#sometimes they laugh and sometimes the cry

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! #2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi x mom!reader, toji x reader, angst, family issues/trauma, absent father, implications of suicidal thoughts, talks of depression, toji is an assassin/in a gang, implications of murder, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It was a chilly Saturday morning. The birds chirped as snow fell from the sky, laying a thick blanket across the trees and ground. Megumi was still asleep while you cooked breakfast for him like you always did. His favorite being eggs, hash browns and bacon. Two weeks ago you could’ve sworn your relationship with your son was ruined, came crashing down when he found out about his father. Toji Fushiguro. Though, it only seems like the situation only brought you closer than ever. He kept asking you about him, what he was really like, how he talked, what he used to wear, did he play any sports. He asked everything. And you told him everything.

You didn’t forget one detail about Toji. From the fifteen years that he’s been gone, you still remember every detail on his face like it was just yesterday. You remember the exact clothes he was wearing the night he left and you remember the look in his eyes when he walked out the door while you pleaded for him not to go. Fifteen years and it still breaks your heart to remember. Sometimes you wished you forgotten about him. Every since then you haven’t been with anyone else. You’ve tried and failed. Went on dates, went out to clubs and bars, whatever it was, but no one was him. No one was your Toji.

Some of your high school friends live happy lives, married, nice house and car with a big family and of course the family pet. But you never got your fairytale ending. You didn’t get the easy way like everyone else. It was just you and your son the entire time and whatever hardships you endured, it was for him. After Toji left you fell into a depression. You never left the house unless it was to get groceries or other essentials, but otherwise you were cooped up. It was just you and your son. Crying yourself to sleep every night seemed like the only option you had at that time. Wasting hours trying to call Toji only for it to go straight to voicemail. You prayed he come back for you two. But he didn’t. Years and years went by and you lost hope. You believed he was dead and maybe he was.

You loved Megumi so much. Everything you did was for him, every battle fought. He was the reason you kept going. He couldn’t grow up without a mother and a father. He doesn’t know that he’s saved your life.

“Mom?” You hear your sons groggy voice as he walks into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder and laugh at the way he stands there, his hair messy and one of his eyes barely open.

“Morning, Megs. I’m just making you breakfast.” You smile. He hums in response, turning back around and dragging his feet into the bathroom. Even down to the mannerisms he acts exactly like him. You shake your head with a laugh, turning the stove off and grabbing his plate to toss the scrambled eggs on top. “Megs, your food is on the table when you’re done!” You shout. You run over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and pouring him a glass when the doorbell rings. “Hold on!”

Putting the juice away, you walk over to the door with the glass in hand. “Who is it?” You ask.

“It’s me.” A voice speaks. It almost sounds recognizable, but not. Your brows furrow while undoing the locks and when you open the door, the frigid air cuts through the warmth of your house and surrounds you.

“You must have the wrong—” As you look up, your eyes widen and the glass drops from your hair, shattering against the wooden floor. Your mouth opens to say something but not a word comes out. It was like you were stuck, frozen. Tears filled your eyes as you took in the man who was standing in front of you. “Toji…?” You utter, bringing a shaky hand up to your mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grew slightly taller, his hair shorter and you can see the slight wrinkles in his face. He was a lot more muscular too, but nonetheless he still looked like him.

“Oh my god!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Toji!” You sobbed. Being in his embrace felt so natural despite how long it’s been. He hugged you back, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed in your scent.

“Mom?! What was that?!” Megumi came rushing out the bathroom running towards where he heard the glass break. Instead, he halted in his steps when he saw the familiar face he only recently learned from photos. “Dad?”

Toji opened his eyes, his expression dropping when he saw Megumi standing there in front of him. You removed yourself from his arms, turning to see your son standing there with tears in his eyes. “Megs, it’s your dad.” You smiled, wiping your tears.

And Toji couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he was looking at a younger version of himself. But he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He knows it’s been fifteen years, but he was still expecting to see his two year old son walking towards him. Toji stepped into the house, slowly walking towards Megumi, hesitating to say or do anything until Megumi jumped into arms. “Dad!” He cried.

Toji clung to his son, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered against his hair. “Please forgive me.” He breathed. You stood there with pursed lips watching the two of them reunited, but hearing Toji’s apologies broke your heart. “I never wanted to leave you. You understand me?” Toji pulled Megumi away so that he was looking at him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ive missed you too.” Megumi nodded his head wiping his tears. “Mom told me. She told me everything. I don’t blame you, dad.” He sniffled, shaking his head. Toji looked towards you his eyes softening. It’s like you could see everything within him. All the regret, the sadness, the anger he’s been holding within him for all this time.

He stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “You still look so beautiful.” He smiled. “I never once stopped thinking about you.” He said, holding back tears. “You and Megs were always with me. I’m sorry for leaving you, baby.” He hugged you.

It was hard not to cry. You couldn’t hold in your emotions. Not anymore. Everything that you’ve been holding back was finally letting out. You missed him. You missed seeing him with Megumi. You missed his voice, his scent, his everything. “It was so hard, Toji.” You cried. “I needed you. We needed you.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “Be angry with me, do whatever you want to me. I’m just happy to have you both back.”

You could never hate him. That was never a thought in your head. You could never hate the man you love. All you could do was understand him and his pain. He was hurting just as much as you. He left to protect you and your son. “I thought you were dead.” Your voice broke through your sobs. “I thought…”

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He kissed you again. “Come here, little man.” Toji opened his arm, allowing Megumi to hug him.

Toji thought he’d never live to see this day. He began losing hope, drowning in his fears and bad choices. When he left, he remembered your cries, carrying that hurt in his heart for years. He only dug himself into a deeper hole trying to get out of it. Trying to protect you and Megs, he did unspeakable things, shit that left him traumatized. The amount of blood on his hands was staggering. But it was all just to have his family back.

That life was well behind him now. It’s been behind him for months. All this he’s been looking for you, jumping through hoops to even get a glimpse of you and Megumi. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you moved on, if you found someone else and replaced him, deciding to leave this hellish place. But you stayed. Despite everything, you stayed.

“You’ve gotten so damn big.” Toji eyes scanned over Megumi. “About as tall as me.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well, I do look exactly like you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’ve been hearing it my whole life. It’s finally nice to see the original.”

“The original, huh? I ain’t that damn old,” he scoffed.

Seeing them already get along and bicker with each other like it came naturally gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You’ve never seen Megumi’s eyes so full of life, like he found his other half. And in a sense, he did. You did as well. All of you did.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair. “A lot.”

“I know. But can you promise me one thing?” Megumi asked.

“Of course.” Toji was quick to answer.

“Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t care what it is. Promise me you’ll never leave me, dad.” Megumi nervously began biting the skin off of his bottom lip.

Toji stared at his son. “I promise.”

a/n: a lot of you wanted a part 2 so I made one. I hope it lived up to the expectations tbh cause I wasn’t really sure what y’all wanted to me to write

[tsbs-shipfessions]

New Moon used to make Solar's morning coffee every day, adding the exact amount of milk and sugar that Solar liked, in the brown and white mug that Solar likes, using a star-print coffee mug for himself. The two of them would sit and drink it together at the daycare before the children arrived and Solar had to go to his job in the theater.

They both talked about trivialities for hours, laughing at silly jokes and talking about some project they had at the moment (New Moon told him about the sentient knives, Solar laughed for hours before adding ideas to the project to make it even sillier). Sometimes they would interlace their fingers on the desk, holding their hands gently and caressing the other's hand with their thumb.

Soft glances and equally soft and sweet laughter filled both of their mornings.

And now; Solar is alone. Old Moon doesn't stop by the daycare or have coffee with him. There is no one to laugh with, make jokes with or talk to for hours. No one to hold hands. He is alone, with his coffee mug and a star-print coffee mug cooling next to him on the desk.

Anon. Anon do you want me to cry. Anon what the fuck.

[revelboo]

sometimes i think this is how some of the bots think about humans

lowkey don't know how to feel about that myself, i actually put myself in some of the human's shoes and wow it's no easy task to deal with their situation and having to keep themselves calm

That’s probably how a lot of them unconsciously view humans because of the size difference.

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 4

Scavengers x Reader

• By virtue of Swindle’s reputation as a crook, Misfire voted Crankcase to use the language file and everyone else agreed. Most likely the con wouldn’t intentionally off a customer he can scam again, but still. Now Crankcase leans over where the human is sitting on a crate, little legs dangling and heels thumping against the side, and he spouts gibberish at you. Your head comes up, eyes widening as you say something back and get to your feet. “Do you understand it?” Krok demands, right as your little shoulders slump, hands gesturing.

• When the one with the chunk out of his head starts talking and you recognize human language, you lunge to your feet. Asking if he knew your language, because while the sounds are familiar, it’s still nonsense to you. And he’s just staring back at you in incomprehension. It’s the wrong language and you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. Or scream. You’re still stuck at square one playing charades with giant, alien robots.

• “Still gibberish,” Crankcase growls, leaning back as the human goes on a rant, little hands flapping about and gesturing before you flop back down in frustration. Reaching out he nudges your shoulder with a servo and you immediately swat him. Those eyes glowering when he uses that same servo to tip your chin up. Because he gets it, to be so small and trapped somewhere? Unable to communicate? You must be terrified even if you hide it well. And that’s something he understands. What happened to him left more scars than just the chunk missing from his head. Sometimes the other Scavengers come up on his bad side and he almost swears it’s Thunderwing looming up behind him, that old nightmare digging it’s claws in.

• “Of course it is,” Krok sighs, slumping back on the bench in the cargo hold. Doesn’t even realize when he starts clicking the device in his hand because it’s become a nervous habit by this point. Whenever something goes sideways, he plays with it and now you look up at the noise and meet his optics. As he watches, you hold up your fist, thumb moving to mime him until he stops. “Signal that crook.”

• “I told you,” Misfire growls, wings flaring as he watches you stop copying Krok and look up at him. Unable to understand, but trying. Those intelligent eyes alert. As he watches, Spinister finds that stuffed animal as big as you are and pushes it firmly at you, knocking you flat on your back as you wrap your arms around it in self defense just to get him to stop. “I mean, his name is Swindle,” he mutters as he stalks off.

• Arm looped around the stuffed bear, you crane your neck to watch the one with wings stalk off. They’re obviously all unhappy and it hurts to get your hopes up only to have them crushed again. If you can’t communicate, you can’t ask to go home. You’ve tried mimicking some of the sounds they make, but they always just look at you funny. Expressions giving away that they can’t even tell you’re trying so hard. That your attempts are just nonsense to them. Anxiety lifting through you, you’re aware of the biggest one, the one that had found you and ran you down, still staring at you. He’d scared you nearly to death then, but if he hadn’t spotted you that day? You’d have probably starved on that barren world, scared and alone. He saved you whether or not he realizes it.

