits. By the end, you'll have a diverse cast of characters to draw from.

Why it rocks: This challenge hones your character-building skills and helps you explore different personalities and backgrounds, which can enrich your future stories. Plus, you might discover some new favorites!

4. Plot Twist November

What it is: Take a classic story or your favorite book and rewrite its ending with a completely different twist. Aim for at least five rewrites by the end of the month!

Why it rocks: It’s a great way to analyze story structure and learn how to build suspense and surprise in your own writing. Plus, it’s a fun exercise in creativity to see how drastically you can change a story!

5. Poetry Palooza

What it is: Write a poem every day for the entire month, focusing on different styles or themes each day. Explore haikus, sonnets, free verse, and more!

Why it rocks: Poetry is a powerful way to express thoughts and emotions. This challenge will help you refine your writing skills, expand your vocabulary, and find new ways to convey meaning in just a few words.

6. November Narrative Nuggets (NNN)

What it is: Write a 100-word story each day that captures a moment, feeling, or event. By the end of the month, you'll have 30 concise stories!

Why it rocks: This challenge promotes brevity and precision in your writing. It’s a fantastic exercise in focusing on the essence of storytelling and conveying emotions with fewer words.

7. Themed Flash Fiction Festival

What it is: Each week, choose a different theme (e.g., love, betrayal, adventure) and write a flash fiction piece (under 1,000 words) based on that theme.

Why it rocks: This challenge encourages you to explore different genres and styles while honing your ability to tell impactful stories in a limited space. It’s a wonderful way to discover new narrative techniques!

8. Gratitude Stories

What it is: In the spirit of November and for some Thanksgiving, write a short story each week that focuses on gratitude—whether it’s a character expressing thanks or a moment that evokes appreciation.

Why it rocks: This challenge not only helps you write but also allows you to reflect on positive experiences and feelings, creating a collection of uplifting narratives to brighten your November.

9. Dialogue Driven November

What it is: Focus exclusively on writing dialogue this month. Create scenes that are driven entirely by conversations between characters, aiming for one scene per day.

Why it rocks: This challenge helps you sharpen your dialogue skills, focusing on how characters communicate and interact. It’s a great way to develop voice and tension in your writing!

10. Epic Fail November

What it is: Embrace the art of failure! Each day, write a scene that intentionally goes wrong or includes a major plot hole. By the end of the month, compile these “epic fails” for a humorous take on writing.

Why it rocks: This challenge encourages you to let go of perfectionism and embrace the fun side of writing. It’s a light-hearted way to explore what doesn’t work in storytelling while allowing creativity to flow without fear of judgment!

[edwinspaynes]

Hi! How do you think the TLH characters/couples spend the Christmas holidays? Especially in the future when they have families

Oh this is so cute! I've honestly always thought that the group would all go to the Institute Christmas Party together on Christmas Eve. But then they would spend time with their significant others (and the children they had together when appilcable) on Christmas Day.

So, we'll go with Christmas Day!

James and Cordelia spend the entire evening reading Dickens's Christmas stories together. They take turns reading and do all the voices, and when their three children arrive into the world, they do it with them, too. I also think they exchange romantic gifts with each other and decorate the house for the holidays, have a Christmas tree with their kids (Two girls and one, the youngest, a boy). They make ornaments together and put them onto their tree.

Thomas and Alastair will probably go off on a holiday somewhere. No kids. I think that later in their life they enjoy Portaling to NYC and ice skating together in the Rockefeller Center (they're glamoured, no lines.) But the Rockefeller Center didn't exist until they were in their late 40s, so until then? I think they do lots of fun things. I think they have a gingerbread house and Thomas dabs icing on Alastair's nose so he gets all grumpy about it. I also think they get a tree and Thomas's half always looks so lopsided and Alastair's is so aesthetically pleasing.

Matthew spends the holidays with his partner, probably Sylvain, in a way that is authentic to them as a couple. Imo, no kids. I will get back to you in the fall if you remind me, after A Sea Change!

Ari and Anna go to little Christmas festivals with their 2 daughters. I think that Anna still enjoys groups of people, and this is an exciting way to make merry. I think that Matthew and probably-Sylvain like to join in, but they do not do so every year.

In a nice little AU where Kit lived, Grace and Christopher enjoy baking Christmas goods and giving them to their loved ones. Baking is chemistry, after all, and they want to spread happiness! They also just like to snuggle up and drink cocoa.

BTW. Shameless self-promo, but if you want to know what I think Christmas parties amongst themselves might look like, you can read this (primarily Thomastair, but also featuring Matthew, Herondaisy, Grace, and Arianna):

And its spicy Thomastair carriage-fuck spinoff (NSFW):

Here's an unrelated-to-the-above collection of flash fiction oneshots about various TSC ships and friendships:

And an unrelated Herondaisy-shopping-for-gifts oneshot:

AND another short Thomastair drabble of them skating at the Rockefeller Center as middle aged men:

[spicywhenspeaking]

Star-Crossed Connection: chapter two

Nick Folio x Original Female Character

WC: 3k

masterpost

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Seraphina Holloway is Hollywood’s new it girl. But, when an embarrassing viral video of her ex / costar publicly dumping her goes viral, she thinks she needs a quick fix to help maintain her image. When she’s set to appear at her new movies premier she scrambles to find a date to bring that will help take the white hot spotlight away from her public dumping and show that she’s still desirable to all. Enter Nick Folio, drummer of the metalcore band that’s taking over the scene, Bad Omens. He’s a sweet down to earth guy with a heart of gold and when a smokin hot movie star asks him to be her fake boyfriend for a week he agrees to help. But will the line between fake feelings and reals ones start to blur when Seraphina lets her true self show.

Taglist: @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @to-be-written @bngurngheart @jessicafg03 @knivesforapr0 @thatchickwiththecamera @somewhere-diamond @sorrowsofsilence @malerieee @dsireland86 @collapsedglasshouses @jilliemiw86 @samanthasgone -> tags are open !

A few days later I’m finalizing my festival outfits with my stylist. The photos the paparazzi took were splashed all over the tabloids and drama blogs the day after they found Folio and I were ambushed on our date. 

My plan worked like a charm. Every article or blog post was gushing over me and my newfound love. It was almost too easy to sway the public perception. All it took was a few perfectly timed photos of a new hot guy shielding me from the onslaught of flashes and pestering questions from pathetic men who have nothing better to do than follow girls like me around day and night trying to get a million-dollar photo. 

Looking into the 360 mirror I admire the beautiful black one-strapped ball gown my stylist picked out for the movie premiere. “It’s lovely, this was an amazing find, Lala. Did you find any cute stuff for skiing?” Lala smiles and pulls out another rack of clothes with several snowsuits in all different colors. I decide to try on the pink one and the all-white one. 

