#despite the agony and heartbreak

[potato-awesome]

apparently my brain associates the magicians with good brain chemicals and happy times. who would've thunk?

[sytoran]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 || mdg pt. 5

timelines and lifelines have torn you and natasha apart, but the two of you are bound by the child you have created. though subjected to earth, loki, god of mischief, dangles the possibility of a future with natasha by making you a god.

pairing: goddess!natasha x mortal!reader (not for long)

note: this is the 5th installment to the goddess!nat universe, as per the 4k celebration! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains depictions of violence. this series is 18+ only.

word count: 1.8k

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Previously…

Your relationship with the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff, comes to a screeching halt. Torn apart by timelines and lifelines, you’re not coping well, and neither is Natasha — especially when she finds out she’s pregnant with your child.

On the other side of the universe, Loki, God of Mischief, breaks into your apartment to offer you a deal. Worse still, he eats your leftover pizza.

Now…

When you come back to consciousness, you feel like you’re floating. Not in the whimsical, psychedelic cocaine-induced way, but in the Help-I’m-Physically-Suspended-In-The-Air way. 

And it is true, much to your demise, because despite the fruitful hours of work spent in the gym, your arms and back can’t quite handle the excruciating pain of being strung taut like a rope.

Against the will of every screaming cell in your existence for you to fall the fuck back asleep, you forcefully sit up and open your eyes.

It takes about two seconds for the headache-worthy hangover to sink in, and three seconds for you to regret every godforsaken decision you had made the night prior.

Last night- oh, fuck. Last Friday night. 

(No, this isn’t going to entail a radio pop song with a curly black-haired Katy Perry, because the only curly black-haired one in this story is the God of Mischief himself. Both equally as sassy, but expounding on that would fracture the entirety of the space-time continuum.)

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

Speaking of the devil (quite literally), Loki forces you to bring your blurry gaze up to the cocky expression painting his angular face.

“Fuck you,” you spit, dry and hoarse, memories surging through your teetering consciousness. All you were aware of was the mother of your problems was the man himself.

Now, you were suspended like a puppet in your very own living room, strings of golden magic encircling your body, keeping you stretched to the edge of insurmountable agony.

“Funny,” Loki says dryly, eyes raking over your pathetic form. “That’s exactly what you said last night that put you in this position.”

You would’ve laughed, truly, if not for the ache in your ribs and your back and your– you get the point. “You offered me a proposition,” you comment, licking your cracked lips with distaste. 

“And you said ‘fuck you’ and threw up three bottles worth of alcohol on my ridiculously expensive snake-scaled shoes before promptly passing out from your hissy fit of a heartbreak.”

“Deserved.”

“I will hang you upside down.”

You roll your eyes – however much you can roll them in this position. “You gave me an offer. That means that I had a say in this, and I certainly did not consent to take part in this BDSM-worthy fantasy of yours.”

Loki scoffs at this, shifting in his seat. Your seat, actually, his black robes draped over your armchair like it belonged to him. 

“My sex life is none of your business, and more than often entails men,” Loki begins, putting a finger up. “The only reason I’m taking interest in a hopelessly lovesick woman-lover is because you have something that I want.”

You exhale roughly, lungs and ribs screaming in protest. You weren’t of a godly status by any means, but based on his identity and the fact that a God was lurking around Earth, you were competent enough to figure out what he wanted.

“You wanna get back to the land of the Gods,” you state, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Like me, you’ve done some shit that made SHIELD put a target on your back. Except it’s ten times worse, considering you’re a God. That’s why you’re here. What you want is connections, because I have – I had – a relationship with Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha.

It pains you, to even put it in the past tense, that what you had with Natasha would only ever be history.

“Oh wow,” Loki responds, acting shocked. “There’s actually more to you than this himbo attitude you exude.”

You don’t give him the pleasure of a response to his provoking, despite your incessant need to sucker-punch that face of his. But uncovering his plan has that layer of composure slipping, for a second, and you delight in it for what it’s worth.

"Put me down first," you say instead through gritted teeth, looking up with a ferocious glint in your eyes.

"Say yes first," Loki answers promptly, folding his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied grin.

"Put me down and or I won't consider your absurd request," you try again, a wracking cough making your stomach lurch in pain.

"Funny you think you're in a position of power," the arrogant god taunts. "Who's to say I won't torture you to the brink of death until I get what I want?"

"...Who's to say I'd eventually break?" you say finally, narrowing your gaze. You sure as hell were scared as fuck, but you had to survive. "Threats only work on people who've got something to lose. I'm forbidden from ever seeing the love of my life again – I've got nothing to lose, y'know? No amount of torture will get you what you want."

Your little speech of sorts, delivered with an unwavering tone despite the pain coursing through your body, plays out perfectly. Loki's gaze is unreadable as he contemplates upon your counter-proposition.

Unceremoniously, you're dropped to the ground, hitting reality with a grunt of pain. “Shit,” you wheeze, clutching at your ribs with sore wrists. “Warn a girl, man.”

Loki waves you off dismissively. “The pain won’t matter anymore.”

“Wait,” you struggle to say, reaching out to nothingness as the man closes his eyes and raises his hands to the lands you once roamed.

It’s only then that you realise you’re surrounded by candles, so many candles. You’re in the center of some kind of ritual board, and what you assume are ‘offerings’ circle you.

From skulls to black flames, you know something is wrong. Very wrong. Loki is muttering incantations under his breath, a language beyond your human tongue, and the pressure in your room rises to an extent that forces you downwards.

“What,” you ask, exhaling roughly against your cracked ribs. “What kind of God am I going to become?”

Your question goes unanswered, lost in the swirling black flames that surround you. Loki’s eyes open again, and this time they are completely black. He begins a chant, crafted from an inhuman tongue, a language you’d never heard before.

That’s when the pain starts.

You scream, brain waves throbbing, a loud ringing sound echoing in your ears. Psychedelia takes over your conscience, producing images all around you, dark and distorted and everything you thought you’d buried.

“ибяѓюгэю юдякиэҁ, эиѫч ҩ рэд.”

Unbridled darkness, enemy of peace.

Natasha’s face is at the forefront of your mind, unblemished and happy and everything you’d ever wanted. You reach out, spluttering and breathless, trying to grasp that wistful memory like it’d materialize in front of you, like she could ever be yours.

“бцэт юҩщи ҩцядрҩи дю ғдг ҩця ҩиэҁ.”

Put down your weapons and fall to your knees.

Her face gets shattered into smithereens, scattered throughout the dark swirls of your mind, overtaken by shadows. Horrifying screams and flashes of a graveyard overwhelm you, and you yell through the misery for the love of your life.

“тҩ фэн тнэ юэҁѓяэ ҩғ џэиəэдисэ lə'”

To quench the desires of vengeance and rage.

Fury slugs through you, as you crawl away from cold hands that pull you back. “No!” You yell, but your voice is not yours anymore. The only thing to describe what you feel is chaos, darkness creeping in from the shadows, a slithering worm into your ear, a rotting carcass and the stench of carrion.

“ҩҁэ бҩиэҁ сдҁт ҩғ ҁсчнэҁ дию бдюэҁ.”

To see bones cast of scythes and blades.

The world snaps from reality, and you get flung into a different dimension. This place you’re trapped in is unfamiliar. You’re standing on a pile of dead human bodies, and there are ghouls and demons cheering your name. Blackness seeps through your veins, infiltrating your mindwires. 

“Revenge,” you spit, a devilish noise, and the cheers rise again.

You scream, as black wings tear through your back, ripping your collared shirt and spreading towards the sky. You launch from the depths of whatever hellhole that may have been, an inhuman screech echoing around the void, soaring towards the heavens in search of the one you’d lost.

“ҩѫэҩя, гдск-щѓəэю юэџѓг, эт ндҁ иғцяг”

Come forth, black-winged devil, let chaos unfurl

Upon descending on holy ground, unfamiliar faces intrude into your mind, prominent and unmistaken. Backlogged information begs its worth — God of Thunder. Goddess of Magic. God of Science. God of Justice. 

Then one word rings above all, high and mighty, and the darkness of your mind clears to reveal the people that had taken your Natasha away.

SHIELD.

“энҩгю яҩѫ нэг, ҩю ҩғнэ Циюэящҩягю.”

Behold from hell, Ruler of the Underworld.

Reality drives into your side like a thousand semi-trucks, bright and flashing, and then you’re back in your living room. You stay on the ground, all-fours, spluttering and gasping for air. 

Natasha.

Black wings flap behind you, resplendent and marvelous. Those had been real.

Arising from the ground, gone is the fear in your eyes. No more shreds of hope. No more sense of justice. Your blackened eyes burn red, searching for Loki. He stands in the corner of the room, and he seems so much smaller now, compared to you and your bloodlust.

“She was mine,” you growl, dangerously, fearsome and inhuman.

“She is yours,” The God of Mischief answers, marveling at his creation, for there was nothing that could stop you now.

***

“Rockabye baby on the treetop,” Natasha sings softly, a hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. Colours sweep into galaxies as nightfall arrives, cloaking her land in gentle beauty.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” As if on cue, the wind gets a little chillier. Worry clouds Natasha’s face, edging in on her safe haven.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” A holographic image of The God of Justice materializes before her eyes. It meant that it was an urgent message, from one God to the next.

“The SHIELD base is being attacked by an unknown force. We’re in grave danger,” Steve says, urgent and frantic. Screams and chaos can be heard in the background, and the God barely ducks a crashing marble pillar.

Natasha almost scoffs and switches off the image. The Gods had ignored her very existence ever since they had banished you, which was convenient in hiding her pregnancy, but at the same time rather annoying, now that they were begging for help.

That is, until Steve persisted further. “Natasha. This perpetrator has power beyond measure, dark power. It could even exceed Loki’s.”

“......What does this harbinger of hell want?” Natasha asks, steely eyes surveying her homeland.

“Natasha,” Steve repeats, weary eyes hooded with anxiety. “They’re looking for you.”

Down will come baby, cradle and fall.

so that happened.... any thoughts about our new and improved y/n, ruler of the underworld?? loki rlly stirred up a lot of shit huh

reblog or no y/n x natasha reunion

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[euovennia]

oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

oh

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

like

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

:)

[uhmimlost]

Simeon has always been one of the most interesting characters in Obey me moreso because he doesn't seem like what he shows on the surface. (Spoilers ahead)

He was originally demoted to an Archangel after being a Seraph alongside Lucifer.

(This whole conversation between them was just sooo good, the mutual agony and the need to comfort each other)

He always talks openly about things he disagrees with even if he knows it opposes his higher ups, he (seemingly) did it after the war and he did so when Raphael announced Lucifer's judgement at Cocytus. All of this despite him genuinely being scared of God (it honestly seems like that is about the only thing that scares this man).

It's very melancholic how Simeon talks about the bonds the brothers have and how he is close to them but never had a chance at being 'a part of them' per say. He yearns for that kind of closeness and love and bonding and it's almost heartbreaking to think someone who often masks his emotions and how he feels had to deal with losing people so close to him so publicly.

And the fact that he didn't want it to happen again, (in this case Lucifer and MC) so he 'borrowed' the ring of light from Michael because he knew he would not be able to get it if he asked directly, all because he strongly believed that's the right thing to do. He does what he feels is right, no matter what and always speaks his truth.

He knew there would be consequences to him doing what he did, but he did it regardless and owned up to the consequences and blamed no one for it.

Here's some of my other favourite things about his character;

1. His relationship with Lucifer

His dynamic with 'Lucy' is genuinely so heartwarming. They seem to know each other too well and feel very comfortable around each other. They know how the other thinks and always seek each other out for advice or chats. It's always fun to see how cheeky Lucifer gets with Simeon and the other way round, both of whom don't show this side of themselves easily. The way Lucifer tries to act all indifferent but was probably the most concerned alongside Solomon when Simeon lost his powers.

2. Nobody can tell what he's thinking; he masks his emotions really well

Diavolo himself talks about how he thinks Simeon is hard to read and in fact difficult to talk to. It's an interesting dynamic in itself because Simeon's the kind of person who has no enemies but there is some level of discomfort distinctly visible amongst the two.

