#ignore the little star (ic status)

[anotherluciferclone]

What is faster: the light or lightning?

One is cold, snappy with its manifestations, precise in where it strikes, but brief lived. The other is warm, creeps across the world, everywhere that ever was and will be, but a slower killer.

Both are terrifying and comforting, depending on who you ask.

Right now, Dennis fears both the Light and Lightning.

So, he runs. As fast and as far as his legs can take him, as far out as his keys will go, he runs. He has no other choice. If he wants to stay ahead of Lightning and return to the Light, he has to run.

[agoodroughandtumble]

A Man of Little Words - Roronoa Zoro x Reader Drabble

Status: Complete

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Reader reflects on their feelings for Zoro

Warning(s): 18+ Language

Roronoa Zoro was a man of little words, and, infuriatingly to you a man of fewer expressions. You could tell when he was asleep – and you could tell when he was really pissed off as evidenced by the bandana usually worn around his bicep being tied around his head. But other than that you were clueless. You could create scenarios in your head – pretend that some of his looks, some of his smirks or winks were for you and you alone. You could make up all the stories in your head you liked but none of them could satisfy.

None of them could ignore the painstakingly obvious fact that he simply did not like you like that – like you wanted, like you needed, like your very bones craved his attention as if without it you would fall into an abyss, a black hole, consuming, misshaping, pulling apart every fibre of your being; if only he would just touch you. Just look at you – just give you any sign that you weren’t slipping into this all-consuming madness all alone.

And now he has the fucking gall to smirk at you as he sits by the mast listening to another one of Usopp’s tall tales. The arsehole has the audacity, the sheer brazenness to take in your every smile, every laugh, every inquisitive head tilt as if it actually means something to him.

You hate him in that moment. You hate the fact that he has you questioning your entire existence when for him this is just a standard night aboard the Sunny. You try to keep your composure but you’re acutely aware of at least Nami and Robin having noticed your change in expression and the fact that despite your best efforts your eyes keep wandering back to a certain green-haired swordsman. How you want the world to swallow you up. The fires of hell can be nothing compared to the burning of being next to him.

You fiddle with your fingers, your hair, the bottle in your hand – anything to ignore the supernova engulfing you. The exquisite collapse and eruption you tried so hard to contain.

A voice seizes you out of it – a steely voice, ice thick enough to stop your breath. “It’s my watch tonight – keep me company?”

Fuck. You hate the fact that it’s an automatic yes. You hate the fact that it’s only going to cause more pain. You hate the fact that the pain is more exquisite than anything you’ve ever felt before, would endure again just for those sharp eyes to acknowledge you again -that breath to cause goosebumps down your spine. You hate that you’re so completely undone at the slightest notion of attention. But you do – because of course you do, because what else are you supposed to do.

He holds out his hand to you, expectantly, almost reassuringly. And you let him, and thank the Gods and curse yourself because it’s Roronoa Zoro and if anyone fucks you up it’ll be him.

[Like the Stars in the Sky Part - Companion Piece]

[makutaservaela]

I updated my character ref sheet to include more Order Agents, unaffiliated, and Barraki.

A massive ref sheet for me to use when making my comics, so I don’t have to keep Googling the characters or looking at my sets to get colours right. This will also help me keep my art style consistent, since it’s a guide in my style.

Notes:

The Turaga Metru have been restored Toa status. “Turaga” is now just a title for the leader of the Toa of that element.

Tahu died immediately in my headcanon (which starts right after they leave the Mata Nui). He was replaced as a Toa Nuva of Fire by Malum, who is now also dead.

Lewa has no sensation in his right leg (after his leg was damaged by Thok accidentally crushing it with a tree during a spar), so he had to lean on a pillar to pose for the picture.

Nokama joined the Order of Mata Nui, hence why she is no longer wearing Metru armour. She lost a leg in the battle of the Bahrag palace. Hahli has replaced her as the Turaga of Water.

Kopaka’s eye was poked out accidentally by the Spirit of Ice, Kovohki.

Hakann’s eyes were ripped out by the Dark Hunters.

Vezok’s spine was ripped by the Dark Hunters, and he wears a brace to keep it together.

Mihir is Avak’s (assigned) mate, and Reidak’s actual mate. Veynak is Avak’s actual mate. As the Dark Hunters castrated the Piraka, neither coupling has children.

Nuhrii and Vhisola were accidentally switched when converted organic. Nuhrii believes he was always a male Ga-Matoran and has Vhisola’s memories, but lacks her natural skills, and vice-versa. This has been very confusing for their friends, but the two are incapable of understanding that they haven’t always been the element they currently are.

The Toa Totya were converted into Toa by a Prototype Mask of Life, so their Toa elements are off. Rather than being three Toa of Light and three primary elements, they are six Toa of half primary element, half light.

Vezon grew a spine. No one knows how, as like all of his stories, he is incapable of explaining it consistently and the details of the story keep changing.

The Kra-Matoran (except Zentia) have actually all evolved into low-powered Makuta, but most stick to their Kra-Matoran forms. They tend to only switch to Makuta forms while in combat. Only Radiak’s Makuta form is shown since only his is all that radically different from just a bigger version of his Matoran form.

Zentia is a former Bo-Matoran, who was taken as a slave by Icarax, and eventually rescued and serves as a well-cared-for assistant of Parahn.

Kalmah kept all of his mutations as a reminder to the other Barraki.

Takadox accidentally took a Nova blast to the face. Gavla was his scion who was hidden from him by his queen, given amnesia, and turned to a Matoran. She has since reclaimed her title, but I have her listed with the Kra-Matoran in the reference. She is married to Pohanu (Pohatu's son) and Lonya is their daughter. Lonya is what members of Takadox's species look like.

Karamak is Pridak's queen and sister. She ruled in his absence and kept the Barraki species' alive.

Devaya is Pridak's concubine. Etimak is totally 100% Pridak's son, yep, no doubt there, ignore the suspicious underbite that just so happens to match Kalmah's.

Sama is Axonn's energy hound.

Johmak is a member of Mantax's species. Her power is one of many members of their species could have. He happens not to have that one.

Not present here, Mantax has a brother, and likely has a wife and at least one child.

Irika and Reykav are Thok's little brothers whom he raised as sons (Skakdi have been organic this whole time, even while in the Mata Nui). They grew up beside Toa kids, and ended up starting a Toa group. Kimunix and Nizoka were in the group as well before leaving it to join the Makuta and be with their kind.

Avillus is the Toa of Sonic that the Piraka mention in the books to have killed. He and Nocturn were the only beings who chose to leave the Red Star with Kopaka and Pohatu. He is blind and deaf due to his malfunctioned repair.

Matau's kids Kekek and Usall have inherited Hordika and can shapeshift into Hordika with no mental side effects. Oohnora inherited it as well, present in that she is mentally unstable and unable to use a Kanohi.

All of Nokama's kids are either named after Rahi, are Rahi, or in Usall's case, both, because Nokama is a nerd.

OC Name Pronunciations:

Totya: Toh-Tee-Ya (A Rahkshi word for “Not Toa”, which a Rahkshi named Irunak called them as an insult since they didn’t become Toa the appropriate way. They didn’t know what the word meant, and took it on as a Toa Team name. They now know what it means and keep it as a symbol of humility- that they took a destiny that they know isn’t theirs, and must work to make right the wrong.)

Mihir: Mee-heer (pronounced “Meh-hehr” in a Skakdi accent)

Veynak: Vey-nack

Servaela: Sir-VEY-luh

Parahn: Pah-RON

Zentia: Zen-sha

Zaani: ZAH-nee

Terix: Tehr-ehcks

Alizon: AH-leh-zon

Baina: BAY-na

Zaraki: Zuh-RAH-kee

Nizoka: Nee-ZOH-ka (or) Neh-ZOH-ka

Kimunix: Kee-mun-ehcks

Pohanu: Po-HAH-New (or) Pah-new

Miles: Miles

Manus: Man-us

Velox: Vee-locks

Amila: Ah-MEE-lah

Oohnorah: OO-nor-ah

Usall: YOU-sull

Kekek: Keh-kehk

Avillus: A-vill-iss

Mikaua: Mik-AH-wah

Tambaida: Tam-BYE-duh

Sama: SAME-uh

Goku: Goh-koo

Irika: Eh-REE-kuh

Reykav: REY-kuhv

Devaya: Dehv-EYE-uh

Karamak: Kah-rah-mak

Etimak: EY-teh-mak

Lonya: LON-yuh

[3d-wifey]

What are those WIPs looking like? c'mon pleaseeee 😩😩😩😩give us a list. ur my favorite writer and I read everything I write, I wanna know what I have to look forward to (if you don't want to that's totally okay)

December Wip List

This took me a fucking minute 😭😭 please tell me if any of you wanna be tagged for any of the following.

In-progress series (original)

And They’d Find Us a Week (Hunger Games) - Finnick x implied black!Reader

↳ You run cold, you always have, it’s just another thing to love as far as Finnick is concerned. He himself emits heat like a furnace on the best of days. He remembers cold hands touching his heated skin, cold toes shocking the skin of his legs whenever you lay together. But now, now Finnick feels nothing but a hissing heat as your mouths press together. Heat like a hot knife cutting into a block of ice, like a blazing star consuming him in a ball of fire, only to sizzle into a warm embrace. He melts into you, trusting that you’ll sculpt him back together with your glacial grip.

Or

After everything you and Finnick have gone through together, it only makes sense that you’ve grown a little attached.

↳Status: Ongoing; posted

The Female of the species (The Boys) - Various/Homelander x black!supe!Reader

↳ “So what? I was grown in a lab like a, like a—fucking Chia Pet?” You can feel the air around you become charged, molecules flying by your ears at top speed. Ashley rushes to catch her papers that she stupidly left loose. “Calm yourself.” Edgar drones and his lack of reaction to you turning the room into a small cyclone only aggravates you further.

Or

Both a woman who’s used to getting whatever she wants and a man who’s never heard no, created in a lab. What a horrible pair you two will make. (basically ‘I can’t fix him. I can fuck him though, maybe that’ll help.’ Says woman that is worse.)

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

All On His Mouth Like Liquor (Succession) - black!Reader x Various [Shiv, Tom, Greg?, Kendall, Roman?, Menkin, Matsston, Stewy]

↳ "Mmm. You know, I've got a pretty cushy job in the White House lined up. I might be able to get you on my team." Jeryd places a hand on the counter next to your hip, leaning into your space, but you ignore him in favor of fixing your smeared lipstick. "I'm not looking to be anyone's Monica Lewinski."  “You think pretty highly of yourself." You pause and glance down at yourself. At the way your blouse is just on the right side of too tight. The way leaving the top two buttons undone gives anyone interested a glimpse of your necklace dipping between your cleavage. You turn to the side and look in the mirror at the way your skirt clings onto your ass and thighs, curves modestly on display. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Point." He concedes, eyes still looking you over.

Or

As her assistant, it’s quite literally your job to be a Shiv defender.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Please Don’t Go (I’ll Eat You Whole) (Scream) - Yandere!Billy x Reader x Yandere!Stu

↳"Do you…find me…attractive?" He drawls, words drawn out like you're an exceptionally stupid child. And, honestly, you're starting to wonder if you're suffering from brain damage.  This is insane. Seriously, how many unhinged things can happen to one person in 48 hours? "I, uh, I mean,” you shrug, staring over his shoulder at your wall, "yeah. But, Billy, a lot of people do, which is what I was trying to say—" "There's a difference between people and you." He sits up, leaning towards you. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Billy, it's really not that big of a deal." You sigh, moving to get up—unwilling to let yourself be embarrassed. But he stops you, grabbing your hand, and you realize in a panic that he isn't going to let this go. "It is to me." He pulls you back on the bed closer than you were before, thighs brushing together. "What would have happened if I did?" You roll your eyes. Why are you humoring this? "Well, I might have had a girlfriend who didn't find me disgusting." “I don’t…I…” You shake your head in disbelief, breath catching in your chest before rushing out a weary sigh. “How the hell am I supposed to respond to that, Billy? Wh–what am I supposed to do with that?”