“I’ll take both of these they’re so hot, so all that’s left is a few choices for the press junket and I’ll look through some of the options you brought for my date.” I move to look through the outfits she’s picked out for folio and choose a black Armani tux and full black snowsuit along with some jewelry that one of my brand deals has sent. “These are perfect, he is going to look so hot,” I say finishing up and choosing a few more accessories from the table. I grab several rings, necklaces and a few different bags. “So things are getting serious between you and this new guy?” Lala asks and I put on my sweetest lovesick smile, “Oh yeah, he’s great. The perfect guy for me. Nothing like the egomaniac actors I usually date. He’s so real.” I answer, fighting the internal ripple of shame that overwhelms me. Folio and I have been texting back and forth since our paparazzi fiasco and he really is a nice guy. I’m a massive asshole for using him like this but it’s just a week and then I can say something about how it was a mutual decision because both of our careers are so hectic. 

Just then my phone pings with a new message 

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: TMZ is blowing up my phone about those pics, what should I say?

Seraphina 👑: you can tell them no comment. Or ignore it, it’s up to you! I’m sorry they’re bothering you, I figured they would just bombard me. 

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: No worries sweetheart, you can’t control the crazies that follow you around. 

Damn, I fucking suck. I should just be honest with him. It’ll definitely make it easier if he’s in on my plan. 

Well, I’ll explain it all on the plane when we leave in a couple of days and if he decides just to turn around and go back home I will totally understand. It’ll totally ruin my plan and I’ll look even more of a loser but I can’t just keep lying to him about everything. 

I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day so I decide to head home and rot on my couch. While I’m rewatching Gossip Girl for the millionth time on my couch I get a surprising call from a certain motorcycle-driving drummer. I answer it and am surprised by the smile that spreads across my face at the idea of talking to him. 

Hey Folio! 

Hey sweetheart are you busy? 

Um no, just watching TV what’s up?

Are you up for a ride up the coast to watch the sunset? I know a place.

That sounds great! I can be ready in 20. I’ll text you my address. 

Okay, I’ll head over soon. 

Okay! Bye!

Alright, looking forward to it sweetheart. 

Thirty minutes later I hear the hum of a motorcycle from outside and get a text from Folio that he just pulled up. I run out of my front door wearing my black levis with a plain white tee under my cropped black hoodie. “Hey!” I call out over the sound of the motor. “Hey!” he responds quickly hopping off the bike to wrap his arms around me in a quick hug. “You ready to get out of here?” he asks and I nod enthusiastically “Yes, I’m excited!” 

He climbs back over and I throw my leg over the side behind him and wrap my arms around his waist as he starts up the bike again. “Hold on tight sweetheart” he drawls out as he turns out of the driveway and down the road. 

“I’m taking you to a spot near Malibu that’s beautiful at sunset,” he says over the sound of the roaring motor. 

It takes over an hour to get to the beach, the sun is low but there are still maybe 10 minutes left before it’s fully set. We park and Folio grabs a blanket from a storage trunk on the side of his bike. We walk hand-in-hand to a spot with little foot traffic. He unfolds it, it’s thick, hand-woven, and dark red. It’s large and looks big enough for us to both sit comfortably off of the sand. He spreads it out on the ground so we can sit and watch the sun take its last moments before dipping below the horizon. 

“So, Phi, can I call you Phi?” he asks softly as his gaze slides from the sunset to me. I nod softly as he continues, the orange light of the sun covering him in a warm glow. “so Phi, I want to help you with this whole festival thing, but can you give me some information about what I might expect? Will the paparazzi be around every corner? Or is that only when you give them a heads up where you’ll be?”  

I try and fail to hide the embarrassment and shock that’s written all over my face. “What- what do you mean? Heads up? What do you even mean?- I” his unamused face is all it takes for me to drop the act. I had said to myself I wanted to be honest with him but I guess I didn’t anticipate getting caught. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh, “how did you know?”

He laughs softly and tosses a rock he found on the other side of the blanket towards the crashing waves. “I had a hunch, and a photographer friend of mine may have given me a heads up.” He arches a brow at me, waiting for my reply.

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I know that doesn’t mean anything now but-“ I look up as the sun finally disappears, leaving the sky a beautiful orange and pink. “I didn’t want to keep lying to you. I know we’re practically strangers and for some reason, you’ve agreed to help me with this absurd plan, but from now on I promise I will keep you informed on all of the things I can control” I turn to face him, prepared for him to either tell me the plan is off or by some miracle bless me with forgiveness. 

“You know, we could’ve given them way more of a show if I had known” he laughs and the tension I was holding between my shoulders drops. “I don’t really understand your world or how it works but if you teach me I’m happy to play along,” he says and it feels so sincere, I almost wish this was real, but he’s right, he’s just playing along. 

“I think I’ve just let this whole situation get to me too much, I mean look at me, asking some stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend because I’m too--well, it doesn’t matter. I just, all I’ve ever wanted was to act and my parents did everything to help me get to this point. I can’t help but think of how ashamed my dad would be to see me now” 

Folio bumps lightly into my shoulder before throwing his arm around me and pulling me closer into his side. “Strangers? I don’t think so, but there’s definitely more I want to learn about you Phi. I don’t think he’d be ashamed at all.”  He says as he rests his head on the top of mine while we watch the final colors of the day disappear and the darkness of night blanket the sky. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Just final packing for the trip, didn’t have much of anything planned,” I answer. 

He takes a moment to think before he speaks again, “What if instead of flying to Colorado we rent a car and drive to Colorado together? It’s only a 14-hour drive. It will give us time to get to know each other better and since it’s a rental we can just fly home at the end of the week. What do you think?” He asks gaze still fixed on the horizon. 

Humming in thought I consider his proposition. “You want to road trip to Colorado? I guess I could get a last-minute rental, we’d need to leave tomorrow though, you can be prepared for that?”

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, I can pack pretty fast.” I laugh as well at the absurdity of the way this is all turning out. But it sounds like it will be a fun adventure. We spend a bit longer on the beach making idle conversation. I was able to work out a rather quick rental agreement thanks to my brand deal with Hertz and I sent a quick text to my assistant that I would be traveling up a day early. She and my glam team are going to meet us at the resort. “Well, your spontaneity has worked out in our favor. I have the car teed up to be sent to my house at 7 am. I can pick you up after and we can head out.” He excitedly agrees to the plans and even offers to just meet at my house, as long as he can park his bike there while we are gone. 

After Folio drops me off later that evening I rush around to pack a quick bag. Jules, my assistant, has already arranged for my clothes to be sent to my hotel room at the festival so I just need to pack a few essentials into my suitcase, my daily makeup and toiletries along with my loungewear and casual clothes. It’s already late and I’m exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow so sleep overtakes me quickly.

I’m awoken by the sound of my alarm going off at 6:30 am and I find myself feeling excited about the prospects of the day despite the early hour, especially after getting way less sleep than usual. No worries though, nothing a little coffee can’t fix. I throw on a comfortable outfit for a long car ride and begin making my first coffee of the day. Around 6:50 am I received the text that the car was here so I run out to accept the key and sign the final paperwork. 

“Oh shit! You’re Seraphina Holloway! I’m a huge fan, your show on MTV was amazing! I can’t believe they canceled it!” the guy who dropped off the car said with a huge smile spread across his face. “Haha thank you! I loved being on that show it was such a fun time! I’m glad you liked it!” I reply. He leaves with a giddy smile and waves excitedly as he pulls away in the car that followed him in with the rental. I ended up with a black 2024 Chevy Tahoe and it looks so cool. 

