#Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.

[flakyheart]

[litandlifequotes]

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it's dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.

The Rose That Grew from Concrete by Tupac Shakur

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part II)

Yang occasionally remembered the first time she met Harlan Wade. It had been shortly after Summer died; Dad had completely collapsed, Yang herself barely struggled to hold on, and Ruby had gone from an almost normal little sister to something else. In fact, it had been immediately after… Well, the incident with the beowolves.

Being that she was ten at the time, Yang hadn't been told exactly how Harlan Wade had come into their lives; only that Harlan Wade, Dad's and Qrow's and Summer's and Her old teacher from Beacon could help them. That he knew what was… What was happening to Ruby.

The former professor of Beacon Academy had invited them to his home. He first spoke to Dad, and whatever was said behind those closed doors had shaken Tai Xiao Long enough that he still didn't want to speak about it, although Yang could take a few guesses.

Then Harlan spoke with Yang.

Harlan Wade had stared down at her from across his desk, looked Yang in the eye, and, not caring that she was ten at the time, spoke of the things that had begun to happen since Summer died. The hysteria and terror at invisible monsters. The nightmares which would make Ruby scream in a way that made Yang’s blood turn into ice. The whispering that seemed to follow her little sister, speaking terrible things to those around her. The sense of something being horribly, horribly wrong…

Then, his voice cold and hard, he began to talk of everything that was yet to come. He spoke of nightmares being set loose in the waking world, of red-rimmed shadows tearing at wood, stone, concrete and metal as if it were nothing. He told her of Ruby looking at her as she would a monster, a thing born of her darkest thoughts and deepest fears and most hidden secrets. He told her that Tai and her would find their minds pulled in certain ways, that rage would come at them without warning, fear would sink it’s fangs harder, grief would drag them deeper and deeper…

He spoke to them like a prophet of legend, speaking with such an apocalyptic certainty that it was almost like he was remembering the future.

(Or, in this case, as if he were simply remembering. Again, Yang had a few theories.)

Harlan had asked Yang a question when he was done. Maybe it would’ve been a complicated question for other people, but for Yang it had been very simple.

“Are you going to take care of your sister?”

After all, there was only one answer.

And so, Harlan had told Yang how to best take care of her sister. She wouldn’t lie and say that some part of her hadn’t resented the man for telling her how to do what she was already doing, but she grew to appreciate the tools and advice he’d given her.

(It would be another lie to say that Yang didn’t like Dr. Wade himself, in a way. Oh, the man was an asshole through and through, but there was an honesty to dealing with him. He didn’t bullshit you, or coddle you, or try to convince you that everything would be fine. And yes, he kept more than his fair share of secrets, and Yang wasn’t stupid enough to believe that him coming into their lives had been a coincidence, but when it came to the things that Yang actually cared about, he’d been straight with her since day one.)

One of the things Harlan had taught her early was how to treat a close brush with Ruby Rose.

Step one: Distraction.

"You know," she drawled, "You look a lot taller on television, Ice Queen."

Weiss, who had been staring at the middle distance for a moment, blinked.

"… I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah," Yang continued, gleefully ignoring the tone of voice, "I kinda figured you’d be somewhere around here,” she gestured somewhere a couple centimeters over Weiss’s head, “and that’s with the heels, mind you.”

Weiss blinked again, and Yang could almost see the heiress’ train of thought being sent off a cliff. She counted down in her head. Five, four, three, two-

“I’m not- I’m not short!” Weiss snapped, “I am of perfectly average- where did that even come from?!”

“Just an observation, Ice Queen,” Yang drawled, in a tone of voice older sisters had perfected over generations to be the most annoying.

“And don’t call me Ice Queen.”

“Right, my mistake, Princess.”

Weiss straight-up glared at Yang for that one. Yang just smiled back; she was pretty sure Weiss could scatter people with a look, but she’d grown up around Ruby Rose.

Weiss kept up the intimidation for a little longer, and then slumped in defeat, turning away.

She muttered something under her breath.

“Hm?” Yang went, “You said something?”

Weiss gave a sharp exhale of breath; a noise equal parts frustration and exasperation. “I said, at least it’s not “Schnee”,” she told Yang, voice flat, “I’ve had enough of that for today, thank you.”

“Oh.” Oh, right, Weiss and Blake’s little partner spa-

Wait.

Oh.

Oh.

Yang ruthlessly suppressed that from reaching her face, along with the urge to facepalm for not realizing that the moment Blake showed her her ears.

“Yes, 'Oh',” Weiss said, with more than a little bitterness in her voice, “I imagined I’d managed to outrun my name in Vale, but, apparently, I was wrong.”

The heiress sighed. “What bothers me is that I can’t seem to figure out why she’d be so angry with me,” she said, with such earnestness that Yang was shocked it didn’t cause her physical pain. Some of that must’ve shown, because then Weiss added, “And yes, I know my family has made more than its fair share of enemies along the way, but most of those are in Atlas.”

And the Faunus Quarter, Yang added, and Menagerie.

She wondered if this is what Ruby felt like when she had to keep one of her psychically-acquired secrets

[madamlaydebug]

Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared. -Tupac

🥀

[wetcatspellcaster]

This is very random, but I felt that I had to share. When reading "Pieces", I'm always reminded of a poem by Tupac Shakur that I've always loved, called "The Rose That Grew from Concrete".

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?

Proving nature’s laws wrong it learned to walk without having feet.

Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

hello anon, I firstly just want to apologise for the delay in answering this, I read it in a stressful period and I misunderstood it as a song lyric you wanted me to check out!

thank you for sharing this with me, it doesn't feel very random at all. I'm very touched, actually. I know I've spoken before about how Rosalie was my pandemic OC, and the circumstances out of which she was born as a sort of thought exercise/comfort character when my own mental health was struggling but so was everyone's around me. as such, even if this is based in reading Pieces, it feels very relevant to her entire existence. thank you xx

[1solone]

Bury your past. Let flowers grow where you lay. Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack

in the concrete

Proving nature’s laws wrong it learned 2 walk

without having feet

Funny it seems but by keeping its dream

it learned 2 breath fresh air

Long live the rose that grew from concrete

when no one else even cared!