He also has wrath as his attribute, an emotion he does not openly show as often. It's actually quite funny because while he's running his cafe we see time and time again his anger is something everyone is terrified of.

Even in the latest chapter he's struggling but when asked is like nah I'm good. He's very playful in his demeanor, and although immensely kind and patient, he still lacks certain 'angelic' qualities considering he has also been selfish and deceptive.

3. Simeon is a source of comfort to everyone

He's a source of comfort to both Luke and MC and has time and time again been the source of advice and a confidant to MC.

He also made Solomon feel like he has a place to call home and people who care for him (filling some part of one of the issues at the core of Solomon) He goes out of his way to look after this whole grown ass adult.

As Lucifer put it, his ability to get the brothers to calm down with his kindness and quick thinking is something very unique to him.

Lucifer also talks about Simeon really being the only 'normal' one and someone he can talk to in the celestial realm.

----------

All in all I feel like there's a lot more I could talk about him, but feel free to add more to this. Man needs all the love he can get right now with all that's happening to him. :)

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

[throwaway-things]

In The Silence : part 2

The case had been brutal, the kind that clings to the mind long after it’s over, weighing heavily on everyone’s spirits. It was close to midnight, and you sat alone in the hotel bar nursing a drink, the dim lighting casting shadows across the room. You had tried to sleep, but rest wouldn’t come—not when you knew Spencer was just down the hall, oblivious to the heartbreak he had caused.

You sighed, the memory of his gentle rejection still fresh, still raw. Weeks had passed since that conversation, and you’d done everything possible to focus on work and distance yourself, to bury the ache of his words and the hollow emptiness they left. Yet every time you looked at him, you felt it all over again. It was as though every shared glance, every professional exchange, only served to remind you of what you could never have.

“Can’t sleep either?” A soft voice broke the silence, and you turned to find Spencer standing a few feet away. His face was drawn, exhaustion settling into the delicate lines around his eyes. He gave a tentative smile, one that you struggled to return.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess tonight’s one of those nights.”

He took a seat next to you, and for a moment, the silence between you grew heavy, thick with unspoken words. You could feel his eyes on you, as if he were trying to read your thoughts. If he noticed the shadows under your eyes, the quiet resignation in your gaze, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply ordered a coffee, his presence warm and familiar despite the awkwardness that still lingered.

You wanted to leave, to save yourself the agony of sitting so close to him, of pretending that everything was okay. But you couldn’t move. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe it was that last shred of hope that refused to die, that somehow being near him would fill the emptiness inside you.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Are you… holding up alright?” The question was so soft it almost got lost in the quiet murmur of the bar. There was genuine concern in his eyes, but it only made things harder.

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “It’s just… the case, I guess. And everything else.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “I understand. These things… they can weigh on you.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from him. The last thing you wanted was for him to see through the thin walls you had built, to notice the tremble in your hands or the way your voice wavered with barely restrained emotion.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice cracking. “It just… sometimes, it feels like too much.”

Spencer shifted closer, his presence a silent comfort. “You know, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You clenched your fists under the table, the words coming out before you could stop them. “But what if I am alone?”

The bitterness in your tone surprised even you, and you immediately regretted it. But Spencer was watching you, his gaze intent, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“Do you really feel that way?” he asked quietly, his voice gentle.

You swallowed, unable to meet his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t change anything. Like I’m… invisible.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of your confession hanging between you. You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them back, refusing to break in front of him. Not again.

Spencer’s hand rested on the table, inches from yours. For a brief, reckless moment, you thought he might reach for you, offer some comfort. But he stayed where he was, his expression somber, his gaze full of understanding that somehow only deepened the ache in your chest.

“You’re not invisible,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “Not to me.”

The words were gentle, sincere, and they cut deeper than anything else. Because for all his kindness, for all the comfort his presence provided, it didn’t change the fact that he could never feel the same way. He saw you, but he didn’t love you. And that knowledge was a hollow echo that would haunt you long after this night was over.

You looked down, your voice barely a whisper. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? Not when it’s… not the same.”

Spencer’s face fell, his eyes clouded with a sadness that mirrored your own. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply looked at you, the weight of your unrequited feelings settling between you like a chasm that couldn’t be crossed.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, and those two words shattered what little composure you had left.

You nodded, your heart breaking all over again. “I know,” you replied, voice shaking.

The silence stretched on, the unspoken truth hanging in the air, painful and unyielding. There was nothing left to say, nothing that could ease the hurt or make things right. And as you sat there, alone in the quiet hum of the bar, you realized that some wounds couldn’t be healed with words. Some things were simply meant to be carried, no matter how heavy the weight.

Without another word, you stood, your heart aching with every step as you left Spencer behind, the echo of his apology following you into the empty night.

I’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! This one is a bit shorter, but part 3 is coming soon!

[girlbossblackbeard]

Stede cannot escape his crushing guilt

In rewatching ep 1, there are two blatant examples of how pervasive Stede's guilt is that actually really hit me hard despite them mostly being played for laughs:

"I knew you'd find me, babe" "You're not mad?" "I knew you'd find me, love" "So, we're good? About everything?" "Fuckin' love the beard, mate." Even in Stede's dreams, Ed does not confirm that everything is alright between them. I'm starting to think the dream sequence is actually a nightmare sequence because he gets confronted by his fears by not only Izzy throwing it in his face that Stede left Ed of his own volition, but Ed steadfastly refusing to answer Stede's questions about their relationship being okay. Also, the way he called out to Ed with tears in his eyes and the look of pure desperation and agony on his face as they're rolling around in the sand after they collide really drove home how much Stede is struggling with the weight of his separation from Ed on a subconscious level.

Later, we get the scene of Stede talking to Ed's wanted poster. The fact that, once again, in Stede's own imagination Ed is not refuting Stede's fears but is rather confirming them in the case of him revealing he's worried Ed's life is better without him in it and Stede responding "could be…could be mate" in "Ed's" voice is actually really truly genuinely tragic and heartbreaking when you think about it ! :) Stede is struggling so hard to cope with his shame over how his actions have affected Ed, he won't even allow himself to be forgiven in his own imagination even though that's clearly what he's hoping will happen. He just might not believe that he deserves it.

[rainforestakiie]

Vacation Away Part 01

hello. this is for @inubaki! who made me some amazing fanart for my fics! i'm so greatful! thank you so much!

'Adam and Lucifer get the same idea to take a break on earth. Adam in heaven and Lucifer in hell, both take on human form and embark to earth only to stumble in to one another. Whether or not Lucifer catches onto who Adam’s first is up to you while Adam remains clueless or in denial. They spend the weekend together and basically just begin falling in love without labels or restraint. But they are on a time limit.'

there is a second part of this. i changed it a little but i hope you like it inubaki. i love your other ideas too! so i might write them as well!

ah, hope you enjoy it at least!

Vacation Away (Adam/Lucifer goes on vacation on Earth) = Part 01. Part 02.

A month after the harrowing clash between the Exterminations and the Princess of Hell, Adam was still engulfed in torment. His head throbbed with a relentless heaviness, a dizzying fog clouding his thoughts. His body remained seared with pain, each ache a cruel reminder of his suffering. His spirit, once resilient, now lay in shambles, a shadow of the man he once was. The agony was a haunting echo of his earliest wounds, inflicted by Lilith’s poisonous actions, Eve’s heartbreak, and the ultimate devastation wrought by his archangel’s betrayal.

It was as if Adam had never healed at all. A suffocating, obsidian cloud of despair and depression seemed to cling to him, smothering any breath of relief. He gasped for air, his chest constricted by the relentless grip of sorrow. Only in those fleeting moments of waking from slumber did he feel a whisper of peace, a fleeting escape from the nightmares that plagued his restless nights.

After the brutal beating, whether he deserved it or not was irrelevant to him now. Adam found himself teetering on the brink of death once more. It was a cruel pattern, a relentless cycle of near-death encounters whenever one of the three crossed his path. Fate had a twisted sense of humour, always dealing Adam the losing hand, leaving him battered and scarred after every encounter. Despite the supposed necessity of meetings between Heaven and Hell, Adam had fought fervently to be excluded, but Sera and Michael had insisted on his involvement as the first man. His gut feeling had been right; their meetings were rife with snide remarks and veiled insults from the King and Queen of Hell. Even in silence, Adam felt like nothing more than their designated punching bag.

His ego was shattered, bruised by the beating inflicted by the very one who had once hurt him the most. Adam was merely following orders, never wishing to become an instrument of death against the Sinners. Yet, Heaven's demands were unyielding, and Sera’s insistence on his involvement only deepened his misery. Adam, who never sought this path, found himself trapped in a relentless cycle of pain and sorrow.

Adam could never see things from the Princess of Hell's perspective. To him, she was naive, far too sheltered to truly grasp the gravity of the souls she sought to redeem. Adam had never wanted to be involved in the first place. He preferred to feign ignorance, to pretend he was unaware of humanity's darkest deeds. There was a clear reason why a human soul descended to Hell instead of ascending to Heaven. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't for minor transgressions or even serious crimes where remorse was shown. Heaven's gates were not as stringent as many believed. Not a single Sinner in Hell was innocent; every soul there had committed grievous acts against humanity, acts of harm and murder, devoid of remorse or repentance.

The Princess of Hell, in Adam’s eyes, was utterly foolish. She was delusional to think that smiles, trust, and rainbows could redeem those who had no regret for the heinous crimes that damned them to Hell in the first place. Without genuine remorse, the gates of Heaven would remain forever closed to them.

Perhaps Adam had embraced his role as Leader of Extermination too fervently, but the Princess was blind to the dangers she courted. She stirred emotions, rattled cages, and pushed boundaries without understanding the consequences. The Angels were duty-bound to protect the righteous, and if the Princess had her way, victims would be forced to confront their worst perpetrators in Heaven—a perverse and cruel outcome.

What she was doing was fundamentally wrong. And the so-called snake, the King of Hell, wouldn’t even enlighten her about the true nature of Hell and its Sinners. To Adam, it was insanity. Perhaps he had been too rash, too rough, and perhaps he deserved the reprimand he received. But for heaven's sake, the Princess needed to be put in her place, too. Her actions threatened to harm more human souls.

Adam groaned, running a hand over his face. His skin prickled with anger, his golden feathers bristled. He had nearly died in Hell. After the cowardly King granted him 'mercy,' a one-eyed Sinner had stabbed him. This incident only reinforced his point. Lute had dragged him back to Heaven, to Sera and Emily, just in time. He was alive, still an Angel, but now...sicker, he guessed.

Sliding off the side of the bed, Adam’s head pulsed with a relentless, excruciating pain, and his golden wings fluttered and shuddered at his sides. The only visible remnant of his near-death experience was the star-shaped scar on his chest. The rest of his ailments were more insidious, affecting his health in ways he couldn’t fully comprehend.

The persistent knocking on his door made his dizziness worse. He wobbled towards it, dragging his wings across the floor. "Go away," he murmured.

Silence followed, and Adam foolishly thought the person had left. He had been locked in his room since his narrow escape from death. But then, a small, timid voice broke through the door.

"Adam?" Emily whimpered. "You’ve been inside for so long… please…"

Adam could never be cruel to Emily. She was one of the sweetest angels, yet she shared the Princess of Hell’s naivety about the truth of Sinners and Hell. He couldn’t bring himself to shatter her innocence; the light in her eyes would dim if she knew the full extent of the darkness. Sera had wanted to cruelly enlighten her, but Adam had begged the older Seraphim not to.

Sighing deeply, Adam opened the door, and the small Seraphim jumped in surprise. Her eyes brightened upon seeing him, but concern quickly spread across her face, her shoulders tensing with worry.

"Oh, Adam! How are you feeling?" she asked, taking hold of his hands. "You look dreadful! Have you been eating? Sleeping? Do you need anything? I can get some medicine for you."

Adam managed a small smile. Emily was probably the only one who showed him genuine care. "I’m fine, really, Emily. I just want to be left alone."

"But I haven’t seen you in so long…" Emily's wings drooped. "I wanted to check on you."

