#ruined and destroyed

[kendyroy]

Logan & Wade looking at each other

(Part 2/?)

[valeriannnn]

weakest link

[astro-nomaly]

The horror of being Pigsy. Your child arrived at your doorstep naked and covered in mud, completely mute and borderline unresponsive. You have to give him a name yourself - he doesn’t have one, doesn’t remember if he ever did. You, against your and your best friends better judgement, decide to keep him. You raise him - you teach him how to make noodles and you take him to buy clothes and school supplies and Monkey King action figures. He loves you and you love him. He calls you ‘Dadsy’. You develop a employee relationship - he’s your son, but you don’t want to be too attached now that he’s an adult, even if he still lives in that same shop. Your relationship eventually develops to where you can freely refer to him as your son, not ward or employee.

He’s a demigod. He’s chaos incarnate. He’s the savior and destroyer of the universe. He holds the power of the universe, the same power you watched destroy a demon king from the inside out, in his body with ease. He has the ability to split mountains as collateral. He was made from a rock, and put in that rock by the goddess of creation for the sole purpose of one day hatching just so he could die. He is a sacrifice, and he chooses to be one to save you.

You will never be able to protect him from himself. He is your son, and you are his father, and that changes nothing.

[ruubesz-draws]

Quality time with the eldest (Earth) and the youngest (Minus One)! Whatever could go wrong??

Yet again, another cat moment for Minus One. He likes Legendary the most out of all the brothers

Goodbye, Minus One... you will be missed :'(

(Pro tip! Be careful with your belongings at the beach. You never know what might happen to it)

[theknifegirlfromdistricttwo]

Part of me wonders if Merrilee avoided the mirror after Maysilee’s death? Too afraid to see her sister’s face staring right back at her. Did she avoid the color purple? Too afraid to look any more like her sister than she had to. Did people in town continue to call her Maysilee at times before realizing their mistake? Leaving her with a stark reminder that while she’d always be a twin she was no longer a part of a pair.

[lazy-ahh]

ALMOST, BUT NEVER QUITE (pt. 2)

pairing mark grayson x gender neutral reader

a hundred almosts. a hundred times mark grayson nearly tells you—with his hands brushing yours a second too long, with his voice cracking when he says your name, with the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that makes sense in his chaotic, superhero life. but ‘almost’ doesn’t change anything. not until one quiet night, when the air between you crackles with everything unsaid, and the line between friendship and more feels thinner than ever. (or: mark and reader are disasters in love, dancing around the truth until neither can pretend anymore.)

the thing about mark grayson is that he’s almost brave.

almost.

like that time you were both sprawled on your bedroom floor, textbooks abandoned in favor of trading stupid jokes, his pinky brushing yours like it was an accident. he’d opened his mouth, the words i think i love you sitting right there, ready to spill—but then you laughed at something dumb he said, your nose scrunching up in that way that makes his chest feel too tight, and suddenly the moment was gone. he swallowed the confession down like it never happened.

almost.

or that night after a mission gone wrong, when he stumbled through your window at 3 am, suit torn, ribs aching, hands still trembling from adrenaline. you didn’t even flinch—just pulled him close, your fingers threading through his hair like you could stitch him back together with touch alone. he’d sagged against you, forehead pressed to your shoulder, breathing you in like an anchor, and for one reckless second, he thought this is it. i’m gonna tell them. but then your hands—steady, always so steady—dabbed at his split lip with a bandage, your touch feather-light, and all that came out was a hoarse "thanks," rough around the edges.

almost.

or that afternoon in the movie theater, when the flickering screen painted your face in shifting blues and golds, and he realized he hadn’t absorbed a single plot point because he was too busy counting the way your eyelashes caught the light. his fingers had twitched toward yours, his pulse a frantic drumbeat—just take their hand, you coward—but then you offered him the last piece of popcorn, your fingertips brushing his, and he chickened out. again.

almost.

or that party at eve’s, when you were both buzzed on cheap wine, your head lolling against his shoulder, his arm slung around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. the words burned in his throat—i’d kiss you right now if i wasn’t terrified of losing this—but then william wolf-whistled from across the room, and mark jerked away like he’d been caught doing something criminal.

almost.

or that lazy sunday on his couch, when you dozed off halfway through some dumb cartoon, your legs tangled with his, your breathing slow and even. he’d traced the curve of your cheekbone with his gaze, his chest so full it ached—you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me—but then you sighed in your sleep, nuzzling closer, and he swallowed the words down.

almost.

he almost tells you a hundred times.

a hundred almosts.

a hundred moments where his heart screams yes but his fear whispers not yet—when his fingers linger on your waist after lifting you away from danger, when he catches your eye across a crowded room and his smile goes soft in a way that’s just for you, when he wakes from nightmares with your name on his lips and has to bite his tongue to keep from calling you at 3am just to hear you breathe.

and the worst part? you were just as bad.