[agrayson]

long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared 🌹🖤🥀 -2pac

[alanshemper]

long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared 🌹

crazit3st shit I've ever seen. got so excited I almost brought it home withbme

[thug4life44]

"Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared."

[kozyarchives]

The Rose That Grew from Concrete

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete

Proving nature’s laws wrong it learned 2 walk without having feet

Funny it seems but by keeping its dreams it learned 2 breathe fresh air

Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared!

Tupac Shakur

[heavyhitterheaux]

Arch Your Back (NSFW 18+)

A The Rose That Grew From Concrete Fic

AN: arch my back for Urban? You don't have to tell me twice 😏 

This has to be one of my favorite Urban fics I’ve ever written so let’s get to it!

Synopsis: putting your boyfriend in "yoga positions" for a tik tok video only leads to him wanting to blow your back out

Pairing: Urban Wyatt x Singer!Reader

Requested by my bby @blackenedsunflowers 😘💕 hope you like this!

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU AREN’T 18+

It had been awhile since you had seen your boyfriend since he had been on tour with Jack and you were on tour yourself. The Facetime calls just hadn't been cutting it and you found yourself a little sad and longing for his presence.

You were in Philly, and had three shows in a row. You were sleeping peacefully when you woke up and felt a pair of strong arms around you and had been up ever since not wanting to lose a minute with him even though you were exhausted.

As much as Urban was trying to get you to go back to sleep at least for another two hours, you weren't budging.

All you were currently concerned about was kissing him all over his face and playing in his curly hair.

"Babe, I'm not going anywhere. You can go back to sleep and I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

"No. I missed you too much and I know you won't be able to stay with me for a long period of time so I'm soaking this all in."

"Hmm, I know something else is probably soaked too but..."

Without warning you quickly got out of his embrace and straddled him making him smirk and grab a hold of your hips.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Take a nap because you're going to need it baby girl. Haven't seen you in a month and we goin multiple rounds and you're going to need all your energy. Go to sleep."

One thing that you admired about your boyfriend is the way that he truly cared about your well-being. Past relationships left a bad taste in your mouth. But Urban?

He was different.

A good different.

You let out a huff but complied as he flipped you to the side so that you could lay on his chest.

"Sweet dreams, my baby."

When you woke up, Urban was nowhere to be found leading you to roll your eyes at the empty spot on the bed next to you.

You snatched the comforter off of you and then went into the living room area of the suite in search of your boyfriend.

You spotted him stuffing a fry in his mouth and looked startled upon seeing you with your arms crossed.

"Urby..."

"Baby..."

"Did you get food without me?"

"Uhh no." He quickly answered before swallowing and coming over to you to kiss your forehead.

"Nuh uh. Are those McDonald's fries?!"

"Yours would have been cold!"

"You know that you always wake me up for food!"

"I'm about to make it up to you later."

Suddenly an idea popped into your head about a trend that was going around that you saw on tik tok and wanted to try it out on your boyfriend.

Urban knew that you did yoga as something to help calm your nerves from time to time so there was no reason that he wouldn't fall through your trap.

"Hold on a minute, babe."

You left Urban looking confused as you went to grab your phone.

Once you came back, you pulled up the app in order to get ready to record.

"Urby baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What you need mamas?"

"I found some new yoga positions to try and I want for you to try them out for me."

Urban got a confused look on his face at first before shrugging.

"Okay, babe. What's first?"

You tried not to laugh as you decided to put him in one of your favorite positions first.

"Okay, on all fours."

"Hmm, okay."

"Now arch your back."

"Like this?"

"Nope, more."

"How's this?"

You stifled a laugh before answering him.

"That looks good babe, but now reach your arms straight out and look back at me."

"Whaaa? Okay."

You wanted to laugh so bad, but decided against it.

"Okay now stand up for me."

"Mm hmm."

"Do a split."

"Babe, what? What makes you think I can do a split?"

"Come on Urbannnnn."

He rolled his eyes but listened to your directions.

Once he finally got down there, he looked up at you to see what he had to do next.

"Now, bounce up and down."

"Y/N, what kind of yoga move is this?"

"I forget what it's called. Now one more."

"Let's hear it."

"Lay on your back and hold your legs in the air."

"These positions don't sound right but okay."

"Now, spread your legs."

"More."

"More?"

"More!"

"Got damn."

"Perfect!"

You now busted out laughing not being able to contain it anymore. The camera was still going as Urban put his legs down and looked at you confused.

"Baby? Thank you."

"Anything for you mamas now why are you laughing?"

"None of those positions seemed to be familiar to you?"

"No, I don't do yoga?" He answered you as if it was a question.

"Oh, but you can use those as sex positions for your girlfriend?"

Urban's eyes suddenly went wide before looking at you in disbelief.

"Babeeee!"

"What!?! Those just happen to be my favorite ones that you put me in."

"You know what mamas?"

"Yes?"

"Turn the camera off."

"Wait, what?"

"NOW."

Urban then grabbed a hold of you and roughly kissed you sending your body into a frenzy.

"Alright mamas. Since you like to play games we're doing every single position that you put me in earlier. Imma blow your fucking back out."

"Hmm, what's first?"

"I shouldn't have to even tell you. Get on your knees and arch your back."

You weren't wearing anything other than one of Urban's shirts so once you peeled that off of you there was nothing but easy access forgetting you added yet another piercing which quickly caught Urban's attention.

"Babe!"

You forgot to mention that you got bored a few weeks ago and went to get your nipples pierced knowing that they would send Urban over the edge.

"You like them I take it?"

Urban then reached down to take one of them in his mouth and then gave the same attention to the other one making you become breathless.