I am bringing out my bag to load into the trunk when I hear the rumble of Folio’s bike coming up the road as he turns the corner up my driveway I can’t help the goofy smile I give him, I almost feel self-conscious about how happy I am to see him until he whips his helmet off and is wearing a matching smile of his own. “Mornin’ Phi, how are ya feeling?” he asks while hanging his helmet off of the handles of his bike. He walks over to wraps his arms around me in a big hug. “Hey Nicky, I’m feeling great! I’m excited about the road trip. How are you?”

He sides my bag onto his shoulder and gestures for me to unlock the trunk. “I’m feeling great sweetheart. I’m excited as well! I hope you’re prepared for a killer playlist.” 

“Oh you’re on! We will see who’s musical prowess puts who on top.” I jokingly tease. He laughs and puts the rest of his things in the car along with my bag. 

I invite him inside while I finish locking up, I offer Folio a coffee and he accepts thankfully. “Oh my god yes please, my roommates drank the last of the creamer and I cannot drink black coffee.” I laugh as I make us two fresh vanilla iced lattes for the road.

Heading towards the car I offer to drive the first leg. Nicky tried to offer to drive the whole thing but I can’t allow that. Plus splitting it up will help it go by faster. 

“Alright! Let’s hit the road, Nicky! Next stop Colorado baby!!!” I pump my fists in celebration and before I can feel the embarrassment of the action take over he’s pumping his fists as well “WooHoo! Hell yeah! Lets gooo!” he calls out and I can’t help the joyus laugh that takes over as we back out and talk off down the road. My phone is connected to the carplay so I have control over the first music rotation. “Alright, this is my time to shine. For your consideration.” I say before hitting shuffle on my road trip playlist.

It starts off with playing Panama by Van Halen. “oh shit! Starting it off strong with Van Halen. You are more than meets the eye Hollywood.” 

I laugh with my whole body, “Not what you expected huh? My dad used to quiz me on car rides, I was raised on classic rock.” 

jump back, what's that sound ? 

Here she comes, full blast and top down. 

Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue. 

Model citizen zero discipline 

Don't you know she's coming home with me? 

You'l lose her in the turn. 

I'll get her!

“Panama, Panama Panama, Panama Ain't nothin' like it, her shiny machine. Got the feel for the wheel, keep the moving parts clean.” we sing along together. 

When the song finishes and “Go Your Own Way” starts next. “So I found this list of questions to get to know each other better on the road,” Folio says. “So, starting off easy, what are your three favorite movies?” 

“Oh crap, oh my god? Easy?? Okay….three favorite movies are Pride and Prejudice from 2005, Pacific Rim but NOT the sequel and oh god, um I’ll say Secret World of Arrietty, which is a Studio Ghibli. What about you?” I ask.

“Okay I love Pacific Rim so I trust you and will be watching the other that you mentioned. I like Star Wars Empire Strikes Back, Kill Bill, and the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” 

“I love horror movies! And omg okay nerd of course you would say the name of the episode instead of just Star Wars.” I joke and he laughs. “alright alright, it’s an important distinction. Real fans know what’s up. Okay, next question, what is your favorite photo?”

I think for a moment about all the pictures I’ve ever taken and am hit with a beautiful memory, “there was a summer my family took a vacation to the Florida coast and my cousins and I started a sand castle competition. I built a huge three-story sand mansion. My dad helped me get the towers just right. My mom took a picture of us right as a tower fell,” I laugh softly, “my dad and I are laughing hysterically as it falls, I didn’t even care about winning I was just having fun with my dad.” 

I turn my eyes off the road for a quick moment to look over at Nicky and he’s smiling thoughtfully. “That’s beautiful Phi, sounds like it was a great trip.”

“Oh god no, our hotel was infested with fleas, and my dad’s credit card got stolen on the second day, but those hours on the beach made it all worth it. Okay your turn, favorite picture.” 

Folio opens his phone and scrolls through rows of photos until he finally lands on one, “this one is for sure on of my favorites.” I look quickly and it’s a photo of him and the other guys from his band all grouped together with huge grins on their faces, almost like they’re laughing. “It was after the first concert of our first tour, I was the happiest I had ever been and when I knew that I’d do anything to make this dream come true with those guys.”

“That’s amazing Nicky, and you guys did it! That’s amazing.” 

We continue our game of a million questions for a few more hours of the drive while listening to music in the background. One question leads to more conversations and I feel like I’ve talked more genuinely about myself than I have in years. It’s so refreshing. At the halfway point we pull off in a small diner and eat a quick early dinner before Folio takes over for his leg of the drive. 

The great music and conversation make the last hours of the trip fly by, before I know it we are passing the Colorado state line in the late evening and finally pull into the resort’s long drive way at nearly 3 am for our check-in. I take a deep breath, “okay, are you ready fake boyfriend?” I ask him and he gives a mock salute, “oh I’m ready girlfriend, it’s gonna be a good time.”

next chapter ->

[suzannahnatters]

Flash Fic: The Girl in the Tower

Imagine this: you are a girl, locked in a tower.

Does it matter why? Let’s say your parents made a bargain with a witch—a golden-haired daughter for a bunch of parsley. So now you are the girl in the tower. Your only company (apart from the witch, but her visits are worse than nothing) is a book.

The book is full of stories, all the same. Once upon a time, a girl was cursed by a witch to live alone, until a prince rescued her with a true love’s kiss. They lived happily ever after.

You don’t know what alone means, because you’ve never been anything else. Still, the book insists that true love is the best thing that could possibly happen to a girl.

You put your faith in the book. You make songs about love.

Sometimes, even in the heart of the forest, someone hears your song. You have a marvellous voice, as golden as your hair. The book assures you that handsome princes cannot resist the golden singing of golden girls.

Except that they do.

Some block their ears and hurry away (they think you are a wood-siren, luring them to their doom). Others stop only to tell you your hair is a vanity and so are your songs.

One wishes to behold your face, but the climb is too daunting.

Years pass. You begin to understand what alone means. Alone means that you could gnaw your own flesh if it meant that someone, anyone, would climb your tower.

At last, one day, someone does. He hears your singing, and he doesn’t block his ears. He climbs your golden hair, and says it is glorious.

He says your songs are beautiful. He says he must go, because his true love awaits him at home.

This is a possibility for which the book never prepared you, but it makes perfect sense. Only true love could give a man courage in the face of song, strength to climb a tower, heart to comfort a lonely girl.

You gnaw on your own flesh and you feel tenderly grateful to his true love, whom you have never seen.

He returns. (You never quite believed he would, because why would he, when he has a true love at home?) Alone doesn’t need to be your name, he says. How many years was it since you felt hope? Perhaps, beyond this tower, your own love is waiting for you.

Or perhaps you’ll slip, and the witch will find you out. She’ll blind the prince, cut off your hair and abandon you both in a howling wilderness.

