#need to let this wip consume me i'm begging

[aaronstveit]

everyone please manifest me getting really into twister au soon🙏

[in-my-loki-feels]

11, 16, and 17 for the fic writer asks!

11. Link your three favorite fics right now.

I originally thought this was a request for fic recs, but all the questions in the game are about your own writing so I guess that's what it means? (Imma do both.😁)

Three favorite fics of my own right now: Beg Me For It, Let Me See You, Feelin Nauti

Three current favs by others: Kneel for Me, Rein Me In, wait for me at the bottom (a Thanzag rec for you!)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

My god, so many. At least 7, but I could be forgetting some. I don't think I've had this many ideas tumbling in my head since the AC2 days. 😆

I have one idea for the President Loki + Don AU where Loki would not only get to take on a female form, but also goes head-to-head with Don's ex-wife (which sounds way more dramatic than it is). I keep setting it aside because it feels like a lesser plot point in that AU and I'd probably be writing it to indulge myself more than others.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Perfect timing for this question as the wip I'm currently working on is making writing feel VERY difficult right now. If I'm totally blocked or I can't figure out what's wrong with a story/it just doesn't feel right, the first thing I should do is step away and see if the next step comes to me naturally, instead of trying to force it. However, I rarely follow that advice because I'm a clown.

The next step is to reach out for help. Either a beta reader in fandom, or my bestie whose also been my writing buddy for many, many years. No matter the fandom or subject, we can turn to each other, and since she has no emotional investment in the characters, sometimes she can see the problem more clearly.

If it's a lack of inspiration, then I usually seek out some new media to consume. One of my favorite pieces of writing advice is: if you want to be a writer, you need to read a lot and write a lot. Reading, watching a TV show or movie, or listening to new music activates my brain and usually leads to new ideas.

Thank you for the ask! <3

[ladytanithia]

WIP Wednesday

Toying with an idea for Miranja's future... not sure if I want to go this route, and not sure whether Faendal would react this way after a long friendship, lots of adventures together, and serving as her steward for a few years, but my mind likes to fixate on horribly sad things sometimes. Working title is Losing Faendal.

@dirty-bosmer @thequeenofthewinter @thechaosdragoness @gwilin-stay-winnin @skyrim-forever @mareenavee

The sight that met Miranja's eyes was distressing. Camilla lay in a heap on the floor, and Faendal hung by his wrists, locked in shackles on the wall, dull-eyed and despondent.

Pulling out the key she'd taken from the bandit chief, she rushed to Faendal. "I came as fast as I could, as soon as I got Endur's message." She unlocked the shackles and let him down, then she turned to Camilla to check her.

"Don't bother; she's dead," Faendal spat bitterly, sitting on his knees, rubbing life back into his arms. "She's been lying there for hours."

An invisible fist clenched around Miranja's heart. "Oh, Faendal... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was too late to save both of you." Her throat clenched up along with her heart, and she fell to her knees next to him, sobbing, reaching for his arm to help him massage the blood back into the numb limb.

But Faendal pulled away with a hateful grimace, and Miranja retracted her hand as if he'd slapped it, her mouth an O of surprise. Her heart stopped altogether for a moment in her bewilderment. She took a breath to ask him why, but he spoke before she could, his tone venomous.

"Don't touch me. You want to do something for me? Then go to the nearest town and send a cart for Camilla. And don't come back. I don't want to see you again. I'm going back to Riverwood, and you can find yourself another steward."

"Faendal..." she squeaked out weakly, choking on her sobs.

"I'm sorry I ever got involved with you. This only happened because some sick Blood Horker bastards wanted revenge against you. My wife is a casualty because of what you've done. My son is motherless." His voice cracked on the last word, and he crawled over to Camilla's body, bending over her with his back to Miranja and sobbing.

All Miranja wanted to do was throw herself on the floor and weep and beg Faendal to have mercy, but she knew all that would do was antagonize him. She got to her feet and ran, blind with tears, back to the cave entrance. Back outside, she screamed her despair to the heavens until her voice was ragged.