• “Think they really were a pet taken after the war?” Fulcrum asks as you chatter at Spinister, trying to get back up only for him to keep pushing you back over with a servo. He’d stop him, but you’re laughing instead of angry. “Why abandon them out here?” Because you haven’t been that much trouble except for the handful of times they’d accidentally poisoned you trying to keep you alive. Swindle’s food at least had been legitimate, though whatever those black and white discs are, you’d tried to devour the entire package as soon as they weren’t paying attention to you. And he’s almost positive you had been swearing at him when he had to take the package away to ration them out slowly. Like now as you manage to get away from Spinister and move as close to him as you can get, big eyes imploring as you hold out a hand. Aware of the others watching as he produces the little package and holds it out, holding up a servo of the other hand in warning. And huffing at him, you take only one instead of trying to snatch them all, reaching out as soon as you pop it in your mouth to pat his servo and mumble nonsense at him.

Previous

[wundergeek]

Excerpt from a 4K word fic of me being Very Normal About G'raha along these lines - - -

THEN

I returned, dazed, to the bottom of the lift.

Alisaie gave me a too-innocent smile. "How was your talk with the Exarch?"

Shit. She knew. Of course she knew.

I fought down a surge of panic. We'd never made what we had official - in fact, Alisaie had shut me down every time I'd tried to mention my burgeoning feelings. But she still deserved to know that I'd kissed someone else. "Alisaie, I..."

"You want to fuck the Exarch," she said, smirking.

My cheeks burned. "It's complicated," I mumbled.

Which it was. I'd kissed the Exarch, but I wasn't sure I wanted to fuck him. On the other hand, I'd wanted to fuck G'raha, but never got a chance to kiss him.

"I don't know how I feel about fucking the Exarch, but I did kiss him. And I'd like to do it again. But. I won't if you don't want me to."

To my relief, Alisaie shook her head. "No promises, remember? We could all die tomorrow, so why not chase what happiness you can today?" She rolled her eyes and punched me fondly in the arm. "Besides. Do I look foolish enough to think I can put a fence around a heart big enough to love the entire world?"

For the second time that day, profound, unutterable relief. She understood. "Thank you."

Alisaie waved her hand airily. "If you want to thank me, go get your boy."

I laughed.

- - -

NOW

The soul vessel is pulsing slowly, but G'raha is still unconscious. My magical senses tell me something seems to be happening, but it's happening a lot slower than it did with the Scions.

"Gods damn it, G'raha." I snap. "I had to watch you die, so if you haven't somehow managed to pull this rabbit out of your hat, I'm going to be... very cross with you." My voice breaks as the last comes out as a sob.

I put my head on my knees and weep.

I've cried myself out and am sitting there, trembling miserably, when G'raha finally stirs and opens his eyes. I see recognition, followed by confusion reflected in his red eyes. "Savvel?"

"G'raha!" I manage to give him a watery smile, but my heart is still in my throat. "How much do you remember?"

He blinks as he searches his memories. "I remember Elidibus," he says slowly. "And climbing the Crystal Tower and... Gods. Oh Gods, I remember turning--" I shush him as I pull him into my arms and stroke his back. He sobs and buries his face in my neck.

"I've got you, G'raha. We're in the Source. You're okay." My voice breaks, and I realize that I'm grinning like a fool and crying at the same time. "Everybody is okay."

"Everybody? ...really?"

"You're the last to wake up, on account of all the pesky security systems you've got around here."

G'raha laughs weakly, and it hits me all at once that somehow we did it. We won, and he's okay - better than okay! - he's alive, awake, and seems to have all his memories intact. My arms tighten convulsively around him and I nuzzle into his hair. "You're an idiot and I forbid you from sacrificing yourself again," I choke out. "Do you hear me?"

G'raha laughs again, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

"No." My voice is firm, the most firm, and I am definitely not giggling. "I don't accept that."

"You wouldn't."

And then G'raha's mouth is on mine. We kiss in a delicious frenzy of mouths and hands and moaning, so much moaning, and I realize that Alisaie was correct. I do want to fuck the Exarch.

Read the whole fic on AO3

G'raha, I would die for you

Okay. Replaying Shadowbringers rn and G'raha just got abducted by Emet-Selch, and this whole scene hits just as hard on the fourth play-through as it did on the first. Look at this fuckin face. This is the face of a man who loved you from a distance for A HUNDRED YEARS assuming you didn't even remember his fucking name, until you call out to him just as he's about to sacrifice his life for yours.

He's about to teleport himself into the Rift and fuckin' die, and still, that proof that you remember him, that you matter to him makes him so fucking happy.

And. Like. Take a minute to think about that.

Not only did he come up with this insane scheme to rewrite history, then actually have the brilliance to pull it off, but... he has lived MULTIPLE LIFETIMES for you, and walked into this situation anyway, fully thinking that he was going to die, and totally prepared to sacrifice more than anyone could possibly comprehend. Like - imagine living long enough to see the small community of refugees you harbored to grow into a vibrant city. Imagine being part of their lives as the first residents of the Crystarium have children, grow old, and die, even as their children are having children of their own.

Imagine an attack that happens during that second generation that kills a couple with a young child and taking her in because she has no one to care for her. Imagine taking time, despite all of your responsibilities and literally being on the clock to save the world, to raise her to be strong, loyal, and unfailingly excellent at what she does. She isn't your blood, but she's the closest thing you'll ever have to a daughter, and still you don't hesitate to leave when it's time to see your scheme through to its ultimate end - your ultimate end.

Imagine what it would have been like making those final preparations without being able to tell anyone that you were saying goodbye.

Imagine having tea with Chessamile and agreeing with her that you need to do this more often.

Imagine discussing improvements to the Crystarium with Katliss that you know you'll never see.

Imagine gossiping with Bragi and knowing you'll never get to hear how things turned out.

Imagine visiting Moren to give him a book and saying nothing as he insists that he'll return it to you when he's finished.

Imagine having lunch with Lyna, your daughter, who will find herself in charge when you're gone, and having to give her instructions about what to do in the event of your death.

Imagine having that much love in your life - an entire city that you built from the ground up, and whose residents you loved with all your heart, and who loved you just as strongly. And calmly bidding that entire life farewell as you take an amaro to Kholusia to rewrite history by saving the life of the person you love, thinking that you were nothing more than a minor footnote in their previous adventures. Then imagine finding out at the literal last second that they not only remember, but cared deeply about you the entire time, and still having the strength of will to sacrifice yourself anyway.

What an icon. What an absolute fucking legend.

[girllblogging777]

hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!

𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.

he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.

but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.

his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?

the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.

across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.

why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.

you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.

minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.

suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”

“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.

he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”

your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”

his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”

you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”

and he didn’t need to be told twice.

moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.

“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.

you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”

he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.

“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”

you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.

“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”

he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”

“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”

the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.

“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.

for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !

@redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @hisparentsgallerryy @riddlesgrl

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Prologue)

Contains: no warnings

Wordcount: ~4.12k

Masterlist of this story

96 AC

The child in her arms just wouldn't stop crying and Aemma desperately cradled her back and forth.

"Shhh my love.", she purred and kissed the babe on her forehead. "Shh, sweetling, you are fine."

The young mother was overstrained with her two children and now one of the wet nurses was sick with the fever and her sweet Maera just wouldn't stop crying. 'If only Viserys was there.', she thought.

Not that he could fix it but everything would be easier. But no, he was busy with the small council and in the evening would probably celebrate and feast in honor of his guests and Aemma would be on her own with their daughter again.

Croaked cries and shouts left Maera's throat repeatedly and her mother thoughtfully walked from her bed to the table and then back again. She had a thought in her mind. One that Viserys wouldn't approve of but it was a tempting one. Aemma sighed. She knew that she would upset her husband once he would learn of what she was about to do but it didn't really matter to her. Right now all she wanted was to calm her daughter and not listen to her complaints another second so the young mother left her chambers and found what, or better who she had been looking for in his own chambers.

Daemon Targaryen sat on a chair, his head lowered in front of a book and his hands resting on his forehead. He was highly concentrated and didn't even notice his sister by law until Maera let out another cry. Daemon lifted his head and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

"Aemma.", he said.

She walked torwards him and exhaled loudly. "Daemon, please, could you take her? The last time that you did Maera was so much more calm and content and it's just too much sometimes with Viserys being barely here and…"

The prince interrupted her by getting off the chair and nodding understandingly.

"It's alright. Of course I can take her."

He reached out to take the little babe from Aemma's arms and held her in his while slowly rocking her. She had previously still cried but only in a matter of moments did her weeping fade and soon she just sniffed in his arms. Her mother smiled relieved and let out a scoff.

"How do you do it, Daemon? Why is she at calm with you?"

In response he shrugged and didn't take his eyes off his niece.

"I don't know." He ran his thumb over her cheek to remove a tear. "You just needed your uncle, little one, mhm?"

He felt strongly protective over the little girl in his arms. The way her eyes twitched and how she grabbed his finger with the whole of her hand. She, his little niece, actually meant a lot to him and he couldn't hide the honest smile creeping up on his face. Daemon and Aemma laughed as Maera sneezed and then the queen sank down on a chair.

"Oh thank you, Daemon. You've done me a great favor. Do you mind taking her until the evening?", she asked carefully.