You’ll be free, but you won’t go looking for a love of your own, not yet. You’ll look for him, because he may not be your love, but he's the nearest thing you have. You’ll never rest till you’ve healed his hurts and sent him home.

Imagine this: that after all there are more ways than one to love, and all of them are true.

-----

I wrote this flash fic for the Pilgrim Artists' Festival, a small Christian festival of art, music, and words which runs every year in Tasmania's Huon Valley. The theme for the 2023 festival was "Beauty in the Everyday." One of the most underrated, beautiful things in the world, in my opinion, is platonic friendship between men and women. Like many of us I grew up in a world that believed men and women can't be friends - they can only be sexual partners. As a thirty-something chronically single woman, my friendships with men, even married men, are meaningful and lifegiving to me on a level that I'm not even going to try to be normal about.

The Pilgrim Artists' Festival opens every year for submissions of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, art, and music from Christian, Nicene-Creed-affirming artists, including children and adults, anywhere in the world. There is a different prompt each year and a 500 word limit on literary entries. There are also dozens of prizes available - check them out and submit here.

Other Pilgrim Artists' Festival flash fic: The Gardens of Hades Strange the Living Final Transmission

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

What a fool

Using the @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt #FFF257 Count the days, I have written Wakamiya/Nazukihiko’s POV of the terrace scene. Thank you Flash Fiction Friday for this opportunity.

Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master

Characters: Wakamiya/Nazukihiko, Yukiya, mention of Lady Azusa and Shiratama

Word count: 919

Warning: if you haven’t seen the 10th episode let me tell you that there are a couple of spoilers ahead.

LIKE everything else, Wakamiya could sense it when someone was in the Main Shrine. The palace had become a part of him akin to a heartbeat that he knew it at once if there was an intruding presence.

Carefully treading the wooden steps to the rooftop terrace, he caught a glimpse of a figure wearing a sky-blue kimono lounging on the railing. The way it leaned on the bamboo terrace was familiar. It still surprised him that Yukiya willingly went up there without any qualms. Something bothered the boy.

“Yukiya,” the prince softly called his attendant’s name lest the pubescent would think of jumping to the ground and injuring himself in the process.

“Your Highness?!” Yukiya’s big midnight blue eyes shone in the pale moonlight. They fascinated him.

“Did I startle you?”

“You did and I was ready to run away!”

Wakamiya did not know why but he found the statement so funny that he let out a half-suppressed laugh. He knew the many times Yukiya would love to hit him in the face. Too bad for the boy because he knew how to defend himself.

There was brief silence between them when he remembered Lady Azusa’s letter of request if he could give Yukiya a few days off to celebrate his 14th birthday coinciding with the Lunar Festival.

One of the princesses, Shitarama, Yukiya’s cousin, turned 14 when she arrived at the Sakura Blossom Palace to join the rite. However, it was strange to refer to Yukiya as a mere child when his cousin was already regarded as a woman when their birthdays were only a few months apart. Unbeknownst to everyone, the girl already had a lover back home.

“Cannot sleep? Is everything all right?” This was unusual. Staying up late was not on Yukiya’s routine since he started working for him.

“My mother asked me to visit them for the moon-viewing in a fortnight.”

Ah. Of course, the only thing he must do is ask me. Or better yet, tell me in my face that he is going to visit them without expecting if I would give my assent or not. Why is he so reluctant?

“It is also your 14th birthday. It is only proper to grant the Lady Azusa’s request even if it means you are going to leave me for a few days.”

He could not help giving off that sadness on his voice which made Yukiya turn to him.

“Your Highness?”

The prince shook his head. At the age of 14 he was somewhere else away from Yamauchi because every day he had to be mindful of his life not to be in danger. Once when the Empress called his audience, a few minutes seated before her, he sensed the numbness on his fingers and toes, was sweating and could not stand up. Breathing became laborious. He asked to be dismissed at once. When Natsuka found him in his bedchamber, he noticed that his little brother did not look well.

The cause of it all was the karon incense that the Empress was so fond of. Calming at first, but deadly with the large doses if the human body was not used to it. For years, he developed ways to withstand the sedative effect of the incense that could only be imported from the Southern Territory.

Yukiya then looked at him with the pain in his eyes that the Crown Prince could not discern if it was pity or affection.

“You need me,” the boy said. For now, there was a change on Yukiya’s vocal cords. A slight one, nonetheless. His physique gained a bit of muscle mass as his sparring with Sumio became more intense wanting to know if there was anything else to improve. He observed the boy practise every day, who never shied away from what he was capable of. He knew that if another attempt again would ever happen, he could rely on Yukiya to defend him or fight with him on his side.

“I do,” he said softly. Suddenly, the urge to reach for him, to touch the boy’s face, was so strong but the way he looked at him with so much intensity stopped him from doing so. Alas, their kimonos touched. Wakamiya counted the days until he could ascend to the throne. It was a requirement that Yukiya as his kin’ju to move in to one of the rooms in the upper floors of the Main Shrine, close to the emperor’s suite, like it had always been thousands of years ago.

A thought came up to him: What a fool to put all his trust to one person.

He wanted to tell him how in diverse ways he was important to him. The teenager, on the other hand, turned red on the face and leaned his arms on the handrail.

And now you are hiding away from me.

Wakamiya’s left hand was an inch closer to Yukiya’s hair. He heard the boy whine softly as if in pain.

“Your bed is calling for you,” Wakamiya could only say.

“I will come back per our agreement,” Yukiya assured him.

“Of course. I expect you to.”

The boy wished him good night and headed toward his bedchamber.

As the sound of footsteps slowly ebbed away, Wakamiya started to shiver as the biting cold filled his lungs. He then inserted his hands inside his kimono sleeves to warm them up and let out a sigh that he was keeping for so long.

He waited for the sunrise to come.

tbc

—

So enamoured of the Yatagarasu universe I don’t blame everyone who’s enchanted by it. This is Yukiya’s POV. Full AO3 link here.

[cinderella-ish]

Fic Recs: Next Gen Characters

Characters from Another

An Abalone on the Shore, by crabandpeaches G | Gen - Momiji | Short Story | angst & drama & hurt/comfort Momiji is anxious about his future and isn’t sure what to do from here on out. Unknowingly, Tohru teaches him a lesson.

Baby's First Birthday, by me G | Tohru/Kyo, Tohru & Yuki | Flash Fiction | mild hurt/comfort Tohru can't seem to get her camcorder to work.

Fearing the future, by modzy78 T | Tohru/Kyo | Novelette | angst & slice of life Kyo faces his biggest challenge, and it terrifies him. How will he face his future?

Hopeless Causes, by Geoduck G | Gen - Kyo & Hajime & Mutsuki | Short Story | hurt/comfort Hajime wondered where his father always disappeared to when they visited the Sohma main house. And why he always seemed so sad afterwards.

How to Accidentally Terrify Your Entire Family, by itsalreadyhalloweenright G | Gen - Hajime & his sister | Short Story | Fluff & Humor Shirasi Sohma, youngest of Kyo and Tohru Sohma, desperately misses her brother Hajime after he's moved far away for high school. So one Friday, she decides to through some clothes into the bottom of her backpack and take the train to go see him for the weekend. Without telling anybody ahead of time.

