#and when her edges soften; her body is my coffin ....

[touyaloid]

She knows just how to hold me ...

[noandpickles]

once again asking how the hell Love Me Dead by Ludo wasn't written about griddlehark

[kiyomitakada]

odd phenomenon where you are first introduced to an awesome song through a playlist for a ship/blorbo but then after listening to it on loop you realize you actually associate it with a different ship/blorbo

[dicingvision]

THE Blaine song to me. This is his anthem in Tempest, you don’t even KNOW

[fart-poop-daily]

girls when love me cancerously

[potatoesandsunshine]

SHE MOVES THROUGH MOONBEAMS SLOWLY! SHE KNOWS JUST HOW TO HOLD ME!!!!

[collegeoflore]

i was destined to become wildly obsessed with durgetash bc it’s been so long since i’ve had a playlist i could put love me dead onto and know it actually fits.

[shungyo]

━━ ⊹ · tag dump 3. bonds 🌸

🌸 innosen:・ﾟ as my body becomes ashes remember my words: i will protect you from far and beyond. ━━ ⊹ ·

🌸 snowtombedstar:・ﾟ & when her edges soften her body is my coffin. ━━ ⊹ ·

🌸 rukuan:・ﾟ when the sun touches the sea sing to me on a starry beach. ━━ ⊹ ·

🌸 startoru:・ﾟ you dream of joining the stars when you're already burning bright child. ━━ ⊹ ·

🌸 lorendiel:・ﾟ you who brings me peace : consumed by your everything. ━━ ⊹ ·

[terrifiedtrinket]

this song is so good that i *spontaneously combusts*

[meadowfics]

not your time

cho hyun ju x f!reader with past mentions of kim young-mi x f!reader

this is chapter eight for my BLOOMING FLOWER SERIES

synopsis: those who seek death, live

warnings: ATTEMPTS OF SUICIDE! please don't romanticize anything in here. blood, violence, angst, depression, hopelessness, suicidal ideation. reader discretion is advised.

mingle game concludes with a chilling silence that settles over the arena.

the once-vibrant carousel lights dimming to a muted glow as the final doors lock with a resounding clang.

all surviving players emerge from their rooms, their faces full with the exhaustion of surviving.

you stand among them, your broken shoe scrapes against the platform.

hyun-ju saved you in the final round after the round that killed young-mi.

the woman's strong hands pulled you into the pink room when you stood still once the number 'two' was called.

you were paralyzed by a numb desire to let death claim you.

the game’s end should bring relief, but it doesn’t.

your mind is a void, your body moving on autopilot as you drift toward the green door where young-mi fell earlier. there is a blood spot that remains, a dark, glistening stain on the ivory floor, her life’s essence left behind twenty minutes ago.

young-mi's body is no longer there. however, you knew it was cold and stripped of the warmth to wherever they have taken her.

it was the body you once held dear, now carted away in a coffin, the forklifts’ mechanical hum still echoing in your memory as you stared at 333 with anger in your eyes.

now, you sink to your knees.

the hard surface bites into your skin, as you crawl and extend a trembling hand toward the blood.

once you reach the spot your fingers dip into the warm, sticky pool, the sensation a reminder of young-mi's final moments. your girlfriend was short, how did this much blood come out of her?

without a conscious thought, you smear it across your face, streaking your cheeks and forehead with crimson lines.

it’s a strange, almost ritualistic act.

it is a desperate attempt to cling to the last tangible piece of young-mi’s existence, her blood a connection to the love now lost.

you stay there, kneeling beside the stain, your eyes tracing its edges where it seeps into the floor's small little cracks, your breath shallow as the reality of her absence sinks deeper.

the scent of iron fills your nostrils, mingling with the faint memory of her strawberry fragrance, and the sinking feeling tears at you.

young-mi's body, once vibrant and alive, is growing colder by the minute.

the warmth you cherished slips away forever.

hyun-ju and geum-ja approach you, their footsteps soft against the platform, yong-sik trailing behind with hesitant, uncertain steps, his young face clouded with worry.

the ex-marine kneels beside you, her tall frame casting a shadow over the blood spot, her voice gentle but laced with urgency.

“y/n, I'm sorry... but we need to go back to the dorms now,” she says, her hand hovering near your shoulder, fingers trembling slightly.

“it’s not safe to stay here.”

you shake your head slowly, a stubborn refusal, your gaze fixed on the blood as if it holds the key to bringing her back.

geum-ja crouches on your other side, her maternal presence a faint warmth amidst the cold of your heart.

“what you’re feeling is valid, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice soft and measured, though it feels like she’s speaking through you, her own grief mirroring yours.

“it’s okay to hurt, to grieve. we’re here with you.”

hyun-ju’s hands finally settle on your arms, her grip firm yet tender as she tries to lift you.

“come on, please,” she pleads, her tone softening, “we can’t stay here.”

you resist at first, your body heavy with despair, but her persistence breaks through, and she pulls you to your feet, holding you close as you descend the colorful stairs. the nauseating swirl of pinks, yellows, and blues blurs into a ton of pain.

in the dorms, you stumble to your bunk, collapsing onto the thin mattress where you and young-mi once shared fleeting moments of comfort.

you bury your face in the pillow, pressing your nose into the fabric where her head once rested, and inhale deeply.

the faint scent of her strawberry shampoo wafts up, a lingering echo of her presence, and it unleashes a floodgate within you.

you cry, a loud, lung-hurting wail that rips through the dormitory, the sound raw and unfiltered.

it echos off the concrete walls and drawing every eye in the room.