"Damn mamas I'm about to have fun with these. But for now I'm going to need for you to get on that bed and get into my favorite position."

You smirked and took your slow sweet time walking in front of Urban.

Once you were back in the bedroom, you slowly approached the bed before placing your palms on it and leaning forward.

As you climbed higher, you could feel your juices starting to cascade down your thighs and you were giving Urban the perfect view instantly making his mouth water.

"Fuck, baby."

By this time, Urban's clothes had been long forgotten and he was waiting for you to get to the top of the bed.

"Nuh uh mamas. Stretch those arms out in front of you. Don't act brand new."

He stroked himself a few times as he was admiring you and you did as you were told.

You felt two fingers slide in you without warning.

"Urby, I want your dick, not your fingers."

"Patience, baby. Let me admire this pussy and take it all in."

Not even a minute later you felt him slide into you and you immediately clenched around him.

"Shit, baby you feel amazing, but if you keep clenching me like that I know I won't last long."

"Sure you will. Mm, faster baby."

"I literally just slid into you. Give me a second and what I tell you about being patient? I know you missed me, but damn."

"Less talking and more movement please."

"I'm really about to tear your ass up."

Urban then increased his pace and was now pounding into you and you began to grab anything and everything near you to keep yourself anchored.

All that consisted of was bed sheets and pillows.

"Fuckkkkkk."

"I know you not trying to run from me mamas. You wanted me to go faster and you can't even take the shit?"

"Oh, shit. Ohhh, shit."

"Come on baby. That's my good girl. Fucking take it."

"You like when I take you like this mamas?"

"Mm, yesssss."

Urban then reached down to massage circles on your clit which he also noticed now had jewelry dangling from it.

You forgot about that one too.

"You been acting out since I've last seen you huh?"

You quickly shook your head no as you felt the familiar pressure build in your lower stomach.

"No, I haven't." You responded while trying to catch your breath.

With your new piercing, the increase in pleasure was out of this world.

"Oh, fuck. Babe, I..."

"I'm not about to slow down if that's what you were about to ask me."

Urban then increased his pace and him rubbing your clit sent you over the edge. All that could be heard was you letting out an ear piercing scream and squirting all over him and him releasing in you at the same time.

"Damn, did I just make you squirt?"

You were still out of breath, but Urban gave you a few seconds to recover so that you would be able to answer him.

"Hmm, shut up."

After you came the first time, Urban slid out of you and quickly flipped the both of you over.

Urban was now laying underneath you with his hands resting behind his head.

"You know what's next baby."

You had a look of confusion as you were still trying to come down from your high.

"I'm waiting for you to ride me."

"My legs..."

"Hmm, don't think I asked you that nor do I care."

As Urban answered you, he thrusted up into you and you placed your hands on his stomach.

One wrong move, Urban was going to slip out of you because of how wet you were.

"Damn, baby. It's like a slip n slide. I got you this wet?"

"Hmm yesss." You answered him as you increased your pace and he reached up to place one of your pierced nipples in his mouth and sucking.

You then wrapped your arms around Urban's neck and you knew you were getting close once again.

"Baby, I'm about to..."

"I know, me too. Come on mamas."

Urban then met you halfway and with three more thrusts, you came all over him.

Without giving you a chance to recover, he flipped you over and immediately slipped into you.

“Urb, baby. I..”

“Nah, mamas. Don’t tell me you can’t take it because you can. You can give me one more mamas. Come on.”

One thing about you is that you weren’t a quitter and you were going to see this all the way through.

You thought about how you needed and wanted to soak in all of this time with your boyfriend since you didn’t know the next time that you would see him. As sad as that made you, you pushed it to the back of your mind to focus on the task at hand.

“Urbannnn. I...”

“I can tell you’re almost there. You’ve been such a good girl for me.”

“Deeper, babe.”

“Oh, little miss who says she couldn’t take me anymore wants me to go deeper?”

“Yesss!”

“As you wish baby.”

You then wrapped your legs around Urban to bring him closer into you to get a better angle.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

And that was all she wrote.

You squirted all over him again and a mix of that along with his cum was now splattered across his stomach.

“Damn, two for two. I just need to figure out how I got you to squirt.”

“Well, we have a few days, don’t we?” You asked as you sat up and licked a trail of Urban’s cum off of his stomach before leaning up to kiss him making him instantly get hard again.

You already knew what that meant.

“We do and fuck that was hot. So, imma need for you to sit on my face, NOW.”

Taglist:

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[charlietheepicwriter7]

High Priest, Pt. 2

From “The Many Akumatizations of Luka Couffaine.” 

The class was, for the most part, silent.

No one knew what to feel after yesterday, Juleka included. It was… Everything was fine, they were all hanging out, and then Lila mentioned that Marinette got out of trouble for bullying her, which was horrible, and… and…

Juleka didn’t know who pushed Marinette. She just knew that someone did. No one goes from backing away from a hoard of angry teenagers to crumpled at the bottom of concrete stairs by the Seine by yourself. And then Lila had said, 

“Wow, I can’t believe she’s faking being hurt. She has a lot of nerve after pushing me down the stairs. I didn’t make such a big deal out of it.”

And they all just left her.

But Marinette wasn’t faking. She’d seen it in Luka’s face when her parents had called him, saying that Marinette was in the hospital and that he needed to come, as her boyfriend (her boyfriend, Luka was her boyfriend, when Lila had told them Marinette had bullied her because of Marinette’s jealousy over how close she and Adrien were-). And now… 

And now…

The class was silent. 

Who was the guilty one, Juleka wondered. Not Lila, she had stood at the back of the group while they accosted Marinette. Not Adrien, who hadn’t gotten involved and hadn’t defended Marinette, a true neutral that wasn’t neutral at all. Not Chloe, who wasn’t even there and chatted away with Sabrina without a care in the world, unknowing or uncaring about their hospitalized friend. But Alya, but Nino, but Kim, but anyone… 

There was a murderer among them. 

