#i woke up with a fighting spirit this morning

[invisiblerambler]

I want to make one thing abundantly clear. Sydney staying at The Bear especially if Carmy decides to do his part in getting his shit together is not her "accepting less than she deserves" it's her deciding that to her the work required is worth it and sometimes the best things do not come easy. Life is not that cut and dry and it's not always about leaving to pursue the easier thing. If she stays it's because she believes it will be the best choice based on whatever priorities she has, you may not see it as the right choice but it doesn't mean she is automatically accepting less than she deserves

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

Fluff + Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x GN!Reader Reincarnation

CONTENT Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - V

Summary: During a sleepless night, you stumble upon Kit alone in the garden. After making up from your fight, discussions of your future lead to a night of confessions and heated passion.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: smut!!, oral, light fingering, kissing, first time, outdoor sex, nipple play, confessions, forced marriage trope, nightmares, making up, 18+

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: It’s finally here!! This is not the end. There’s gonna be 2-3 more chapters after this. Also, is this intimacy lowkey beautiful? I had such sappy little feelings writing this.

Not speaking to Kit after your fight was agonizing. Each morning, you woke up and spent the day assisting your mothers with wedding planning while avoiding each other at all costs. You had to admit, you missed her terribly; there were nights you lay awake, wondering if you should go find her and apologize, until you replayed your fight in your mind and anger washed over you once more.

One morning, you had woken up slightly later than usual, and descended the stairs into the Great Hall to find Kit sitting with her mother, accompanied by two men you didn’t recognize. Sorsha chatted with the men excitedly, while Kit sat quietly, wearing a pained and bored expression.

One of the men, identifiable as a diplomatic envoy by his fine garments dyed in Galladoorn green, reached into his satchel, pulled out a document, and slid it over to Sorsha. “I can assure you, your highness, the kingdom of Galladoorn is in high spirits over this alliance. I trust the contractual negotiations are to your liking?”

Sorsha scanned over the document, humming in approval. “Everything seems very fair, yes. My daughter is immensely grateful for the opportunity to marry Prince Graydon, isn’t that right Kit?”

Kit scoffed in response. Sorsha (not-so-gently) nudged her under the table, causing her to stifle a groan and reluctantly nod. With one final nod of satisfaction, Sorsha dipped her quill pen in ink and signed the bottom of the contract, sliding it back across the table.

“All we need is a notarization,” the envoy stated, looking towards his partner. The notary, donning a modest tunic and a feathered hat, took the quill from Sorsha and signed his own name just underneath. He passed it to the envoy to tuck into his satchel, and handshakes were immediately exchanged around the table.

“Prince Graydon is quite eager to make your acquaintance, Princess,” the envoy assured Kit as he shook her hand. “And who could blame him? I would be too if I were betrothed to such a beauteous young maiden.”

He shot her a sly wink, prompting her expression to crumple in disgust. You couldn’t hold back the audible gag that left your throat at his comment, causing Kit to turn in your direction. She met your gaze, finally noticing your presence in the doorway and froze in place.

The finalization of her betrothal should have left you emotional. Normally, you would cause some sort of commotion, or rush over to the envoy to attempt to destroy the contract. Instead, you simply offered Kit a curt nod as you turned away and calmly made your exit.

That night was spent tossing and turning as a recurring nightmare from your fifteenth year overtook you. Familiar fears revisited your subconscious, using recent events to transform into a new horror.

The dream began as usual, with you and Kit making flower bouquets in the Tir Asleen garden. This time however, instead of leading you astray, she offered her bouquet and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes as you savored the familiar warmth of her soft lips, almost pillowy against your own.

When you pulled away, expecting to see Kit’s shining face, you gasped when Airk suddenly stood before you. Glancing down, you found that once again, a wedding gown had replaced your everyday clothing, and the bouquet Kit gifted you had wilted in your hands. Faceless guests lined chairs in rows, the weight of their stares falling upon you as you stood at the altar.

Behind you stood a priest, wearing a stoic expression as he spoke mechanically. “We are gathered here today in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” chanted the guests in unison, their monotony making your skin crawl.

“Do you,” the priest eyed you. “Take Prince Airk Tanthalos to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

“No!” You shrieked, but none of the guests reacted. You tried to break away, but found your hands had been chained to Airk’s. “I cannot take him, please forgive me! I don’t love him!”

You felt someone nudge your shoulder, and turned to see Kit standing behind you. She wore a wedding dress eerily similar to yours, and her hands were bound to another faceless character presumed to be her own groom. Any previous color had been drained from her features, and she spoke with a tone as lifeless as her facial expression.

“Marriage isn’t about love, Princess.”

Once again, you shot up in bed, gasping for breath as you clutched your pounding heart. A quick glance out the window showed a still-black sky, with no indication of the morning sun. You grabbed your pillow and buried your face in it, the linen helping to muffle your frustrated groans.

Fearing a repeat of the nightmare, you decided sleep was futile. Abandoning your bed, you quickly donned your nightrobe and prepared for an insomnia-induced stroll through the castle.

Cool January wind pricked your face as you ventured outside. Usually, you would wrap your nightrobe tighter around yourself, but tonight, you welcomed the cold air as a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your mind.

You wandered the castle grounds with a lantern in hand, your feet inadvertently guiding you towards the Tir Asleen garden. Yielding to your subconscious, you sought solace among the shrubs and snowdrops. Just as you reached the gated entrance, a soft rustle echoed from within the garden. You froze as you saw a shadowy figure shift in the distance, fearing you had stumbled upon an intruder.

With a trembling hand, you raised your lantern to reveal the figure. Your heart skipped a beat when Kit’s face came into view, sitting beneath the tree where you shared your first childhood kiss. Neither of you dared to speak. With a sigh, you turned to leave, reaching for the gate latch.

“Wait…” she called out.

You paused, hand still on the gate. Kit looked at you with pleading eyes, hugging her knees to her chest. “Please don’t go…”

Pity washed over you, overriding any lingering anger. Kit appeared like a wounded bird: fragile, frail, a fragment of her former self. You approached and settled opposite her, facing but keeping your body pointed away.

Silence enveloped you both. You continued to study Kit’s newfound decrepitude as she rested her head on her knees. The lantern you had set aside highlighted her dark circles, shadowed like bruised fruit yet to ripen.

“I have so much to apologize for,” she murmured eventually, her voice coming out soft and meek. Lifting her head, she tucked her chin between her knees but avoided your gaze. “I really, truly do. I’ve been so… angry, and I took it out on you.”

“Why me?” You asked sincerely. “Have I done something to offend you? Because if so…”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “There was no order, no reason. I was hurt… and I wanted someone else to feel that hurt… and you were there. That’s all.”

You continued to stare, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe her tousled hair. Instead, you remained still, waiting for her to speak again.

“I was so lost in my own despair, I neglected to consider your distress,” she continued. “I’ve been so contrite, but I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’d understand if you were to loathe me.”

She didn’t need to beg; you crawled over and wrapped your arms around her. “I could never loathe you.”

Kit looked up, her big blue eyes brimming with tears. “You couldn’t?”

“Of course not,” you reassured her. “I love you.”

The word slipped out before you could stop it, the one word neither of you had uttered to each other before. You froze, feeling her tense in your arms. Those brilliant baby blues, the ones you had fallen for, continued to stare up at you, but you refused to meet them.

“You do?” She asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

You bit your lip, nervously playing with the ends of her short locks. She studied your features for a moment before a sly smirk spread across her own. Reaching behind her neck, she grasped your hand and pulled you into a captivating kiss. Your lips immediately melted into hers, engulfed in the familiar warmth you craved during her absence. She snaked her free hand around your waist, and you reciprocated by clutching the fabric of her nightshirt, both of you desperate to draw closer.

It was her who finally broke the kiss, pulling away with a sigh. “I love you too, if that wasn’t clear,” she chuckled lazily.

“It was,” you giggled, still a bit dizzy. Unsure of what to do next, you made a feeble attempt at a joke. “Such a pity marriage isn’t about love, isn’t it?”

Kit’s smile vanished instantly, guilt returning to her widened eyes. “I didn’t—“

“No, no, you were right,” you cut her off, repositioning so your head could lean against her chest. “Marriage isn’t about love…” you admitted sadly, regretting your jest. “Though… it should be…”

The last sentence was murmured under your breath, but Kit heard it anyway. She stared off into the distance, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she contemplated her next words. “I’ve heard whispers…” she began.

You glanced up at her, curious. “Whispers?”

“Of other kingdoms, far more… advanced than ours. More innovative. More… accepting.”

Turning to face her, your expression twisted with confusion and disbelief. “Kit… what exactly are you suggesting?”

She took your hands in hers as she carefully surveyed your features. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk down the aisle to my brother. I don’t want to marry Graydon, or any man, or anyone else but you…”

“Kit…” you interrupted gently, urging her to get to the point.

She sighed, squeezing your hands. “I want you to come with me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a smile. “Somewhere that will allow us to be together, somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Kit…” you began, shaking your head in disbelief. “Surely you’re not suggesting we… run away?”

“Not immediately,” she assured you, brow furrowing in thought. “It will take some time. We’ll need a plan. Some essentials. Research on different kingdoms and villages. We could even flee to an African country! I’ve read of societies that encourage the union between two women…”

“Kit,” you cut her off with a chuckle as you tried to be the voice of reason. “How could we possibly get to Africa?”

“We’ll devise a way!” A crazed smile crossed her face as she pulled you closer. “In the worst of perils, we’ll retreat to the Wildwood and live as simple woodswomen!”

Your expression turned serious. “But our kingdoms. Our responsibilities. Even if we were to flee to a different kingdom, we wouldn’t be princesses. We would be common villagers. You wouldn’t harbor the same power you do here, Kit.”

Kit simply sent you a lopsided grin. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”

A defeated sigh left your lips as you searched her expression for humor, but found none. “You’re truly serious about this?”

All the love and admiration in the world couldn’t compare to the way she gazed at you. “I’ve never been more serious about anyone my entire life.”

There was nothing you could do to stop the way your heart lurched at her words. You nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“The weddings aren’t until next month. We can use that time to plan and leave the night before.”