Or

When you love someone the way Billy and Stu love you, well, what’s a little manipulation between friends?

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Once More to See You (Bridgerton) - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

↳ Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isn’t a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother. But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy.

Or

You’ve finally come home from France and you’re a woman grown—far too old to entertain the silly musings you had as a girl. You’ve been presented to higher society and your search for a suitable husband has just begun, but Anthony isn’t willing to be so easily forgotten.

↳ Status: Ongoing; posted

You Set My Soul Alight (House of the Dragon) - Yandere!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

↳ He presents the wreath to you and you have no choice but to take it. There is a pause before hesitant cheers erupt around you, building in confidence until the entire stadium is roaring. Prince Daemon is the champion and has crowned you the Queen of Love and Beauty, dedicating his victory to you—just like he said he wouldn’t.  He smirks up at you, his plan unfolding before your eyes.  It is the beginning of the end. 

Or

Perhaps it would have been easier on everyone if you had just told Daemon you were being betrothed before your father publically announced it.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

She’s My Collar (JJK) - Geto x Reader x Gojo

↳ Oh, you don’t hate them. Hate would require a level of acknowledgment that you don’t bestow upon the two boys. You’d have to notice them to hate them, you’d have to care and you’re indifferent at most. No, it’s much more simple than that. Gojo and Geto just aren’t on your radar.

Or

Being the first of your clan in centuries to join the world of Jujutsu sorcerers, specifically Tokyo Jujutsu Acadamy, is sure to make waves. And with a cursed technique like yours, it’s no wonder the Strongest have taken an interest in you. If only it was mutual.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Star Wars) - Anakin x Reader x Obi-Wan 

↳"I can train her." All eyes look to Master Skywalker's hologram. He sits reclined in his chair—or what you presume is a chair—as if he's discussing the weather and not taking you on as an apprentice. "No." Windu turns him down immediately and you frown, just as against the idea as he is. You're sure many other Padawans would jump at the notion of being trained by Anakin Skywalker, but it's completely unnecessary. "In fact, you are the last person that should train her."

Or

As a Senior Padawan, nothing can keep you from doing your part in the war, not even the untimely death of your Master. Yoda asking Obi-Wan to take you under his tutelage is surprising. Almost as surprising as Anakin volunteering to do it himself. 

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Limerence (The Sandman) - Morpheus x major arcana nightmare!Reader x Corinthian

↳ You watch as Adam and Eve run hand in hand, far from the Garden Of Eden. Steps hurried, frantic as if worried God would change his mind and bring them back—lock them away in that pretty cage again. But they are smiling. There's not an ounce of regret within either of them. You search and find that their only desire is to be free, together. Love is such a strange thing, you think from your spot between Dream and the Corinthian.

Or

If you and Corinthian are two stars orbiting each other, then Dream is the black hole that birthed you—drawing you both closer and closer while tearing you apart. One day, he will swallow you both whole, and you will say thank you.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

In progress sequels

Show em Who I Belong to pt.2 - Dom!Johnny Cage

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby pt.2 - Manipulative/toxic!Erwin Smith

One-shots

Damon, Klaus, Elijah x reincarnated!Reader (TVD/TO) - 1989 is the worst year of your life simply because it's the year you met Damon and, consequently, the year you were reborn for the last time.  (might be a series)

Nick x Reader x Jacob (The Quarry) - A game of truth or dare has led to the last night of Summer going to complete and total shit. Having been bitten by some kind of beast and feeling like you're going to literally burst out of your skin, the only upside is being stuck between two hot guys who are desperately in love with you. It could be worse. At least you weren’t the only one bitten. 

Remus Lupin (Harry Potter) x Reader - You and Remus are quite competitive, always going head-to-head in your classes. It’s commonplace to compete for the highest marks. What isn’t commonplace, is the sabotage in the form of Remus’s wandering hands.  

Sirius Black (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff!Reader - Sirius can’t help but feel like he’s the only person in the entire school that you hate. Probably because he is.

James Potter (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff Quidditch captain!Reader - James Potter has been your sworn nemesis since your first year and now that you’re both captains of your respective teams, that rivalry has only grown. Now, if only Potter would get the memo.

Poly!Marauders x Reader (Harry Potter) - Honestly, in retrospect, you don’t know how you thought this would end without incredible irritation on your part. You thought the four of you had outgrown such childishness, that being the only reason you even invited them to the fundraising event. Had you known it would end like this, you would have declined the offer to volunteer altogether. 

Johnny Cage x Reader (MK1) - Johnny is too needy for you to wait until the awards show is over. Besides, he’s been so good for you, hasn’t he? Doesn’t that deserve positive reinforcement? You wouldn’t want him to act out, would you?

Himbo!Steve Harrington x bimbo!Reader (Stranger Things) - Steve was smarter than you, but only slightly. Not smart enough that he would ever hold it over you, but smart enough to know that the two of you shouldn't have been doing this in such a public place.

College loser!Mike x mean popular!Reader (FNAF) - “I promise I’ll be good, just…” “Use my thigh.” “What if I just leave you here, wet and needy.” “Clean my fingers, this is your mess.”

Manipulative proffessor!Erwin Smith x TA!Reader (AOT) - Erwin has a soft spot for you, his new TA.

Arthur Morgan x Photographer!Reader (RDR2) - "Sure." He takes a cursory look around at the towering trees before focusing his gaze back on you. His wide-brim hat shades eyes so blue that you’re certain the sky itself is teeming with envy.

Johnny Silverhand x Musician!Reader (Cyberpunk 2077) - It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to collaborate with Johnny Silverhand. If only he knew how to keep his mouth in check.

Luke, Han, Leia x Zeltron!Reader (Star Wars) - You’re not a Jedi. You don't know the Jedi code and you’re probably as Force sensitive as a particularly dedicated brick. Despite that, you’re pretty sure the Force isn’t supposed to be used like this.

Sebastian X Demon!Reader x Claude (Black Butler) - Your mistress is interested in doing business with Ciel Phantomhive. Who would have thought he had a demon on his payroll?  (might be a series)

NSFW Alphabets

Star (The Lost Boys) - Adding on to that poly Lost Boys Alphabet

Anakin

Obi-Wan

Negan

Damon Salvatore

Headcanons/drabbles

Earthrealm MK1 boys compete for Goddess!Reader’s attention

Paul (lost boys) eating you out while you’re both high

Dark/yandere Luke Skywalker NSFW headcanons

Yandere Targaryen men (Aegon i, Maegor, Aegon ii, Aemond, Daemon) x Reader - Being the pregnant wife of a close friend

Yandere Targaryen men x Reader - Finding out you’re being married off

More flirty intros (MK1 and MK11)

Dead By Daylight Killers x Obsession!Reader

Eren Jaeger with a breeding kink

Yandere/dark president Loki x Ironman variant!Reader

Possible ideas (I’ll take prompts on these/discuss these)

➔Astarion (BG3) x Reader : 

Smut for sure

Eat Your Young -  Astarion did try to stick to the plan, truly, he did. Some seduction here, a few implications there. It should have been enough to get him into your bedroll alongside your heart. It would have worked on quite literally anyone else, but you’re just so Gods damned oblivious! (might become a series)

➔John Snow (GOT) x Reader

➔Michael Myers x nurse!Reader (Halloween)

➔Veronica x Reader x JD (Heathers)

➔Sajanus Plinth x Capitol!Reader (Hunger Games) 

➔Poly!Lost Boys x Reader (The Lost Boys) - How you start dating

➔Bigby Wolf x fable!Reader (The Wolf Among Us)

➔Jerry Dandridge x black vampire!Reader (Fright Night) - You and Jerry have more in common than any of your other neighbors could possibly imagine. (might become a series)

➔Mischa x Reader (Ride the Cyclone) - You like to think you and Mischa are pretty close, you’d go as far as to call him your best friend. So why is it that you haven’t so much as seen a picture of this ‘Talia’?

➔Dennis Reynolds x Reader (IASIP) - Dennis is used to doing the chasing, so much so that he doesn’t even realize when he’s on the receiving end of his own system.

➔Will Graham x killer!Reader x Hannibal (Hannibal)

➔Rick Grimes x Reader (TWD)

➔Derek Hale x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Isaac Lahey x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader (Supernatural)

➔Castiel x angel!Reader (Supernatural)

➔Abed Nadir x Reader (Community)

➔Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight)

➔Spike x Vampire!Reader (Buffy)

➔Kakashi x ex ambu!Reader x Tenzo (Naruto)

➔Sangwoo? X Horrible!Reader (Killing Stalking)

[aheckinmess]

Jingle Bell Rock

(Part 19 of The Snowball Effect)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Enji Todoroki, Endeavor, Female Reader, Reader Has an Ice Quirk, Endeavor x Reader, Enji Todoroki x Reader, MHA Christmas Special, Attending a Christmas Party, All Might is Mentioned, Got a Little Angsty, But Not Overly So, More Like a Deep Conversation with Enji, After All He's Only Soft with You

Word Count: 891 words

Summary: Official pro hero Christmas parties are much more difficult than Christmas parties with friends who happen to be pro heroes. The obvious trial? The press. Lesser known struggles? Having to remind your husband that even the Symbol of Peace is human.

Playlist: The Snowball Effect

December 19

Pro hero Christmas parties make you a lot more nervous than parties with your friends who just happen to be pro heroes. The biggest difference? The media is a beast. Even just pulling up in the car with Enji you both find yourselves boxed in a metal car with camera flashes twinkling like stars outside the dark tinted windows.

“Ignore them.” Enji reminds me with a kiss to my temple. “It’s just me and you, remember?”

When the two of you step out, he’s no longer your Enji. He is Endeavor.

Flames mask his face as his features cement into rigid lines across his face. His exterior transforms to gruff and grouchy in moments with his careful hand at the small of your back contradicting the icy glare he throws towards everyone else.

It draws a chuckle from your chest as you both make it past the press and into the main hall, where a magnificent tree stretches to the ceiling and declares a season of joy and generosity to the massive crowd of heroes.

“Just me and you and a bunch of strangers.” You snort.

“It won’t be so bad.” Enji consoles. 

“Strangers? Why, Mrs. Todoroki, I’m hurt!” All Might’s laughter echoes behind you, accented by the shuttering of camera lenses. “Surely you and Endeavor have seen me enough times to consider me an acquaintance, at least!”

You chuckle at his comment, not even a little surprised when your husband grits his teeth.

“Hardly. You’re more like an irritation. Arguably worse than a stranger.” Enji growls, his fingers gripping your hip tighter. “Come, my flame, let’s go.”

As he steers you away and off to the side for refreshments, you squeeze his forearm.

“I know he’s your rival, but what’s so bad about him otherwise, Enchan?” You press, a smirk developing around your cheeks. “He’s only ever treated you with respect and honor.”

“My flame,” Enji pinches the bridge of his nose, sucking in a thin breath of air. When he opens his eyes, his hand lays on his napkin. “I’ve explained this before.”

“And you promised me you were working on it.” You urge, resting a hand on top of his. “We agreed. You can train Shoto to strive for the number one spot if he wants since he’s insistent on being a hero like All Might, too. But trying to make him shoulder your dreams is not fair to either of you. The first step to breaking free of those corrosive thoughts is more interaction with your rival. He is human, just like you.” 

“Sometimes I wonder.” Enji mutters, glancing at the blonde who’s still surrounded by fans and reporters alike. “Why else would all my work go to waste?”

“Don’t you think he feels the same way?”