She staggered, exhausted, into Rorikstead, heading straight to Sissel's farm, where she pressed a coin purse into Sissel's hand without counting the gold, begging her to take a produce cart to Orotheim as soon as possible, telling her that a woman had been killed and needed the appropriate preparation for burial. She knew that under Bosmer beliefs, Faendal was supposed to consume his dead wife, take her essence into himself, but Camilla's brother was still nearby and would want to inter her in Imperial fashion. Faendal would be sick with the thought of Camilla's body rotting in a grave, but they weren't in Valenwood, and he had to abide by the law of the land.

Throughout everything, she'd never stopped loving him. She had been both happy for him and sick for herself when he and Camilla had married, when they had announced Camilla's pregnancy, when they had announced the birth of their son. She had showered them with gifts, made sure they had everything they needed. They had all loved each other, and Miranja had loved Faendal's son as if he was her own. She was beside herself with disbelief that it could have all gone up in smoke with one horrific event.

Faendal had married Camilla because she was "safe" and he'd never have to worry about her - yet because they were associated with Miranja, neither he nor Camilla had ever really been safe. It was her fault. Never before had she so resented being the "heroine" everyone had made her out to be.

[perceivedregret]

no more pain, except im lying

pt 4 of so it goes. i'm happy to say i've been consumed. rip my other wips tbh /: you can start from the beginning on my ao3 if you'd like. for now, here's pt4

Steve was thankful when he didn’t actually die the first time.

Now he kind of wishes he would have stayed dead.

He looks around, sees the way they’re all surrounded. Hopper stands by the cabin’s door as they all get meticulously taken down by the Suits one by one, their weaknesses being used in full force against them. Steve musters up what little bit of energy he has left and begs for Dustin and Max to run. Those brats have been through enough, they don’t need to see this happen to the three of them, not again.

Everything goes dark as he feels himself burn up from the inside, the injection coursing its way through his body until he can’t do anything but let it completely take him under.

—-----

"Come on! Stop worrying and just think about how cool this is going to be on the way over. Guys, back me up."

Dustin jingles the keys to Steve's car, holding it up near his face with a wide enough smile to make Steve's own face ache. The keys slip from his grasp and Steve instinctively reaches out to catch them, moving so quickly he disrupts the still air.

"Holy shit," Lucas, Will, and Mike gasp, eyes and mouths hanging open comically wide. Steve tries to limit his abilities, always trying to maintain a semblance of normality to their lives as often as he can, so to catch him slipping up is its own surprise.

"Watch it," he mutters, quick glance at the keys to make sure he didn't accidently bend them. "Last time you dropped these I ended up without a house key and had to climb in through the window."

Dustin's smile somehow gets wider as the back of his hands slap the arms of those closest. "I'm never gonna get used to that, holy shit. But whatever, think about it!" He's already shouldering his backpack and heading towards the door that leads to the garage, doesn't bother to look back to make sure the rest are following. "When has anyone ever had the opportunity to take a picture with their own headstone!”

“God, Henderson, I’d hope not ever. Why are you so fucking geeked about this, you twerp. Shouldn’t you be in like, mourning, or something.” He doesn't know why he's following him because he really shouldn't be entertaining this idea. Hopper would probably end up actually killing him if they got caught since he declared him dead a little over three weeks ago, and he doesn't think the guy would be all that opposed to making it happen this time.

“That's the awesomeness of this because you're not really dead. We did all our crying and grieving when we thought you died the first time when Heather snapped your neck. But then you woke up! You die-but-not-really-die a second time and it kinda loses its effect. Except with death number two you now have a headstone! You’re like Han, except less frozen in carbonite and just frozen at nineteen forever.” 

Mike scoffs behind them. "I didn't cry, did you cry?" He stage whispers. Steve rolls his eyes.

"I don't know." Will shrugs, fingers fidgeting with the buttons and knobs on Jonathan's camera that hangs over his shoulders. "I mean, I shed a tear. I think."

"Oh, fuck off," Dustin mutters, beelining straight for the passenger side.