you almost told him during that late-night study session when he dozed off against your shoulder, the warm weight of him pressed along your side. in the dim glow of your desk lamp, you could see the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, the way his parted lips shaped silent words like he was still trying to argue some superhero theory in his dreams. you'd held your breath, leaning closer—just kiss him. just a tiny one on his forehead. his nose. his cheeks. anywhere. just say it—but then he nuzzled unconsciously into the curve of your neck, his sleepy exhale tickling your skin, and you panicked, shoving a pillow between you like a coward's shield.

you almost told him when he brought you your favorite coffee and snack after a rough day, the sleeve scribbled with a dumb doodle of himself as invincible (complete with a poorly drawn cape, an inside joke amongst the two of you). you’d opened your mouth—you’re the reason i smile even on bad days—but then he ruffled your hair, grinning like an idiot, and you choked on the words.

you almost told him when he bandaged your scraped knee after you tripped during one of his patrols, his calloused hands cradling your calf like something precious. the confession i’d fall a thousand times if it meant you’d catch me burned behind your teeth—but then he pressed the band-aid down with exaggerated care, muttering "there, good as new, ya klutz," and you kicked his shoulder instead, face flaming.

you almost told him when he fell asleep on your couch after a marathon gaming session, his controller still clutched in loose fingers. in the blue glow of the paused screen, you watched the way his lashes fanned over the dark circles under his eyes—always pushing himself too hard, always trying to save everyone. your thumb hovered over his cheekbone, aching to trace the bruise from last night's fight, to whisper let me take care of you too. but then he sighed in his sleep, turning his face into your palm like a sunflower chasing light, and you snatched your hand back like you'd been burned.

you almost told him a hundred times too.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

and then—

one night, when the sky was bruised with twilight and the air between you was thick with something unspoken, you turned to him and said, soft as a whisper:

"you know, vincible, if you keep looking at me like that, i might start thinking you like me."

mark’s breath caught. his pulse roared in his ears. this is it, he thought. this is the moment.

but then—

he grinned, shaky and nervous, and deflected. "pssh. you wish."

you rolled your eyes, but your voice was quieter when you replied, "yeah. maybe i do."

the words hung between you, fragile and heavy all at once.

mark’s smile faltered. did they just—?

you immediately backtracked, shoving his shoulder. "i mean—shut up. you’re insufferable."

he laughed, but it came out uneven. "you love it."

"unfortunately," you muttered, and the way your voice cracked on the word love made his stomach flip.

for a second, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, taut and electric, until mark couldn’t take it anymore.

"hey," he started, voice softer now. "if i—if i did like you. hypothetically. would that... would that be weird?"

your breath hitched. "hypothetically?"

"yeah." his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. "just. y’know. asking."

you swallowed. "no. not weird."

"good," he whispered. "that’s... good."

another silence. longer this time.

then—

"mark?"

"yeah?"

you hesitated, your fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. "if i liked you. hypothetically. would that be weird?"

his lips parted. once again, mark grayson was speechless.

"no," he finally said, voice rough. "not weird at all."

the corner of your mouth twitched. "good."

"yeah," he breathed. "good."

and maybe—just maybe—that was enough for now.

(no almost this time. but not quite finally, either.)

okay so. this one’s short—like, really short (1.1k words whoops)—but sometimes less is more, right? …right? but hey. if i happen to write a part three—hypothetically—it’ll be longer. messier. maybe even (finally) give these two dumbasses the confession they deserve. or… y’know. drag the pining out even more. maybe make them more comfortable with being more... flirtatious or direct but indirect with their feelings? who can say. (it’s me. i can say. and let’s be real, we all know i’m writing it. so sorry to everyone who looked forward to this, all the budget went to the other one-shots i'm working on right now.)

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[mia-nina-lilly]

When they judge Tamlin for saying what he said to Feyre at the HL meeting, but I would have done much worse in his place.

[aousboom]

If you can't do it alone, let me help you. I'll hold your hands and go through this with you. I'm willing to do everything for you. I'll do anything to keep us together.

YOUR SKY (2024-2025)

[bindinglove]

tamlin is objectively a good high lord and his crash out after his new and tentatively stable court was destroyed is completely understandable and i would probably do the same thing

[witchrealms]

(x)

[arsmentae]

Robin cowboy hat enjoyers rise up

[deklo]

third wheel kevin 🫶 or just kandreil 🫶 whatever you want 🫶

ref:

[uhzuku]

no bc wdym they were the last thing the other saw, heard, and felt.

[lady-raziel]

i can't do this anymore. i can't. i can;t.

[madbard]

Thinking about how nobody noticed Ford had been replaced. Sure, Stan’s a talented con-man, and sure, he would have been careful to keep them away.

But no one in town realized he wasn’t the scientist, because Ford never went into the town. His best friend chose to forget he had ever existed. His family didn’t realize he’d swapped places with his brother, which means they were either already distant before the portal incident, or they just. Looked “Ford” directly in the eye. And did not recognize him.

The child raised to believe he was only valuable because his intellect could produce money for his family, grew to be a man so singlemindedly focused on his research that he ended up completely alone.

A man who vanished into thin air, with only his estranged brother to grieve him.