I'll Be Ready, by OnigiriCat4Ever E | Hajime/Mutsuki | Novelette | smut Four months have passed since Mutsuki kissed Hajime and told him he loved him; four months have passed since Hajime said it back. For Hajime's sake, the two of them have been taking things slowly, but Hajime is finally feeling comfortable enough to try a little bit more.

it's alright, it's okay, by Rookblonkorules T | Gen - Akito & Shigure & Shiki | Short Story | angst & hurt/comfort Shiki has always known there were people who hated his mother and that, by extension, some of that hatred has trickled down to him.

Like a Bolt Out Of the Blue, by me G | Tohru/Kyo, Hajime/Mutsuki, Momiji/OMC | Short Story | fluff & pining At their annual family beach trip, Hajime wrestles with some big feelings.

Like Father, Like Son, by me T | Gen - Tohru & Kyo & Hajime & Yuma (Tohru/Kyo as well) | Short Story | fluff When Tohru and Kyo can't find their two young sons one morning, they turn up in an unexpected-- and very cute!-- place.

Second Visit, by Geoduck T | Tohru/Kyo | Short Story | hurt/comfort Kyo and Tohru visit the office of a medical professional. After they leave, they talk about it.

The Talk, by Geoduck T | Gen - Kyo (adult Tohru/Kyo appear at the very end) | Short Story | humor It all started, as it so often does, with an insult. Typically, an insult led to another insult, harsh words, fighting and (not always, but with worrying regularity) an unconscious Kyo Sohma. Sometimes, however, the results of an insult were just… odd.

Truth and Consequences, by OnigiriCat4Ever T | Kyo & his daughter | WIP | angst, drama, & hurt/comfort For twenty years following the breaking of the Curse, Kyo did his best to forget it. Telling his son Hajime was terrifying, but in his son's acceptance, understanding, and unwavering love, Kyo felt a lightness and freedom he never could have imagined. Both of his sons know; both of his sons accept. Only one person has yet to learn the truth: his daughter, Sachiko.

Wish, by me G | Tohru/Kyo | Short Story | fluff Tohru and Kyo take their three children to their small town's Tanabata festival.

Other

Colour of Kyou, by tokyofish G | M/F - multiple | Novelette | angst, tragedy An AU character piece that takes place after a confrontation with Akito that turned out very badly for the cast. Written from Kyou's POV.

Empty Basket, by RunningOnSunshine M | Tohru/Kyo, Tohru/Kakeru | WIP | angst, drama, & hurt/comfort The Sohma family is thriving. The curse has been broken, marriages are happening, and children are being born. Never before has the Sohma family been so at ease… until Kyo contracts a fatal illness, just months after Tohru becomes pregnant with their first child.

Hold On, by Danyu T | Tohru/Kyo | Novella | angst, drama, & romance Kyou has accepted his fate as the cat. Relationships change and the bond between he and Tohru is cemented forever. But he leaves something behind, something precious enough to give everyone the strength to hold on.

The Ones Who Walk Away From Sohma House, by Geoduck G | Gen - next gen Zodiac & Akito, Kyo, Kazuma, & Tohru | Short Story | angst Most say there must always be a monster. But there are a few who refuse to accept that.

Here are works I've tagged with Another in my bookmarks!

Fic Recs Masterpost

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

cozy halloween flash fiction day!

🕯️🎃 welcome, witches and cryptid enthusiasts alike, to a day of cozy halloween flash fictions! 🎃🕯️

as the nights grow longer and the leaves crunch beneath our boots, what better way to celebrate than with a little magic, mystery, and warmth?

today, i’ll be sharing a series of cozy halloween story prompts designed to spark your imagination. each prompt invites you to craft your own flash fiction—filled with whimsical encounters, soft-spooky vibes, and a hint of supernatural charm.

expect a magical lantern festival, cryptid slumber parties, and a few enchanted mishaps along the way; today is all about blending the spooky with the cozy 🥰

you want to write about a grumpy garden gnome who secretly has a heart of gold or a witch’s midnight broom race?

stay tuned for 10 new cozy halloween prompts going up today! i’ll be posting the first 2 prompts in 2 hours!

feel free to grab any prompt and run with it—turn it into your own bite-sized flash fiction or short story! aim for that cozy

have fun and happy spooky writing!

and if want to stay updated on every prompt?

make sure to turn on post notifications or like this post to join our tag-list so you don’t miss a single cozy post!

tag list 🙂‍↕️

@slenders1ckn3ss @lucistarsfire @mai2themai @fond-illusion @p00lverinecentral

don’t forget to share your stories by tagging me and using cozy horror or oli’s inkwell symposium so i can see your magical creations!

[thelittolpinkstudent]

[4/27/2024]

hello, hello! today and yesterday were busy and productive! there were two festivals i took part in yesterday, and i got sunburnt :( but it’s okay, i’ve been moisturizing and i’m getting aloe tomorrow! i was only able to work for about an hour on schoolwork, but i was able to get a decent amount done on one project.

today was the most productive i’ve been in a while, and it’s most likely because me and my friend holed ourselves up in a library study room for five hours. we utilized pomodoro timers, one hour long one and another 25/5 for 3.5 hours. i did leave to go to a club meeting at one point in between the two timers, but got straight back to it! here’s what i did today:

✅ finished planning out a social media public health campaign

✅ public health current event

✅ revision of flash fiction pieces

✅ anthropology guided reading

✅ started making posts for the campaign

tonight we’re going to a self-care bingo, and i’m a huge fan of bingo at school, so it’s an exciting night. i’ll probably settle in early afterwards, just working on my bullet journal for may and going to sleep soon afterwards.

i’m very close to the end of the semester, only one more week of classes! next week, i will need to start packing up my room. even though i’m not leaving until the end of finals, i’m sending home a decent amount of stuff next weekend since my parents are coming down.

i will talk to you all soon! have a great day! 💕

d-12

[way-of-love]

Mayor Que Usted (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x LatinaFemPregReader) (ONESHOT,MAYBE?)(R-RATED) (NO MINORS)

A stop in Puerto Rico can mean a lot of things, refuel, some R&R, family vacation or maybe just hiding from the Cuban drug lords. Simon Riley didn't think this tropic island was a good spot to stop before heading back t base in the U.S. but Price called the shots so there they were. But while watching the locals gather for Halloween and doing their little celebration he didn't expect to be consumed by such spice and fierceness from one little local woman who seemed to know his type just fine.

I hopped on the trend, I apologize

(UPDATE: The name of the female character is Amelia Cruz)

Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.

2018

After a drug bust in Cuba the 141 needed a place to lay low before heading back into the states for a reassignment or further instructions. The Cuban cartel were a relentless bunch in their pursuit for the men who blew up their entire operation and chased them all the way to Jamaican and Hatian waters before they stopped their effortless pursuit. Whatever information Price pried out of one of the major drug lords had to be why they kept chasing after them, whatever it was it was dangerous.