Kit grabbed your face and pressed her nose to yours with an excited giggle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered joyously before crashing your lips into hers. She eagerly reciprocated, grabbing handfuls of your hair in an attempt to draw you closer. Your arms encircled her, fingernails clawing at the back of her nightshirt as if you were underwater, desperately seeking a surface.

She moved atop you, swinging her leg over until she straddled your hips. The tree bark pressed against your back, scratching against your nightclothes like a scribe’s quill on parchment. Her lips traveled to your jaw, rolling your sensitive flesh between her teeth and eliciting soft moans from deep within your throat.

“Kit…” the name fell from your mouth in short gasps. Her hands were everywhere, roaming your body with the urgency of a desert traveler seeking water. Each brush, every gentle caress burned at your core, causing your body to tremble under her touch.

Desperate for release, your hips instinctively bucked against hers. You expected her to pull away, as she had when you were teenagers. She didn’t. Instead, her moans filled your mouth and vibrated against your lips.

You were the one to pull away, panting heavily as you pressed against her shoulders. “K-Kit? Are you… I mean… is this alright?”

Kit seemed to be lost in a daze. Her pretty pink lips were slick with spit and parted slightly as she fought to catch her breath. “I love you, Princess,” she began. “I long to share the remainder of my days… every fiber of my being with you. But only if you’ll allow me.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. All you needed to do was sit up and pull her into a tender kiss to convey your agreement. Her hands wandered to your midsection, untying your nightrobe and slipping it off your shoulders. All that remained between you and her was your thin nightgown. She traced the hem with her fingers, looking to you for permission. You nodded, shifting to allow her to pull it up over your shoulders before casting it aside.

Kit gazed upon your naked body as if it were a work of art sculpted by the Greek gods. She layed you back down, gently lowering your head unto the base of the tree as the cool grass tickled your bare skin. Her visage could only be defined as lovesick. “Will you tell me if I should stop?”

A breathless sigh escaped your lips. “I can’t imagine I’ll want you to.”

“Promise me,” she insisted, and you saw her request for what it was. Behind her hungry stares, amidst her growing need was a real, genuine pursuit of consent. You nodded, agreeing, and she was on you again.

Her lips traversed beneath your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses before stopping at your chest. “Continue?”

“Please,” you purred.

She took one of your breasts in her hand, pinching the erect bud. The soft sounds that elicited from your throat could have been enough to cease her heart’s beating. Her mouth found its way to your other breast, suckling at your swollen nipple with careful curiosity.

You groaned as your hand flew to the top of her head. “Kit… please don’t tease…”

Removing herself from your bosom was a task that Kit was initially reluctant to do, but soon complied after your hips began rolling into her once more. She resumed peppering kisses down your torso, pausing just above your mons. “Surely you’d like to stop now?”

You gave her a small laugh, shaking your head. “Far from it.”

With a serious determination, Kit dragged her index finger up the length of your wet folds, noting the way your breath hitched when she came in contact with your clit. Lowering her head, she squinted to observe the pink pearl, barely visible in the dim lantern light, which seemed to sweeten your sounds. She experimented with her fingertips once more, gently encircling your clit with the fascination of a honeybee drawn to a blossoming flower.

“Kit…” you growled, hips chasing her touch.

Your novice lover couldn’t help but marvel at the way your juices glistened on her skin. Overcome with intrigue, she stuck her slick-covered finger in her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Is it pleasing?” You asked.

“Very,” she replied. “Like a salted peach.”

It didn’t take long for Kit to dive into you like a woman starved, using her tongue to explore every inch of your wet slit. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she was a determined and fast learner, each breath, each shift, each guttural cry from your throat helping her to gauge your needs and proceed from there.

Soon, amidst your labored breaths and electric shocks of pleasure came an unfamiliar sensation deep inside your pelvis, as if someone had wound a spring tightly around your muscles. “K-Kit…” you sputtered. “It feels quite tense…”

Kit groaned in recognition, murmuring something akin to ‘the lewd literature.’ She spoke while her mouth was still on you, each word vibrating against your core and adding to the stimulation. “Breathe, beautiful. You’re doing so well. Trust me, lean into it, it’ll feel so good.”

You did as you were told, relaxing your muscles and leaning into the powerful sensations. The way Kit looked up at you as she lapped at your folds only spurred you forward, nearer, closer to wherever you were going. It wasn’t long before a burst of warmth exploded in your abdomen, causing your legs to tremble and your vision to blur. You squeezed your thighs together against her head, ragged breaths pleading with her to stay right where she was as you rode out your climax.

Kit lifted her head up once your breathing evened out, grinning up at you with a mouth coated in your slick. “Was that alright?”

“More than,” you assured her, still panting. “Much more than.”

She crawled back up to you and tenderly brought her lips to yours. Hints of your arousal still lingered on her tongue, irrefutable evidence of the events that just transpired. You hummed as she pulled back, goofy, embarrassing grins spread across both of your faces.

“Shall I return the favor?” You asked, trying to be seductive but your eyelids were drooping heavily.

Kit chuckled, taking your face in her hands. “At a later time,” she responded, thumbing the dark rings under your eyes. “It appears we both could use some sleep.”

Too tired to argue, you let your head fall back onto Kit’s chest. She smirked, reaching for your discarded nightrobe and draping it over both of you. Her arm settled upon your shoulders as she nestled into your hair, planting a kiss on your head. “Sleep well, Princess.”

That night, you both slept in the Tir Asleen garden, intertwined under the tree’s protective branches until the first light of dawn crested the horizon.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @lovinglynny @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sofi4v13 @detmarmalade @at1nyzen @ikyk-leeknow

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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[that-basic-simp]

Take Care of You

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: Blood WC: 1.2k+

"Mizu," I trailed after her, blood seeping out from her wounds and onto the perfect white snow, staining it.

"Mizu," I said louder. "Mizu!"

"I hear you!" she whipped around, her breathing ragged and heavy.

Blood was coming out of multiple wounds on her stomach and shoulders. Some was even dripping down her face and some coming from her mouth.

"Why are you still following me?" she rasped.

"Who else is going to help you with your injuries?"

"I don't need to be helped," she spat onto the ground, blood staining the ground once more. "And I certainly don't need it from you."

I stepped back, a pained expression on my face.

"But, Mizu, we're--"

"I don't care what I am to you. I never should have let you come with me in the first place. You're just dead weight. And dead weight gets left behind."

She turned around, leaning against her sword, that had her training weight as extenders. It acted as the naginata from her previous fight between the thousand claw army. But that fight didn't matter now. She was in need of medical attention and she was being too stubborn to let me help. I let out a sigh and continued to follow her. Knowing her body, she was ignoring the signs of rest. So I was just going to let her body give out before her revengeful spirit does. It didn't last long as we walked for about another hundred feet before her body collapsed onto the snow. Breathing out another sigh, I bent down and hoisted her up, letting her lean against me.

"I got you, Mizu."

Walking towards a nearby shrine, once we reached it, I set her down on the ground and got the fire going, making medicine for her. Once that was going, I dragged her over to the fire and laid her down.

"Y-Y/N," Mizu lazily blinked her eyes open.

"Yes, Mizu?"

"I-I'm sorry," she breathed out.

"Save it for when you're not losing blood. And when you can form a cohesive thought."

"I-I really am, though."

I shook my head, "Go to sleep, Mizu."

Her head fell against the wooden floor and her breathing started to become shallow and then heavy. I removed her blue haori from her upper half and started stitching the wounds. Once they were tightly stitched together, I washed the blood from her body and from the haori. I even stitched it up because I know she won't wear anything else other than this. Putting it back on her, I sat by the fire as it warmed the broth and vegetables.

Sweat rolled down her forehead as she thrashed here and there throughout the night. I know I should have gone to sleep, but if she wasn't able to fight if someone came after us, I at least had to protect her and myself. I don't know how I was going to, but I was going to find a way. The early morning sun rose and Mizu was still knocked out cold. She had a fever. This wasn't good. Grabbing a small bowl, I poured some of the broth into it and lifted her head up.

"Mizu," I whispered. "Mizu."

Her eyes blinked open, barely. Finding my eyes, I raised the bowl to her eye level.

"Medicine. You need to drink this."

She nodded, opening her mouth slightly. Resting the lip of the bowl onto hers, I slowly poured it into her mouth and soon, the broth was drained. I carefully laid her back down and sat watch for a few more days until Mizu was able to open her eyes without falling back asleep. Sitting up, she let out a groan and turned to face me.

"H-How long was I out?"

"A few days."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Who was going to take care of you and watch for enemies."

"Get some rest, Y/N."

"Are you going to be ok if someone tries to ambush us?"

"If they haven't ambushed us when I was knocked out cold, they're not going to."

"I just want to make sure."

"Yes, I should be ok to defend us."

"Ok."

I laid down by the fire and got some much needed sleep. I woke up a couple of days later and found Mizu to be training outside with her sword. Walking outside, I stood by the stairs of the shrine, watching her.

"Make sure not to open your stitches," I called out to her.

She didn't listen. She moved too harshly and blood started to seep out and stain her blue haori. She stopped, placing a hand over her stitches.

"Fucking," I breathed out, growling slightly. "Mizu!"

She turned, a fearful look in her eyes.

"Get in here."

She hurried up the stairs and sat down by the fire. Kneeling beside her, I removed her haori and started to restitch her wounds again.

"I-I can't thank you eno--"

I cut her off by punching her in the face. She let out a groan as her hands covered her mouth and nose, some blood dripping from either one of them.

"I-I deserved that," she said in a muffled tone.

I slapped her across the face, too.

"A-And that."

"What the hell, Mizu?!"

She let out a sigh, removing her hands to reveal that I had gotten her in the mouth. Blood was dripping from the front of her teeth and it was pretty bad, too. It probably wasn't going to stop for a little while.

"I-I'm sorry," she breathed out.

"What you said hurt, Mizu."

"I know," she looked away from me. "I-I didn't mean for it to. I was just disoriented from the blood loss."

I let out a sigh. I couldn't stay mad at her.

"You're lucky I love you. And that I wouldn't hesitate to take care of you."