“what’s up with her?” player 124 asks looking at se-mi. the man's voice curious and slightly annoyed as he huddles with his group near the bunks.

se-mi shoots him a sharp look, “she lost her girlfriend in mingle,” she says flatly, her tone carrying a weight of empathy.

thanos, the purple-haired 230, nods solemnly, his usual manic energy subdued.

“that’s tough, man,” he mutters, his voice low, a rare moment of seriousness.

your cries grow louder, a keening sound that reverberates through the dorm space.

as the voting process begins, the guard's voices only overshadow your cries lightly.

the mechanical voice calls out numbers, the rhythm of survival continuing despite your world’s end.

when “player 112” echoes through the dorm, you don’t move, lying numb on the bed, your body a lifeless shell.

the guard’s voice follows, cold and detached.

they gave you four seconds to get the chance to cast your vote.

when it was clear that you weren't standing up, the guard spoke up, “player 112 has forfeited her vote.”

the words drift over you, meaningless in the void where young-mi once lived.

later, as the long line forms for the meal distribution, you remain still.

the energy to rise is drained from your soul.

hyun-ju comes over, her hands carrying a boiled egg and a glass water bottle, the items placed gently on your bed.

she sits beside you, her presence is quiet.

“y/n, you need to eat something,” she says softly, her voice laced with concern as she holds out the egg, “just a bite, please.”

you don’t respond, your gaze fixed on the wall, your mind lost in the replay of young-mi’s final moments.

hyun-ju sighs, her shoulders slumping.

when you remain silent, she sets the food down and walks away, her footsteps fading into the murmur of the dorm.

in a corner of the dorm room, gi-hun gathers a group which has hyun-ju among them.

the man's voice is low but intense as he outlines an attempted rebellion.

“we strike back tonight, after the lights come back on,” he says, his eyes fierce. as he speaks, hyun-ju listens intently, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, lying awake and numb on your bunk.

after the conversation ends, she approaches you again.

“y/n,” she whispers, kneeling beside you, “I think many ‘O’ voters are planning to kill the ‘X’ players tonight. it’s going to be dangerous. please, stay safe.”

you stare at the wall, the threat a distant echo...death feels like a release, a reunion with young-mi, and you don’t care if it comes by the hands of an 'O' player desperate for money.

the 'X' on your jacket is large, making you a target.

hyun-ju frowns, her eyes searching yours.

“please, stay safe,” she repeats, her voice breaking, “that’s all young-mi would want for you.”

you lower your head, staring at the blanket. the fabric is a blur through your tears.

hyunju walks away, her defeat palpable.

when lights out plunges the dorm into darkness, you look up. the flickering shadows revealing ‘O’ players moving with predatory intent. the red 'X' and the blue 'O' glow on the floor, shining their faces.

you stand, your broken shoe silent for once, and slide under the bunk, the cold floor a contrast to the feeling of despair within.

the carnage begins as screams pierce the air. after a few seconds, the screams are followed by the harsh flicker of lights as violence erupts.

you press yourself against the metal frame on the floor.

the realization settles as the games get more intense.

you can’t survive this, not with your soul already dead alongside young-mi.

maybe, in the distraction of the murderous players, you can escape it all.

you crawl out, grabbing a coarse blanket from the bed.

climbing up the stairs to the highest bunk, your movements are mechanical.

you fashion the blanket into a noose, your hands trembling as you tie it to the bar, the knot rough against your fingers.

you loop it around your neck, the fabric chafing your skin, and close your eyes, ready to step off and hang yourself over the carnage below.

this is all to end the pain where young-mi's life ended.

nobody needs to kill you since you’ll do it yourself, you think.

it is a final act of control in a world that’s stripped it away from you.

before you can move, a force slams into you from behind, strong and sudden.

you spin, expecting a blade or a fist, your breath catching in terror.

it’s hyun-ju, her eyes wide with panic, her hands gripping your shoulders.

“y/n, what the hell are you doing?” she yells, her voice cracking as she yanks the blanket from around your neck, her fingers fumbling with the knot.

“would young-mi want this? would she want you to give up like this?” hyunju's words are a barrage, tears streaking her face.

you collapse into sobs, your body shaking uncontrollably, the blanket-noose falling to the floor twenty feet below.

“i can’t live without her,” you cry, the words a jagged wound torn from your throat.

“she’s gone, hyun-ju, and i’m nothing without her. i see her everywhere. her smile, her tears, and it hurts too much!” your voice breaks, a wail of anguish that blends with the screams below.

hyun-jus grip tightens on your arms.

“yes, you can,” she insists, her tone strict as the sounds of ripped flesh and screams come from below.

“you can live for her, for the love you shared. she wouldn’t want this for you, y/n. she’d want you to fight, to find another reason to keep going.”

the carnage below continues, screams and the flicker of lights a chaotic symphony, but hyun-ju’s presence keeps you tunnel-visioned.

all this time, hyun-ju has felt something for you...a pull she mistook for jealousy when she first saw your pretty face, your quiet strength drawing her in.

just right before the votes that started your argument with young-mi, she realized it was attraction. it was a warmth she buried out of respect for you and young-mi.

seeing you on that bunk, ready to hang yourself, she couldn’t stay under the bunk and watch.

she drags you down the steps by your arm, her movements quick and determined, the blanket left behind on the ground below as a discarded symbol of your despair.

you both hide under a bunk again, the cold floor pressing against your back.

the screams and flickering lights a constant reminder of the rebellion’s toll.