Confusion swirls in the skies of his eyes as he looks at you.

“Impossible. His goal is achieved.”

“His goal may not be the same as yours, Enchan.”

You’ve spent time with All Might both as the Symbol of Peace and as Toshinori. But one thing remains common between the two of them: it’s lonely at the top of the hero rankings.

“I fail to see your point. Enlighten me.” Enji loads a fork with turkey as he eats and listens to you.

“Have you ever seen All Might’s family, Enchan?” 

“No, but I imagine he has good reason for keeping them hidden with his status being what it is.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckle. “I mean, have you ever seen anything about All Might having a family? There’s no mention of a wife, children, even immediate family like a mother or father. You, of all people, should know that the higher up in the rankings the more impossible it is to hide your loved ones from view. If he had a family, we’d know by now.”

Enji opens his mouth to speak, before understanding sparkles in a sea of blue.

“You’re saying that what he really desires is a family, but no matter how hard he works he cannot attain it…”

“Yes.” You nod. “While you consider him your rival because you want to compete for the number one spot, I wonder if he considers you the same because he wants what you have…a loving family to share that success with.”

Both of you eat in silence for a time; while it’s frustrating not knowing what’s going through Enji’s head, you’re just glad he marinates on this subject. When it was first evident Shoto had the desired quirk Enji had hoped for, he’d been much less receptive to any advice regarding All Might.

Trapping Enji in a thick icy prison that took twenty minutes to melt had finally reminded him that you wouldn’t be pushed around, especially concerning the safety and emotional care of your children.

Now? Here you are. He’s much more receptive to your thoughts regarding his ambitious obsession with beating the No. 1 hero and Symbol of Peace.

“I don’t suppose I’d considered that.” Enji finally answers. “You are right, of course. Even now, he still stands over there unable to move because of the crowd.”

“Why don’t we go help him escape for a bit of reprieve? In light of the Christmas spirit, if nothing else?”

And though you can tell the idea genuinely pains him, he stands with a heavy sigh.

“Fine.”

Day 20

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the holiday banner! Thank you so much!

[illuminvtes]

[  olivia holt.  cisgender female.  she/her.  subplot  26.  ]  welcome  back  to  montclair  university,  dove  margaret  holloway  !  according  to  your  student  file  you're  a  twenty two  year  old  senior,  studying  sport management & pre-law,  and  funny  enough  you  were  voted  most likely to win the olympics  your  senior  year  of  high  school  back  home  in  boston, ma.  i  can  totally  see  it  with  your  empathetic,  cautious  and  perfectionist  personality  !  but  enough  about  that  —  i  heard  you  were  lizzie  harrington's former pen pal.  makes  sense  when  you  take  into  consideration  your  status  as  a  legacy  student…  and  the  fact  that  you're  hiding [redacted] ..  you're  often  seen  at  the ivy conservatory,  and  you  kind  of  embody the smell of grass, trees, and flowers during an early-morning walk; chilly air filling your lungs as you sprint across a dew-jeweled field; the quiet tension between your body's limitations and your unyielding will…  not  to  mention  people  always  seem  to  hum  hard times  by  paramore  when  you're  around,  but  you'll  always  be  known  on  campus  as  the fallen star  who  enjoys  origami  and  has  1.3K  instagram  followers…  good  luck  this  semester  ! 

basics.

name: dove holloway birthday: july 30 age: 22 gender: cisgender female pronouns: she/her sexuality: demisexual, panomantic hometown: boston, ma language(s): english, spanish major(s): sports management, pre law parents: wesley holloway (father), clara holloway (mother) siblings: beau holloway (twin brother)

part i: the beginning

like many born into her family’s tax bracket, dove holloway’s childhood was steeped in material abundance. her parents—each powerful in their own right—gave her everything: every toy, every trip, every experience. but the unspoken exchange was clear from the start: in return, she had to succeed. from the time she and her twin brother could walk, their father enrolled them in basketball camps, little league, anything with a scoreboard. but it quickly became obvious that dove had inherited her mother’s stature—not ideal for basketball. so, they cycled through every other sport imaginable: softball, rugby, ice hockey, water polo. only one stuck. soccer. she trained obsessively, rain or shine, her cleats worn down like pencil erasers. her father, initially disappointed he wouldn’t be raising a dynamic basketball duo, began to take notice. he started showing up—at practices, at games, even on the sidelines with a rulebook in hand. that shift, that flicker of pride in his eyes, became dove’s driving force. it allowed her to dream past the manicured lawns of their estate. the pros. the olympics. the world.

part ii: montclair (tw: injury)

dove had her pick of schools, but montclair was inevitable. her brother was going, and their last name was practically carved into the foundation. her days blurred between practices, double majors, networking events, and galas her mother insisted she attend. she was exhausted—but she had never felt more alive. until it all stopped. two games before the end of her final season, an opponent’s cleat collided with her knee. she dropped, hard, breath gone and vision pulsing white. the verdict came fast: torn ligaments, potential long-term damage. physical therapy was non-negotiable. if ignored, it could get worse—much worse. she nodded, folded the diagnosis into a notebook, and smiled through the pain. she played her final game anyway. it was the worst performance of her life. her future dissolved under stadium lights. her father’s silence that winter said everything. the soccer trophies disappeared from the mantle. the montclair gear was boxed up. his attention returned, predictably, to her brother—the golden boy. and dove was left in the shadow, nursing a ruined knee and a law school acceptance letter that felt more like a consolation prize than a win.

part iii: lizzie harrington

dove met lizzie harrington at summer camp when they were ten. they clicked instantly—hours of glitter pen letters, sticker-covered envelopes, and years of digital friendship followed. memes, midnight calls, emotional confessions. there were rough patches, of course. with lizzie, there always were. but dove never wanted to lose her. she gave and gave, always trying to stay in lizzie’s good graces—even when it felt like walking a tightrope. then, just as dove’s world was already crumbling, lizzie was gone. murdered. the grief hit like a second injury—one she couldn’t tape up or walk off. questions cycle through her mind day and night and as she wanders campus, suddenly feeling unsafe no matter the time of day, and a new, temporary goal starts to take form. find the truth of lizzie's murder.

hcs. (tw: injury)

she's a runner she's a trackstar! when dove gets stressed or overwhelmed she has a tendency to literally run away. there were several times as a child her parents had to call the police because she'd backed up her barbie backpack and hit the road. that's continued to this day except the road is a hiking trail and she knows she has to return eventually.

her knee is still causing her a lot of pain. she's always wearing a brace and limps around when she isn't using her crutches.

dove struggles to set boundaries. she's been raised to please people and while it's gotten her far socially, it's also acted as a detriment in that she tends to get her walked all over, as well.

alongside the point above, because she can't set boundaries she lets resentment build up until it floods over in unpleasant ways.

she doesn't drink often and she def doesn't do drugs! she's big on health and wellness and has the mentality of everybody can do what they want but i'm happy to pass. that being said, whens she drinks she's a lightweight and it doesn't take much to get her drunk.

dove is extremely patient. it's made her a good little league coach, tutor, and trainer. she's also open-minded and holds a lot of empathy in her heart for other people.

she is an expert origami crafter. in elementary school art class they had a lesson on paper-folding and it became a lifelong hobby. her room is decorated with delicate paper creatures of all varieties and she loves giving her little figurines to the people she cares about.

typically she's an optimistic and hopeful person that wishes the best for everybody. her recent blow has taken a toll on that, and in recent months she's had a noticeable withdraw from her social circles.

she loves nail art and does her own nails (and those of anybody that asks her!)

she also loves nature and being outside. conservation is a huge thing for her and she signs up to assist with organized clean-ups every year.

wcs.

pending - i'll get these up soon! for now some basic ideas:

a best friend

teammates

someone she's training at the gym

someone else that got into law school (or plans to)

a roommate

an ex

an unrequited crush

[heirbane]

Gaius - and what remains of the Empire at large - has a lot to learn from the so-called savages.

Some of those still in Garlemald would rather perish than think the thought. Many already had, their pride overwhelming, taking over their entire beings much like a belief in a deity would summon a primal.

Their pride only summoned forth death, and so it would continue, should they not learn from their folly.

Some of their ignorance was not their fault, he knew. The vast majority of his countrymen hadn't ever left Garlemald: only those of high birth or high rank ever skirted into Eorzea, hoping either their wealth or their status would keep them afloat.

Eorzea, for all it's antiquated beliefs and lifestyles, was doing far more than most of his kin would believe.

The end of the world beckoned forth the destruction of their ceruleum lines; they had been siphoning ceruleum from Lapis Manalis for nigh sixty summers, a sheer wellspring they simply couldn't imagine ever drying out. And maybe it wouldn't today. Maybe they had decades more of the oil to use.

But it meant naught if their pipelines burst from the wrath of coalesced fear and shame. It meant little and less if their people perished, giving way to their hopelessness, leaving not a soul to operate their machinery.

Eorzea suffered, too. But it was their relationship with nature that kept them afloat. They did not rely on ceruleum, or engineering, or far-flung science.

When they came into Garlemald, the ceruleum heaters empty and broken, they did not deem it a lost cause. After all, they knew how to use fire crystals and shards.

It was an odd give and take, Gaius would admit. To watch a savage pull slivers of crystal from their pockets, gray and dull, and let them fall into a roaring fire with the intent to recharge their use...

Maybe the Garleans were not as advanced as they wanted to believe. It was the same as using ceruleum... except that the crystals, like most earth matter, could be used again and again and again, should one know how to care properly for them.

A ceruleum heater, once devoid of oil, would not continue running. There was no lifecycle in mind for their fuel system.

(Knowing what he knew now of Solus zos Galvus, it made sense: he had no care to sustain his people nor the star, truly. It was a means to an end, and ceruleum oil proved to be the fastest boon to get him where he wanted to be.)

They had ice chests. The Eorzeans had ice crystals they clustered to keep sweets and drinks cool. The Garleans had electric kettles and insulated walls and indoor fans to keep their homes hospitable.

Just as easily, the Eorzeans had boiling kettles and fire crystals; they soaked wash cloths in the condensation from water shards to keep their necks and face cool in the summer. And they, too, had fans, lazily powered by water mills or the sheer strength of the wind outside.

They were not so different. It was a fact Gaius learned upon taking Ala Mhigo and a fact reiterated upon his return to Garlemald.

(Frankly, ceruleum can only heat water for so long. It would be a half a bell before the water in a basin grew tepid, despite their people having water heaters designed to provide such an amenity. By comparison, the fire crystals that Eorzeans dipped in their wash tubs lasted a bell or more, and kept it warmer besides.)

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Haley Lu Richardson

full name: Peach Jones

nickname(s) / goes by: PJ, Pea

pronouns & gender: she/her & cis woman

sexuality: bisexual

birth date: February 23, 1997

birth place: Mobile, Alabama

arrival to merrock: 20 years ago

housing: Historic Downtown

occupation: Park Ranger

work place: Merrock State Park

family: mother

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Peach blows in on a breeze. If there's a bottom to her well, it hasn't been hit yet. She's quick to sniff out a party, or to strike up a conversation with a stranger. She leads with kindness and a smile and occasionally an ill made brownie. (The first two work well, the third not so much.) She enjoys things a little left of center and doesn't suffer bullies easily. Though no one would consider her organized, she does have a prudent sort of responsibility. At times forgetful, it is more like in the course of a friendship with Peach that she will turn up at the eleventh hour with a bottle of vodka and a solution. Some people might find that frustrating, but Peach has found her niche and decided to ignore the critiques.

WRITTEN BY: Kate (she/her, est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: death

Peach Jones likes to get lost. That is when the fun begins.