"Of course not, sister. She'll be safe with me."

~~~~~~~~~~

A little later Aemma entered her chambers, her daughter now in her own arms again. She had expected to be welcomed by an empty room but her husband stood in the middle of the room and had just taken a sip from his wine. Aemma raised her eyebrows and approached him to give him a kiss on his cheek.

"Husband. I thought you were occupied with feasting with the Velaryons."

"Later. I think a king should be allowed to have some time with his wife and daughter, shouldn't he?"

Aemma smiled softly and watched as Viserys took his daughter from her arms and lifted her in the air.

"I feel like she's growing every day.", he mumbled and his wife couldn't stop herself from saying her next words.

"That's because you're rarely with her and me."

The king turned to her at once, a shocked expression on his face. "What are you saying?"

Aemma crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Forgive me. It's just a lot sometimes. You know that Isyla is sick with the fever and sometimes Maera just doesn't stop crying. I don't know what to do then."

Her husband sighed and ran a hand over his daughter's head.

"I know. And I'm sorry that I can't be with you more. But I'm king and I have duties. I can't just stay in our chambers all afternoon and care for you and her."

Aemma nodded and stared at the floor. "I know. Of course I don't expect it. I just…" She didn't finish her sentence which made her husband lift one of his eyebrows.

"You just…?"

She dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes.

"Viserys… I wished you wouldn't get so mad when I give our daughter to your brother."

The king frowned. "What do you mean?", he asked sounding suspicious.

"Well… Today was especially bad. Maera cried and wept and kicked with her feet and it was so bad that I-I thought perhaps she would be more calm when Daemon holds her. And I know that you don't like it and I'm really sorry, but I came to him and from the second that he held her in his arms, Maera was quiet like a tamed kitten. It's truly magnificant, my love."

Viserys had a bitter expression on his face and his jaw was tense. And then he glared at his wife.

"You know that I don't like it."

"Yes. But I don't know why."

The king gave the babe to his wife again and walked back and forth in the room.

"Because my brother is dangerous and unpredictable. I'm meant to trust him with my only daughter?"

Aemma shook her head. "Daemon is 15. He is merely a child himself. And I can see it, he loves Maera. If you would simply open your eyes for once you could see it as well. Do you think he would, I don't know, murder his niece?"

Viserys exhaled annoyed. "No of course not. But I'm just careful, alright? I know him better than you do and I know that he can be a mess. He can do terrible things, Aemma."

She laughed out. "Not to his niece, love. Please just… Please allow me to go to him at times. It's a great relief for me to have a moment of silene. And then there is also Aegon. Sometimes I don't even have time for him when Maera is shouting all the time and I'd hate to neglect him."

Viserys was quiet for a few seconds but then chewed on his buttom lip.

"I don't like it.", he growled.

Aemma begged him with his eyes and pleadingly enclosed his hand with hers.

"Fine. But only when there is no other choice."

She quickly nodded and felt a weight dropping from her heart.

101 AC  

The wind messed up her hair but no part of her cared. She had never flown so fast, she was certain. Daemon had taken her on Caraxes so many times but never that fast.

"Wuhuuu.", she screamed and tightly held on to her uncle as he guided his dragon through the crystal clear sky. It was a hot day with the sun burning down on King's Landing but up here with the wind it was the perfect feeling.

"How about a dive, little one?", Daemon asked her turning his head to her and Maera excitedly shifted on Caraxes' back.

"Yeahhh. Please, I want to go faster."

Her uncle chuckled lightly and then pulled at the ropes to make his dragon dive down towards the blue of the sea. The sun reflecting in it became brighter the closer they flew but then just when Caraxes was about to hit the water Daemon pulled him back and they lifted into the air again. Maera screamed and her hands dug into her uncle's shoulders. "Oh gods!!!"

Thirty minutes later Maera was sulking as her unlce swang himself off his dragon's back. She had tried everything to convince Daemon to fly a little longer but he had told her that her father would be very angry if she didn't return soon and no matter how hard the girl had complained, he hadn't given in.

"I'm sorry, little one.", he had said and led Caraxes back to the dragon pit.

Now he stood on the ground and heaved Maera through the air until she was standing on her feet on the muddy ground.

"I don't want to go back, uncle. Everything is so stupid here and on Caraxes it's so nice."

She had taken the sleeve of her uncle's tunic and pulled at it while her mouth still formed a pout. In response Daemon grabbed her under her arms and lifted her. He carried her towards the red keep while the frown on her face didn't vanish and Maera sucked on her thumb, just like she had always done when she was upset or sad.

"We can take another ride on Caraxes soon, sweet niece. But now it's time for supper and then bed."

"I'm not hungry. And I'm not tired.", she answered. Daemon sighed.

"You're a stubborn little thing. I promise you, we can go again tomorrow."

Maera's face softened a little and she put the hair out of her face. "Will you play with me later? Please uncle, it's no fun with Aegon, he always steals my toys saying I have the better ones."

Daemon smirked while walking the two of them up the stairs to the throne room.

"Yes, love, I will. But don't forget your high valyrian lessons. We'll make it an hour but if you behave very well maybe 45 minutes will be enough."

His niece nodded eagerly and rested her head on Daemon's shoulder. "Sȳz." (Fine), she smiled proudly which made her uncle smile as well.

"Olvie sȳz." (Very good)

~~~~~~~~~~

"Se zaldrīzes zāle…."

"Zalagon.", corrected Daemon.

"Zalagon.", Maera repeated. "Oh uncle, please. I don't want to anymore. I don't want to learn it and I don't want to learn about stupid history with septa Julvra and how to hold my stupid fork."

Maera sat on his lap but relentlessly shifted because she had grown tired of this and rather wanted to play with him.

"You have to, niece. You have to learn the language of your ancestors and you have to learn these kinds of things so one day you'll be a noblewoman of court and can marry a noble man."

The girl pouted at him and poked her uncle in his cheek.

"I want to marry you, uncle. Not a stupid lord."

He chuckled quietly and stroke her hair back but then turned her head towards the book opened in front of them on the table.

"Read, little one. You know that word already."

But Maera was tired and annoyed and shook her head. "Please uncle. Please, can we play now?"

Daemon sighed deeply and gently grabbed her shoulders. "Three more sentences, alright? Then we can play."

She giggled excitedly and read the following words with a new determination.

108 AC

Maera turned her head from one side to the other, humming some familiar melody to herself while feeling the sun tingling on her skin. She loved that feeling and then stretched her body with relish.

She still had her eyes closed when she heard the door open and someone enter her chambers. Only when the steps had stopped in front of her did the girl slowly open her eyes and recognized her handmaiden in front of her.

"Princess. Your lord father demands your presence in his rooms."

Maera yawned open-mouthed. "Mhmm."

But she obeyed and drunk on sleep got off her bed. She let her maids brush and braid her hair, put on a light gown and then followed her handmaiden down to her father's chambers.

Once inside she sat down on a chair while watching Viserys write something on a piece of parchment. She boringly dangled her legs waiting for him to finally tell her why he had asked her to come to speak to him and then he finally put down the quill and gave her his attention.

"Daughter. I wish to speak to you about your brother's upcoming name day."

"What of it?"

The king smiled kindly. "I want to know what you think Aegon likes more. Chocolate cake or lemon cake?"

Maera smiled widely. "Lemon cake. Definitely."

Her father chuckled. "Are you sure? Or are just saying this because it is what you prefer?" She giggled but shook her head.

"No. Aegon prefers it as well. I know it."

Viserys remained suspicious but nodded while tidying up his desk. "I shall believe you then. What are your plans for today, daughter?"

The girl thoughfully put her finger to her lips.

"Mhmm, I want to go to the gardens to pluck some strawberries. Septa Julvra told me I am to wait until the summer so they are ripe and sweet and I think it's time now."

Her father nodded. "That sounds lovely. Take your brother with you, please. I think he needs a bit of sun."

But Maera rolled her eyes. "He would not come with me anyway. He's only ever interested in studying his books and he always ignores me."

"He's 15. I think every boy and girl is a little reserved at that age."

Viserys stood up and walked to a shelf nearby. While sorting some letters he turned his head to talk to his daughter.

"You can go to the gardens but only…. If you'll bring me some of those delicious strawberries as well."