“once the lights turn on, hide in a corner,” she whispers, her breath uneven, her hand still on your arm.

“what?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

your hand brushes over the phantom pressure of the noose still lingering on your neck.

“just—hide in a corner, I'll explain it all later.” she hesitates.

there is concern in her eyes, yes, but also that unspoken attraction.

“please, y/n, just do it. please stay alive.”

you nod slowly, the blanket’s ghost still haunting your skin.

fortunately, hyun-ju saved your life.

it wasn’t your time, not yet.

even though the pain of young-mi’s absence lingers like a shadow you can’t outrun.

especially when the lights turn on, and the screams and stabs turn into loud gunshot noises.

next chapter

full series masterlist linked here

[yoiisa]

LOOKS LIKE THE REAL THING ⋆˙⟡ SAE ITOSHI

"And if I could be who you wanted, if I could be who you wanted, All the time, all the time" - "Fake Plastic Trees" by Radiohead Tags: TW for suicide, familial arguments where children get involved, mentions of injuries, and mentions of violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms (repression). MAJOR ANGST, lotta hurt and not a lotta comfort, Rin haunts the narrative and Sae cannot deal with it part 2 here!!

a/n: I do not know what cortex in my brain is responsible for the amount of angst I’ve been craving but she’s been active and I cannot stop. Radiohead brings out the worst and best in people after all so whoopsie! Have fun!

Bear in mind that I’m pretty sure those are all the TWs this fic contains, but just in case I missed any please proceed w this utmost caution! Always put yourself and your mental health first!

It wasn’t a problem at first for Sae. When you’d had your first kid, a daughter, she’d been a carbon copy of you. Her sat at your bedside, her swaddled in his arms as he whispered about how pretty she would be since you were her mom.

You two had named her Yuki, since she was born on the winter solstice. Snow. When that pang had shot through Sae, he thought nothing of it.

That changed the minute he saw his second born- his son. Haru still looked more like you than Sae, but his eyes, that teal color that seemed to rewind time itself. It stopped his heart. Those big round eyes, taking in his father for the first time. Sae almost collapsed.

Haru and Yuki got along well enough, and he was glad. Really, he was. Yuki seemed born to be a big sister. When Haru was still a baby, she’d litter kisses along his head while they played and insisted that she’d help feed him. She helped Haru take his first steps, and was the reason Haru laughed for the first time.

All of the adults that knew the pair would say the same exact thing: “Those two will be friends forever.”

Sae would always swallow the lump in his throat, which somehow would work to soothe his rapidly beating heart.

Everyone used to say the same thing about him and Rin after all when they were his kids’ age. Rin wasn’t around anymore though. He’d been in a car accident. He’d been crossing the street when a semi ran him over, killing him almost instantly. Sae could see his brother’s body still, lying pale and still as stone in his coffin. Those teal eyes would never open again, never stare at him as if he’d single handedly hung the stars in the sky. People would mutter than it was on purpose for years to come, but that couldn’t be true. Sae knew, it was an accident.

And he’d never gotten the chance to apologize for the fight he didn’t even know was happening.

When Haru first started acting like Rin, you had recognized the signs but Sae instantly got put on edge. It started from as young as Haru being six months old. He had been focusing so hard on rolling over onto his stomach. You, Yuki, and Sae had been sitting in the living room, you and your daughter cheering on as Haru struggled. Sae was smiling down at his son, his heart softening, before it gave a tight squeeze. Sae's eyes widened as he saw Haru's tongue peeking out from his lips. The tiny pink thing was pushed off to the side when Haru finally managed to successfully flip onto his stomach. It hung out a little bit as Haru smiled and you laughed at how cute your son was. You used your finger to poke it back in, and Sae felt like he was going to throw up.

Two years later, Yuki had been watching a TV show while Haru played with blocks next to her. She’d gotten up to use the bathroom, but as she did, her show ended and another program started to play. It was a nature documentary about dinosaurs, and it had a particularly gruesome display of a T-Rex taking a chunk out of another animal. Haru was mesmerized, before Sae and you rushed to turn the TV off. Yuki got an earful from you, but Haru instantly began bawling. Sae did his best to comfort his son, but Haru was adamantly crying for the next ten minutes, pointing at the TV that never got turned back on.

A few days later, Sae noticed Haru miming his stuffie dinosaur eating Yuki’s Barbie. Sae just told him to stop playing so violently, and ignored the way his mind was reeling.

When Haru was four, there was one day he and Yuki were eating ice creams in the kitchen during a particularly hot summer day.

“Did you win?” Yuki asked. Her face brightened into a smile as she cheered, “Yes! Got it!”

Haru narrows his eyes as he checks. He pouts and mumbles, “I lost.”

You giggled and petted your son’s head as he complained that I always lose! It’s not fair! Sae made a mental note to never buy that brand of ice cream again.

As you stood at the sink and washed the dishes, Sae walked up beside you and said sourly, “I thought they didn’t do that with the popsicle sticks anymore.”

You just shrugged, unbeknownst to the turmoil he had raging in his chest.

Everything eventually reached a head when Haru was old enough to know what soccer was. He'd been fascinated by his father's games since birth, and one day at the park, he'd raced up to a few older boys and asked if he could play. Initially, he'd just been brushed off, but his nagging got insistent enough that the older kids let him join.