Her first steps and first smiles belonged to Alabama. Her parents were young, even, by admission, a little foolish. One week after walking across a stage for their high school diplomas they were walking into a drug store for a pregnancy test. As her mom likes to say, Peach kept the tongues wagging all summer. As was her custom, she arrived late with no apologies. Her name came down to her in a Jones family tradition. From Grandma Clementine, to mother Cherry, and on to Peach.

Her parents tried to do well by her, but they weren't built to last. Before Peach's third birthday, they were trading off weekends and growing in different directions. In those days, the sunlight spilt over. Peach's memories of Alabama all taste of lemon and dress themselves in yellow. She remembers sunburns and thunderstorms. There were Mardi Gras and block parties and the tilt of a southern accent. They were happy years when a father could arrive in a pick-up truck and whisk her away for ice cream and mini golf. And, just as their roots dug in they were ripped right up.

At six, a great aunt passed and, to the favored niece, went the little townhome in Maine. It was a whim and Cherry was quite good at those. She packed a car, dressed a daughter, and hit the road. The distance would rewrite bits of Peach's story. Space would grow between her and her father, between the new family he'd start properly. She'd miss her grandmother's cooking and stories. But, inevitably, she'd learn to love Merrock. She'd trade thunderstorms for crisp autumn nights filled with stars, and lemonade for lobster.

In Merrock, her mother opened a vintage and thrift clothing store in downtown. She never lost her accent, but Peach's waned as she grew and turned into a whisper. It was little time before she made friends and settled down in the town. She tended toward the adventurous, and was never too far from a skinned knee in those days. At the footsteps of Arcadia National Park, her love for nature learned to breathe. She was a girl scout and a wanderer. She was lost so many times during a troup hike that they assigned her a personal minder. Getting lost never fazed her though, she'd find little creeks and moss covered ferns, and deer. One day a park ranger found her asleep at the foot of an oak and walked her back personally. From that day on, she was sold.

In high school, she met a boy. Matthew was a fisherman's son and an anime enthusiast. They'd spend sunday mornings on a boat and sunday afternoons in his basement with dvds on repeat. Naruto and Death Note tucked in next to her succulent collection. Peach thinks they could have been everything and that is what hurts the most. The autumn he went over the railing of his father's boat, was the same autumn she received early acceptance into an undergrad program. She stumbled that first year in school, but her mother never let her knees touch the ground. The pain is quieter now but she still marks the anniversary and tucks his collections away.

When she graduated, Peach wasted no time in securing her position at Merrock State Park. At the start, she was young and fresh as spring rain, but she's grown since then. Her job is her passion and one of the only things she takes seriously in life. She still lives with her mother and their immortally grumpy cat. She even still helps at the thrift store. But whether it's at the shop, the marina, or the bar it's likely her badge is pinned just below a smile.

[anotherluciferclone]

tag dump - general

[princessamberechancia]

"Mom, can you believe it?" whispered a young girl, her eyes wide with excitement. She clutched her mother's hand as they approached the grand, gleaming gates of Enchancia Palace. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone path that led to their new home.

The mother, Queen Miranda, smiled down at her daughter, Sofia. "I know it's a lot to take in, sweetheart," she said gently. "But you're going to be a princess now. Think of all the fun you'll have and the friends you'll make."

Sofia looked up at her mother, her expression a mix of awe and anxiety. The palace loomed large in front of them, its towers piercing the sky like fingers reaching for the stars. She knew this was a big deal; her mother had been explaining it to her for weeks. But she couldn't help feeling a little overwhelmed by it all.

As they passed through the gates, a flurry of activity enveloped them. Servants rushed by with trays of food and bouquets of flowers, while courtiers whispered and pointed in their direction. The air was thick with the scent of baking bread and the sound of laughter echoed from the nearby courtyard.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the throng, gliding towards them with the grace of a gazelle. Her hair was a cascade of golden curls that bounced with every step, and her eyes sparkled like the emeralds sewn into her gown. This was none other than the famed Princess Amber, King Roland's daughter and the apple of the kingdom's eye.

SUMMARY^1: A young girl, soon-to-be-princess Sofia, and her mother Queen Miranda arrive at Enchancia Palace. The palace is bustling with activity as they enter, and the majestic sight overwhelms Sofia. They encounter the graceful and beautiful Princess Amber, who is the center of attention.

"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her voice as melodious as a lark's song. "You must be my new stepsister, Sofia. I've heard so much about you!" She embraced Miranda with the warmth of a long-lost friend and kissed her cheek, then turned to the girl with a smile that could melt ice. "And, of course, you're just as lovely as they said," she cooed, taking in every detail of the young princess-to-be.

Sofia felt a twinge of inadequacy, her plain clothes and untidy hair a stark contrast to Amber's finery. The whispers grew louder as they walked through the palace, the other children's eyes following them like a swarm of curious butterflies. It was clear that Amber was used to the attention; she basked in it like a sunflower in the midday sun.

"Your room is this way," Amber said, leading them through the grand halls, her heels clicking on the marble floor. "It's right next to mine. We'll be practically inseparable!"

Sofia forced a smile, trying to ignore the whispers that grew more pronounced as they passed. The palace was a whirlwind of colors, with tapestries that seemed to tell a hundred stories and chandeliers that cast a warm light on the faces of the statues that lined the corridors. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't quite belong here.

SUMMARY^1: Upon arrival, Princess Amber warmly greets Queen Miranda and compliments the less glamourous-looking Sofia, who feels out of place. Amber leads them to their adjoining rooms, and Sofia is surrounded by the palace's grandeur, which amplifies her feelings of inadequacy amidst the envious stares from other children.

Amber's room was like a vision from a fairytale. The walls were painted in shades of pink and gold, and the bed looked like it was made of clouds. There were dolls and toys scattered around, but it was clear they were more for show than for play; everything was arranged with meticulous care.

"You'll love it here, I promise," Amber said, her eyes shining with sincerity. "We're going to have so much fun together."

But as the days turned into weeks, it became clear that the friendship between the two step-sisters was not to be. Amber, while outwardly welcoming, had an air of competition about her that made Sofia feel as though she was always being measured and found wanting. It wasn't just that she was older or more experienced in the ways of the palace; there was something about her that seemed to demand attention, to suck the very air out of the room until everyone was forced to acknowledge her beauty and poise.

Sofia couldn't help but notice that Amber's figure was beginning to mature, filling out in ways that only added to her alluring presence. It was a subtle change, but it was there, hinted at by the way her gowns clung to her body and the way the young pages stumbled over their words when they talked to her. The whispers grew into murmurs, and the comparisons between the two grew more frequent and less kind.

The other girls at the palace watched Amber with a mix of envy and admiration, and it was clear that she reveled in their attention. She would often stand in the hallways, her hand resting lightly on the banister, her head tilted just so, as if she knew every eye was on her. And indeed they were; the way she moved, the way she laughed, it was as if she had been born to be the center of the universe.

Sofia, on the other hand, felt increasingly out of place. Her own clothes, which had once been the envy of the village children, now looked dull and plain next to Amber's gowns. She tried not to let it bother her, but it was hard when it seemed like everyone else couldn't help but be drawn to her stepsister's beauty. Even the way Amber's eyes sparkled when she talked about the upcoming ball made Sofia feel like she was living in the shadow of a star.

The whispers grew louder as Amber's beauty blossomed. Her figure had started to mature, filling out her dresses in a way that made the older men at court swivel their heads, and the young maidens whisper behind their fans. It was subtle, but the change was there, as if the very fabric of her clothes had been woven to highlight her newfound curves. The dressmakers took special care with her measurements, their eyes lighting up with the challenge of crafting something that would truly showcase her burgeoning beauty.

One evening, as the shadows grew long and the candles were lit, Amber sailed into the room that she shared with Sofia. "Sofia, dear," she said, her voice a silken ribbon unfurling in the air, "I've heard we're expecting quite the storm tonight. Make sure your windows are latched tight. I wouldn't want anything to ruin that pretty face of yours."

Sofia blushed, the heat rising from her neck to her cheeks like a sunrise. It was the first time Amber had said something so… nice to her. It was hard to believe that a perfect creature like her would find anything good about someone as plain as she was. Yet, there it was, a genuine compliment, floating in the air between them like a rare butterfly.

Amber's smile grew wider, her eyes glinting like polished gems. "Oh, don't be shy," she said, her voice as sweet as honeyed tea. "You're going to have to get used to it here. I think you're adorable and actually I envy your natural beauty."

Sofia's blush deepened as she looked away, unable to hold the older girl's gaze. It was a strange feeling, knowing that someone as beautiful and poised as Amber could see something in her that others seemed to overlook. She felt a flicker of hope, a tiny ember of warmth that maybe, just maybe, she could find her own place in this glittering world.

But as the day went on, the ember grew into a flame, and the whispers grew into a roar. Amber's kindness had a sharp edge to it, one that was only apparent when they were alone together. Her compliments were often followed by a wink, a knowing look that made Sofia's stomach twist in knots. It was as if she was saying, "I see you, little sister, and I see through you." And every time it happened, Sofia felt a mix of excitement and fear.

The storm arrived that night, just as Amber had predicted. The wind howled like a pack of wolves, and the thunder crashed like the hooves of a hundred horses. Rain lashed against the windows, and the lightning painted the room in stark, terrifying flashes. Sofia lay in her bed, her heart racing, her thoughts swirling like the storm outside. She missed the comfort of her mother's arms, the safety of their old, familiar home. But she was a princess now, and she had to be brave.

As the storm raged on, the palace felt alive with whispers. The ancient stones seemed to murmur with secrets that only the shadows knew. The candles flickered and danced, casting eerie shadows on the walls. And through it all, Amber slept peacefully, her breathing slow and even. It was infuriating, really. How could she be so unbothered by the chaos outside?

Sofia pulled the covers up to her chin, her heart racing with every flash of lightning that pierced the night. The thunder was like the drumbeat of a giant's war dance, and she could feel the vibrations in her very bones. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus on her breathing, willing the fear to leave her. But the whispers grew louder, and she felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

The storm was a beast, a wild and unpredictable creature that had everyone in the palace on edge. Even the most stoic of guards checked the windows and tightened their grips on their swords as the wind howled through the corridors. And yet, in the midst of this chaos, Amber slept like an angel, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo.

Sofia's heart pounded with every crash of thunder, each one louder than the last. She pulled the covers tighter around herself, the fabric a feeble defense against the tempest that raged outside. The room grew darker as the clouds thickened, the candles throwing eerie shadows on the walls. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of voices that seemed to echo her own fears back at her.

Her thoughts drifted to her mother's bed, to the comfort she used to find there during storms. But now, the Queen slept in the grand chambers with King Roland, leaving her to face the storm alone. She took a deep breath, trying to push the fear aside. A princess had to be brave, didn't she? She couldn't crawl into bed with her mother anymore; she had to "suck it up," as the village children would say.

The whispers grew more insistent, worming their way into her mind. They spoke of dark secrets and hidden desires, of the games the palace played behind its gleaming facade. But the thunder was louder, and it drowned out the whispers. The storm had arrived in full force, and with it, a strange sort of comfort. The chaos outside mirrored the tumult within her, and she felt a strange kinship with the tempestuous weather.

Sofia knew she couldn't bear it any longer. She had to get out of this room, had to find some semblance of safety amidst the storm. Immediately, she thought of Amber. Would her older stepsister allow her to sleep in her bed, sharing the warmth and protection she seemed to exude so effortlessly? It was a desperate hope, but it was all she had.

With trembling hands, she pushed back the covers and slid out of bed, her bare feet cold on the stone floor. She padded next door to Amber's room her eyes adjusted to the flickering candlelight. Rain pelted the windows, and the thunder seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace. Her heart pounded in her chest like a wild bird trying to escape its cage.

"Amber?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Amber's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up with the grace of a swan rising from water. For a moment, she looked surprised, but then she smiled warmly. "Of course, dear," she said, her voice like a lullaby. "You must be scared. The storms in the palace can be quite fierce."