Maera smiled and took it as her sign to stand up and leave to follow her plans.

~~~~~~~~~~

One by one did Maera take the strawberries and let them fall into her basket. She couldn't help but almost accidentally let one slip into her mouth now and then because they just tasted too good in her mouth.

It was a warm morning and she knew it would be an even warmer midday so she was determined to do this before noon so she wouldn't melt in the sun. Suddenly Maera heard a noise behind her and when she turned around it was Daemon who observed her smugly.

"Uncle.", she said excitedly and handed him a strawberry she had just cut down. He took the fruit and ate it.

"Thank you, niece."

Maera then went back to plucking the strawberries from the bush while Daemon leaned against a tree, closed his eyes and let the sun shine on his skin.

"A beautiful morning. It's summer now."

The girl nodded. "Yes. Septa Julvra told me to wait until the summer with plucking the strawberries." Her back faced her uncle so she couldn't see the smirk on his face.

"I didn't know you liked strawberries, little niece. Remember how much you cried two years ago when the servants prepared the most amazing strawberry cake for your name day? You wouldn't stop until they brought it away from your view."

She felt her skin getting warm and was glad that Daemon couldn't see it.

"Taste can change.", she breathed and her uncle chuckled lightly.

And then Maera was done because her basket was so full that the strawberries on top threatened to fall down. It was good timing because it was almost time for lunch and so Daemon and his niece started to make their way back. He saw how Maera struggled to hold the heavy basket so without a word he took it from her hand and carried it himself.

"Go to your chambers and change before the meal. Your hair is messy and the hem of your dress is dirty."

The girl sighed and frowned. "I'll do it afterwards. Or in the evening. I'll go outside today again anyway. It's redundant."

Daemon glared at her and raised his eyebrows. "No. You'll do as I say, little one and go change now. It's inproper to show up in the dining room like that."

Maera lowered her gaze and nodded. Of course she would obey him. Only recently had she learned about it in her lessons with septa Julvra. A wife was to obey and listen to her husband. She was to please him and do as he commands. And though Daemon wasn't Maera's husband, she still had taken these words to heart. She wanted to obey and please Daemon the way a wife pleased her husband. She wanted to follow his commands and make him happy by being obedient.

And that's why Maera intended to always listen to him and do exactly as he wanted. It was her little game inside of her head. Sometimes she imagined that he was in fact her husband and she his loyal and good wife. And so along with her imagination Maera did everything Daemon asked her to, she studied when he told her to, brought him something from his chambers when they were together in the dining room, held her fork differently when he said that her manners were bad and went to brush her hair when he said that it didn't look lady like. Just the way a wife would do for her husband.

109 AC

"I hate you!! You are so mean and unfair and you always put Aegon before me.", Maera screamed on the edge of breaking down in tears which made her father shake his head in disappointment.

"I don't put your brother before you! But he is the heir to the iron throne, daughter and so it is important that he comes with me on this process."

Her eyes flashed and spit fire as she clenched her hands in fists.

"You don't care about me at all only because I'm not your heir. I hate you. I wanted to come with you on your travels and now I have to rot in the keep for two months while Aegon gets to see so much. I hate you!!"

With these words Maera stormed out of her father's chambers without waiting for his permit to leave but she couldn't care less. The tears rolled down her cheeks now and they veiled her view so much that she didn't even see where she was going. Her blood was boiling inside of her veins and she had to fight the urge to hit something but then someone approached her from behind with quick steps. Maera turned around and before realizing who it was the person had wrapped his arms around her back and held her to his chest.

She realized who it was at once. His familiar sent and the way that he felt made her sniff and Maera's hands enclosed around the fabric of Daemon's shirt. He soothingly caressed her hair and her back until her crying was more quiet and then all the tears had spilled out and there was nothing left. Maera hiccuped and sniffed and crouched her head against his strong chest.

"He's s-so mean.", she whined. "He promised me that I would go w-with them b-but now I have t-to stay here while Aegon g-goes with him alone."

Daemon's hand was buried in her hair and his thumb stroke her head.

"Shhh, little one. It's gonna be fine."

"No it's not!", she claimed angrily which made Daemon abruptly take hold of her shoulders and he held her a little away from him.

"Calm yourself. I'm not the reason for your anger.", he said with lifted eyebrows and Maera dropped her gaze ashamed.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Her uncle caressed her shoulders softly. "You know that I will stay in the capital as well?"

The girl widened her eyes. "Really?"

Daemon smirked. "Yeah. I decided it days ago. I told my brother that what I needed is some time to rest in my home."

Suddenly everything felt so much lighter and easier and Maera didn't feel anywhere close to crying anymore.

"You'll stay here as well?", she asked again only to make sure that she hadn't understood it wrongly.

Her uncle chuckled. "Yes, I will."

She rushed to throw herself in his arms once again only that this time she was happy and relieved and didn't seek comfort.

"Can we go on a trip on Caraxes, uncle? Please." But unfortunately Daemon shook his head.

"You know that you have to attend your lessons, sweetling. Septa Julvra is probably already waiting for you in the library."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Can't I skip it for once?"

Her uncle furrowed and looked strict. "No, you can not. Don't disobey me, Maera."

She gulped but nodded. Unconsciously she brought her thumb to her mouth and started to nibble and bit at her nail which made Daemon exhaled deeply and reach out to grab her hand.

"I told you a hundred times that you are not to nibble at your nails."

Maera looked up to her uncle with big eyes.

"I'm sorry, uncle. I know that you've told me before. I'll stop it from now on, I promise." He looked content now which gave her relief.

"Good. And perhaps I can read you from your favourite book later. After your lessons with your septa."

And then a little later Maera sat by the fire place clutching the book in her hands. She was already scared that her uncle had forgotten her but her worries were unecessary. The door opened and he walked in with a croaked smile on his face.

"Hello, little one."

Maera smiled happily and watched as Daemon sat down in one of the big comfortable chairs and then he tapped on his thigh.

"Come here. I'll read you."

But the girl hesitated, remembering what her septa had told her recently. Daemon noticed her doubt and frowned.

"What is it, girl?"

But Maera was ashamed and felt the blood rising in her cheek and thought it to be more comfortable to look down to her lap instead of her uncle.

"Maera. Come here and tell me what is bothering you. Are you angry with me?"

She quickly shook her head but did as he had told her and slowly walked towards him though her eyes were still fixed on the ground.

"Julvra told me that… that I wasn't allowed to sit on your lap anymore.", Maera breathed at last which made Daemon chuckle quietly.

"Mhmm… And why is that?" She slightly raised her gaze and glared at him with big eyes.

"She… She said that… That I'm a woman now. Because I... I have bled. And that it isn't proper f-for a woman to sit on a man's lap."

Her uncle sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair while watching the flushness on his niece's cheek.

So she was a woman now. A grown woman in a marriagable age. How interesting.

111 AC

Maera's lower lip slightly trembled as she watched her uncle hug her father.

"Take care, brother. I know you'll do well."

Then he was done and his eyes wondered to her. It was her turn now. Why did it have to be her turn? She felt how her eyes got teary and tried everything to surpress them but Maera was almost certain that Daemon noticed them.

"Don't be sad, little niece.", he whispered and then wrapped his arms around her shoulder to pull her towards him. The girl gripped his tunic at his back and tightly held on to him as though she could make him stay that way. She felt a tear run down her cheek but luckily her face was pressed again his chest so no one could see it.

"It's so unfair.", Maera whispered and didn't even know whether these words were directed to her uncle or herself or even her father. Daemon was the one answering though.

"I won't be away forever. Don't forget me, little one.", he added which almost made her sob.

How could she ever forget him? Maera didn't even know how she would be able to spend her time while her uncle was gone.

"Please come back soon, uncle. Please."

He didn't answer to that but gently pulled away from her to watch her with a smirk on his face. Daemon ran his thumb over her cheek just for a brief moment and then turned around to approach Caraxes.

"Goodbye, Daemon.", Viserys said.

Maera wanted to do something, shout at him to make him stay, shake her father and convince him not to send Daemon away but she couldn't.

She was frozen and then it was already too late because her uncle had flown away and became more little with every second until all he was in front of her eyes was a dot, small like an insect.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss

[cosmerelists]

Pros and Cons of Inviting Cosmere Shards to your Next Boardgame Night

So you want to invite a fragment of Adonalsium to your next boardgame night? You do you, but here are some pros & cons you might want to consider first.

1. Autonomy [Taldain; White Sand]

Pros: If you're good, Autonomy will respect you. You actually managed to complete the coast to coast railroad in Ticket to Ride? Autonomy is giving that a fist bump.

Cons: If you are bad at your chosen game, or even if you just have a bad night, Autonomy may simply kill you.

2. Preservation [Scadrial; Mistborn]

Cons: Preservation HATES it when the game progresses. You've been playing Risk for three hours now, and Preservation is still trying to get it to look like it did at setup. He's crying.

Pros: Preservation doesn't mind losing. He kinda likes it if his score stays at 0.

3. Ruin [Scadrial; Mistborn]

Pros: Ruin is not a bad loser either.

Cons: In fact, Ruin hopes that EVERYONE will lose. He's mainly in it to see everything burn. Do NOT play Pandemic with Ruin.

4. Harmony [Scadrial; Mistborn]

Cons: You are SO SURE that Harmony is trying to manipulate how you play.

Pros: H-He just put down a Scrabble word that can be pluralized one square away from the triple word score tile--is he trying to manipulate you into winning?! Does he want the game to be easy for you??

5. Honor [Roshar; Stormlight]

Pros: He will DEFINITELY not cheat.

Cons: He's just...a bit of a windbag, you know? He tells like the same six stories over and over again and always looks at you like he thinks he's changing your life. It's like--it's been your turn for five minutes now!

6. Dominion [Sel; Elantris]

Cons: Ugh, Dominion is the WORST winner. Laughing, mocking you, rubbing your face in it... It's like, cool it. We are playing Settlers of Catan.

Pros: ...It's actually very satisfying to beat her, especially at the card-building guide Dominion. Heh heh. Heheheheh.

7. Devotion [Sel; Elantris]

Pros: Devotion has a whole library of fun co-op games where everyone wins! It's delightful!

Cons: Just once you wish you could play a competitive game. With winners and losers. But you just can't take Devotion's round, moist eyes when you suggest it.

8. Endowment [Nalthis; Warbreaker]

Cons: It's not too bad of a con, really, but she is REALLY particular about what piece color she gets.

Pros: She always brings snacks! And she never asks for anyone else to take their turn or anything; she just likes to bring stuff!

9. Cultivation [Roshar; Stormlight]

Pros: You swear that playing with Cultivation has made you a better player. Yes, she kicks your butt at Checkers repeatedly, but she also seems to want you to get better at the game. It's kind of sweet.

Cons: You just wish she could be more...normal about win conditions. "Winner gets to pick the takeout place!" Normal! "And winner also has to pour a glass of water over their head!" Now it's weird.

10. Virtuosity [Komashi; Yumi and the Nightmare Painter]

Cons: Sometimes you like a game, and you'd like to try it again. But Virtuosity always pooh-poohs that idea. She only likes to try new games.

Pros: She's always really taken with the art on the game box. It's kinda sweet.

11. Odium, Rayse vessel [Roshar; Stormlight]

Pros: Odium understands and adheres to the spirit of the game, and he doesn't take it personally. When you block his Draw 2 with a Draw 2 of your own, he just shakes his head and comments that it's his own fault for agreeing to house rules.

Cons: Whenever someone loses, Odium insists that they be banned from game night forever. Sometimes you catch a cold look in his eye, like he intends to be the only boardgame player left at the end of this...but that would be crazy, right??

12. Odium, [spoilers-for-Rhythm-of-War] vessel [Roshar, Stormlight]

Cons: You thought you were playing by house rules Monopoly, you know, like everyone does, when all of the sudden Odium stops your brother from loaning you some money by calmly pointing out that it isn't allowed in the official rules. Suddenly you see that he has the Official Rule Book in hand. Many pages are earmarked. A chill comes over you.

Pros: Well, you agreed that if the Monopoly game lasted longer than two hours, then whoever was up at that point would simply win. S-So, at least there's an end in sight? Why are you so scared though??

13. Ambition [Threnody; Shadows for Silence]

Pros: Whenever someone gets eliminated from your weekly poker game because they run out of chips, Ambition insists that they stay at the table and continue having a role in the game. How sweet!

Cons: ...is what you would say, if the role weren't sitting there in silence, watching for any rule-breaking (like card counting or collusion). Ambition always says that the punishment for rule-breaking is...death. You know she's kidding.

You think she's kidding.

You might stop inviting her.

[doctorbarontsct]

Marius shrugged, trying as much as he can to seem normal. The fact that he wasn’t yelling at Von Raum at the moment or attacking him because he’d fucking said not to talk to him? Might have been considered a good sign, on the one hand.

On the other, Marius knew it was just because he felt so cold, and tired, and ready to stop. What would fighting his counterpart even do right now?

“My Lyf’s not immortal,” he said quietly. “The one time they came back— bargain with a god. Not your Yog’Sothoth. Not going to say it’s full name, just in case. Teppy.”

Fuck, Lyf would have probably explained this whole story better. They’d have glanced over at him, laughed a little, and gone that’s not it at all, didn’t I tell you—

Lyf wasn’t here.