Sae had been pushing Yuki on the swings when he heard the commotion from their group. He'd looked up and saw it then. Haru was shoving one of the boys away from the ball, the older kid shouting about how rough Haru was being. The young boy was ignorant though and played with the same brutality Rin had grown to cultivate though.

He was ruthless to himself. By the time Sae collected Haru to head home, he was covered in dirt stains and was bleeding from scratches all over his arm from the mulch. He had a nasty bruise forming on his shin, and when Yuki panicked, Haru brushed it off.

"Oh, this? One of the older kids accidentally kicked me too hard. But daddy! Did you see that amazing cap trick I scored?! It was just like in your last game!" he squealed.

Those teal eyes. His eyes. Rin's eyes. Haru watched Sae's face with enthusiasm, as if his life and death would be determined by whatever Sae was about to say. They were bright and glowed with the sun making them burn like fire.

Sae could only clear his throat and take Haru's hand in his. "It's called a hat trick. Don't play so rough. Let's go."

But Haru didn't listen. He never would. He pushed himself harder and harder, seeking out anyone who would play soccer with him every time they went to the park. Sae warded Haru off of the sport as best he could, but his son's hunger was insatiable. Haru would join games of middle schoolers some times, despite being barely five years old. Yuki wasn't even ten!

One day, the doorbell to his house had rang. When you and Sae went to the door to check who it was, your heart broke as you saw Haru on one of the boys' backs. Another stood in front and said, "I think he twisted his ankle. He started crying really badly while trying to steal the ball from Ken, and he couldn't walk."

Sae felt a bolt of white hot rage towards his son echo through his body. This is why he kept warning Haru. The game was dangerous especially when playing with people who had you out numbered and outmatched! Why couldn't his son have just gotten that.

Sae was silent on the drive to the doctor's. Yuki sat in the backseat comforting her brother while you kept giving his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel an odd look. On the drive home, Sae couldn't contain himself anymore.

"I told you this would happen, didn't I?" he growled. Yuki goes silent beside her brother and you freeze. Sae presses on. "Haru! Answer me!"

Haru's bottom lip trembles as he croaks, "Yes-"

"Then why wouldn't you listen to me, huh?! How could you be so . . . so . . . stupid!" Sae roars.

When the four of you get home, you scoop Haru into your arms and Sae all but yanks Yuki from the car. You guys walk inside, and Sae fixes a stern glare at his son. He practically hisses, "If I ever see you go near a soccer ball again, you'll pay hell, do you understand?"

Haru could only nod, terrified of his father's iciness. His teal eyes wet with tears that are now freely running down his face. Whereas his eyes used to be wide with awe before, they're now wide with horror and fear. Haru trembles and clutches his dinosaur plushie close to his chest.

When Sae looks up, he almost flinches at how horrifying angry your expression is.

"Yuki, take Haru upstairs. Your father and I need to talk."

Sae doesn't bother to check if his kids actually leave. He hears their footsteps on the stairs and that's enough for the two of you to start going at it like lions. Father of your kids or not, no one speaks to your son or daughter that way.

"What the fuck was that Sae?" you ask incredulously. "How fucking dare you call him stupid!"

"He was," Sae's voice is low and menacing. "He was being stupid and callous with his health and look at where it got him! You saw how swollen that ankle of his was!"

"And you saw how heartbroken you made your son, didn't you?" you shout brushing past Sae and into the kitchen. "He looks up to you you idiot. You're his dream. You should know that by now!"

"If he really did, he would've listened the first time I told him to give up! His dream isn't worth getting hurt over, not like I did-"

"Sae shut up!" you scream. "He's not Rin!"

Sae freezes. "The fuck did you just say?!"

"You heard me loud and clear! He's. Not. Rin."

"How fucking dare you-"

"You think I haven't noticed it too?! I knew Rin too!"

"NOT LIKE ME!" Sae roars, his voice cracking. "NOT LIKE HOW I DID!"

He crowds your space, and you stumble back against the counter. "You knew this whole time," Sae growls, "and you've just been letting me suffer in my loathing all alone?!"

"You have never been alone with me, and you know that," you retort, just as venomously. "If you never came to me with your sorrow, then how the hell was I supposed to help?"

"Shut up!" he shouts. You've never seen Sae this unhinged before. He's unraveling at the seams. "Shut up!"

His baby brother. The truck. It's all he can think of whenever he sees Haru. He's had so many nightmares of Haru's body lying in that coffin or on that street, his limbs bent every which way, his teal eyes-

His eyes. The eyes that would flutter closed as Sae would read him a bedtime story, or would light up whenever Sae made an assist for a goal in a game, or would collect tears when Yuki said no to playing together.

Those same eyes stare back at Sae in the mirror with loathing etched into every crease of his iris. Sae feels his self-hatred in every fraction of his body. His heart is full of it and his brain echoes it across his entire nervous system. He's alight with pain all the time, and he's tired.

He can't stand to stare into his eyes a second longer. Rin's eyes. Haru's eyes.

Haru's eyes are staring up at him now.

"Haru get back here!" Yuki shouts yanking on her little brother's arm.

But Haru doesn't move, he doesn't even flinch, twisted ankle and all. He stands in front of you protectively, his little 3 feet a solid wall from his father's rage.

"Don't yell at her!" he sobs, his cheeks covered in tears.

"Go upstairs Haru," Sae says lowly.

Haru shakes his head, even as you repeat Sae's sentiment. "No! Not if you're going to yell!