A soft smile emerged as she turned to face me. It didn't help that blood was staining her lips like a prostitute's make up. Her hand slowly reached for mine, her fingers brushing on top of mine.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "I-I'm really sorry about what I said. I-I don't know where I would be without you. Probably dead."

"Very much so dead," I said in a deadpan tone.

It caused her to chuckle, a rare smile I have only ever seen.

"I'm glad you followed me. And you don't listen to me when I am mean or hurtful to you."

"You were like that the first time we met. Mean and hurtful, but the minute I complimented your eyes, your cold, harsh heart finally melted slightly."

"I think you're the only person I am warm towards."

"And you're the only person that brings out that side of me," I pointed to her still bleeding mouth.

"Yeah. You really got me there."

"I know how to help it."

"How?" she asked as I leaned towards her.

Placing my hands on her cheeks, I pulled her towards me and placed my lips against hers. I didn't care about the iron taste that was on her lips. Or how it would soon overwhelm my taste buds as I began to slowly make out with her.

"Y-Y/N," Mizu said in between the kiss, trying to pull away.

I just pulled her in for another. After a bit, I pulled away and there was blood on my lips. Mizu shook her head, a look of awe in her eyes.

"What would I do without you?"

"You'd die," I chuckled.

She nodded her head, "That I would."

I leaned towards her once more, pressing my forehead against hers.

"Thank you, my ember."

"You're welcome, my water lily."

[adore-laur]

WINDS OF CHANGE

— here’s an update on dad harry & the fam <3 please reblog/comment, or i will haunt you

——

You've been dreading this day since March began.

Every time you passed the calendar on the refrigerator, you averted your eyes so you didn't see the specific date circled with the words "Lovebug's First Day" written inside it.

Time ticked by in an unyielding manner. Like an apex predator lying in wait, it crept up on you and pounced, leaving you disoriented, helpless, and wounded. You couldn't mentally process the breakneck speed of reality sprinting straight at you. When you merely blinked in a daze, another month unfurled, leaving no chance to recover.

The day arrives with a strong western wind and a brilliantly bright sunrise that mocks your low spirits. You're awake before anyone else, which is rare. Sleep evaded you last night, your eyes rejecting the heaviness that always comes with sleeping in Harry's warm embrace. The restlessness was paired with a fierce ache clutching your heart and holding on tight until the early morning.

At almost four years old, your eldest daughter is attending preschool today. After being a stay-at-home mom since she was born, you're finally setting her free to grow somewhere new. It was always in the cards, considering you would like to get back to working part-time to help provide for the family. You love bonding with and nurturing both your girls, but you're eager to put your brain to use in a different environment. It's time to return to other identities besides being a mother and a wife.

You begin brewing coffee, then open the kitchen curtains to allow the sun to pour in. For some odd reason, the atmosphere feels different. It feels like your first day of school all over again, where there's that nostalgic zest in the air fused with an underlying fear of the unknown. It's impossible to describe lucidly, but its presence is strongly felt nonetheless.

Today will forever change your family's routine, and it will make you want to rip your hair out and also burst with pride. There's a tug-of-war match taking place in your heart right now. Your nerves feel frayed; anxiety's merciless hands are harshly plucking at the threads. It's like fighting a biological battle with no shield—your brain is futile against all the attacks.

The sound of the wooden stairs creaking dissolves your whirlwind thoughts. Harry appears, wearing a snug black sweater and athletic shorts. He yawns, the sparkling sunlight accentuating his face gorgeously—the neatly trimmed scruff on his jaw he kept throughout winter; the tired shape of his eyes; the wispy way his hair curls after his morning shower. It's a blessing to be able to see the serene side of him that just woke up and isn't burdened by stress.

"Hi, sweetheart," he says, taking the mug of black coffee you prepared for him and sipping with an appreciative hum. "Both kids are still asleep."

You simply nod, afraid that if you speak, your poise will crumble instantaneously. Your hands distract themselves by lighting the wick of a sandalwood-scented candle. A part of you falsely hopes the comforting aroma will calm you down, but you know nothing will break through the full-body anxiety you're currently experiencing.

"No cuddles in bed this morning?" Harry asks curiously, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He smells like his sage and citrus body wash. "I missed you. Thought we'd have a little cry session before leaving."

Did he really have to mention the elephant in the room? You force your tears to save their arrival for later and say, "Sorry. I'm just trying to avoid crying as much as possible today."

His sigh is weighted with emotion as he sets his mug down and massages your shoulders. "I'm losing my composure already," he admits, laughing weakly.

At least he's in the same boat as you. Being a father has cracked him open in the best way possible—he's more softened than ever, and these parenting milestones always make him tenderhearted.

You rest your head against his chest and say, "This is harder than I thought it'd be." Every outcome you predicted involved an aching heart. Now, in the thick of it, you're defenseless.

"Remember our first night at home with her?" Harry asks, applying pressure with his thumbs to get rid of the muscle knots in your shoulder blades.

"Yeah. You woke me up because she had the hiccups."

He groans into your neck, almost like he's reliving the panicked moment. "I was so scared something was wrong."

You recall opening your eyes in the dead of night, the mellow lamplight illuminating Harry's troubled expression. Your baby, so small and precious in his arms, had harmless hiccups leaving her mouth. While you were half asleep, you reassured him by saying it was probably because she fed for too long. He agreed, yet still brought her to bed and gently rubbed her tummy until they were gone. You two were learning and tag-teaming through pure exhaustion. It was tough, but the rewards came in refreshing waves.

"Then she threw up on me," Harry adds, shaking his head fondly.

You turn around and slide your palms under his sweater, feeling the gloriously warm skin of his sculpted stomach. "Remember when she said her first word?"

He smiles reminiscently. "Mama."

"You started crying, if I'm not mistaken."

"Because she recognized you. It was special."

"Are you surprised she didn't say Dada first?"

"No, considering I talked about Mama all the time around her." His knuckle strokes under your chin. "Still do."

You hum thoughtfully, welcoming the pleasant memories that replay behind your closed eyelids. "Our girl is all grown up now. What are we going to do?"

Harry tilts your head to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear. "You and I will be okay. It'll take time, but we'll eventually sink into this new normal."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Our love is steadfast, and nothing will ever change that." He hugs you in an all-consuming way—it's intimate and infuses you with safety, warmth, and a hopeful spark that everything will patch together the way it's supposed to.

——

When the preschool comes into view, you get slammed with immediate sadness.

You toured it with Harry months ago, ensuring it was where you wanted your daughter to be during the weekdays. The curriculum focuses on outdoor learning and is nestled in a safe neighborhood only ten minutes from the beach house. The teachers, classrooms, and overall energy of the place made you less anxious, but now it's back with a vengeance, eating away at your calm facade.

Kids linger outside the building, the sun shining on the blacktop that's scribbled with chalk drawings. A few participate in supervised hopscotch, while others twist their bodies nervously. A gated playground area is off to the left, with colorful swings, slides, and seesaws. To the right is a woodsy area with a large sandbox and flower beds. The stone pathway is decorated with little handprints that must have been dipped in paint. It's darling.

In the rearview mirror, you watch your daughter kick her legs in excitement and hug her tiny ladybug backpack, all ready to go. She woke up happy as a clam and impatiently scarfed down the big breakfast Harry had made her. After that, Harry braided her hair while sitting on the front porch, the March winds and briny air bringing the spring season with them. Pictures were taken, hearts were broken a bit more, and then you all were off to part ways.

Harry to the restaurant; you to your part-time job. No babies to look after, just an empty house waiting to be filled with love again.

Your youngest daughter, who's ten months old now, sleeps peacefully in the car seat. She's getting bigger every day, and it's a double whammy to see both of your children become more cognizant. You want to curse time for being such a thief.

She'll be dropped off at the nearby daycare center next, which will further twist the knife. It's possible for separation anxiety to occur, and while you can handle it, your baby girl's reaction will be a mystery. You sincerely hope the transition from home to somewhere unfamiliar will be smooth sailing.

Harry parks the car and looks over at you unwaveringly. "It's now or never," he whispers.

You draw in a deep breath, then exhale slowly. "Let's go."

Stepping out of the car, you open the back door and let your daughter hop out. You'd walk her to the door, but you want to stay near your youngest.

As she bounces with anticipation, you open her backpack and double-check that she has everything—her lunch box, a change of clothes, sunscreen, and the comfort blanket she's had since she was born. You zip it back up and then unhurriedly help her arms into the straps, trying to stall what happens next.

Harry, never the one to procrastinate, kicks things into gear by crouching and cradling her head. "You have the best day, all right? Be kind, make friends, and have fun. I'll be picking you up later."

"Can we eat ice cream after?" she asks, clasping her hands and standing on her tiptoes. "And play on the beach?"

He kisses her forehead. "We can do whatever you want, lovebug."

You can envision it now. Harry will bring the girls home, exhausted from work. He'll make dinner and wait for you, then you'll all sit at the kitchen table and attentively listen to her talk about her day in great detail. Then, as the sun sets, he'll entertain her by the shore until he insists on bedtime. Come tomorrow, he'll do it again with the same steadfast devotion because that's what good fathers do.

"We love you so much," you say, petting her braided hair.

"Love you," she replies distractedly, eagerly glancing at the front door. "I gotta go now, Mommy. Bye, Daddy."

She turns, ready to break free, but Harry stops her and says, "Not so fast, little lady. Give us some love to get through the day."

She shyly hugs him. She's growing out of her clingy tendencies and becoming more independent, and you can tell by Harry's sad smile that he recognizes it too. She briefly hugs your leg before running to the front door, where teachers are waiting with enthusiastic expressions and name tag stickers.

Harry slowly stands, never taking his eyes off her. He's more adjusted to not seeing her as much during the week than you, but you know the sentiment of her starting school still weighs heavy on his heart. After watching her disappear, he slings his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the car.

Inside is where you fall apart. The first cry that escapes has Harry blowing out an unsteady breath and embracing you. Against your neck, he sniffles, letting his piled-up emotions finally fall to pieces. He's not much of a crier, but when he does, it's a raw sight to see.