“Teppy keeps its deals, but does so in the most annoying way possible,” Marius said, closing his eyes. Maybe— maybe Lyf had made another deal, no matter how bad the conditions would be. “So, Lyf wanting to live? Fine. They were stuck in a nightmare labyrinth for three months, could only sometimes remember anyone in the process, and the idea was they had to find their own way out.”

Huh, oddly quiet here, wasn’t it?

“Was actual nightmares, though, so. . . got to see them in my dreams, a few times,” Marius said. “They remembered me, sometimes. Remembered liking me, remembered hating me. . . Stabbed me once, too, which. . .”

He decided not to finish that sentence. The mechanisms back home typically didn’t enjoy hearing how hot he found it when Lyf stabbed people (including him). These ones probably wouldn’t enjoy either that or him breaking down crying because he just wanted them to stab him again.

“Just hope they’re not in there again,” Marius said finally. “Getting them out was a whole different. . . I don’t think I could take the train experience again. But I would, if that meant they were okay in the end.”

https://www.tumblr.com/doctorbarontsct/765335072373178368/when-marius-sees-the-flash-of-rainbow-hair-out-of?source=share

"Someone took away your Jonny's harmonics privileges. They can't figure out where I keep finding mine, so they can't take away mine," Jonny said as he played on.

"Jonny," Brian said finally. "Cut the shit before I tell Raphaella to take your brain out and put you in a jar until it grows back. Again. Marius is very obviously not well, and you're picking a fight with him. Please, love." He sighed, looking over Marius once again. "Okay. So, it's been a few weeks since you could last move your arm. This slug is likely what's preventing you from being able to move it, and we don't want to do anything until we have somewhere to safely put it."

Tim hummed. "Jar could work. I'm just saying we should think about putting in the jar."

"You just want to give it to Raphaella so she stops pouting her science projects dying," Jonny grumbled.

Tim just smiled. "Is that so wrong?"

[ @allthesemechanismsbutnocoping ]

"That's about it, I think?" Marius said. He willfully doesn't think about the amount of food he's had over the last few weeks. Or sleep. Or the toe thing, or the mines, or the fact that his other arm is still not working, or the number of things he didn't even mention on Tumblr because he thought this universe's Lyf would have a heart attack.

It's not like that lightning strike did any permanent damage anyway.

"But yeah, somewhere to put it safely, and we're sure taking it out won't make things worse," he added, because that seemed like a very important point he'd made, and he didn't want anyone forgetting that one.

[kingdomaddiction]

So what if when SQH arrived to PIDW he was fragmented into three different people?

1. He wakes up after he thinks is the end. He’s a young, beautiful woman. And apparently she’s a cultivator? Su Xiyan, they call her. She realizes she’s in her damn story playing the role of a character that’s meant to die. She hates it and tries really hard to change history but it’s useless. No matter how hard she tries she can’t get the palace master off her ass. Really, that dude is a creep.

She tries to run away but here’s something invisible keeping her there, spoiling all of her plans. It’s infuriating. So, she decides just not to play along. Ignore the plot.

Suddenly she meets a demon. They fall in love and it’s inevitable.

It’s doom. She knows what will happen to her, to him (her silly, lovely demon Lord, it’s hard not to love him— she never stood a chance), to her unborn child.

She cries and begs and screams but she’s imprisoned. Punished for loving the “wrong” man.

It’s hard to remember but she manages to scape. Her last memories are Luo Binghe’s cries. It’s cold, oh so cold, and she hates herself for writing something so sad and depressing.

2. He’s a child again. Not sure how that’s possible, but he’s living and breathing. Shang Lei is pretty sure he died in a very pathetic and pitiful way.

For a long time he thinks it’s just a dream. But the hunger and pain feel real.

Shang Lei finds out he’s living in the PIDW universe when a cultivator visits the town talking about the recruitment for Cang Qiong Sect. He wants to laugh and cry and run the other way but then a blue screen pops up scaring the shit out of him.

A system, he has a system. Now he understands this second life is not for him to enjoy, but to fix his own story (excuse you??? Fix???).

He’s forced to join the sect, to join An Ding, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realice he’s Shang Qinghua, the cannon fodder.

It’s depressing and anxiety inducing but he has no other option but to obey the cruel system.

He meets Mobei and he swears it’s love at first sight. Obviously he promises to follow him forever —the system intervention is not needed.

Years passes, he becomes head disciple. It’s hard, unpleasant work. He hates it with all his gut. But the system needs him to be a Peak Lord, so Shang Lei becomes Shang Qinghua.

He’s nervous, Binghe’s birth is near. He knows it, he has been keeping track.

And one day… it happens.

His head feels like it’s been split open. He screams and everything turns black.

When he wakes up he’s at Qian Cao infirmary. Mu Qingfang is trying to talk to him, her?, but he’s overwhelmed by the memories flashing in front of him.

It hurst so much, physically and emotionally.

The system is apologizing to him (a first, really,) talking about a glitch and diving his soul. Qinghua is not listening, he can barely breathe. All he can think of is his baby and her darling husband now imprisoned under a mountain.

Before he can think of running of there and look for Luo Binghe (he’s just baby— he needs me! ) the system warns him.

He’s not allowed to find him. He’s not allowed to save him.

Mu Qingfang witnesses the worst second case of Qi deviation he has ever seen in his life.

3.

He wakes up. She’s a woman, an old woman. Her body hurts from hunger, cold, and age.

It must be a dream, she thinks. But when she wakes up the next day, and the next, and she’s here. Shang Lei has to accept his reality.

He died, and instead of just… dissolving or some shit, now he’s an old woman (really, what the fuck?) with no name, no family, and no money in a xianxia universe.

It’s shitty, really shitty.

She tries to… adjust. It’s not easy and the people of this town is extremely cruel. She still manages to find a job as a washerwoman. It’s hard on her because of her age and the seemingly eternal cold of this cursed town, but it gives her enough to buy food so she tries not to complain much.

The loneliness is the issue. Sometimes is too much to handle. She cries and begs the gods to send her someone, anyone, just to stop feeling so lonely.

And then it happens.

A cold morning, a river, a child.

She jumps into the water ignoring the freezing temperature and fights against the current. She almost drowns but it’s worth it. Because now she’s holding in her arms the most beautiful and adorable baby boy she has ever seen in her life.

Her heart feels so full. A child, her child.

There’s no doubt in her heart. This child is hers.

“Luo Binghe,” she says and laughs. It’s silly, her own little private joke to name her child like her protagonist, but isn’t it a nice coincidence?

He, like her protagonist, was floating down the river in the coldest day of the year and was found by a washerwoman.

A washerwoman just like her.

A washwoman…

A baby…

A river…

.

.

.

Huh.

… no matter, she raises Binghe. He’s such a polite, lovely child. Her perfect little gentleman. She tries to teach him about love and kindness, even when the townspeople are cruel and mean Binghe needs to be good!

He’s so smart and grows so fast it makes her proud. But she’s afraid, she can feel her body becoming weaker and weaker with each passing day.

It’s just her and Binghe, no one else. If she dies he’ll be alone.

Her sweet boy tries to help, and when she inevitably falls ill he works hard to put food on the table for both of them.

Sometimes he arrives dirty, his eyes filled with tears and bruises on his face. He always gives her a warm, big smile when he sees her and her heart aches.

Her time is coming, she knows. And she begs him to be good, to be kind even when it’s pointless. She no longer tries to deny it, Shang Lei is aware in which universe they are living.

The last thing she sees are the eyes of her beautiful child filled with tears begging her not to leave him.

4. SQH wakes up in QC again. He’s numb and Mu-shidi looks alarmed, he seems discussing his state with the sect leader (what is he doing here?)

The memories of Luo Binghe’s mother, his/hers, fills him with both warmth and sadness.

She raised him, she managed to raise her son. Even if she didn’t know she birthed him, she loved Luo Binghe as her own and did her best to give him a home.

But now he’s alone… and Shang Qinghua can’t reach him. Because the system is stopping him, threatening to hurt him or his son if he dares not to follow the script.

It’s so unfair and twisted, he wants to cry. But he can’t fight so he’s forced to watch his son grow from far away… Abused, beaten, and punished.

He despises SQQ and plans on killing him. But then he has a Qi deviation so strong his whole personality changes and suddenly his son is finally treated with respect and love and Binghe seems to adore his new Shizun (maybe a little too much??? Young man! That man is way too old for you!!!!)

Life is good, for a while.

Binghe is thrown into the abyss, he finds out SQQ is a transmigrator (but unlike him he wasn’t split), they form and alliance and so much shit happens that his story is no longer his.

It’s different, good. Binghe is happy, his old lover is free (still as handsome as the day they met), Mobei has promised to threat him better (i love you, do you love me, my king?) and he has no system to worry about anymore.

… But he stares at Binghe sometimes. Yearning for him. To hold him and kiss his forehead and she used to do when he was a child.

Unfortunately it’s not possible. Binghe hates him (please I beg you, the system forced me, —) and sees him as nothing more than a rat.

He tries his best to pretend it doesn’t hurt, but whenever LBG insults him he locks himself up in his rooms and cries. He could tell him the truth since the system seems to be gone but Shang Qinhua is paralyzed with fear. He knows he wont be able to survive Binghe’s rejection. So, SQH lowers his head and takes it no matter how vicious Binghe’s comments get when his cucumber-bro is not around.

.

// ran out of ideas—

I haven’t decided how but ???? Maybe one day SQH talks with Tianlang-Jun and the demon is reminded of a beautiful cultivator of his past and is instantly captivated. He follows him around much to Mobei and all the other demons dismay. It makes Binghe uncomfortable because that man is his father, why is acting like with SQH of all people?

(Mobei and Tianlang-jun fighting for SQH’s attention— him earning a reputation for having the former emperor and the second strongest demon in all the realm after him. SQH remains oblivious to it, thinking they are just being nice)

(SQQ: airplane this is so fucking dumb what kind of extras are these????)

(Binghe gets… suspicious. Tries to get closer to SQH to investigate— is this a plot to usurp the throne? What’s so special about him?

SQH is just glad his son is paying positive attention to him! No insults, no mean comments! Is he doing something right? He wont question it—

• SQQ jealous shenanigans.

• SQH slipping and using his other life knowledge to spoil LBG.

LBG: ????? Wtf???? How does he know i like this? Why— how? Is he stalking me?

SQH: I made this dish for Jungshang—

//tastes just like his mother’s cooking.//

LBG: *cries*

• TLJ and MBJ temporary truce. They can’t lose SQH to LBG.

• SQQ still losing his shit: wtf you hack author this is my husband!

• SQH and Binghe bonding, very wholesome, very cutesy. Binghe is really conflicted but this… it feels familiar. And… Shang-shishu smells like his mother???? Oh, he’s crying again.

Yeah, that the idea I hve so far idk feel free to use it or add anything I’ll go have breakfast now 👍🏽

[starfxkrinc]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭

you hated when rafe came over, it was like you weren't there as him and barry settled into a language you didn't understand, as tense and uneasy as it could be.

barry blamed you, told you to stop being so fuckin quiet and speak when he had company but rafe made you sick. he was pathetic, always whining and crying for barry to fix it. you didn't need barry to fix shit, but the second rafe came blubbering about a problem barry was off to his rescue.

he'd fuss and cuss sure, but you didn't miss how rafe looked, soft and open and trembling like a baby deer.

if you could, you'd gut rafe nose to navel.

mocking him is just as effective.

"you good over there baby boy?"

rafe's whole body stiffens, he flushes bright pink and you know you got him. rafe didn't know you knew about that. rafe also doesn't know that sometimes barry slips and calls you that too.

"leave him alone, i don't feel like dealin with yalls shit aight?"

barry sounds bored of the whole ordeal already, and that makes you more upset. for once you want him to give a fuck about you while rafe is there.

getting up from your spot on the couch, you feign nonchalance as you sit on the arm rest, looking down at rafe like he's beneath you for once. forcing him to come face to face with his dirty little secrets. barry's not all that quiet anyways.

so, you ignore him, "y'know you're real pretty rafe, so it's fine if you can't get it up," you poke at rafe, tugging the collar of his shirt to look down at his hard nipples, practically slamming your foot in your lap to feel him chub up beneath your sole. he's shaking so much you don't know if he'll hit you or jet away, "yeah you're real pretty rafe. pretty like a girl. you get wet like one too."

when barry punches the side of your head your ears ring. before you know it you're sprawled on the ground, dizzy and disoriented as your brain tries to reconnect with your limbs. but barry just kicks you back down, pressing your face into the dirty floor with his boot all hard and unyielding like he could crush your skull just like that.

"what'd i fuckin say?" barrys practically spitting, you can barely see him over his shoe but it the pressure of him threatens to pop your head like a grape and you whimper, "yeah that don't feel good do it? cut this shit out, i got work to do and i don't need your little ass startin shit."

with another painful step he pushes off you, walking back inside to his room, "now say your sorry and shut the fuck up."

it doesn't actually matter if you're sorry or not. barry's just fine to leave you two be for the time being.

all you do is lay there wheezing, tears streaming down your face and blood dripping down your nose when you turn to look at rafe and you see the damp patch on his crotch.

painfully, you laugh, "did you just squirt in your pants you fuckin loser?"

[changingplumbob]

Layla: I brought some food

Art: *smiling* You did?

Layla: Yeah, this is a date right? Come on

I walked us over to the edge of a small pond and got started setting up on the ground when I noticed him looking worried.

Layla: Are you okay

Art: I really don't want to ruin your romantic plans but could we sit at the picnic table? It's a bit hard for me to get up and down from the ground without furniture to lean on