When they get to Steve's car and are face to face from opposite ends of their respective doors, Dustin smiles so genuinely that Steve can’t bring himself to be the buzzkill. If he's honest with himself the idea does sound kinda cool, but he can’t let Dustin know that. Undead superhuman vampire or not, he needs to work on toning down this kid's damn ego.

“Han huh… that’s the cool dude who’s best friends with bigfoot and has the really fast spaceship, right?”

Dustin’s smile immediately drops, the other three bemoaning as they slip into the back seat.

“He did not just call Han Solo the cool dude with the fast spaceship," Lucas groans, slipping in behind the driver's side.

“Bigfoot? Bigfoot?!” Mike sputters, exasperated.

Dustin’s head drops, chin dropping to his chest so fast Steve can hear his neck crack. His head snaps back up, hands coming up as he taps his pointer fingers together. “First off– Han Solo is one of the greatest leaders of the Rebel Alliance. He helped fight for the freedom of the entire galaxy against the Galactic Empire. Okay, that man is a hero, a bad ass… The best smuggler!”

Steve tilts his head, corners of his mouth downturning as he considers the compliment.

“Oh!” Dustin snaps his fingers before his hand slaps the roof of the car. “He gets the girl!”

Steve’s eyes slip shut at the start of Mike cackling in the back seat. “So... he’s not like Han.”

—--

there's more to this part, catch the rest on my ao3

[waywardtakami]

- don't leave me

✦pairing: hawks x gn!reader

✦c/w: language, slight mha manga spoilers, 16+ only , angst

✦a/n: hello!! I'm very excited about this fic, it's my first gn one! It's been sitting in my wips for so long and I'm finally happy with it. hopefully people will still read this without there being smut. thank you! <3

✦summary: hawks gets hurt during a mission...

✦w/c: 2k

Keigo had left you again to fight in another mission. He had only been gone for a few days, but you wished he was with you instead. You missed him so much. He hadn't been physically by your side in so long, causing your heart to ache again. Times like these were practically torture. Waking up without him by your side was agonizing, but you were used to it.

His job was all-consuming and you knew him being away for large amounts of time would affect you when you committed yourself to this relationship. There was a constant worry for his life and maybe a little for your own. 

You and Kei decided to keep your relationship as private as possible so no one would go after you. He didn't want anyone to kidnap or hurt you. 

Even though his musk scent was flooded throughout your shared home, you still tried distracting yourself the best you could.

After making your favorite food, you plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV to try and take your mind off him. 

As the TV flickered on, your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. A gruff voice played over what was being shown. You assumed it was just something about his stats or a recent interview per usual. It didn't help the feeling in your heart subside by seeing him.

You changed the channel, again and again. But every channel had been taken over by the same broadcast. You eventually fixated and listened.

Your heart dropped.

Hawks had been accused of murder. 

"Murder...?" you mumbled to yourself. "No..he...what?" Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to thump out of your chest. You were stuck in a pool of emotions of confusion and immense shock, it was like your head was on fire. 

Dabi...one of the League of Villain members was behind this. All the information you received was from Keigo's colleagues and the media. 

Keigo had been hurt bad...real bad.

The fact that you couldn't do anything about it had you overwhelmed and panicked. When you finally found out which hospital he was brought to through FatGum, you drove yourself there.

Of course he was brought to one one of the furthest ones from where you guys lived. On top of that, traffic was horrendous. With everything that had gone down, the citizens of the city were frantic and trying to get home to their families.

Your hands and entire body practically trembled while driving. Your eyes pricked with tears at the thought of Keigo's wounded state. "He's fine he's fine he's FINE!" You kept telling yourself over and over. 

When you made it to the hospital, there was a large number of people in the waiting room. The sounds of people clamoring in and trying to get a room were deafening. You hurried over to the front desk. 

"Hello Ma'am I need to see Hawks, he should be here." She wouldn't let you in his room. You wanted to see him, no you needed to see him. You started crying, pleading, begging for her to let you go in his room. But the front desk lady apologized and insisted he needed to rest and isn't accepting visitors. 

