#almost died while making this

[luvvsoft]

can u make fanfic based off of mats curl up & die🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

pairing: kamisato ayato x reader

contains: angst, past relationships, forbidden love, cheating, arranged marriage

word count: 1.8k

There was a time you'd worship the ground Ayato walked on. Times that were simpler than now: times where you and Ayato were in love. That was long gone now, leaving only an empty space in your soul that wished for the love of your life back.

You met Ayato as a kid. Your parents were simple retainers of the Kamisato family. They were always working, yet they made time for you — their only child. They took you to work, hoping you would follow in their footsteps as it seemed as the best option for you. There you saw a young Ayato.

“Don’t stray too far from me lest you make a mess!” Your mother shouted after you.

You heard her, but your mind didn’t register what she said, instead focused on playing. That seemed to be the greatest mistake you’d ever make. Though, at the moment, it felt like the best.

“Look at how high my kite can go, mom!” You said while running and feeling the wind.

“It’s so fun, thank— ugh” You stopped abruptly, feeling another body collide with your own, and there after falling to the ground.

Your mom caught up with you, taking a moment to sigh at your antics, “I told you not to be careless, now you’ve gone and bumped into another. Apologize.”

Your mother heard no more from you— only silence. Looking below you, she saw Ayato.

You watched as her expression morphed into horror and she began spewing apologies while helping you up, “Lord Kamisato, please forgive us. We meant no harm.”

She forced you to bow and set your eyes on the ground, but you peeked— watching as Ayato stood and whispered out a soft “it’s alright” before leaving.

It’s safe to say you got scolded that night, but it was a core memory for you. You experienced the childhood a child should, not weighed down by the expectations of others or clan obligations, something you couldn’t say for Ayato. You thought of him regularly, wishing to get closer to someone your age in a world where all you had were grownups. You wish you could go back in time to change that.

You wish you never gathered the courage to go up to Ayato that fateful day. You wish you stayed where you were, 14 and weighed down by the exceeding expectations of your parents.

Yet another party, you dreaded these. They were only a waste of food and space, a place for rich people to do rich people things as your mom caught you saying multiple times and proceeded to scold you.

You had nothing to do during these times, but stand around and help anyone who asked, but you made sure your face guaranteed no one would. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you got hungry— your stomach begging you for some food you turned down earlier that day, too busy cleaning.

“Hm, I don’t think anyone will notice if a fruit or two go missing,” you whispered under your breath while heading towards the kitchen, determined to stuff your face with more than a fruit or two.

The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were standing like a statue. You entered it and immediately, your nose was in scent heaven. Everything smelled and looked so good; your mouth could just water at the sight.

You wasted no time and grabbed a plate, grabbing anything you saw and digging in. As you were stuffing your face like a starved pig, someone walked in. That someone being Ayato, catching you eating when you should be working.

Yeah, you were getting fired.

“Who are you?” Ayato said calmly, watching as you quickly swallowed your food and tried to speak.

You were done for, scrambling to come up with an answer while trying to not get your parents in trouble, “Uh a guest?”That totally didn’t work, you were getting kicked out.

Ayato eyed you, trying to assert if you were lying, “Guests aren’t allowed back here, come.”

You followed him, albeit ready to say goodbye to this world. You were sure he knew you were lying, and if he told your parents, you would never see daylight till you were 75.

“Where are we going?” you managed to ask while walking behind him.

“As the son of the Kamisato clan, I feel it is my responsibility to show you around since you’re a guest.”

You couldn’t believe he believed your split second lie, “Huh? Really?” You came to a closed off part of the estate, only knowing it because it was the most tedious when it came to cleaning.

“No,” Ayato said while taking out his sword, “Start talking.”

“Well, that took a turn,” was all you managed to get out before being pinned to the wall and getting his sword pointed at your neck.

Ayato gave you a look, and you took that as your cue to start talking, “Okay okay, I’m just a maid, nothing more, nothing less.”