Sofia climbed into the bed, the sheets smelling faintly of roses. Amber wrapped an arm around her, and for a brief moment, she felt safe. The whispers had gone quiet, the storm outside seemed a distant memory as the warmth of her stepsister's embrace chased away the chill. Her breathing grew steadier, the thunder nothing more than a distant echo.

But as the minutes ticked by, she grew aware of Amber's gaze on her, heavy and unblinking. The older girl's smile was soft, but there was something in it that made her skin crawl. "You know," Amber whispered into the darkness, "you really do have a certain… charm."

Sofia felt a hand, warm and gentle, slip under the blankets. It began to rub her thigh, the touch sending a shiver up her spine. Her eyes snapped open, and she found Amber looking at her with a knowing smile. Her heart thudded in her chest like a trapped bird.

"If you are not enjoying this, I can stop," Amber murmured, her voice a seductive purr that seemed to resonate with the thunder outside. Her hand didn't stop moving, instead inching higher, the smile on her face never wavering.

Sofia felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing faster than the storm. She didn't know what to do, what to say. She had never felt like this before, the touch of another person's hand on her skin, sending waves of both fear and exhilaration through her. She didn't understand the games of the palace, the unspoken rules that seemed to dictate every move.

Amber leaned in closer, her breath warm on Sofia's cheek. "You know," she whispered, her voice a silky caress, "I've seen the way the boys look at you. It's only a matter of time before you learn to wield your beauty like a weapon."

Sofia remained frozen, her eyes wide and unblinking. She didn't know how to respond to the strange mix of fear and excitement that had taken over her body. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of emotions that lay before her. The whispers grew louder, a chorus of doubt and curiosity that swirled in her head like the storm outside.

Amber's hand continued its gentle exploration, moving in slow, deliberate circles that sent shivers down her spine. The warmth of her breath was a stark contrast to the cold rain that lashed at the windows. "You don't have to be afraid, little sister," she murmured, her voice a sweet promise in the dark. "I'll show you everything you need to know."

Sofia's heart thudded in her chest like a drum, each beat a silent cry for this moment to never end. Amber's touch was foreign yet oddly comforting, a secret shared in the heart of the storm. She wanted to speak, to ask what this meant, but the words remained trapped in her throat.

The room was a whirl of shadows and candlelight, the only sounds the tempest outside and the rhythmic breaths of the two girls. The warmth of Amber's body was intoxicating, her scent a heady mix of roses and something deeper, something primal.

Sofia's heart raced like the storm's wild horses, her thoughts a tumultuous sea. She found herself leaning into the touch, the gentle caress of Amber's hand on her thigh sending waves of heat through her body. Her own hand hovered in the air, unsure, trembling like a leaf caught in the storm's fury.

The whispers grew more urgent, a siren's call in the darkness. She watched as Amber's hand moved closer, the warmth of her skin a beacon in the cold night. The older girl's eyes searched hers, a silent question that seemed to hang in the air like a drop of water before it falls.

With a sudden surge of courage, or perhaps desperation, Sofia closed the distance between them. She leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut, and pressed her lips to Amber's. It was a kiss that seemed to hold all the secrets of the palace, all the whispers and the hidden smiles, all the moments of doubt and longing. Amber's hand stilled on her thigh, and she felt the other girl's surprise, the briefest pause before she melted into the embrace.

Their tongues met, tentative at first, then more insistent. Amber's tongue was everything she had imagined, a warm and demanding presence that filled her mouth, leaving no room for doubt. The taste of her was sweet, like the first kiss of spring after a long winter, and it was intoxicating. The storm outside was forgotten, the whispers of the palace walls silenced by the roar of their hearts.

The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were trying to devour one another. Amber's hand on her thigh grew bolder, sliding up under her nightgown, her touch setting every nerve on fire. The sensation was overwhelming, a maelstrom of pleasure and fear that made her head spin. She felt Amber's breath hitch, the tension in her body like a bowstring drawn tight.

Sofia's own hand found its way to Amber's hair, tangling in the soft golden curls. She pulled the older girl closer, desperate to feel every inch of her, to drown in the scent of her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, a wild and untamed thing that she didn't want to ever let go.

Amber's tongue was indeed long, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the younger girl. It slid into her mouth, a warm and sensual intrusion that made her toes curl. The older girl's hand on her thigh was a brand, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It was all she could do to keep from gasping into the kiss, to let Amber know just how much she enjoyed it.

Their bed garments were the next to go, discarded in a tangle of fabric and desire. Their skin met for the first time, and the sensation was like nothing either of them had ever felt. It was soft, like velvet against bare skin, a gentle caress that seemed to amplify every sensation. Amber's fingers traced a line up Sofia's thigh, her nails lightly scraping the delicate flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Sofia gasped into the kiss as Amber's hand reached her core, her touch gentle yet firm, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. It was a strange, heady feeling, one that made her feel both vulnerable and powerful. She had never been touched like this before, never felt the warmth of another's hand so intimately, and she craved more.

The storm outside seemed to mimic their passion, the thunder crashing in time with the beating of their hearts. The wind howled, the rain hammered against the windows, and the palace walls trembled with the force of nature's fury. Yet in this sanctuary of candlelight and shadow, it was as if the tempest didn't exist. Only the two of them remained, locked in an embrace that seemed to hold the power to shake the very foundations of their world.

Sofia's mind raced with the realization that she had Amber's full attention, the girl everyone talked about, the one who could make even the most stoic of men fall to their knees with a single look. The whispers had painted a picture of a cold and untouchable goddess, yet here she was, her hand on the bare skin of a girl she had only just met. It was a heady feeling, one that made her feel both powerful and terrified.

Amber's eyes searched hers, the storm outside a mere echo of the tumult within. There was something in her gaze that spoke of need, of hunger, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. The air between them was thick with tension, the kind that could cut glass, yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be here, in this moment, with Amber's hand on her skin.

Her own hand, shaking with anticipation, reached out to trace the line of Amber's jaw, feeling the softness of her skin beneath her fingertips. The older girl leaned into the touch, her breathing growing more ragged. The whispers in the back of her mind grew fainter, replaced by the sound of their hearts beating in unison.

Sofia had never felt more alive than she did in that moment. The storm raged outside, a symphony of chaos, but in this room, in this bed, there was only order and desire. The two of them were a study in contrasts: Amber's golden hair against the darkness of the night, her soft moans against the thunder's roar. Yet they fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had been lost and finally found.

Their bodies moved together in a dance as old as time, a dance that spoke of love and longing, of the need to be seen and understood. Each caress, each kiss, was a declaration of war against the fear that had held them both captive. They were not just two girls discovering one another; they were two souls reaching out across the chasm of loneliness to find refuge in the warmth of shared passion.

Sofia's eyes fluttered open, the candlelight playing across Amber's face, casting it in a soft, ethereal glow. The older girl's eyes were closed, lost in the moment, and there was a look of pure contentment on her lips that made Sofia's heart swell. She felt her own hand, tentative and unsure, tracing the curve of Amber's waist, the softness of her stomach. It was a gesture that spoke of a longing to be close, to be one with the other.

Their feminine forms melded together, a tapestry of curves and softness that seemed to defy the harsh angles of the world outside. Amber's breasts were firm and becoming full, a stark contrast to the gentle slope of Sofia's own chest. Yet, the younger girl felt a strange kinship with the softness, a yearning to explore and understand the beauty that lay before her.

Their kisses grew more urgent, their bodies entwined in a silent language that needed no words. Each touch, each gasp, spoke volumes about their desires, their fears, and their longings. They were two flowers in a garden of thorns, reaching for the warmth of the sun, for the sweetness of the rain. THE END

[razedwrong]

Dust Among the Stars

They told us we had 50 years. 50 years before our beautiful blue planet turned brown. 50 years until our little green sanctuary in the stars withered and became ash. 50 years to save ourselves.

I think when they told us they expected panic, riots, immediate change. But we had known our planet was dying for so long. Our extinction predicted too many times to count. At some point everyone had just put their heads down and prayed it wouldn’t be in their lifetime. Besides, it was easier to just move on with life and ignore the distant countdown to our doom.

We knew the hurricanes were unnatural. We knew the ice caps were melting and the sea slowly creeping up around us, swallowing what fertile land we had left. We knew we were slowly killing our planet, killing ourselves. It was just easier to look the other way.

The 50 year deadline was supposed to make us acknowledge our planet’s slow decay. To jolt us out of our stupor and scare us into action. In some ways it worked, there were protests, petitions, and organizations with the goal of saving our planet received hundreds of thousands of dollars. But, In the end it came down to power and money. And those with it had no need of a future they knew they wouldn’t live to see.

I think if it had been an asteroid, a volcanic eruption, anything but this slowly creeping deterioration we would have rallied. We would have found a solution, but instead we allowed ourselves to be boiled to death.

In the absence of change humanity grasped for a distraction. Anything to keep from acknowledging how little time we had left. The perfect distraction came in the form of art. We threw ourselves into designing stunning monuments and incredible architectural feats. Creating the perfect tombstone for our species, a testament to mankind. Something to mark that we had been here and that we were human.

I think the need to leave a mark, to be remembered, to prove our existence is perhaps the most defining thing about our species. We brought destruction upon ourselves, and yet we feel the need to be remembered for it.

But who will remember us when we are gone? Another species? Who knows, maybe this hard brown planet will turn green again, and a new race will inherit this scared and broken earth. Perhaps they will see our towers and statues, our buildings and shrines, the bones of our once great civilization and learn from our mistakes. Perhaps a species from a distant star will find the monuments we built as a testament to our own destruction. Or maybe our ruined planet will continue to spin around our sun, spinning around an empty galaxy. For all we know our dazzling, destructive species is alone, a single spark in the vast ocean of time. Perhaps, we are just more dust among the stars.

[rookwoodacademy]

Congratulations, Ava - you’ve been accepted for the role of Percy Weasley. Please submit your link to the main within 24 hours of this post in order to lock in your role.

Please make sure to follow everyone on the follow list here, and look out for an invite to the OOC Discord channel!

All that said…

Welcome to Rookwood Academy.

OOC INFORMATION:

Name: Ava

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 23

Time Zone: GMT+1

Ships: Chemistry; will favor Penelope Clearwater + Oliver Wood.

Kinks: Orgasm denial/edging; mild bondage; cuckolding; toys; praise + open to discussion.

Anti-Kinks: scat, vore, injury/disfigurement, anything that is or emulates lack of consent // might be added onto.

IC INFORMATION:

Character: Percival "Percy" Ignatius Weasley

Birthday: August 22nd, 2000

FC: Harris Dickinson

Sexuality: Demi-Bisexual

Role: Dominant

Wand: 13 & 1/4 , Vine, Dragon Heartstring

Biography:

In many, many ways, his parents, his siblings — even Ron, Hermione and Harry — have an easy war. Hidden and on the run, their chance encounters with Death Eaters are few and far between, often in places they can simply Apparate out of. At the Ministry, Percy clocks in every day not knowing if it’ll be the last he lives.

It’s an exhausting sort of existence, but he plays his cards well, developing a fame for wide-eyed subservience — the estranged son of a blood traitor, overeager to legitimise his pureblood status once again. Adjectives like naïve and harmless follow him around, cloaking Percy in the rare kind of immunity only usually afforded to the truly ignorant. Slipping between shadows, he takes calculated risks and collects scraps of information, salvaging every useful — or condemning — bit of paper that he can. The darkest days of the Ministry of Magic often go like this. It's a quiet sort of resistance, bureaucracy: wielding it like a wand, employees cite the same “incomplete forms” no one would’ve batted an eye at just months before, effectively delaying new legislation. Nobody works extra hours, no one clocks in early, everyone takes their full days’ vacation. The muggleborn / halfblood purge leaves plenty of offices empty, and nobody bothers to make up their work. It piles on vacant desks for weeks, until the Death Eaters find some willing pureblood kid and plop them down on the chair with no training. They flounder. The proposition to amend the classification of Muggles from Beings to Beasts is sent back for revision no less than thirteen times, citing “grammar errors" some days and "ambiguous punctuation" the others. It goes mostly unpunished. It's clear very few of the purebloods the Death Eaters stationed at the Ministry have any inkling of how a government institution should run. Mostly, they just issue themselves raises and pay for extravagant meals out of the Ministry's coffers.