You knew it was really because she probably thought you were just some fan of his. Or maybe even a reporter trying to sneak in photos. But no, you were his baby, his life, and they weren't going to let you in.

"I'M HIS DAMN PARTNER FOR GOD SAKES!" You yell while slamming your fist against the counter. You didn't realize how much impact you put into your fist until you felt pain in your hand. The waiting room goes almost quiet and heads turn to look at you. You glance back to see all the faces turned to you. 

Your voice softens from embarrassment. "Please...just let me see him." Your fist still against the counter looking at the nurse with tears streaming down your face. 

She stands up and moves closer, "I'm so sorry, I believe you…" She slides a clip board with a few papers attached. "...but we can't let you in just yet he's still recovering from his injuries, he needs to rest right now. Please fill these out while you wait." She looks back up with you with a faint smile. She really does believe you. She can see it in your eyes, the pain, she understood.

You release your hand, and pick up the clipboard. Looking at her on the other side of the counter you give her a face flustered nod and mouth a quick "thank you."

You go sit down comfortably in one of the empty chairs to wait for keigo to wake up...

The news of your wounded boyfriend was already half across Japan. After filling out the forms you scroll through your phone to calm yourself down. You kept seeing post after post about him. Almost all news headlines had his name. 

You think to yourself about how much of it is all bullshit and that he's fine. Deep down you weren't sure if the words your brain kept telling you were true. You click on one of the posts about him that reads: 

"THE NUMBER TWO PRO HERO DEAD" 

Your heart skips a beat, but quickly you realize it's just a fake. You scroll through, lightly skimming the bullcrap you were reading. You scroll and see a photo taken of him the night he was brought to the hospital. You wonder how the press even got a photo of him. You focus on the photo, he does look dead. It only showed his upper body, completely covered in burns. More tears forming at the corners of your eyes just seeing him in the photo. Oh and his wings, his big bright vermilion wings...gone.

You were a complete mess at this point but your sniffles and choked sobs were interrupted by the front desk lady waving to you. "He's awake." 

Quickly following her into the room you see him. As you stand in the doorway for a moment, your heart sinks. You hurry to him. He had bandages wrapped around his head. His hair was short and mostly singed off. And his wings...they really were gone. "I'll leave you two alone," the nurse walks out and closes the door behind her.

You turn back to him.

"Kei?" you whimpered out.

His half lidded eyes look at you. His formerly bright, charming and yellow pupils have become dark and filled with anguish. He was wearing a mask over his nose and mouth with two tubes coming from the sides of it. He couldn't speak or breath himself, due to his throat being burned. 

Of course he knew it was you. Tears welled up deep inside and coursed down his cheeks. Seeing him like this had your body nauseas. You move to cup your hand on his face, feeling the material of his mask rather than his soft subtle skin. You graze your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe away his tears.

You pick up one of his hands to hold it in yours. "Kei….I'm so glad you're okay." You were sniffling through each word. He slowly raises his arm to point to the phone sitting on the table near his hospital bed. Handing it to him, you watch as his calloused fingers type out what he wants to say. 

"Angel, I've missed you so much, please never leave my side." You faintly smile at him, wishing you could hear those words come from his mouth and not the AI voice. 

"I won't leave you Keigo, I'm here, I won't go anywhere."

He types again. "I'm pretty beat up, but I think I'll make it."

Your ears focus on "think" for a moment. "Yes Kei you'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay. You felt a bit better being in his presence but you still couldn't bear the sight of him. Your eyes began to prick with tears once again and this time Kei was the one who bought his hand up to brush your tears away just like you did moments ago. 

You try your best to wrap your arms around him without causing him anymore pain. You could feel him wince when you laid your head against his chest. "Sorry Kei I didn't mean to hur-" He waves his hand and shakes his head, signaling that it's okay.

Your body looked calm despite how tangled your mind was.There were many questions that flooded your mind. So many things you wanted to say. But you could worry about the details later. Right now you were finally with him again, there was no way you were letting him leave you ever again.