"Reservation for a cry session? Table for two?" he says humorously, rubbing your back and lightly scratching it.

"We're so lame," you whisper, gripping his sweater like a vice.

"God, I know. I even packed tissues." Harry takes an on-the-go pack out of his pocket, plucks two tissues out, and wipes both his and your tears with them.

"Eventually, we're going to have to do this again," you say. From the passenger seat, you peek at your baby girl and shoo away the thought—you still have more than enough time with her before she starts school.

Harry kisses your cheek. "One day at a time, honey."

Undoubtedly, this routine will get easier. It will become second nature, and you'll discover the exquisite simplicity of watching your children grow before leaving the nest and soaring through the sky.

They came into this world like a soft spring breeze, carrying seeds and dispersing them into your life. The roots emerged from under your home and flourished into a bountiful garden. Each day, there are new blossoms to admire and appreciate. And each day, you aim to help them thrive with support from Harry's sunshine.

Try as they might, the winds of change won't cause harm. Your family's roots are firm in the ground.

——

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 2 - let the world know

“I wish I could let the world know that it’s okay to let the pain show and even though times seem bad, it always rains before the rainbow.” -A Little More by Machine Gun Kelly

Dp x DC: Regent!Jazz AU Vigilante!Jazz AU

Prompt Masterlist

In traditional Fenton luck, shit goes sideways when Jazz wasn’t looking.

The Joker breaks out of Arkham.

Now, Jazz is fully aware of the Clown’s evil-ness and Danny’s trauma with all things Circus thanks to Freakshow has her hackles raised when the spirits of Gotham start screeching in her ear mid-patrol that “Joker is free!”

Like hell the guy would stay that way.

Lady Gotham is anxiously watching the Regent stomp towards Arkham, where the Mad Clown had yet to fully leave the premises into Gotham proper.

Would Jazz kill the Clown?

Many of the Unquiet Dead of Gotham are the staunchest supporters of kill, kill, kill on a good day, but with the Clown?

They seethed, they writhed, they thirsted for their vengeance and with every life taken by the Joker, the number grew.

Jazz hated the thought of death, ironically.

It’s one thing to rule the Dead and Never-born, but to add to the Realms' population by her own hand?

(It wouldn't be the first time.)

Well, Jasmine Nightingale would have to check her morals at the door, because when Lady Gotham begins to hesitantly (then vivaciously) root for you to “please end him, dear” one has to reconsider a few things about themselves.

For instance, how would she avoid becoming the next Joker? It was a hushed confession of the Lady that made Jazz hesitate at the border between Gotham and Arkham-

A dead man's switch would trigger a Joker Venom bomb, infecting those nearby.

Would the gas affect a Liminal?

True, Jazz was very much a living being (she often woke up in a cold sweat with a hand at her neck, heart beating against her fingers), but she was Death-claimed.

Was this how Danny felt as a Halfa? Weighing the living half vs the dead to see which would win out in a fight?

Not for the first time, Jazz found herself thankful that she was only Liminal.

Heart in her throat, Jazz considered her options.

It would be easy to just run him through with her ecto-sword, a gift from her once-mentor Pandora, but she would likely have to fight her way through bats and birds to both get to and away from the Clown.

Jazz could also just ask for aid from Lady Gotham and/or the Unquiet Dead to enshroud her from vigilant eyes as she absconds with Joker to Crime Alley.

(Jazz was sure Red Hood wouldn’t mind if she dropped a dead clown at his feet. He seemed the type to appreciate a job well done.)

(If her heart raced slightly in response to that thought, no it didn’t.)

Despite all her reservations about murder, killing the clown felt like an honor for the Regent.

(Blood had long since been on her hands.)

The morning would bring chaos as the people learned of the Joker's fate, Batman's failure to return him to Arkham, and how someone finally had enough of the black furry's inaction to stop the clown.

Sometimes, inaction is just as bad as action.

(A Fenton who learned that well.)

Jazz, in full Regent armor, mounted the Joker's head at the mouth of her alleyway, the same one that she used as a checkpoint between her apartment and the Park Row graveyard. A grotesque trophy that would be used as a symbol of the Regent's authority to avenge, of her willingness to cross the line of morality.

The Unquiet Dead who owed their demise to the Joker could now pass on and Jazz could call it a night.

That was, until whatever tomorrow brought around to spite the younger Fentons.

Typical.

=============================

[This was more of a short fic rather than the prompt I first started with, but it just came to me. I want to explore some things with events leading up to Danny and Jazz in Gotham, but I'm not sure. I need help to describe Jazz's armor because I have a general idea, but I'm not sure about the details. Ideas?]

[Hopefully I'll be able to put more Regent!Jazz than Vigilante!Jazz, but I also really like Jazz as one. Bet you can't guess the name I use for her as a vigilante!]

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒.

notes. reposted and edited from wp! happy holidays and merry christmas to those who celebrate!

genre. fluff + crack

ft. tooru oikawa, tetsuro kuroo, rintaro suna, shoyo hinata, kenji futakuchi, hajime iwaizumi, osamu miya

gender neutral! reader

➫ 𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ HOT COCO HOT COCO HOT COCO

⌗ he loves to sit near the fire place with either you seated on his lap or just plopped up above him on the couch or beneath if you're more my style AHAHAHAHA

⌗ LOVES HALLMARK MOVIES i mean look at him, he would so watch them.. but he wouldn’t mind the classics like elf, christmas story ( my fav fr ), the home alone duology or national lampoon’s christmas vacation🫶

⌗ "I LOVE YOU I LOVE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOUUUU Y/N-CHAAAAANNNN!!" — after watching elf and doing last minute christmas shopping going up the escalator ( he’s silly )

⌗ would totally play old jazzy christmas songs and pull you close to him, swaying gently in the kitchen or by the fireplace to the melody with the smell of balsam in the air❤️

⌗ you already know he would have lured you under the mistletoe too somehow🧎

⌗ "oh wow! i wonder how this got here!!🙀"

➫ 𝓚𝗨𝗥𝗢𝗢 𝓣𝗘𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ y'all woke up LATE on christmas day istg, but tetsuro hooked you up real nice with presents ykyk he made that bank af and worked those extra hours just for you<3

⌗ THE DECORATIONS ARE SO PRETTY ISTG WHO LET HIM HAVE THIS MUCH TASTE, WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SLAY THAT HARD

⌗ unlike kawa, kuroo took you for dinner and made a day out of it? he took you ice skating, out to see the lights and decorations, tossed a few snowballs at you to piss you off🧎

⌗ "come onnn, i promise i won't let you fall~"

⌗ it ends up snowing a bit later into the night on your way back home, so he gave you his scarf, long coat AND mittens.. hooked you up fr

⌗ except.. nothing fits aside from the scarf, but are you complaining? no🙄 although you did yell at him for it cuz he could get sick</3

⌗ he had an entire argument prepared as to why he wouldn't get sick and you could have sworn that he mentioned the periodic table somewhere🧍‍♂️spoiler alert- he gets sick the next day

➫ 𝓢𝗨𝗡𝗔 𝓡𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ngl at first you were SO confused as to why suna didn't have a christmas tree in his living room, but one in his bedroom until christmas day..

⌗ Y'ALL DID NOT MOVE THE ENTIRE DAY

⌗ "rin, we gotta open the presents y'know.. and i kinna want breakfast.. we gotta get up at some point."

⌗ "the presents are under our tree over there by the dresser, just peek under and you'll see them. as for breakfast, kita-san’s coming over with everyone later. problem solved."

⌗ tbfh the laziest christmas you could ever imagine, but like you can’t complain, it was nice to just unwind a bit

⌗ he did keep the spirit of the holidays with a good bit of christmas movies, for sure the grinch who stole christmas ( it’s his favorite )

⌗ later on, true to his words, kita showed up around 7:30 with the rest of the team and y'all had sum good ass food and hot coco after reluctantly dragging suna out of bed to get ready🤲

➫ 𝓗𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔 𝓢𝗛𝗢𝗬𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ boy are you in for it🧎

⌗ shoyo woke you up at four in the morning with natsu in tow, dragging your ass to the living room where the tree was filled with a wide arrangement of presents

⌗ you were still half asleep and since you were staying at shoyo's for the holidays — you uh.. weren't allowed to start opening gifts till seven LMAOO so you guys started guessing the presents instead; yk getting a feel of them

⌗ "WOAH THIS ONE'S SUPER BIG, I-IT COULD BE ANYTHING!"

⌗ "sho, the only thing it's gonna end up being is a wake up call to your mom and then you'll never know what it is."

⌗ tobio comes over later and y'all have a snowball fight together🥺

⌗ you and natsu won LMAOOOO poor lil birb was upset, but your kisses made things better for him❤️

➫ 𝓕𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜 𝓚𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗜 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ugh yes dateko's baddest bitch😩 another grinch enjoyer tbh

⌗ this man woke you up with a snowball to your face before shouting out merry christmas

⌗ although it was a cheap shot, getting you while VULNERABLE, you couldn't stay mad at him, as you loved this piece of shit so dearly😪

⌗ HOWEVER. that didn't mean you didn't get his ass back the minute he dropped his guard when you went outside to turn your christmas lights off for the day

⌗ "huh, so you think you can be a cheeky little shit with me on such a loving day? and get away with it?"

⌗ "and what? you don't hear me complaining, now do you kenji?”

⌗ in spite of being complete little shits to each other, you laughed it off after awhile and just spent your evening curled up together on your couch with a plate of sugar cookies that you both had baked the night before ( ofc you can guess there was a war of flour and baking tools then too )

➫ 𝓘𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝓗𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ y'all have the coziest christmas honestly

⌗ you and hajime don't wake up too early or too late; it's just the right time and you're both completely prepared for all that's to come for the day

⌗ the two of you start off with unwrapping presents, then iwaizumi makes you the BEST breakfast ever istg, TELL ME HE DOESN'T COOK RN IF YOU WANNA GET TUSSLED

⌗ ngl tooru taught him some good shit when it came to making hot coco and you swore you were just about ready to tap into heaven at that immaculate taste

⌗ "oh my gosh, haji, what did you put in this, it's so.. it's better than amazing!"