"I know you did, and I appreciate it." Adam ruffled her soft purple and white hair. "I think I need a break. A vacation or something. I need to get away from everything. My head… it’s not in a great place. It hasn’t been for a long time."

Emily sniffled. "A break? You want to get away from everyone? Even me?"

"No, no," Adam hurried to reassure her. "Not you, Emily. I just need time away from Heaven, Hell, Sera, and everything else. I’m sure there will be another meeting soon, and I know I’ll be forced to attend again…"

He desperately needed to withdraw from Extermination Day and everything related to Hell. He would figure it out eventually. "I have too much noise in my head. Too much going on, and I need time."

"Oh," Emily mumbled softly, her head slowly nodding.

She seemed deep in thought, and Adam almost worried. Emily always had strange ideas. He could see the gears turning in her little head and fought the urge not to shut the door.

"You should go to Earth!" she suddenly exclaimed brightly. "You should go down to Earth! That’s the best place to go! Nobody would think to look for you there!"

Adam paused, considering. Earth? That might be a good idea. On Earth, nobody knew who he was. In Heaven, he was always drowning in attention. It was suffocating. He couldn’t even go outside without being mobbed by Winners. It was too much. He wasn’t used to being followed around like that, having people cling to him. He would never get used to it.

Nobody knew him on Earth. The humans there wouldn’t even blink twice if they saw him.

"I mean, we can give you a disguise if you’d like?" Emily offered, her pretty wings fluttering. She smiled so brightly, so sweetly, that Adam found himself agreeing without fully thinking it through.

"But Sera would never allow it," he deflated, excitement sparking momentarily. "She would rather cut off her wings than let me go to Earth for a break. As a Seraphim, I need her permission to leave Heaven's gates..."

"I’m a Seraphim too!" Emily huffed, puffing her chest out as her angelic eye glowed. "I can give you permission, and I will deal with Sera later!"

"I don’t want to cause problems for you. Sera’s pretty… strict. We both know she’ll never be happy with this, and I don’t want you to bear the brunt of her anger." Adam frowned, recalling how terrifying Sera was when angry. He had always avoided being on the receiving end of it and couldn’t forgive himself if Emily had to endure it.

But Emily continued to glow, unfazed by the thought of Sera’s wrath. "Don’t worry about Sera. Leave her to me. I can handle her."

"But—"

Emily gave him such a pointed look that Adam was reminded that despite her small and fragile appearance, she was ten times more powerful than he was. Emily was an ancient being, maybe even triple his age.

"If you’re sure…" Adam weakly conceded.

Emily huffed, straightening her form and planting her hands on her hips. "I’ll get all the paperwork done without Sera noticing! We’ll aim for you to leave next week!"

Adam found himself smiling. This was why he adored Emily so much.

"Thank you, Emily."

She beamed in return.

A couple of days later, Emily sat at the end of Adam’s bed, surrounded by a bundle of papers. Her pretty eyes shimmered with enthusiasm as she sifted through the parchments, a sweet smile on her face.

“Or, we have these!” she sang, holding up a parchment with a long list of names. “I put together all the newest upcoming music festivals! Maybe you could attend one of these? It might be fun!”

Adam smiled crookedly, his eyes scanning the words. Emily was so considerate, so thoughtful. She had compiled numerous ideas and suggestions for his vacation, detailing places he could go and things he could try. Of course, as long as he brought her something back. She was innocent and sweet, reminding him of his own daughters.

“I really appreciate the thought, but I’m going on a break to get away from noise, not to be around more,” he said. In truth, he’d love to attend a music festival or even a concert. But his daily headaches and constant fatigue demanded a calm, still place with as few people as possible. “I need silence, I think…”

Something like Eden, a small voice whispered, but Adam ignored it.

“So, Hawaii’s out of the question then.” Emily pouted. “I heard the flowers are very pretty.”

“And the drinks are amazing,” Adam joked, his grin widening as Emily giggled.

Yet, his headache at the thought. He would love to go to Hawaii; it would be amazing. The alcohol could help ease his anxiety, and the flowers were beautiful. Adam would love to wear one of those flower leis. But Hawaii was a tourist magnet, teeming with people. While they wouldn’t recognize him, Adam wanted solitude, not the heart of a crowd. So, Hawaii was out of the question.

Flowers...like the blossoms from Eden. The sweet scent and warm summer breeze.

“Adam?” Emily tilted her head curiously.

Adam lowered his head and meekly shrugged his shoulders. “I wish I could just go to Eden for a vacation. I really miss it…”

“I’m so sorry, Adam.” Emily’s smile turned sad and gentle as she reached forward to squeeze his hands. “I’m so sorry you lost so much. If only I had been born earlier, I could have helped you. I could have fought for you back then.”

Adam sighed. “You’re so sweet, but I know I can never go back to it. But I just miss it so much. Eden is my home, and I fear I will never feel that way about another place. Heaven is nice and all, but it’s not Eden.”

Emily’s eyes shimmered with understanding, and she squeezed his hands tighter. “Maybe one day, Adam. Maybe one day you’ll find a place that feels like home again.”

"While I can't bring back Eden, I can do something else," Emily said softly. She raised her hands delicately, summoning a scroll of soft pink and purple parchment. With gentle fingers, Emily unravelled it. "I wasn't sure if you would want to. I was worried it might even offend you, but... I put together a list of towns and cities that are similar to Eden. With flowers and so on..."

Adam's eyes widened in surprise, his golden wings shimmering and twitching. "Y-You did?"

"Yes." Emily smiled sweetly, her eyes lowering to the list. "I have put together ten of the most beautiful and peaceful places you could go. Keukenhof Gardens was the first place I thought of. Called the 'Garden of Europe,' Lisse is home to Keukenhof, one of the world's largest flower gardens. It features millions of tulips and other flowers."

"Then I found out about Medellín, Colombia, known as the 'City of Eternal Spring.' Medellín hosts the annual Flower Festival (Feria de las Flores) in August, showcasing elaborate floral displays and parades featuring intricate flower arrangements." Emily explained, reading what she had noted down on the parchment with a soft hum. "Hitachi, Japan. Hitachi Seaside Park: Famous for its seasonal flower displays, this park in Hitachinaka features millions of flowers, including nemophila, tulips, and kochia, creating breathtaking landscapes that change with the seasons.

"Giverny, France. Monet's Garden: The village of Giverny is known for Claude Monet's gardens, which inspired many of his famous paintings. The gardens are meticulously maintained and feature a stunning array of flowers, including water lilies.

"Spello, Italy. Infiorate di Spello: This small town in Umbria is famous for its annual flower festival, where intricate carpets of flowers are created in the streets for the Feast of Corpus Christi.

"Brussels, Belgium. Flower Carpet: Every two years, the Grand Place in Brussels is transformed into a vibrant flower carpet made up of hundreds of thousands of begonias. The event attracts visitors from all over the world.

"Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Dubai Miracle Garden: This expansive garden is home to millions of flowers arranged in stunning designs and structures. It holds the title for the world's largest natural flower garden.

"Furano, Japan. Lavender Fields: Known for its picturesque lavender fields, Furano attracts visitors during the summer months when the fields are in full bloom, creating a sea of purple flowers.

"Madeira, Portugal. Funchal: The capital city of Madeira, Funchal, hosts the annual Flower Festival in spring, featuring parades, flower carpets, and vibrant floral displays throughout the city.

"Victoria, Canada. Butchart Gardens: Located on Vancouver Island, Butchart Gardens is famous for its beautifully landscaped gardens, featuring a diverse range of flowers and plants in various themed gardens."

Adam's heart warmed as he listened. The detailed descriptions brought each place to life in his mind. "Emily, this is incredible," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never imagined... thank you."

Emily beamed. "I just want you to be happy, Adam. I hope one of these places can bring you some peace."

And so it was that Adam found himself standing before the enchanting Keukenhof Gardens. The allure of the "Garden of Europe" captivated him, invoking vivid memories of the Garden of Eden. The thought filled him with a renewed sense of purpose, his wings lifting gracefully instead of dragging wearily behind him.

The air on Earth surprised him with its sweetness. Despite the passage of time and the pollution that had thickened the atmosphere since Eden, Keukenhof Gardens offered a refreshing breath of purity. It wasn't quite like Eden, but it was perhaps the closest he could find.

Adam's golden eyes gleamed as they swept across the quaint city of Lisse. It was serene, just as he preferred. The surroundings beckoned with promise: the inviting Keukenhof Forest to the west, the historic Ter Specko to the north, and even a charming Black Tulip Museum nearby. Here, amidst such beauty, he felt he could finally clear his mind and heart.

Emily, bless her soul, had deftly managed to slip the paperwork approving Adam's stay on Earth past Sera. He wasn't sure what was transpiring in Heaven, but Emily had insisted he leave before Sera discovered their plan. She had even strategically omitted his Earthly location from the documents, ensuring Sera couldn't retrieve him. As the Seraphim responsible for his permission to stay, Emily alone knew his whereabouts and could visit without his consent. Sometimes, Heaven's rules worked in his favour when cleverly navigated.

Yet, Adam worried for her. He hoped Sera wouldn't be too harsh. Emily was simply doing what she believed was right, and Adam was profoundly grateful for her courage. It was the first time Heaven had done something for him, and he couldn't thank her enough.

Though Emily had wished to grant him a month or two, she had only managed a week. But that was plenty. Ample time away from the celestial struggles, the turmoil of Heaven and Hell, the conflicts of winners and sinners, and the shadows of his past heartbreak. Here, in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, Adam hoped to escape and forget.

He could pretend. He could deceive himself if he closed his eyes tightly enough, imagining he wasn't the first man but just a regular human, living a simple, serene life on Earth. For one single week, Adam will pretend he was just a normal human visiting the town of Lisse. 

His hair, now more red than brown, framed his face in soft waves. His once brilliant golden eyes had mellowed to a gentle shade of amber. The angelic tan that once graced his skin had faded to a paler hue, making his freckles stand out more prominently. Adam had grown slimmer since his days as an angel, though he still bore a slight curve in his stomach. He had lost nearly sixty percent of his former self after the Sinner had almost claimed his life. 

Even before Emily altered his appearance, his illness had rendered him nearly unrecognisable. Adam was perpetually tired, moving slower than before, with a small limp—a souvenir not from the one-eyed Sinner, but from the King of Hell’s brutal assault. The damage to his nervous system was irreparable. 

Sera and Emily had laboured tirelessly over his chest wound, trying to keep him from bleeding out. By the time they realised the extent of the nerve damage, it was too late. He had to live with the limp in his left foot and the near numbness of his right hand. But he supposed it was fine.

Adam gazed down at the white-lined paper in the book before him. His amber eyes were vacant as his mind struggled to find words.

“Are you alright, hun?” the little old lady behind the counter asked gently.

He blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and straightened up. His right hand refused to curl around the pen properly. Biting his bottom lip, he switched to his left hand. “Yes, sorry,” he replied.

The little old lady could see that Adam wasn't truly okay, but she kindly chose not to press the issue. She settled back in her oversized cardigan, her fat ginger cat napping on the counter beside her. Adam awkwardly scribbled a random name in the sign-in book, double-checking it to memorise his 'new name' before stepping back. In truth, there was no real need for a fake name or a disguise; walking around without his wings or halo would suffice. But Adam wanted to be someone else, just for the week.

“Alright then, sweetheart,” the little old lady sang as she rose with her walking stick. “Your room is just this way.”

Adam managed a small smile as he moved to follow her, pausing to pet the ginger cat. Maybe, just maybe, this week wouldn't be so bad after all.

“So, Graham, are you here to see our tulips?” the little old lady asked with a sweet hum.

Her voice brought a warmth to Adam's heart, reminding him of his granddaughter, the second human to enter Heaven. She had chosen to remain in her elderly form, a sweet little thing who would nap randomly, often requiring Adam to carry her. He hadn’t seen her since...

“Yes,” he swallowed. “I love... nature. I’ve always enjoyed flowers, trees, grass...”