A sharp trill of their phones went off, all of them at once. The akuma alert. Alya, who already had her phone out, was the first to shout. “There’s an akuma at Arc Hospital!”

Juleka paled. (“I’m going to Arc Hospital! Tell mom not to wait for me!”)

“Apparently it can transform the environment,” Alya gushed, like her best friend wasn’t in danger. No one noticed Adrien leaving with a rushed excuse about the bathroom - they were all used to his weak bladder by now. “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen an akuma do that before!”

“There might be a sentimonster along with it,” Nino pointed out. “Maybe on the hospital itself, and that’s why it transformed.”

“Oh, that makes more sense!” Alya replied, already packing up her bag. “I’m going to head to the sight; someone has to document the akuma!”

“I’ll go with you,” Nino said. 

The two were heading out the door, nothing too different, when Lila spoke up, shakily raising her hand. “C-Can I come too?” she asked. “It’s just… I’ve been so worried about Ladybug lately; akuma’s have been getting a lot stronger, so I just thought that I could be there for her, cheer her on?”

Alya looked nervous. “Well, actually-”

“That’s a great idea!” Rose gushed, like they didn’t have a friend in that specific hospital. “I’m sure Ladybug will defeat the akuma with her best friend by her side!”

“Yeah!”

“Hey, we should go too!”

“Ladybug will certainly feel empowered if an entire class cheers her on!”

“Sure. She’ll probably end up needing Queen Bee, if the akuma is that powerful.”

We shouldn’t do that, Juleka tried to say, only for the words to get stuck in her throat. Did they see that they were putting themselves in danger, potential hostages for the akuma? But no, they were blind. Lila led them like lemmings, encouraging them, saying “Yes, of course Ladybug would love that, we should all go!”

That’s how, despite her instincts, Juleka was forced into going to ground zero. At least she wasn’t the only one disliking the situation. Both Alya and Nino looked put out for some reason, and Chloe was just unhappy in general. 

The hospital had been transformed into a temple. “Aztec,” Rose whispered as they all stared up at the pyramid. “It looks… like those pictures from that research project Luka was doing.” Juleka nodded and suddenly had a horrible feeling about who exactly the akuma was. The stone looked rough, the mica a sandy-grey. Pictographs were carved into the stone, unlike any Juleka had ever seen, with each image growing more and more graphic in violence as the class climbed the pyramid together. They all… looked like people, she noticed.

The truly concerning factor, however, was the group of people that gathered at the bottom of the pyramid as the class trekked upward. But no one else set foot on the temple. They were utterly alone. 

There was only one entrance into the temple, a wide, gaping mouth of a door. Fire flickered inside the opening. Alya gave a shaky smile as she readied her camera. “Well, I guess we’re expected, right guys?” Her attempt at a joke fell flat as the class inched into the temple. 

The inside was covered in carvings, intricate and beautiful, painted and bright. Most of them depicted a beautiful dark-haired woman with a crescent moon on her forehead being worshiped. Was she the akuma? Some woman with a god-complex that turned the hospital into… this? Torches lined the walls, throwing dark shadows across the paintings. “They look like they’re moving,” Nathaniel whispered, enthralled as the class spread out, everyone looking around the interior. 

Alix frowned. “It doesn’t look very Aztec to me.”

At the center of the room was a glass altar. Or, more accurately, as Juleka approached it, a glass coffin. The frosted glass concealed the content’s identity at a distance, but up close, Juleka realized it was… “Marinette?”

That got everyone’s attention. Shocked gasps and exclamations filled the room. Alya pushed her way to the front. “What? No, it can’t be…”

Nino looked at the coffin nervously. “She can’t be akumatized, can she?”

“Of course not!” Alya spat back, coming to the defense of her comatose best friend. “She’s too strong to-”

Lila clung to Alya, cutting her off. “She was probably so upset that I revealed she was bullying me!” She wailed, the sound grating in the echoing expanse of the hall. “Oh, it’s all my fault that Marinette finally got akumatized!” For a moment, Juleka thought Lila sounded… vindicated? What?

“Cease your lies, Defiler of this hallowed place. -A strong, male, familiar voice boomed out, seemingly from nowhere-“Lest your accursed tongue wound the ears of our slumbering Goddess.”

From the shadows immerged a blue figure, dressed like a stereotypical Aztec priest. His skin, mostly his bare chest and face, was covered in black tattoos, like the line of triangles under his left eye and over his right. He wore a large, jeweled necklace that sparkled in the fire light, and feathers, dark blue and pink, trailed out of his short hair and down his back, past the linen skirt he wore to cover his modesty. 

It was obvious at first glance that the akuma was Luka. 

What was also obvious was the large, ceremonial knife in his hand. 

“Rejoice, heretics, non-believers, and renouncers of the faith,” the akuma said, looking down on their class with cold rage. “The day has come at last to join our Goddess in everlasting peace at her side. For I, the High Priest, have been given the sacred duty of awakening the Goddess of the Moon, the Melody of all Hearts, the Ever-Resting Queen… and it is with your blood that she will live again.”

Rose trembled at Juleka’s side. “Our… blood?” she whispered.

“Correct.” He could hear them, oh no, oh no… “Either through service or sacrifice, it matters little to me. Though my Goddess may wish for you to bleed through service, I care not so long as the blood is taken.”

“You…” Alya growled, then snapped, pointing at the High Priest. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will defeat you and save Marinette, you fiend. And if you think any of us are joining you, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“So, you have chosen death.” The room grew darker, the torches dimming. The High Priest’s eyes glowed neon blue. “Then may my Goddess have mercy on your fleeting soul…

“For I will have none.”

Taglist: @larasilvestris   @vixen-uchiha    

[madamlaydebug]

“Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.”

— Tupac Shakur

[damn-stark]

Four walls

Newt x reader

A/N- 😩

Warning- fluff, swearing, ANGST, sadness

Requested by anon “can i request a death fire imagine where the reader gets the flare instead of newt? thanks !!”