I assured him it was no problem and moved the basket to the nearby table. Art laughed when I produced the spooky cookies and happily grabbed a plate.

Art: I did say I would eat anything you offered

Layla: Trust me, I remember. I feel bad I didn’t do anything overly Halloween with you

Art: Layla you were focussed on giving your kids a good time and finishing the latest book. I read it by the way, did you hear me crying through the wall? Can you autograph it sometime? I can pay you in kisses

Layla: *laughing* Okay I know it was tragic but I do feel bad about making you cry

Art: Never feel bad about being a good writer Layla, never

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hi sorry to ask this because I know it’s probably very weird. But I’m in my late 20s and have terrible dysphoria. I can’t medically transition because it could interact with some of my disabilities in some truly horrific ways. I feel like I’ve missed out so much and that I’m not even a man and I’m not taken seriously by anyone in my life. Trying to bolster myself is draining sometimes lol So, if it’s okay, can you just say “good job, man” or something? Sorry, don’t wanna take up your time, have a lovely weekend!

The limitations of our bodies can be cruel sometimes, and I hope you can find other vehicles for gender affirmation, be they hobbies, wardrobe, etc.

I'll take you seriously and I'm sure there's many others online and offline as well. And you're doing well, sir, so very well. And I'm sure there's a disabled trans kid right now looking up to you, to see a man like yourself who made it all the way to his late 20s so far, and this kid now thinks he can, too, just like you.

You've got a bigger burden than most of us to bear, just promise me that you won't bottle it up like many men do and go the silent suffering route - tumblr is a great place to have a little scream or a little cry and hopefully a little laugh and recharge for the next day. 🫂

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you and Skye try to relearn how to be friends again, you realise it’s harder than you thought.

warning/s: mentions of injury, substance abuse, poor mental health and basically everything Skye goes through oof.

author's note: here’s part 2! so sorry it was delayed, i’ve been stuffed with cold for the past few days so didn’t have chance to share it. Hope this makes up for it anyway :)

"...and I'm just outside your building now," I said to Skye over the phone, lingering outside.

"I was just about to call," she said in a rushed voice, sounding apologetic. "I'm running late, but I'm almost there. Give or take ten minutes. You can head straight up. The doorman knows to let you in and the spare key is in the same place as always."

I hesitated at her response.

It wasn't a big deal, I'd been to her apartment many times, but it had also been a year since I'd last been and it felt strange to go up alone. Especially because I was just supposed to be meeting her to go out, not actually going inside.

"Oh, I can just wait outside, it's okay," I said, maybe a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to notice.

"No, it's fine, you head up, I'll be with you soon," she assured me, before I heard a sound in the background. "I gotta go. See you in ten!"

I chewed my lip before putting my phone away and heading straight inside. As Skye said, the doorman recognised me and let me straight up, and it felt odd. The last time I'd been in the lift, I was crying on the way down from that awful argument between Skye and I. I hadn't been back since – I'd had no need to. But now...

It wasn't the same, I had to remind myself of that. She wasn't the same. None of this was.

Over the past few weeks, we'd somewhat returned to how things used to be, but it was all baby steps. Being each other's friend was second nature, and yet moments like this sometimes had me stumbling in the dark.

I found her door at the end of the hall, digging out the spare key from behind the framed painting next to it. A stupid place to keep it I'd always thought, but the whole place was guarded anyway so it didn't matter.

After opening the door, I returned the key to its spot before letting myself in. Everything looked the same as I last remembered it, and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I'd missed it. I still remembered when she bought it and moved in, after her career picked up overnight. We'd had countless movie nights here, sleepovers that lasted days sometimes, and it just brought back so many memories. Good, as well as bad, but I tried not to focus on the latter.

I began to walk around aimlessly, waiting for her to return, eyeing the cabinet full of awards, the framed albums, admiring the penthouse view from her living room, and then I came across some framed photos hung on the wall. Some were of her and her mum when she was a kid, others were as she grew up, and then I spotted a familiar one.

It was a photo of Skye performing her first ever single on her first ever TV appearance years ago, and it was a photo taken by me, one of my first professional gigs as a photographer. A small smile tugged at my lips, realising she hadn't taken it down. I was touched that she kept it.

The door opening made me glance away and see Skye rushing in, looking a bit dishevelled. When she spotted me, she smiled with relief.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to run late," she said as she closed the door behind her.

"It's fine," I said dismissively, before joking, "You know, you're a little too trustworthy. It's been a year. I totally could have come up here and, like, I don't know, robbed you or something. Sold your shit on eBay."

She tossed her bag to the couch as she laughed quietly, quirking a brow. "Oh, really? A year and you've suddenly turned into a criminal?"

"I could've."

"What a personality change."

I laughed as she stopped by my side, nudging me in the arm slightly, before her gaze fell to the photos hung on the wall.

"Ah, going through memory lane, I see," she teased lightheartedly.

I glanced at her with a slight smile. "It's cute that you've still got it. Even if it is a terrible photo."

"It's not," she said with a chuckle, looking at it with pride. "It's a two in one, I had to keep it. My first TV appearance and the day I met you. It just makes it extra special that you took the photo."  

My cheeks grew warm at her words, and I found myself staring at her profile as she smiled reminiscently at the photo. We'd come so far since then and yet I still did a double take whenever I looked to her. Maybe some things hadn't changed...

"I'm just gonna change my clothes and then we can head out," she said after a moment. "Won't be long."

"It's cool, take your time," I said with a nod, watching as she went to her room, before looking back to the photo and finding myself smiling all over again.

—

Becoming friends with Skye again made it easy to remember all the best parts of having a friendship with her, so much that I almost forgot what led to everything being ruined in the first place.

Of course there was the substance abuse, but the reason for that was the anxieties and stresses that came with being one of the most popular celebrities in the world. And it definitely didn't help that Skye never had a lot of support from her team, who only ever saw her as a commodity. Clearly that hadn't changed.

I'd just finished some work one morning and had plans to hang out with Skye after, maybe catch a movie or something as she had the day off, we hadn't really decided. But when I called her, she answered groggily.

"Hey, Skye, you good?" I asked jokingly.

She made a sound like a yawn before humming. "Yes, sorry, I was just napping. Just been tired."

"Oh, I was calling to say I'm free now, but we can rearrange if–"

"No, no, I want to see you," she cut me off with assurance, forcing herself to sound more lively. "A movie, right? Or lunch?"

I tried not to snicker. "Skye, it's your day off and you sound exhausted. It's alright."

"I'm fine, honest," she said confidently, or an attempt at it. "Please, I was looking forward to seeing you."

I sighed, debating whether or not to listen to her. Then, I thought of a solution. "How about we stay in? I can come to yours and we can watch a movie there?"

"Yes, I'd love that," she said with a hint of relief. "Thank you. I'll get the blankets warmed up in the dryer, ready for your arrival."

I laughed quietly. "Sounds good. I'll bring some snacks and be over soon."

And just like that, we both kept to our word and got comfortable on her couch barely half an hour later. Snacks were laid out on the coffee table whilst two fluffy blankets covered us completely. Still, we leaned against each other for warmth.

Skye was definitely burnt out, her general enthusiasm diminished temporarily and her movements sluggish, but she was smiling all the same as she spent time with me. I knew she meant it, but it still worried me that she wasn't getting enough time to simply rest.

"How's tour stuff going?" I asked as she loaded up a film on Netflix.

She shrugged as she focused on the task at hand. "Alright. Been busy. You know how it can get."

I glanced at her. "I do."

She must have noticed my staring as she stopped what she was doing and looked over at me with an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing," I said nonchalantly, looking to the TV. "Just remember that you can take a break if you need to. It's important or you'll risk burning out."

She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder and playing with the blanket mindlessly. "I know. I am."

"Enough breaks," I clarified, watching her hands play with it. "I mean, your team are supportive, I'm sure, but they don't always know what's best for you."

She snorted with amusement, glancing up at me. "And you do?"

I met her gaze, half playful and half serious. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll always be an advocate of you taking a freakin' break."

She suppressed a smile as she nudged me appreciatively. "You're right. I will. I guess I've just been busy making sure everything is perfect. It has to be, you know? Especially after everything."

"I know," I said sympathetically. "I get it. Just... take care of yourself. Please."

She nodded, though sunk further into the couch as she laced her hands around my arm to get comfortable, almost like she was ending the conversation without saying so. I took the hint and looked back to the screen.

"Picked a film yet?" I asked.

"Almost."

—

Despite how easy it was to fall back into everything with Skye, there were still topics we didn't discuss. Like we never brought up our friendship-ending argument again, or her time in rehab, and she never talked about the accident. It wasn't that I didn't leave that space open for her to discuss, but it was definitely her way of keeping that separate by not bringing it up. And naturally, I didn't want to force her to relive it by bringing it up either.

But not talking about it meant I didn't always know how to help her.

We were walking around a park near her apartment one evening, enjoying a stroll at first, but then we started to mess around on some of the playing equipment since the place was deserted.

"You really think you can clear it in ten seconds?" I asked her with a laugh as she looked up at the monkey bars.

"I do, yeah," she said, mirroring my laughter as she glanced at me. "You just watch. Go on. Grab your phone. Timer at the ready please."

Curious, I pulled out my phone and stepped back, finger hovering over the timer. "Ready when you are, idiot."

She grinned before standing beneath the monkey bars. Looking up at them, she took a deep breath, about to jump up, but I intentionally interrupted to throw her off.

"You sure you don't wanna stretch first?"

She jumped and glared at me playfully. "Shut up. Just get ready."

I laughed and waited patiently, watching as she readied herself once more. And then she jumped up to grab the bars and I started the timer.

She managed to move down three bars before faltering at the fourth one and then letting go all of a sudden. My eyes widened when she landed on the tarmac with a sharp gasp, and I forgot all about the stupid timer as I rushed to check on her.

"Shit, Skye, you okay?" I asked quickly, kneeling down beside her.

Her face contorted in pain as her hand clutched her back. She was leaning on her elbow, clearly hurt.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered quickly, though she winced and her eyes were squeezing shut to suppress the pain.

I noticed she was holding her back – not really putting together that it was from her existing back pain from the accident – and tried to help by reaching for her jacket to see if she'd hurt it from the fall.

"No!" she suddenly shouted when she saw me attempting to touch her, and I jumped.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," I apologised, not wanting to overwhelm or upset her anymore than she already was.

I moved my hand back, but she grabbed it and squeezed gently before I could, an attempt at an apology for her outburst. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as she breathed out the pain, and I didn't say anything more as I held her hand, waiting patiently. Though my heart was clenching with concern the longer she took.

"It hurts sometimes," she finally spoke, avoiding my eyes, "from the accident. That's all."

When I realised it was much more than just falling from the monkey bars, I felt stupid and spoke without thinking. "Do you have medicine?"

She tensed her jaw as she glanced at me.

"Stupid question, sorry," I realised, grimacing.

She let go of my hand and shook her head, expression softening. "No, it wasn't."

Something was bothering her, more than the pain, but now wasn't the time to ask, so I settled on helping her stand up.

"Maybe we should call it a night," I said carefully. "It's getting late anyway."

She nodded, still avoiding my eyes, and we both walked back to her apartment in an awkward silence. A million things were running through my mind, mostly out of concern for Skye, and acknowledging my utter stupidity. For once, I couldn't read her.

When we reached the lobby inside, we paused by the lift.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to dial down my worry for her sake.

"Yes, sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," I assured her, eyes scanning her expression as she purposely looked at my shirt and not me. "I didn't mean to overstep before. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She shook her head, eyes flickering to mine briefly, sad, before looking down to her shoes. "You didn't. I just–"

She paused, a moment too long, enough to make me wonder what had her so uneasy.

"It's not pretty," she finally spoke, quieter than usual. "The... the scar. It's..."

"You don't need to explain," I said, when she didn't speak anymore, though my heart ached with concern, soon realising her uneasiness was embarrassment. An unnecessary embarrassment at that, as if I'd care about a scar when she was still here, alive.

I gave her a moment, hoping she'd say something more, but she didn't.

"Will you be okay?" I asked worriedly, not wanting to leave her tonight if her back was flaring up.

She nodded. "Yeah."

I nodded too, though was unsure how to say my goodbyes. Usually I'd go in for a hug, but she was already uncomfortable with me touching her before and the last thing I wanted was to do that again.

But then she finally looked up, eyes meeting mine gratefully, before she hugged me.