Midway through October, Percy’s sent to oversee the tipline. He makes eye contact with an individual he vaguely recalls as the Ravenclaw Prefect a year below him, and thanks every star in Merlin’s saggy y-fronts when he can’t for the life of him remember their name. A week later, arrest warrants for muggle-borns and half-breeds start making it to his desk. Colin Creevey, Janice Pepper, Ernie Entwhistle… Slipped between minutes of meetings, transfigured into a-quill-too-many on his desk, tucked into sandwiches delivered in brown paper bags. Percy takes advantage of the chaos the simultaneous muggle and wizarding wars of the 1940s had left Ministry records in to tweak family trees. And when he can’t fake a wizard into someone’s bloodline, he pays a visit to the Hog’s Head —  after all, who’ll begrudge him a drink after work? He walks in, buys a beer, and heads to the dingy little bathroom in the back. Later, Aberforth Dumbledore will lift up the floorboards to find, in neat little bundles, delivery addresses, pages upon pages of fake documentation, and perfectly legal Portkey permissions — all signed by the nice bloke down at the Portkey office.

In March, Percy performs his first memory charm. Andrew Lefevre admits to treason under Cruciatus. He's suspended from the Magic is Might monument in the Atrium and publicly subjected to the Kiss. Percy takes off his glasses and blesses his farsightedness that he is not witness to it. (The screams — and his nightmares — make up every missed detail.)

They don’t talk about the things Percy did during the War. His family doesn’t ask — assuming he’d cowered behind his desk and buried his nose in his work —, and Percy doesn’t correct them. There's no point bringing it up in defeat. It’s safer for everyone involved that they don’t know about the thousands upon thousands of classified documents in his vault at Gringotts, just waiting for the opportunity to be useful: years of incriminating evidence against colourful characters like Dolores Umbridge; originals of every record he’d modified and faked in order to provide muggle-borns and half-bloods a claim to the magic they were being accused of stealing.

When they lose, and conditions are laid out, Percy bites the bullet. His family already hates him, after all; as far as anyone's aware, he's been an exemplary employee at the Death Eater Ministry. He spins a tale the size of which an Acromantula might be proud of: that he’d intended only to find his siblings and get them out, knowing he could change their minds. That in the heat of the moment they wouldn’t hear any of it, so brainwashed by his parents’ blind faith in Potter. When the Battle broke out, the Death Eaters had attacked him as they would have any other Weasley, and he’d had no choice but to fight them in order to continue living.

Percy pledges his allegiance to the Dark Lord, taking the only deal that'll allow him any agency over the fate of his family. As it turns out, said family endorsing the rumours of his spineless cowardice makes for a heck of an alibi.

When he was younger, Percy often wished that people around him would heed his warnings and requests — that his brothers stopped taking his things without permission; that Ron didn't throw himself in harm’s way for Harry Potter; that First Years stopped running in the halls and playing lightsabers with their wands. But this? This is perverse, a violation of autonomy and free will, and Percy couldn’t care less that he’s the one giving the orders. Once they dismiss him, red band tied around his wand, Percy rushes to the nearest toilet and promptly empties his stomach into it.

Then he's told he needs to go back to school. Lovely.

[definesanity]

Hello, I shared this idea, or maybe something like it, with Cocoenvy a while back and I feel that you might enjoy it as well.

There will be brief mentions of some f/f pairings in here, I apologize if you dislike that but I am a sucker for yuri and could not help myself lol.

Also, TWs for the other dark topics mentioned are: Violence, Mental and Physical Abuse and War.

Also, I apologize for the length of this and the likely subpar quality, it is almost 3:00 a.m, at the moment and I'm a little tired lol. I will do a brief summary at the bottom.

P.S. This will be a crossover with multiple other gacha games, I will list them at the end, but try and guess them before hand.

The idea being that the Reader is a plain old mortal that was reincarnated into Teyvat as the soulmate of the Creator/Chief God of the world, only one problem and that is that no one else believes that this mere mortal could be worthy of being the chosen of their great god.

They ignore the pleas and words of their God as they shun and revile the one who only wants to know why they feel a pull towards this strange being and why the characters they used to love are now hating them, well not all of them I should say for many others stand with this lone and scared mortal.

A Princess of another world.

A scholar who wishes to make a wonderland of her own.

A boy cursed with misfortune.

A penniless scholar of the stars.

A knight shunned for a reviled heritage.

A boy raised among the wolves.

An unconventional priestess.

A Knight of Sparks and her Mother.

A spymaster who enjoys the roll of the dice.

A rock and roll musician who knows the pain of being an outcast.

An adepti disciple.

A forgetful zombie.

A Tengu general.

A headstrong oni.

A brilliant Kunoichi.

A strategic fish and her loyal hound.

An ever tired shinobi.

A gentle mercenary.

A stalwart defender.

A cheerful dancer.

A wandering puppet.

A Sleepy astrologer.

A ruler of snow and ice and her outcast children.

A star fallen from the sky and trying to return.

Yet they are few and their voices drowned out amidst the swell of hate and mockery and the denial of food and medicine and even basic acknowledgment as their own friends and lovers turn on them till the time coms.

The time when it all becomes far too much for the mortal to bare.

Tears stream from a god's eyes as they hold the one they love most of all, cursing the world that has fallen oh so very far in their eyes as they grant their beloved their only wish.

They weep as they open a portal to whatever world their heart calls out for most of all, their sobs growing louder as they feel the bond that linked them together begin to darken to near stygian black as their love vanishes, a gentle ruler of snow cradling their god in her arms as she guides them somewhere away from the shattered acolytes.

Some don't want to believe the truth of what they have seen, of what their hubris has done, yet when the skies of Teyvat remain stygian as tears fall upon the world, and when the statues that showed their God and the one they loved holding one another shatter and refuse to be rebuilt in any other form but their god weeping in anguish, and when the warmth that has guided them for so long vanishes, they know the truth of what they have done.

She who rules over ice and snow gold her god close to her, long has she wished for this moment, a chance to prove her own love for them, to show them that while they may not be their soulmate, they may yet find a place in their heart, but now...she pictures what could have been, had one been allowed to become two and perhaps even three, as they join their god in weeping for what could have been.

Those cast aside and shunned for their decision to stand with an outcast soon find themselves being pulled at by those who threw them aside but they in turn cast them aside, their hearts either claimed by the one lost to another world now, or hardened by the cruelties they have seen.

A princess of another world sighs as she looks out at the city from her perch atop a mountain, idly wondering if they would indeed be so foolish as to...*sigh* such a pitiful world this one is.

A former Spymaster offers a nod to the masked agent of snow and ice as she leaves the city that has been her home for some time, memories long locked away surfacing as something calls out to her.

A general flings her Vision at her god and her priestess as she turns and walks away, walking towards the smiling priestess of the seas with an odd gleam in her eyes as visions of lavender hair and crackling lightning fill her mind.

A dancer sighs as she looks to the stars, uncaring of the weeping and sobbing audible over such great a distance from the distant city, wondering when the time will come that she will be able to once more dance upon her true stage with that most lovely of partners again.

And as hearts break and tears flow, a queen of ice and snow finds herself greeting guests from worlds beyond, yellow eyes staring back at her from a tear in reality as a Siren's call fills the air and an offer is made...to the detriment of the rest of the world.

Guilt is such a thing...such a wonderful and terrible thing isn't it?

A weight, a burden, a stain, a noose bound around the neck of the guilty and pulling ever more tight with every step they take, something they try ever so desperately to escape through any means necessary.

No matter how utterly foolish those means may be.

As if breaking apart those who would have ushered them into a golden age of unprecedented glory and promise was not enough, those who separated the two are now faced with a much more horrible display of their foolishness than stygian skies and shattered statues.

For now their god lies asleep, crying out in terror and pain and pleading for mercy and respite and for freedom as they languish in the grip of nightmares and delusions of what could, but would never be.

Great is their grief when all fails to awaken them, yet greater still is their grief when there comes, from stars and cosmos knowable not by them and only to she who forged them, the one who created their beloved god, their Mother.

Her heart cries for her child as she falls to her knees afore their sleeping form and weeps, frigid arms pulling her into an embrace that she so desperately returns even as Asmoday comes to bring her child and her to their domain amidst the stars.

A look of grudging acknowledgment and respect passing from the largely Unknown God, to the Tsaritsa as she opens a rift to take her lady and her kin home, an unspoken agreement that she of ice and snow may come to see them when the need arises.

Foes they may be, but united in their love for the two who weep and cry out they are as well.

Soon there comes a time when the grief blinded and desperate resort to magic and science, to pull and claw and gnash and break apart the walls that keep apart worlds so that they may reunite the broken two.

Yellow eyes light with malevolent glee as the seas around them begin to writhe and churn, legions coming forth from tears in the fabric of reality as an alert is sent across all networks to their allies.

Their smile widening as from the portals step out those who were once their foes and now their friends as they prepare for a battle they knew would come.

The time is come.

Gray-blue eyes drift shut in annoyance as red Shackles flare for but a moment before they are suppressed, a press of a button sounding the alert for those labeled as Sinners to prepare themselves even as their leader curses one of their allies for being so accurate.

Few words are needed to insure all know what they are to do, what to burn and what to take, who to kill and who to bind, and most importantly, why they are doing this.

They would not let the one who showed them kindness be stolen.

Red eyes sweep over those gathered around them, the sound of magazines being loaded into weapons as safeties are removed and preparations are made, being matched but by the rumbling of the earth as there comes over the horizon a swarm made to bring forth a Rapture upon the world of their foes.

Their once enemies and now comrades shall be the distraction to their own mission, although she honestly doubts a distraction will be needed.

They will not let the one who gave them love and peace be stolen.

A great vessel carves its path through the heavens and towards a forming rift, communications signaling that their comrades have already begun to pour through their own portals as the monstrous ship approaches its own target.

Within it stir warriors of power fit to command the natural and unnatural laws of the universe, warriors of ages long lost and warriors of an age beyond that which those on the other side of the gate could ever hope to comprehend.

Those who once chased the flames stand on one side, just as those who were once as a serpent fit to swallow the world stand upon the other, before them stands she who reigns over Finality and she who Reigns over Origin, their hands interlocked as they gaze into the rift with fury in their eyes.

They would not let them take their beloved from them again.

A woman with the horns of a dragon sighs as she watches the portal finish forming, legions clad in armor bearing a helix symbol already beginning to march through it even as Operatives from a ship named after an island march with them.

Behind this force, come forth many others, clad in armors of differing nations of a world that has been given hope anew. One such example of hope being the antler bearing woman that lays a delicate kiss upon her and her white haired and rabbit eared comrades cheeks before she leaves to keep watch over the children of their forces and to await their Reunion.

They would not let the one who gave them hope be taken.

They number the fewest of their comrades, yet quality more than makes up for their lack of numbers.

One by one they finish the inspections of their weapons, idly taking note of the masses of their lesser fellows, Punished by the Virus as they were, gathering before the portals.

Like the drones that would bring forth a Rapture, they will be the distraction to cover their own actions. Granted, with what they have been told and what they have seen from the Observers probing of the world beyond the portals, they doubt they would need a distraction or more than one of their squadrons to take the whole of a nation, let alone a the weakest of them all.