“Nothing wrong with that. You seem like such a sweet young lad,” she said, leading him down the corridor of her flower-themed inn. “Such a sensitive soul you are. The youth of today aren’t interested in nature, too obsessed with electronics, like their phones. You remind me of the other young man upstairs, he signed in this morning.”

Adam sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, well... I’ve always loved nature. So I... enjoy going to see it. My plan is to go see the tulips, the flowers this week. Maybe even go to the museum.”

“Are you here just for the week?” the old lady questioned, pulling out an old ring of keys. She shuffled to an oak door adorned with a carved flower. “I own a florist shop. We specialise in all the beautiful flowers Keukenhof has to offer. My daughter used to help me run it, but my little grandson’s sick, so she hasn’t been able to work. If you’re interested, I could use a hand. Only for the mornings, so you will be free by 11:00AM.”

How sweet.

“I’d love to help,” Adam immediately said. He hadn’t worked with flowers in years and missed everything about them, everything about Eden. “I don’t need to be paid or anything. I’ll volunteer.”

“Such a nice young lad,” the little old lady hummed, unlocking the door to his room. “I don’t want to be a bother. You’ve already paid for your room, and I’ll make you hot meals on the house.”

Adam beamed. It sounded wonderful to work with flowers again, even if just for a week.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” the woman chimed. “You have no idea how much you have helped me. I wish all youngsters were like you these days.”

If only she knew Adam was thousands of years older than her. 

The florist was beautiful, and Adam's breath was taken away the moment he stepped inside. The flowers were gorgeous, each one a unique blend of shades, shapes, and sizes. Adam hadn't seen so many lovely flowers in such a long time. It was amazing to see.

He was given a sage-green apron, sandy brown gloves, and his first task: creating a bouquet. The little old lady was very friendly, patient, and sweet, teaching him how to arrange the flowers just so.

Adam was tasked with making the bouquets for orders, nothing else. It was so fun to do, and Adam never realized how enjoyable it could be. The flowers smelled lovely, and he would often stop to take in their fragrance. The florist wasn’t very big—the front had rows of flowers and plants, with a counter beyond them, and a small workshop in a room on the other side of the counter.

“Wonderful work, Graham,” the little lady cooed, taking his newest freshly made bouquet and moving it to a vase. She lightly ran her wrinkled fingers across the petals. “You really seem to have a talent with flowers. Perhaps you’ve worked in a florist before?”

Adam flushed sheepishly. “Not really. I’ve never worked in a florist before.”

“Really?” the old lady gasped, appearing surprised. “But you knew so much without me even needing to tell you. How strange.”

Shrugging helplessly, Adam smiled warmly down at the flowers around him. If the florist was this beautiful, he couldn’t wait to see how lovely the rest of Keukenhof would look.

“Mrs. Dorothy?” a familiar yet unfamiliar voice suddenly called.

The little old lady hummed, turning towards the voice. She wiped her hands on her apron and began to wobble towards a figure stepping into the doorway of the florist.

“Ah, Samuel,” Dorothy said kindly. “You’re here. Wonderful.”

Adam squinted his eyes, awkwardly wiping his gloved hands together and turning to look at this new person. Samuel, he reminded himself. A strange sensation twisted in the pit of his stomach as the figure stepped fully into the workshop, meeting Dorothy as she wobbled towards him. The old lady was speaking to him, but Adam wasn’t listening; his ears only picked up buzzing. He blinked awkwardly, glancing at the young man with a weirdness seeping over him.

Samuel appeared somewhat familiar, but Adam didn’t know why. He had never seen him before.

“Ah, Graham, this is Samuel. My other customer. He’s staying the week also at my inn,” Dorothy explained, gesturing to the man. “He’s agreed to volunteer at my florist too.”

She tilted her head to Samuel. “Samuel, this is Graham. You’ll be working together in the mornings.”

Samuel nodded with an oddly familiar smile. His blue eyes shimmered as he gazed at Adam and stepped up to him, his delicate pale hand reaching out. “It’s lovely to meet you, Graham. I hope we can get along.”

Adam stared at the hand. His stomach began to hurt, and he had no idea why. Samuel was short, reaching his shoulder. His face was cherry-shaped, with rosy cheeks and large sea-blue eyes. His hair was a strawberry blonde that curled around his face in a fashion Adam was sure he had seen before but couldn’t quite place.

When Samuel cocked his head innocently, his golden eyebrow raising, Adam mentally kicked himself. He quickly wrapped his hand around Samuel’s, a spark of electricity running through their skin at the contact. Adam almost yanked his hand back but swallowed it down. It looked as if Samuel hadn’t noticed the spark and continued to grin innocently at him.

Wait. Was it innocent? Adam felt a strong chill run up his spine. He recognized that sort of smile. It wasn’t so innocent…

“Nice to meet you too,” Adam mumbled quietly. “Um….Samuel.”

Why did the name sound so wrong to him? 

“I’m sure we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

~#~

Lucifer was engulfed in a profound and suffocating despair, far deeper than he had ever experienced. His emotions were a chaotic, tangled mess, with an ever-increasing weight of sorrow pressing down on him each day. Even with Charlie by his side, their rekindling relationship offered no respite from the relentless grip of his depression. The once comforting presence of his rubber ducks, which used to bring a sliver of solace, now failed to pierce through his gloom.

Something was fundamentally broken within him, something he couldn't comprehend. Ever since his catastrophic fall from Eden, Lucifer had not been the same. Lilith's departure had been anticipated, yet even that couldn't account for the depth of his current despair. He was hollow, a shell of his former self. 

Though he had a room in the new 'Hazbin Hotel,' he scarcely used it. Charlie thought he had moved in with her and her friends, but Lucifer couldn't truly reside there. Each time he retired to the apple-shaped room at the hotel's corner, he would open a portal and retreat to his mansion. He couldn't explain why he kept returning to this dark, desolate building, but he did. It was as if he were expecting someone or something, and each time he found it cold and empty, his heart ached with unbearable pain.

Initially, he thought he was yearning for Lilith, clinging to the hope that she had returned, only to be devastated by her continued absence. But he soon realised that his turmoil was not about Lilith. It was something else, something he couldn't identify. Sitting in the centre of his cold, empty, and lonely chamber, Lucifer perched awkwardly on his four-poster bed, surrounded by mountains of rubber ducks. He clutched one in particular, rolling it between his claws with a lopsided frown, his red and gold eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

This little rubber duck had red curls attached to the back. He remembered crafting it years ago when he was still hopeful, still a dreamer. It was the Eve rubber duck. He placed it gently on the royal purple quilt, next to the Lilith duck, his frown deepening. His own duck was on Eve's other side, a grim reminder of something that happened centuries ago. 

His eyes drifted toward another duck placed farther away from the trio, and his chest tightened in agony. It had been so long since he had brought out his Eden rubber duck set. Lilith had never seen them. He had locked them away, for his eyes only, the guilt gnawing at him relentlessly.

With delicate claws, Lucifer picked up the duck that mirrored his own loneliness and sadness. He cradled it in his darkened hand as if fearing it might dissolve. The soft brown tufts of hair gave the duck an endearing look. He remembered remaking it countless times, never satisfied, which fueled his incessant quest for perfection in his rubber ducks. If he couldn't make Adam perfect, none of the others would be either.

This rubber duck always appeared crestfallen, perpetually sad and heartbroken, a reflection of Lucifer's own regret and foolish actions. Each time he remade the Adam duck, it always ended up with defects, odd bumps near the eyes that made it look on the verge of tears. Stroking the top of its head, Lucifer longed to comfort it, to stop its eternal weeping, but the duck remained frozen in its state of sorrow. He blinked away his own tears, trying to hold back the overwhelming tide of his own sadness.

Adam hadn't attended any meetings since that fateful battle months ago. In truth, Lucifer had expected the arrogant, self-absorbed first man to bounce back quickly. He wasn’t overly concerned when Lute had hauled Adam's beaten and bloodied body back up through the portal to Heaven. For a fleeting moment, Lucifer had wondered if he’d gone too far in his fervour to protect his daughter. His love for Charlie was boundless, and he would have obliterated anyone who dared make her cry. But Adam had already been defeated. Lucifer had done more than just defend Charlie; he had humiliated Adam, ensuring all of Hell knew just how much of a cuck the first man was.

Lucifer hadn't given it a second thought. He convinced himself that Adam needed a dose of humility and that at the next meeting between Heaven and Hell, the first man would be there, his usual brash and infuriating self. Lucifer was certain of it. He was beyond certain that when he and Charlie entered the grand hall for the meeting, Adam would be sitting in that golden chair next to Sera.

He had wagered his entire being, his magic, his rubber ducks, even Hell itself on it.

So it was soul-crushing to enter the hall and find not Adam and Sera, but Sera and a small Seraphim clearly meant as Lucifer’s replacement—and fucking Michael. The discomfort and aggression in the room were tense. 

Even the little Seraphim, whom Charlie had befriended and called 'Emily,' wasn't smiling. Charlie had said Emily was always cheerful, always beaming, but now Emily looked blank, upset, disappointed. Charlie tried to talk to her, but Emily ignored her, which clearly hurt his precious daughter.

Lucifer hadn't asked about Adam then. He let the strangeness wash over him, expecting Adam to be at the next meeting...and the next...and the next, until ten meetings had passed with no sign of the first man. Lucifer had stopped listening to the discussions, stopped caring about Charlie's arguments.

"Where's Adam?" he finally asked, and the three Angels before him darkened instantly.

"You will be dealing with me from now on," Michael spat, his aggression blinding Lucifer momentarily.

Michael and Lucifer had clashed since before the fall, never agreeing on anything. But this time was different. Michael's rage was unprecedented, even more intense than when Lucifer had defied God's plan and corrupted humanity. Lucifer was bewildered.

Charlie was shocked and confused, but neither of them received any answers.

That soul-crushing ache from centuries ago, when Adam had first caught him with Lilith, returned with tenfold intensity. It nearly made Lucifer's legs buckle beneath him. How badly had he hurt Adam? He hadn't intended to harm him so grievously. He just wanted to scare him, to send a message so Heaven would think twice before threatening his daughter again.

Emily glared, and Charlie bristled in shock when she asked if Adam was alive.

Lucifer's head spun as he sat on his bed, hugging the rubber duck to his chest with a sigh. Maybe Adam deserved some of the things he did that day on the crumbling grounds of the hotel, but he certainly didn't deserve all of it. Lucifer had gone too far. He had beaten Adam beyond recognition, beyond what he had intended and purposely humiliated him in front of all the Sinners…so nobody would ever take him seriously again…

Lucifer wanted to see Adam. No, he needed to see Adam. The most recent meeting had come just this morning, and Lucifer had decided to miss it—a decision he now realized was foolish. His absence had been the root of many problems, but he couldn’t bear the thought of going to the meeting room again and finding Adam still absent. The pain was becoming unbearable.

Groaning, Lucifer flopped back onto his bed. He held the Adam rubber duck above him, his other hand clutching his own rubber duck. Together, he held them aloft, his gaze softening with sadness. It hadn’t always been this way. Their relationship, their friendship, hadn’t always been bitter and hostile. Once, it had been sweet, gentle, and loving. Once, he and Adam had been closer than anyone could imagine. Adam had been Lucifer's entire world, and Lucifer knew he had been Adam’s world too.

But feelings, emotions, had gotten in the way. Lucifer had believed he’d fallen in love, but Adam’s betrayed expression had haunted him since. Once, when Lucifer was still hopeful, still a dreamer who believed in God's plan and ideals, he had thought that despite everything, Adam would come around and they would be close friends again.

But that never happened. Lucifer would never forget the excruciating agony of realizing that Adam hated him. Adam hated him...

“Dad?” came a sudden voice, making Lucifer jump with a startled yelp.

His rubber ducks danced in the air as he sprang up, desperately trying to catch them. The Adam rubber duck bounced onto the purple, black, and red carpet. Lucifer’s eyes fixed on it, that familiar ache tightening in his chest. Why did it always feel like Adam was running away from him?

“Dad?” Charlie stepped in, her eyes glancing around at his collection of rubber duck toys.