You were bent over, upper body on top of him at an awkward position. You didn't want to hurt him, so this had to work.

Despite the position, you took in the moment with your boyfriend. Feeling his chest slowly rise up and down. You close your eyes and imagine you were back home with him in bed. Just snuggling on a weekend afternoon, light shining in on him making his wings light up beautifully against the sun. His golden locks and glowing skin, his scent washing over your senses. Your warm bodies practically glued together. You wanted that again, you wanted everything back to normal.

He moved one of his scarred hands to your back, slowly rubbing up and down. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He was fighting so hard on the inside. So damn hard...for you. He didn't want to leave you, he couldn't. His mind wandered about the life he had planned to have with you.

He faintly smiled under the mask when he imagined you walking down the aisle...holding your first child...sitting in little rocking chairs growing old together. That's all he wanted.

Both of your tears never stopped. You were both silent. The only sounds to be heard were each other's quiet sniffles and the monitor Keigo was attached to, making a faint beep to his heart beat. Still laying on his chest, his breathing started to slow and so did the beeping, being lost in the moment you didn't notice really but he knew.

He waved his hand signaling for you to stand up and brought his hand to take off his mask. He couldn't hold on much longer. Every aching pain inside him felt like knives stabbing his insides and with each stab more time from his life was taken.

"Kei, you need to keep it on to breath, please." He shakes his head and takes it off anyways. The beeping still started to slow. The mask hung off the side of his face. His honeyed voice now husk from the burns. 

"Baby...I love you so...so.." He coughs making him hiss at the pain.

"No..fuck..Kei stop, you're going to be okay just put the damn mask on." 

"I'm too..far..gone, I have no more fight left." 

Holding his jaw in your hands,your face inches from him. "No you have to stay strong for me, please don't leave me again, I can't do this without you." 

"Kid...please...when I'm gone...find someone else and-

"NO- I ONLY WANT YOU!" You cry out, holding his head to your chest. Long-lasting sobs leaving your mouth.

"I love...you" His breathing is heavy from trying to speak. He needed to tell you this. He needed you to understand how much he loves you.

Moving his head from your chest. "I love you too...kiego." You manage to say through your choked sobs. 

You move to have your lips brush his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin. He closes his eyes and connects his lips to yours. It was deep and passionate, like you were kissing him for the first time. You held one side of his face with one hand, and held his hand with the other. 

But when you pull away, his eyes don't open. It's like that's all he wanted, no needed. One last kiss, one last touch. To feel you. 

His breathing completely slows, and you're left with the prolonged beep of the monitor. He was gone. The man who was always too fast for his own good, had left you and the world too fast.

✶tag list: @levithestripper @sleepysnk @conniesspringersgf @regretfulfairies @miyanom @sashatotie @romeoandjuliet96 @strawberry-pp @megvmi-s @cinnamonnn-roll @gooddayzarerare @kkodzvken

[heartofspells]

Also for SSS

Daniiiiiiii. Totally the first time you've been in my ask box today.

Oh, SSS. This one will be...admittedly rough. It's a continuation to The Demons We're Made of as well as an alternate to Unbreak the Broken, all falling within the same series. Demons is the start, while Unbreak the Broken and SSS are explorations and glimpses into what comes next depending on outcomes revolving around difficult choices.

--

His head whipping up at the refusal, Sirius finally looks at Remus, finding not the desolation and defeat he'd expected, but a steely determination rippling through his brown eyes, pulling Sirius down like quicksand. He blinks, stutters, all his words drying up in his throat as Remus shifts forward on the bed until his knees are pressing into Sirius' thigh and hip, a solid weight, some sort of sturdy comfort that's jarring to Sirius. Hands slip around the sides of his neck, warm where Sirius' flesh feels so cold, just as it always does in comparison. Fingers twine into the baby fine locks of hair at his nape, an action so familiar that it's almost like coming home after the most terrible of days, stripping away shoes, layers of clothing, falling into an embracing bed or a hot bath, welcoming arms always there on the other side.