He seemed to lower his guard for a split second, but then pressed you for more, “Go on.”

“Uh? I just work here I guess?”

You could tell he grew annoyed of you, putting his sword away and getting ready to walk away.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted at him before he left.

He turned around, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“Walk around with me.���

“Why?” he asked, once again turning around.

“Take it as an apology for bumping into you when you were younger, plus there’s no one here that’s my age.”

He did end up walking with you, even if it wasn’t for long, you still enjoyed it. It felt nice to have someone to talk to that could understand you.

You kept talking after that, meeting in the gardens while butterflies fluttered in your stomach. As you grew older, your friendship evolved. Small chats grew into late night talks, walks together turned into you holding his hand, light, fleeting touches turned into you running into his arms.

That all changed when he turned 17. His 17th birthday came around, and your world came crashing down that same day.

You were walking with him in the gardens before he had to go perform his duties. “Hey, don’t work too late today. I still want to spend time with you, after all, it’s not everyday you turn 17.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’m all yours after the evening. I only have a meeting with my father.”

“Hmph, I hope so! Your father likes to hoard you all day sometimes,” You said while pouting at him.

Ayato chuckled, taking your hand and turning you towards him, “You’re so cute you know, so charming too even with your tantrums.”

You gazed into his eyes, falling deeper into the blue abyss the longer you looked. Instead of dignifying him with an answer, you hugged him, burying your face in his chest while he pet your hair.

As you were about to finally respond, you heard your mother’s voice, “Lord Kamisato, your father calls for you.”

You separated, then hugged him again, wishing him a good day after you knew you wouldn’t see him till later tonight.

Ayato left soon after. You turned towards your mother, only to get a disapproving look and a few words.

“Prepare for tonight, dear.”

Meanwhile, Ayato finally reached his father’s study, composing himself before stepping in. He wasn’t surprised to see another person in there besides his father, but what did surprise him was that it was someone unfamiliar.

“Ayato, I want you to meet someone.”

Meet someone he did. He met his future spouse, someone of the Yashiro Commission. Of course, this came with being one of the big three names of Inazuma.

You were inconsolable after he broke the news to you, choosing to stay in your room and ignoring him. It wasn’t his fault, you knew, but what could you do? What could he do?

You were content with being Ayato’s, even if hidden from his family. Ayato was planning to tell them; he said he would, but of course, that was no match when it came to his father’s words.

You should have never been greedy. Now, he was the only one who made you want to go home and cry. He made you feel alive, now even that was ripped from you.

There was a time it was only you and him, but the morning after his birthday, he could be seen with his soon to be spouse. To be wed after his 18th birthday.

Ayato knocked on your door a few days later, hoping this would be the day you answered. Of course, he was wrong once again, you never did open. The only person you let in was your father, not even your mother.

He wished you opened, maybe he could have told you how much he still loved you and how hard he was fighting his father to be with you. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like he was losing the love of his life.

Maybe if he knew you saw them kissing, he would know why you never opened.

Soon enough though, trying to talk to you would become the least of his worries, as his parents had died. He was forced to mature and look after the devastated clan, even as his heart called out to you, pleading you to hold him in your comforting embrace while whispering consolations in his ear.

You blended into the background after or maybe you left. But by the time Ayato got to you, he had lost you.

He couldn’t find you anymore, and asking your parents drove him nowhere. Your mother never approved from the start, so she saw it as a good thing that you two had broken up, but your father, he knew where you were. He just refused to tell Ayato.

He had lost you, and now by his father’s dying wishes, he had to marry another that he didn’t love.

The wedding between them was extravagant, nothing falling short of the Kamisato title. Many gathered, watching as the clan leader too got married.

You, on the other hand, got notice of the wedding through your father’s letters. Even if it was a week late, it still managed to break your heart — tearing at the pieces that were holding on by a threat.

He had sent photos by your request, and you could tell they were in love, deeply. Maybe deeper than the love you shared. You were happy for him; he deserved better than a simple maid from a simple family.