———-

It’s funny how life works. At one point in life everyone longed to escape the four walls that kept you incarcerated and hidden from the world nobody remembered, only recalled by fleeting dreams.

And now there was nothing more you wanted but to be dreaming, wake up in the same four walls that at one point you hated to see and wished that they would've been blown up.

There was nothing more you wanted, but to wake up to early calls insisted by Gally, the smell of fresh breakfast, the laughing and loud booming voices of all the boys you grew to love as family; and Newt. He was like family, but he had grown to be so much more than that.

And actually now that you thought of it well, you wanted to experience just one more early morning; where Newt would wake you up just a couple minutes before the sun rose to climb the wall and watch as the sun rose and beautifully casted on top of the maze. Anything beat watching the blacks veins caused by the flare slowly begin to branch out all over your arm, bringing doom closer with every stretch.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Newt's voice broke through your silence, pulling your gaze away from the rising sun.

You show him a smile and nod, “I’m doing better,” you assure him, watching as he took a seat beside you on the ledge of the building. “But I actually don’t really regret anything I said about Teresa. She is a backstabbing bitch...just don’t tell Thomas.”

Newt chuckles and watches you turn away as he keeps his eyes on you, the amusing smile he had fading away until it was nothing but a worried frown. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you lash out like that. Not even when Gally would piss you off.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you clench your fist, hesitating for a moment, unable, or really not wanting to reveal the truth of the dooming fact you were hiding. But knowing you had to, it was inevitable.

“I,” you pause after the first word uttered, shifting your body to completely face him, lifting your injured arm and slowly lifting your sleeve to reveal the truth. “I guess I can’t hide this anymore.”

Newt’s breath hitches and you see as his body stiffens at the sight of the black veins under your skin, covering the both of you in a silence that grew a quick tension neither of you seemed to break for a moment as he tried to think of what to say first and how to feel. His eyes showing the battle that brew in his mind until he finally dared to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug, “I didn’t think it would’ve made a difference, plus I didn’t want to worry any of you.”

“We can still fix this.” He interjected quickly, “Thomas can. He helped Brenda and she’s fine now.”

“Don’t worry about me, this is about Minho. Now he needs us. So if there's the slightest chance that we can save him, that we can get him out of there. We have to take that. He comes first. No matter what the cost.” You explain as you reach for his hand.

He hesitates, looking down at what you were trying to do, leaving his hand stiff for another long moment that soon made your assuring smile begin to fall. Causing you to insist again, tilting your head down so you could look into his eyes.

“Promise me, Newt. He comes first. Please.”

Again there was long waiting silence that made you think that he wasn’t going to listen. That for the first time since you’ve known one another that he wasn’t going to respect your choice.

But thankfully you were proven wrong as he took your hand and nodded in agreement. “I understand.”

A small smile breaks through your features and you scoot yourself closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder to both sit in a comfortable silence that was enjoyed as you looked up to the city behind the walls.

——

Plans had gone awry, which led to Thomas, Newt and you to continue on improvising as you went along in search for your lost friend.

Maybe that’s what you all get for trusting Theresa.

You were trying so hard not to be so judgemental towards her now that you were nearing death, especially since she had helped. Somewhat. But it was hard to view her as anything else but as a backstabber. Specifically now that you were face to face with a guard pointing a gun at the three of you. Remembering that none of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t spoken up. That Minho—

Suddenly someone comes sprinting down the hall, shoving the guard to the wall and expressing a loud bellow as he threw the guard through the glass. Finally turning after he calmed to show that it was, Minho.

Without a second thought the three of you rushed towards your friend, pulling him into a quick group hug that he followed to respond with a question. “Is this real?”

You grin and nod, not being able to respond before more guards rushed down the hall and pointed their weapons at all of you; forcing you to make another quick escape down multiple halls, getting you tired by the minute and by each sprint. The quick breaks, like the one now, were no help whatsoever and only caused you to tire more, feel the flame course faster through your body.

“Any ideas?” Minho asked Thomas as he, Newt and you walked further away from the door Janson and crew were trying to break through.

Thomas turned to all of you and shared a quick, hesitant answer, “maybe.”

——

“This is a horrible idea!” You exclaim while you’re watching the tank Thomas threw fall several feet down the building until it crashed in the water below, not assuring you one bit whatsoever.

“Okay this is doable.” Thomas assured the group and himself. “Just need a little running start.” He walks back and Minho, Newt and you meet each other’s nervous glance.

If you had to die, crashing into the concrete ground was better than turning from the virus that was poisoning you.

“You’re sure about this?” Minho asked as the rest of you walked back towards Thomas.

“Not really.” Thomas admitted.

You scoffed, “nice pep talk.”

“Yeah, bloody inspiring.” Newt remarked before the door was burst open, forcing you not to hesitate any longer and run towards the broken window to jump out and fall hundreds of feet down towards the ground. Feeling as if your stomach was going to your throat at the feeling of your body being pulled down by gravity, every gut wrenching feeling crashing into the water as you landed with a loud splash and new found annoyance towards Thomas.

“Never again.” You groan to Thomas as Newt helps you up to solid ground, “am I letting you—”

“You four, don’t move!” A guard cuts you off.

Thomas sighs, “you’ve got to be kidding me.” He then reaches for something behind, but hesitates as the guards call him out, inching closer as they did, instructing you to go on your knees until one of them shoots its other fellow guards. Making you gasp and step back.

Only to see Gally come up.

Making it the last and only time you were actually thankful to see him.

——

“Darling, how are you feeling?” Newt asked as he stood before you.

Letting out one last violent cough towards the ground, you lift your head and groan, “terrible, but it’s good you’re here.” Your eyes drift to the murmuring trio of boys, noting their eyes drifted away the moment you looked. Giving away an obvious indication. “They’re talking about me aren’t they?”