"Haru-!"

"Why do you hate me so much?!" Haru asks hysterically, his voice high pitched and squeaky. "What did I do?! I don't know what I did!"

Sae steps back as if he got punched. Haru's entire body is shaking with tremors as he continues to cry. He shakes his head and sobs, "You look at me different than you do Yuki or Mama! You look like you want me to run away and never ever come back! You look at me like you want me to do nothing forever, and be nothing! Sometimes I wish I was never born!"

"Haru!" you shout in horror. You kneel down and try to take your son into your arms, to provide him with some comfort, but Haru shoves away from you and takes a step towards Sae, who's recoiling from his son in horror.

"What did I do, daddy?!" he asks desperately. "Why do you hate me?!"

A deafening silence fills the kitchen. You and Yuki watch helplessly as Haru cries himself stupid. His tears stain the tiles on the floor and wet his shirt. Snot runs from his nose as he watches Sae with those same haunting eyes.

Eventually, Yuki whispers, "Haru, let's go upstairs, please. Daddy doesn't hate you, let's please just go upstairs."

Haru turns just a little, ready to follow his sister, but suddenly Sae falls to his knees. You and your kids flinch at his anguished expression, the one that has seen a lifetime of pain despite just barely being halfway through his life. Sae is sobbing uncontrollably, a sight you've never seen. Not when you got married, not when you had Yuki or Haru, not even when Rin died. Although now, it seems that pain is finally rearing its ugly head.

"I . . . I don't- fuck. Haru, no," Sae moans, grieved. He crawls across the floor and immediately takes his son into his arms, crushing him against his chest. "I'd never hate you. I'll never hate you. I'll love you forever and ever and ever. I'm so sorry. Daddy's so sorry. Forgive me please. You can play soccer. You can watch TV and fight with your dinosaurs and do everything you ever want, but please Haru never think that Daddy hates you because he doesn't. He doesn't. I don't. My boy. My sweet baby boy."

Sae's breath is coming in short intervals now, on the verge of hyperventilating. He squeezes his son tighter against his shirt and sobs into Haru's hair. "Never. Never ever. I'll never hate you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me. Please forgive me. Daddy loves you. I love you. I love you, forever and ever. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-"

His breath hitches as you tilt Sae's head up to look at you. You're not smiling down at him, but your eyes hold a softness they were void of just moments before. Sae's own eyes are wild and messy, muddy with his tears. Haru is curled up in his father's arms, crying into his dad's chest.

You put your hand on Haru's shoulder and begin prying your son from his dad, but Sae holds fast, desperate to not let go of his boy. His only boy. His sweet baby boy.

God, what has he done?

Eventually, Sae lets go of Haru, and you give your son to your daughter. "Both of you, upstairs. I'll come tuck you in soon, okay?"

They nod, and Yuki hurries upstairs, carrying Haru in her arms. You turn back to your husband and cup his cheek in your hand.

"Relax for a moment. Then come upstairs. I'll be in our bedroom. We need to talk."

"I'm sorry," he blurts, grabbing your wrist. "I'm-"

You kiss his forehead and he falls silent. "Shh, we'll talk later. Just . . . we both need to cool down first, okay?" When Sae nods, you smile the tiniest of smiles, and head upstairs as well.

He sits in the silence for an hour, a day, a week, who knows really? Eventually, Sae heads upstairs. He walks down the hallway to your bedroom, but pauses when he sees the light on in Haru's bedroom. Haru's scared of the dark after all, and falls asleep with the lights on, for you or Sae to come later and turn them off.

When Sae cracks open the door, Haru is asleep in his race car bed, his dinosaur tucked under his chin. Sae's heart almost gives out as he walks into his son's room. You left the light on on purpose, for Sae to do this now. He flicks the switch to the lamp off and kisses Haru's head, petting his hair with his hand.

His son. His only son. He's fucked things up so badly hasn't he? Just like with Rin.

Sae sobs again and shakes his head. He stays there, kneeling next to Haru for another horrible minute, before standing and making his way to your bedroom. You're sitting with your back to the headboard, your knees drawn up to your chest, staring down at your hands. You look up as he walks in, and Sae closes the door behind him, shutting the rest of the world out to the two of you.

a/n: ill prob write a part two at some point which delves more into Sae and Rins relationship . . .

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 55

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV

Words: 2608

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21 

Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44

Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Bells of Casterly Rock's sept clang loudly, announcing the burial of the golden lady, Joanna Lannister. Your eyes, puffy and red from the endless tears you'd shed, stare at the frozen form of your mother lying neatly in her gold and red casket. Lions engrave the sides, tangled in a garden of thorns and roses. She looked no different than when she had been alive: pale and beautiful. At least that's the last image you'd have of her before she was put into the Lannister crypt to rot for all eternity.

Your only beacon of love and hope.

You wanted to be buried with her. To crawl into the coffin and press yourself to her still chest. Unfortunately, your father wouldn't grant you that wish. You hadn't seen much of him since Joanna's sudden death. If her death had wrecked your world, it had absolutely destroyed Tywin. She was the only person who could soften Tywin's rough edges. Her smile alone could coax warmth onto his usually stoic expression. Now he was forced to bury the love of his life.

Even after years since her passing, this scene was still fresh and clear in your memory. Only. . . something was different now.

Joanna's casket no longer resided in the main hall of the sept, surrounded by candles and incense smoke. Your relatives were out of sight. It was just you and your mother in the eerie quiet of the lion's den. You were still small as you were at her funeral. Small and feeling oh so vulnerable.