Lucifer awkwardly grinned, trying to hide the fact that he’d been on the verge of tears. “Charlie! What brings you here? Is everything alright with the hotel?”

Charlie’s gaze returned to her father, a strained smile crossing her lips. “Well, the meeting was this morning, and you missed it—”

She paused as she stepped forward, and Lucifer’s eyes zoomed in on her foot as she raised it above his precious Adam rubber duck. His breath caught in his throat as Charlie was about to step on it.

“Oh.” Charlie looked down, lifting her foot to see the duck. She immediately picked it up, her gaze softening. While she didn’t fully understand what her father was going through, she knew there was something he hadn’t told her. “This looks like Adam.”

“Does it?!” Lucifer squealed, too forced. He released a series of sheepish, forced laughs that made Charlie flinch. “It—it must be defective! Give it here and I’ll throw it away!”

Charlie glanced at his clawed hand and then back at the Adam duck. It definitely did not appear defective. Instead, she could tell a lot of time and effort had gone into its creation. It had ten times more detail than any other duck she had seen. With a soft hum, her delicate fingers folded around it, holding it gently. Clearly, it was an important item to her father.

“Dad,” she spoke softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You miss Adam.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing. “W-what? No, I don’t! He—he got what he deserved. I don’t care if—if—if he’s hurt…”

Charlie tilted her head in disagreement. “I’ve noticed it too. It’s strange that Adam isn’t in the meetings anymore. Emily…”

With a soft sigh, Lucifer dropped the fake happy persona he’d been putting on. His face immediately fell, and he swung himself over, sitting next to Charlie. “I think I really hurt him.”

“You were only protecting me,” Charlie said quietly, her eyes gazing down at the rubber duck in her hand. “He...was trying to kill me.”

“He wasn’t,” Lucifer said quickly, making Charlie blink in surprise. “I mean, I don’t know if he genuinely hated you, but he wasn’t trying to kill you. He was trying to scare you. Adam—Heaven in general weren’t allowed to attempt to kill you. It was the contract between me and Heaven, so I wouldn’t get involved in the Exterminations.”

Charlie’s face scrunched up in sadness and pain.

“I was only trying to scare him. I wanted to punish him for even trying to hurt you, for even threatening you. But the truth is, Charlie, I know better,” Lucifer groaned, running a claw down his face.

“What...what do you mean?” Charlie asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

Lucifer didn’t speak at first. He hunched his shoulders, arching his back. He rested his elbow on his thigh and tapped his clawed fingers to his chin. Lucifer carefully plucked the Adam rubber duck from Charlie’s hand and gazed down at it. “I was one of the top beings of Heaven. I was a Seraphim. The eldest of them all. I know how Heaven works. I know how it ticks.”

“Dad…” Charlie whispered, a bone-chilling coldness creeping into her heart. “Dad...are you…?”

“I doubt Adam acted alone. I mean, I haven’t seen him outside of the meetings in years, but I can't imagine the Adam I knew from Eden descending into Hell to slaughter thousands of Sinners,” Lucifer murmured, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the mountain of ducks before him. “Whether he agreed with your plan or not, the Adam I remember, who adored animals and wept when a lion attacked a deer, would never willingly lead an army to kill thousands.”

Charlie's hands clenched together, her knuckles turning white. “Dad, are you suggesting…?”

“I’m not suggesting, Charlie,” Lucifer said harshly. “I’m saying he was ordered to. You don’t defy Heaven. I am living proof of what happens when you do. It might not excuse his actions, but it is something to consider.”

Charlie covered her mouth, her face contorting in anguish. She made a choked sound, barely holding back tears. “I never thought about it that way…”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Lucifer admitted, a rare vulnerability in his voice. He closed his claws around a duck, holding it close to his chest. “I’m so...stressed.”

Charlie looked at Lucifer, her sympathy pouring out like a flood. “That’s why I came to see you. I figured you weren’t using your room back at the hotel.”

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” Lucifer flinched. “I just…”

“You don’t need to explain. I already know,” she smiled weakly, placing a comforting hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “I was thinking, maybe you should go on vacation?”

“Vacation?” Lucifer repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Me? The nonexistent King of Hell? I’ve only just begun to take my role seriously. Can you imagine what they will say if I just up and leave now? After that battle? I will never hear the end of it.”

With a broken, exhausted groan, Lucifer buried his face in his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars. Who knew taking the role of King of Hell seriously would be so draining?

"I just need five minutes. That's all. I'll be better in five minutes," he said.

Charlie wasn't sure if Lucifer was speaking to her or himself. It was clearly a lie. She rubbed his shoulder, worry etching her face. It was the first time she truly saw her father for who he really was—a sad, broken man. She had been too young to understand, to see the depths of his depression.

"Dad, this isn't healthy," she spoke softly. "None of this is healthy for you. You're...you're practically killing yourself."

Lucifer's head snapped up, his eyes wild. "What are you talking about? I'm fine! I'm okay, you don't need to worry!"

"Dad..." Charlie deadpanned, gesturing to the piles of ducks around them. "You're not fine. You need time, and no, I don't mean time here. Locking yourself away in a dark, damp, and cold mansion isn't going to help you. If you don’t feel comfortable being at the hotel with me, then let me send you on vacation away from the Pride Ring. Away from Hell."

In that moment, she looked every bit the Princess of Hell, and someday, the Queen. Lucifer's chest swelled with pride, but only for a fleeting second before everything crumbled again.

"Charlie, I can't really go anywhere," he said weakly. "It's kind of you to offer, but I can't leave Hell. I'm bound to Hell."

Charlie grinned widely, a reflection of him. "I thought about that. I think you should go to Earth."

"Earth?" Lucifer repeated, eyebrows raised. "Once again, I can't leave Hell. I am bound to Hell."

"You can if you're summoned," Charlie sang, pride evident in her voice. "If someone summoned you and you entered into a contract. Say, a week-long contract of relaxing?"

That was true. By the law of Heaven, Earth, and Hell, the only way the devil himself could leave Hell was by contractual summoning. He used to be summoned frequently in the earlier years. But as humans grew more corrupt, they stopped believing in Lucifer and ceased summoning him. In many ways, it had been a blessing in disguise. After being trapped in Hell for so long, being summoned to Earth and seeing the blue skies had been wonderful. But it hurt doubly when he returned to Hell.

Lucifer could foresee that aching pain returning if he agreed to Charlie's plan. He saw the flaws in it. It was almost laughable, really. But at the same time, Lucifer's heart fluttered in a way it hadn't in centuries. He wanted out. He needed time away from Hell, from his depressed room filled with ducks. He needed to clear his mind, clear his head, and come back with a fresh perspective.

"And who would be foolish enough to summon the King of Hell?" Lucifer asked, eyeing his beloved daughter. "Because last time I checked, humans aren’t exactly summoning demons anymore."

They no longer needed to. Humans had become so corrupt that they didn’t need Hell or demons to commit terrible and awful crimes against humanity. They did it themselves now, which honestly proved everything Heaven feared. There was so much Charlie didn’t know—the true reason Heaven would never let Sinners through the golden gates.

"Alastor knows somebody," Charlie began before pouting when Lucifer’s face soured. "Dad, please. He isn’t that bad!"

"Of course he is," he grumbled sullenly. "He knows somebody who would summon the King of Hell himself! Unbelievable!"

"He’s trying to help!" Charlie insisted. "It’s an old family friend. She’s old, on the verge of death herself, but she owes Alastor a favor still."

Lucifer scoffed. "You mean she summoned Alastor, and now he owns her soul. What did he offer her? Freedom from their deal if she does this little favor for him? Out of the goodness of his heart?"

Fucking bullshit. His hair stood on end, and his skin prickled when Charlie simply continued to stare. Clearly, he had hit the nail on the head.

"Charlie!" Lucifer exclaimed, his body twitching, the burn on his back forming with his wings beginning to burst out. If Alastor had tricked his little girl! "How did you get this favor? What did you offer?"

Charlie held her hands up. "Calm down. It’ll only be for a week. There are no strings attached. I didn’t make a deal with Alastor or anything. He just overheard Vaggie and me and said he could offer his assistance."

"For free?" Lucifer growled, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

The Princess of Hell groaned deeply. "Dad, please. This is a great opportunity for you! You said so yourself, you’re drowning in here! You need time away from Hell, from this mansion, and everything else! From Heaven and its rules! It’s only a week!"

"Anything can happen in a week," Lucifer shot back. "It’s too dangerous. I don’t trust him."

Charlie released a deep, exhausted sigh. She stood up and crossed her arms, looking away sheepishly before glancing back. "Well...you don’t really have a choice, Dad."

"What?" Lucifer blinked slowly, his eyebrows creasing. "What do you mean I don’t have a choice?"

Charlie breathed in deeply, a twitchy smile spreading across her lips. "I mean...it’s already been arranged. You’re going to be summoned at dawn."

"Charlie!"

[misteria247]

I need professional help at this rate I'm gonna end up writing an actual fic based on this bullshit when will I learn smh-

When Timmy loses his memories everyone reacts differently.

Spongebob is immediately upset and actually ends up breaking down. Because Timmy's one of his closest friends and his fellow free spirit of their team. So having essentially his other half of fun look at him unsure or uneasy like hits the sponge right in the chest. Despite his heartbreak over Timmy and his condition, Spongebob is the first one to try and reconnect with the magic user. He'll talk and ramble and recall events that they all experienced. In the vain hope that it might spark Timmy's memory and help him. But alas magic isn't always fair but that doesn't stop Spongebob from trying. Even when late at night when Timmy's gone to his room and everyone's retired for the day and he goes to his room and just sobs over the agony of losing Timmy, SpongeBob will continue to try to help for Timmy's sake.

Danny's reaction on the other hand is rage. Rage on behalf of Timmy, his little brother. Rage towards the threats that caused all this devastation amongst them. He's already planning on making them suffer in a nasty way. Because no one hurts his family and gets away Scott free. Other than anger, Danny also can't help but grieve. In a sick twisted way, Timmy not remembering any of them is like seeing his little brother die. To look at his guarded blue gaze is like looking at a stranger wearing Timmy's skin. And when Timmy flinches from Danny, it's like having a bucket of ice water thrown on him. Because Timmy has never done something like this. Never shown fear to the man who's partially dead and who has urges that can hurt someone when he's a ghost. It's an awful and bone chilling experience for Danny that makes him stare into the bathroom mirror wondering if Timmy had always been afraid of him that entire time. He doesn't go to Timmy right away, but he does become more protective of him.

Cosmo and Wanda's reactions is pure devastation. The two fairies can't help but grieve and torment themselves over Timmy's condition. Because they're his parents, they're supposed to protect him and instead they failed him. Wanda will hover around him, always keeping her distance to not make him comfortable. She's always fretting a bit, not wanting Timmy out of her sight. Cosmo on the other hand takes up the role of reassuring everyone that'll it'll be okay. Putting on a brave front for his wife and scared son because they need the support even if one of them doesn't realize it. Both fairies are scarily protective of him now, and work tirelessly to try to figure out how to help their son.

Yet out of everyone Jimmy takes it the hardest. He's immediately filled with guilt and frustration over the situation. Guilt for not being on top of his game and failing as a leader, and frustrated that Timmy Turner once again put himself in harms way to protect someone else. Timmy losing his memories essentially knocks Jimmy's world off its axis. Everything feels wrong and Jimmy suddenly feels so very alone as it becomes painstakingly obvious how much space Timmy took up in his life. He'll find himself lost on how to approach Timmy, not wanting to have him look at him like he's expecting Jimmy to hurt him. Experiencing it once was enough to last the genius a lifetime of haunting nightmares. He'll lock himself up in his lab, researching nonstop to try and fix it. In a way Jimmy will throw himself into denial about how bad this situation is because facing the reality is just too much for Jimmy to process properly. He works himself to the point of exhaustion because nothing is more important than Timmy. He'll literally tear the multiverse apart if it means saving Timmy's memories. He refuses to think about the other option. The possibility that Timmy will never remember them.

[diejager]

Hi Joyce! This is my first time asking an author on this application, I saw you opened requests, so I have a little idea. What if this is like a side story/spin off from humans! reader x monster! 141TF AU's.