Newt looks over and takes your hand, “maybe, but I assure it isn’t anything bad.”

You manage a weak smile, “please be careful with Thomas’s crazy ideas, okay? No more jumping out skyscrapers.”

Newt chuckles, “don’t worry we won’t.” His smile falters as Thomas comes to you.

“Hey, y/n, come on, we have to get you up, let’s go.”

Both boys help you to your shaking feet, struggling as you fumbled forward, unable to keep yourself on balance or actually walk without their help.

Your head hurt and your chest felt as if someone was gripping onto it with a mighty hold. Your legs felt like they were numbing by the minute, or like you had no control over them. Nothing felt right,

The explosion that hit miles away didn’t even affect you like it should have. Your mind and body wanted to give in when you didn’t, you kept fighting along, moving with the boys as they pulled you along towards the now raging city.

“All right, y/n, we’re almost there.” Gally assured you.

You shake your head and cough again before you struggle to speak, “just...leave me.”

Before any of the boys could talk back, another explosion cuts them off and stopped you in your tracks for a long moment that then revealed a flying chopper in the sky.

“Okay. That’s them! That’s them. We have to go!”

Thomas and Newt tried to pull you up again but you refused, “just leave me.” Another cough escapes your mouth and this time blood spits out, turning your breathing shallow and quick.

“Minho,” Thomas called, “you gotta run ahead, grab the serum and get back to us as soon as you can.”

Minho narrowed his gaze on Thomas at the sound of his other idea, not saying anything but looking. Letting Newt insist as well.

“Minho, go.”

Gally nodded, “he’s right. I can cover for you.”

Before Gally leaves, he shoots one reassuring look, leaving you to turn to Minho before he leaves too.

“Thank you. Thank you, Minho. It’s nice seeing you again.”

He smiles and grabs your shoulder, “hey, you just hang on you hear me.”

Before long he gets to his feet and runs away with Gally. Leaving behind Newt, Thomas and you. With every moment feeling yourself slip more and something else possess you. Bringing darkness and pain and a short time limit to live.

“Hey! Hey! Y/N! Hey!” Newt and Thomas snapped you back to your surroundings.

“We’re gonna try this, okay?” Thomas urged, “we gotta move, now.”

Newt grabs your arm and begins to pull you up again, “let’s get you up, come on.”

“No, no, guys stop.” You yell, “Just go, I’m just dead weight. Please.”

Newt eyes gleam with tears and he shakes his head as Thomas does, grabbing your arms again to only keep fighting. “You got to give me everything you got. You and us, right now. Let’s go. You ready?”

Swallowing thickly you nod, feeling them lift you to your feet again. Dragging you along the broken and raging city. Only feeling every minute cost more, take more, robbing you from everything you had left, the battle fought within, losing with each breath taken, your life, sanity, hanging from the string of Newts last words.

“I love you, okay? Ever since the moment you came up in that box. I love you and I alway will. Time with you was never boring. I want you to know that.” He cups your cheeks and tears stream down his face, “and I know I couldn’t help you in time but I wanted too I really did. I’m going to miss you so much,” he cries, trying to smile through the pain, lifting his gun as discreetly as he could, “and until we can see each other again, it’s okay to let go. Just let go. Think back to us when we would sneak up to the wall to watch the sunrise, okay? Just let go darling. Let go....”

~

“Come on, let’s go. A little further.” Newt called over his shoulder, a smile spreading on his cheeks, one that seemed to glow through the darkness of the night.

You groan, “we’re going to get in trouble, y’know. Gally is really going to put it in us. He might even throw us to the maze.”

“Stop you’re whining, you’re basically there.”

“Hmph,”

Nonetheless you keep following up the wall, not questioning the ladder he had built or why you were coming here. Yet.

Not until you got to the very top where you gasped and stood in awe as you saw every inch of the maze you were stuck in; every line, dead end, every wall after wall.

“W-what are we doing up here?” You gasp, turning to meet his gaze, “are you pushing me down the maze?”

Newt scoffs, “no...just sit down and wait.”

Without hesitation you do as he says and sit down with your legs dangling over the wall, breathing in to say something, but stopping as the break of dawn cut you off. Leaving your lips parted in awe once again. But this time unlike the moment before, enamored with the view of the sun hitting the top of the walls; the way the sun gleamed on the walls surface and the sun rays began to kiss your bodies as it slowly began to rise more and more.

“This-this,” you stutter, still gawking over the view, “it’s amazing!”

Newt reached for your hand and watched as you turned to meet his gleaming gaze, “told you it'd be worth it.”

You grin warmly, “you did.” Scooting closer to him you rest your head on his shoulder and keep a hold of his hand. “Promise me we’ll come here again.”

Newt rests his head on your head and whispers, “I promise.”

[ally-127]

Since it's a "kiss day" in Korea could you please write a fluff of jeonghan asking a kiss from you

june 14th

pairing: dad!jeonghan x mum!reader word count: 1.7k warnings: swearing, a little bit of marking, suggestive material music: ‘stay gold’ by bts a/n: THERE’S A MINI JEONGHAN IN THIS i’m sobbing i don’t know how how i came up with it but meet yoon jooyoung, jeonghan’s kid.

“mum! i’m going to be late!”

you groaned at your son’s voice. you loved him to bits but sometimes things could get a little rough on your end.

“yes i know, i’m sorry,” you told your seven-year-old son, jooyoung, who wobbled out of his bedroom with his bright yellow backpack already slung around his little shoulders.

“my friends are going to be mad at me,” his pink lips formed a pout, closely resembling that of his father. “i’m gonna go now,” he vanished past your front door.

“wait for me!” you quickly threw on a coat and grabbed your phone before the little man could dash out of the apartment alone.

you bumped into your neighbour in the hallway—you believed his name was hoseok—a kind man about your age and found that your son had his tiny fingers clasped onto his hand. it seemed hoseok didn’t seem to mind, a lively smile stretched across his face from the boy’s sudden gesture.