⌗ "while i want tell you, i'm ‘sworn to secrecy’, his words not mine, by that fool oikawa with his secret recipe bullshit." he can’t lie though, whatever tf tooru invented was otherworldly..

⌗ not even an hour later you found it on starbucks' secret menu app and you showed it to your boyfriend who flipped his shit before sprinting over to his friend’: house with two snowballs in hand ( with hard snow.. praying for my man to dodge more than ever ); the outcome.. wasn't the prettiest😔

➫ 𝓜𝗜𝗬𝗔 𝓞𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD did i say food? yes, food.

⌗ all you two did that whole entire day was EAT?? NOT EVEN THAT BUT YOU HAD A WHOLE CHRISTMAS EVE DINNER TOO THE NIGHT BEFORE HXJSKSKS OSAMU DOES NOT PLAY GAMES WHEN IT COMES TO CHRISTMAS

⌗ atsumu invites himself over as usual and there's chaos in the kitchen of course..

⌗ "OUTTA THE WAY 'SAMU, I WANNA DECORATE COOKIES TOO!!"

⌗ "if you don't quit whinin' right now 'tsumu, i'm gonna beat yer ass and toss ya out in the snow."

⌗  bantering aside, the cookies were super pretty?? they tasted heavenly too, cookies from scratch go hard and whatever recipe those two were taught.. yum

⌗ osamu had nonalcoholic eggnog prepared for you and him to have after atsumu went home and the two of you exchanged the presents you had for one another before cuddling near the tree and fireplace for the night<3

notes. forgot to repost this before with the other reposts but it was kinda out of season.. so i waited for the holidays to blow in to fixed them up a bit and post them on here. furthermore, super sorry for the lack of activity, been working on my og wip as of late and my longer fics on wp :’) hope you understand</3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[heiayen]

so, when i die, which i must do neuvillette x gn!reader

summary: "how unfortunate it was, that the later you longed for… never came. not how you wished for it to do." of fate's cruel joke and tragedy

tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, braiding neuvie's hair!! fluff/angst. reader gets shot but it isn't described in details. not proofread

notes: i don't know how to write neuvillette. alsooo at first it was meant to just be a fluffy fic of braiding neuvie's hair but thanks to écrin network yall are getting angst <3 and yes. the title is mitski lyrics

Every morning, you would wake up early to braid Neuvillette's hair.

It started as something small at first, as hushed morning conversations in bed, with your fingers lazily braiding a strand of his hair. It was always sloppy, a little out of shape and you would always unbraid it before he would leave the bed— and you back to sleep, but… it was here. Always was here, a quiet declaration of your love for him.

Only with time did it evolve into actual braids. You remembered clearly this one time when you woke up in surprisingly good spirits and with the sudden urge to properly braid his hair.

He didn't refuse, because how could he? Seeing the shine in your eyes as you asked him, his only choice was to say yes.

He looked beautiful, you remembered.

The braid wasn't perfect, no, far from it even. One of the three strands was a little thicker than the other, the shape was a little off at the end but, really, you just woke up minutes ago and were running on nothing but pure will and adoration for this man. You'd make a perfect braid for him later, you said to yourself.

And as your hands moved to brush your fingers through the strands to free his hair from the plait, he stopped you.

He wanted to wear it for the rest of the day, you remembered him saying. That he didn't care about it not being perfect.

It was yours and it made you happy.

He looked so beautiful, smiling softly at you.

That day marked the beginning of your little tradition of braiding his hair every morning, and today was no different, accompanied by your rambling about the upcoming day.

"…wish I could sleep longer today, though. Right after I am done with the fighting, I will go to your office and take a nap there."

Today was an important day for you. You were one of the Champion Duelists, known for your elegant, but efficient swordplay, and today you had a duel to win. You were confident in your skills and, if anything, more worried for the man who challenged you. He didn't seem like someone adept at swords enough to win, but if he wished to fight for his honor, then it was his choice.

"You are welcome to do as you wish, love. But be careful during the duel." Came his reply in a low voice, with traces of morning sleepiness evident in his tone, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

You appreciated his concern despite your confidence. It made warmth bloom somewhere inside you, as you continued gently brushing his long hair.

"Only Clorinde surpasses my skills as a fighter, there's no reason for you to worry about me." You said softly, finally putting the brush away and starting to part his hair, "But no matter, I will be careful either way."

You leaned to peck his cheek before you went back to braiding. You and Neuvillette talked about mundane things for the rest of it. You shared your plans for the rest of the day, how you planned to meet up with Clorinde in the afternoon, feed her some good desserts or just food because, archons, you two finally managed to find a moment of free time to meet up and talk and you wouldn't pass on the occasion to share your favorite sweets and other dishes, no.

When you were finally finished, you tied it with his usual ribbon and moved from your place behind him to get up from bed. You stood in front of him, smiling.

"It's all done!" You clapped your hands and gestured at Neuvillette with your hands, "You can now go and do your important court duties, dove."

A small chuckle slipped past his lips and he reached out to hold your hands, tug you a little closer to him.

"Thank you, love." He got up and placed a gentle kiss on each of your hands, for your hard work, "I'll be waiting for you to come later."

You wished the later could come faster and that today wasn't so busy for you both. How you wished to spend the entire day with just him, his loving embrace, and the blooming warmth in your chest.

"Me too."

How unfortunate it was, that the later you longed for… never came. Not how you wished for it to do.

In all of your confidence you failed to notice the conspiracy, the tragedy brewing behind the shadows. You took your safety for granted, believing you wouldn't get hurt because why? You were so good at it, and the man who challenged you barely seemed to know how to hold his blade and–

Maybe that was your undoing. The damned self-confidence that prevented you from understanding what was really happening before it was too late.

Only when someone yelled in the crowd, the defeated man smiled wickedly at you from the ground, only when your eyes met the gun's barrel did you realize that your safety never was granted, and that being the Iudex's lover had its price one you didn't wish to pay any soon.

He was your beloved, your Neuvillette in the warm embrace of your arms and at home. Your lover, for whom you would do anything, even if it meant waking up early just to braid his hair and sleepily mumble into his shoulder, your fingers doing the job on their own but in people's eyes you were one of the Champion Duelists, someone important to the Iudex of Fontaine, a playing card in a greater scheme of revenge.

Right.

Before you could react, the bullet hit its goal and you fell to the ground, gasping in shock and scowling in pain. You stared at the man who shot you before someone came and dragged him away, another person trying to move you away, but you could already feel your consciousness slowly slipping away from you.

You weren't ready to pay with your life for simply loving, and yet the decision was made for you.

Your lips parted as you tried to say your lover's name before losing consciousness but you barely managed to utter it, light as a whisper and as lovely as a prayer.

Oh, no.

You didn't want to leave him. Not yet, not anytime soon, not at all, not before spending an eternity with him. Was it foolish to wish for it? To wish for something impossible, yet something your heart longed for?

You wanted to braid his hair again, get all the rainbow roses and other flowers, and ribbons, and weave it into the strands. You wanted to kiss him once more, share your favorite desserts, and talk about your day to him, sleep peacefully knowing he was next to you, knowing that you were–

To think about it, you never were safe, not with how fate loved cruel jokes and tragedy.

Someone's warm, gloved hand cupped your cheek and soon, you could feel the first drops of rain on your skin. You wanted to speak an apology into his palm, but you didn't have enough strength for it anymore.

It seemed the rain wouldn't stop for a long time.

[heartofjasmina]

I like how a vast majority of the time I'm like "nah I'm not into incest stuff personally but whatever floats your boat i guess". But after five minutes browsing your blog I'm suddenly having *ideas*. Like, what if Tokoyami was immensely frustrated because he can't figure out why he's been having wet dreams every single night? Then he finds out that Dark Shadow has been "sneaking out" while the host is asleep, and paying visits to their sister in the next room over, who has been very welcoming of the attention. (Although she WAS very startled the first time she was flicking the bean and big yellow eyes appeared in the dark, asking what she was up to with an eager curiosity.)

W-wait a minute nonnie this kinda slaps--

You weren't trying to be quiet when you were touching yourself, you actually had several fantasies of your older brother hearing you moan his name, but you still felt guilty when you were caught.

"Whatcha doin' pretty birdy?" Dark Shadow had caught a whiff of your scent and came to investigate, his vision more at home in the dark anyway as he watched you.

The squeak you let out was less than graceful, but your heartbeat wouldn't calm down once you saw Dark Shadow's tell tale yellow eyes.

"I-I guess I'm just-"

"Can I get a taste? You smell fucking divine." He interrupted you excitedly, and your cunt throbbed in response.

You didn't differentiate between your brother and the dark spirit that was his constant companion. To hear him ask was more than you'd ever hoped.

"S-sure.." You could barely get your tongue to move around your shock, but you let your thighs fall open shyly, hoping beyond hope that the eagerness of Dark Shadow's tongue meant something more.

~

Tokoyami woke the next morning with a raging hard on and dreams of soft thighs filling his head. He could hear Dark Shadow tittering and chirping to himself, and he groaned as he sat up in bed.

"Fumi! You'll never guess what I found out." Dark Shadows eyes were wide and happy as he looked at his host.

"What would that be Dark Shadow?" He sighed, knowing its easier to go along with Dark Shadow than try to fight the river's current.

"Your sister tastes as good as she smells!"

Tokoyami paused.

Looked at Dark Shadow who was practically vibrating with energy, and tried to ignore the sick, hopeful part of him that crowed victoriously.

"What were you up to last night little bird?" Tokoyami asked as he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.

[dorcas4meadowes]

could you do a luke fic where an apollo kid reader teaches him how to play guitar?(and maybe sing together) also i love your works🫶

Taught Strums

Pairing - Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

W/c - 1.5

Master list

A/n: you are so sweet ml <33

✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞

Attempting to engage a handful of demigod children proved to be tedious. It was more tempestuous than a quest ever could ever be. You were exceedingly grateful for your students' inherent abilities to produce music, but it sounded as pleasant as a group of seven could on untuned guitars.

This was the most demanding part of your mornings, seeking out gratitude amongst the ringing noises. You woke with the desire to teach and would leave feeling mildly accomplished, but mostly drained. You loved your siblings, but they had demonstrated to be rather difficult.