Where the reader (female) dies after giving birth to their child. And the husbands don't really take the news well, especially when their child is so physically/personality similar to the reader.

(if you read the webtoon who made me a princess then you know what I mean :) )

Thank you! Hope im didnt bother you

I’m honoured to be your first ask 🥺

Vestige Cw: angst, death, childbirth complications, single parenting, heartbreak, tell me if I missed any.

They hadn’t expected this to happen. They hadn’t expected this to be the last they’d see you. It was an unfortunate incident, they were told, a freak one that caused you to haemorrhage and they couldn’t bring you back despite how fast they acted to stop you from bleeding out. It felt like their world ended, the little light in the dark and traumatic place extinguished, a cataclysmic boom that sent their morals low and mind deeper into depression. Some drowned themselves in substance, others in physical pain to feel something other than heartache and agony, and a few were left silent, unmoving and mute. 

But they had a little baby to care for, the last vestige of your love and presence. It was a gift from you to the people you loved, a memory of the times you all shared smiles and joy as much as you shared tears and sorrow. It was the light at the end of a particularly difficult hallway, shocking them back into reality like a bucket of ice water. They had to care and nurture a child —their sweet and innocent angel. She reminded them of you so, so much that it hurt.

“Yer a wee thing, aye?” Soap had always been the first to care, the first to love and the first to act. It might’ve been hard to provide for a child as a single father, but their sweet angel was as much theirs as his, a gift to share. 

The first days were rough, none knew how to properly care for themselves, let alone a week old child! It was a slow start, passing a crying baby from one arms to the other without any idea of what to do. It was only until the eldest - Price, Alejandro and König - changed tones and put aside everything else to search up for childcare. In all honestly, they all had years of built up breaks that they rarely used to keep themselves busy to drive away the demons and keep their minds sound. 

Little Jesse was shared between them, they took shifts separated equally to let the others rest or research. Soap, Gaz, Horangi and Rudy naturally fit with Jesse, capable of looking at her when she had her little mood swings and occasional tantrums. Soap and Rudy were prone to watch over her when she felt especially excited, hands grabbing and toothless gum biting, flaying her arms around to grasp at something to tug. Horangi and Gaz were softer, more mellow and made to supervise her when she was dozing off or on the edge of exhaustion, toes and fingers curling to hold someone’s hand to sleep. 

Ghost was a little apprehensive about touching her, fearful that his curse would infect her, that everything he touched died, even the prettiest and most lively flower wilted in his presence. But König, a big and dangerous monster like the Austrian, showed him how even the most dangerous beasts could be a protector and provider. It was a slow process but he eventually made it where he could look at her the same way the others did, a perfect ball of sunshine. 

How could they not love her? When she was the perfect copy of you, taking so many characteristics from you than them. She had the same eyes and nose, the equally bright smile and flushing cheeks and the shade of hair. And as she grew older, they could see your personality shine through her, you gave her as much of yourself as you could, hoping it would quell the heartache and agony.

Jesse was their favourite regret. 

Taglist : @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry

[estellan0vella]

Betrayed Affections ❀ Uraume (REQUESTED) Masterlist Pt 1

The moon hangs heavy in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the tall windows of the ancient estate. You wander the silent halls, your footsteps barely making a sound on the polished stone floors.

The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the gardens outside. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, your heart a fragile thing, broken and aching in your chest.

Uraume. The name echoes in your mind like a bitter mantra, each repetition a fresh stab of pain. Your lover, your confidant, your trusted companion. You had believed in them, had given them your heart without reservation. And they had taken it, only to shatter it with their betrayal.

You had stumbled upon them in the midst of their treachery, their lips pressed against those of a servant girl, their hands caressing her with the same tenderness they once reserved for you.

The sight had stolen your breath, leaving you frozen in place, disbelief and heartbreak warring within you. When they had finally noticed you, their eyes wide with shock, it had been too late. The damage was done.

Now, with nowhere else to turn, you find yourself standing before the grand doors of your brother's chamber. Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, feared and revered in equal measure. He is your elder brother, your protector, the one constant in your life. Taking a deep breath, you push the doors open and step inside.

The room is dimly lit, the flickering flames of candles casting long shadows on the walls. Sukuna lounges on a throne-like chair, his imposing figure relaxed yet exuding an aura of power. His four eyes, sharp and discerning, flicker up to meet yours as you enter. He takes in your tear-streaked face, the anguish in your eyes, and his expression softens slightly, a rare sight for anyone else but you.

"Brother," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling. "I... I need you."

He rises from his chair, his movements fluid and graceful. As he approaches, you can feel the familiar warmth of his presence, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that has settled in your heart. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to melt into his strength, the tears flowing freely.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him. "Uraume... they betrayed me. With a servant girl."

For a moment, there's silence as Sukuna's face hardens in anger and there's a trace of pain in his eyes as if he feels the agony in your heart. "They dare to hurt you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You will not suffer alone, sister."

He holds you until your sobs subside, his presence a solid anchor in your storm of emotions. Despite his fearsome reputation, Sukuna's touch is gentle, his embrace a haven of safety you desperately need. His fingers brush through your hair, and he lets you cry until there's nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest.

"I will make them pay," he promises, his voice soft but laced with steel. "But first, you need to confront them. Show them the strength they underestimated."

"Not today," You murmur. "I fear if I do it today, I shall only cry"

Sukuna nods understandingly, his grip on you loosening just enough to allow you some space. "That is fine, sister," he says, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. "You don't have to confront them until you're ready. Take all the time you need."

You offer him a weak smile, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thank you, Sukuna," you say softly, the words barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would do without you."

He returns your smile, his four eyes gleaming with warmth. "You will never have to find out," he assures you, his tone filled with conviction. "I will always be here for you, no matter what."

You lean into his embrace once more, drawing strength from his presence. For a while, you simply stand there in silence, the weight of your heartbreak easing ever so slightly in his company.

Eventually, Sukuna pulls back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders as he meets your gaze. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sister?" he asks, his voice gentle yet firm.

You shake your head, a small sigh escaping your lips. "Just... stay with me a little longer," you request, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Sukuna nods, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he says, his tone reassuring. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me."

When you finally confront Uraume, they are with the servant girl again, their laughter cutting through you like a knife. The room falls silent as you enter, your heart pounding in your chest. Uraume's eyes widen with shock and something else—guilt, perhaps?—as they see you and Sukuna standing together.

"How could you?" you whisper, your voice trembling but determined. "How could you betray me like this?"

Uraume steps forward, reaching out to you, but Sukuna's growl stops them in their tracks. "Don't you dare touch her," he snarls. "You've done enough damage."

Tears well up in your eyes again, but you blink them away, refusing to let Uraume see you break. "I loved you," you say, your voice steadier now. "I trusted you. And this is how you repay me?"

"I... I'm sorry," Uraume stammers, their eyes flicking nervously to Sukuna, whose gaze is fixed on them with murderous intensity. "It was a mistake, a moment of weakness—"

"A mistake?" you echo, incredulous. "A moment of weakness that has been going on behind my back? How long, Uraume? How long have you been betraying me?"

They look down, unable to meet your eyes. "A few months," they admit quietly. "But it meant nothing, I swear—"

"Nothing?" The word feels like a slap. "It meant everything to me. You meant everything to me."

Sukuna steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, his presence a calming force. "You don't have to forgive them," he says quietly, his eyes never leaving Uraume's. "And they need to understand the consequences of their actions."

A heavy silence falls over the room. Uraume looks like they want to say more, to plead for your forgiveness, but the presence of your brother seems to hold them in check. 

"This is the one?" he asks, his tone deadly as he looks at the servant girl who is cowering in fear.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from Uraume's face. "Yes."

In a blur of motion, Sukuna is upon the servant girl. She barely has time to scream before his hand plunges into her chest, tearing out her heart with brutal efficiency. Blood splatters the ground, and the girl's lifeless body crumples at his feet. Uraume watches in horror, their face pale and stricken.

Sukuna turns to Uraume, holding the still-beating heart in his hand before he drops it at Uraume's feet. "This is what you deserve," Sukuna says, his voice cold and final. "Betrayal is met with punishment."

You watch, numb, as Uraume cradles the dead girl in their arms, sobbing. The sight of their pain does little to soothe your own, but there's a grim satisfaction in seeing them suffer for what they've done.

"Her death is your burden to bear," You say to Uraume. "Her blood is on your hands"

When Uraume finally looks up, their eyes red-rimmed and swollen with tears, there's a pleading desperation in their gaze. "My Lady, please," they beg, their voice choked with emotion. "I... I didn't mean for this to happen. I love you, I swear it."

You feel a pang in your chest at their words, a small part of you still clinging to the love you once shared. But it's overshadowed by the overwhelming sense of betrayal, the knowledge that they had chosen someone else over you.

"It's too late for apologies," you say, your voice cold and distant. "You made your choice, Uraume. And now you have to live with the consequences."

Sukuna steps forward, his eyes narrowed in contempt. "Your words are meaningless now," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You have proven yourself unworthy of my sister's love. Just as I knew you would"

Uraume's shoulders slump in defeat, the weight of their actions finally settling upon them. They bow their head, unable to meet your gaze. "I understand," they whisper, their voice barely audible. "I deserve whatever punishment you see fit."

"Your punishment is not for me to decide," he says, his eyes flickering to you. "It is for my sister to determine."

You look at Uraume, their form hunched and broken before you, and for a moment, you feel a twinge of pity. But it's quickly overshadowed by the anger and hurt that still simmers within you.

"You will never be forgiven," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. "You are to never serve me personally in this estate, you are to spend your life in servitude to my brother. Whatever he asks of you, you shall do. But know this Uraume, you shall never know love or happiness for as long as I breathe. Any time I see you with a flicker of joy, I shall tear away the source of it"

Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms as he watches you lean down to be eye level with Uraume as poison drips from the words you say.

"There is some darkness in you after all sister," Sukuna says approvingly before he glances at Uraume, his tone turning harsh. "Leave us. Return later to clear up this mess"

As Uraume stumbles away, their steps heavy with the weight of their punishment, you feel a mixture of relief and emptiness wash over you. The air feels heavy with tension as you turn to face Sukuna, his presence towering beside you like a looming shadow.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you like a taut thread. Then, Sukuna breaks it with a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"You certainly know how to deliver punishment, sister," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "I almost feel sorry for Uraume."

You glance at him, surprised by the hint of amusement in his tone. "You don't think it was too harsh?"

Sukuna shakes his head, his expression serious now. "No," he says firmly. "Uraume betrayed you, and they must face the consequences of their actions. Your punishment was just. I would have executed them"

You nod, a sense of validation washing over you at his words. "Thank you, Sukuna," you say quietly, gratitude colouring your tone.

He reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You don't have to thank me, sister," he says, his voice softening. "I will always stand by your side, no matter what."

You feel a lump form in your throat at his words, a swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Sukuna may be feared by many, but to you, he is more than just the King of Curses. He is your brother, your protector, the one constant in your life.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna's grip tightens slightly, a reassuring squeeze that fills you with warmth. "You will never have to find out," he says, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I will always be here for you, sister. Always."

[starclancy]

Request: I adored your little Sanji fluffy drabble! The dialogue was so charming, I kept giggling at Sanji's lines.

If you're up to write more of him, can I request a scenario with fem!reader where she's new to the crew and still doesn't know about Sanji's "never ever hurt a woman rule"? I love the idea of Sanji having a bad luck streak when she joins that makes him accidentally hurt the reader (spilling hot tea on her, elbowing her in the ribs cause he was gesticulating too wildly, in general him being uncharacteristically clumsy around her). It would be as fun to read for me as heartbreaking for Sanji to live through lmao Bonus points if the reader starts to think he might just actually dislike her and he's being passive-aggresive about suddenly having her around all the time!

Of course, no pressure no write any of this if it's not your style xoxo

Thank you! this is a great request and i loved writing it!