Her voice calls your name but her frozen lips remain still.

You search the shadows for any sign of her presence. All was silent.

"Mama?" Your voice whispers out. You stay close to her casket for a ray of light from the skylight in the den offers the only light, bathing your mother's body in a heavenly glow.

The shadows quiver at your voice.

"You're not still scared of the dark, are you?" Her patient tone replies. It echoes and bounces off the cavernous walls.

No. You weren't afraid of the dark. Not when you've lived in it for so long.

Her disembodied voice attempts to coax you away from the safety of the light.

You frown.

This darkness didn't feel right. When you'd stepped through the shadows that Inniros had manipulated, you felt the thrum of life all around you. Encasing you in a protective blanket.

The shadows in front of you now lacked the pulse of anything living.

"We shouldn't be here." You murmur to yourself, suddenly finding your childish voice gone, replaced by your grown one. Turning to what should have been your mother's coffin, you jump when you find her standing in front of you. Her eyes are still shut, but around her mouth is a smear of black, funeral garb adorning her body.

You take a step away from the specter.

Slowly she lifts her pale arms, enticing you in for an embrace.

"Come here, my champion." Joanna's mouth did not move. "Azor Ahai Reborn."

"That's not my name." You counter. "And you're not my mother."

The image before you shatters.

Lazily, your eyes blink open. You don't remember falling asleep. Last you recalled, you were being taken by the Morghons, back to their homeland beyond the Mountains of Mourn. One had come up behind you though and pressed a sachet of herbs over your nose. You can't recall anything after that.

Your first instinct is to freak out when you find yourself in an unfamiliar room wearing a drab chemise that you definitely weren't wearing when you left the Manor of Shades.

You lay on a stone substitute for a bed, body aching from a harsh resting spot. Much like your dream, its unnaturally silent. No windows, just a gray cell and a narrow door. The wood of it was a deep black with odd sigils carved deeply into it. Other than that there was nothing for you that would assist in trying to decipher where you were.

Well, it was certainly better than the cells that the Red Temple had. Their prison cells looked like they were hastily put together last minute. These were thoughtfully curated. Like they always planned to keep people down here for long periods at a time.

"Hello?" Raising your voice, you carefully get up and head to the door. Your knuckles knock against the door to get anyone's attention. You call out again, but the result was the same.

Starting to worry that perhaps you'd made a terrible mistake in blindly walking into an obvious trap, you take several deep breaths. Weles was thorough in teaching you to stay calm.

'Okay, stay level-headed. What would Weles do?' You think to yourself and begin to examine any and every nook and cranny available to you. But the lack of windows and weapons was concerning. No alternate escape routes. 'They'll come for me eventually. It's not like they'd forget. . .'

With a sigh, you meander back to the stiff cot and sit down. At least you have a moment to think and soak in everything that transpired mere moments ago.

You'd ridden a dragon. No Lannister in history could boast that. Only you.

Your heart ached when you remembered Latilth's wounds she got from protecting you from that fall.

'She's being taken care of.' You assure yourself. 'Inniros, Rhiannon. . . They're looking out for her. Like they always have.' Both have known the dragon since the moment she hatched. Latilth trusted them so much that she felt comfortable enough to perch on their shoulders when she was small enough to do so.

Still. . . You missed her warmth next to you.

Sadly, you whisper to yourself, "My little sun burst."

She seemed so far away. You wonder what the distance really was between the Manor Shades and wherever you were. They knocked you out so you wouldn't know the exact location.

Maybe you had been stupid. You had no idea what you'd signed yourself up for. You didn't know anything about the Morghons except that they were ancient and powerful.

You'd been in worse situations than this. The scars on your back were testament enough.

The hours lagged. You were starting to truly feel the aches and pains wearing you thin.

Eventually, your body surrenders, lying back down against the flat surface. Your bones weighed heavily inside of you.

You were tired, but knew you couldn't risk falling asleep in unfamiliar territory. Weles would be able to stay awake, even while bleeding out. He was strong and resilient and could push through the basic instinct of sleep.

Rubbing the heel of your palms to your burning eyes, you do everything you could think of to stave off hunger and exhaustion: practicing with an imaginary sword, reciting the few chants you'd learned from Melisandre, even going so far as to try and name all of the Targaryen rulers in order.

"Close your eyes, little champion."

That instantly woke you up. The same disembodied voice you came across in your dreams.

Eyes darting around the cell, you still find yourself completely alone.

When you next hear your mother's voice call out your name, it sounded like she was speaking right into your ear.

Anger flares in you. How dare they try to use the memory of your mother to unnerve you. "Cowards. Show yourselves! You can't fool me with these magic tricks!" As expected, no one replies.

You march to the door, fury flaming across your cheeks. You could tolerate a lot in life; in fact, you had. But the weaponization of your dead mother was pushing things too far.

Banging on the door may have been useless, yet there was nothing else for you to do.

"The rose that blooms in shadowed spring." Joanna's ghostly voice warbles. "Gold is your crown, but fire is your flame. Conceived in shadow where screams abide. Light reborn from agony."

Your hands go up to shield your ears.

The disembodied voice continues to tauntingly sing "The fire you wake shall never sleep, and what you save, you shall not keep. From your rise, the old world dies."