You moved your brother’s grip to grasp a chord and allowed a gentle note to caress your ears.

“When can I learn a song?” He asked, strumming gently against his instrument.

“You keep this up and maybe by the weekend.” You replied with a soft smile.

“Really!?” The small blonde you assisted, beaming at his success.

You wouldn’t admit to favourites amongst your siblings, but the Solace boy raised your spirits.

Your sister called for your assistance and you were once again whisked away to help, oblivious to the eyes that remained on your applicable frame.

Your boyfriend was at the dining pavilion playing a distracted game of cards, his gaze gently on you. He watched you lean forward, the beads around your neck slipping over your shirt, his sight set on an additional emblem that graced the thread around your neck and his. Few campers had nostalgic pieces adorned to their threads, Annabeth had her fathers college ring, a few of the demeter kids had resin pressed flowers, but you and Luke shared a small stone carving a Lyre. It represented your gift, your love and the ever dreamt of Elysium. The charm is a constant affirmation of who you belonged to and who he would seek out in the depths of Tartarus.

“Luke,” Chris gestured, having to repeat his name to gather his attention, “your play man.” He mindlessly set out a card and let his gaze return back to your attentive grasp, soaking in your warmth. He couldn’t help but dismiss the meaningless game when you were near, he was like a moth to a flame, your fire slowly making his other priorities melt.

“Dude just go.” Connor took the pile of cards back and began to shuffle them, a few of them floating on the ground.

Luke didn’t have to be told twice and let the invisible guide between you tug him to your presence, to your sweet smile and gentle hands. His inherent nature was dependent on you, he was forever reaching out.

“Hi Luke,” a few of your siblings chorused, your head turning at his arrival.

“Bad time?” He asked.

“Just a minute,” you replied, turning to your sister. While you assisted the girl your siblings instantly flocked to Luke, asking questions about swords and fighting, the real world and about anything that came to their small minds.

As to your promise you salvaged him from your pestering - loving - siblings, explaining that practice was to be finished later, leaving them with a guitar’s neck in your grasp.

“Where to, ‘Lucy Gray’?” he asked, his calloused hands finding yours.

“You’ll see.”

The sun followed wherever your feet trailed, an ever glowing halo making your skin warm to the touch, Luke forever in the palm of your hand. You led him towards the lake, just to where the stones met the lush grass and blanketed at the base of an Oak tree, a seat woven from the flora and roots.

The plants saved you from your troubles and moulded around you, sculpting against your body and Luke’s alike, your guitar resting in your lap. Your eyes flickered to the splash of Naiads who retreaded under the rush of waves, the women’s tails snapping against the tension of the water, and letting it ripple against the tide. You turned your gaze to Luke, who’s never left yours. Your boyfriend had a tendency to stare, his mind would buzz and his head would tilt a little, but you couldn’t sustain contact for as long as he could, so you turned to your instrument.

The notes your fingers strum were pure and resonant and echoed through the stillness. Your fingers pulled across the strings with ease while you let a soft hum leave your lips, a whisper to the passing breeze.

You had a gift, distinguishable from your siblings. Children of Apollo had a tendency to lean towards the liberal arts, but you could manipulate sound like none of your siblings. The gift came after a rather uneventful evening in Olympus, Apollo was feeling bored and after your generous offerings he decided to grant you with the ability to hypnotise through your music. Your art tempted people, it made them forget their own names, it was a temporary trip from their troubles and had them craving your sound, fumbling under your voice.

Luke was not immune to your gifts and he adored them greatly. With you beside him he could appreciate his surroundings, the music pushing his stresses into the background.

“Can you sing?” He asked, his tone gentle. This was his request any time an instrument was in reach.

You smiled at his question, he still made you feel needed after years of people’s pleading. Your fingers smoothly eased between chords and began to play a song which plagued your mind, the lullaby which kept you at ease and proved your love is yours, all yours.

Moon a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Shinin’ down on me

The words rolled off your tongue with ease and were sent directly to Luke, slipping through his entire body. You fingers continued to toy with the strings and he continued to lean towards your presence, becoming completely in awe with you once again.

My baby, here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

He felt as if the words were crafted for him, each strum and pluck had him in mind, that the choreography of your fingers embraced him. It felt that way at least.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

You lingered on the last note and then changed your grip and speed, confusing the brunette. Your hands trailed up the instrument then stopped looking over to him, setting the guitar beside you and nearing closer to him, resting your legs over his and pulling the instrument into your grip once more. You pushed the head in his direction which he graciously took then plucked at one of the strings, a painful sound from his flicking.

“Here.” You took his hand and settled it above the strings, his arm resting against the pure wood waiting for instruction. Your fingers climbed over his and delicately plucked at the string closest to him, pulling at it in a repeated manner. Once he grasped it you leant over to his other hand to linger between a few frets, the pattern continuous and difficult for his feeble fingers.

“Mhm, just like that,” you praised, your words lightening his view. He continued to pluck the strings and move his other hand, occasionally forgetting his next move which he picked up easily.

Once he became comfortable with the pattern he noticed your hands underneath his, playing a more complex tune. The two sounds - out of time - familiar to him.

You had shifted so you were practically in his lap and spoke “Ready?” To which he nodded, he would always be ready for you. You started, him following sourly after you, you slowed a little gaining motion with him.

“What is it?” He asked, his fingers messing up, his lips letting out a soft hum.

In your response you sung the chorus in time lowly.

I heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

He smiled sweetly, still out of pace, but his dimples showed for your accomplished work. His soft curls fell over his gaze, obstructing him slightly, but he didn’t mind, he enjoyed the simple pleasures as your hands brushed against one another, his lips buzzing a soft sound.

I heard you sold the Amazon

To show the country that you're from

Is where the world should want to be

You both choked out verses and let your voice guide his. He was not a child of Apollo - his voice cracks were questionable - but it was sweet being amongst one another with no other priorities.

When Luke’s fingers became numb he relaxed into your side, his curls tickling your neck and soft breath hitting your skin. You continued to toy at the strings and drifted between a piece you’ve been working on and trying to memorise.

You were a ballad and he was dyslexic, your relationship was a constant blur.

✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞

Tag-list

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

[star--anon]

Minho, who moved into Gally's childhood house

unknowingly also moving into an active War Zone™

it's Gally VS Thomas

they're both ghosts

they're fighting over who gets to haunt the place

both of them have attached themselves to the house already and are trying to convince the other to un-attach themselves

attaching oneself to a place is a simple procedure

In fact, it's so simple it can happen on accident for a lot of ghosts

like Thomas, who thought the house was cute and spent so long there that he just woke up attached one day

meanwhile, Gally grew up in the house as a living human and has haunted the place for three years

So he's not about to let some silly accidental ghost take it away from him

any number of ghosts can be attached to a property, but traditionally, only one ghost haunts it

the others just kind of... meander

most ghosts lose interest in staying connected to the physical world

and enjoy floating mindlessly in some forgotten corner of an establishment, wandering in their waking dreams

but Thomas and Gally aren't those kinds of ghosts

Minho isn't even aware of the fight between the two at first

Thomas and Gally don't really pay attention to Minho either

He's not really a "human being with feelings"

he's just another part of the house

that the haunting ghost gets the right to mess with

until Minho starts tearing down the old wallpaper, renovating the showers, replacing the mirrors, etc.

the two ghosts quickly set their rivalry aside to drive away the parasite that's demolishing their precious haunting place

they start off small

Minho can't find his keys, his TV remote is always missing, why is his toothbrush in the toilet, where did all the windows go, was this area of the house always this dark, why is it so cold, why are his blankets trying to strangle him

(okay Gally went too far with that one)

Step 2: ants start stealing his food, faces appear behind Minho in the mirror, rats drown themselves in his morning coffee, the doors open and close loudly at night, the basement stairs try to chew off Minho's feet

(okay Gally went too far again)

before they can get to Step 3, Minho catches on

he guessed that there was a ghost in the house at Step 1

Step 2 made him realize the ghost might be more malicious than he thought

he starts tossing food into the campfire as offerings for whatever spirit is messing with him

a ghost is kind of like a vampire. They need permission to do certain things

such as eating physical food

Thomas, who died last week and is unused to no longer being able to eat, eagerly accepts whatever Minho throws out of the flames

he stops messing with Minho

Minho notices the decline in ghostly antics and increases the food offerings

Gally is offended that Thomas is so easily swayed

"This is why you would've never made a good haunting ghost"

"Okay but you haven't tasted his pasta. He makes really good pasta."

as respectful and knowledgeable as Minho is, he's wrong on one thing: He thinks there's only one ghost

He buys a larger bed and another pillow, inviting the ghost (just one) to sleep. He puts out a second toothbrush (just one). He makes a second dinner (just one) and buys a second kitchen chair (just one)

for all his kindness, Minho only ever invites one ghost

so of course, Thomas and Gally fight over who gets to be Minho's ghost

(at some point you have to wonder if maybe they just like fighting)

"Just haunt the house. You love this house. You've haunted it for three years or something."

"You're just saying that because you want to haunt Minho"

"You want to haunt Minho too!"

"He's in my house! He's mine!"

"I literally died last week! I deserve some sympathy! I'm vulnerable and sad right now! You have no sympathy!!"

"You can get the pasta that he throws into the fire"

they draw hearts in the mirror (Thomas erases Gally's)

they helpfully write grocery lists for him (Gally tears up Thomas')

they drive away pests from his garden (both try to take credit for what's technically a team effort)

Thomas coaxes a stray cat into the house and is heartbroken when Minho tosses the cat back outside, not knowing it's a gift

Gally offers his old childhood toys (memories are the most precious thing a ghost can give) by putting them on Minho's bed and then sulks when Minho doesn't touch them

(he's afraid of angering whatever put them there by messing up the toys)

Thomas irons out Minho's clothes

Gally steals clothes from random passerby's and gifts them to Minho

(definitely Gally going too far again)

(Minho is frazzled by the increase of naked people outside his house)

they TOTALLY fall in love with him during the process

this is important and 100% normal

they start worrying when Minho takes too long to come home from work

Gally and Thomas even detach themselves from their beloved house to go looking for Minho

(who fell asleep at work 'cause his boss overworked him)

(picture that scene from Ratatouille)

Gally drapes a blanket over Minho's exhausted body while Thomas angrily goes to find his boss

he spends the rest of the night terrorizing him

(Gally is impressed by Thomas' ferocity. He doesn't tell him that, of course)

Minho is losing his mind

because he is the receiver (the victim, really) of a ghost's affection

unbeknownst to him, he is in fact the victim of TWO ghosts' affection

and how is he supposed to maintain his reputation as a normal person... if he's starting to feel affection for a ghost

it ends with all three of them kissing btw

[dreamydelulu]

The seat

Genre: Humor, fluffy

Sorry about any grammatical/ortographic mistakes. English isn’t my first language.