"Please," begs Remus, holding with a gentle pressure, allowing escape if Sirius wants it but not relenting in his grasp as they sit together. "Please don't. I know we're – " He stops, swallows, his mouth wobbling terribly as Sirius watches. "I know. Things aren't fixed. They aren't better or mended. What I said…Sirius, I'll never forgive myself for it, for that moment of weakness when you needed me to be better."

Sirius shakes his head roughly, Remus' hands moving with the motion. His mouth opens, but a finger slides around, pressing over his lips, Remus shushing him softly.

"Don't say you didn't because you did. You were pleading with me to listen and I didn't. I promised that I would always listen to everything you had to say and when it mattered the most, I failed you. I'm so sorry for that, but I'm begging you now to hear me."

Inhaling a shuddering breath, finger dragging across Sirius' lips with a reverence he could paint the earth with for how many times he's felt it, so strong as it radiates out from his husband that Sirius thinks Remus is frightened he'll never get to touch him again, his eyes meeting Sirius' own, brown melting under the raging furnace of past days.

"Please don't say you're finished. We're not finished, Sirius. If you need more time, that's okay. I can wait. I will always wait for you just as I always have, but I can't let you slip away from me again without fighting to keep you. I can't lose you again." A sob rattles through him, tearless but audible, shaking, Remus licking over his own lips as he tries to stifle it. "I love you. More than anything, I love you."

Closing his eyes tightly, Sirius crumbles forward, Remus catching him with that same consuming warmth. Their foreheads press together, cold and warm fronts of two storm systems colliding, creating something new, a powerful force that ricochets inside every part of Sirius' body, no different than it's ever been for them, not since they were teenagers hiding away inside broom cupboards, avoiding curious eyes and nosy professors, fumbling in the dark, so uncertain but still sure.

"I love you, too," he whispers, "but I – Remus, what if love isn't enough?" And Sirius can't look at him again, can't force his eyes open, the soft words the most horrible of admittances, Sirius' own fears cracking through to the surface, flooding his veins and chest like gates opened, dam walls lifting, water rushing out to drown everything else away.

The spasm that races through Remus is felt deep enough to grate cartilage together between his joints, but the fingers resting on his neck tighten instead of slackening, still not giving up.

Send me an ask about a WIP!

[cross-d-a]

I want to know ALL about Wu Xie embarrassing time traveler!Li Cu!!! ✨✨ I'm also v intrigued by Nie Huisang death death death

(Also, Cross you have so many wips; I read in awe. And to think I thought I had a lot of star wars fix-it ideas! I only have anything at all written down for two of them!)

(this refers to the WIP tag game I completed a few days ago!)

Wu Xie being EMBARRASSING & Li Cu Time Travel: 

I’ve got a series of interconnected oneshots planned where Li Cu just- accidentally hops back in time to every drama/book and helps out the Iron Triangle. and it’s more like LI CU embarrassing WU XIE haha

I thought it’d be HILARIOUS if Li Cu got to see how Wu Xie (UR MY DAD BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE) is so YOUNG and STUPID and EMBARRASSING when he’s young!! Wu Xie making (ACTUALLY) innocent doe eyes at an emo Xiao Ge?? GROSS. Wu Xie accidentally (DELIBERATELY?) setting off multiple traps in a tomb?? Li Cu is 10000/10 going to RECORD THIS on his phone and bring it BACK to the future and make fun of Wu Xie FOREVER. Also!!! There are SO MANY SNAKES in Ultimate Note!! And?? Conveniently?? Li Cu has a lil’ snake buddy?? MAYBE HE COULD HELP??? 