You had officially lost Ayato. He was never yours to begin with, never yours to keep, only yours to love.

There was a time you’d kill for Ayato. Now, recounting those painful memories made you want to curl up and die.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 247

Danny grumbles, going limp as the Spirit plucked him up, holding him out like some sort of stray cat. Their golden eyes stared across him, white hair shimmering and bloodied feathers rustling as they tilted their head. 

“You sure he’s not somehow ours?” Bludhaven asks again, setting him down once more to circle. Amity laughs, wild hair the color of wheat fluttering in a non-existent breeze and portal pulsing like a heart as she rests a hand on his head. 

“Well darlin’, I am asking if you would be open to adopting,” the Spirit laughs, the sound as familiar as the birds outside his window in the mornings. “Well, I suppose I could always ask your dear sister Arkham-” 

“No no, I would be honored,” Bludhaven smiled a literally sharp grin, something mischievous and violent about it in a way Danny was slowly growing used to. “I’m just- look at the little ghostling! He looks like he could be from ours! My hair, your eyes… he’s just missing markings…” 

“Markings he’ll get once you give me an answer darlin’...”

“OH- Yes, of course! Sorry, I got whelmed there.” 

“You have been stalking your vigilante a bit too much there Blud.” 

[happi-dreams]

I watched electric dreams finally !!!!!

It’s so good and odd but ohshdkebdkwbdhmehdh EDGARRR !!! EDGAR I LOVE YOUU !!!!!! ! ! ! ! YOU DESERVE BETTER !!!!!

When I saw the ending I SOBBED what the HELL,,,,,

[shroomerr]

Oh, help me God, this hellboy got me coming back for more

reblogs super appreciated !!! close-ups under the cut !

[aro-arttorneys]

Happy "it wasn't christmas yet!" to those who celebrate 🥳

[lowpolyshadow]

forced to once again remember how shadow is laughing when he says "i think i figured out what the ultimate lifeform is! it might be you!"

[willyhoos]

metamy is insane. like.

what if i was the hero you loved gone wrong. defeated and destroyed. rebuilt as my own greatest enemy. what if i lost everything. what if i had been reprogrammed to despise all i had once fought for. what if i couldn't even remember why i had fought at all.

and what if you were made of roses. what if you represented every beautiful thing i once died trying to protect. what if you wore flowers in your hair and cared for small creatures and had eyes the color of the forests i used to call my home. what if you were everything i once loved.

those memories are just out of my reach. infuriatingly. maddeningly. but if anyone knows who i am (who i used to be) it's you. if anyone can make me feel like who i used to be (who i really am) it's you. i can't speak, i can't breathe, i can't remember anything (but you).

you are the world i have been ordered to burn. i am the weapon you have chosen to resist. i was (am) the hero that you loved.

you are my only memory.

i will do anything to make you believe me.

[kradogsrats]

@dragonprincedrabbles prompt Harrow + Damian, Breathe

—

A particularly nasty cold works its way through the castle, the first winter after they move in. Even Sarai gets the sniffles, though fortunately no more than that. Being sick and six months' pregnant would be truly miserable.

Callum stays healthy, thanks to diligent hand-washing and restriction from the areas of the castle where germs are most freely spread, but he grows moody and standoffish. He was already struggling to adjust, obviously feeling like an out-of-place guest in the castle and seeing Harrow as more like a distant uncle than a stepfather. Sarai knows he needs time—the only way encourage growing into a home and family is to allow the space to do so, and then step back. She just hates seeing her son unhappy.

Then Claudia, the one playmate he's truly grown close with, gets sick enough to spend a week in bed, and he starts acting out in ways he never has before. Not even when Damian was dying.

Harrow spends most of that week with Viren, who is understandably beside himself over his daughter's condition, mild though it is. Once she's undeniably on the mend and Harrow's able to escape, Sarai shares her own frustration and worries about her son. Always thoughtful, he suggests that they go to the lodge—there's a blanket of fresh snow on the ground, and a change of scene and activities will do Callum good.