It mirrored the Morgons' warnings, how you would ultimately wreak havoc on the world thanks to the resurgence of magic. For those words to be said with your mother's voice left you feeling angrily helpless. You'd come so far yet-

"Close your eyes, little champion." Joanna's voice croons.

"It's just a trick." You tell yourself. anything to drown out her deceitful words.

There's a sensation of a phantom hand rubbing your shoulder in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. It only managed to make the hairs on your neck stand at attention. But it wasn't the voice of your mom that whispered in your ear.

It was Rhaegar.

You stop breathing, realizing that you'd almost forgotten what he sounded like. How could you forget his beautiful voice? When you turn, ethereal lilac eyes stare back. Part of you knows this ghost wasn't really Rhaegar. Another cruel part of the Morghons' game.

But your heart yearned to reach out to him. To run your fingers through his silver hair. Like you used to when the two of you lay in bed together, his heir growing in your belly.

This was too much for you. Your eyes welled with tears, stopping yourself from following through with your desire. Rhaegar wasn't really there. More than likely, Rhaegar probably thought you dead. He planned to wed Elia Martell to tie Dorne's allegiance to his cause.

"You're not real." Lips quivering, you press your back against the cell door. "My Rhaegar is leagues away." Perhaps he was dead. You hadn't heard any new news about the war in Westeros. Not since Barristan Selmy went to Volantis to deliver Tyrion to you.

The Rhaegar in front of you doesn't seem to hear you as he slowly puts one spectral foot in front of the other until he's right in front of you.

You stare up at his impassive face. He raises his hands and you think he's going to caress your face, but instead, he violently shoves you backward. You don't fall against the sturdy surface of the door, though. Fearfully, you flail, trying to catch anything to stop your fall. But you plummet into a dark void. Screams catch in your throat, heart pounding as you continue your helpless descent.

Eyes squeezing shut, your exhale is shaky as you feel the air around you, rushing past your ears and through your hair as you fall.

When you next open your eyes, you're back on the stone bed. Were you truly awake?

Sweat made your simple chemise cold and damp, clinging to your feverish skin. Lips were dry to the point of cracking.

On the floor was a wooden tray that held a clay cup of what looked to be water and one dark piece of bread.

You run a hand over your face. A plan needed to be strategized if you wanted any hope of surviving whatever nightmare this was.

Pulling your palm away, you will see the warmth of R'hllor to flower from your palm. Reassuringly, a bright light blooms from the center. Smiling if only a little, you hold it to your chest to feel it spread through you in comfort.

This was real. Your power was real.

Exhaling, the light goes out swiftly like a candle.

You were at least still in control of this. Whatever they had planned for you, you would persevere. It wouldn't be easy. For you, nothing was ever easy.

Inspecting the tray, you choose to push it away. You could hold out for a little bit longer. Who knows what they put in the bread and water.

You fiddle with the straight edge of the stone bed. The Morghons intended for you to be at their mercy. They had all the power and control in this situation. Except for your flame.

A harsh green light awakens you. You don't remember falling asleep, and worry if it's another illusion. The pain in your body is a testament that you were truly awake.

"Azor Ahai," a raspy voice speaks from behind the light.

Your mouth is dry, your eyes squint, and you struggle to focus on the figure. It looked different from the Morghons that had taken you. This one was shorter and wore an iron circlet atop its bald head. "(y/n). My name is (y/n)." You croak out.

It nods and steps aside to reveal the open door. "This way, please." Offering no assistance as you struggle to move your stiff body.

Every inch of your body throbbed but you managed to get to your feet.

When you step out into the hall, your jailer tilts its head and takes a quick look into your cell. "You haven't eaten anything." Your jailer mentions.

You don't bother to answer his statement. Instead, you ask, "Where are you taking me?" Narrowing your eyes, you attempt to get a better look at this different Morghon. While it was shorter than the other three, it was still taller than you by two feet. Skin lacked the sickening gray hue, possessing a bruised color of purples and reds. The lack of eyes was unnerving to you; how could they see anything? Their whole being was a huge mystery to not just you, but it seemed even for the darkin and their vast knowledge of the occupants in Asshai.

The Morghon opens its mouth to reveal stubby, wide-spaced teeth. "To the Court."

"Are those the Morghons that brought me here?"

"No." It seems to cackle at your lack of knowledge. As if it should be the most obvious thing. "They are the Sentinel. Enforcers."

How many different Morghons were there, you wonder to yourself as you silently follow after it.

The corridors were made out of sleek, shiny black marble with a high, arched ceiling that caused an echo effect. Green light from the Morghon's lantern casts an emerald glow. You clung to that simple beam of light when you had to venture up a steep, winding staircase. Chains on your wrists clank and cling as you move your bare feet along cold stone now. The upper level was covered in a haze of incense smoke, the burning sticks poking out of the pillars by the thousandths.

You stop in your tracks, staring at a large cluster of crystals, the very one that was embedded in the large dragon that had sent you and Latilth down to the ground.

"This way, Azro Ahai (y/n)." Its hissing voice startles you. Beckoning you under an archway that was off to the right. One gnarled hand is pulling back a slightly shimmering curtain.

Biting your tongue, you stop yourself from correcting it yet again. What would the use be? They seemed insistent that you and Azor Ahai were indiscernible from one another. They didn't see you as your own person.

Gingerly, you walk past it and into an ornament-lit cave. The walls were smoothed, and stalagmites shone like someone had freshly polished them. There was a small pool filled with inky, black water. Surrounding the pool were five figures cloaked in red. The Morghons who had abducted you stood in the very back, quiet and observant.