I basically want Li Cu being the Actual Competent One and the baby Iron Triangle floundering. Mostly Wu Xie. I want Wu Xie floundering. I also want Wu Xie SO EMBARRASSED when Li Cu hops back to his own time. 

li cu: DAD UR AN IDIOT 

wu xie: i DONT WANT TO RELIVE IT PLS AND THANK 

li cu: nO!! U ARE GOING TO SUFFER!! UR SO STUPID u set off FIVE TRAPS

wu xie: i hate you 

li cu: no u don’t u just told me u loved and appreciated me for saving ur life like ten minutes ago. there were tears in your eyes. actually they were streaming down ur face. u might have been hugging my leg and sobbing

wu xie: tHAT WAS SIXTEEN YEARS AGO FOR ME OK i am an OLD MAN

Nie Huaisang death death death:

I think it’s hilarious that you picked out one of the resurrective immortality fics considering we were JUST talking about the old guard hahaha. This one I actually have a good chunk written so far, so here is a long snippet near the beginning. Context is that Nie Huaisang’s mother is VERY pregnant and she’s riding through the mountains to visit her family before she gives birth. WARNINGS for gore (kinda??) and child death and just- DEATH in general:

There are beasts in the mountains. Ravenous, born of fury and blood, more ragged spirit than flesh. Their claws are jagged and broken and their maws drip with sizzling saliva. They have roamed the mountains for years and years, and have only grown more enraged, voracious.

The Nie Clan have always harnessed the butchery of their past. Binding rage and ruin to themselves, channeling it through their hearts and into their swords until they are one and the same. Until it feeds upon their flesh and their spirit, gnawing on their bones, carving out a little space for itself between brittle ribs. Until, one bloody piece at a time, it consumes them whole.

The Nie Clan’s power is also the source of their doom, and these beasts who roam and know only hate hate hate are Nie-furen’s doom, as well.

They descend upon the Nie in the dead of night, a roiling mass of snapping teeth and furious howls. There is blood, screaming, desperate flashes of Dao magic and heavy blades. But there are too many and it is not enough.

But the mighty Phoenix of the West has always been filled with unmatched fury and she is full of new life and about to burst. She will not let her child die here today. Not before he can breathe sweet fresh air and keen that first high cry. Not before his father can cradle him in his arms and his older brother can plant a kiss on his forehead.

That rage within her swells. It devours her spirit and bleeds out her eyes as she screams screams screams- a raging beacon of power and brutality and every ancestor’s grief.

She slaughters everything in her path.

When she comes to, she is soaked in blood and there is pain in her belly and an ache behind her eyes and in every breath- but she is alive. She lies amidst the ruins of her people and the lingering darkness of vanquished spirits and Shan Xifeng—

She goes into labour.

It is long and hard, lasting through the night into the bloody dawn and beyond. She manages to crawl to the edge of their encampment but no further. She twists into a curl of agony and cries into the clouded sky.

Her son is born on the cusp of evening, just as the sun slides behind dark, ragged peaks. He is born soft and warm and silent.

Shan Xifeng cradles him in quaking hands. Cups his cheek to her breast. His tiny head is blood-streaked like his mother. Blood-streaked like her friends and family around her.

It is an irony that on one of the most important days of her life, she is surrounded by her loved ones and yet they are all dead.

“Little one,” she murmurs, and tilts his limp head. “Little one, please.”

But he is silent as the dead around her and that grief swells again in her breast. It gnaws on her ribs and scrabbles at her throat and she is shaking shaking shaking.

“No,” she spits. “No! He has done nothing wrong! Nothing! Does he not deserve his first breath? His first cry? Does he not deserve the family that awaits him?!”

She screams into the sky and tastes blood between her teeth. “Take me instead! I beg of you! Please let him live! I would give my life! Every single one of them, so that he may live!”

Her sword quakes along with that dark raging thing within her and she clutches her dead son close.

Then—

The faint, elegant curve of a fan in the corner of her eye. The shift of cloth, the echo of a breath. The glimmering of ethereal gold and silver, like someone has spun the stars and sun above into delicate thread.

Summoned, like a beast to blood.

“All of them?”

Shan Xifeng knows better than to face an unknowable thing and so she bows as low as her broken body will allow. She stares into the bloodied dirt and breathes in dust and rasps, “Yes.”