-

The whole group was excited for their weekly movie night. They all gathered in the living room, each member eyeing the couch and the few comfortable armchairs available. It was a tight fit with nine members, but everyone usually managed to find a spot somehow and be comfortable in their own way.

Jiwon and Jeongin, being the maknaes of the group, were no exception to this rule. They always ended up fighting over the last seat left, and today was no different.

"The seat is mine!" Jeongin declared, diving for the last spot, only to be met by the younger's quick response.

"Knock it off, that's my spot! I've been eyeing it since morning!" The younger's eyes fixed on the prized seat.

Jeongin, equally determined, retorted, "No way! I had my eyes on it before you even woke up! It's mine!"

Jiwon pouted adorably. "But I was here first!" he whined, his big doe eyes pleading innocently.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly does 'being here first' translate into claiming ownership of the sofa?"

Jiwon shrugged "Because... well, it just does," and then he continued complaining, pouting, “hyung, It’s not fair. You always get everything your way."

Hyunjin, in his usual sarcastic tone, chimed in, "Oh boy, here we go again."

Minho, always quick with a mischievous remark, added, "Someone grab the popcorn. This is better than any movie!"

Their banter quickly escalated into a playful argument, each claiming their right to the coveted seat. “Let’s do It fair, then, 'll race you for it!" Jeongin challenged, his competitive side showing.

Jiwon smirked, agreeing with it. “You're on! Let’s do it."

As they dashed towards the couch, the other members couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "You guys are ridiculous," Felix chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

Changbin couldn't help but chuckle at their never-ending rivalry. "Come on, guys, there's always the floor."

Both of them shot him deadly looks before turning back to their argument.

"The floor? Are you kidding me?" Jeongin protested. "No way!"

Jiwon huffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I can't even stretch out properly like this!"

Bangchan attempted to mediate, "Why not share the seat, then?"

But their competitive spirits were too ignited. "No way!" Jiwon exclaimed, "This is a battle of honor, hyung!"

"You two should really grow up," Seungmin muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation as he sat down on the couch.

At the end Jeongin managed to win the seat being faster than the maknae and with a victorious grin, he celebrated. "Hah, take that. The seat is mine!"

“Not fair, hyung! You cheated,” Jiwon accused and pouted, crossing his arms, sulky.

“You lost because you’re just too slow, won-ah. Accept it,” Jeongin teased.

The other members burst into laughter, unable to contain their amusement.

Felix chimed in again, chuckling entertained. "Come on, you two, stop fighting. It's just a seat."

Bangchan, trying to play peacemaker. "Yeah, there's plenty of room on the floor with blankets and cushions."

“But the couch is more comfortable,” Jiwon whined dramatically in a grumpy way.

“Wony, grab your dramatic ass and come sit here with us already, stop whining” Changbin patted the spot next to him on the floor, teasing, enjoying this too much.

“Yeah, Jiwon,” said Jeongin with a mischievous grin, with spreading on the couch. “Listen to your hyung.”

The maknae couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated sigh in defeat, but his stubbornness wouldn’t let him give up so easily. “Well, I guess this leaves me with no other choice, then.”

And without saying a word, he just sat on Jeongin’s lap, while crossing his legs as if it was a seat.

"Whoa, where did that come from?" Hyunjin chuckled, amazed by Jiwon's audacity.

Jeongin, bewildered but entertained, couldn't help but laugh at Jiwon's antics "Hey, that's cheating!"

"Technically, I didn't take the seat," Jiwon retorted with a grin, reveling in his small victory.

The room erupted in laughter as their maknae settled onto Jeongin's lap comfortably, and the others, still flustered, could do nothing but roll their eyes and shake their heads.

"Well, problem solved, looks like wony found a better seat," Changbin declared, entertained.

Jeongin was taken aback, momentarily stunned by Jiwon's unexpected move.

"That's not fair!" he protested, trying to hide his amusement.

Jiwon playfully patted Jeongin's head and teased, “Life is not fair, hyung.”

Felix, unable to contain his laughter, added, "Oh, come on, Jeonginnie! You got outsmarted by the maknae!"

Jeongin huffed pretending to be annoyed and rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’ll accept it. But just this time.”

Later, while watching the movie:

Everyone was finally settled in their spots while watching the movie, finally in peace. But, of course, their maknaes wouldn’t let it last for too long.

“Yah, hyung, stop moving so much,” Jiwon complained, the room no longer being in silence anymore. “You're going to make me fall.”

Then Jeongin quickly answered, crossing his arms, “Well, it’s because you’re in my lap. You're not like a feather, you know.”

“And here we go again,” Seungmin announced, rolling his eyes.

“Guys, come on. Can’t we just watch the movie without you two being at each other’s throat?” Bangchan said, trying to mediate their non-stop bickering (but failing miserably).

Jiwon and Jeongin, their faces turning slightly red, exchanged embarrassed glances but continued to argue under their breath. Jiwon mumbled, "I should've taken another seat."

Jeongin retorted, "You're the one who wanted to sit here, anyways!”

As the teasing continued, Minho couldn't resist joining in on the fun. With a mischievous grin, he leaned over to Jiwon and said, "Next time, I'll let you sit on my lap, Wony."

Jiwon's eyes widened in surprise, and he blushed even deeper. “U-um, thanks, hyung.” he stammered, not knowing what to say exactly, being caught off guard.

Jeongin, with his competitive spirit kicking in, spoke up, his tone laced with jealousy. He retorted, "Wait a minute! You can’t just offer that, hyung!"

The room burst into laughter as Jeongin, trying to save face, added, "I mean, it's my lap he should be sitting on!"

Felix burst into giggles and poked fun at Jeongin, "Jealous, are we?"

Jeongin's cheeks turned an even darker shade of red as he tried to defend himself, "N-no, It’s not that! I'm not jealous! It's just... well, it's different!”

Jisung couldn't help but chime in, "Oh, is that how it is? Fight for your man, Jeonginnie!"

Jeongin's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he grumbled, "I'm not fighting for anyone!"

Jiwon, still blushing, decided to have some fun with the situation. He turned to Jeongin with a mischievous smile and said, "Well, maybe I'll take Minho-hyung up on his offer next time."

Jeongin's eyes widened, and he quickly retorted, "You wouldn't dare!"

Felix, still grinning, decided to tease Jeongin further, "Aw, I think someone's being possessive of Wony!"

Jiwon, caught in the middle of this amusing situation, couldn't stop himself from giggling. He playfully wrapped an arm around Jeongin's shoulders and said poking the other’s cheek, "Don't worry, innie, you're still my favorite," making the others burst into laughter and making Jeongin blush even more.

Jeongin’s jealousy melted away as he blushed at Jiwon’s words, and the other members couldn’t contain their laughter at the whole exchange. It was another moment of playful teasing that made their movie nights so enjoyable.

“W-wathever,” he stammered.

Jisung, grinning ear to ear, leaned over and whispered to Minho, “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Minho nodded, trying to hold back his laughter. “I guess we’ve found Iyen’s weak spot.”

The playful atmosphere continued as the movie played on, with Jiwon and Jeongin sharing a knowing look and secretly enjoying the friendly banter among their fellow members.

-

Author note: you guys must be tired of It, but as I said. I love Jeongin and Jiwon’s love-hate dynamics, and makes me having a bunch of ideas to write about It. I’ll try to explore later with others the members too, feel free to make any request if you have ideas to share with me ;)

[idontknow-andyoudonteither]

Toji the Softie pt.2

Pt.1 : https://www.tumblr.com/idontknow-andyoudonteither/740171522886500352/toji-the-softie?source=share

For the first time in a long time Toji genuinely felt relaxed. He was often unbothered by most things, and never really afraid either. He was pretty patient too, especially with his line of work. But relaxed? That wasn’t something he had the luxury of immersing himself in fully often. Ever since he had started hanging out with his upstairs neighbor though, Toji was starting to get more comfortable fully relaxing. He didn’t have to focus on who he was going to fight next, or if he was going to have to deal with the Zenin clan. He didn’t have to worry about cursed spirits, or money problems, he could just be. Most people want to know all about Toji and his past. But whenever he’s with you none of that matters, you’re in a vacuum where only what’s present exists.

“Well I’ll be back to bother you tomorrow, I’ve gotta work out.” He said as he sat up and stretched. He didn’t want to linger in this feeling too long, because he didn’t want to be let down. He wanted to bottle this feeling, and drink it at night before bed. “Of course, I’m going to the store in the morning, but afterwards I’ll be here.” You said as you walked him to the door. He watched you as you walked, and he loved the way you looked leading him. He wished he was walking to your bedroom rather than your front door, but he had a job to do, and it wouldn’t get done cuddling and kissing grapes. As he walked down the hall back to his place, he began to think about what it would be like to live with you. Would you sit in the room with him while he worked out? Would you be in the kitchen making him a post- workout snack with the cat? He laughed to himself as he walked into his place. You had even got him to like cats. Your cat didn’t like him at first, and the feeling was mutual, but he tolerated Fluffy so he could cuddle up to you. Eventually he even enjoyed Fluffy’s soft fur against him, like a heated blanket that vibrated. It was like Fluffy always knew where he was sore, and would try and heal him with his purrs.