They would not fail them this time. They would protect them at all costs.

And so it is that what should have been a simple summoning, becomes something oh so much worse, as all across the world of Teyvat the heavens yield afore the void, and reality cracks and tears to give way to the opening of doors to a world beyond their own.

A world made by the desperate wish of a tortured heart.

A world where they and all those they loved could be together and have a chance at the happiness they deserve, united once more with those taken from them by the Reaper's blade and freed from possession and tyranny and their oh so painful circumstances to build something wonderful.

A world where they now rest in the loving care of those who want not but for them to be happy and healthy, no matter how much blood they must spill to do so.

A world now primed for war, a world holding fast a blade now aimed at the throat of Teyvat as from the rifts there pour forth legions of number unknowable as from sea, air, and land the world is assailed.

Fires rise into the sky, and blood flows in rivers and forms into seas as corpses become as islands amidst the sanguine tide as bullet, magic, blade, and oh so much more are unleashed upon the world of Teyvat.

So great is the death and devastation wrought by these warriors that the Creator is jolted from their tearful nightmares, the wailing of the dead and damned flooding their ears as they frantically beg to return to Teyvat to see what has occurred.

What greets them makes them fall to their knees in horror as they see the world they so painstakingly made alight with the flames of mad slaughter as their followers are torn apart by beings from worlds beyond.

Beings that now turn to them.

In a swirl of Origin and Finality and Truth, three appear before them, many others joining as they gaze upon them with not but raw contempt in their eyes.

Soon there comes the opening of another rift and from it steps the form of one who has Observed oh so much, one who speaks to them of a deal to end the carnage and misery, a deal to allow for them to redeem their worthless life by aiding one whose value is oh so much greater than their own.

For when they two were parted, the one that came home to them after so long was weak and weary and frail and fragile, so desperate were they for love and care that they wept at but the slightest embrace.

Their road to healing was long and arduous, yet it was aided by those of so many differing worlds now melded together standing as one to aid this one who had helped them so much while all the while being unknowing of how their actions affected them.

Yet no matter how close they came, how many came to be lovers and comrades and siblings and family to them, there came a time when the torn bond bore down upon them and they too were seized in nightmares and delirium.

All because the God before them was such a waste of life that they could not even protect the one they claimed to 'love' from their own followers foolishness.

Yet they were kind, for their beloved wished them to be, and so they made a deal.

Aid them in healing their beloved.

Or watch their world burn.

In the end it is the Mother who brokers a bargain, sadness filling her as she sees the eyes of those so close to one she considered a child of her own gaze at her with loathing and revulsion to match that which they showed her own progeny.

6 Months shall their beloved spend upon Teyvat, the gathered ones fit to protest before an idea struck them and cruel smiles came to form upon many faces as they agreed, and 6 months shall her child spend within their world to be with their beloved.

This shall continue until the bond is mended enough to negate the detrimental affects to their health and the two have regained their vitality, at least to the point of no longer being confined to a wheelchair when they need to move somewhere.

And so the war ends, with nations smoldering and bodies piled high, a land of ice and snow being the sole one to be spared as a mad Doctor powers down the device that tore and frayed the boundaries of the world, smiling as he does so.

After all, he now has so many new colleagues to meet and share notes with and a whole new world of possibilities before him.

Now the acolytes are left adrift, battered and bruised and humiliated as they try not only to rebuild their world, but also the bonds of the hearts once shared betwixt their god and their beloved.

A task made oh so much more difficult by the masses that claim to be said beloved ones family and friends and lovers that move to thwart them at all attempts.

They had their chance with their beloved, and now it is their turn after all. While they may yet welcome those who betrayed their own to stand with their beloved into their family, the rest of Teyvat have proven themselves to be worth not even the shells spent to end their lives and as such deserve not even to gaze upon their beloved, let alone get near them.

Will two be made one again? Or perhaps three? Or maybe they shall ever be parted and bound but by threads of soul, till a means is found to sever even that.

So what do you think?

Also, basic sumamry is:

Reader is Creators soulmate, but no one, with the exception of some, believes it and mentally emotionally abuses them to the point they are on the verge of breaking and so the Creator sends them to another world where they can be happy.

Said world is made up of all of, or most of, their other gacha games fused together into a single mass that has agreed to work together to make a fitting home for the one that has guided them through so much and changed their lives for the better even without knowing it due to them not seeing the truth of the games worlds and instead what the coding that separated them deigned to grace them with.

Teyvat realizes they screwed up big time and try to call back reader with a spell.

Dottore uses a means given by a new benefactor to overcharge their spell and tear at the boundaries of reality much more to allow for full armies to assail Teyvat.

The acolytes get their asses kicked and many of those who had previously helped the reader either betray them and defect or hide away and remain neutral from the conflict in Snezhnaya.

Turns out the war was to force Teyvat to barter on their terms in regards to a deal to allow for the Creator and the reader to keep meeting to stabilize both of their health, which had deteriorated due to the distance and the tearing of the soul bond.

Now the acolytes are desperately trying to get the two back together and to stay in Teyvat, while the others are trying to do the opposite or at least insure that if they get back together again, they wind up in their world and not Teyvat.

Again I apologize for the subpar quality of this and the length of it, but I am quite tired now lol.

The mentioned gacha games, and the ones that would be present were I to make a more fleshed out fic of this, were:

Azur Lane, Honkai Impact, Goddess of Victory; Nikke, Path To Nowhere, Arknights, and Punishing Gray Raven.

Now, I am going to crash.

Take care, and stay safe,

I

That's it, that's the reply xd

HOLY, like, my fellow, how are you not paid for this?!

Still, on this, I can get behind this most certainly; slightly sad to see King's Raid isn't here but I'm not going to be that guy--

Also, man, Dottore really pulled a Pro Gamer Move™ and called it a day. Never thought I'd say this, but thanks you crackpot of a man xd

Again, I honestly don't know what to say: this is amazing as is!

Still, gonna hand the L to Teyvat on this; not the smartest of ideas to that to the consort of your Deity 💀

Last thing; nah, I don't mind f/f relationships, for I too am yuri trash, but I just try and keep it neutral for ease of access.

All in all? Thanks for sharing this with me; and get some rest, you deserve it xd

[fanficwritersworld]

Fangirling Is Hereditary I Guess?

Summary:Go back in time they said. It will be fine they said. Say that to the two grown men fangirling over who your father is.

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Super!Reader PLatonic!Bart West-Allen x Super!Reader

Requested: by this anon. Hope you like it.

Word Count: 864

Warnings:it's kinda crack fic, enjoy. Carmen is Cisco's kid and Essie is Chester's. Carmen is an oc so please don't steal. They're only mentioned

Masterlist|Prompt List

Nora and Bart stopped outside of STAR Labs, the feeling of time travelling foregin in their system. You landed gracefully next to the siblings. “You too are gonna meet your Dad and I’ll fly around the world, see if he has any clones anywhere else” You told them. Nora pecked your cheek, “Be safe, please” She told you.

Bart made fake gagging sounds. You flared up a bit of heatvison, slightly missing his feet. “Watch it kid, you heal fast. I don’t need to, behave” You warned him before flying up into the air. Bart looked at his sister with a puppy dog face. “Why did you start dating the indestructible one?” He asked her. Nora slapped the back of his head before running off to find their father.

After explaining to their family what had happened in the future, Nora and Bart tried to contact you.

“Supergirl, what’s your status?” Nora asked over the comn link.

You were flying near Central City taking one last look. “On my way, need me to pick up some food?” You asked, knowing how hungry your girlfriend and her brother get. “Please pick up that Chinese place on 5th street! It’s to die for” You heard Bart’s plea, already knowing that he was on his knees thinking about it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing at his expression of words. “What about you, City Girl?” You asked, changing into some civilian clothes in a nearby phone booth. “Same for me. I owe you” Nora answered before the line went dead.

You had your feet on Nora’s lap as you ate some food. Bart and herself were having a burping contest and you were the judge. “Nora, baby I love you with all my heart… but Bart wins” You told her gently, ignoring Bart’s little victory dance. Nora pouted at you, her cute little eyes staring back at you.

You knew her game, and pecked the corner of her lip instead of her lips. Nora pouted more, sadly going back to her food. “I love you Nora” You singsonged, knowing she was only looking for a bit of attention which was very cute. “I love you too” Nora smiled at you.

Bart began to fake gag again. “What is Bart or she’ll burn your feet” Nora warned him jokingly. You hummed in agreement before Barry came in. He looked at you strangely, as if he knew you. “And this is?” He asked his children. “(Y/N) Kent, Aunt Kara’s successor. I’m Supergirl in 2049” You told him plainly, deciding not to get into the backstory details.

Barry looked at you and then the speedsters back and forth for a moment. “You’re Superman’s daughter? But Clark has twin boys?” Barry questioned since you looked around the same age as Nora. “I was genetically created by Lex Luthor using the genetic material left by my father when he uses powers such as heat vision or ice breath and an unknown female participant. My goal was to destroy Superman and Supergirl but I was found at a young age by my father and raised by him and my Jeju Lois. Jordan and Jon are my older brothers” You explained clearly, leaving nothing out besides the fact you were dating his daughter. Barry nodded, shocked at the news. “Her and Nora are a thing” Bart added, earning a death glare from you and your girlfriend. “That’s it, I’m burning your feet” You satted, swinging your legs onto the ground. You were about to chase the younger boy when Nora held you back.

She looked at you with a pointed look. “Can it wait until Godspeed is taken care of?” Nora asked you, holding your hand. You huffed, glaring at Bart with your eyes ready to use your heat vision. “Yeah, got no more stupid jokes” He nodded, earning a small laugh of Barry.

“OH. MY. GOD!” Chester and Cisco squealed when they saw you in your suit. You looked at the two weirdly, looking at Barry. “Is this normal?” You whispered. Cisco had begun touching your cape, while Chester was asking questions about your powers, how you got them or if you were an alien.

“Uhh. Same as Dad due to the yellow sun and I am?” You answered, still in shock as the grown men began spiralling into theories about your powers and how you could time travel. “Nora. Love of my life, the lightning to my thunder what the fuck is happening? Why is this giving me deja vu?” You asked your girlfriend with wide eyes. Nora chuckled at you, kissing your cheek.

“Remember when you told me and the gang about your dad?” Nora asked, you nodded. “That’s Carmen’s and Essie’s dads” She whispered so only you could hear. You looked at her with your mouth wide open. “Fangirling is hereditary I guess?” You shrugged, only to have Cisco pull you by your shoulders.

“Who. Made. Your suit?” He asked in the most serious voice you’ve heard. “Carmen Ramon?” You said slowly, only for the man to freak out once more. This is gonna need a lot of explaining without fucking the timeline.

[typical-simplelove]

I Tried (M. Tkachuk)

A/n: Just a funny little blurb I thought of!

In the ten years that you’ve known the Tkachuks, you’ve always been closest to Brady. When you were in middle school, your mother got a new job which resulted in your family moving to St. Louis. As a result, you ended up across the street from the Tkachuks. You remember the first time you met them, you only met Chantal, Brady, and Taryn. Keith and Matthew were at a hockey tournament. Brady took you under his wing, and the two of you became close friends. That didn’t mean, however, that you didn’t have a connection with Taryn or Matthew. You and Taryn had sleepovers almost every other weekend and did things that girls did. Your connection with Matthew was complicated. The only words that you could use to describe it was that Matthew was a pesky older brother who could be the worst to you but also the best. It was safe to say that you went to different Tkachuks for different reasons. When you wanted someone to laugh with and enjoy the day with, you went to Brady. If you wanted someone to gossip with, you went to Taryn. You and Matthew weren’t that close; however, whenever you were around him, he always made your heart flutter, and he made you giggle like a maniac.