"Thanks for not thinking I'm weird," she mumbled into my shoulder, arms wrapped around them tightly.

I returned the hug gently. "I could never."

She didn't let go straight away and neither did I, not until she made the first move since clearly she needed this hug more than I did.

Finally, she pulled apart and offered me a small smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight," I said, returning her smile, before reluctantly leaving her.

—

It was the first time we'd even come close to talking about the accident and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. She wasn't opening up and I wondered if she felt like she couldn't. But maybe that incident was the key, because things changed soon after.

About a week later, I was fast asleep when I woke up to my phone vibrating on my bedside table. Confused, I cracked an eye open, wondering who could be calling in the middle of the night, but then the vibrating stopped. I considered if I cared that much, before deciding it could've been an emergency and checking who it was.

When I saw Skye's name, I woke up a little more, overcome with concern since she'd never called like this before. Immediately, I rang her back. It took two rings before she picked up.

"Hello?" she answered with confusion.

Still half asleep, I answered groggily, "Why are you confused? You just called me."

She sighed. "I did. Sorry. I cut it off when I realised."

She sounded different, her voice hoarse.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes.

"Sorry, I just–" She tutted at herself. "It's late, Y/N, go back to sleep."

Even half conscious, I knew she wasn't okay. "Skye."

It went quiet, but she gave in, to my relief. "I had a bad dream," she admitted quietly. "I just wanted to distract myself. I didn't mean to wake you."

I frowned to myself. "Are you okay?"

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. "I will be. Really, just go to sleep, I'll be fine."

"I can't sleep knowing you're by yourself," I told her, too tired to hide my worry.

She paused, and then her voice came out guiltily, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," I said gently, before asking, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," she answered quickly, before adding, "It's late. I don't want you up and about this late into the night."

I was already pulling my duvet off and sitting at the edge of my bed as I said, "It's not a problem, Skye." It went quiet on her end, so I prompted, "Skye?"

"You don't mind?" she asked hesitantly.

Realising she did in fact want me there, I tried to reassure her. "No, of course not. I can come now."

She practically held her breath. "I owe you."

"You don't."

Exhaling softly, she said, "I'll send a cab to get you. I'll cover the cost. I don't want you on public transport in New York when all the weirdos are out."

I cracked a small smile. "Okay, Skye, see you soon."

Sounding relieved, she said, "See you soon."

I yawned as I hung up, trying to move quickly but still trying to wake up and so unintentionally moving at snail speed. After packing a small bag, including a change of clothes and some toiletries, I pulled on my shoes and a jacket before leaving for Skye's.

The taxi ride wasn't long since the streets weren't busy, and I found myself at Skye's door in less than twenty minutes. As soon as I knocked, she opened up.

"Hey," I said with a tired smile, before hugging her in greeting. "How are you?"

She hugged me back and let me in, closing the door behind me. I noticed she was wearing her pyjamas, hair dishevelled and eyes a little red.

"Better now," she admitted, before frowning. "I'm sorry I woke you up. But I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you did," I told her, before leaving my bag by the kitchen counter. "So, what do you want to do?"

"You're tired," she noticed.

I waved a hand dismissively, trying to look more awake. "I can stay awake if you want, Skye."

She sighed, shaking her head, before wordlessly grabbing my hand and dragging me to her bedroom.

"Come on," she said as she climbed into her queen sized bed, so I got out of my shoes and jacket and followed suit, settling in beside her.

We laid on our backs, staring up at the ceiling in silence. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I glanced at her, her expression dimly lit by the moonlight and lights shining through her blinds. She was weary, though attempting to hide it.

"Do you have bad dreams often?" I asked curiously.

She swallowed visibly. "Not as much as I used to, but... sometimes, yeah." She paused, as if stuck in an internal debate, before admitting, "It was about the accident."

At the mention of the accident, the air in the room felt charged with uncertainty, and Skye's jaw tensed slightly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked tenderly, and when she didn't reply, I quickly added, "Or you don't have to at all."

Her dark eyes flickered to mine, surprisingly calm. "It's okay. It's just– it's a lot. And when I'm alone, it's..."

"A lot," I finished for her.

She nodded, looking back up at the ceiling. "Yeah."

I found her hand between us, squeezing it gently in support.

"I remember how difficult it was after," she muttered. "That, and the withdrawals, and all of it – it was a lot. Being in the hospital... I had my mum, but it felt so lonely."

I frowned as she recalled the experience, hearing it for the first time from her lips. And then she looked over at me and I looked back, realising there were tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you come?" she asked, voice cracking and eyes welling up. "I wanted you to visit so bad. I– I thought you would."

Not expecting that, I struggled to speak. "I told you, Skye, I thought you wouldn't want me there. I..."

She let go of my hand and wiped her eyes shamefully, looking away. I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow to look down at her, not wanting her to bottle everything up now.

"I waited," she whispered. "Every day, hoping you'd come to see me."

My heart crumbled at her words, guilt pressing down on my chest. "I'm sorry."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's not your fault, I know that. But I just..."

With the nightmare still fresh and her recollection of the past at the forefront of her mind, I knew her emotions were heightened and she was overwhelmed, and it hurt to witness.

I pulled her into my chest for a hug, rubbing her back gently. "I wish I had. I wanted nothing more than to see you then, Skye, truly. But I'm here now. I promise."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away either. Her sniffles were heard in the silence of the room and she kept a firm grip on my tee shirt, and I didn't know what else to do other than continue to rub her back soothingly.

At some point, we must have dosed off like that because when I opened my eyes next, it was morning. I yawned as I rubbed my face, confused to where I was at first. And then I recognised Skye's room and it all came back to me.

I looked beside me, seeing Skye fast asleep, face smushed against her pillow adorably. She looked a lot better than she did last night and I was glad for it, seriously worried about her. Hopefully she'd gotten some sleep after everything.

Trying not to stare too long, reminding myself that it wasn't very platonic of me, I looked away and carefully clambered out of her bed to freshen up. After doing so, I went into her kitchen to find something to eat.

I was eating from a bowl of cereal at her kitchen island when I heard footsteps, looking up to see her leaving her bedroom.

"Good morning," I greeted. "How are you feeling?"

She hummed tiredly, yawning and running a hand through her dishevelled hair. I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"Better," she finally spoke, brown eyes meeting mine across the counter. "Thanks, Y/N. For coming last night."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, and looked down thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "I know I haven't talked to you much about it all."

My expression softened. "I don't expect you to."

"I know," she said quietly, before meeting my gaze. "I want to. I do. Otherwise the way I am, how I act... it doesn't make sense and I don't want you to feel confused or think I'm insane or–"

"Hey," I cut her off, furrowing my brows. "I don't think that, Skye."

She chewed her lip momentarily, eyes flickering to the counter top. "I want you to know. Eventually. I just– it'll be bit by bit because I can't go through it all at once. It's too much."

I frowned sympathetically. "That's alright. You can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you want. Meanwhile, if you just want the support, I can give you that too. It's what friends do."

She smiled a little, nodding. "Right."

I studied her expression, unsure what to make of it. "Did you get any sleep? Last night?"

She nodded, looking up. "I did, yeah. Thanks for coming. I know it was late. And I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

I gave her a knowing look, offering a small smile. "You need to stop apologising."

She exhaled. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Never mind that. You want breakfast? I can make whatever you want, providing you have it of course."

She smiled as she took a seat. "That would be nice, yeah. Eggs couldn't hurt."

"Eggs it is then," I said, eating the last bite of my cereal before standing up. "Give me five minutes.”

She nodded and watched me, relaxed for even the smallest of moments, enough to put me at ease too.

[minnlahzz]

amethio, silver x hex maniac reader.

requested

amethio and silver! oreo and jalapeño duo (this is separated.) sorry for the big wait, school is biting my toes. uhh silvers is very short, because I feel like ive mentioned most of the things silver would do in other fics. I don't wanna seem repetitive or uncreative!

— AMETHIO

amethio would initially be unsure what to make of you. your eerie aura and cryptic way of speaking would intrigue him, but he’d be cautious. he’s logical, so he’d view what you do as something he needs to understand rather than dismiss, because every person is different why judge them. he’d probably think, "are they like this all the time?" when you casually mention something spooky like the “ghosts watching over” him.

amethio’s edgy demeanor and your crazy words would balance each other out. he’d act as the grounded counterpart to your whimsical nature, often giving you a deadpan look when you go off on a supernatural tangent.

“amethio, the spirit (random gengar) says this battle will be tough.”

“the spirit is stating the obvious.”

your comments often catch him off guard, not because he gets scared of it. it's just becuse you just say it so randomly it's kind of concerning, leading to some amusing exchanges.

“The ghosts approve of you, amethio.”

“good to know. now, tell them to get out out of my way.”

your unpredictability often throws him off balance. whether it’s your cryptic compliments (“the spirits find you quite handsome today”) or your sudden affection, he finds himself flustered more often than he’d like to admit.

your spooky vibe complements his calm and calculated style perfectly. he’d use your unnerving presence to throw off opponents while he plans a precise attack. he might even ask you for “spiritual advice” during critical missions, though you’re never quite sure if he’s joking or went insane.

he isn't really phased from ghosts, neither is his pokemon. ceruledge is one of the few pokémon that isn’t fazed by your team. it often stands protectively between amethio and your more mischievous Pokémon like (for example) misdreavus, who enjoys pranking people by floating off with their belongings. ceruledge gets really paranoid and assumes all your ghosts are evil at first.

amethio never disregards your interests, and tries his best help you enjoy them, even if he's not a fan of it himself.

— SILVER

silver is honestly pretty game with whatever crazy stuff you do, he didn't stop loving you after you did questionable things in order to see ghosts (he'd be apart of it anyway.)

first time meeting you silver already felt discomfort/concern. (not negative) he’d wonder if you had some hidden agenda, but over time, he’d notice how kind and sincere you are, even with your random outbursts, which would ease his initial distrust.

silver reluctantly tags along when you explore spooky ruins or abandoned buildings to “connect with spirits.” he’d grumble about how impractical it is, but goes anyway. (his honchkrow becomes your flashlight during these adventures.)

your spooky jokes and ghostly references catch him off guard, but he grows to enjoy your sense of humor. he won’t laugh out loud, but the corner of his mouth quirks up when you say something particularly clever. silver might even use them too, but to an extent. gold never understand the jokes...

when travelling on a mission sent by professor oak by the dex holders (gold, and crys mostly) he makes sure to find and pick up eerie trinkets and paranormal items to give to you on his return. he'd just silently sneak them in his pocket without the other two knowing, sometimes what he does though leads to a bigger problem.

"hey silver what are you doing! this place is completely abandoned don't touch that!" crys silently yelled (if you get it) in the corner.

silver unresponsive, shrugs and picks it up... suddenly a locked door opens "WHAT DID YOU DO?" gold yelled from the other room, echoing through the entire building.

"silver you pay for my life insurance."

"it's just another room, there might be something important we could give to professor oak there. you guys are just overreacting."

"GHOST!"

silver knows alot of paranormal information because of you, and it definitely saved the 3 idiots lifes maybe twice. lesson learned: don't go to abandoned haunted building, (unless you're a hex maniac the ghosts are pretty cool with you.)

it's not just him that gives the other trinkets, it's also vice-versa! you gift silver supposedly "haunted" charms, he's skeptical but carries it around anyway. when he wins a tough match, you proudly point at the many trinkets you gave him.

"the spirits were with you, horray!" you say celebrating.

"or maybe it was my training, but you know that works too."

silver has a beef with your pokemon, doesn't matter which he hates them and they hate him. (don't worry though) your pokemon like taunting him and whenever he complains, you brush it off as them bonding together.

“tell your pokémon to stop stealing my items,” he says, holding up a poké ball with a stone faced expression.

“it’s just trying to bond with you!” you reply.

“...bond less.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Could you maybe do Regina X Reader where reader is have gender dysphoria (Non-binary or trans masc or gender fluid?) and that sort of makes them feel small and little again :(, and Regina is just there to comfort them and take care of them and stuff?

Waking Nightmare

|| Regina George x transmasc!reader

|| Warnings; dysphoria focused, Regina after the bus incident, soft Regina, crying reader, hurt/comfort, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader looks in the mirror, reader's reminded of some... not so nice thoughts.

Requests closed!

Started; November 21st

Finished; November 21st

Author Note; this is the last request in my inbox, I will be working on series and ideas from comments on my Sevika post. So except a lot of Arcane stuff. My inbox will be open again soon, but for now I'm just taking a break from requests. There will still be posts 🫶