“Hm.” A flicker of a stretching smile, coy, with a hint of sharp teeth. She does not see the fathomless dark behind those stark white teeth, a gaping void of ravenous benevolence. It is hidden behind the flare of the fan. “Do you understand what you ask for?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation.

The grin widens, lips scarlet and dark against bone-white skin. “Then I shall grant your wish.”

A shift of cloth, then a cool hand cups Nie-furen’s cheek, guiding her up. Her eyes flicker open and she sees what no mortal has ever seen, and then that fan whispers against her cheek and blood-red lips press against hers and the last thing she feels is her golden core trembling spasming dying as life is pulled from her breath- all the lives she has ever lived, the one she lives now, and every life she could have ever lived.

Shan Xifeng falls into the bloodied dirt beneath, still clutching her dead son to her breast. And then there is no one left living in that small clearing.

Pale, bony fingers trace a delicate line through the blood that lingers upon her cheek. It is still wet and useful. Stained fingers press against scarlet lips and the life held between stark white teeth is breathed anew into that blood.

Carefully, bone-thin fingers trace a deliberate character upon the newborn child’s left cheek. The blood shines, brilliant and devastating, before fading back into a gruesome name across pale skin. Slowly, the child begins to twitch, brows wrinkling in displeasure, before a high keening wail escapes tiny lips as the child take its first breath.

“Your mother does not know what she’s doomed you to.”

A day later, travelers upon the road hear a faint keening noise not far from their wagon. When they find the clearing, they gag and retch. When they find the weak, whining child clutched in his dead mother’s arms, they shake their heads and then stare at the crest emblazoned upon the woman’s clothes.

Two days after that, the child is delivered to Nie-zongzhu’s disbelieving arms.

“No,” he says, violent spirit quaking deep within him. “No. It- it is not true.”

The traveler ducks his head and clasps his hands in a bow. “I’m sorry, Zongzhu. We were not able to take the bodies with us. You’ll have to send someone to check, but…it was the crest of your house. And…” he hesitates, then nods to his companion who stumbles up and offers a sword.

Not just any sword. A dao.

Shan Xifeng’s dao.

Feng.

“No,” Nie-zongzhu cries, falling to his knees.

“I-I’m so sorry,” the traveler stutters. “I am so, so sorry, Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie-zongzhu sobs, clutching his newborn child to his chest. “Little one,” he weeps. “Oh, little one. At least life is kind enough to have spared you.”

“Yong,” the traveler blurts.

Nie-zongzhu stares uncomprehendingly, tears running hot down his cheeks.

“It- it was written upon his cheek in- in blood. I- I think that is what his mother named him. She must have done it with her dying breath. She must have wanted you to know. He did not enter this world nameless.”

“Yong,” Nie-zongzhu echoes, trembling. “It- it is a good name, for my brave little boy.” He cups his son’s cheek and sobs. “Brave like- like his mother,” he murmurs, voice thin and quaking. “She named you well.”

And perhaps it is bravery that made Shan Xifeng give up the chance to ever be reborn. Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son’s life.

But it was all a mother’s wretched love, and Shan Xifeng did not write the character for brave upon her son’s cheek.

No, it was not Yong for bravery, but Yong for eternal.

And it is not his mother who wrote it.

Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son, but is the curse of eternity really a kindness?

No, no Shan Xifeng did not truly understand what she asked for.

But Nie Yong soon would.

The next section starts with:

The second time Nie Yong dies, he doesn’t even realize it.

He is four years old.

and the third section starts with:

The third time Nie Yong dies, his Adie kills him.

He is nine years old.

It’s basically an Angst Fest with a happy ending bc...I just need a happy ending Always. I just REALLY love resurrective immortality and I love making my favourite characters Suffer :)

I hope these were fun and satisfying to read!! 

♪(ﾟ▽^*)ﾉ⌒☆

(also omg NO it’s a CURSE!!! I WISH I could just finish SOMETHING!! ANYTHING!! OMG!!! I am so envious you’ve managed to restrain yourself to a few!! Also!! I am SUPER excited to find out more about your fix-its!!! :D)