When you came to the age to be looking for schools, Matthew and Brady gave their best pitches for their hockey cities. Brady told you that in Ottawa, your best friend, him, would always be there. Matthew told you that because he was older, he was more mature. (he knew that wasn’t true) Therefore, he could take care of you better. You ended up applying to schools in both cities and touring schools in both cities. You wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but you like the Calgary school better. So, when you got your acceptance letter from the University of Calgary, there was no hesitation as to where you would go. Matthew insisted that you moved in with him; however, you wanted the whole university experience and opted to stay in a dorm. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t spend lots of time with Matthew.

Now, ten years later after meeting Brady and Taryn, it was safe to say that you were closest to Matthew out of all the Tkachuks. You were sitting on the couch in Matthew’s apartment getting ready for a movie night with him and some of his teammates. Matthew came and sat next to you and offered you the bowl of popcorn in his hand. You reached to grab some, but Matthew moved the bowl out of your grasp.

“If I give you some popcorn, will you go on a date with me?” Matthew asks. For the past six months, Matthew has been trying to get you to go on a date with him, and you said no every time. It wasn’t because you didn’t like Matthew; it was because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Matthew and his siblings. You’ll admit, Matthew was a very attractive being, and you might have had the smallest crush on him in high school. However, nothing big enough for you to want to act upon it. Matthew, it seems, was in the same boat and felt that now was a perfect time to act upon those feelings.

You look at Matthew with a small smile gracing your face. “I think you know my answer. It’s been the same for the past six months.”

Matthew puts a pout on his face. “Come on, please? I really like you. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything for just one date,” Matthew says. “Please? I’m not going to stop until you give me some kind of chance.”

“Give me a bit to think about what this ‘something’ you can do for me is, and then maybe you’ll have yourself a date.”

Matthew nods like a child. “I can go with that.”

“Is that the farthest you’ve ever gotten with asking Yn out?” Johnny asks from where he’s sitting. In your interaction with Matthew, you almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Actually, that happened anytime you were in the general vicinity with Matthew.

“It is, and I’ll take it,” Matthew says and starts the movie.

What could you do to get Matthew to do that you knew he couldn’t do? You wanted to go on a date with Matthew, but you didn’t want to ruin the good you already had. The WAGs have been telling you that it could only get better. You guess they could be right, but you also thought of the millions of possibilities that everything went wrong. You weren’t sure you were ready for the possibility of it going awry.

You knew that you had to pick something that annoyed you. What did Matthew do that annoyed you? The weird racing stripes in his hair. The inability to take care of his curls. The fact that he always chews his mouth guard instead of wearing it. That’s it!

You look at Matthew and grin widely. “I know what I want you to do,” you whisper into Matthew’s ear.

Matthew looks at you with a smirk and hopes you can’t tell that your whisper sent shivers down his spine. “Yeah?” he whispers back. “What is it?”

“You have to go an entire game wearing your mouthguard instead of chewing on it.”

“What?” Matthew says audibly that gets everyone looking at the two of you. “I can’t do that.”

You shrug. “Then I guess no date.”

Matthew sighs. “How about whenever I’m on the ice then?”

“You’re compromising?” you tease.

“Yes or no?”

“Sure, whenever you’re on the ice, you must have your mouthguard in your mouth and no chewing on it. If you can do that, then I’ll go on a date with you.”

Matthew could do this, right? Simple, no chewing on his mouthguard while on the ice.

. . .

“Do you think you’ll be able to do it?” Sam asks. “She gave you the hardest possible challenge, and you went along with it. Dude, you’re so whipped for her.”

Matthew looks at his teammate and shakes his head. “Don’t I know it.”

. . .

Matthew lasted all the way through the first ten minutes of the first. It felt unnatural, but he knew what was at stake. Ten minutes into the first, the Flames were up by two, and Matthew completely forgot. As he was skating to chase the puck on a breakaway, his mouthguard, out of habit, escaped his mouth, and he began to chew on it. After his shift was finished and he was back on the bench, Sam gave Matthew a sly grin.

“What?” Matthew asks annoyed.

“I guess you’re not getting that date now,” Sam replies.

Matthew was about to ask what but realizes what Sam’s referencing. Fuck, Matthew couldn’t keep the mouthguard in his mouth. He looks up to the Friends and Family box to see if you were looking at him or noticed it. You were currently talking to Lauren. So, maybe you didn’t notice? However, sensing Matthew’s eyes on you, you look down at the bench and catch Matthew’s eyes. His face instantly goes red, and the heat can probably be felt all across the Saddledome. You gave Matthew an innocent shrug and smile. Yeah, you noticed.

. . .

Thankfully, Matthew didn’t let the status of his dating life affect his play, and the Flames won. He exited the locker room and saw you standing there in your Tkachuk jersey.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry, I really tried, but I coul--” Matthew begins but is interrupted by you cupping his face and kissing him. It takes a few moments for Matthew to realize what was happening. When he finally came to, Matthew wrapped his arms around your waist and began to kiss you back. When you both pulled away, Matthew had a giant smile on his face. “I’m really confused because I failed, but I’m totally okay with you kissing me.” And he leans in for another kiss.

You laugh pulling away slightly. “I was talking to Brady earlier, and he was telling me how you were really nervous about whether or not you could keep the mouthguard in your mouth. That’s when I realized, you really did care about me.”

“Did you not know that before?” Matthew asks puzzled.

“No, I did, but, don’t be mad, you have a certain reputation. I didn’t want to be one of those girls, and I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with you, Brady, and Taryn. You all mean too much to me except you mean much to me in a different way.”

“So, this means that I can take you on a date?”

“Yes, Matthew, you can take me on a date,” you say, and Matthew kisses you again.

Matthew pulls back and looks at you. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

“I mean, you did drive me here, so sure,” you tell Matthew, and you both walk hand in hand to Matthew’s car.

“I can’t believe you’re finally letting me take you on a date, and you’re letting me kiss you,” Matthew says excitedly. “I never thought you’d let me do anything with you other than be your friend.”

“I mean, you can do anything you want to me now,” you say.

Matthew looks at you with his jaw dropped. “I think you’re going to regret that,” Matthew says and picks you up bridal style. The only sounds in the parking garage are of your giggles as Matthew places kisses around your face and neck as you both walk to his car. All those worst-case scenarios? Yeah, you 100% could ignore them.

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @beauvibaby @boqvistsbabe @rmaye @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sidscrosbyy @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @laurenairay @sixmapleleafs (Join my taglist here!)

[n0bamak1s]

distracted - mai zenin x reader

request: “could you write a fluff for mai please? also can the reader be gender neutral? thank you have a nice day.” - @hitchsimp

summary: reader and mai are interrupted in their baseball practice when mai’s daydreaming about the reader causes her to get hit in the face by a baseball and reader tends to her injuries. takes place before the baseball game in episode 21. (genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slice of life-ish)

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of violence and blood (nothing graphic), a couple swear words, lowkey oblivious reader lmao, the tiniest bit of angst

a/n: since the request was pretty broad i decided to go with some friends to lovers since it’s one of my fave fluffy tropes but if u wanted just general fluffy hcs or something else feel free to let me know!!

“hey! wait for me!” mai heard your all too familiar voice behind her as you jogged towards her to keep pace. your cleats dug into the dirt with each step, and mai could feel her steps halt as she waited for you. personally, mai felt that the baseball game was a stupid and childish way to determine a winner to the exchange event, but that didn’t seem to stop her from agreeing to practice with you in the days leading up to the ‘big game’ as you liked to call it.

truth be told, if it had been anyone else asking her to practice, mai would have probably scoffed and chosen to practice on her own, or even not at all. but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to help herself as she followed you to the small baseball field that went mostly unused by the school.

she’d always seemed to have something of a soft spot for you, that everyone else seemed to notice but you. the usually blunt and sometimes rude girl let her guard down around you, allowing you to see her soft side.

however, even you seemed to test her patience a little bit now that you hit her square in the nose during your practice.

to be honest, it was more so her fault, though she’d blame it on you, saying you distracted her. as you began to warm up with a simple game of catch, mai felt herself zoning out. it wasn’t her fault you looked so damn good in that baseball uniform the school had gifted everyone for the game. her baseball glove stayed up, sure, but she let her mind wander when her eyes glanced from the hair that peeked out from your cap, to the way your uniform hugged your body so well. she swore you were gonna be the death of her.

except, you might literally be the death of her after the ball you tossed to her bounced off the top of her glove and hit her straight in the nose.

“oh shit! are you okay?”

immediately, you rushed over to her side as she clutched her now bloodied nose. pulling off your glove, you grabbed her free hand in yours.

“i have a first aid kit in my dorm, it’s the least i can do to say sorry.” you said, your voice filled with concern.

“don’t worry about it,” mai muttered, hoping that her flushed face could be attributed to a bruise, rather than her embarrassment at how casually you held her hand “i’ll sleep it off, it’s no big deal.”

“ah, come on! we can’t have our star player being injured, can we?” you turned to her with a smile and gave her a wink. she tried her best to seem nonchalant as she let out a scoff, despite how she let you tug her along to your dorm. she hoped that you would also ignore the sly look todo gave the two of you as you made your way down the hallway hand in hand.

once you entered your room, you gestured for her to take a seat on your bed and gave her an ice pack to keep her nose from bruising, which she did without protest, surprisingly enough. meanwhile, you rifled through your drawers looking for some tissues, holding them up triumphantly when you managed to fish them out.

she felt the weight of the bed shift as you took a seat next to her, and turned her gaze to make eye contact with you. with a surprising amount of gentleness for a jujutsu sorcerer like yourself, you grabbed her wrist and moved it from its spot hovering over her nose so you could move to stop the bleeding. her breath hitched slightly when you leaned in even closer to dab her nose with a tissue.

“sorry again about this.” your voice is so soft that she can almost feel it on her face due to the close proximity of you too. sure, she was used to her injuries being tended to, it was only a part of daily life as a sorcerer. but there was something so different about when you did it, rather than a school nurse. you were so gentle, like you were afraid that one wrong move could break her. it was so refreshing to her, growing up around maki, who seemed to only want her to toughen up, you on the other hand just wanted her to feel cared for.

truth is, the reason mai has such a soft spot for you is that you’re one of the only people who makes her feel like a teenager. you aren’t so stuck up about your status like some of your other classmates, you just want to enjoy life. to her, you’re so comforting, because she feels she can be her true self around you instead of putting up a ‘tough’ front.

snapping her out of her daze, you waved a hand in front of her face. “maiiiii?” you drew out her name as you said it, “don’t tell me i gave you a concussion or something.”

she wordlessly raised an eyebrow at your teasing smile.

“you know, now that i think about it, you’ve been kinda spacey all day. do you need to see a nurse?” despite your lighthearted tone, she could tell you were legitimately concerned that she may have hit her head during the group battle.

mai broke eye contact, worried if she looked you in the eyes you’d completely break down her tough exterior. “just some bruises, no big deal.”

you put a finger to your chin in thought for a moment, before looking up, clear that you’d come up with an idea. “i’ll kiss it better for you!”

now this got mai’s attention real quick. she turned her head so fast she might as well have gotten whiplash. “what?!”

“well when i was younger my mom would always kiss my bruises better, it always seemed to work for me!” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. mai shrugged in response, figuring that if she remained stoic, she could indulge in this moment with you, even if it was just for a few seconds.

she fluttered her eyelashes closed as you leaned in, expecting you to kiss her on the nose where the bruise was. what she was not expecting, however, was the feeling of your lips pressed against hers. not that she was complaining, obviously, she was quick to kiss back, as if it was her only opportunity. she felt you smile into the kiss, signaling that you knew the feelings were mutual.

“by the way,” you said as you pulled away “i think you look really cute in your baseball uniform too.”

god, you really were gonna be the death of her.