It's a fantastic idea, one Sarai is embarrassed she didn't think of herself. Of course, she's not exactly used to having an entire lodge to retreat to for relaxation.

The first few days go better than she could ever hope—he and Harrow sled, build snowmen and snow banthers, and have snowball fights more epic than any Border skirmish. Sarai joins them sometimes, though she feels a little too pregnant for some of the more vigorous activities and is content to watch from inside, sipping hot cider. Callum runs to her pink-cheeked and laughing when they come back inside, happier every day than he has been in weeks. In the evenings, he falls asleep on the couch, nestled between them as Harrow reads aloud in his deep, soothing voice.

Then the castle cold catches up with Harrow.

Sarai suddenly finds herself caught between overseeing regular deliveries of hot soup and honeyed tea to her husband and near-constant tantrums from her son. Everything becomes a battle—getting up in the morning, what food he'll eat for any meal and when, putting on warm clothes before going outside, baths, bedtime. After a particularly bad fit over wanting to go ice skating—it's not cold enough for Sarai to trust the pond's ice without it being checked—she gathers him up into her lap for a talk.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she says, rocking them both gently back and forth while he snuggles in her arms. "I can tell you're having a lot of big feelings—are you sad or mad that Harrow can't play anymore? Do you miss the castle?"

He shakes his head against her chest, but says nothing.

"Did something happen that scared you? Have you had bad dreams?"

Callum hesitates, then buries his face in her shirt, clinging to her. "I'm sorry, Mom," he says through fresh tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry—"

She shushes him soothingly, stroking his hair. "I'm right here. It's okay to be overwhelmed. You haven't done anything wrong."

He takes a hiccuping breath. "But I did! I—I wished that King Harrow would die, so we could go home. I just wanted everything to be like it was before, with Dad. Now he's—I don't want him to die!"

He's crying hysterically again, and Sarai holds him tight. All the pieces suddenly come together—this year's cold takes root in the chest, leading to a wet, hacking cough. Harrow's coughing fits, while already subsiding, had been loud and frequent for the first few days. Loud enough to be heard from nearly anywhere in the lodge.

She and Damian had kept the worst of his condition from Callum, but not everything could be hidden, especially if Damian was to have any kind of life in his remaining time. So Callum saw when he coughed convulsively until he strained to breathe, air barely wheezing in and out of his lungs. Even if that wasn't the case, he'd heard his father's labored, rattling breaths at the end.

"Oh, sweetie," she says. "He's not going to die, I promise. He'll be just fine in a few days."

Callum shakes his head wildly, clinging to her. "I'm sorry," he sobs again.

"It's okay," Sarai soothes him, rubbing slow circles into his back. "It's okay, Callum. Sometimes, when we're angry or scared, we think or say things we don't really mean. There have been a lot of big changes, and that can feel scary and unfair. I wish we could have done things differently."

She swallows around the lump forming in her throat. "Your dad—I was angry and scared for a long time, when we found out how sick he was. I was angry that he wouldn't get to see you grow up, and I was scared of what life would be like without him. I had a lot of mean thoughts about people who I knew loved me, and were only trying to help. I didn't let those thoughts take root, and I know you won't, either—you'll breathe, and let them out."

She inhales deeply through her nose and exhales slowly through her mouth, repeating until Callum was breathing with her. His crying slows as he relaxes.

"Harrow can't ever replace your dad, but whatever he becomes to you, I know he loves you very much." She hugs him close, smiling when he hugs her back. "How about this? We can toast some cheese sandwiches and bring some soup up to him for lunch, like a picnic. He'll be happy to see you."

Callum nods, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Sarai pokes it lightly. "Then, if the Crownguard say the ice is safe, we can go skating."

"Maybe, instead of skating," Callum says tentatively, as he hops down from her lap, "we could play a game from the game room this afternoon."

So Harrow can play, too. All of us together. She smiles, levering herself up from the couch. "That's a wonderful idea, sweetie. Go pick one out, and I'll start the sandwiches."