Skin crawls when you notice one out of the five Morghons surrounding the pool was the only one that had an eye. A huge, cyclopic eye with scars etched around it. The yellow iris unblinking. It wore a tall, pointed hat that glimmered with gold threads.

It is the one who addresses you. "Greetings, (y/n), the Flame Reborn."

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[clairecomics]

She moves through moonbeams slowly She knows just how to hold me And when her edges soften Her body is my coffin I know she drains me slowly She wears me down to bones in bed Must be the sign on my head That says, oh Love me dead! Love me dead!

[scekrex]

Adam wasn’t killed like everyone thought. Lucifer’s son aka Charlie’s little brother m!reader took him in and healed him. Charlie lets the new sinner Adam stay in the hotel after her brother begged since she loves her sweet brother so much. Adam never seen a demon so hot and falls for the reader. They’ve been secretly messing around and Luci ends up walking in on them.

Okay to clarify: Charlie in this fic is over 200 years old - reader is one year younger than her. Which makes him way younger than Adam is but I assume almost every person this man has fucked with in heaven is way younger than him

Part 2

And when his edges soften, his body is my coffin

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you

You knelt next to the tall angel, your hands kept pressing the shirt you had been wearing moments ago tightly against his wounds while the golden blood that had already formed a puddle around the first man stained your pants - not that you really cared. Your focus was on the dying soul in front of you. Yes Adam had been awful, yes Adam deserved to die, but on the other hand it simply didn’t sit right with you to let him die that easily, for you it felt purely wrong to give up on his tainted soul without even trying. And just as you were about to cry out for help in panic, Adam started to breathe.

Your big sister, your father and their friends had worked quite hard to rebuild the hotel and just as the last light of it flickered to life, Adam took his first breath. “Y/N?” Lucifer’s voice called out for his youngest son right before he spotted you kneeling next to Adam. With slow, heavy steps he walked over to you and the first man, suspiciously eyeing what you were doing but when the king of Hell saw how the brunette’s chest visibly pumped blood and air through his body, he looked quite shocked. “Dad, he’s alive,” your voice sounded happy, excited even and yet so broken - Lucifer didn’t move, he just stood there and watched. “We have to take him in, dad, he’s wounded.” The blonde king shook his head violently, snapping out of his haze as he processed your words slowly, then he shook his head in a softer manner - this time he used it to respond to what you’ve just said, “Nuh, no~no~no~oh, we’re not taking him in.”

Charlie appeared behind the king of Hell, your older sister - she was only one year older than you - put down a gentle hand on his shoulder, “But dad, he’s a human souls just like the other residents and as much as I hate the thought of living with him, the concept of this hotel is all about redemption, maybe Adam can redeem himself too.” And while Lucifer didn’t admit it out loud, he knew his children were right, a defeated sigh left his body and he lowered his head. The blonde was not willing to put up a fight with either you nor Charlie so he simply gave in. He always had the option to kick the first man out if he would not be willing to redeem his soul after all.

-

It had taken Adam a while to regain his strength, it had taken him even longer to accept that his angels had left him and that he was doomed to rot in Hell - though he kept telling you and the other residents that soon Sera would look for him and send Lute. But Sera never mentioned Adam in any of the meetings she held with Lucifer and Lute had not been back to Hell ever since she thought she had seen her best friend die. Not even during extermination day. But on the other hand that had forced the first man to get used to his new environment and while Vaggie was just as amused to have the brunette roaming their halls as Lucifer, Angel seemed to actually enjoy the first man’s company - even though most of their conversations were about the bitches Adam had slept with in heaven.

But you were without a doubt the demon he got along with the best, not only did you like the music he was playing, you also seemed to understand him without ever going through something similar, yet the two of you connected. The bond between you and Adam had grown strong, so strong that the brunette had you pressed against your bedroom wall, kissing your lips over and over again as his wings framed your sides - a habit he had picked up in Heaven to prevent people from staring. His lips didn’t remain on your lips though, he was eager to shower your entire body in kisses and he was determined to keep going until that goal was reached.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, gently nudging Adam to signal the former angel to give you some space. “Lemme just-” you grumbled as you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere where it wouldn’t bother you and as soon as the soft fabric was no longer covering your skin, the brunette was on you in an instant, his hot mouth was mapping out your body like it was the most beautiful thing he ever touched, his tongue circled your nipple. And then a loud banging noise appeared right behind him and when you peeked over Adam’s shoulder you froze. Your father was standing in the door frame, just as shocked as you were. “Adam,” you mumbled quietly, trying to get the taller male to notice the king of Hell. But the angel shielding your body from your father’s eyes simply grinned against your skin as he responded, “Why don’t you moan louder for me, babes?”

Lucifer cleared his throat quite loudly and it was just then and there that Adam noticed the blonde king. His body stopped moving immediately and he just stared at you with a blank expression on his face. When a small hand reached for his upper arm to spin the angel around, Adam was sure he was gonna die - there was simply no way Lucifer would let that slide.

As soon as Adam looked down on the king, he awkwardly grinned down on the blonde, trying to charm his way out of the situation - not that his bullshit worked on Lucifer and before he knew it Lucifer’s fist collided with his face.

[bitemarx]

she moves through moonbeams slowly, she knows just how to hold me. and when her edges soften, her body is my coffin.

[keira-draws]

"she moves through moon beams slowly, she knows just how to hold me, and when her edges soften her body is my coffin"