As Toji climbed into bed, he imagined what it would be like to sleep with you in his arms. He wondered just how comfortable you were with him. You had accepted the grape much to his delight, and it made him feel like something was finally put in its proper place. He wanted to get closer to you, but he wanted to take his time. You were a safe space for him, and he wouldn’t dare do anything to jeopardize that. Also he knew your type. You were easy to read, but only because you felt comfortable with him. To anyone you didn’t want close, they wouldn’t see much in your actions. Toji however had an insider’s look on how you lived your life. He treasured that window into your life, because it allowed him to feel what he couldn’t give to himself. You were comforting, beautiful, smart, and ambitious.

When he woke up Toji started his day with a run. It felt good to push his body to a new limit, allowed him to expel some energy he had stored up. After his run he went to do some target practice. As he hit bulls eye after bulls eye his mind drifted to thoughts of his plans for the rest of the day. He had errands to run, and he was determined to finish on time, because he wanted to see you today. After target practice he decides to text you on his way home.

Hey you still out at the market?

Yeah what’s up?

He wants to tell you to grab some stuff for dinner, but figures its better to just surprise you.

Grab some more of those grapes :)

Will you eat them all again?

Toji would let you have every last grape if he could watch you eat them. He would savor every moment, just as you savor every grape. He would give you a kiss for each grape making sure not to miss anywhere on your body. But he figures saying that might freak you out if he said that, so he settles for something less committal; You can have some…………. If I can feed them to you. Toji finishes his errands, and begins cooking. While the curry thickened, he cleaned up around his place a little bit, making sure to check in and adjust the flavor when necessary. When he felt his place looked presentable he texted you a door emoji. That’s new what does that mean? you responded. Come down here and see ;) Toji responded. A few minutes later he heard a knock at the door. He smiled as he opened the door, and your expression made him smile even harder. You looked so suspicious of him, but in a playful way like a kid who knows their friend is going to prank them.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Toji said as you stepped in and he closed the door. “Please make yourself comfortable dinner is almost ready.” “What’s going on Toji?” you asked as you nervously stepped toward the couch. “I figured we would do something different tonight, I want to thank you for how hospitable you’ve been these past few weeks, and for all the snacks I ate.” Toji said turning off the fire and coming to join you on the couch. “Do you want anything to drink? I can get some sake or some tea for you.” Toji says leaning forward in his seat. He felt so eager to take care of you; he wanted to make you feel at home so that when he made his request later you couldn’t refuse him. He couldn’t bare it if you did. He needed you to stay.

[milkb0nny]

If you write for Jing Yuan, can I request angst with him being in love with Yanqing's biological mother (Reader) but she died asking him to take care of him? If this isn't up your alley or violates any of your boundaries please feel free to delete!

××× my shooting star ×××

Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Note: Thank you so much for this request! It was a very interesting and saddening experience. I hope I met your expectations. Have a lovely day and feed yourself with some wholesome content as well. 🤎

The night was quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon and the occasional twinkle of distant stars. Jing Yuan stood before your grave, his heart heavy with grief, even after a year had passed since the death of his beloved. Even though he loved you more than anyone else, he struggled to visit your grave. Your death haunts him, as he wished to see your smile one more time. The times he approached your grave, covered in flowers, it was a clear night. He raised his eyes to the lonely night-sky, watching as shooting stars streaked across the heavens, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost. Each one a reminder he had to take care of your beloved son.

“My love,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "My shooting star, my dearest sweetheart, my darling. How I miss you."

The memories of you were still vivid in his mind – the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, and the way you had filled his life with light and love. You had been his confidante, his anchor, and the love of his life. Never did he thought to lose you one day. Tears dwelled up in his honey colored eyes, a hurting smile crept over his lips and his shoulders hung low. He never wanted you to be apart from his side, he desired you every day. He prayed, he screamed, he cried so much, only for a last kiss.

A year had passed, but the pain remained as raw as ever. He had made a promise to you on your very own deathbed, a promise to care for your dear son, Yanqing. The young boy, with his mother's eyes and your cheerful spirit, was a constant reminder of the love he had lost. Regardless Jing Yuan loved Yanqing, he always did. There was no moment where he cursed him or accused him of reminding him of his loss. Jing Yuan was mature enough to use that negative energy and turn it into anticipation. The general wanted to make Yanqing stronger, so at least the young boy would never leave Jing Yuan’s side.

Jing Yuan had taken Yanqing under his wing, teaching him the ways of the world and the art of fighting, just as he had promised. He loved the boy as if he were his own, and Yanqing had become like a son to him. But despite the joy that the boy brought into his life, the pain of losing his lover was a wound that refused to heal. After all, Yanqing often visited Jing Yuan, expressing how he also suffered from his mothers death. Both men loved you: one as a strong, confident mother, the other as a beautiful, faithful wife.

Tears ran down, down Jing Yuan's soft skin, as he continued to watch the shooting stars. One after another, all of them being a potential wish for you to come back. Each of them harbored the hope to wake up and see you. Jing Yuan missed the mornings where he woke you up with caressing your arms and kissing you. He missed the evenings you three strolled through the market. He finally knelt beside her grave, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The pain this man owned ate his soul day by day.

“I can't help but wonder… why you had to leave me so soon, darling. I feel so lost without you. I can’t, I really can’t. You were my little fragile flower and I tried so… so hard to protect you. I still love you. I love you so much that my heart’s been hurting, bleeding and wanting to join you. My love…”

Jing Yuan traced a finger over the engraved words on the gravestone, as if seeking solace in the cold stone. Your name was written there but it had already withered with time. The rest of your tombstone was covered in blue and white flowers that Yanqing had always brought to you. Your son, your partner cared for you but handled it their very own ways.

“But, sweetheart, I will keep my promise," he vowed. "I will always care for Yanqing, just as you asked. I will make sure he grows up strong and wise, just like his mother. He is such a good kid, so strong to deal with your death." He cried out loud, sniffling and wiping away his tears. There were rare occasions where the grown up man sobbed, but when it was about you he never refused to bawl his eyes out. Where were you?

As he gazed up at the sky once more, another shooting star streaked across the heavens, as if in response to his words. Jing Yuan took it as a sign, a message from his beloved, reassuring him that you were watching over him from the stars above. Oh, what bright shooting star you were this cold night.

With a heavy heart, he stood up again, kissing a flower, then wiping away his tears. "I will carry your love in my heart always," he whispered, his voice cracking and breaking apart like shattered glass. "And I will find the strength to continue on, for you, for Yanqing, and for our love."

With one last lingering gaze at the night sky, he turned around, his back facing your grave, and walked away. His steps heavy but determined, as he faced another day without his beloved by his side. Before entering the front door of his residence, he looked up, to the brightest shooting star that caressed the sky this night. Naturally he smiled at that.

“My shooting star. I love you.”

After saying these words, he opened the door to find Yanqing sleeping on a chair. He always waited for Jing Yuan to show up before he head to bed. To Jing Yuan, he treasured it deeply. He softly woke his apprentice up. Tired eyes met the reddened eyes of Jing Yuan, though the younger one didn’t question why he had cried. He knew, they both knew well enough.

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Fic Masterlist

Because Tumblr search features are shit. Fandoms, Fics, and Series are organized in alphabetical order. Each link will send you to the Tumblr version but there will be a link to the AO3 version within that post. If you would rather go straight to AO3, my account is linked in the post pinned on my blog.

Assassin's Creed:

Of Blades and Parchment Series

Tumblr tag: #Of Blades and Parchment

Altmal AU where Malik never became an assassin and instead works as a crippled bookseller. Series is in progress.

DPxDC

Two Crickets (My addition is only 646 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to a prompt by @/ailithnight and writing by @/omnicrafts and @/atiyasnake

The GIW has had Danny for an undeterminable amount of time. The strain is finally more than he can handle and he body hops into a brain dead clone, R13. Danny thinks he is having a nice dream. Kon is worried for the escaped clone he found in the middle of a field.

TW: mentions of tortue

Here's Where You'll Stay (3082 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Here's Where You'll Stay

"As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling. "

When Phantom comes down with Core Sickness it's up to John Constantine to save the ghost from fading.

Nothing Says "True Love" Like Being Given The Soul of Your Murderer (1510 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #nstllbgtsoym

Dead on Main ship. Addition to a post by @/nelkcats

"Another snarl caused him to lose his staring contest with the Bat. Nightwing was now standing between the two of them and appeared to be trying to placate the crime boss while Red Robin made the bloody stupid decision of trying to sneak up behind him. Red quickly paid the price for his folly, finding himself flat on his back pinned underneath Hood's boot while he honest to God snapped at Nightwing like a rabid dog.

"It's my gift! He gave it to me. Now fuck off before I m̶a̷k̸e̸ ̵y̶o̸u̶."

Yeah. Someone should probably interfere before they pissed him off anymore.

"You should corral your kids before one of em' loses a hand."

"Hngh." Batman leaves to break up the fight with Nightwing's aid. Hood scampers off to one of the corners of the cave, cradling the violet ball in his gloved hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It sounded like he was purring. John was suddenly very tired."

Rending Flesh From the Bone (3093 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #RFFTB

Dick wasn't so sure about Jason's "gut feeling", but what are brothers for if not to support each other during paranoia episodes? Now, deep underground in an abandoned subway tunnel, Dick is starting to have regrets as he watches the scene before him.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Slap a Bow on It (4752 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Slap a Bow on It

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

sketch of Danny's courting gift

Star Shoes (2772 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Star Shoes

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."

In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.

The Dead Stay Dead (My addition is only 679 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to writing by @/some-kind-of-creature and @/nerdpoe.

In which the LOA has a rule that those who die are never mentioned again and are erased from their records. Damian doesn't think to mention his late sister. Once he does he creates a portrait to commemorate her, but it turns out his sister is actually his brother now.

The Double-edged Blade of Chance (5309 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #The Double-edged Blade of Chance

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade. 

Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight.

“Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”

"Why would I be a ghost?”

TW: Major Character Death, Child Neglect, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Depression

Unnamed fic (ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic)

Tumblr Tag: #ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic

Addition to a post by @/starwrighter

Fic is currently a work in progress with only a minimal amount released to the public under the Tumblr post. Once it's completely written chapters will be posted and linked independently.