Price told the crew they had to lay low and separate throughout the island to keep a watchful eye on not only their hides but the people here as well. There could have been a few men who continued their pursuit for revenge.

Simon knew it would be no good to stop and lay low here on yet another tropical island where its people just wanted to live peacefully. But what else could they have done? What if they brought the fight here? It was a very slim possibility considering it it was national waters but it was never impossible. He knew that danger lurked in every corner. This whole island was big enough to hide both Simon, Price and company but it wasn't big enough to protect its people.

That's what kept Simon up every night. Always the ‘what if’s’. People on the island were kind, too kind and accepted him with open arms even even with the mask. He liked that, they didn't ask questions. They probably thought he just had a nasty face or maybe was really enjoying the month of October getting ready for Halloween. It didn't matter to him the reasoning as long as he blended in like the tourists that seemed to be scattered around the entire area he stayed in then laying low would be no problem.

And it wouldn't have been a problem if he didn't meet her.

Simon usually didn't intervene in any festivities or parties even as a teen because there was no need for it. Nor did he have the privilege to attend one while tending to his military duties but tonight while he resided in the shadows he found himself nearing a small little street festival. Music was blaring, laughter filled the alley that he watched from and lights... goodness the lights were so bright a flash grenade would be a better comparison to it.

It amazed him how bright and merry the people on the island were, as if they had no care in the world for anything. Not even the danger he thought the 141 may have brought upon them. Simon hoped their happiness lasted.

There was a grand stage with barriers placed on the side to keep control of the crowd, a DJ playing on the stage, lights floating around the stone road where people mingled.

Puerto Rico's people were laughing and dancing around the blocked street dressed in costumes from head to toe, well most of the adults anyways. Some dressed as devils, nurses, fictional killers so he fit right in with his mask. He examined the mass of bodies mash together dancing with one another in time with the beat of the music, music was meant to be enjoyed yes but this obscene touching and grinding made him wince a bit. Did they always have to do that?

His gaze soon landed on one particular woman who stood out amongst the rest, wearing a deep red sundress that hugged every ounce of her body and complimented it very well. Many things popped up in his head that kept his gaze on her. First, she wasn't wearing a costume. Second, she was dancing by herself by the mouth of the alleyway where he was currently hidden in. Thirdly, her movements were like fluid water. Her hips swung side to side and her hands slid up her thighs, her hips making her dress lift up higher upon her slender legs. Was she aware he was here?

Simon wasn't about to make his presence known. He didn't want to scare her or break her concentration because it was mesmerizing for him, as thought she were trying to seduce him with just the movements of her body.

Soon, her friends showed up, they chatted a bit and began to dance altogether. And again Simon watched the brunette in the red sundress sink into that headspace and move her arms, her hips, her waist and move with her friend molding against her back. What would happen if he took his mask off, even just for the night and danced with her, just to see what it would be like?

He knew he couldn't. He was a dangerous man who did dangerous things and who knew if someone thought of him as suspicious and sought him out. Price would then be pissed. And Simon would have lost his touch.

Instead the ghost silently stood from where he sat upon the crate and dusted himself off ready to go back to the safe house by the pub or bar some would call it and have a whiskey before turning in for the night, try to at least. But he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand and even with the mask on he felt it. Quickly he turned around and came face to face with the girl he was watching not even a few seconds prior.

She stared at him with a lovely little smile on her red stained lips, hands on either side of the alley way walls, yes it was small enough to fit one person down it, and her bangs covered her dark eyes. He didn't move, something in him felt caught in her gaze and prevented him from moving.

Fuckin' hell Simon.

The tall man stood across the dancer who she's been keeping an eye on ever since he sat in the alleyway most kids ran through during the day. Tilting her head she slowly approached the strange masked man who seemed to enjoy watching her dance and as she approached the man she spoke.

"Hablas espanol?"

Simon closed his eyes briefly. Even her voice sounded seductive. But he didn't respond.

She noticed the lack of response but didn't mind it one bit. When she was but a foot away from him she smiled sweetly at him.

"So, English it is then?"

He was supposed to be laying low, there was no mingling with the locals if he could help it. Groceries, markets and even getting a drink were an exception. Not for conversation.

"You know, starring at a lady is kinda creepy. If you wanted to dance all you had to do was ask," The woman bit her bottom plump lip and looked directly up into the eyes of soldier who had killed countless of men and who had done unimaginable things, in the eyes with no fear. She didn't know who he was nor will she ever know. One night should be fine, right?

"I can't be in the light."

Was that the best thing he could say? Bloody Jesus he was out of practice trying to talk to a woman. Before he could fix himself and say something else he was blessed to hear her soft giggle over the music down the alley.

"Well, if you can't fully be in the light I'll bring some to you. Everyone deserves a little bit of light to enjoy, no?"

After that, no more words were spoken. She reached out palms up and Simon with hesitance placed his hands in hers and their little dance begun.

The woman showed him how to step and where to step when a salsa song came on. He wasn't the best but he did learn fast. She liked that. A few more songs came the same way until one came that made her gasp and squeal almost immediately. This scared Simon into thinking there was danger and quickly looked up and down the alleyway with a glare of a killer, sensing no danger he looked down at the female already swaying to the annoying beat of the music. What did the locals call it? Reggae? Reggaetón.

It was too modern for Simons taste but he was glad to watch her dance to it. This time what he was hoping for did happen. She molded herself against his front, bending a bit at the waist and pressed her full rear against his groin moving like a true dancer. He starred down at it wide eyed not sure what to do or where to put his hands but he remembered what her girl friends did when they were placed in this position.

Simon Riley placed his hands on her hips and pressed himself back into her, moving his own hips as best as he could without feeling embarrassed or even trying too hard but it was futile. He felt a tad bit embarrassed.

Nevertheless she continued to show him just how much fun just the two of them and music, can have. And deep down inside his dark heart he was fully enjoying himself, well up to the point where she straightened out and began that movement of sliding her hands up her thighs and took the hem of her sundress up, pulling out from under his hands.

If she did it on purpose or not didn't matter because he got an eyeful of the black thing string on her hips that his thumb was barley a hair close to. What was she trying to do? Whatever it was he took it as permission. He slid his hands further up her hip and hooked his thumbs under the soft dark material, gently tugging it down.

To say he wouldn't dare grow an erection here would be a complete and utter lie. He was carrying a hard on the whole time she pressed herself against him, he just maneuvered himself enough so she wouldn't feel it but he let her. This time he showed her just how much he was enjoying this little dance of hers.

She didn't stop when she felt the hard long mold of his print against her semi bare rump because she wanted to feel it. She watched him and he watched her, the meant he was interested just like she was. So, why not approach him if he was too chicken to do something. Women can take initiative too. The woman turned her head peering at him from over her shoulder with a smirk on her painted lips. Now Simon could see her eyes, they were dark, like chocolate.

He wasn't a fan of sweets but he'd enjoy hers.