~~~

The mirror was your waking nightmare. It felt like every time you looked in it, something grabbed at your throat. Made it hard to breathe. The way your stomach twisted in knots that could make you feel nauseous... it was a lot. You hated doing it. But sometimes it was necessary. To make sure your outfits worked, that your hair was done well. The light makeup that covered your face to keep pimples at bay.

A sigh left your lips, your hand trailing down the side of your face. Then brushing your chest. You struggled a lot with body dysphoria. Being trans masc... wasn't easy. It weighed on you mentally. How you were always reminded you would never fully be who you wanted to be. It sucked. So much. The tears started before you could stop them, just as the door to your room opened. Your girlfriend walked through. Having spent the night at your place. Regina looked to you and frowned as she saw your face in the mirror. Were you... crying? Of course, the blonde knew about your struggles. How hard it was for you to see yourself the way she did.

She loved you. More than she ever loved anybody else. So, it hurt the blonde whenever you got like this. Regina walked over to you, gently wrapping her arms around you from behind. Resting her chin to your head. Her thumb brushing across your skin under your shirt. "Shh, you're handsome. So handsome. Don't listen to the voices."

You felt small. Helpless, even with her words of encouragement. Regina had always been softer with you. You were her one weakness, the soft spot that could never harden. She was sad when you were sad. Happy when you were happy. You made her want to change. Be a better version of herself that would make you happy.

You leaned into her touch. Trying to find that comfort within her words. You knew Regina was trying to change for you. After the bus incident happened, she became softer. Better at comforting. And it certainly helped calm the storm of your mind. Though it was ever present. Even if, just for the moment, it was lingering towards the back of your mind. Instead of being your main focus.

Before you could even protest, Regina's hand covered your lips. Sighing as she used the mirror to look into your eyes." If you aren't about to say something positive about yourself.. don't open your mouth." You huffed at that. She was right. Like she usually was. Sometimes, it annoyed you how well Regina seemed to understand you.

Regina kept you in her arms, whispering sweet praises while she kissed your cheek. Then lower, kissing your earlobe. Before making her way down your neck. All the while whispering praises and compliments," mm, you're such a handsome man." She'd murmur, followed by some... not so PG comments as well. Ones that made your face turn red. Regina laughed a bit when she saw your reaction, turning you to look into her eyes. She kissed your lips. The soft lips sending shivers through your spine and body. Her kisses were good. Addicting. Enough to erase whatever last negative thoughts you had hanging around. It was what you needed. You had Regina. She saw you for you. The way you wanted to be seen. And that was enough for you.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

can you write a fic about readerxjosh and reader getting their period and josh being super sweet and helpful about it?? please??

Josh w reader on their period - Headcannons

Warnings: Period stuff lmao

A/N: hello anon! thought it would be easier for me to do this in headcannons instead of writing a full fic so here we goooo

Josh w reader on their period

Josh is super attentive and picks up on your mood shifts immediately. Even before you say something, he’s already offering hugs, snacks, or a warm blanket. In fact, he can almost always tell when you're about to get your period based on your mood.

He remembers your favorite cravings (salty chips, chocolate, or something totally random) and keeps a stash just for "that time of the month. He makes sure to order anything you want and will even drive to the grocery store if he needs to.

If he notices you wincing from cramps, he’ll grab a heating pad, but if you don’t have one, he’ll DIY something creative—like microwaving a sock filled with rice.

Josh loves snuggling with you anyway, but he’s extra gentle during your period. He’s a pro at rubbing your back or tummy when the cramps hit hard.

He’s totally okay with binging whatever cheesy rom-coms or comfort shows you’re into. If you cry over a plot twist, he’ll pretend to be mad at the writers with you.

Being the musician he is, he makes playlists for each of your moods and tries to cheer you up when you're sad with music. Sometimes he sneaks in an emo song or a twenty one pilots song for himself.

He has no problem running out for tampons, pads, or whatever you need. He’s chill and even texts to confirm the right brand so you’re not stuck with the wrong thing.

Josh is the type to randomly bring home flowers or your favorite tea just to brighten your day when you're feeling bleh.

If you’re into light exercise to ease cramps, he’ll offer to join you for a walk or gentle stretching. But if you’d rather Netflix and lounge, he’s totally down for that too.

He’s super patient if you get snappy or emotional. “Hey, I get it,” he’ll say with a grin, brushing off any sass you throw his way.

He’ll pull goofy antics, like balancing drumsticks on his head, to make you laugh when you're in a bad mood.

If you wake up craving ice cream or fries at midnight, Josh is the type to throw on a hoodie and run out to grab it.

He might secretly download an app to keep track of your cycle so he’s always prepared for when you need extra care.

When you’re feeling gross or bloated, Josh showers you with compliments. “You’re literally the most beautiful human, even when you’re in sweats.”

Whether you’re ranting about cramps, your mood, or the unfairness of life, Josh listens without interrupting or judging. He’ll nod along and say, “You’re totally right.”

If you ever feel self-conscious about anything period-related, he’s quick to reassure you: “Hey, this is natural. You’re amazing for dealing with it.”

//

Hope you liked this!!

REQUESTS OPEN