She's still smiling as he scampers off excitedly, and she heads for the kitchen. Lunch and games with all three of them, together—it looks like they just might be becoming a family.

[cracklewink]

sketch dump of my epic furry oc (and boyfriend

[soulless-bex]

was listening to music while driving, as one does, when my brain, the silly little thing goes:

wouldn’t it be funny if dick grayson killed the joker (who stays dead because he deserves to be) for killing jason and goes through a whole breakdown over whether or not jason would approve of what he did, ultimately deciding that no, jason the happy robin would not be happy with his big brother, no matter how strained their relationship may have been before his death, killing a man out of revenge

cue jason as red hood, pre identify reveal, asking nightwing about what happened to the joker (because of course bruce had it covered up, because in his twisted little mind, a vigilante permanently taking out the mass murderer who is singlehandedly the number one cause of death in gotham would break the gothamites’ trust in them). nightwing admits, because since the joker is dead jason doesn’t have a reason to push the dramatics as much, he’s just fucking with the bats and keeping crime alley safe, and jason has his turn at a breakdown because he just found out someone actually avenged him

emotional reunion. everyone is happy. the end.

[casualavocados]

You look better this way. What way? Nothing. I couldn't get a hold of you for days. Did you work undercover in the school and help Zherui investigate?

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 08

[sonknuxadow]

for the most part i think powerscaling sonic characters is pointless and theres no objective answer to most questions of who is stronger or who would beat who in a fight because the truth is that the answer to those questions will always be determined by what works best for the story being told . however. it does kinda bug me when shadow is portrayed as significantly more powerful than all the other characters and people (whether it be official writers or people in the sonic fandom) act like none of the other characters stand a chance against him in a fight or whatever because thats just demonstrably not true. i mean yeah hes the ultimate lifeform but that doesnt mean everyone else is weak and powerless compared to him

[dreamerdrop]

A momentary apology to everyone who followed me thinking I was a cute magical girl and occasional Alice in Wonderland blog.

[lunairka]

“The Fall”

-

Closeups, different versions and more under the cut!

HOH BOY. THIS PIECE PUT ME THROUGH ACTUAL HELL. The LENGTHS I had to go to get this done man. BUT NOW ITS HERE. ITS DONE. Anyway, I had to watch The Fall on repeat in order to make this, and I think that I’m completely mentally destroyed from that! The things I do for you all <3

-

Despite everything, I’m still really proud of how this came out, and I hope you all enjoy!

[jonathanarcher]

I have now thought about Henry Archer more than the writers of enterprise ever had

[tathrin]

I was thinking about the weirdness of LaCE and the whole sex=soul-marriage thing again (as you do) and a thought struck me:

what if the way it works in cases of assault (or is believed to work by the elves; in this case it doesn't matter if it's actually what happens of just what they think) is that you don't end up with a full-on bond, no, but you do get bits of connection, like hooks stuck in your soul from the other person(s)?

And—if we run with the worst interpretation of the Celebrían situation—what if that's what motivates Elladan and Elrohir to be so determined to hunt down every single orc in Middle-earth?

If Celebrían left because she couldn't bear the feeling or thought or those orc-hooks in her soul (or the ptsd flashbacks and trauma that made it easy to assume the stories were true, and that's what was happening to cause her misery) and hoped that crossing the Sundering Sea would cut them off, or at least blunt them and let the scars heal...

Well, the twins know that you can't really sail back, of course they do. They know!

But Glorfindel did. And a whole host of elves came once, during the War of Wrath. So it's not that nobody has, ever. (They can look up and see their grandfather sailing in the sky every night, out of the Undying Lands. Maybe somebody could hitch a ride...?)

If they can make Middle-earth safe for her again...well, maybe she won't come home. But at least then she could, if a chance ever came to leave and cross the Sea again. She could.

And even if she doesn't, at least when they Sail*, they can tell her that they slew her nightmares, finally.

And maybe that will be enough.