And he could feel the heat practically pouring out from her pores. The way she was suggesting to continue with her hips, he knew all too well. She wanted to be fucked and not just a practical fuck in a motel room but a fuck that that Simon Riley could give right now. They didn't know each others names, occupations or even if they'd see each other again. What mattered was the here and now.

The tall British man had her that night. Bent over the large wooden crate he sat on to watch her dance in the street in her red dress. Now she was moaning like a bitch in heat with her red dress bunched up at her waist with his cock dipping into the welcoming depths of her cunt. He rocked back and forth with vigor, with malice. How dare she seduce him when he was just trying to mind his own business? How dare she approach him and make him sin like this?

Yet, Simon was groaning above her making sure he pounded her cervix. He wanted her to remember this coupling for as long as she lived. Her heels were discarded to the side and she was on her tippy toes, legs spread receiving him so very well. Simon couldn't remember the last time a woman's cunt fit him so well like hers, it was like...it was like it was made to fit him and only him.

The woman in the red dress was dancing no longer. The music may have changed and the people may have begun to head home but she would still be here hidden by the darkness of the buildings on each side of the two beings shielding her from the gazes of people who wondered what that sound was. Simon made sure to cover her mouth if he believed she was being too loud and he was glad he did because she came with shriek into his palm after just a few minutes.

No ones ever indulge in her like this nor have they ever took control in fucking her like a wild dog before. She was always the one to do things for her boyfriends, suck them, ride them, tell them what she wanted done, she was tired of being like that. Being the leading hand in sex because the other person was just too lazy and wanted a quick nut. This man though; was the complete opposite of that.

He took her without hesitation. Didn't bother to ask her of her wants and needs he just somehow knew. He made sure she was comfortable though, made sure she felt every caress, every tug, nip, slap, and flick of him on her skin.

Simon Riley wasn't going to let her go. Not until he had his fill.

-------

The woman stirred awake finding herself starring at the open window, the curtains flowing about with the breeze that entered the dim lit room. So the sun wasn't fully up, good more time to sleep. Before she could close her eyes again she heard shuffling and turned her head to see the British man who rocked her world sitting on the side of her bed getting dressed. His back was all scarred, with old and new ones she made just a few hours ago. His skin was pale compared to her tanned one, looked like he'd be a cherry before he ever tanned. His head was...bare. Simon wasn't wearing his mask.

Well, it was completely dark when they got to her tiny little home a few blocks where his safe house was so it made it easier to keep his face secret while leaving his marks on her skin. Now, it was time to go. He received a call from Price while the woman he laid with slept, on a burner about finally leaving the island in the early hours of the morning.

The woman he spent the whole night with seemed to stretch behind him making a soft pleased sound as she did so. The bed dipped a bit behind him and her arms wrapped lazily around his middle while she rested the side of her head against his back.

As mind blowing as the sex was he couldn't get attached. It was dangerous to drag one good thing into his hectic and bloody lifestyle he lived.

"Simon, stay with me a little bit longer. I'll make you some really good coffee y yo te cocino," Her voice was laced with sleep, hoarse because of her moans and screams the night prior but she still managed to make him shudder in the heat.

There was nothing more that he wanted than to stay and do just that. He was a dangerous man. He couldn't be in the light, because he'd consume it. The ghost shook her off as gently as he could and stood while pulling the mask over his head covering his face again. Walking forward towards a chair she had in the corner of her small room, picked up his shirt and dared to look back at her body covered with a sheet on her bed. Her hair was all askew and she looked more inviting than the night before, it stirred his loins.

His eyes trailed back to her face, her expression was...sad, confused even. She should've know it was a one time thing. He wasn't even native to the island nor was he a tourist with the way he held himself and she knew that. She knew he was dangerous and yet she pursued him anyways.

"It was fun, but that's all it was," He was cold, distant and hardened his emotions. It was for one night only, it wasn't night anymore.

So, he was going to leave her just tike that? After they shared an amazing night? She stood up in bed with her hand griping the sheet to her chest hoping it hid her nakedness'.

"No, no you can't just leave like that Simon, you said you were going to be here for a few more days. Por favor," The woman that was in a red dress was just about to stand from her bed and drag him right back, whatever means necessary even if she had to yell and scream.

"I told you I probably would be here for a few more days, nothing was permanent girl," Now that fully roused her out of her honeymoon like state. It was like a bucket of iced water was poured all over her. Where was his attitude coming from? And girl? He knew her name so why wasn't he saying it?

He slipped his shirt on over his head and made a beeline to her bedroom door, she scrambled out of her bed with her legs feeling like jelly going after him barley catching herself when she tripped. She would never do this for just any man, never would she do this for any man but Simon was different or so she thought.

A memory came to mind of her own mother scrambling after her father when she was only a child. Her mother ran after the man in desperate pleas to not leave and abandon their family, they had little but her mother was so caring. Her father on the other hand was evil.

"Simon! Stop pendejo!" She yelled at him hoping he'd stop but he kept going, moving through the kitchen, the living room before making it to the front door. The woman he spent the night with couldn't keep up with how her legs gave up and made her fall down half way to the door. Her chest ached watching him continue on without a care for her or how she felt.

That night was the only night she's ever felt complete, she felt alive for the first time with anyone and it had to be with this stranger who you barley knew. And that feeling was walking right out of her home.

Simon looked back at her seeing her on the floor with only a sheet to cover her nakedness tugged at his chest. Only for a second though.

"Take care of yourself, love."

And that was the last time the woman in the red dress saw Simon, the tall British man who wore the skull painted mask.

------------------------------------------

It didn't take long for Simon to forget about that night in Puerto Rico, but it always came back to haunt him in his dreams. His mind played movies of the time they've spent together, the hour long conversation before he went at it with her again and again. Colors, foods, places he's been and places she wanted to go to, he probably knew more about her in that hour than any other man could in months. He felt more like a normal man with you for those few hours than he did commanding a small squad. And when darkness clouded his mind your words came to him.

"...Everyone deserves a little light, to enjoy, no?"

It brought him out from time to time.

Recently, the 141 hired a new medic or at base doctor who Laswell says she's the best of the new generation. Finished school in less than eight years and performed eleven successful surgeries within that time frame. Some minor and some major. It was impressive but the information was all the same to Ghost. New doctor, same shit. He didn't even catch her name, didn't bother for it.

Currently, the infamous Ghost sat on a stool in the med bay while holding a cloth to his upper arm trying to stop the blood from making anymore of a mess. Apparently Johnny thought it would be funny to toss a piece of useless metal from the top of the weapons wrack, why was it there? Who knows but he certainly gave Johnny an ear full before he was forced to come here to get it checked out.

The said doctor had her back turned to him when he entered and sat on the tall stool with a leg stretched out. She looked like she was doing something important so he just grunted while she told him to have a seat. Her voice sounded oddly familiar and Ghost couldn't put a face to it.

"Mr. Ghost, no, Simon?" The small looking woman with her dark hair held up with a clip tilted her head reading what little she could from his medical file. There was absolutely nothing here. No medical history, no medication history, surgeries, nothing. It was as if he were a ghost. With a soft sigh she full turned but never lifted her head.