~ Stirring Trouble ~

PAIRING: Fem!Reader/Sanji

CONTENTS: 💔 - angst / 🩷 - fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1010

Request status: Open

The Thousand Sunny was alive with the hum of activity as its new crew member—you—tried to find her place. You hadn’t been aboard long, but you’d already learned one thing: fitting in with this crew of chaotic misfits was no easy task.

Particularly when it came to him.

Sanji.

Blond hair swept back, suit sharp even in the heat of battle, and a voice that could make compliments sound like poetry. He was charming, flirtatious, and seemingly smooth as butter. Or so you thought—until you joined the crew.

It started innocently enough.

“Tea for the lovely new addition,” Sanji had said during breakfast your first morning. You smiled, reaching for the cup. Then—disaster.

His hand twitched. Maybe it was a sudden sway of the ship or just bad luck, but before you could grab the cup, its contents splashed right onto your hand.

“Ah!” you yelped, jerking back.

Sanji’s face drained of color. “Oh, no—no! My goddess, I’m so sorry! Did I burn you? Let me see!”

You waved him off with an awkward laugh. “It’s fine, really! Just caught me off guard.”

But that wasn’t the end of it.

Later that day, you stood in the galley as Sanji gestured wildly while recounting a story to Usopp. You turned to grab a plate when his elbow jabbed you—hard—in the ribs.

“Ow!”

Sanji froze mid-sentence. His face turned pale again. “Oh no, did I—?!”

You clutched your side, blinking at him in confusion. “It’s okay. Just… be careful, maybe?”

From there, it only got worse. A flurry of small but noticeable accidents followed: bumping into you while carrying a pot of soup, knocking over a chair you were about to sit in, accidentally flinging flour at you during prep. Each time, Sanji’s face twisted in agony as he apologized profusely.

At first, you chalked it up to nerves. Maybe he was just unused to you being there. But after the fourth or fifth incident, you began to wonder if there was something more.

~ A Few Days Later ~

By the time you’d been with the crew for nearly a week, you couldn’t shake the thought that Sanji might dislike you.

He was sweet and doting to everyone else: Zoro got hearty portions of food despite their bickering; Nami had fresh fruit delivered to her lounging spot; Robin got delicate pastries with her afternoon tea.

And you? Well, if clumsy spills and near-constant accidents were “attention,” you weren’t sure you wanted it.

Your growing frustration finally boiled over during dinner prep. You were helping chop vegetables when Sanji accidentally nudged a bowl of chopped onions, sending it flying toward your lap.

“Seriously?!” you snapped, standing up abruptly as the bowl clattered to the floor.

Sanji’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Do you have some kind of problem with me?” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “Because if you do, just say it. All this passive-aggressive nonsense is driving me insane.”

The room fell silent. Even Luffy paused mid-bite, a rare sight.

“Passive… aggressive?” Sanji repeated, his voice faint.

“You keep spilling things, elbowing me, tripping me—I get it, you don’t want me here!”

Sanji staggered back, clutching his chest like your words had physically struck him. “What?! I would never—!”

“Then what is it?” you demanded. “Because I’m tired of feeling like some kind of walking target!”

Sanji dropped to his knees so fast you thought he might’ve lost consciousness. “Mon dieu, please forgive me! I’m such a clumsy fool!” He grabbed your hands desperately, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

You blinked, startled. “Wait… what?”

“I swear on my honor as a chef, I would rather throw myself into the Grand Line than harm you! I—” He took a shaky breath. “I’ve been nervous. You’re so… radiant, and perfect, and I—” He looked away, guilt written all over his face. “I think my admiration is making me act like an idiot. I can’t help it!”

The room went deathly quiet for a moment. Then, from across the room:

“Pfft—”

Luffy burst into laughter, followed by Usopp and Chopper. Even Zoro snorted behind his sake cup.

“Sanji, you’re an idiot,” Nami muttered, shaking her head fondly.

You stared at him, heat rushing to your face. “Wait, so… you don’t hate me?”

“Hate you?!” He looked horrified. “I worship the ground you walk on!”

The honesty in his voice made your heart skip a beat.

“…Oh.” You glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He knelt there, still holding your hands, his face red but sincere. “Please forgive me, my goddess. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Anything,” he vowed solemnly.

“…Okay. You can start by helping me clean up this mess.”

Sanji sprang to his feet, a hand on his heart. “It would be my honor.”

As he scrambled to fetch a broom, you couldn’t help but laugh softly. Maybe fitting in with this crew wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[blissfullyapillow]

┃It’s always you

₊˚⊹♡Jing Yuan x gn reader

₊˚⊹♡‎wc: 2,357~

₊˚⊹♡warnings: suicide (reader), angst with a happy ending, death & rebirth, soulmate au type beat 

₊˚⊹♡notes: I’ve been obsessing over Blade lately but Jing Yuan remains to be the OG lmao. On a serious note: I rediscovered the song Back 2 You by Selena Gomez during a time of emotional turmoil and.. voila.  I originally wasn’t going to upload this. I was gonna scrap it or just keep it for me, for personal use, but I decided to post it after I revised it. I wrote this for personal reasons I will not delve into, but I hope this helps someone else as much as it helped me. You’re loved, and there’s always someone out there who will listen, understand, and love you. I promise. ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

₊˚⊹♡Main Masterlist

Jing Yuan’s experienced many relationships before, ranging from platonic to romantic in nature.

Yet the end of said relationships failed to pierce his heart as deeply as his heartbreak for you.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

He still remembers that day vividly.

Your slumped figure sitting in a pool of your own blood, with a letter loosely held in your cold hands.

The rest of the scene became a blur, as his vision became clouded with tears.

a rare occurrence for a man like Jing Yuan.

He partly blamed himself, even though he knew your actions weren’t a reflection or a result of his own actions or feelings.

his heart lurched as a broken sob racked his trembling form. Still, he gently removed the beautiful parchment from your lifeless hand to scour your last words.

your written declaration of love and gratitude, for him, brought a self-deprecating smile to his lips. Your words are so powerful and moving, yet your body lay lifeless before him.

He takes a shuddering breath as his eyes slowly trail up your slumped figure. his fingers curl around your letter as his heart stops.

The sight of a dagger plunged deeply into your chest, directly into your heart, is all it takes for his soul to cry in agony.

His throat constricts, and his lungs fail to adequately exchange oxygen, yet…

He refuses to look away; he does not dare to tear his eyes away from the love of his life, even in her demise.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Jing Yuan never hid from the public eye. Even with the tragic, countless losses his heart continued to endure, he never resided in solitude for long.

…

Your death was the first time he remained in seclusion.

He knows you belong to the Vidyadhara, a humanoid race, so your body will be repaired.

but..

Your memories of him, of the time you two spent together, will not remain.

He doesn’t even know if he’ll encounter you again in his lifetime, but the possibility is high.

So, he waits.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

After Jing Yuan’s long period of seclusion following your death, he resumed work.

On a particularly slow day Fu Xuan stopped by to see the general of the Luofu. She knew of your fate, and although she was loath to admit it she was concerned for the general.

When she saw that lazy smile on his lips, she almost chided herself for being worried.

That is, until she realized his smile didn't meet his eyes.

She entertained small talk with the general as contemplated how to broach her concerns with the grief-stricken general. As the conversation slowly trailed off, she steeled herself. 

The Master Diviner braced herself for backlash as she gave the general unsolicited advice… albeit from the goodness of her heart; the general is a sloth at times, much to her annoyance, but she truly did wish him well. 

So, with that in mind, she cautioned him that if he were to meet your reincarnation he should not engage and move on.

Even as his lazy smile morphed into a deep rooted frown, she continued on. She informed him that there’s no guarantee your fate will differ from your past life, even if you two reunite.

Although Fu Xuan’s words struck a nerve, he knew she was coming from a good place.

After a brief farewell he watched her retreating figure. He considered her advice despite his reluctance. 

Though it pained him to admit it, her words were not ill advised. 

Maybe.. he should try to move on.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

He tried to heed Fu Xuan’s warning.. in his own way. 

He attempted another relationship, but shortly broke it off.

He deemed it a fruitless endeavor since his thoughts were filled with you as he was lying beside someone else. He’d hate to be inauthentic, so he did what was best for him and his brief companion.

It feels like millennia pass by as he moves through the motions. His duties as general serve as a welcome distraction for his desolate heart. 

Now, his droopy eyes rove over words that seemingly blur together as he reaches the end of the document. Once his signature is elegantly signed on the bottom of the document, he leans back in his seat to indulge in a brief moment of rest.

His sleep addled brain immediately thinks of you, as it usually does.

He reminisces about his very first encounter with you. 

He had made a visit to a bookstore with hopes of finding an engaging book that could be a much needed distraction from work.

Preferably, a book about cats.

He took his time to scan the vast array of books the store had to offer. His eyes lit up with unbridled joy as he found what he was looking for. 

He reached for the book, but before he could grasp it someone bumped into him from behind. When he turned around, there you were.

Your eyes were glazed over. It was obvious you were daydreaming about something and your mind was elsewhere. It took a few moments, but your eyes came into focus. 

As your anxious orbs stared into his eyes, he winked at you.  

He laughed at your flustered reaction; you began to apologize profusely as you tried to look anywhere but at him.

He didn’t know it at the time, but he would grow fond of your clumsy actions. 

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Subconsciously, a smile forms on his lips as he remembers the adorable smile you graced him with when he dismissed your apologies. 

In contrast to his smile, a pained sigh leaves his lips. He’s struggling to recall the name of the bookstore.

After you died he avoided going anywhere near that bookstore. He physically couldn’t handle walking down that path, that same path you used to always accompany him on.

To those close to him, it was fairly obvious that your death impacted him greatly. Unfortunately they could only do so much to alleviate their general’s heartache.

Jing Yuan hated Yanqing’s blatant concern when he purposely took the long way back to his office. Even so, Jing Yuan continued to avoid the route all together, for many years. 

He evades it to this day.

He forces his heavy eyes to open, staring at nothing as he tries to snuff his beautiful memories of you.

…

….

He slowly puts the signed document down with a despondent groan. 

It’s no use.

For some reason, he can’t stop thinking about that bookstore.

…it feels like he’s forgetting something important.

His mind reels as he desperately tries to recall the name of the bookstore. His eyebrows crease in concentration once the name of the bookstore is on the tip of his tongue. 

Come on Jing Yuan, it shouldn’t take you this long to- 

Ah, he remembers now.

Jing Yuan looks down at the paper as he mindlessly fiddles with it. He doesn’t know why, but he feels compelled to visit the bookstore once more after so many years. However, with every fiber of his being, he tries to quell the urge. His finger taps against his knee as his leg bounces. 

He detests how easily he wants to give in. 

He’s avoided the store for years, so why does he-

…

Wait. 

He shoots up from his seat.

He’s quick to scan the document he signed until he finds the date. Once his eyes land on their target, he feels the air leave his lungs like someone punched him. 

Ah.

It’s the day you…

He takes a sharp intake of breath. His knee resumes bouncing as his heart pounds against his chest.

He moves abruptly, heading for the door. 

Some papers flutter off his desk due to his erratic movements. He pays no mind to the wayward documents as he swiftly leaves his office.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Jing Yuan finds himself walking down a road he hasn’t set eyes on in years. The esteemed man admires laughing children and busy salespeople as he walks down the familiar path.

It feels like a weight is lifted from his chest as he continues to walk. A tentative smile reaches his lips as he draws closer to the bookstore.

His heart threatens to burst from his chest as the sign comes into view so he stops walking to take a deep breath. 

He closes his eyes and centers himself. 

He focuses on the sounds of life around him; His trained ears pick up the sound of laughter, of footsteps that rush past him, of a baby babbling… 

Once he’s composed himself he completes his journey to the bookstore.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Honestly, he’s fond of this bookstore. It is where he first met you after all.

He leisurely peruses the books in stock as he smiles at the seller. They gaze at him curiously with a tentative smile in silent reply. They’re obviously surprised that the General of the Cloud Knights is here to pay a visit to their bookstore. 

He scans the selection one more time. When he doesn’t find anything of interest, he says his farewell to the shop owner. 

He did what he came here to do. He’s proud of himself for walking down this route after so much time has passed. He feels the best he ever has in years.