“ah, i’m so sorry,” you murmured to the man and quickly tried to pry your son away, but he grumbled and almost threw a fit. you staggered backwards, taken aback.

“this guy told me he’s going for a sleepover at his buddy‘s house nearby,” your neighbour looked down at your son, an endearing look on his face. “i can take him there, if you don’t mind. i’m about to head to the grocery store anyways.”

“mum’s always busy,” the pout remained on his face, sulky personality inherited right from his father like a copy-and-pasted text except it was his array of genes.

you sighed. “i’m not busy today, i can take you. no need to trouble ahjusshi.”

“but mum,” jooyoung whined, throwing his hands up and bottom lip trembling.

“what is it?” you crouched downwards so you were in level with him. you took his free hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his small ones.

to your huge surprise, he leaned in and pressed the biggest, sloppiest kiss on your cheek.

“happy kiss day, mum.”

at this point he was a direct clone of his father. the fact that even his cheeky grin looked like your husband made you melt into a puddle on the concrete floor.

he giggled. “hang out with dad when he comes back, mum. you’re always at the work and you never hang out with him when he’s here anymore,” he then pulled you in closer so he could whisper, “give dad a kiss today.”

at that you turned bright red, heat crawling up your neck. your son had just indirectly told you that you did not show enough affection to his dad—your husband—and it left you a lot of questions.

mind you, he was only seven.

in addition to that, your neighbour had just witnessed this entire notion.

“did i just hear the word ‘kiss day’?” a familiar voice questioned from behind you.

it was all too familiar to the point that you felt relieved, sometimes longing, upon hearing it.

“dad!”

you rose up from your crouching position, watching jooyoung unwrap his hand from hoseok’s to run into his father’s arms.

jeonghan let out a laugh, only filled with warmth and joy from seeing his son after a month of being away, as he lifted jooyoung off the ground and cradled his son in his arms.

“hey, son,” jeonghan’s dark hair swept across his brow as he looked at his son, eyes sparkling as he did.

“i missed you,” the boy gave his father a tight hug.

“i know, i did too. more than you know.”

for once, you were third-wheeling jeonghan and jooyoung. hoseok was too. but he remained unbothered, face like a blooming sunflower as he witnessed a father and son reunion.

“where are you going, buddy?” jeonghan eyed the boy’s backpack as he finally let him down

“sleepover,” he grinned. “at my friend’s house.”

“which friend?”

“i’m not telling you,” like a typical seven-year-old, jooyoung snickered.

finally, your husband looked at you. however, it was not in the form of greeting. it was rather in the form of confirmation that your son would be okay in this arrangement of a sort.

you nodded, jerking your chin at hoseok, silently telling jeonghan he’s going to be the one taking him there.

“why aren’t you the one taking him?”

“because—“

“it’s a secret!” your son yelled and tugged on his dad’s sleeve.

getting the signal jeonghan bent sideways so jooyoung could whisper in his ear just like he did with you.

it was almost comical, the way a grown man’s expression could change because of a few words a little boy had whispered into his ear. jeonghan was now smiling ear-to-ear, the signature scrunch of his nose prominent, pretty eyes now fixated on you instead.

“okay.”

“yay!” jooyoung scuffled back to hoseok, but before that he gave you a hug, as big as a seven-year-old could give. “see you later, mum.”

“ready to go?” the kind man asked him.

“yup,” he took hoseok’s hand and they disappeared into the corner where the elevators were.

that left you alone with jeonghan. you two remained standing six feet apart from each other, suddenly feeling nervous as if it was your first date.

he smiled at you, at your flustered state.

“hi.”

it was all jeonghan needed to say to have you falling into his arms the way your son did earlier.

“fuck, i missed you,” he buried his nose in your hair as you threw your arms around his neck.

“i can say the same,” you murmured, drowning in the musky scent of his cologne, a deeply personal scent you’ve gotten used to and a part of jeonghan you missed dearly whenever he was away.

”let’s head inside, shall we?” jeonghan said, minty breath brushing against your ear.

you hummed in agreement, heading over to unlock your front door and hold it open so jeonghan could drag his suitcase in.

“thanks,” he pushed it to the side and let the door fall shut behind him.

his eyes were still designated on you, the expression behind them expecting as he watched you take off your coat and hang it beside the door.

golden sunlight, warm and buttery, slipped through the blinds of your apartment. it highlighted the refreshed glow from within his skin. whether it was from happiness or an updated skin care routine, you didn’t know but he looked better than ever.

“are you hungry?” you swerved his gaze, wanting to know how long you could draw this out. there was a game you wanted to play, and jeonghan knew it extremely well.

your feet padded into the kitchen before you could stop them, increasing the distance between you and your husband.

jeonghan shook his head in response, leaning his hip against the kitchen island to watch you grab both him and yourself a glass of water. he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing the stretch of muscles on his forearms.

tension was very well present in the air and you both were aware of it. regardless of that you two chose to ignore it.

“how was tour?” you asked, setting the glass down in front of him.

“it was fine,” vague. like the answers he would give you whenever you didn’t give him something he desperately wanted.

you chuckled. “jooyoung is exactly like you.”

“what do you mean?” the smirk that quirked by his lips showed that he knew exactly what you meant.

“you give me unsatisfactory answers when i don’t give you what you want.”

you round the kitchen island, toward him. you circled your arms around his neck once again, clasping your hands together. his invigorating smile mirrored yours, his hands reflexively shifting to support the small of your back. you tipped your head up to meet his eyes.

“so tell me, yoon jeonghan, what is it can i do for you?”

“kiss me,” he mumbled after a moment. “you heard our son, it’s the national kiss day today and—”

you cut him off with your lips, his words muffled by them. a grunt left his lips from the impact, jolts of electricity running up his spine. he spun you around without breaking the kiss pressing your lower back against the hard edge of the island. jeonghan braced his hands on the hard surface of it and trapped you with his body.