"That's funny, I knew a Simon once. Spelled the same way,"

Simons eyes widened just a fraction when he saw those red painted lips and that golden tanned skin, she was here. It couldn't be. She was supposed to be back in the island living her life in peace. Not here tending to him and his team! Did Price do this? Laswell? No, they didn't know about his escapade with the young doctor here all those years ago. He made sure not to speak wind of it to anyone.

Anger bubbled up inside of him when the shock left him. Was she doing this on purpose? Did he know who he was?

The tall man stood when she was only a foot or more away and she finally looked up from the manila folder, craning her neck her eyes widened seeing the familiar tattooed arm and skull mask covering the face of the mystery man she spent the night with all those years ago.

The folder slipped from her hands and onto the floor, papers scattering about as she starred at him, as if seeing a ghost. And he starred down at her with stone cold glaring eyes of a man who did not want to see her, again.

So, this was the Simon that she'd dream about from time to time? Tall, dangerous, cold and still as mysterious as the day she met him. It couldn't be him. The Simon she met had kinder curious eyes, yes he was cold but that night he made her melt with just a stare.

Quickly she averted her gaze to the side and cleared her throat. No, it really couldn't be...but the tattoo was unmistakable and if not that the mask was a dead giveaway.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath feigning innocence. Turning back to look at him she smiled sweetly," Dios mio, I'm just clumsy today I'm sorry about that. Why don't you have a seat and tell me whats going on,"

So she was going down this road huh? Simon took in a breath and sat back down on the stool keeping his cold unwavering stare on her as she crouched to collect the folder and papers that scattered about. He could have helped her but the less he interacted with her the better. He left her back in Puerto Rico for a reason and this was not that reason.

As she collected her paper work she stood straight up and turned back to her small little desk where a few little picture frames decorated the surface along with some medical instruments. She took one frame in particular and tried to quickly put it face down blocking his view with her body. She was living her life perfectly fine without him, they both were and she would be damned if he found out about her. That early morning he decided not to say a single thing that could help her find him, only his voice and name, it was all she had.

Ghost looked at her and saw her movements. She was trying to hide something and he already was on it. He remained seated examining her backside. She still looked the same, petite, small but she looked fuller now. Hips wider, legs and arms a bit thicker too. It seemed she put on a healthy few pounds while away on the island, or maybe it was due to age? Whichever it was she looked absolutely stunning even with the white lab coat on.

"Sargent found a piece of shrapnel or scrap metal, tossed it back and it nicked my arm," Cold, to the point.

With a small nod she quickly slipped on some black latex free gloves and grabbed what she needed to clean his little nick.

The next few minutes were excruciating between the two of them. The silence felt heavy in the air and the poor doctor felt so burdened by it she felt like she had to say something but refused.

Pretend not to know him. She had to pretend she was just patching up any soldier from the 141 but her body kept reminding her and even her mind reminded her that he wasn't just any soldier. He was of high rank, under Price and that had to stand for something.

Ghost, shifted a bit when she applied pressure on the now cleaned gash which was in fact not a nick, it needed to be stitched shut so she was preparing for that.

"Why are you here?" His question was so unexpected the doctor paused right before she pierced his tattooed skin with the needle and thread.

There were so many reason as to why but it depended on which reason he wanted to hear. Releasing a heavy sigh she tilted her head keeping her gaze on the suture.

"You knew I went to college to become a doctor. Turns out I was very good at it. I stitched nerves together and helped those wounded soldiers regain feeling back to their separated limbs. Laswell thought I'd make a good doctor here for the base or 141 and company, the money was good, the housing was and the education is phenomenal too."

She was still young so education must've have been her second reason as to why she decided to come here but there was still one question in his mind.

"Who's the girl?" The one question that she dreaded. She suppose she wasn't as fast as she thought when she tried to hide it. Simon always looked around his surroundings so her desk was also apart of the surrounding and noticed a small girl no older than three or four smiling with two front teeth missing. Eyes blue, green or hazel, hair almost brown or red. Didn't look like it was her daughter now that he thought about it but again, it was just a quick look.

"She's my niece."

"You have no siblings."

"Step-niece then."

"That's not a thing."

She huffed giving him a look of 'you are unbelievable'. Why did it matter to him who the girl is? When she went looking for him when she found out she was going to be a mother he was nowhere to be found like a ghost. She suffered through out university with morning sickness, cravings of foods she didn't think were even healthy and doctor appointments where only her mother attended with her.

Even after giving birth she didn't give up her dream of becoming a good doctor or surgeon to help people on the island. But when the opportunity arose for her to live in the U.S. she didn't hesitate to take it. And now here she was with the father of her daughter who currently was at a daycare right across the road from the base that Laswell told her it was safe.

Now she wasn't too sure with Simon around.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" She finished stitching up his gash and was currently placed a gaze on his arm and securing it.

Why did he want to know? Was there some hope that he was still somehow connected to this woman he found himself thinking about more than often recently? No, it couldn't be they were careful that night, they...

Then it dawned to the ghost. Slowly he stood up pushing her to the side and marched straight to the faced down picture. There's no possible way that the little girl in this picture could be his.

The doctor already knew where he was going and tired to stop him from reaching her desk by puling on his arm and tried with all her might to stop him but he was too strong and made it to her desk.

The first few rounds, no all of them were unprotected. He assumed she was either on the pill or even doing something to prevent pregnancy while she was out and about dancing away. Who wouldn't with a body like hers? He should've known yet they never talked about it. Not once did the topic of protection come up.

He picked up the frame and examined the child who smiled so happily without a care in the world similar to the woman who birthed her. While he starred at the picture the mother of said child was cursing at him in her native tongue and snatched the frame from him holding it against her chest.

"She's not even yours!" She exclaimed placing the photo down on top of the file cabinet glaring up into the cold eyes of the ghost who leaned forward placing his hand over hers the kept the photo down.

"You're lyin' again love," He said it low and so harsh to her and she flinched. It didn't matter if she was lying or not because her daughter will never know who her father was and her father will never ever get a chance to see her.

"Fuck you, pendejo," She spat out with so much venom Simon was ready to tear his mask off and devour her mouth and swallow every bit of venom she had in the tank. That's the least thing he deserved. He was close, his gloved hand went up her covered arm, her shoulder then up her neck.

Simon cupped her cheek while his other arm wrapped around her waist, she hesitated and placed a hand on his forearm ready to push it off if he said something or did something really outta pocket. Though she couldn't lie, she missed how close he could get without really trying.

Even if it was one night, she could never forget him.

"She's ours isn't she Amilia?"

She had to close her eyes because the intensity behind his were too much. This answer could either make or break their future relationship if there ever would be one. But deep down she knew that if she were to say 'yes' he'd step in or at least try to.

Simon knew it was his fault for leaving so suddenly but it wasn't anyone's fault he wasn't there or that she didn't tell him. The universe made it so that they could meet again under these circumstances. A deadly father and a bright mother. What a strange combination.

"Yes, Simon. She's... ours."

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PART 2

A/N

Ya' liked what I did there huh? CLIFFHANGER!

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