This was a healing experience for him. 

He turns around, ready to return to the many documents that await his approval and revision. He unwittingly bumps into someone during his haste, and blood rushes to his cheeks as he quickly apologizes.

The person stumbles backwards, but he’s quick to reach out and steady them. His eyes quickly scan the figure as he opens his mouth to apologize once again, and..

Oh.

Oh my.

The words die in his throat.

His heart leaps out of his chest and into the hands of the beautiful person in front of him.

You.

 He knows it’s you; your pretty features are permanently engraved in his memory.

Your expression is one of surprise, yet a subconscious smile, reminiscent of a past life, graces your beautiful lips.

His mouth parts in shock as his skin runs cold. He releases you to subtly wipe his clammy hands on his pants.

He regrets letting go of you immediately.

Your head tilts as you stare at him, and an ethereal smile presents itself on your lips.

The same lips he dreams about every night. 

The same lips he achingly yearns to kiss once more. 

He instinctively tilts his body in your direction. 

“General!? It’s a pleasure to meet you! Am I in your way? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

His Adam's Apple bops as he tunes out the rest of your words. His eyes remain zeroed in on your lips. They only look up when your lips stop moving. 

Golden eyes blatantly admire the sparkle of amusement in your gorgeous orbs.

He longs to pull you into his arms; he’s missed you so much. He was uncertain if he’d ever meet you again, and he didn’t know he’d do if he did.

He hopes you aren’t facing the same struggles you previously were. If you are, he won't hesitate to do everything in his power, and more, to prevent the same outcome from occurring. 

“I.. I missed-“ 

His voice… it’s..

Strained. 

Hoarse. 

In desperate need of water.

He coughs into his fist as an embarrassed blush graces his cheeks. In his urgency to reconnect with you, he forgot that you won’t remember him. You don’t know him since you’ve clearly molted, and everyone knows the memories of the Vidyadhara unfortunately don’t carry over.

But oh he hopes you’ll spend this lifetime you have with him.

All of it.

So he settles for an elated smile. His heart flounders in your hands when you visibly become flustered; you look down as a shy smile manifests itself on your divine lips.

He falls in love with you all over again. 

Oh, how he loves you.

“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours over it, I’d hate to see a frown mar those ravishing lips. The fault lies with me. ..As a way for me to amend my mistake, why don’t you accompany me on a walk?” His velvety voice makes you swoon, and you fail to hide how giddy you feel. 

With a knowing smirk he offers his arm to you, but you hesitate to accept his offer. 

“Are you sure, General? I may not own anything of interest, but I’m sure I can-“ “Oh, but you do. Please, indulge me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you see a glint of… something.. within them. You aren’t sure what it is.

Although his words leave you confused, you oblige. Your arm wraps itself snugly in his and your body moves closer to his own. 

His eyes water with unshed tears as he fails to mask his euphoria. His wobbly smile is the last thing you see before he hides his face from your view.

You remain none the wiser to the tear that managed to escape.

As you both walk up the road he’s avoided for years, his gaze trails back to you once more. He chuckles at the flagrant jubilation on your enchanting face. You were always bad at masking your emotions around him.

He initiates a conversation with you, and it isn’t long before he’s blessed with your melodious laugh.

He hopes that he’ll be able to revive the object of interest that you own.

His heart.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

As the years go by you grow close to Jing Yuan once more. You successfully revive his previously shattered heart, and you make him the happiest man in the universe when you agree to marry him. You remain by each other’s side for eternity, and in this lifetime of yours he’s proud to say he was able to grow old with you.

P.S: He always reunites with you after you molt, and you two continuously fall in love with each other in every life that you have.

There’s no one else he’d rather spend his immortality with than you.  

[iwrite-xo]

-- Healing sucks ass.

" I don’t think people truly understand what healing feels like until they’ve gone through it themselves. "

⋆✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Why am I crying at 2 PM simply because I happened to come across a meme they would have loved? Seriously, what kind of fool am I to miss and long for someone who is perfectly fine without me in their life? The worst part is that, at the end of the day, my heart somehow manages to hold on to love for that particular person. I gave up trying to understand my heart a long time ago. Despite attempting to lead with my brain and remain logical, my heart ends up winning arguments 90% of the time, if not 100%.

Whether it be friendships or even romantic interests, it always ends in heartbreak. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the character development I go through later on. That’s a whole other topic to write about, but in short, I feel like a brand-new person.

It’s comparable to a snake shedding its old skin to unveil its striking new pattern, but significantly healthier. I completely understand that life is a constant cycle filled with new experiences and eventually learning to let them go once they’ve served their purpose. But the pain that comes with it? The hurt you have to endure for months on end, wondering when it will finally cease?

I don’t think people truly understand what healing feels like until they’ve gone through it themselves. The constant overthinking about whether or not I made the right choice by letting them go for my own sanity. The urge to reach out to them overpowers any rational thinking. When you finally reach out and things don’t turn out as you wished, you can feel your heart shatter. It’s as if the universe confirms that your time with them has truly ended.

The feeling of your heart constricting in agony due to the heavy realization that you might never encounter them again. The constant replaying of past memories and desperately wishing you could relive them one more time before they slip away. The random breakdowns and confusion as to why that is, especially when you’ve finally been doing okay. The entire journey of it all is this huge pit of never-ending suffering, and at times, it feels impossible to even get out of bed.

So in case you needed to hear this today, healing isn’t linear. It never is and never will be. You will have to go through hell and back with the anguish that comes along with it. It is okay to feel helpless and realize that, despite healing not being an easy journey, it somehow always ends up being one you can reminisce about down the road. Remember, you will never heal by going back to what broke you. Never.

please do support me by reblogging! Thank you!! <33 hope you enjoyed!

[eunseoksimp]

masterlist

"love can be the most exquisite form of agony"

Osaki Shotaro

Golden Boy | nsfw

shotaro is everyone’s favourite person. extremely lovable and kind to those around him, but there’s only so much he can take, especially when you keep pushing his limits.

Hopeless Romantic | sfw

in the quiet corners of your heart, a one-sided yearning blooms—a hopeless romantic lost in dreams of unrequited love. every glance, every fleeting touch, fuels a fire of longing that dances in the shadows, a tender ache that whispers of what could be but never was.

CPR | sfw

amidst the depths of heartbreak and endless gray, where every step felt heavy, you stumbled upon shotaro osaki. his quiet compassion and warmth cut through the cold, offering solace and his gentle presence beginning to mend your shattered heart. with his presence, he pulled you back from the brink, making you believe in the possibility of healing and reminding you what it feels like to be truly alive again.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Song Eunseok

He loves me, he loves me not | slight nsfw

all her life, han yumi was used to those around her making her feel unloved. desperate to fill the want of being desired, she finds love in a place she probably shouldn’t.

He loves me, he loves me not 2 | slight nsfw

eunseok, increasingly obsessed with yumi despite his steady and improving relationship with his girlfriend, begins dedicating all his time to his partner. this shift leaves yumi feeling insecure, hurt, and utterly heartbroken. in response, she starts distancing herself from him, a move that triggers euneok's mental breakdown as he grapples with the consequences of his divided heart.

Between the lines | sfw

the importance of communication and understanding, and the consequences that can arise when those elements are lacking. a relationship in turmoil, leading to frustration and distance between the two individuals.

Care For You | sfw

in the quiet of a fading evening, two souls meet where it all began. emotions simmer beneath the surface, caught between what was and what could be. in the silence, a fragile hope lingers.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Jung Sungchan

Poison | nsfw

the pain and heartache that can come from being involved with someone who is emotionally manipulative, deceitful, and simply not right for you. capturing the essence of the rollercoaster of emotions that one experiences when caught in the grips of a toxic love affair.

Poison 2 | nsfw

in this tumultuous love affair, you were the puppeteer, pulling the strings of sungchan's heart with a cruel precision. the pain and heartache he experienced were the price he paid for the moments of connection you allowed, a constant reminder of the toxic grip you held over him. as the days turned into nights, the line between love and manipulation blurred, leaving you searching for a connection beyond lust.

Coming Down | nsfw

explores the theme of addiction and it’s effects on relationships. the internal conflict of a man caught between the allure of a hedonistic lifestyle, and the genuine love he has for his girlfriend.

Jealousy | nsfw

caught in the throes of a jealous obsession, your feelings for sungchan have grown dangerously intense. relying on him for emotional support, you crave his attention and validation in everything you do. the news of his love for another girl shatters your world, igniting a desperate desire to do anything to keep him by your side.

Hilarious | sfw

sungchan being the asshole ex who doesn’t realise what he’s lost until it’s gone. based off of the song hilarious by charlie puth.

Entangled | sfw

the relationship between you and sungchan is a tumultuous storm, a volatile mix of passion and pain, bound by an intense love that is as toxic as it is profound. sungchan, an underground fighter, using the ring as an outlet for his inner demons and you, clinging to him as you seek solace from your own unhealed wounds. two broken pieces clinging to each other in a toxic dance of dependency and desperation.

Same Mistake | sfw

trapped in a cycle of love and heartbreak, you and sungchan navigate the complexities of a tumultuous relationship. as emotions flare and unspoken truths linger, both of you struggle to break free from the patterns that keep pulling you apart.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Park Wonbin

Infatuation | nsfw

an exploration of secrecy, infidelity, and the complex emotions that arise from these actions. a woman who is in a painful relationship with a man who she loves, but is seen as nothing more than the object of his desires. an unfortunate tale of a woman making a God out of a mortal.

Infatuation 2 | sfw

in the wake of the collapse of your turbulent relationship with wonbin, the arrival of the enigmatic donghyuck offers a glimmer of hope. you seek solace in his genuine compassion, but in return wonbin’s obsessive desperation takes a darker turn. consumed by jealousy and fear of losing you, he resorts to cunning manipulation, exploiting every secret and weakness to reclaim you.

Infatuation 3 | slight nsfw

you finally take wonbin back, hoping to rekindle the love that once burned so brightly. but the pieces of your relationship, shattered by past betrayals, no longer fit together as they once did. as you navigate the fragile threads of a love that has been tarnished, you find yourself spiraling deeper into a web of confusion and pain. a poignant journey through the anguish of clinging to the past, and the inevitable realization that some things, once broken, can never be fully repaired.

West Coast | nsfw

caught in the chaos of fame and forbidden longing, you’re the guitarist in a rising band, battling intense feelings for park wonbin—charismatic, untouchable, and completely unaware of the storm he’s stirred within you. despite the deep adoration you pour into your music, he remains distant, leaving you to grapple with a passion that he’ll never truly return.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Hong Seunghan

Sandstorm | slight nsfw

The complexities of a turbulent relationship between two people who love each other but struggle to see eye to eye. They attempt to compromise and reconcile but realise that with each other, they are like a violent sandstorm.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Lee Sohee

Solace | sfw

the struggles of trying to connect with someone who is deeply guarded and emotionally unavailable.

Wish you Roses | sfw

in a tranquil garden filled with blooming roses, two former lovers, you and sohee, sit together for the first time since the peaceful breakup. surrounded by the fragrant air and golden light, there’s no bitterness, only a quiet understanding that love doesn’t always need to end with pain. instead, like the roses shedding their petals, you release each other with grace, celebrating what was while embracing what will be.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Lee Anton

Stargirl | sfw

anton had passed by many eyes but he seemed to only get lost in yours. the bass guitarist for a popular college band, the supposed opposite of him, taking your position in the light whilst he lurked in the shadows. and yet all he cares about is seeing you shine, his favourite stargirl.

Pleasure is all mine | nsfw

anton finally gives into his hedonistic sexual desires and you just can’t pass up the opportunity.

Siren | sfw

at seonghwa academy, you reign like a queen—flawless, untouchable, and cold as ice. your beauty is your weapon, used to control and manipulate those who fall under your spell. but when you catch the eye of anton, a brooding athlete with a quiet intensity, you meet your match. beneath his silence lies a dark obsession, a twisted desire that mirrors your own. as you engage in a dangerous dance of power and control, the line between.

[perseabeth]

The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.