“do you know what jooyoung told me?” you told him once he pulled away for air.

“what?” he grinned at the sound of your son’s name from your lips.

“he said i should hang out with you today,” you recalled the words your little boy whispered into your ear. “and told me to give you a kiss.”

“you don’t do that enough,” jeonghan teased and kissed the tip of your nose.

“which?”

“both,” gently, he moved down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“i don’t kiss you enough?” you raised a sceptical eyebrow along with the corner of your lip.

“twelve years and i’ll still never have enough of it,” his mouth tackled yours once again.

it didn’t take him a second for the curvature of his lips to mould into yours. the shape of yours was imprinted onto it, a muscle memory claimed by you and you only.

the air around you grew warmer, his breath now becoming yours with each kiss. one arm around your waist and the other under your jaw, he held you close to him.

his tongue, like the tease that he was, swiped across your bottom lip. with one arm he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island so he could stand in between your legs. his hand reached behind to cup your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

“hannie, what are you doing?” you held him back with hands on his shoulders.

“kissing you,” he shrugged like it was nothing. “what else?”

“liar.”

“i can’t kiss with tongue now?” he’s pouting and god did he look like jooyoung.

“you can,” you pecked him once, twice. “i just forgot that we’ve got no one watching us now.”

“it’s daddy’s day off,” he tilted his head to your neck, beginning to suck marks of purple and red on your skin. his fingers toyed with the hem of your shorts. “it’s time to make you feel good.”

you arched into him, digits tugging on his hair to lure out a low, desperate growl from his lips. wetness pooled in your panties from the sound alone, and you wondered how you were going to be able to handle the rest of him.

“shall we make jooyoung another sibling?”

[its-not-a-pen]

and the peregrine wept

A lost child wandering the desert encounters a phantom of the past. It’s a redemption of sorts.

-------

The Master had a voice like thunder, and he wielded a shock-baton like the god’s own lightning bolt. All who lived in his domain trembled when he passed.

The Master took his wine at the same time every evening. Red, Coruscanti-imported. it occupied a pride of place on the top shelf. The child had to stand on a rickety stool to reach it—shoulders straining against the heavy burden of the jug. The child had never learned how to read, but her nose was keen and she had learned quickly under the buzzing of the shock-baton.  

She poured and served as methodically as a alter-attendant, careful not spill even a single drop. The Master was not a god; he was far crueler and more capricious. A blow for a look. A lashing for a word. The child had not yet seen ten winters, and already her tawny back was covered with stripes.

But the Master did not know everything. Like how even a worm could turn. Or that rat-poison could taste as sweet as sugar.

After the last dregs were drunk and the death-throes had ceased, the child took up a shard of glass and sliced the tracking chip out of her leg. Her eyes were dry and her hands were steady. The Dark guided her, whispering a song of blood and power. The Dark was her friend, it would never hurt her, never abandon her. She fed it all of her rage and anguish, and the more she gave, the more she had to give. She fanned the flames until the whispering became a roar and the agony of her leg joined the burning in her heart. The Dark would make her big and strong. Bigger and stronger than anyone else. Nothing would ever hurt her again.

The desert nights were always cold. A welcome respite from the scorching heat of day. Many lingered outside, guards and slaves alike, faces tilted skywards for a favor from the breeze.

With her eyes squeezed shut—least their brilliant yellow glow betray her—the child flew down the streets as swiftly and silently as a shadow, navigating the twisted warren by touch and memory alone. She called to the Dark, and it enveloped her like a cloak, becoming her eyes and ears, whispering warnings of every passing threat.

Only after the stench of garbage and fumes of exhaust had faded into the distance, and the concrete beneath her feet became the dry silk of sand, did she open her eyes.

Gazing about her, the wild wonder of the landscape struck her dumb. She had never been this far out into the Dune Sea before. The city was but a faint, dusty mirage far behind her. Great smooth-backed hills rose and fell like frozen waves, glowing blue under the moon’s lights.

She would die out here when the sun came up, she realized. Swallowed up by the desert. Doomed to wander the endless, undulating landscape until thirst claimed her. No one but the buzzards would mourn her passing—and only for the pitiful meal her bones would eventually provide.

She could not turn back. She could not go forward. Dread and desperation clawed at her throat. She tried to call out to the Dark —but there was no-one to fight and nowhere to run—and so the Dark stayed silent.

She had fought so hard and come so far, and now her first taste of freedom in half a decade was to be her last.

Succumbing at last to exhaustion and pain, the child fell to her knees and laid her little horned head upon the sand. There was nothing so terrible in the world as the sound of a child weeping quietly—they did it not for attention but because their heart was breaking.

How long the child lay there, she did not know. But nothing in the universe was infinite, not even suffering. Gradually, her sobs petered out and gave way to numb silence. As she lay there on the ground, eyes cast hopelessly skyward, the most extraordinary thing happened: a pair of the largest stars suddenly winkled out of existence—and then reappeared again. Eyes. She realized. Two eyes were staring down at her.

Ignoring the screaming pain in her leg, she scrambled to her feet, fangs bared in warning.  Before her, there stood a single, hunched figure, as thin and bent as an old tree. The child stared and stared, her eyes enormous. The figure’s head was horned, just like hers. His eyes were luminous and yellow, just like hers, but they were brighter than any she had ever seen—lit from the inside as if by a blazing fire. He must have been a mighty hunter once, such bright eyes were a sign of the Dark’s favor.

Slowly, the bent figure uncloaked himself from the Dark and the child grew not afraid. The Dark around him sang to her, so softly and sadly, of forgotten homes and lost family. Of wasted years and deep, deep regret. Of being lost and found.

“Hello, Grandfather.” She murmured politely, recalling the half-forgotten words of her mother-tongue. It tasted strange on her lips, as if stale from disuse. She sank back on her hunches, nursing her injured leg. Her head spun. In truth she could not be sure if she was awake or dreaming. Keep reading